After Vell had done everything he could for the Yellow Mage; healing him as best he could, then using more traditional methods of healing, such as applying more bandages and sewing together torn flesh, he carried the mage to his own bed.
As this hadn't been Vell's first visit to the tower, and as the Yellow Mage hadn't redecorated in the meantime, navigating it came easily to him.
He remembered the long conversations he had had with the Yellow Mage.
He was a very serious man, but also very caring.
After putting him to bed, Vell lowered his head.
He was glad that he knew him.
He stood there for a moment. He had done all he could for now.
The Yellow Mage was a hardy man, and Vell didn't think this would kill him, but any wound to a friend was a tragedy.
Even though he didn't know exactly what had happened, he could think of nothing except that this was his fault.
He turned away and went back to where he had left Sonder.
Just because she had looked all right didn't mean that she was.
Wounds of the mind were as dangerous as wounds of the body.
When he looked at her, he thought she seemed older.
Not by much, but enough for him to notice that the image he had carried of her in his mind was not what she looked like now.
He wondered how long he had been gone.
There were faint marks all over her.
He caressed her gently, and her pale skin was cold.
He pulled a blanket over her.
For a moment, he simply watched her.
He imagined how frightened she must have been when she put on the mask.
It was Endrith's mask. That much was obvious. And if it had been made by him, with his power and the power ripped from people and their souls, then its power was immensely tainted; not just by its sources of power, but by Endrith's will.
It was an extension of himself.
What had she been thinking, putting it on?
Was it to save him?
He looked down at the mask, which had been beside him from the moment he awoke.
He did not like looking at it, but he always kept an eye on it.
Dealing with it was a task for another time. But being helpless while he had to rely on other people to save him was something he did not want to happen again.
And he supposed that, with Endrith seemingly still trapped in the Beyond, he wouldn't have to worry about it.
But he did worry.
He worried more than he ever had.
The reason was clear, and he had not stopped thinking about him.
Endrith had spoken to him before he awoke, and so had his mask.
Had he somehow awakened? Had he awakened enough to become a problem?
And there was power there. Endrith was an infinite source of power. That would be the worst problem one could imagine.
Vell felt as though it was somehow his fault.