Aftermath Chapter Three
Sep. 12th, 2010 12:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22a/n: Because I'm pants at resisting temptation and now's as good a time as any, I bring to you chapter three! Go back to the beginning here if you are a new reader. And enjoy!
Title: Aftermath
Genre: Fantasy, Action, Drama, Gen (aka no focus on romance, either het or slash)
Size: approximately 81K words
Warnings: some graphic images, memories of past torture, violence, strong language
Summary: Seven heroes try to pick up the pieces after vanquishing evil and protecting what is most important to them. But nightmares haunt the night, and restless stirrings keep them wandering. The real battle begins as they struggle to remember what it means to have a normal life.
Rai whistles, raising a brow at the sight before him.
“My sentiments exactly,” Haiden agrees, pulling his dapple-grey mare to a halt.
Before them, part of a once verdant forest is charred and lifeless, while the other half remains green despite encroaching autumn. A river seems to flow out of nowhere, winding down the slope and disappearing into a small dip in the ground. A pall hangs over the house that stands in the middle of it, the air above it appearing darker than the blue sky can break.
Something is definitely wrong with Loka.
Subtle questioning in Yule revealed that Loka and Gaelin lived on the outskirts. The townsfolk had given both men strange looks for inquiring about the mage, and it quickly became evident that they considered Loka to be crazed. They spoke of strange behavior and the working of magick at odd hours of the night when normal people would be sleeping.
Rai finds himself agreeing with the skittish townsfolk. There is a definite sense of something not-quite-right that has Rai pulling the reins and sliding off Flynt. The atmosphere is utterly silent, not even a cricket or a bird chirping. It's as if the wind itself has stopped, since not a one of the remaining leaves rustle.
Rai loops the reins around the saddle horn and unbuckles his sword from the saddle. The feeling of threat hasn't faded, and he feels as though he's being watched closely, by dozens of inhuman eyes. It's not unlike the awareness right before an ambush.
Rai isn't comforted until his sword is a welcome weight across his back. Though he has the feeling that the enemy here is neither physical nor visible. He looks at Loka's house which, though bathed in shadows in the middle of the afternoon, appears immaculate. The vines are trimmed, the siding is clean, and there is a string of laundry drying off to the side. White sheets hang listless and still.
“I don't like this,” Rai voices aloud, and winces when his words echo too vibrantly.
Haiden shakes his head and drops down from Kender. “We're already here,” he says, as though that means it is too late for them to back out now.
Rai would like to argue otherwise. Instead, he follows Haiden who heads straight for the single-story structure, picking his way across the grassy ground. Bits and pieces of rock are scattered across the grass, looking as if some boulder had shattered, leaving only its innards behind.
The closer they draw to the house, the more Rai's apprehension grows, and he has always been one to rely on his instincts. Rai can feel the dread settling in his chest, squeezing his lungs.
The dying hydrangeas to Rai's right suddenly rustle, a sound too loud for the unnatural silence and Rai whirls toward the offensive leaves. His sword is in his hand before he thinks about it, the sound of metal sliding from sheath banishing the quiet as Haiden matches Rai's reaction.
Through a breath of silence Rai's senses strain to detect anything. Expecting a Ruhin to leap from the hydrangeas, Rai is stupefied when a small, brown-haired blur careens out of the bush and heads straight for him. Dirt-stained fingers grasp at Rai's tunic as a very familiar face buries itself into the dark folds of his shirt.
Rai blinks, dropping his guard and lowering his blade. “Gaelin?” he guesses, looking down at the child attached to his front. “Is that you?”
Brown eyes glistening with tears tilt up toward Rai, and the boy nods. Beneath the dirt streaked over his face, Rai is sure that Gaelin is somewhere. Though it will take a good scrubbing with hot water and soap to really tell.
Rai exchanges a quick glance with Haiden as the grip on his tunic tightens, Gaelin tugging to get his attention. He takes a closer look at the boy and curses under his breath. One cheek has the shadow of a bruise, the eye above the bruise swelling. Some of Gaelin's clothes appear singed.
“Why were you in the woods?” Rai demands, looking past the boy to the forest. Had he been attacked by some beast?
Gaelin shakes his head, and it's not really an answer. Not that Gaelin can verbally give him one anyway since the child has been mute since Loka found him. Not by birth, but by choice, according to the mage.
Gaelin trembles as he clings to Rai. And though he is not comfortable with it, Rai can't find it in him to push Gaelin away either. Terror reflects in the boy's dark eyes and Rai is not so much an ogre that he can deny Gaelin a small measure of comfort.
Kneeling beside Gaelin, Haiden attempts to gather his attention. “Where's Loka?” he questions gently, fingers carefully inspecting the boy's injuries. They are not too serious, mostly scrapes and bruises. “Do you know, Gaelin?”
Gaelin looks over his own shoulder at the house. It is as much answer as the two men will receive.
Loathe to leave the child by himself, Rai allows Gaelin to stay attached to his side. Though it is obvious that the boy is reluctant, hiding further behind Rai with every step they take toward the silent house.
The front door is open, swaying back and forth with an ominous creak, and Haiden is the first to enter, his sense of responsibility driving him more than anything else. Rai lets him lead, not at all eager to be the first to enter the proverbial lion's den. Inside, the house is silent and deathly still, swathed in darkness as all the curtains have been drawn tightly over the windows. A single, dim lantern hangs from a hook in the wall to the right, and casts uneasy shadows throughout the main room.
It is there that they find Loka. She is sitting at the table on the opposite side of the lamp where the shadows obscure her face. Her motionless form sends a chill up Rai’s spine and the air smells faintly of smoke and fire, but he can't see any traces of either.
Haiden licks his lips anxiously. “Loka?” One booted boot makes a muffled thump as Haiden comes to a halt.
The mage stirs, and turns toward them slowly. One hand lies placidly across the table, and as Haiden approaches, Loka curls her fingers, her nails scratching across the polished surface. It is an eerie sound that makes Rai's skin crawl.
“Haiden,” Loka acknowledges, her voice hoarse and soft as a whisper. “You came.”
The chair slides back with a defining screech of wood on wood and Loka rises to her feet, turning toward them with a single, lurching step. “I had hoped you would.”
Loka stops, half-in and half-out of the light provided by the meager torch. Her upper body and face are still bathed in shadows, but Rai can see her hands dangling at her sides. Every finger twitches, as though missing the grip of something. And he is suddenly glad that there is only one lamp.
“Oh yes, indeed, I had hoped,” the mage repeats strangely, and abruptly giggles, an eerie, girlish sound that doesn't fit her character in the slightest.
Behind Rai, Gaelin makes a noise halfway between a squeak and a gurgle. He is peering around Rai's bulk with only one eye, as though seeing with both would make it that much more frightening. The sense of unease seems to fill the room until Rai feels like he's choking on it.
He's very, very ready to get the hell out.
Bravely, Haiden watches her. “Your letter was vague,” he says. “What's going on, Loka?”
She chuckles and one hand lifts to pat down the front of her clothes, fingers obsessively running over the knot in her over robe. “I didn't know it would come to this,” she says, and her voice sounds repentant. Until it suddenly switches timbre, as if she is of two minds. “I was so, so arrogant. And I had great reason to be.”
Loka lurches another step forward, into the light, revealing the lines of her face and the burning green of her eyes. Something flickers across her face, like sparks of blue lightning, and her eyes are glassy, as though she were on some strong opiate. Her normally flawless hair lies around her skeletal face like greasy strings and her tan complexion is streaked pale and dull, like a corpse come to life.
Loka has always been thin. Rai remembers her being tall and willowy, not like the voluptuous women he preferred, but attractive in her own right. Elegant and graceful, a dancer if not for her love of magick. But this... this creature standing before Rai is not thin, but literal flesh and bones, as though her leathery skin had been pulled tight across her skeleton. As though something has come along and sucked the very life out of her.
Gaelin's fingers tighten around Rai's clothes and they tug, as if trying to pull him toward the doorway. He makes that sound again, like a frightened rabbit, and Rai realizes that Gaelin’s fear is of Loka herself, and not of some creature in the woods. Gaelin had been hiding from his caretaker.
“What have you been doing to Gaelin?” Rai demands, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is going on, Loka!”
He ignores the warning Haiden’s eyes shoots his direction. Loka is acting strange and it would probably be best not to antagonize her. But damn it, Rai wants some answers.
Rai's hand falls to Gaelin's head, comforting the boy with the weight of his touch. His father had done the same for him at his mother's funeral and he could still remember how much it had consoled him.
The mage cocks her head to the side, tongue sliding out of her mouth to lick across her lips in a vaguely serpentine motion. “The fifth,” she responds with a happy lilt, one hand gesturing toward the ceiling with a sharp motion. Her strangely immaculate sleeve slides down, revealing a bony wrist, marred by reddened lines that still look to be bleeding. “That was my folly. But I needed her to break the seal, you see. I needed, needed, needed.”
Her next step crackles and there is the distinct smell of burning wood, acrid and sharp. Rai glances down to see the flooring beneath Loka’s bare feet begin to blacken and curl away from her. The house gives a great shudder around them and more of the blue lightning arcs across Loka's face, making her appearance ethereal.
Haiden swallows thickly, exchanging a quick glance with Rai. There is clearly something magickal that is the cause of it all, and neither of them have any knowledge of the arts. They are out of their element, with a child to protect, a friend to save, and no idea what to do.
“We came to help you,” Haiden says quietly, but Rai notices that his hand drops to his sword, fingers lingering near the hilt. Haiden has taken more than one step backward; apparently even his courage has limits.
Loka chuckles again, her eyes flashing iridescent, like the flash of a beetle's shell in the sun. “There's no helping me now, Haiden. It's far too late.”
Beneath them, the floor rattles ominously and Rai swears that the earth is shifting. The ground rolling and swaying with every surge of power that he can feel licking at his skin. He can practically taste the magick in the air. He is starting to think that Loka is right and wonders if it might be too late to help her.
Loka moves and stumbles, her hand smacking out flat against the wall to catch her balance. Where her palm touches the wood, it instantly scorches, sending up a thin stream of grey. And when she regains her balance and removes her hand, a perfect print remains, still smoldering.
Loka's forward gait is lumbering and uncoordinated as though she doesn't have any control over her body. Her eyes are bloodshot to match the drugged glaze. She looks like a woman on the edge of her sanity, or perhaps she has already teetered over.
The two men retreat in tandem, and Gaelin ducks behind Rai, fingers grasping the back of Rai's tunic. Rai finds himself standing a little straighter, using the bulk of his body to hide the boy from the mage's view. Loka doesn't appear to be paying much attention to the kid though. Her poison-green gaze is locked on Haiden, and behind the blankness, there is a quiver of recognition.
“I just... I need you to do me this one favor,” Loka says, sounding for once like herself. There is a spark of clarity in her voice. “I've been holding it in until you but... I can't... not anymore. And just... Gaelin.”
It is stuttered and barely comprehensible, but Haiden seems to get the gist of it. “You can't fight it?” he asks quietly.
She shakes her head and one hand rises to clutch at her skull, nearly tearing out lengths of long blond hair. Blood dribbles out of her nose and Loka angrily swipes it away. “I tried. Solan knows I tried but I guess I wasn't strong enough after all.” A bitter laugh escapes her lips. “They've come to claim their due.”
It doesn't make any sense. None of this does. Rai wants to say as much, but he's driven to a stunned sort of silence. Much like Haiden. He wants to back away slowly, find the door, and never look back. But then sharp green eyes seem to find him, despite the madness, and Loka grins crookedly.
“Rai...” she murmurs, her voice cracking. “Take care of him for me, please. Rai. I know he likes you. Rai. Please. Rai.”
She is repeating herself. And her voice, once a melodious, throaty timbre, is varying in pitch. As though there are more than one personality within her, and every one of them are trying to speak their whims.
Rai feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up as something crackles through the air. A strong smell of sulphur, like the air before a violent summer storm. Like one of her favorite magick attacks, streaks of lightning that burn through her opponents in a wicked burst of jagged gold.
Loka shudders and she clutches at her abdomen as though trying to hold herself together. “My dear Gaelin,” Loka murmurs and looks at him, the child she raised as her own. The boy she surely loves as much as her own flesh and blood. “Sweet Gaelin, forgive me. I just... I just wanted...”
Loka's eyes brim with tears and she sags toward the floor, fingers gripping so tightly that they are white-knuckled. “I'm so, so sorry. So sorry.” Fire licks around her feet, hungrily spreading across the floor as they back toward the door, though Haiden lingers.
Always the bloody hero, Haiden is. He thinks he can help, always believing that there is more he is capable of doing, anything to save just one more life.
Loka glares at them, all the life gone from her eyes, her face pale and bloodless. Lips a thin smear in her expression. Something flickers behind the mask of her face, stretched taut against the angularity of her bones. As though something is trying to break free, and succeeding more and more with each passing moment.
“Run. By Solan, run.” The last is very nearly a scream, torn from the depths of her body and screeching past her lips in obvious command.
They don't need to be told twice.
Feeling a fear unlike anything he has ever experienced, Rai scoops Gaelin up into his arms and throws himself out the door, Haiden a step behind them. Loka's scream, like a thousand voices crying out in agony, follows in their wake. It rattles in their eardrums, until Rai feels like his brain is bleeding out his ears.
Rai manages only two steps from the house before it explodes, flame and lightning and wind blasting in all directions. Rai dives, hitting the earth with one shoulder as he puts himself between the house and Gaelin, who is shaking, tear-ridden. Somewhere beside him is a muffled thump as Haiden hits the dirt, cursing, as grief-stricken as Gaelin. Rai is ashamed of himself for his terror.
Debris batters their bodies, and the wind shrieks, viciously twisting as though finally freed from a prison. A piece of the rubble strikes Rai's weak shoulder and he curses fluently as pain rips through him. Groaning, he presses himself more firmly against the ground, curling his body around Gaelin's. There is nothing to do but ride out the storm, the magick ferociously attacking their bodies as though given physical form.
A terrible shriek rises up from the home behind them and Rai peers over his shoulder, eyes slitted against the lashing wind. The voice is Loka's, but it is mixed with others. And on the edge of the scream, something laughs maniacally. Rai is pressed to call it Loka.
The flames rise higher and higher, and he thinks he might see a body standing in the midst of it. But in the next instance, the vague outline is gone and the horrible sound abruptly ends, the silence broken by only by the crackling flame.
Gaelin struggles beneath Rai, scrambling free and making a dash for the building, where the fire seems to be shrinking, pulling into itself. The earth rumbles ominously, giving a groan of dismay. A warning shudders down Rai's spine and he acts without thinking, throwing his body forward and wrapping his arms around Gaelin.
“No,” he growls, pulling the boy away from the house. Gaelin fights it, twisting and squirming in his hold like a fish out of water.
Rai manages to scoot a few steps backward, pulling Gaelin with him, before the ground beneath the house gives a great heave. A boulder shoots upward, spilling rock and vegetation everywhere. Its massive form reaches for the sky and then abruptly topples over, completely crushing the remains of Loka's house.
Rai can only watch as the earth continues to rumble, groaning and shifting as it steadily buries the home beneath tons of soil. When the dust clears and the land stills, there is nothing left of Loka's house but the laundry line, one half still connected to the massive trunk of a nearby oak. It seems utterly peaceful, except that the unnatural quiet makes the entire area feel like a graveyard.
Gaelin rips free from Rai's hold and Rai lets him loose, hoping that the danger has passed. The boy stumbles with unsteady legs toward the flat ground where the house had once sat.
Haiden and Rai slowly pick themselves up from the ground, brushing pieces of broken wood from their clothing. Blood drips from a cut in Haiden's forehead, and Rai's shoulder aches painfully, but there don’t appear to be any serious injuries.
Rai watches as Gaelin drops to his knees, his bare hands palming the smooth earth. Tears well up in large, brown eyes. Rai and Haiden can only watch helplessly as Gaelin sobs, fingers scraping at the dirt. His shoulders shake as his head bows, lost to his grief. Loka was the only mother he knew, and now she’s gone.
All that remains is the echo of her presence and her magick, the scent of ash on the air, and the final resonating strains of her last scream.
* * *
Rai pulls his blanket up over Gaelin's sleeping form, the boy finally dropping away out of exhaustion just a few minutes prior. His face is still streaked with dirt and ash, but he fought off attempts to be cleaned, even by Rai. So the two men had left him, tear tracks even more apparent through the grime.
Sighing, Rai shifts back against a tree trunk and stares across the campfire. Haiden leans against a log, dragged to their location for that purpose, honing his blade. The soft scrape of the pumice over the metal accompanies the crackling of the fire.
“He's finally asleep?” Haiden asks, focused on his blade as the stone skillfully passes over it.
Rai nods, pulling one knee toward his body and resting his arm atop it. He tilts his head back, watching the smoke lazily seek the sky through the overhanging branches of the oak. He can barely see the stars just beyond, faint glimmers of light. Loka's laundry line still hangs somewhere on the other side, white sheets far from clean.
“He's pretty exhausted,” Rai says, and rubs at his shoulder. It throbs where the debris smacked him, and he wishes he had a leaf of salica to chew on. Anything to dull the ache.
Haiden's gaze flickers to him and then back to his sword. “The arm still bothering you?”
“Always.” Rai falls silent and closes his eyes, feeling exhaustion attacking him.
They'd been absolutely helpless, unable to aid Loka. And even though he wasn't amenable to the idea at the start, it bothers Rai that they couldn't do anything for her. Nothing more than make a marker for the flat piece of earth that served as her final resting place. And now, they have Gaelin on their hands, and no idea what to do with him.
“Rai, what do you know about magick?” Haiden asks after a moment, tilting his blade to check the edge in the light of the fire.
Rai shrugs, his stomach grumbling but feeling too tired to do anything about it. “About as much as you. Jack shit.”
Which isn't exactly true. Rai knows as much as the common man. Magick requires both natural talent and hard work. One can't learn the spells without the blessing of the spirit who owns the associated element and there are six spirits for the six reigning natural elements. However, how all that relates to Loka and what happened, Rai isn’t sure as that is the extent of his knowledge.
“Thought so.” Haiden pauses, as though thinking of something. “Remember when Loka left the group for a while?”
“Yeah. She said it was because she was pissed at Suerte for lying to us, but I think she was fibbing herself. Why?”
The wind shifts, sending a flurry of smoke Haiden's direction before returning to its original course. The brief burst of grey momentarily obscures his face. “Loka said something once. That she was strong because of the four spirits. But earlier, she mentioned five. Maybe that has something to do with it... whatever it was.”
“And maybe she couldn't remember because she was out of her mind,” Rai retorts, remembering the eerie grin that the mage had been sporting. “Only another mage could answer that.”
Haiden rolls his eyes, and decides that he is satisfied with the edge of his blade, putting away the necessary supplies. “I should've paid more attention to Ryn when she was trying to tell me about the arts.”
“Since she's such the expert,” Rai remarks sarcastically, thinking of the girl and her complete inability to be of any use.
Unlike Loka, who had been able to control at least four elements, Ryn had only been successful at handling one, and the most congenial, giving deity at that. Minor healing and cantrips were the best she had been able to do. Useful for blisters and paper cuts, but little else. Just like the rest of her so-called abilities.
Sighing, Haiden slides his blade into its sheath and sets the sword down at his side, fixing Rai with a glare. “All right. Get it out. Whatever you want to say about her so I can lay you flat about it later.”
“As if you could.” Rai snorts and opens his eyes, dropping his chin so he can meet Haiden's gaze. “I just don't get it. You've nothing in common. She's a lord's daughter, for Solan's sake, Haiden.”
He shrugs, raking one hand through his hair. “She's a nice person,” Haiden says. “And she really does care about the people.”
“By planning a wedding?” Rai remarks skeptically. He'd be better convinced if Haiden claims affection for Rynneth, but the other man hasn't said anything of the sort. Not once.
Haiden sighs. “It's what I'm supposed to do, isn't it?” he asks wearily. “Save the world. Get the girl. Marry her and--”
“--have lots of little brats running around calling you 'papa'?” Rai finishes for him, his stomach churning at the thought. They are too young for that much domesticity. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” Haiden answers, but amends himself at another look from Rai. “No. Maybe. I don't know. Besides, Ryn was there for me after that fight and--”
“In other words,” Rai interrupts, beginning to see the root of the issue. “She just happened to be there and you don't know how to say no. She's either gotta be the best lay in this kingdom or you're more greedy than I thought.”
He expects to be struck for that one, but Haiden's reaction is surprisingly more sedate.
Kicking out a foot, Haiden slumps against his log and looks every part the petulant child. “You don't understand,” he mutters, now fiddling with the collar of his shirt. Haiden has always been fidgety. “She loves me.”
“Rynneth loves her knight in shining armor,” Rai corrects, remembering the girl's story with much displeasure. “She only thinks she loves you because to her, you're that guy that saved her life. Saved everything. And she wants her trophy. Just like dear old dad.”
Frustration sparks in stormy eyes and a growl rises in Haiden's throat. “Enough,” he demands shortly. “Don't insult her like that. She's a good person.”
“I didn't say that she wasn't,” Rai counters, amused by Haiden's attempt to show his fangs. “I just think that you're staying with her out of some twisted sense of duty. That's a sacrifice I don't think you should have to make.”
When Haiden shoots him a warning glare, Rai holds up his hand in acquiescence. He'll drop the conversation for now. Haiden is stubborn and obviously won't listen anymore. Besides, all the talk about his least favorite female makes Rai’s stomach churn and he'd rather sleep peacefully.
“Fine,” Rai agrees, refusing to apologize. He gestures toward Gaelin. “What do we do about the brat then?”
Haiden watches him for a minute and then follows his gaze. “I could take him back to Weirth. There are a few orphanages there.”
Rai shakes his head. “They're filled up and you know it, Haiden. He'd only be shuffled around and ignored, especially since he's mute.”
For some reason, Rai doesn't like the idea of Gaelin being handed over to strangers and lost in anonymity. Not for everything that the kid has seen and gone through with them. It doesn't seem right. Especially after Loka had specifically asked Rai to look after the brat for her. Besides, circumstances as they are, the orphanages around Umbra are not only packed full but lacking in funding with the struggles of the monarchy.
“He's not mute; he just doesn't like to talk,” Haiden corrects, toying with a random twig. “Ryn might be willing to take him in but...”
“What about Trahern?” Rai suggests, remembering how much of a liking the blacksmith had taken to Gaelin. “You think he'd watch over him?”
Haiden's brow furrows. “It wouldn't hurt to ask, I guess. He doesn't live far from here. A day or two to the south, I'd estimate.”
“It's a plan then. We'll leave in the morning.”
A grunt from Haiden's direction is the only sign of the other man's agreement.
Closing his eyes, Rai pulls his cloak tighter around him and tilts his head back against the bark. He's glad that autumn hasn't completely taken over, otherwise the night would have been colder than his cloak could handle. The fire helps, spreading warmth through his exhausted body. His shoulder still aches, but that has faded to a dull throb.
He hears Haiden settling in as well and briefly wonders if they should bother setting up a watch. Rai hasn't spotted a Ruhin in this area in the past twelve hours, and doubts they would linger anywhere around a recent outpouring of magick. Surrounded by the thickness of the trees, Rai thinks they might be safe. In any case, he doesn't plan on sleeping deeply. Surviving on his own for this long has taught Rai that he can trust his instincts.
It is they which he relies on as he falls into sleep, lulled by the warmth of the crackling flame and the familiarity of the two bodies with him. But familiarity does not mean security and the things that attack Rai in the vulnerability of his sleep cannot be defended against.
He remembers pain, harsh and burning down his back. The wound is deep but not debilitating. It bleeds, but it won't kill him. It is already sealing over, scabbing and crusting. But it isn't being cleaned. Rai wouldn't be surprised if the slice became infected.
He remembers a sword, jagged and carrying the taint of rust. And Rai had acted without thinking. Diving, ducking, stepping between Haiden and certain death. Haiden, who faces his opponents with a recently shattered sword and nothing but his bare fists.
Rai had seen the blade, saw its threat. He moved without thinking. And then... pain. Bleeding. Horrible pain. And fire. Someone runs but Rai himself can't move, the agony is too great. Something slams into his forehead, prompting a burst of stars behind his eyes.
The others run and Rai remains, crumpling to the ground as pain explodes through his skull and darkness invades. He had thought it to be death, and now, he wishes it had been.
The beasts are laughing. The creatures that so resemble humans if not for their oddities. And they converse in a language that no human can make sense of. Discussion. Arguing perhaps.
Something keeps Rai from seeing.. A blindfold? Or perhaps the room is purposefully kept dark. Rai remembers falling asleep to darkness, and now he wakes to darkness. He wonders if he will ever remember what it means to see again.
He is cold and his wrists ache. It feels like rope woven from wire has been wrapped around them. There’s a dull clank, as though he’s been tethered by chains.
Rai feels blood dripping from every tear in his skin. He shivers, missing his cloak. Somewhere beyond his sight, water drips down in a steady cadence, underlaid by musing voices.
Plip. Plip.
Chains and shackles; Rai must be a captive. Why haven’t they killed him like all their other victims? Why has he been allowed to live? What use would the Ruhin have for a human?
And the others? Did they make it? Rai can see now that stumbling into that town had been the worst mistake. Trusting Suerte that there were still those to be saved had been another error. Thinking that they are all heroes is the most foolish thing they had ever believed.
The voices move closer, as does the laughter, shrill and mocking. Or perhaps that is the fear talking. Rai can feel it building inside of him, no matter how much he tries to pin it down. His heart hammers in his chest, and he is so nauseated that he can scarcely breathe.
There is a crunch, a footstep over stone and dirt. And then a finger traces down the side of Rai's face, catching on the cloth over his eyes but not pulling it off. The claw scratches at his flesh but doesn't break the surface. Discomfiting, but not painful. Rai fears moving, lest something a bit more marking occur.
“So fragile,” a voice comments above him, and though the accent is thick, Rai recognizes the common tongue. The Ruhin have been learning their language.
Rai jerks away from the touch, despite his earlier reservations. “What do you want?” he demands, hating his vulnerability. Without his sight, he can only rely on his other senses and they aren't cooperating.
A slow chuckle slides through the space between Rai and the Ruhin. It is followed by a flutter, like wing sliding on wing. And a brush of air against Rai's cheek. He doesn't know how to interpret the sensation, and his confusion makes everything that much more unsettling.
“Play, yes?” The question is stilted and hard to comprehend. “You humans. You... fragile creatures.”
Rai swallows thickly, not liking the sound of the word “play”. Fingers trail through his hair, catching on the band that keeps the longer strands tied back, and snapping it easily. Claws scrape against his scalp before a good handful of hair is gripped and tugged, forcing his head back. One claw touches to his bare throat, taunting him with its sharpness, and a single prick draws a bead of blood.
The cold fear that grips his heart is debilitating. Rai freezes in place, every muscle locking and refusing to move. Sweat breaks out over his body and it takes every effort not to whimper. He doesn't want to show his fear.
Another footstep, another echoing breath, and another Ruhin is around Rai somewhere. A palm presses to his back, right over his wound, and it hurts. Just as badly as the initial cause of the injury. Rai hisses, sucking in a breath that feels like fire.
“Bastards,” he grits through his teeth, and swallows, feeling the claw rise against his throat, moving with the motion of his swallow. The invective is probably lost on the Ruhin.
How long will he last before they kill him? What will he have to suffer? Rai wonders these things as the first blow falls, like a burning whip across his side. And he learns, sooner rather than later, that it's better not to count the rest.
With a start, Rai jerks out of his sleep, his eyes popping open. There's a hand squeezing his shoulder, and a stormy gaze looks at him with concern.
“Rai?” Haiden crouches in front of him.
To his horror, S'raiya can feel himself shaking from the dream, body trying to run from a recurrence of the reality behind that dream. Its echoes reverberate through him, and his mind's eye helpfully recalls the details of something he has been trying – with little success – to forget.
He shakes his head, subtly shying away from Haiden's touch. “I'm awake,” Rai says gruffly, pulling his cloak from around his body. His breath puffs a white mist in the cool, early morning air. “No need to shake me.”
Haiden releases his shoulder, but continues to watch him with that damn knowing expression. “You were having a nightmare.”
“No shit,” Rai snaps, feeling more surly than usual. He doesn't like having his weakness thrown back into his face.
Bracing himself against the tree behind him, Rai shoves himself to his feet and stretches, body protesting the movement. His shoulder gives a twinge, but doesn't complain too much. He catches sight of Gaelin sitting in front of the fire and sipping at a steaming bowl of something, gruel perhaps.
Haiden hasn't stopped watching Rai, but apparently, he decides not to ask any questions because he doesn't say anything more about the nightmares. “I made breakfast,” Haiden offers, flopping down beside Gaelin.
“If it's what I think it is, then no thanks,” Rai says, nose wrinkling at the thought of eating the boiled and congealed mass of oats that always sits in his belly like a bundle of rocks.
His friend shakes his head at him, knowing all too well his dislike for gruel, and for a second, everything feels blessedly normal. The fleeting peace is enough to vanquish any lingering shivers. Rai moves closer to the fire, still feeling a bit cold on the inside. He wants the warmth to chase away the remnants of his memory turned nightmare.
Rai is glad, for the moment, that there is something similar to a quest to keep him occupied. Otherwise he would be thinking right now, and the last thing Rai wants to do is muse on the things that shorten his nights.
He doesn't want to remember.
* * *
a/n: Seems like more questions are offered than answered, huh? *laughs* Luckily, we still have twelve more chapters to find some answers!
I hope you enjoyed. As always, feedback is appreciated. Feel free to point out grammatical errors; I'm sure I missed some.
On to chapter four!
Title: Aftermath
Genre: Fantasy, Action, Drama, Gen (aka no focus on romance, either het or slash)
Size: approximately 81K words
Warnings: some graphic images, memories of past torture, violence, strong language
Summary: Seven heroes try to pick up the pieces after vanquishing evil and protecting what is most important to them. But nightmares haunt the night, and restless stirrings keep them wandering. The real battle begins as they struggle to remember what it means to have a normal life.
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Chapter Three
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Chapter Three
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Rai whistles, raising a brow at the sight before him.
“My sentiments exactly,” Haiden agrees, pulling his dapple-grey mare to a halt.
Before them, part of a once verdant forest is charred and lifeless, while the other half remains green despite encroaching autumn. A river seems to flow out of nowhere, winding down the slope and disappearing into a small dip in the ground. A pall hangs over the house that stands in the middle of it, the air above it appearing darker than the blue sky can break.
Something is definitely wrong with Loka.
Subtle questioning in Yule revealed that Loka and Gaelin lived on the outskirts. The townsfolk had given both men strange looks for inquiring about the mage, and it quickly became evident that they considered Loka to be crazed. They spoke of strange behavior and the working of magick at odd hours of the night when normal people would be sleeping.
Rai finds himself agreeing with the skittish townsfolk. There is a definite sense of something not-quite-right that has Rai pulling the reins and sliding off Flynt. The atmosphere is utterly silent, not even a cricket or a bird chirping. It's as if the wind itself has stopped, since not a one of the remaining leaves rustle.
Rai loops the reins around the saddle horn and unbuckles his sword from the saddle. The feeling of threat hasn't faded, and he feels as though he's being watched closely, by dozens of inhuman eyes. It's not unlike the awareness right before an ambush.
Rai isn't comforted until his sword is a welcome weight across his back. Though he has the feeling that the enemy here is neither physical nor visible. He looks at Loka's house which, though bathed in shadows in the middle of the afternoon, appears immaculate. The vines are trimmed, the siding is clean, and there is a string of laundry drying off to the side. White sheets hang listless and still.
“I don't like this,” Rai voices aloud, and winces when his words echo too vibrantly.
Haiden shakes his head and drops down from Kender. “We're already here,” he says, as though that means it is too late for them to back out now.
Rai would like to argue otherwise. Instead, he follows Haiden who heads straight for the single-story structure, picking his way across the grassy ground. Bits and pieces of rock are scattered across the grass, looking as if some boulder had shattered, leaving only its innards behind.
The closer they draw to the house, the more Rai's apprehension grows, and he has always been one to rely on his instincts. Rai can feel the dread settling in his chest, squeezing his lungs.
The dying hydrangeas to Rai's right suddenly rustle, a sound too loud for the unnatural silence and Rai whirls toward the offensive leaves. His sword is in his hand before he thinks about it, the sound of metal sliding from sheath banishing the quiet as Haiden matches Rai's reaction.
Through a breath of silence Rai's senses strain to detect anything. Expecting a Ruhin to leap from the hydrangeas, Rai is stupefied when a small, brown-haired blur careens out of the bush and heads straight for him. Dirt-stained fingers grasp at Rai's tunic as a very familiar face buries itself into the dark folds of his shirt.
Rai blinks, dropping his guard and lowering his blade. “Gaelin?” he guesses, looking down at the child attached to his front. “Is that you?”
Brown eyes glistening with tears tilt up toward Rai, and the boy nods. Beneath the dirt streaked over his face, Rai is sure that Gaelin is somewhere. Though it will take a good scrubbing with hot water and soap to really tell.
Rai exchanges a quick glance with Haiden as the grip on his tunic tightens, Gaelin tugging to get his attention. He takes a closer look at the boy and curses under his breath. One cheek has the shadow of a bruise, the eye above the bruise swelling. Some of Gaelin's clothes appear singed.
“Why were you in the woods?” Rai demands, looking past the boy to the forest. Had he been attacked by some beast?
Gaelin shakes his head, and it's not really an answer. Not that Gaelin can verbally give him one anyway since the child has been mute since Loka found him. Not by birth, but by choice, according to the mage.
Gaelin trembles as he clings to Rai. And though he is not comfortable with it, Rai can't find it in him to push Gaelin away either. Terror reflects in the boy's dark eyes and Rai is not so much an ogre that he can deny Gaelin a small measure of comfort.
Kneeling beside Gaelin, Haiden attempts to gather his attention. “Where's Loka?” he questions gently, fingers carefully inspecting the boy's injuries. They are not too serious, mostly scrapes and bruises. “Do you know, Gaelin?”
Gaelin looks over his own shoulder at the house. It is as much answer as the two men will receive.
Loathe to leave the child by himself, Rai allows Gaelin to stay attached to his side. Though it is obvious that the boy is reluctant, hiding further behind Rai with every step they take toward the silent house.
The front door is open, swaying back and forth with an ominous creak, and Haiden is the first to enter, his sense of responsibility driving him more than anything else. Rai lets him lead, not at all eager to be the first to enter the proverbial lion's den. Inside, the house is silent and deathly still, swathed in darkness as all the curtains have been drawn tightly over the windows. A single, dim lantern hangs from a hook in the wall to the right, and casts uneasy shadows throughout the main room.
It is there that they find Loka. She is sitting at the table on the opposite side of the lamp where the shadows obscure her face. Her motionless form sends a chill up Rai’s spine and the air smells faintly of smoke and fire, but he can't see any traces of either.
Haiden licks his lips anxiously. “Loka?” One booted boot makes a muffled thump as Haiden comes to a halt.
The mage stirs, and turns toward them slowly. One hand lies placidly across the table, and as Haiden approaches, Loka curls her fingers, her nails scratching across the polished surface. It is an eerie sound that makes Rai's skin crawl.
“Haiden,” Loka acknowledges, her voice hoarse and soft as a whisper. “You came.”
The chair slides back with a defining screech of wood on wood and Loka rises to her feet, turning toward them with a single, lurching step. “I had hoped you would.”
Loka stops, half-in and half-out of the light provided by the meager torch. Her upper body and face are still bathed in shadows, but Rai can see her hands dangling at her sides. Every finger twitches, as though missing the grip of something. And he is suddenly glad that there is only one lamp.
“Oh yes, indeed, I had hoped,” the mage repeats strangely, and abruptly giggles, an eerie, girlish sound that doesn't fit her character in the slightest.
Behind Rai, Gaelin makes a noise halfway between a squeak and a gurgle. He is peering around Rai's bulk with only one eye, as though seeing with both would make it that much more frightening. The sense of unease seems to fill the room until Rai feels like he's choking on it.
He's very, very ready to get the hell out.
Bravely, Haiden watches her. “Your letter was vague,” he says. “What's going on, Loka?”
She chuckles and one hand lifts to pat down the front of her clothes, fingers obsessively running over the knot in her over robe. “I didn't know it would come to this,” she says, and her voice sounds repentant. Until it suddenly switches timbre, as if she is of two minds. “I was so, so arrogant. And I had great reason to be.”
Loka lurches another step forward, into the light, revealing the lines of her face and the burning green of her eyes. Something flickers across her face, like sparks of blue lightning, and her eyes are glassy, as though she were on some strong opiate. Her normally flawless hair lies around her skeletal face like greasy strings and her tan complexion is streaked pale and dull, like a corpse come to life.
Loka has always been thin. Rai remembers her being tall and willowy, not like the voluptuous women he preferred, but attractive in her own right. Elegant and graceful, a dancer if not for her love of magick. But this... this creature standing before Rai is not thin, but literal flesh and bones, as though her leathery skin had been pulled tight across her skeleton. As though something has come along and sucked the very life out of her.
Gaelin's fingers tighten around Rai's clothes and they tug, as if trying to pull him toward the doorway. He makes that sound again, like a frightened rabbit, and Rai realizes that Gaelin’s fear is of Loka herself, and not of some creature in the woods. Gaelin had been hiding from his caretaker.
“What have you been doing to Gaelin?” Rai demands, eyes narrowing. “What the hell is going on, Loka!”
He ignores the warning Haiden’s eyes shoots his direction. Loka is acting strange and it would probably be best not to antagonize her. But damn it, Rai wants some answers.
Rai's hand falls to Gaelin's head, comforting the boy with the weight of his touch. His father had done the same for him at his mother's funeral and he could still remember how much it had consoled him.
The mage cocks her head to the side, tongue sliding out of her mouth to lick across her lips in a vaguely serpentine motion. “The fifth,” she responds with a happy lilt, one hand gesturing toward the ceiling with a sharp motion. Her strangely immaculate sleeve slides down, revealing a bony wrist, marred by reddened lines that still look to be bleeding. “That was my folly. But I needed her to break the seal, you see. I needed, needed, needed.”
Her next step crackles and there is the distinct smell of burning wood, acrid and sharp. Rai glances down to see the flooring beneath Loka’s bare feet begin to blacken and curl away from her. The house gives a great shudder around them and more of the blue lightning arcs across Loka's face, making her appearance ethereal.
Haiden swallows thickly, exchanging a quick glance with Rai. There is clearly something magickal that is the cause of it all, and neither of them have any knowledge of the arts. They are out of their element, with a child to protect, a friend to save, and no idea what to do.
“We came to help you,” Haiden says quietly, but Rai notices that his hand drops to his sword, fingers lingering near the hilt. Haiden has taken more than one step backward; apparently even his courage has limits.
Loka chuckles again, her eyes flashing iridescent, like the flash of a beetle's shell in the sun. “There's no helping me now, Haiden. It's far too late.”
Beneath them, the floor rattles ominously and Rai swears that the earth is shifting. The ground rolling and swaying with every surge of power that he can feel licking at his skin. He can practically taste the magick in the air. He is starting to think that Loka is right and wonders if it might be too late to help her.
Loka moves and stumbles, her hand smacking out flat against the wall to catch her balance. Where her palm touches the wood, it instantly scorches, sending up a thin stream of grey. And when she regains her balance and removes her hand, a perfect print remains, still smoldering.
Loka's forward gait is lumbering and uncoordinated as though she doesn't have any control over her body. Her eyes are bloodshot to match the drugged glaze. She looks like a woman on the edge of her sanity, or perhaps she has already teetered over.
The two men retreat in tandem, and Gaelin ducks behind Rai, fingers grasping the back of Rai's tunic. Rai finds himself standing a little straighter, using the bulk of his body to hide the boy from the mage's view. Loka doesn't appear to be paying much attention to the kid though. Her poison-green gaze is locked on Haiden, and behind the blankness, there is a quiver of recognition.
“I just... I need you to do me this one favor,” Loka says, sounding for once like herself. There is a spark of clarity in her voice. “I've been holding it in until you but... I can't... not anymore. And just... Gaelin.”
It is stuttered and barely comprehensible, but Haiden seems to get the gist of it. “You can't fight it?” he asks quietly.
She shakes her head and one hand rises to clutch at her skull, nearly tearing out lengths of long blond hair. Blood dribbles out of her nose and Loka angrily swipes it away. “I tried. Solan knows I tried but I guess I wasn't strong enough after all.” A bitter laugh escapes her lips. “They've come to claim their due.”
It doesn't make any sense. None of this does. Rai wants to say as much, but he's driven to a stunned sort of silence. Much like Haiden. He wants to back away slowly, find the door, and never look back. But then sharp green eyes seem to find him, despite the madness, and Loka grins crookedly.
“Rai...” she murmurs, her voice cracking. “Take care of him for me, please. Rai. I know he likes you. Rai. Please. Rai.”
She is repeating herself. And her voice, once a melodious, throaty timbre, is varying in pitch. As though there are more than one personality within her, and every one of them are trying to speak their whims.
Rai feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up as something crackles through the air. A strong smell of sulphur, like the air before a violent summer storm. Like one of her favorite magick attacks, streaks of lightning that burn through her opponents in a wicked burst of jagged gold.
Loka shudders and she clutches at her abdomen as though trying to hold herself together. “My dear Gaelin,” Loka murmurs and looks at him, the child she raised as her own. The boy she surely loves as much as her own flesh and blood. “Sweet Gaelin, forgive me. I just... I just wanted...”
Loka's eyes brim with tears and she sags toward the floor, fingers gripping so tightly that they are white-knuckled. “I'm so, so sorry. So sorry.” Fire licks around her feet, hungrily spreading across the floor as they back toward the door, though Haiden lingers.
Always the bloody hero, Haiden is. He thinks he can help, always believing that there is more he is capable of doing, anything to save just one more life.
Loka glares at them, all the life gone from her eyes, her face pale and bloodless. Lips a thin smear in her expression. Something flickers behind the mask of her face, stretched taut against the angularity of her bones. As though something is trying to break free, and succeeding more and more with each passing moment.
“Run. By Solan, run.” The last is very nearly a scream, torn from the depths of her body and screeching past her lips in obvious command.
They don't need to be told twice.
Feeling a fear unlike anything he has ever experienced, Rai scoops Gaelin up into his arms and throws himself out the door, Haiden a step behind them. Loka's scream, like a thousand voices crying out in agony, follows in their wake. It rattles in their eardrums, until Rai feels like his brain is bleeding out his ears.
Rai manages only two steps from the house before it explodes, flame and lightning and wind blasting in all directions. Rai dives, hitting the earth with one shoulder as he puts himself between the house and Gaelin, who is shaking, tear-ridden. Somewhere beside him is a muffled thump as Haiden hits the dirt, cursing, as grief-stricken as Gaelin. Rai is ashamed of himself for his terror.
Debris batters their bodies, and the wind shrieks, viciously twisting as though finally freed from a prison. A piece of the rubble strikes Rai's weak shoulder and he curses fluently as pain rips through him. Groaning, he presses himself more firmly against the ground, curling his body around Gaelin's. There is nothing to do but ride out the storm, the magick ferociously attacking their bodies as though given physical form.
A terrible shriek rises up from the home behind them and Rai peers over his shoulder, eyes slitted against the lashing wind. The voice is Loka's, but it is mixed with others. And on the edge of the scream, something laughs maniacally. Rai is pressed to call it Loka.
The flames rise higher and higher, and he thinks he might see a body standing in the midst of it. But in the next instance, the vague outline is gone and the horrible sound abruptly ends, the silence broken by only by the crackling flame.
Gaelin struggles beneath Rai, scrambling free and making a dash for the building, where the fire seems to be shrinking, pulling into itself. The earth rumbles ominously, giving a groan of dismay. A warning shudders down Rai's spine and he acts without thinking, throwing his body forward and wrapping his arms around Gaelin.
“No,” he growls, pulling the boy away from the house. Gaelin fights it, twisting and squirming in his hold like a fish out of water.
Rai manages to scoot a few steps backward, pulling Gaelin with him, before the ground beneath the house gives a great heave. A boulder shoots upward, spilling rock and vegetation everywhere. Its massive form reaches for the sky and then abruptly topples over, completely crushing the remains of Loka's house.
Rai can only watch as the earth continues to rumble, groaning and shifting as it steadily buries the home beneath tons of soil. When the dust clears and the land stills, there is nothing left of Loka's house but the laundry line, one half still connected to the massive trunk of a nearby oak. It seems utterly peaceful, except that the unnatural quiet makes the entire area feel like a graveyard.
Gaelin rips free from Rai's hold and Rai lets him loose, hoping that the danger has passed. The boy stumbles with unsteady legs toward the flat ground where the house had once sat.
Haiden and Rai slowly pick themselves up from the ground, brushing pieces of broken wood from their clothing. Blood drips from a cut in Haiden's forehead, and Rai's shoulder aches painfully, but there don’t appear to be any serious injuries.
Rai watches as Gaelin drops to his knees, his bare hands palming the smooth earth. Tears well up in large, brown eyes. Rai and Haiden can only watch helplessly as Gaelin sobs, fingers scraping at the dirt. His shoulders shake as his head bows, lost to his grief. Loka was the only mother he knew, and now she’s gone.
All that remains is the echo of her presence and her magick, the scent of ash on the air, and the final resonating strains of her last scream.
Rai pulls his blanket up over Gaelin's sleeping form, the boy finally dropping away out of exhaustion just a few minutes prior. His face is still streaked with dirt and ash, but he fought off attempts to be cleaned, even by Rai. So the two men had left him, tear tracks even more apparent through the grime.
Sighing, Rai shifts back against a tree trunk and stares across the campfire. Haiden leans against a log, dragged to their location for that purpose, honing his blade. The soft scrape of the pumice over the metal accompanies the crackling of the fire.
“He's finally asleep?” Haiden asks, focused on his blade as the stone skillfully passes over it.
Rai nods, pulling one knee toward his body and resting his arm atop it. He tilts his head back, watching the smoke lazily seek the sky through the overhanging branches of the oak. He can barely see the stars just beyond, faint glimmers of light. Loka's laundry line still hangs somewhere on the other side, white sheets far from clean.
“He's pretty exhausted,” Rai says, and rubs at his shoulder. It throbs where the debris smacked him, and he wishes he had a leaf of salica to chew on. Anything to dull the ache.
Haiden's gaze flickers to him and then back to his sword. “The arm still bothering you?”
“Always.” Rai falls silent and closes his eyes, feeling exhaustion attacking him.
They'd been absolutely helpless, unable to aid Loka. And even though he wasn't amenable to the idea at the start, it bothers Rai that they couldn't do anything for her. Nothing more than make a marker for the flat piece of earth that served as her final resting place. And now, they have Gaelin on their hands, and no idea what to do with him.
“Rai, what do you know about magick?” Haiden asks after a moment, tilting his blade to check the edge in the light of the fire.
Rai shrugs, his stomach grumbling but feeling too tired to do anything about it. “About as much as you. Jack shit.”
Which isn't exactly true. Rai knows as much as the common man. Magick requires both natural talent and hard work. One can't learn the spells without the blessing of the spirit who owns the associated element and there are six spirits for the six reigning natural elements. However, how all that relates to Loka and what happened, Rai isn’t sure as that is the extent of his knowledge.
“Thought so.” Haiden pauses, as though thinking of something. “Remember when Loka left the group for a while?”
“Yeah. She said it was because she was pissed at Suerte for lying to us, but I think she was fibbing herself. Why?”
The wind shifts, sending a flurry of smoke Haiden's direction before returning to its original course. The brief burst of grey momentarily obscures his face. “Loka said something once. That she was strong because of the four spirits. But earlier, she mentioned five. Maybe that has something to do with it... whatever it was.”
“And maybe she couldn't remember because she was out of her mind,” Rai retorts, remembering the eerie grin that the mage had been sporting. “Only another mage could answer that.”
Haiden rolls his eyes, and decides that he is satisfied with the edge of his blade, putting away the necessary supplies. “I should've paid more attention to Ryn when she was trying to tell me about the arts.”
“Since she's such the expert,” Rai remarks sarcastically, thinking of the girl and her complete inability to be of any use.
Unlike Loka, who had been able to control at least four elements, Ryn had only been successful at handling one, and the most congenial, giving deity at that. Minor healing and cantrips were the best she had been able to do. Useful for blisters and paper cuts, but little else. Just like the rest of her so-called abilities.
Sighing, Haiden slides his blade into its sheath and sets the sword down at his side, fixing Rai with a glare. “All right. Get it out. Whatever you want to say about her so I can lay you flat about it later.”
“As if you could.” Rai snorts and opens his eyes, dropping his chin so he can meet Haiden's gaze. “I just don't get it. You've nothing in common. She's a lord's daughter, for Solan's sake, Haiden.”
He shrugs, raking one hand through his hair. “She's a nice person,” Haiden says. “And she really does care about the people.”
“By planning a wedding?” Rai remarks skeptically. He'd be better convinced if Haiden claims affection for Rynneth, but the other man hasn't said anything of the sort. Not once.
Haiden sighs. “It's what I'm supposed to do, isn't it?” he asks wearily. “Save the world. Get the girl. Marry her and--”
“--have lots of little brats running around calling you 'papa'?” Rai finishes for him, his stomach churning at the thought. They are too young for that much domesticity. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” Haiden answers, but amends himself at another look from Rai. “No. Maybe. I don't know. Besides, Ryn was there for me after that fight and--”
“In other words,” Rai interrupts, beginning to see the root of the issue. “She just happened to be there and you don't know how to say no. She's either gotta be the best lay in this kingdom or you're more greedy than I thought.”
He expects to be struck for that one, but Haiden's reaction is surprisingly more sedate.
Kicking out a foot, Haiden slumps against his log and looks every part the petulant child. “You don't understand,” he mutters, now fiddling with the collar of his shirt. Haiden has always been fidgety. “She loves me.”
“Rynneth loves her knight in shining armor,” Rai corrects, remembering the girl's story with much displeasure. “She only thinks she loves you because to her, you're that guy that saved her life. Saved everything. And she wants her trophy. Just like dear old dad.”
Frustration sparks in stormy eyes and a growl rises in Haiden's throat. “Enough,” he demands shortly. “Don't insult her like that. She's a good person.”
“I didn't say that she wasn't,” Rai counters, amused by Haiden's attempt to show his fangs. “I just think that you're staying with her out of some twisted sense of duty. That's a sacrifice I don't think you should have to make.”
When Haiden shoots him a warning glare, Rai holds up his hand in acquiescence. He'll drop the conversation for now. Haiden is stubborn and obviously won't listen anymore. Besides, all the talk about his least favorite female makes Rai’s stomach churn and he'd rather sleep peacefully.
“Fine,” Rai agrees, refusing to apologize. He gestures toward Gaelin. “What do we do about the brat then?”
Haiden watches him for a minute and then follows his gaze. “I could take him back to Weirth. There are a few orphanages there.”
Rai shakes his head. “They're filled up and you know it, Haiden. He'd only be shuffled around and ignored, especially since he's mute.”
For some reason, Rai doesn't like the idea of Gaelin being handed over to strangers and lost in anonymity. Not for everything that the kid has seen and gone through with them. It doesn't seem right. Especially after Loka had specifically asked Rai to look after the brat for her. Besides, circumstances as they are, the orphanages around Umbra are not only packed full but lacking in funding with the struggles of the monarchy.
“He's not mute; he just doesn't like to talk,” Haiden corrects, toying with a random twig. “Ryn might be willing to take him in but...”
“What about Trahern?” Rai suggests, remembering how much of a liking the blacksmith had taken to Gaelin. “You think he'd watch over him?”
Haiden's brow furrows. “It wouldn't hurt to ask, I guess. He doesn't live far from here. A day or two to the south, I'd estimate.”
“It's a plan then. We'll leave in the morning.”
A grunt from Haiden's direction is the only sign of the other man's agreement.
Closing his eyes, Rai pulls his cloak tighter around him and tilts his head back against the bark. He's glad that autumn hasn't completely taken over, otherwise the night would have been colder than his cloak could handle. The fire helps, spreading warmth through his exhausted body. His shoulder still aches, but that has faded to a dull throb.
He hears Haiden settling in as well and briefly wonders if they should bother setting up a watch. Rai hasn't spotted a Ruhin in this area in the past twelve hours, and doubts they would linger anywhere around a recent outpouring of magick. Surrounded by the thickness of the trees, Rai thinks they might be safe. In any case, he doesn't plan on sleeping deeply. Surviving on his own for this long has taught Rai that he can trust his instincts.
It is they which he relies on as he falls into sleep, lulled by the warmth of the crackling flame and the familiarity of the two bodies with him. But familiarity does not mean security and the things that attack Rai in the vulnerability of his sleep cannot be defended against.
He remembers pain, harsh and burning down his back. The wound is deep but not debilitating. It bleeds, but it won't kill him. It is already sealing over, scabbing and crusting. But it isn't being cleaned. Rai wouldn't be surprised if the slice became infected.
He remembers a sword, jagged and carrying the taint of rust. And Rai had acted without thinking. Diving, ducking, stepping between Haiden and certain death. Haiden, who faces his opponents with a recently shattered sword and nothing but his bare fists.
Rai had seen the blade, saw its threat. He moved without thinking. And then... pain. Bleeding. Horrible pain. And fire. Someone runs but Rai himself can't move, the agony is too great. Something slams into his forehead, prompting a burst of stars behind his eyes.
The others run and Rai remains, crumpling to the ground as pain explodes through his skull and darkness invades. He had thought it to be death, and now, he wishes it had been.
The beasts are laughing. The creatures that so resemble humans if not for their oddities. And they converse in a language that no human can make sense of. Discussion. Arguing perhaps.
Something keeps Rai from seeing.. A blindfold? Or perhaps the room is purposefully kept dark. Rai remembers falling asleep to darkness, and now he wakes to darkness. He wonders if he will ever remember what it means to see again.
He is cold and his wrists ache. It feels like rope woven from wire has been wrapped around them. There’s a dull clank, as though he’s been tethered by chains.
Rai feels blood dripping from every tear in his skin. He shivers, missing his cloak. Somewhere beyond his sight, water drips down in a steady cadence, underlaid by musing voices.
Plip. Plip.
Chains and shackles; Rai must be a captive. Why haven’t they killed him like all their other victims? Why has he been allowed to live? What use would the Ruhin have for a human?
And the others? Did they make it? Rai can see now that stumbling into that town had been the worst mistake. Trusting Suerte that there were still those to be saved had been another error. Thinking that they are all heroes is the most foolish thing they had ever believed.
The voices move closer, as does the laughter, shrill and mocking. Or perhaps that is the fear talking. Rai can feel it building inside of him, no matter how much he tries to pin it down. His heart hammers in his chest, and he is so nauseated that he can scarcely breathe.
There is a crunch, a footstep over stone and dirt. And then a finger traces down the side of Rai's face, catching on the cloth over his eyes but not pulling it off. The claw scratches at his flesh but doesn't break the surface. Discomfiting, but not painful. Rai fears moving, lest something a bit more marking occur.
“So fragile,” a voice comments above him, and though the accent is thick, Rai recognizes the common tongue. The Ruhin have been learning their language.
Rai jerks away from the touch, despite his earlier reservations. “What do you want?” he demands, hating his vulnerability. Without his sight, he can only rely on his other senses and they aren't cooperating.
A slow chuckle slides through the space between Rai and the Ruhin. It is followed by a flutter, like wing sliding on wing. And a brush of air against Rai's cheek. He doesn't know how to interpret the sensation, and his confusion makes everything that much more unsettling.
“Play, yes?” The question is stilted and hard to comprehend. “You humans. You... fragile creatures.”
Rai swallows thickly, not liking the sound of the word “play”. Fingers trail through his hair, catching on the band that keeps the longer strands tied back, and snapping it easily. Claws scrape against his scalp before a good handful of hair is gripped and tugged, forcing his head back. One claw touches to his bare throat, taunting him with its sharpness, and a single prick draws a bead of blood.
The cold fear that grips his heart is debilitating. Rai freezes in place, every muscle locking and refusing to move. Sweat breaks out over his body and it takes every effort not to whimper. He doesn't want to show his fear.
Another footstep, another echoing breath, and another Ruhin is around Rai somewhere. A palm presses to his back, right over his wound, and it hurts. Just as badly as the initial cause of the injury. Rai hisses, sucking in a breath that feels like fire.
“Bastards,” he grits through his teeth, and swallows, feeling the claw rise against his throat, moving with the motion of his swallow. The invective is probably lost on the Ruhin.
How long will he last before they kill him? What will he have to suffer? Rai wonders these things as the first blow falls, like a burning whip across his side. And he learns, sooner rather than later, that it's better not to count the rest.
With a start, Rai jerks out of his sleep, his eyes popping open. There's a hand squeezing his shoulder, and a stormy gaze looks at him with concern.
“Rai?” Haiden crouches in front of him.
To his horror, S'raiya can feel himself shaking from the dream, body trying to run from a recurrence of the reality behind that dream. Its echoes reverberate through him, and his mind's eye helpfully recalls the details of something he has been trying – with little success – to forget.
He shakes his head, subtly shying away from Haiden's touch. “I'm awake,” Rai says gruffly, pulling his cloak from around his body. His breath puffs a white mist in the cool, early morning air. “No need to shake me.”
Haiden releases his shoulder, but continues to watch him with that damn knowing expression. “You were having a nightmare.”
“No shit,” Rai snaps, feeling more surly than usual. He doesn't like having his weakness thrown back into his face.
Bracing himself against the tree behind him, Rai shoves himself to his feet and stretches, body protesting the movement. His shoulder gives a twinge, but doesn't complain too much. He catches sight of Gaelin sitting in front of the fire and sipping at a steaming bowl of something, gruel perhaps.
Haiden hasn't stopped watching Rai, but apparently, he decides not to ask any questions because he doesn't say anything more about the nightmares. “I made breakfast,” Haiden offers, flopping down beside Gaelin.
“If it's what I think it is, then no thanks,” Rai says, nose wrinkling at the thought of eating the boiled and congealed mass of oats that always sits in his belly like a bundle of rocks.
His friend shakes his head at him, knowing all too well his dislike for gruel, and for a second, everything feels blessedly normal. The fleeting peace is enough to vanquish any lingering shivers. Rai moves closer to the fire, still feeling a bit cold on the inside. He wants the warmth to chase away the remnants of his memory turned nightmare.
Rai is glad, for the moment, that there is something similar to a quest to keep him occupied. Otherwise he would be thinking right now, and the last thing Rai wants to do is muse on the things that shorten his nights.
He doesn't want to remember.
a/n: Seems like more questions are offered than answered, huh? *laughs* Luckily, we still have twelve more chapters to find some answers!
I hope you enjoyed. As always, feedback is appreciated. Feel free to point out grammatical errors; I'm sure I missed some.
On to chapter four!
