Chapter 126: Plants, Crickets, and Madness

Chirr.

Chirr… chirp.

Buzz… rustle.

Inhale—exhale.

Sniff… sob. Groan.

“Unghhh… Nnnngh…”

Riley twisted in the sheets, writhing like someone caught in a nightmare. His body curled tight, arms locking around his knees as if he could squeeze the noise out of himself.

But it didn’t work.

The sounds just kept coming—every buzz was a thunderclap, every rustle a roar.

Even the whisper of air sliding into his lungs sounded like a storm crashing through him.

He groaned again, low and guttural, his face buried against the pillow as if that would help. It didn’t. The pillow might as well have been a megaphone, amplifying everything into his skull.

To any observer, it looked like he was being haunted in his sleep. But to Riley, still trapped in unconsciousness, it was unbearable noise drilling into his ears.

And it was more than enough to wake Kael.

The dragon lord’s eyes opened, golden and sharp even in the dark. He sat up halfway, gaze narrowing at the restless figure across from him.

Riley.

After a whole useless nonverbal spat earlier about sleeping arrangements, here they were anyway.

Evading dinner had been easier than expected after Kael claimed his human aide was tired and had to rest.

While the twig argued it was going to sound bad because what does his being tired have to do with the dragon lord having dinner with elven royalty? Kael said he could claim to be tired, but who would believe him?

So that was that.

However, the twig had made additional fuss, insisting they divide the bed right down the middle. Kael had found it unnecessary—ridiculous, even.

For one, since when did his aide get enough courage to demand such a thing from him?

If he’d asked, Riley would’ve said it’s from frustration, of course. Being stuck in Silvara was already a life sentence anyway, so what was demanding better sleeping rights?

But then again, why not just stay in the room assigned to him?

Now that would just be stupid.

If he did that, then instead of serving the entire duration of the sentence, he’d just create an inevitable shortcut.

Just how many elves did they anger earlier? If he didn’t die from a spell, who knows when some random plant would smother him in his sleep? Therefore, it would be best to stay where the likelihood of Plants versus Riley would decrease.

However, just because he was staying in the room and as close to the golden lizard as possible, that didn’t mean he didn’t want a semblance of privacy.

So even when the dragon lord wordlessly rolled his eyes as if to convey that even a wall wouldn’t protect anyone here, what more this pillow, Riley still went ahead and made a pillow divider.

With Kael’s gaze, it was apparent he was thinking about the other times they had the same sleeping arrangement, but Riley had been adamant.

“That was different! Those were critical moments!” he’d argued, nose in the air like he had principles to uphold.

In the end, Kael let it go. What was the point in telling him otherwise anyway, when the twig pointed out that it wasn’t necessary for tonight?

Or so he thought.

And yet now, thanks to Riley, he was awake anyway.

The aide was shifting violently under the sheets, his side of the “border” an absolute disaster zone. The poor fool’s face twisted in pain, his body trembling as though locked in some private battle. And the sounds, those unholy groans, echoed through the room like a wounded beast.

Kael’s brow furrowed slightly.

So much for principles.

Now what?

The furrowing barely lasted a moment when Kael registered Riley’s state.

Hunched into himself, trembling hands clamped so tightly over his ears that his knuckles had gone white. His whole body shook as if the act alone could block out whatever was assaulting him.

“Hey—”

The word fell sharp, more like a bomb rather than the mutter it really was.

Riley’s eyes flew open. His chest heaved like he’d just been dragged out of a nightmare. Sweat dampened his hairline, his hands clutching his ears as if it’d help block everything, anything.

But nothing.

What was a nightmare he thought would end, continued even as he opened his eyes to see the dragon lord flinching.

Pain.

Kael knew something was really wrong when he felt pain. And considering how nothing had gone wrong with him, the room was still warded, and no attack, magical or physical, had occurred, then it could only be Riley.

“What’s wrong with your ears?”

The question wasn’t loud, but to Riley, it might as well have been thunder. His shoulders stiffened. His whole frame spasmed, a shiver racing down his spine.

Then came that faint metallic tang.

Blood.

Riley’s ears were bleeding.

The dragon lord rushed, casting a sound-blocking spell after seeing his aide’s reaction.

The relief hit Kael, too. A sudden sting behind his own ears faded, the dull ache vanishing with the spell.

Kael remembered Riley’s mention of hearing whispers and figured it was connected with this.

A sudden sensitivity and now bleeding. Was this a delayed effect of ingesting dragon blood? Kael thought as he cast a healing spell on Riley, who had tears rolling down his face.

But even as he felt a sudden silence befall him, Riley had a difficult time taking out his hands that covered his ears. They most likely weren’t doing anything, but he felt like he needed it when every sound, crisp and sharp, had practically shoved itself inside his skull.

It came all of a sudden. One moment, his mind was blank, then the next, he’d been assaulted by sounds.

Crickets chirping in overlapping rounds, like some demonic orchestra. Insects buzzing their wings, beating out rhythms like war drums. Leaves whispering together, carrying the gossip of the wind. Every single inhale and exhale from god knows how many elves, some shallow, some steady, some with a faint whistle like a nose slightly crooked from an old fight.

He could hear sobs, heart-wrenching ones that were soon joined by his own cries of pain.

He could suddenly hear them all, up until he saw Kael’s face; he thought his head was going to explode.

Then silence.

And only now could he really look at Kael, whose gaze was scrutinizing him.

A faint flicker rippled through the sigil, and suddenly Kael’s voice pressed into Riley’s mind.

Just nod if you understand or agree.

Riley flinched. A one-way telepathy? Wonderful. But he forced himself to nod anyway, jaw tight.

“Has this ever happened before today?”

Riley shook his head quickly. No. Absolutely not. If it had, he would’ve signed up for early retirement and a padded cell.

“Does it hurt because of sensitivity?”

Riley froze. His face twisted. Then, with all the reluctant dignity of a man admitting his own downfall, he nodded. Earnestly. Because “sensitive” didn’t even begin to cover what had just happened. That wasn’t sensitive. That was every cricket, every leaf, and every nose whistle trying to audition in his skull at full volume. Moreover, he wasn’t even sure if all of it was just a hallucination.

Well, initially, but then were ears supposed to bleed from hallucinations?

Kael’s golden eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t speak again.

And that silence terrified Riley.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep