D.H. A.N.: I'm here with a new story and I hope you like it. Mhera is written in first person. Please enjoy Healing Presence.
Marik Ishtar coughed loudly, emitting an unintended wheeze, hoping that no one would hear it. He was unable to get sick, it was the last thing that should happen to him. Straining his voice, he called out. "Get her in here now!" His throat cried for relief, relief that only one could bring.
I heard a huge cough that awoke me from my slumber. I checked, and was relieved that it was not my throat that had emitted the undesirable sound. I did not know who it was, but felt really sorry for them. Odion then rushed in without warning. "My apologies, Miss Mhera, but your father has become ill and requested you." His hazel eyes met mine, a gesture that I have always taken as kindness that he alone gives. I heard my father's throat plea for relief.
"Of course, I hope I can help him." I sighed out of fearful apprehension as my father was usually not agreeable to treatments for a disease. "There may be a few things that I will need from you." I responded as I watched him leave. I then headed for my father's room.
I entered the large room silently, at once noting that the room was dark, and I could not, nor did I wish to, make out any other objects than the bed, and a doorway to my right. I ran my hands across my clothing, preparing for my father's requests. I noted the bed was huge, and fit my father's ego, or so others said. I never thought so.
"You have to help me." My father's mental voice was better than his normal one, even with the fact that I hadn't heard it. He sounded tired even though he was telepathically conversing with me. I was now unsure of how well I could aid him. His eyes fluttered open gently, seeing me seemed to put him at ease, but how long it would last, I was not certain.
D.H.: How was it? Good, I hope. Please R&R.