Chapter 25 Chapter 8 Night
"Is he still alive?"
"Yes." Master Zeldalar walked out of the room, where lay the catalyst saint, motionless and lifeless.She focused on the young man standing in front of her.With his resolute face and thick black hair, he bore no resemblance to the patients in the room, but the pain, worry and even fear could be seen in those eyes, which made the druid suspicious.
"Are you his son?" she asked.
"No...it's not," replied the young man, shaking his head. "I'm...his friend," he said almost wistfully. "We've been traveling together for a long time."
Zelda frowned. "Yes. I can tell from the pulsation of his body that he has been away from home for a long time. He is a person who is used to a stable and peaceful life. His complexion is gray and slightly blue. However, I saw a fiery red glow from his body. Light. If it weren’t for this kind of peacetime, this kind of thing wouldn’t happen,” Zelda La said. "I'd say the saint just had a fight! But since there's no war..."
The druid stopped and stared at Joram suspiciously.
"No." He replied.
"Then." Zelda said. "I'm sure this torment comes from within. It's affecting his constitution; in fact, it's affecting the harmony of his whole body! Something, some heavy secret he's carrying..."
"We all have secrets," said Joram impatiently.He looked in over Zeldalar, trying to see the dark room clearly. "Can I go in and see him?"
"Only a short time, young man," said Zeldalar sternly, taking Joram's arm.
Zelda La is a tall middle-aged woman.One of the best healers in Merilon City, she has subdued maddened people in therapy until her healing powers brought peace to their deranged minds.She has hugged the little life that just came into this world, and also hugged the dying person who is about to die.She had a strong body and a firm will, and she was not moved by Joran's eyebrows and eyes in the slightest, and she held him firmly.
"Listen to me," she whispered, not wanting to disturb the Catalyst Saint lying in the next room. "If you were his friend, ask the secret. The secret poisoned the blood like a thorn in the flesh, ate his soul, and nearly led him to death. In fact, he couldn't eat or sleep. I don't think you noticed that, did you?"
Joram had no choice but to stare darkly at her.
"I knew it!" Druid snorted. "You young people, you only care about yourself!"
"What's the matter with him?" Joram asked, looking into the dark room.A harp she kept in a corner was playing soothing music, as Zeldalar had ordered.Unseen hands rhythmically pluck the strings, intent on smoothing out the dissonant vibrato found in the patient.
"A layman thinks it's Emin's hand. Country folks think it's God's hand that knocks a man down and makes him sick. But of course we know—" Zeldara spoke clearly. "It's intense afflictions that disrupt the body's natural fluid flow and starve the brain. In some cases, this can cause paralysis, aphasia, blindness..."
Joram turned his head and looked at the Druid in panic. "It didn't happen in—" He broke off.
"Happened to him? Your friend?" This Zelda La is a well-known venomous character. "No. You should thank Emin and me for this. Your friend is a strong person, otherwise he would have been crushed by the psychological burden. His own healing ability is good. With the help of the family saints—" Joram saw Mary standing by the bed in the room, and glanced at him. "—to restore him to health. He'll be weak for days to come, but he'll be all right. As good as he can be." Zeldarah let go of Joram's hand. "Unless the secret is ripped out of him, it will suck his life out. Watch what he eats and sleeps—"
"Will this happen again?"
"Sure, if he doesn't take care of himself. And next time... well, if there is a next time, there may be no chance of recovery. Give me the coat." Zelda La instructed the servant, and he immediately Disappeared to do so.
"I know the secret." Joram frowned thickly.
"Really?" Zelda looked at him in surprise.
"Yes," said Joram. "Why does this surprise you?"
She thought for a moment, pondering, then shook her head. "No." She said firmly. "You think you know, but you don't. I can feel it on these hands." She held out both hands. "It was buried so deep in his heart that even my prying into his heart couldn't touch it."
Zelda looked at Joram slyly and narrowed her eyes. "You mean he's keeping a secret for you, right? You're the living dead's secret. He can keep it from other people, but it's on the surface of his heart, and anyone who knows how to read minds like us It's easy for anyone to see. Oh, don't be so nervous! We Zeldalla obey an ancient oath to respect the privacy of our patients. This oath has been passed down from ancient times to the present day, from the greatest of our kind called Hippocrates As men who can see into hearts and souls, we must be sworn to secrecy."
She stretched out her arms, allowing the family mage to dress her in the cloak. "Now go see your friend. Talk to him. He's been sharing secrets for you. Let him know you're ready to share for him, too."
"I will." Joram said in a deep voice. "But I—" He shrugged helplessly. "I can't think of what that could be. I know this man very well, or I think I do. Any clues?"
Zelda was ready to go.
"Only a little." She checked whether her medicines were in their respective positions in the large wooden box she brought.After confirming that everything was normal, she looked up at Joran again. "Usually, the seizure is triggered by some kind of mental shock. Think back to what you were discussing when he had a seizure. That will give you a clue. Have another seizure." She shrugged. "There will be no next time. I'm afraid only Emin knows the answer to this matter."
"Thank you for saving him," said Joram.
"Hmm! I wish I could say the same thing to you!" Zeldalar nodded bitterly at last, ordered her wooden box to follow her, and then floated out of the corridor to Lord Samuels and Rosamund Madame said goodbye.
Qiao Lang watched her go away, recalling the scene in the study in his mind.He and Lord Samuels were discussing how to prove Joram's right to baronship.The young man couldn't recall what Saryon had said, but he was quick to admit that he hadn't paid any attention to the Catalyst Saints.His thoughts were centered on himself.What were the catalyst saints talking about before they fell?Joram tried to remember.
"Yes." He put his hand on his chest. "We're talking about scars here..."
Gwendelyn was in her room, sitting alone in the dark.Her eyes were red from crying, and now there were no more tears.Worried that her face would look red and swollen tomorrow morning, she washed her face with rose water. "Even if I can't talk to Joram, he will come to see me." She sat in front of the dressing table and said to herself. The cold radiance of the bright moon was enhanced by Sihana's magic, covering Marilon with a pearly luster.The moonlight fell on Ge Wen, but she couldn't see its beauty, but felt that it made her feel cold.The moon's cold eyes looked at her tears with indifference and sympathy, and the pale moonlight reflected her skin, making the warm flesh and blood look like a corpse. Gwen preferred the company of darkness, so she got up and closed the curtain herself—she usually did it with a wave and magic.But she was exhausted physically and mentally, and there was no magic power left. Lord Samuels had heard Celdarra's diagnosis, and she said Father Dunstable would be well in the morning.So he told his daughter not to speak to Joram, nor to visit her, until the question of the young man's inheritance was fully settled. "I wouldn't accuse him of being a fake," said Lord Samuels to his weeping daughter, who flung herself into her mother's arms. "I take him at his word. But if it's not proven, he's a nobody. A man with no fortune, no family background. He's—" Sir shrugged resignedly. "A serf mage! That's what he was, and he'll be if he can't justly rise to a higher position! Worse than ever, he's got to live in the shadow of scandal—" "That's not his fault!" Ge Wen shouted excitedly. "Why did he have to pay for his father's sin?" "I know, my dear," said Lord Samuels. "I'm sure everyone would think the same if he got the baronetship. I'm sorry it's turned out this way, Gwendolin." He said, stroking his daughter's hair lovingly.He truly doted on the child, and it broke his heart to see her so sad. "It was my fault," he said with a sigh. "Relationships like this were encouraged before I knew the facts, but at the time it seemed like a... good investment in your future..." "Things will get better, honey!" Mrs. Rosamund pushed the hair from her daughter's tearful eyes behind her ears. "The day after tomorrow is the Emperor's ball. The midwife will accompany Her Majesty. Your father will arrange a meeting with her to see if she recognizes Joram. If she does, how happy we shall be then! If not , think of the young nobles present at the ball, there will be someone who will be more than happy to help you erase this young man from your life." Erase this young man from your life.Ge Wen sat alone in the room, pressing her hands tightly to her aching heart, and lowered her head mournfully.An investment in your future. "Am I that heartless?" she asked herself. "Apart from the desire for wealth, and the longing for a relaxed, happy and playful life, is there no other emotion in my heart?" It must be.She thought guiltily, watching the moonlight fall on her surroundings, which the thin curtains could not block.I must have behaved like this, otherwise my parents would not have said such things. She thought of what she had said and dreamed a few days ago, and the guilt in her heart increased tenfold. "When I dreamed of Joram," she murmured. "I dreamed that he was dressed in fine clothes, instead of being so plain. I imagined him floating above his estate, with servants around him. Or galloping on horseback, taking part in extravagant hunts; or taking me The annual feudal inspection is conducted, and all the peasants bow to us respectfully..." She closed her red eyes. "But he's only a serf mage! A farmer—a man who bows! If he can't prove his claim to the inheritance, he'll probably have to go back and be a farmer. I can stand beside him with my feet in mud, yes Does anyone else grovel? . . . " For a moment she couldn't make up her mind.Fear overwhelmed her.She had never been to a village of serf mages before, but had heard of those people from Joram.She imagined that her snow-white skin was sunburned and blistered, her hair was tangled in the wind, and she was exhausted and sore all day long.She saw herself shuffling home from the fields, walking on the ground because she had no strength to float.But there was Joram at her side, walking with her back to their cabin.He would hold her in his arms and support her weary steps.They will go home together.She cooks a simple dinner for the two of them (“I think I can learn to cook,” she mutters.) while he watches their children play… Gwendelin blushed, and a warm current surged through her heart.child.The Catalyst Saints would perform a ritual to place his seed within her.She didn't know how they did it, because it was a topic my mother never talked about.No educated woman would mention such a thing.However, Ge Wen couldn't help feeling curious, this curiosity always came very strangely, it always appeared when she thought of Qiao Ran looking at her while eating, when his eyes lit up... This fiery warmth surged through Ge Wen's body, wrapping her in a sweet golden glow, which was brighter than the pale and cold moonlight in her eyes.She buried her head in her arms and began to cry again, but this time the tears came from a different mood, deeper and purer, from a source she had never known existed.These were tears of joy, for she knew that she loved Joram unselfishly.If he were a baron, she would love him; if he were a peasant, she would still love him.No matter what happened to him or where he went, she would be by his side, even if he went to the countryside... If Gwendelin really knew how harsh the life she planned to live with Joram was not in line with such a naive imagination, her heart, which felt the strong love of a mature woman for the first time, might hesitate. indefinite.The hut she imagined in her mind was at least five times the size of the real serf mage's dwelling.What she thought was a simple supper would feed a real peasant family for a month.In her sweet dreams, all her children were born healthy and thriving.There were no little graves dotting the rural landscape of her imagination. However, with her current mood, those might not be a problem.In fact, the harsher it was, the more likely she was to embrace it enthusiastically, because that would prove her love!She raised her head, tears glistening on her cheeks.She hoped that Joram would not inherit the title!She imagined his dejected look.She imagined her father grabbing her and pulling her away. "But I'll break free from his hand!" she said to herself in a voice almost holy. "I'll run to Joram and he'll hug me and we'll be together forever and ever..." "Forever and ever." She knelt down and clasped her hands together. "Please, Emin in heaven," she prayed under her breath. "Please give me a chance to tell him! Please." A sense of peace and satisfaction crept into her heart, and she smiled.Her prayers were answered.In any case, she would find a way to meet Joram secretly tomorrow and tell him these words.She leaned her head against the edge of the bed and closed her eyes.The moonlight passed through the thin curtain of the curtains, brushed over her lips, and froze that sweet smile.The tears on her pink cheeks dried in the moonlight. When Mary came in to check on her beloved child, she was taken aback. She quickly took the girl to bed and murmured a prayer to Emin. Everyone knows that anyone who sleeps too long in the moonlight is cursed by the moon's curse...
Joram spent the night by the catalyst saint's bedside.No moonlight illuminated his dark thoughts, for Zeldalar decided that the patient should not be disturbed by the unsettling influence of moonlight.The harp in the corner of the room continues to exert its soothing power - the music tells of a shepherd playing his reed pipe, thanking the morning light for taking his guard down at night so that he can rest in peace.A crystal ball hovered over the Catalyst Saint, casting soft light on his face, driving away the terror lurking in the darkness.There is also a crystal ball beside it, bubbling medicinal liquid, exuding the fragrance of purifying the heart, lungs and blood. It was not yet known how much this would be of use to Saryon, for according to Zeldalar the secret of Joram's true identity was more deadly to him than a growing malignant tumor.No medicine could rid it of its poison, no Zeldalar's healing powers could trigger the body's own resistance against this destructive force.Saryon fell asleep under Zeldalar's sleeping spell, apparently oblivious to everything around him.Forgetfulness might be the only cure that would help him now, and it would be only temporary, as the spell's power would soon wear off and he would have to fight the burden again. However, if the pleasant music and fragrant medicine did not work on the catalyst saints, it did benefit Joram.Joram sat at the bedside of the man who had done so much for himself - so much and received so little thanks, the young man remembered vividly the sense of loss he had experienced when he thought the Catalyst Saint was dead and loneliness. "You understand me, Father." He shook the thin hand on the sheet. "No one else can. Not Mosiah, nor Sim'jin. They all know magic, they have life force. You know, Saryon, that thirst for magic! Do you remember? You told Me. You told me as a kid how you hated Emin for making you a Catalyst saint and how He didn't let you have magic. "Forgive me! I was so blind, so blind!" Joram bowed his head against the saint's hand. "Emin!" he whispered, choking in pain. "I looked into my soul, and what I saw was a gloomy and disgusting beast! Prince Garald was right, I used to enjoy killing for pleasure, and I enjoyed the power that killing gave me! Now I understand the fundamental It's not strength, it's weakness, it's cowardice. I can't face myself, I can't face my enemies, I can only sneak up from behind and attack them when they are helpless! If it weren't for Jarod With you, Father, I might have become that sullen, hideous beast in my heart. Were it not for you, and Gwendelyn, whose love has brought light to my soul." Joram looked up, staring at his hands in disgust. "But how could I touch her with such bloody hands? You're right, Saryon!" He stood up excitedly. "We have to go! But we can't!" He stopped and turned sideways. "How can I go? She's my light! Without her, I'd plunge headfirst into darkness again. The truth. I've got to tell her the truth. Tell her everything! I'm the living dead. I'm a murderer... Finally, after explaining From now on, things won't be too bad... The overseer killed my mother. I'm in danger. That's self-defense." Joram sat down next to Saryon again. "Heisuo is an evil person, he deserves to die, ten times is enough to make up for the harm he has done to others. I will let her see the situation. I will let her understand the truth. She will forgive me, just like you forgive me Same, Father. With her and your love and understanding, I shall be purified..." Qiao Lang stopped talking, listening to the piano softly singing the lullaby of the mother coaxing the baby in her arms to sleep.It failed to bring back comforting memories in the young man's heart, for Anya's lullaby was the dreadful story that told him night after night of his father's horrific execution. But Zelda La didn't know that this lullaby gave Saryon a nightmare.In the sleep of succumbing to the spell, he saw himself as a young deacon, standing in a deserted and silent corridor with a child wrapped in a blanket with the royal emblem.He heard himself humming softly the lullaby that would be the last sound the child would hear, and his own singing, muffled and choked with tears. The Catalyst Saint on the bed twitched and moaned, his head bobbing weakly on the pillow, as if refusing...or denying... Joram didn't understand what he meant, so he could only look at him sadly. "You will forgive me, will you, Father?" he asked softly. "I need your forgiveness..."
Gwendelyn was in her room, sitting alone in the dark.Her eyes were red from crying, and now there were no more tears.Worried that her face would look red and swollen tomorrow morning, she washed her face with rose water. "Even if I can't talk to Joram, he will come to see me." She sat in front of the dressing table and said to herself. The cold radiance of the bright moon was enhanced by Sihana's magic, covering Marilon with a pearly luster.The moonlight fell on Ge Wen, but she couldn't see its beauty, but felt that it made her feel cold.The moon's cold eyes looked at her tears with indifference and sympathy, and the pale moonlight reflected her skin, making the warm flesh and blood look like a corpse. Gwen preferred the company of darkness, so she got up and closed the curtain herself—she usually did it with a wave and magic.But she was exhausted physically and mentally, and there was no magic power left. Lord Samuels had heard Celdarra's diagnosis, and she said Father Dunstable would be well in the morning.So he told his daughter not to speak to Joram, nor to visit her, until the question of the young man's inheritance was fully settled. "I wouldn't accuse him of being a fake," said Lord Samuels to his weeping daughter, who flung herself into her mother's arms. "I take him at his word. But if it's not proven, he's a nobody. A man with no fortune, no family background. He's—" Sir shrugged resignedly. "A serf mage! That's what he was, and he'll be if he can't justly rise to a higher position! Worse than ever, he's got to live in the shadow of scandal—" "That's not his fault!" Ge Wen shouted excitedly. "Why did he have to pay for his father's sin?" "I know, my dear," said Lord Samuels. "I'm sure everyone would think the same if he got the baronetship. I'm sorry it's turned out this way, Gwendolin." He said, stroking his daughter's hair lovingly.He truly doted on the child, and it broke his heart to see her so sad. "It was my fault," he said with a sigh. "Relationships like this were encouraged before I knew the facts, but at the time it seemed like a... good investment in your future..." "Things will get better, honey!" Mrs. Rosamund pushed the hair from her daughter's tearful eyes behind her ears. "The day after tomorrow is the Emperor's ball. The midwife will accompany Her Majesty. Your father will arrange a meeting with her to see if she recognizes Joram. If she does, how happy we shall be then! If not , think of the young nobles present at the ball, there will be someone who will be more than happy to help you erase this young man from your life." Erase this young man from your life.Ge Wen sat alone in the room, pressing her hands tightly to her aching heart, and lowered her head mournfully.An investment in your future. "Am I that heartless?" she asked herself. "Apart from the desire for wealth, and the longing for a relaxed, happy and playful life, is there no other emotion in my heart?" It must be.She thought guiltily, watching the moonlight fall on her surroundings, which the thin curtains could not block.I must have behaved like this, otherwise my parents would not have said such things. She thought of what she had said and dreamed a few days ago, and the guilt in her heart increased tenfold. "When I dreamed of Joram," she murmured. "I dreamed that he was dressed in fine clothes, instead of being so plain. I imagined him floating above his estate, with servants around him. Or galloping on horseback, taking part in extravagant hunts; or taking me The annual feudal inspection is conducted, and all the peasants bow to us respectfully..." She closed her red eyes. "But he's only a serf mage! A farmer—a man who bows! If he can't prove his claim to the inheritance, he'll probably have to go back and be a farmer. I can stand beside him with my feet in mud, yes Does anyone else grovel? . . . " For a moment she couldn't make up her mind.Fear overwhelmed her.She had never been to a village of serf mages before, but had heard of those people from Joram.She imagined that her snow-white skin was sunburned and blistered, her hair was tangled in the wind, and she was exhausted and sore all day long.She saw herself shuffling home from the fields, walking on the ground because she had no strength to float.But there was Joram at her side, walking with her back to their cabin.He would hold her in his arms and support her weary steps.They will go home together.She cooks a simple dinner for the two of them (“I think I can learn to cook,” she mutters.) while he watches their children play… Gwendelin blushed, and a warm current surged through her heart.child.The Catalyst Saints would perform a ritual to place his seed within her.She didn't know how they did it, because it was a topic my mother never talked about.No educated woman would mention such a thing.However, Ge Wen couldn't help feeling curious, this curiosity always came very strangely, it always appeared when she thought of Qiao Ran looking at her while eating, when his eyes lit up... This fiery warmth surged through Ge Wen's body, wrapping her in a sweet golden glow, which was brighter than the pale and cold moonlight in her eyes.She buried her head in her arms and began to cry again, but this time the tears came from a different mood, deeper and purer, from a source she had never known existed.These were tears of joy, for she knew that she loved Joram unselfishly.If he were a baron, she would love him; if he were a peasant, she would still love him.No matter what happened to him or where he went, she would be by his side, even if he went to the countryside... If Gwendelin really knew how harsh the life she planned to live with Joram was not in line with such a naive imagination, her heart, which felt the strong love of a mature woman for the first time, might hesitate. indefinite.The hut she imagined in her mind was at least five times the size of the real serf mage's dwelling.What she thought was a simple supper would feed a real peasant family for a month.In her sweet dreams, all her children were born healthy and thriving.There were no little graves dotting the rural landscape of her imagination. However, with her current mood, those might not be a problem.In fact, the harsher it was, the more likely she was to embrace it enthusiastically, because that would prove her love!She raised her head, tears glistening on her cheeks.She hoped that Joram would not inherit the title!She imagined his dejected look.She imagined her father grabbing her and pulling her away. "But I'll break free from his hand!" she said to herself in a voice almost holy. "I'll run to Joram and he'll hug me and we'll be together forever and ever..." "Forever and ever." She knelt down and clasped her hands together. "Please, Emin in heaven," she prayed under her breath. "Please give me a chance to tell him! Please." A sense of peace and satisfaction crept into her heart, and she smiled.Her prayers were answered.In any case, she would find a way to meet Joram secretly tomorrow and tell him these words.She leaned her head against the edge of the bed and closed her eyes.The moonlight passed through the thin curtain of the curtains, brushed over her lips, and froze that sweet smile.The tears on her pink cheeks dried in the moonlight. When Mary came in to check on her beloved child, she was taken aback. She quickly took the girl to bed and murmured a prayer to Emin. Everyone knows that anyone who sleeps too long in the moonlight is cursed by the moon's curse...
Joram spent the night by the catalyst saint's bedside.No moonlight illuminated his dark thoughts, for Zeldalar decided that the patient should not be disturbed by the unsettling influence of moonlight.The harp in the corner of the room continues to exert its soothing power - the music tells of a shepherd playing his reed pipe, thanking the morning light for taking his guard down at night so that he can rest in peace.A crystal ball hovered over the Catalyst Saint, casting soft light on his face, driving away the terror lurking in the darkness.There is also a crystal ball beside it, bubbling medicinal liquid, exuding the fragrance of purifying the heart, lungs and blood. It was not yet known how much this would be of use to Saryon, for according to Zeldalar the secret of Joram's true identity was more deadly to him than a growing malignant tumor.No medicine could rid it of its poison, no Zeldalar's healing powers could trigger the body's own resistance against this destructive force.Saryon fell asleep under Zeldalar's sleeping spell, apparently oblivious to everything around him.Forgetfulness might be the only cure that would help him now, and it would be only temporary, as the spell's power would soon wear off and he would have to fight the burden again. However, if the pleasant music and fragrant medicine did not work on the catalyst saints, it did benefit Joram.Joram sat at the bedside of the man who had done so much for himself - so much and received so little thanks, the young man remembered vividly the sense of loss he had experienced when he thought the Catalyst Saint was dead and loneliness. "You understand me, Father." He shook the thin hand on the sheet. "No one else can. Not Mosiah, nor Sim'jin. They all know magic, they have life force. You know, Saryon, that thirst for magic! Do you remember? You told Me. You told me as a kid how you hated Emin for making you a Catalyst saint and how He didn't let you have magic. "Forgive me! I was so blind, so blind!" Joram bowed his head against the saint's hand. "Emin!" he whispered, choking in pain. "I looked into my soul, and what I saw was a gloomy and disgusting beast! Prince Garald was right, I used to enjoy killing for pleasure, and I enjoyed the power that killing gave me! Now I understand the fundamental It's not strength, it's weakness, it's cowardice. I can't face myself, I can't face my enemies, I can only sneak up from behind and attack them when they are helpless! If it weren't for Jarod With you, Father, I might have become that sullen, hideous beast in my heart. Were it not for you, and Gwendelyn, whose love has brought light to my soul." Joram looked up, staring at his hands in disgust. "But how could I touch her with such bloody hands? You're right, Saryon!" He stood up excitedly. "We have to go! But we can't!" He stopped and turned sideways. "How can I go? She's my light! Without her, I'd plunge headfirst into darkness again. The truth. I've got to tell her the truth. Tell her everything! I'm the living dead. I'm a murderer... Finally, after explaining From now on, things won't be too bad... The overseer killed my mother. I'm in danger. That's self-defense." Joram sat down next to Saryon again. "Heisuo is an evil person, he deserves to die, ten times is enough to make up for the harm he has done to others. I will let her see the situation. I will let her understand the truth. She will forgive me, just like you forgive me Same, Father. With her and your love and understanding, I shall be purified..." Qiao Lang stopped talking, listening to the piano softly singing the lullaby of the mother coaxing the baby in her arms to sleep.It failed to bring back comforting memories in the young man's heart, for Anya's lullaby was the dreadful story that told him night after night of his father's horrific execution. But Zelda La didn't know that this lullaby gave Saryon a nightmare.In the sleep of succumbing to the spell, he saw himself as a young deacon, standing in a deserted and silent corridor with a child wrapped in a blanket with the royal emblem.He heard himself humming softly the lullaby that would be the last sound the child would hear, and his own singing, muffled and choked with tears. The Catalyst Saint on the bed twitched and moaned, his head bobbing weakly on the pillow, as if refusing...or denying... Joram didn't understand what he meant, so he could only look at him sadly. "You will forgive me, will you, Father?" he asked softly. "I need your forgiveness..."