THE WATCHERS REVIVE

By the time he got to the village, he was out of breath for he had been running. An old woman came out to meet him and the shock on her face when she saw what he carried almost made her faint.
“The baby...help my child” was all he could say before his eyes fell shut.
The watchers had never seen such bravery and wisdom in all the inhabitants of the earth and they made sure that Jorgan lived another day.
Jorgan knew that he ought to have been dead for in his tussle between life and death, light and darkness he heard voices, like men in a bargain. The price for his life he heard had been paid and death had no hold over him. He heard voices but saw nothing for his eyes were dark as darkness could be.  He tried to speak but his voice was not in his throat; he searched for himself but he could lay no hold on his body. He felt not his feet nor his arms, his hair nor his clothes and then the voices ceased. All he heard was silence pure and unhindered. There was no stair in the silence until he heard another set of voices.
The village healer had been doing all his best to bring Jorgan back to life but he had seemed to dive in deeper. He was at a loss on what to do until one afternoon Jorgan came out of his hut to the surprise of everyone.