Knights Against the Night Part 30

They never covered this in the academy. Not in any of the lessons Bolt attended, not in any of the books he had studied, not a word from any of his teachers.

There was a shadow in Chester's eyes, a shadow that had been there all along and Bolt hadn't seen.

"I don't understand." It was several days later, and they had barely spoken. Chester had retreated behind his masks, and Bolt had no idea how to talk to him, not after seeing what he had seen.

Chester looked over to him, his eyes dark althrough his face appeared calm, his ears were held high.

"You are rather young." His voice was calm, almost teasing if not for the string in his voice.

"Will I...?" Bolt asked, he had to know. 

Chester's expression darkened. "They didn't cover this in the academy?"

"I... no." Bolt shifted, "I don't think so...?"

Chester huffed, looked away. "Then they are sending people out to get slaughtered."

Bolt flinched and looked away. Chester growled at him, before forcing himself to lie down.

“I am dying.” Chester said, so mildly and with a forced calm, a tone Bolt was starting to recognise as the rabbit barely hanging on to his temper.

Oh.

“Why?” Bolt asked, then clasped his paw over his mouth.

Chester didn’t react, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers.

“My magic is running out.”

Again the voice was calm, but Bolt didn’t believe it for a second.

“But...” Bolt hesitated, he hadn’t paid too much attention to that in the academy, registering that the initial investment of magic from the workshop was enough to last for decades.

“How old are you?” Bolt asked, he knew Chester was a hand me down, but...

“Seventeen.” Chester replied.

Decades. More than one. Not more than two?

“Can’t we...” Bolt gestured helplessly, there must be a way.

Suddenly the house seemed much more sparse than before, much too big for the small lives that lived there.

Chester’s approaching death seemed too sudden, too real, it made his head spin.

“Recharge me?” Chester asked, a broken laugh breaking free. “How? She’s dead. Gone. No more.”