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"Slept in a bit late, but he's finally coming around!" a woman announced cheerily. "I told you he'd pull through!"
"Telatl's always been a fighter," he recognized his father's voice. Telkoran sounded very worried. "After what he's lost though... I almost didn't want him to."
"Oh, he'll get over it, there are worse things to lose," the woman replied. "He's lucky he only lost that, he could easily not have had the chance of waking up at all."
"What exactly did I lose?" Telatl asked, opening his eyes. It took a bit of effort, but at least his hangover wasn't too bad. He'd still be able to run the race on the actual course.
"Ah! Telatl! Awake and kicking, I see!" the woman, who he now recognized as the newly assigned healer, sang. "Why don't you go back to sleep, hun? You've been through a lot and you're not going anywhere anytime soon."
"What do you mean?" Telatl demanded, sitting up in the uncomfortably small infirmary cot. "I have a race to run today! What time is it anyway? I'd better be warming up. I'm facing Surindi today, you know."
"Telatl... I don't know how to say this... but..." Telkoran began but was unable to finish. He just shook his head and walked away, shoulder's shaking quietly with his sobs.
"What in Faranth's name is going on here?" Telatl demanded. "What have I lost? And why is my father crying? Am I missing something here?"
"Telatl, the fight you got in last sevenday..." the healer sat down on the edge of his bed, obviously preparing to deliver devastating news.
"Last sevenday!?" Telatl exploded before she could continue. "You mean I've been sleeping for a sevenday?"
"Let me finish, Telatl," the healer told him, voice serious and business like, the sing-song quality gone without a trace. "When you were found after your fight, you were in pretty bad shape. Your left leg took an especially bad beating. We got you back here as fast as we could and we did all we could, but we couldn't save it. We had to amputate your leg to save your life."
Telatl listened to this with a stone face, his mind not trusting what his ears told it. His leg couldn't possibly be gone. What a stupid idea! He needed his legs to run that race! He'd have to forfeit to Surindi otherwise. "You're kidding."
"Not about that," the healer sighed. "Though Faranth knows I wish I were. You'll be fine, except that you'll have to use crutches for the rest of your life. But things could be worse. You could be dead."
Telatl chuckled and lifted the thin cover. There was his right leg, the toned, running machine he'd worked so hard to build. And next to it was a disgusting stump. Not his left leg. A stump that ended a handspan above where his knee should have been. He looked up at the healer, trying very hard not to cry. "How will I run races with crutches?"
The healer placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm afraid, Telatl, that your racing days are over." Without another word, she got up and left Telatl to think about his fate as a one-legged cripple. At least, that was how Telatl saw it.
It didn't take Telatl long to decide what he wanted: he wanted to die. He couldn't run, he couldn't walk. He was a useless, one-legged cripple. Whatever he did, whoever he lived with, he'd always be a burden to whoever was stuck with him. Like that decrepit old man who had died last winter: useless to everyone, just a burden. He'd be better off dead.
Lamira cane in to see him the day he awoke. "Hey sweetie," she cooed as she sat next to him. "I heard Surindi got you pretty bad."
Telatl managed a weak smile. "Yeah, he got me alright. Made sure he'd never have to face me, on the track, or off."
"No way Tel, once you're better, you and me are going to go kick his sorry hind-end!" Lamira told him in a sweet voice.
"I'm never going to be better," Telatl reminded her grimly. "I can't kick anything. I'd fall down if I tried."
"Don't be too happy," Lamira scoffed. "C'mon, things could be worse! At least, what's really important is still in tact... unless there's something you need to tell me."
Telatl chuckled. "You have a one track mind, Lamira. And you can check for yourself if you're that curious."
Lamira blushed slightly but grinned. "Not while there're people around! But if you'll let me check, I trust you're all right where it counts."
"But my leg... racing..." Telatl sighed. "Thanks for trying to cheer me up, but I'll never be anything but a useless cripple. I'll never run again, I'll walk too slow to do much of anything. What good am I without my leg?"
"Trust me, I'm not interested in your leg," Lamira purred and planted a light kiss on his forehead. "And no other woman who really matters would be either. I'll be back to see you later, and you'd better be feeling better!"
"Is that a threat?" Telatl called after her as she started for the door.
"Try me," Lamira shot back and then left the infirmary, letting the doors swing closed behind her with a decisive crack.
Lamira's words lifted his spirits for some time, but eventually Telatl's thoughts brought him back to the cold truth that he was nothing but a cripple. He might be a handsome cripple, but he was still a cripple. He'd always be a burden to someone, a fate that didn't sit too well with Telatl.
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