Vallendel opened his eyes carefully, then shut them quickly. Even in the dying light of Rukbat's ray's it showed to him plain as day the rough state his body was in. The light revealed the shocking array of bruises, bandages, and splints that kept his broken self together.

       He was a mess, that was for certain. Damn that bastard! Damn him to the deepest hells known to Man and beast! He vaguely remembered being thrown through a wall, but that sensation was secondary to the intense emotions that had flared, leaving him, with his gift of Empathy, virtually helpless. His father's disbelief that a product of his exertions would actually rebel against the hand that, presumably, fed it, had stunned the man, then angered him.

Well rebel Val had, and suffered he also had. He felt fierce pain shoot through both his legs as he tried to move and dispel the stiffness, giving a muffled cry he whimpered a little. But I'm free of him! He wanted a model of himself, not a son. The thought was heady and he fought down both nausea and the waters of sleep. He cant hurt me anymore, no one can. A nurse came in and stopped at his bedside. He narrowed silver eyes at her as she pushed a lock of raven black hair from his face. "Do you need anything?" he shrank away from her touch, and though he hurt like anything he shook his head slightly. All he wanted was for her and her foolish fantasies away from him and his battered emotional barriers. She eyed him dubiously, her eyes wandering to the many bandages and bruises. "You sure about that?" she tried again, leaning over him a bit.

      He shrank down into himself and shook his head more forcibly, though it cost him dearly. " I'm fine ma'am." He managed to croak, closing his eyes. She sighed and he heard her footsteps retreating towards the door. They paused and he winced, hoping she would just leave already. "I'll be down the hall if you need anything, just ask." He nodded slightly, intending nothing of the sort. The door closed and he sighed in relief.

The light was fading fast but he hardly noticed. No more hurting, no more looks of both hate and disgust. I'm free of him, my life is my own. Suddenly reality dawned on him, he felt panic overtake him as he realized what all of this meant. What will I do? I have no money, only the clothes on my back, and no skill in anything. Well, except making drinks, I got a lot of practice with that from Him. He shuddered at the unbidden memories, when his father, in drunken madness, had given him to the bartender to pay a tab. At least the bartender had been kind. And I did learn a bit about his profession, I suppose its something, a start maybe. He calmed himself with the thought and a poem he had heard from a harper at the one gather he'd been to. With my mother, gods, what ever happened to her? No, don't think about it, your free of everything, including the past. He told himself sternly as remembered pain and loss returned.

              I could care less, she abandoned me, left me with Him, so I live for myself now, nothing matters, I don't have to give a damn about anyone or anything. Still he felt a lump form in his throat, he fought it and the tears with all he was worth, refusing to let them return-threatening to weaken his resolve and push him further into helplessness. He was unaware when twilight turned to night, only that the darkness closed on him like a clenched fist. He hardly realized when he passed from dazed consciousness to troubled dreaming.

Alone, he was utterly and blissfully alone. Not a soul around for miles, no emotions, no Empathy, nothing. No one to hurt him, abandon him, try and mold him after themself.

Everywhere was grayness, he stood on soft forgiving sand, cold to the touch but he welcomed the numbness that spread all throughout his body. The gray sky was cloudless, the miles of sand featureless. No pain. Just-nothing. He savored the unfeeling, the lack of pain. Here was true freedom from everything.

Here he was safe. Safe. Safe from Him, from Her, from everything that had gone wrong in his life. Safe from life itself. He wasn't open to the hate, envy, and jealousy of others who wanted to destroy him.

It was a gift from the hitherto uncaring gods, a respite meant to keep him sane in this world until he was taken from it. This place-he would remember it, hold it inside, cherish it and what it stood for. He would no longer care-he would be safe. Nothing mattered anymore, no one could reach him here, and if no one could reach him, they couldn't hurt him, and he wouldn't be open to more pain and betrayal.

Not ever again.

Next Morning