Known Afterlife (The Provider Trilogy: Volume I)
Page 45
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I send you in my place Steffor so that we may all return. Trust in those I send you to, for they are our closest allies and are the key to our salvation.
I understand. I miss you already.
As I do you.
"He is coming to. Heartbeat is elevated but nothing critical. The strange anomaly in his brainwave activity persists, but it does not seem to be to affecting other vitals," a woman said.
"No turning back now," replied a man.
Steffor heard the voices with intimate detail. The women's voice was foreign yet her tone conveyed undeniable compassion for him.
The man was not familiar either but he too had a caring hitch in his voice.
"Communication skills may be one of the last processes to connect, so take it slow," said a second man's voice.
"Can he hear us now?" The voice of a third man inquired, not devoid of emotion but more business like compared to the other three.
Steffor opened his eyes. The periphery of his vision was blurry, as if smeared with a transparent gel, so that all he could see at first were the four strangers before him, the people he assumed were the ones talking earlier. Sensing these were the allies the Provider spoke of, he studied each with intent purpose.
The sooner I understand, the sooner I return to Calivera.
The woman to his far left was beautiful: rich auburn hair with intelligent hazel-green eyes, her strange clothing revealed the fetching figure of woman in the prime of her youth. She met his eyes with joyful tears freely rolling down her cheeks and a loving smile.
The man to her left, twenty years her senior, was average in height with thick waves of black and white hair. Despite the haggard look on his oval face, he had a jovial demeanor about him and an easy smile that was comforting to the soul.
The man to his left was an imposing figure. Short in stature with a shaved head, Steffor depicted the chiseled form of a warrior beneath the dark fitted jacket and white collared shirt. Steffor read the slight raise in the corner of the man's mouth as a deferent gesture. This one is guarded, prepared for action.
The last person was the most striking. Tall, broad shoulders with slender waist, the man's comfortable looking clothes hung perfectly to his muscular frame. A short crop of jet-black hair and tight beard framed his handsome face. He too was crying freely when he said, "Welcome back Muzar."