I’m skipping ahead a little.
The surprising thing about being elf-shot was how painless it was. It was not just the lack of physical agony, either. Joseph literally felt nothing right now, including fear, despair, or even boredom. He had always assumed that elf-shot prisoners spent their last hours upon hours contemplating their crimes before being revived and carted off to the guillotine. Actually going through it himself was quite the eye-opener.
Well. His eyes were still closed. Elf-shot did not prevent blinks from starting, but it did keep them from ending. It also affected memory more than Joseph had anticipated; from the smell of things, he had beshat and pissed himself at least once each, but he had no recollection of doing so. He was remarkably calm about that, too.
From the sounds of battle in the distance, he must have been in this state for some time. Or were they in the distance? Joseph had this odd, nagging suspicion that the fighting was actually getting closer to him, but any attempt to focus on the moment proved fruitless, without even resentment at his failure to show for it. He supposed that eventually he’d know, one way or the other. It would have been something to look forward to, but he wasn’t capable of that either right now.
