Blacker than night, thicker than water, deeper than the ocean he fell, slipping away from this world into the abyss. He had no control, the darkness ebbing, crawling, gripping into his mind. Through the pain and shouting, the world became very distant, and the fires that burned made him choke- and as he tried to call out, the blackness struck over his vision-
And time for him stopped.
But the world went on, he went on, and whatever chaos had happened... it seemed he had been taken away from anything and everyone he was becoming familiar with. And it wasn't until days later did he awaken, ruby red eyes going wide as he lay in a crumpled heap in the dark. But this sort of dark was different, and as he looked around, hearing the night owls calls and the clattering of skeletal branches against the star spangled sky, he realized he was alone- so utterly alone, and it was then that the cold had sunk in, and he felt the dampness of the world around him cling to his body, like sweat.
As he sat up, he grew dizzy and clutched onto his head, and it was only then- against a slight sliver of moon light, that he noticed the wraps on his arms had tore away-
and every bit of his skin was revealed. And that skin- which had once been a rich brown, had turned darker than midnight black.
Gasping, he began to fell over his body- up his arm and down it- but there was almost no feeling at all, and in his other hand- the one not yet affected by the darkened curse that crept over him, he could feel his skin texture had also changed. It was leathery, tough- and as he went to move his arm, it hurt, as if the veins were being constricted, or strangled.
And it was only then, did he realize that other things that hadn't hurt before were beginning to suffer the same beginnings of that dull ache and pain that now consumed his blackened limb. And this time, he felt it on his throat. And when he lifted a shaking hand to touch it, he gasped out a trembling breath, feeling a few hot tears roll down his cheeks, as he began to realize how far the curse had spread.
Half of his neck now was covered in it.. and as he padded his skin down on his face...
Now along his chin, some of his cheek and around his eye...
It had gotten so far it was beginning to cover his face.
Blinking, the few tears that hung unshed rolled down his cheeks. And he shivered, curling up against a broken, decaying tree in the dense, nearly swamp like woods he now found himself. And for a moment, he didn't know what to do, as he remained there, and shivered in both cold and fear.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but the creaking of wagon wheels made him perk up. At first, it seemed like a dream- but as he blinked and lifted his head, he realized the sun had just began to rise, and moving just down the hill from him was a wagon.
Attempting to rise, the movement was too much for him, and soon the world was spinning and he, stumbling into a tree, but the second he touched it, he felt a shock rush through him, and the tree- he could have swore- let out a groan. But by the time he had pulled his arm away, the man in the wagon had already dismounted, having been calling out to the Miersck for some time. It appeared as if the boy were in trouble, and if he were startled by the strange pair of wings on his back, the old man made no spectacle of it. What he was concerned about was how the young winged man was screaming in pain-
Mierck had also fallen to his knees, gripping his arm, which now was locking up and unable to be moved. By the time the man got to him, he tried once again asking Miersck what was wrong; did he need help? But Miersck couldn't even lift his head, the pain- being so intense, it brought back tears, and he grit his teeth so hard, he thought they might break.
And he wasnt' sure how it happened, but the man was suddenly screaming, and the same rush, the same sensation as when he touched the tree struck through Miersck, and when a figure fell before him, it was only then did the dizzying world begin to slow for him, as another scream rang out. Miersck looked down at the body before him, that was convulsing. But that was the last thing he'd see before once again, his world went to black.
By the time the woman had brought her husband in to the town on the wagon, he passed away, and soon a crowd was forming around the sobbing, howling woman as they heard her tale. And soon, rumors began to spread about a wicked, winged boy in the forest- who- if he touched you- caused death.
The men of the village were debating starting a hunt, knowing they could not allow such a beast to roam free, but until a solution was figured out- the entire town had a curfew-
To be in doors just before dark- with all of the doors locked.
And no one was allowed to go into the forests. No one.
And no one was allowed to go into the forests. No one.
The young woman's footsteps were tired and slow. She was dressed plainly with a bag slung over her shoulder and a ball of fire in her hands. As she moved down the forest path, the fire illuminated the way for her, casting back eerie shadows like disgruntled ghosts glaring balefully at the light. Once or twice an animal sounded out in the darkness. Every time such noises were heard, she would turn her head in that general direction for a brief moment while continuing on her journey. She hoped it would end soon. Her feet were so tired.
Sacora didn't fancy long walks into the forest like this. This was a bit of a different walk than her usual leisurely strolls--she was returning to Jadenshine from Ravensway and, in her eagerness to reach her home soon, had decided to continue walking until dark. It was with the logic that she might find lodgings soon that she decided to do so. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no such place while she was on the path; another look at her map told her she had somehow gotten lost, for there was supposed to have been a town hours back.
If there was no place soon, she would have to make a camp. That was fine; she'd done it plenty of times before. And with her fire, there was no need to worry about making a camp in the dark. Still, thoughts of a nice bed tempted her to continue--for why else was there a path in this forest, if it wasn't to lead to a town or village?
She now found herself in a dense wood, rather swamp-like in nature, with a hillock some hundred or so feet away from her. It was here she paused, for her feet felt as though they would give away. She quickly unpacked a sleeping bag from her bag and, marking the spot with a small magic stone that glowed, went to collect some wood for a fire. She was picking up a good bundle in her arms and was bending down to collect the last of the wood when a dark form on the ground caught her eye. She stood awhile staring at it before dropping the wood and rushing over to it, for it turned out to to resemble the form of a person.
Lighting her hand with another fireball, she used it to illuminate the unconscious person's features. He was a youth with eerily blackened skin and moth wings on his back. He seemed to be alive...Sacora stood riveted to the spot, entranced by the wings and general strange appearance of the boy. A moment later she realized that something could be wrong with him. Tentatively, she reached out a hand to him, intending to shake him on the shoulder.
"Hello? Can you hear me?" Meanwhile she knelt down and her hand was growing closer and closer...
It was the warmth of the fire that drew him from the dark, the crisp and curdling flame. He never knew why he, and all of his ancestors before him were so drawn to it, but fire was like a drug, and he the addict. So when he heard it, his face twitched a moment, brow furrowing before he released a light groan, and just before her hands had a chance to touch him, those red eyes opened, blinking once, as the dance of the fire reflected across those ruby red eyes.
Sacora drew back a little when she heard the groan and saw him open his eyes. The action had surprised her, stopping her hand midway, and she let it fall back by her side. She looked him over a second time with a cursory glance and watched his eyes, ruby red in color, as they stared at the fire in her hands. Who was he? No, what was he? Sacora had never seen anyone with moth wings before. She had met several bird-winged Yoreiqi in the Meeting Place once, but they didn't have wings of the insect sort. Why had he been passed out on the forest floor like this? He couldn't have been camping out here, not with the lack of a campfire and a tent or sleeping bag nearby. And then, why was his skin blackened so? Was he diseased? In that case, she had better find a doctor. "Ah, you're waking up. Can you hear me? Can you understand? Are you hurt?"
At her voice, he backed away with a jerk, seeming to come to his senses where as a moment before, he had been completely transfixed. But that's how the pull of the fire was with him- so strong, almost tangible, and where it not for his fear and confusion, he'd be drawn to it without a doubt.
"Don't come near me!" he snapped, gripping onto his blackened limb as he took a defensive step back. "Stay away!"
Sacora jolted when the boy jerked away, suddenly more aware and in control of his senses than he had been a moment before. She stared awhile at him, a little taken aback by his violent reaction. Then again, it was probably to be expected--he was alone in the forest with a strange disease. Either he had come here by himself or someone abandoned him here. Her fire may have been another factor, but he didn't seem bothered by it then. One could never know, though.
"Don't come near me! Stay away!"
Sacora bit down on her lower lip in thought and began to answer coaxingly, "It's ok, I won't hurt you. I just found you on the ground...is everything all right?" Chancing one step--just one, small step closer--the young woman held out the fire to illuminate the way and added, "I can find some help for you if you need it. Just tell me what's wrong."
The young man flinched back, but his eyes caught to the flame and he grew quiet, mesmerized by its dance. It was then he grit his teeth and said, "I don't need any help." And he used his hand to feebly hide the mark on his arm.
He flinched at her step and his eyes were locked onto the flame in her hands. But then he grit his teeth and snapped, "I don't need any help." A feeble hand went up to cover the blackened skin on his arm. Sacora's attention was once again drawn to that arm. The black skin that covered it hadn't seemed like a regular bruise when she saw it earlier in the firelight. It did not seem like he was dealing with the rot, either--for it consumed his entire arm, and was colored so very darkly. There were no open flesh wounds, so how could it rot? Sacora guessed it was either something physical yet to be discovered by healers, perhaps something that happened only to his kind, or something magical inflicted upon him.
She could also see that it wouldn't be easy dealing with this moth-winged boy. He was both stubborn and cautious. With a slight sigh of resolution she tried coaxing him again, "Perhaps, but are you hungry? Thirsty? I have food and water back at my camp. I will also be making a fire...it wouldn't do to sleep on the cold ground like that."
((Is Miersck's mark all over his body or is it just on his arm now?
fixed the description))
OOC: Basically his mark started at his hand, by the time this thread starts, it's all the way up one of his arms, consuming it entirely. He also has some of the blackness stretching out like black veins beneath his skin, towards his face, some on his neck and chest/ back around his affected shoulder. It's his left side that's affected. And oh, a minor detail, but if she were to notice, his moth wings are scarred, as they had been injured in the thread before this one :)
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Miersck made another noise and took a quick step back, still remaining hunched and guarded.
"I told you to stay away!" he growled. "I don't need your help!"
((Ah, ok ^_^))
"I told you to stay away! I don't need your help!" He made another step back, retreating farther away from her.
Sacora stared at this boy with a rather pained expression, wishing to help but unable to for he denied it. She tilted her head in thought, but alas came to the point that, well, if he didn't want any help--and reiterated it so vociferously--then she couldn't do anything. It would not do to force the help on him. She straightened up onto her feet, for she had been in something of a half-kneel the entire time, and turned back to her fallen woodpile. "In that case, I won't bother you any longer. I will be nearby, though, if you need me." It tore at her conscience to turn away from him like this, because that arm of his bothered him (at least she believed so, for he kept on clutching at it and his hand movement was weak when he tried to cover it), his wings had scratches and scars, and Sacora could not forget how she had found him: unconscious on the dark forest ground.
When she came back to the wood, she chanced a look back at him and then had an idea. She arranged a little pile of wood where she was into a fire circle and lit it with hearty, blazing flames. He could still move, she surmised, so once she was a little farther away from him back at her own camp, he could come over to this fire any time he wanted. It would definitely be better than sleeping on the cold ground, which had been ardently forewarned by Sacora's foster parents as the surefire death of any camper! With this thought, there was a lighter spring in her step as she took the remaining wood, searched for more, and then returned to her little glowstone mark that marked out her camp.
After she had gone about lighting her own fire, she took some things from her pack and headed back to the first fire, laying them out within range of the fire's light. They were wrapped rations in a cloth, consisting of jerky, fruit, and some cakes, and a waterskin. She had only one more excursion left, and that was to collect more wood to place it near the moth boy's fire, so that he could maintain it throughout the night. When even that was done, she fought the urge to look back towards him and retreated to her sleeping bag. She crawled into it and lay her head down, supposing that if the moth boy didn't feel comfortable around her presence, he might feel more at ease knowing she was asleep and tucked away.
It was cold. He shivered. He was never a fan of the cold. In fact, he was never really a fan of being alone. Though he'd never outwardly admit it. His time with Alycia changed a lot of that- but he was still Miersck, and he was stubborn to a fault.
But he could not ignore his hunger, or the pain, or the emptiness, the confusion, and the thirst for answers. He never liked the consequences of his mark, it never lead to anything good. This time was no exception. And the fact the mark was getting worse, and it's path- growing....
It had him more than on edge and he peered down at it again with a soured look as his white hair fell over his red eyes.
His lips curled back as he growled, and tore his eyes away, kicking angrily at the ground before those eyes wandered over towards the dancing flames. For the longest moment he found himself staring at the flames and yearning to be closer- to touch it, to feel it's warmth. And the idea of being out here all alone in the cold...
He shivered again.
But this was instincts he could not ignore, and he felt his entire being become over whelmed with anxious want. And being cold, hungry and alone....
It lead him to tentatively turn in her direction, to take another step towards her, if even slow. And somehow he was finding himself not to far away. But he kept himself tucked away behind the trees- watching her from afar...
Much as he had once did back in his own home village....
when someone of the flame came by. And he could have cursed himself for it- in fact he did, and did so harshly as he bristled. But he did what he could to cover his arm best as he moved forward, hurriedly, grumpily, before standing before her and the fire without so much as saying a word.
He looked angry, upset- as indicated by the wrinkled creasing on his face. But he barely gave her so much as a glance before he turned to the fire, and just simply watched it danced, and felt some form of relief wash over him when it's warmth touched his skin. And it took every ounce of his being not to reach out and touch it. For as much as he desired the flames without reason, he knew the consequences well-
and he was in no mood to get burned.
At least, somehow, he had his own fire.
Sacora turned her head around and opened her eyes a peep between the lush curtains of her hair to see if the moth boy had accepted the fire she made for him. When she saw him there she blinked sleepily and turned away, feeling a little lighter on her conscience and thus, more relaxed. He seemed so young, and yet as if he had already been through so much. He couldn't have been at least...any older than she was when she lost her foster parents, she estimated; and she was fifteen at the time. Her fatigue soon caught up with her and she was drifting off to a light slumber warmed by her sleeping bag and the faint warmth of the fire on her cheeks. She slept with the upper flap of the bag covering most of her face, leaving only her eyes and what hair that fell over them exposed to the open.
About an hour or so later she stirred awake, interrupted by some dream mechanism that she'd forgotten about upon opening her eyes. She brushed some hair from her face and turned over on her side, seeking out a comfortable position to continue her sleep. When she lay still again, she stared drowsily at the diminishing fire before her, and with a lazy gesture tossed a few nearby sticks into the pile, feeding more flames onto it. Then her eyelids grew heavy and she was being whisked off into dreamland once more.
The moth fae hadn't considered feeding his own fire when he huddled close to it and drifted off to slumber, but when he awoke, cold and shivering, he peered over to where Sacora had just refed her own flames. Her fire dazzled him, and before he knew what he was doing, he moved over towards her camp and crouched near the flames, eyes fixated on the fire's dance.
Sacora had good dreams she supposed, as good a dream as a tired traveler like her could have. Dreaming took all the cares of life away, whether they be funny dreams, serious dreams, or weird dreams that made no sense. It was interesting how one could easily forget all the things that happened in the waking world when one was dreaming, as if they never happened. She forgot that Miersck even existed at all as she was sleeping...until she woke up a little later, as she was accustomed to doing when sleeping in the woods. He was no longer at his fire but hers, staring at the fire intently. Without a word she fed a few more sticks into the flames and tucked herself back into the sleeping bag. "You should probably sleep, it'll be morning soon," she mumbled drowsily.
Miersck went still when she moved. Though when she added more fuel to the fire, he barely flinched as the fire cracked and popped at is began to lap it's flames upon it's new food. With the fire light growing, his eyes continued to remain fixated upon their dance. It was a calming but also anxiety inducing effect, and at this moment, he was too tired to care. Ironic thing about her statement was that his type generally slept all day. However.. his days traveling with Alycia the mermaid had him more or less forced to become less nocturnal. But with his world having been turned upside down, he was more irritable than ever- and also more wary.
It was then he realized the mark on his arm would be noticeable and he turned away suddenly from where she lay, an arm draped over it, clutching it tight. Now his wings would be to her, and it would be more than evident than were anything but pristine. In fact, by the looks of things,it was possible his wings had a sustaining injury. But if it hurt the moth fae, he made no indication there of.
After a few moments of silence, he found himself irritably growling out, "Why'd you have to make a fire?" The tone obviously had 'he blamed her' written all over it, though despite his only vocalization about his unfavorable attitude towards the flames, he remained close by, eyes still locked on it.
OOC: Hope this post makes sense XD I am half asleep writing this and also still sick x.x
((Don't worry, it makes perfect sense ^^
And get well soon!))
When the moth boy saw her move, he froze, although his eyes were still fixed on the fire. He seemed to like gazing at the fire. She wondered why...ah, of course, he was part moth! Sacora felt silly, for that should have been apparent earlier. Those wings of his were moth wings, right? So it was safe to assume he might retain some of the characteristics of the insect, one of them being their love of light. But she was rather sleepy, so it didn't matter much at the moment. As her eyes regarded the flames and the moth boy's form in lowering slits, he suddenly became wary of her seeing something and turned away so that his back was to her.
In the fire's light, his wings were easier to see. And indeed, they were anything but pristine. It only confirmed to her further that he had been through a lot...a lot of what, she didn't presume to know, but it must not have been easy. That coupled with his irritation and suspicion made it even more obvious. He wasn't going away from her fire though, so everything still seemed to be ok. He was just the sort to flinch every time she so much as moved or spoke. That he still stuck around was quite heartening, if one could take it that way.
Her eyes were fully closed again as she drifted off to sleep, there being nothing but silence to encourage her to continue her slumber. A little while later his voice rang out amongst the fog of her fatigue, asking her reproachfully "Why'd you have to make a fire?"
Her eyes fluttered open again and she stared at the crackling flames awhile before answering, "Well...I made one so I could keep warm, and so I could see my way in the dark. It's awfully dark out here in the forest at night. A fire also keeps the predators at bay." After a few moments of sleepy contemplation, she added, "Does it bother you?"
Miersck made a face, his lower lip jutting out and his brow furrowing. Does it bother him?
"Do acorns fall from trees? Of course it does!" he spat, body bristling, especially his wings. He didn't bother to go on to explain, as he sourly kept his back to her still, shifting only slightly as he continued to watch the fire, unmoving.
"Do acorns fall from trees? Of course it does!"
Sacora blinked several times, unable to see the correlation between acorns falling from trees and his obvious displeasure at her fire. She could understand the premise of his statement, that it should be obvious he was not happy with her fire, as obviously as acorns falling from trees. She just didn't get the metaphor, as in, why would he use an acorn falling from a tree to emphasize the point? Not all acorns fell, not at the same time anyway. But those were the ramblings of a sleepy mind and she tried hard to refocus on the present situation.
His tone was very petulant, almost childish, made even more so by the fact that he didn't bother to explain and that he was still keeping an eye on the fire, however discreet. Instead of infuriating her it amused her somewhat. It was...kind of adorable, she thought, and she wondered if this was what it felt like to have a little brother. A little stubborn, quarrelsome brother.
"Well, I'm sorry of it bothers you. But there's nothing I can do about it," she said matter-of-factly. "Do you hate fire?" she asked next, although she believed she already knew the answer. It didn't hurt to tease him a little, though.
At such an inquiry, he simply grit his teeth and growled out a , "Yes."
Though he still did not look away from it for fear it might go out as he supposedly wished. In truth, the very idea made him anxious, even as the lull of the fire was also intoxicating.
Yes.. he hated fire. But he also loved it. Such a curse!
"Yes."
She knew it. Whether he truly hated the substance, she had no way of knowing, but she had an inkling he would've gone along with any answer that contradicted her. It brought a smile to her face although she hid that in the sleeping bag so he wouldn't see. "I see," she answered then. "I hope you don't mind, then, if I keep it up until morning..." With that, she was off to sleep once more, although there probably wasn't much longer until her predicted morning would come to awaken her, to bring her back fully into the land of the waking.
When the sky was still leaden-gray with early morning clouds, when the sun was not yet fully risen, and when the forest birds began their song, Sacora's eyes blinked open to see the diminishing flames of her fire before her. She squinted them shut as she let out a yawn and stretched her limbs. Sitting up, she brushed the hair out of her face and bent over to her pack to retrieve her waterskin...oh wait...she then remembered she had left it at the fire she made for the moth boy the previous night. Speaking of the moth boy..."Good morning."
((Hope you don't mind the time skip? I'm estimating that it was about 3-4 hours after her last remark before falling back asleep.))
By the time Sacora awoke, he was exhausted, and it was evident in his eyes. But like a drug, he remained close to the diminishing fire. And at her statement of 'goodmorning,' he only growled and retorted, "What's so good about it? I told you- I don't like the day."
As expected, the moth boy had nothing happy to say. "What's so good about it? I told you--I don't like the day." Sacora got out of her sleeping bag and folded it up to stuff in her pack. When she was done with that, she strode past him to the dead fire where her cloth of rations and waterskin lay--untouched.
"Well, I used to be afraid of the night," Sacora said, "until someone taught me that there was both beauty in night and day." She washed her face with water from the waterskin as well as refreshed her mouth, spitting the water out on the ground but not in full view of the moth boy. "My name is Sacora, by the way," she said when she was done. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, she turned back to the campfire where he was stationed and got a good look at his face.
"Goodness...you didn't sleep at all?" She knelt down to absorb some fire back within her palms, her equivalent of putting out a fire, at least one small enough to do so. "You must be awfully tired." She looked at his arm a little worriedly, wondering if she should suggest for him to go to a healer..."I know I must seem like I ask a lot of questions, but do you want food? At least, to put some strength into you. I'm a little worried about...about that arm of yours. And your wings could use some mending up."
Though she said and offered a lot, Sacora's actions of taking and absorbing the flames made him jump and suddenly cling onto her hand.
"The fire!" his eyes were wide. "What did you do to it!?" And his tone was accusing- but also desperate.
A rush of heat always went up her palms whenever she absorbed a fire. It was not painful; rather, it was comforting and relaxing. It was a special thing she could do especially with fire that came from her body. Fire lit from foreign origins were often more prickly to absorb, but still absorb-able nonetheless (although not ideal). The way the moth boy accosted her though, one could've sworn she'd just murdered his favorite pet.
"The fire! What did you do to it!?" He jolted and clung onto her hand, causing her to jolt and give a small unintelligible exclamation of surprise.
"Ea-easy, easy," she coaxed him, recovering from her initial shock. "I only put it out. You know, because it's morning, and we don't need a fire. It's something I can do with my hands because, as you've probably known by now, I can use fire magic...you shouldn't attempt to do the same."
Miersck was examining her hand as if looking for some sort of opening to get the fire back out. He must have looked silly- and when she explained about her fire powers, his eyes shot up to her- and he suddenly jerked away.
"Fire mage? You're a fire mage!?"
Great! This was just terrific! They were the WORST of them all!
Sacora was even more baffled when he felt her hand over as if to search for the missing fire, or to find out how she absorbed it. "Ummm..." He did look kind of silly, reminding her of a curious child, but when she came to the explanation of how she could control fire he suddenly jerked away as if she were something poisonous. The action confused her further (and maybe hurt her a little) but it was nothing in the face of his next question:
"Fire mage? You're a fire mage!?"
She touched the hand he had been clinging onto as if he had left some sort of injury there. "Yes...I am...but I won't hurt you." Was he previously mistreated by one? Was that why he was so wary?
Miersck took a wary step back.
"Pah! As if you can help it! Do you even know what fire can do to a moth fae?" he asked, accusingly. Fire was definitely like an addictive poison, where as with water? Water he just hated. But fire- fire was a breed all on it's own!
"Just stay... stay away from me." Another step back was taken. "And don't even.. even THINK about using those powers again!" He was so riled up by this, his wings bristled tightly against his back.
Well, Sacora didn't presume to know what had happened to the moth boy. Whatever it was, it made him very wary and naturally suspicious of her. However, his curt response cleared up a few more things. "Pah! As if you can help it! Do you even know what fire can do to a moth fae?"
Sacora sat very still when she heard that he was a moth fae. A fae! She knew they existed, for most Serenians shared a part human, part fae bloodline. But she had never really seen one before. It amazed her, and she found herself regarding this boy as an ancient being even though he was younger than her. Through this amazement the bite of his words still came through, and Sacora was compelled to ask, "Other than burning you, I..." I can't think of anything else, was what Sacora had been planning to say. Were there other effects she was unaware of?
"Just stay...stay away from me. And don't even...even THINK about using those powers again!" He took a step back and his wings bristled in what looked like the moth fae equivalent to raised hackles.
"I don't know what experiences you've had at the hands of other fire mages," she then said, "but I'm not the sort to attack others randomly. Not all mages are the same. Surely that matters more than just possessing the power?" But she couldn't blame him. She guessed she would be wary also if she were near a mage who commanded an element that was especially deadly to her. She sighed. "Well, I can't say for sure that I'll ever stop using my magic. But it certainly wouldn't be to hurt innocent people."
She rolled up her sleeping bag and stuffed it into her pack, along with the rations and water...She stopped there, and took the rations back out. She laid the cloth bundle on the ground carefully, as she had done the previous night. "Since you don't take kindly to my presence, I suppose I have no choice but to leave. Here's some food, though...take care." She wanted to say something about him getting help for his arm, but that advice might be taken the wrong way with this boy. Stepping carefully away from the food, she turned around and continued on the path, leaving the moth boy behind her.
((Since the men of the village were debating a hunt, I was thinking Sacora could reach the village before dark, then overhear of it somehow and try to stop them?
Add: Or they could be going on the hunt while she's on the way and then she runs into them.))
OOC: I was actually thinking the same thing XD
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Miersck only glared at her, and didn't bother to move until she was far out of his sight. But even then, he still felt anxious, and looked in every which direction before turning away from the rations she offered him. Though she was probably harmless, he wasn't about to take a risk. And he felt exhausted.
His eyes darted around the forest as she began to check to make sure no one else was around. His paranoia was so great, it took him over an hour before he felt even remotely secure. Then he tested his wings, wincing as he felt they were still tender, but used them none the less as he took off from the ground and landed in a near by old oak tree. He was high enough no one ought to have noticed him, and being completely exhausted, he sought to get some proper sleep.
But before he did so, he peered down at the darkness consuming his arm and frowned. At least the moon would no longer affect him- until well...
The next cycle. And at that thought, he shivered.
Pushing aside the thoughts with anger, he went about producing a ball of silk- a small cocoon for himself to sleep him high up in the tree. It helped blocked out the daylight, and felt warm and snug when he was inside. An unusual practice, but it was unique to his kind. And as he remained within it as it was hung between two branches of a tree, he felt the winds rock it, lulling him off into a nightmarish sleep.
((Awesomeness ;D
Also go ahead and NPC some of the villagers, although I think you already know that))
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With an ache in her conscience, Sacora finally reached a small town well before dusk was midway. The town was way off the course she had planned to take, so she was most definitely lost on that little episode with the moth boy the previous night. Had this been under different circumstances, she would've felt relieved to have found this town. But she was still worrying about the fae. Did he accept her food? Was his sickness--whatever it is--getting better, or worse? Would he end up dying despite her efforts, which she had to admit, were not that much?
These thoughts continued to assail her even after she found herself graciously welcomed by the townspeople. They seemed a little on edge about something when they discovered she had come in through the forest path, but were otherwise friendly and showed her to the only inn and tavern there was in the place.
She had money enough for them and bought a room and a meal for the night. Nursing a cup of watered wine by the inn's fire as she waited for her meal, she found her thoughts going back once again to the moth fae out in the forest. Darkness would once again claim the land, and it would be cold out there. How would he manage? She had no way of knowing that one of his innate abilities included the construction of a silk cocoon in which he could sleep in peace and warmth. After all, she was not in the forest, not there to see what he was doing.
The loud peal of a church bell or something similar sounded out in the town streets, jolting Sacora out of her reverie. She then heard something like a town crier shouting something, and the heavy creak of metal as the town gate was being sealed. She headed for the window closest to the commotion and witnessed the event for herself.
"To your doors, to your doors!" the town crier was saying. " 'Tis curfew, and no one is allowed outside till daybreak comes again! This is mandatory!"
Sacora frowned. A curfew? It was not strange for a town to have a curfew, but...why so early? It was barely dark. Well, growing dark, but still. The hour was much too soon for such a thing. When the gate was done being sealed and the town crier moving off to repeat his announcement in another part of the town, Sacora settled back into her seat, thinking, wondering. Within the inn, the proprietor was already locking up the doors, barring any exit--or entrance--to the place.
Come to think of it, she was probably the only customer here. Usually an establishment like this had quite a following when it was dark, but here, it was eerily silent and empty.
Her food was soon ready and she sat down at a table to eat it. Feeling unnerved by the silence, she asked the innkeep after a few bites, "It's not usual for an inn to be so empty at dark. Could it be that your regular customers are barred from coming here in the evenings?"
The innkeep looked uneasy as he wiped the counter and answered her from where he stood, "Aye, lass. Unfortunately so." He coughed once and added, "Ye must've heard the curfew announcement."
"Indeed...I did." She took a few more bites. "Why is there a curfew in place?"
The innkeeper stopped what he was doing and sighed. He looked at her, conflicted, as if he wasn't sure whether to tell her the truth or not. Eventually he did, in a pained voice. "Truth is, lass, that there's a monster out in them woods."
Sacora paused in her eating. A monster?
"Aye, a monster. It all started just a few days back, when old man Shep was out n' about with his wife...they took the cart n' went to the town next us...and when they came back, Shep was dead with a look of horror twisted on his face, rest his soul."
She was beginning to fear for the moth boy. "What...what happened to him? What did the monster do to him?"
"Ah, I'd fergotten. His wife says he touched it, the cursed thing. And that's all it took. He was soon screaming and hollering in such a way ye'd think the devil was torturing him. And then he fell to the ground in horrible fits. She got him up into the wagon n' drove him back as fast as she could, but alas, he was dead when he reached home."
A monster that was so deadly, it would kill you with just the slightest contact...Sacora felt horrified, her worry for the lonely moth fae increasing tenfold. She wished there was some way she could warn him, but the doors were locked and there was a curfew on the entire town. It would look mightily suspicious of her if she disregarded their efforts at keeping their town, and everyone in it, safe. She could, on the other hand, tell the innkeeper of the moth boy...surely they could send a guard or something like that to retrieve him? To at least bring him to a safe place?
No. That was stupid. Fae were rare to run into. She would be branded a madwoman the moment she said something of the sort to this man. Sacora clenched her fist as she realized the only way she could help Miersck was to warn him the next morning, after leaving town. As things stood, no one would believe her if she told them about him, and it was against the rules to leave at the moment. She had no choice but to wait.
She quickly finished up her meal in silence and thanked the innkeeper for his hospitality. He nodded in acknowledgement of her gratitude and continued working a bit below stairs as she went up to rest in her room. She washed her face, undressed, slipped into a more comfortable nightgown, and went to bed early. She just didn't fancy stretching time any longer, awake and worrying about the moth fae.
Sacora was unable to tell how long she'd been asleep when she heard voices outside her door. They were not unnecessarily loud, but they were awfully obstructive in the way of continuing her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open the moment she heard them, muttering warily, with light tsks if disapproval. She recognized the innkeeper's voice along with a stout middle-aged woman's, probably his wife.
"...if they keep at it..."
"...but once and for all..."
"...thank Kia it took no other victims."
Sacora rose from her bed warily, her interest piqued at no other victims. They must have meant the monster. But she also liked to know why they were out and about near her room so late. She walked barefoot to the door and opened it a crack, revealing the forms of the innkeeper and a stout middle-aged woman as she'd guessed standing before the window at the end of the hall, which was just outside her room, in their nightclothes.
"Ah," the innkeeper said, flushing with embarrassment. "We're sorry lass. Didn't mean to wake ye."
"Did we bother you?" the woman asked her, concernedly.
"No," Sacora responded, then exited the room and looked out the window with them. The streets were dark, but for a crowd of men clamoring below with torches and all manners of tools that could be used as blunt force weapons or things to impale with. Frowning, she said, "I thought there was a curfew?"
"Aye, but there's been talk of a hunt fer the monster a while now," the innkeeper explained. "Everyone's been itchin' to get it over with so there's none else claimed by the beast. The men in particular have been very anxious...seems they're caving in, tonight."
"Will the guards let them?" Sacora wondered aloud.
"As you can see, they're getting ready to open the gate," the woman pointed out, guiding Sacora's eyes in the direction of the quickly moving group of torches heading for the gates.
Sacora frowned. Well, at least the monster would be taken care of...then again, they might not find it at all. Forests were excellent places to hide in. "Do they even know what the monster looks like, to try and hunt it down like that?"
"Why of course," the innkeeper said. "Shep's wife told everyone! She said not to be deceived. It's got the form of a boy, a winged boy...but just a touch'll do you in right quick, just like it had with Shep."
A boy, a winged boy.
A sense of dread fell over Sacora as surely as if the innkeeper had just spelled out her own doom.
Or rather, the moth boy's.
"No..." She ran down the stairs, much to the surprise of her hosts, regardless of the fact that she was leaving all her things up in her room, and running about barefoot in only a nightdress at that. She tried the front door of the inn--with no luck--and forced her way through a relatively easy back door in the kitchen instead. Her hosts were yelling and making a big commotion back inside the building, but she ignored them and ran all the way through the town, to the slowly opening gate and the eager group of armed men preparing for a hunt. She had to warn the moth boy...to get him out of danger...anything but let him be hunted!
"Stop!" she was calling out to the people. They barely noticed her, caught up as they were in their own reverie. "Stop, you're making a big mistake! The boy does not need to be hunted--he needs to be helped!"
Some people heard her and the news of what she'd said spread through their group like wildfire. The men paused a moment to regard her; in confusion, in awe, in suspicion, in growing rage. If she could stop the hunt before it even started, all the better...if not...well, she still remembered the path back to that dry forest clearing. Hopefully the moth boy wouldn't be there. She could only pray.
Naturally, one girl could not stop a mass of angry men. Mob mentality ruled, and they were quick to shout for the guards.
"Quick! Take her and get her out of here!"
"Do you hear her speak? Trying to defend the beast!"
"If you had seen it, you're lucky to be alive!"
"Unless he tried to deceive you to to get to us to lower our guard!" The man growled. "Come on men!" He gestured for them to follow. "We've got a monster to catch!"
ANd into the night they went, their torch lights bobbing in a wild path as they went. Though if they were aiming to scare the monster- they might succeed, or at least succeed in warning it of their approach!
Except well... Even though it was night- the moth boy was still asleep! And thought he noises echoed through the valley, he continued to snore within the confines of his little woven cocoon.
Of course, Sacora's plea went nowhere with these men. They immediately rejected any notion of helping the injured moth fae, becoming bent on his destruction instead; perhaps even more so than they had moments before. They shouted for the guards and made all sorts of remonstrations that supported their thirst for revenge.
"Do you hear her speak? Trying to defend the beast!"
"If you had seen it, you're lucky to be alive!"
"Unless he tried to decieve you to get us to lower our guard...Come on men! We've got a monster to catch!" With those words, the men carried out their stalwart march, believing theirs to be a mission to further protect their town.
He's not a beast...She commended them for their fierce protectiveness, but if only they stopped to think! If only they didn't just jump to conclusions--
Sacora let out a startled exclamation as a guard roughly grabbed her by the wrist. "I'm sorry ma'am, but we can't let you cause any more trouble. You're coming with us. Besides, you seem to know quite a bit about this monster..."
She erupted a burst of fire from her hand that caught the man off guard (pun not intended). "Whoa!" he exclaimed as he jumped back to avoid being burned. Once he regained his composure, he called for a few friends to come to his aid, but by then Sacora was already slipping in between the mass of men out past the gate. She quickly slipped out from between them and into the dark woods, staying beside the path but not so close that she'd be detected. If she ran, she could possibly make it faster than they would. She was only one person, after all; they were a large group of men. However, they must've been alerted to her escape by now, so it was not without its own dangers.
It was here that the predicament of being barefoot became more apparent...she tried to shake that thought away as she continued running in the darkness. A fireball to light the way was not an option here, for they'd spot her soon enough running ahead of them.
She collapsed into the clearing breathlessly after having broken through the bushes and brambles and undergrowth to come back up on the path she had taken the day before. It took her almost half a day to reach the town yesterday--she had a considerable break by the roadside for her lunch and some time to think, which added to that--so, by running, she'd gotten at least a head start which meant she was dashing ahead of the mob for...well...she'd lost track.
It felt like a long time in her panicked state, and she was always casting glances behind her back to track the progress of the mob. They were easy to spot, what with all their torches and loud voices. She took breaks when she could afford to, and was quickly up again when she believed she could hear their shouts coming from around the bend.
But she was finally here, and there was no time to lose. Struggling to her aching feet, she called out whilst catching her breath: "Moth boy...where are you? You have to...to flee...! Those men are coming--they want to kill you!" Her feet stepped on something and she took a sharp step back. It was her little cloth-bag of rations, stained a bit with her feet's blood, and for the most part torn and ravaged by what looked like the marks of little forest animals.
Maybe she didn't have to say this, though. Maybe he was already gone, somewhere safe. She didn't see him anywhere, and there was no indication of his presence...little did she know there was a cocoon up in the trees in which the moth boy slept, unaware of the danger.
Miersck heard little of the shouting- and what he did hear from the girl made him softly groan as he turned over where he slept, but continued- but now he was snoring. It was a soft noise, and might have been easily drowned out by the echoing call of the men, and the hiss and chirp of the night animals.
But what DID wake him up was the sudden sensation that a fire was nearby- one at the ends of the men's torches, to be precise, as he grumbled groggily from inside his cocoon- but still didn't leave it- wondering what in the world could have roused him. And then realizing he was sensing fire, he grit his teeth. Was that fire girl back? He thought he told her to leave him alone! And with a growl, he peered out between the cocoon silks and sure enough, there she was.
Growling, he barked down at her, "Hey! I'm trying to sleep! I thought I told you I don't like-" But it was in the middle of his outburst that he realized-
she had no fire at all, and suddenly his face twisted in confusion. Did she have some sort of invisible fire to draw him out!?
There was no sound in the clearing for a while but for her ragged breathing. Besides the distant noises of the slowly gathering mob, that is. It was still far, still a safe distance away if the moth fae wanted to get away from them. But as it had probably dawned on Sacora, maybe he wasn't here. Maybe he had left. Her main reason for worry though was his arm and wings--he didn't look as if he could go very far on his own, and therefore, would probably stick around the same area to rest up his injuries.
She contemplated turning back around or searching the surrounding area when the moth boy's voice rang out loud and clear from somewhere in the trees: "Hey! I'm trying to sleep! I thought I told you I don't like-"
As he paused, Sacora's head whipped up to see a sort of whitish, bubble thing in between the branches of a few trees. The crescent moon gave some if not a lot of light to detect it after hearing his voice. She realized it was a cocoon after some initial confusion. "Moth boy! You're still here? And now you're sleeping?" She shook her head. "Forget that--you've got to get out of here. There's a bunch of men from the town I was staying at...they say one of their people touched you some time ago and died from it, and now they believe you're a monster, and they're coming out with torches and pitchforks and all manner of tools-turned-weapons to come and kill you!" It came out in one big rush, although it was hopefully slow enough for him to comprehend. Her tone was desperate, and rightfully so.
Such irritation! Such noise! The moth boy growled, his nose wrinkling as he moved about inside his cocoon.
"What are you spitting out acorns about? Can't you just leave me alone!? I was trying to sleep!" Never mind the warnings he did not hear, or the plea in her voice. He wasn't exactly a pleasant fae when he first awoke (or even when he was awake..), and he had just about enough of this area all together. He decidedly, inwardly, as he huffed and growled and tried to get back to sleep- that when he was done sleeping, he'd be rid of this place for good!
Ugh. He was obstinate, even now! Sacora didn't know what to do at this time to convince him to flee. Pretending to attack him with fire might work, but she didn't want to risk hurting him...neither did she think he could get far without help...oh, it was just so hard to decide! She listened to the sounds of the forest and found the mob to be growing closer. "What is it that you have, anyway, that causes a person to die when they touch you?" she asked randomly, stalling for time in the wrong place. She just felt like she had to say something while she was gathering her options, and sating her curiosity seemed like one of the top things...although perhaps not very wise.
All went quiet in the cocoon, the moth fae gone still. It took him a moment, but soon he popped his head out a.d growled.
"What did you just accuse me of?!"
"Do you recall, several days ago, a man who touched you?" Sacora went on anyway. "He had a cart with him, and a wife...he started yelling in pain and convulsing..."
Miersck paled, looking down at the young woman in shock before his face wrinkled sourly as he gestured towards her.
"Rotten acorns, can't you just leave me alone!?" he shouted, voice strained and shaking with anger. "If you want me gone of these woods, I will! But in my own time! Now leave me! GET!"
"When he got back to his town, he died!" she yelled back. "And now, everyone there thinks you're a monster who cursed him! They want to kill you. They're going to do it tonight." The sounds of the mob were growing closer. Sacora could feel her heart race. "I didn't want to have to bother you again, but if it weren't for the danger, I wouldn't be out here in only my nightgown and...not...wearing any shoes." Heaving a sigh, she began to head back down the path to where the mob was. "They brought along lots of fire, by the way."
After a moment, he snarled and poked his head back out from the cocoon.
"Why would you dress in such clothes?" he said, red faced. "And why didn't you tell me sooner a mob was out to kill me! Sweet rotting acorns, you're really dumb aren't you!" And he scrambled to get out of his cocoon, tripping on his way down and landing in a crumpled and painful heap. He ranted more about spoiled acorns and nuts than one could imagine before scrambling to his dashing the wrong way!
"Hey, I tried, but you wouldn't listen!" Her back was to him now as she was making her way down toward the mob. She had to stall them somehow, now that the moth boy knew what danger he was in. She could buy time for him to escape...
She heard a large thud and found him crumpled on the ground. Alarmed, she was about to head over to him when he started running down the wrong way!
"H-hey!" Sacora yelled after him, alarmed. She didn't want to have to, but she blocked his way with two outstretched arms, essentially letting him ram into her. "Where are you going? This way leads to the mob! I'm going down to them to stop them. You should run over there!" And she pointed in the opposite direction.
"And you shouldn't have interfered!"
Sacora yelped as a man with a dagger somehow emerged from the bushes and caught her wrist, pulling her backwards.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" the man smirked. "There he is--the monster." His eyes trained on Miersck with a cold, menacing glitter.
Sacora grimaced under the man's iron grip. "J-just run!" she stammered to the moth boy, before working her magic into the center of her palm for another fire blast.
Miersck didn't even get a chance to retort when some crazy man came out of the bushes. Taken back, Miersck found himself bristled and growling through his teeth as he snapped out his wings and took flight. Before Sacora could get a chance to use her powers, his unmarked hand came down and he grabbed onto her wrist, yanking her off the ground and snarling, "Hold onto me but don't touch the black mark!" he barked, and growled as he tried to fly higher, but it was difficult. She weighed a ton! And not to mention his wings were barely even mended!
The moth fae started taking flight, as Sacora had hoped he would. But she came to find that it was not for the reason she had originally assumed. His hand came down roughly on her wrist, taking her off the ground with him. "Hold onto me but don't touch the black mark!" He then tried flying higher, although Sacora could see how it was straining him. The man below them started shouting and throwing things. Sticks, stones, his dagger...Sacora kicked one stone away before it could touch them and she was very grateful the dagger missed them by a long shot.
"Forgive me," she said, as she then got an idea to raise them a bit higher. At least enough for him to do what he wanted. She lowered her dangling feet and shot fire from them--the momentum would send them up a quite a bit, although after this she had no plan for keeping them airborne.
Sensing the conjuring of fire, Miersck's breath caught in his throat.
"What are you doing!?" But it was too late, and the pair suddenly were propelled higher, his wings scraping off a nearby tree and nearly costing him his hold on her.
"Are you crazy!?" he shouted, feeling his grip on her sleep. "By the Great Oak Tree, I can't hold on!"
"You don't have to!" As soon as she caught sight of a sturdy tree branch, she jumped off and clung to it. "Go on, save yourself!" She knew he couldn't have held onto her for long. She didn't want to burden him. "I'll find some way to deal with him...or them..." For the man was now joined by two others.
When she jumped off, Miersck nearly crashed into a tree. He managed to get a hold of his balance and turned around, growling shrilly at the woman.
"What are you doing!? Are you crazy!? If those men are out for blood, who's to say they won't try to kill you?"
Sacora shook her head. "I can manage. You should just try and go as far as you can...there'll be lots of fire, and that's not good for you, is it?" She hefted herself up so that she was standing on the branch. She clung to the trunk for support. "You've been through enough already," she said, glancing at his black mark and wings. "Find someplace safe and just...wait it out." A plan was somewhat formulating in her mind, although like she said, it'd be a fiery one. She'd considered pretending to kill Miersck to trick the men, but in their enraged state they might want to bring his body back to the town to burn or cut up into pieces, or whatever sick intention they had.
If she wanted to use a decoy, well, there wasn't much she could do in the way of imitating his wings. So scaring the men into retreating was perhaps one of the only other options she had. Scare them, and then just flee. She thought about the things she was leaving behind in the town and decided to just sacrifice them. She could get newer things back home in Jadenshine. Just as long as she could somehow keep them from killing the moth fae.
Miersck just stared at her as if she was crazy.
"What!?" He shook his head. "Why would you- you... you don't even know me! Why would you risk your life?"
Ah, the age-old question of why anyone would risk their neck for someone they didn't even know. Sacora shrugged, opened her mouth to say something, shut it once she thought twice, and gave him a confused frown. "Well because...you need help and...I wouldn't be able live with myself if I knew they killed you and I did nothing to stop them." She peered down at the clearing and saw more men, bearing torches and bigger weapons, joining the three below them. "All right, you should go now--they're coming in bigger numbers." She held out a palm and gathered fire into her hand. "Here goes nothing." So saying, she drew her arm back and threw the fireball down at them as casually if she was chucking a stone or a pinecone.
Miersck couldn't help but gape, and as the flame fell- nearly did he. He managed to catch himself at the last second, when the screams of the men below who barely avoided the fire sobered him.
"What do you plan to do? You've got no wings! You can't just fly!" Was she aiming to spend all day int he trees just pecking fire magics at the men? If anything, it seemed to be making them more angry!
Sacora rolled her eyes. She should've expected that Miersck would argue with her. "I can get down this tree later--and haven't you heard of distractions?" The whole point was to direct the attention on her, angry or otherwise. "Besides, I don't recall you being so concerned for me earlier. Unless you have a better plan?" So maybe if he wouldn't go away if she asked him to, perhaps he would if she angered him. She didn't need to be reminded that her situation wasn't the best.
"Better plan?" came his voice, shrilly. "What's a better plan than to run?"
"Then why don't you do that? You can't take me with you, but you can certainly take yourself."
--
((what should we do? I'm a little blank in the head right now O.O. It feels like my mind went empty for a moment.))
Miersck panicked. Yes, he was very well aware that he could escape, and should escape but something held him firmly in his spot.
"By the Great Acorn Tree, I really am cursed." And to the girl he growled, "Just stay here. I'll distract them. It's me they want!" And before she could protest, the moth fae dropped from the air, diving towards the men and landed just a few paces behind them.
"I'm the winged monster that you seek! You want me? Come and get me!" And he turned fast on his heels and took off, the woods soon becoming a blur on all sides around him as he heard the cry of men and the thunder of their feet as they began to make chase after him.
And all he could think about was 'What the hell am I doing!?' He must've gotten soft- or stupid, during his time here in the land of men. But one thing was for certain, he knew he couldn't live with the guilt of another person becoming harmed or killed because of him.
"Distract? What? You? But you're--"
Before she could say anything further, he dove down into the clearing just a few paces behind the men! Sacora wanted to scream. He was the one they wanted! How could he just do that!? If she were gifted with the power of flight like he was, she would've come down and...well, stopped him somehow!
"I'm the winged monster that you seek!" he exclaimed. "You want me? Come and get me!" And then he dashed off, renewing the thrill of the chase for the angry men as they followed on his trail.
Sacora had to admit that he was fast, but would that be enough to outrun this mob? And by the gods--she was being useless here! She got down the tree as fast as her abilities and nightdress could allow and soon found her feet touching solid ground.
Retracing the path the moth fae took with her memory, she slipped into a part of the forest off the path, starting into a run again to be see if she could do a little something to trick the men into dashing the wrong way. She went ahead for sometime before she was sure she'd placed herself in the right area, with the mob's torchlight behind her, and threw a stone to the far left. It created a rustle that alerted the nearest man.
"Over there!" he cried, and led the chase in that direction. She slipped quietly over there as well.
The mob might have been fooled, but Miersck had excellent vision at night. When he realized what she was up to, he was quick to head her way. After a few boughts of flying (that thankfully no one had seen) he landed near her in a huff.
"What are you doing? Are you drinking swamp water or something? I told you I had this!" he hissed.
She turned to him in surprise, stifling an exclamation. At his question, she said, "Well your idea gave me a better plan than the one I had before. Draw them far off your path, and then flee from the scene."
Miersck growled.
"Foolish woman! " grabbing her.by the wrist, he pulled her along behind him. "Come on, we.can out run them this way!"
She had not a chance to say anything in response to his insult when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her after him. Outrunning the mob didn't seem so bad either. "Ok then," she said, deciding to go along with it. She was kind of tired of contradicting the moth fae all the time.
They didn't have to go far before the sounds of the mob began to fade. But that didn't stop the moth from running, and soon their panted breaths, the sounds of their foot falls on damp grass, and the chirping of night insects and birds were all he heard as the winds rustled the trees over head.
And he kept on running, even as his legs grew tired and his throat, sore from breath-
until he came to a sudden stop and bristled.
He could hear and smell water just ahead, and his face paled as his wings and shoulder slumped.
"A river..."
They ran and ran and ran, till Sacora lost track of how far or how long they'd been going. It was to her comfort that the sounds of the mob were put farther behind them the more they went. Eventually the mob could not be heard at all, and Sacora wanted to mention that to the moth fae, but his jarring speed prevented her from doing so.
He came to a sudden stop and a tense moment passed between them. The rushing sounds of a moving body of water could be heard. The moth fae remarked as much, with his pale face and slumped wings and shoulders, "A river..."
Sacora looked about them for some log or stone they could settle down on. "Let's get our rest first," she suggested, "then I'll see if there's a fallen tree or something similar down the river."
Recalling his last encounter with a fallen log in a river, he grimaced. He did have some more experience with swimming since Alycia, the mermaid, had taught him, but that didn't mean he liked water anymore than he had before! In fact, it was another thing he loathed.
Shaking his head, he took a step back.
"No... we should look for another route. I'm not crossing that thing." And his voice was final.
Sacora blinked. "Oh, ok. I thought you wanted to cross it at first. That's fine too."
Miersck growled at her assumption and stormed away.
"We keep moving. Find another way," he said, storming through the tall reeds and hoping desperately some other option might head their way. He could fly over it, but his wings were so sore that he was afraid that he might drop one of them, or even they both might end up in the river if his wings were to give out. They were strong enough to carry him, certainly, but straining them and trying to carry another in his condition...
Even he was not that foolish enough to try.
"We keep moving," the moth fae growled. "Find another way."
Sacora watched as he stormed away a few paces ahead of her, searching for an alternate route, just anything but the river. She was a little too tired to wonder about it at this point and decided she didn't fancy a night dip in the water should the crossing fail either. She followed after him slowly, checking their surroundings to see if there was any other way to be found. The river seemed like it stretched on for quite a while, though. Not that there ever was a way around a river that ran straight like this, other than crossing a log or path of stones.
"Wait!" Sacora hissed out at the moth fae, and grabbed him by the arm suddenly. She knew he wouldn't like this gesture, but instinctive fear moved her to do so. "Do you...do you hear that?" Her face paled. What she thought she heard was a loud rustling some few paces to...their right? Left? Behind? It was unclear. But she heard it, and it sounded like something big.
Feeling her grip his arm, he bristled and growled at her, yanking his arm away, but feeling only some minor relief to recall that was NOT his marked arm.
"Are you crazy?!" he snapped. "I told you not to-" But then he heard the rustling and the sounds of grunting and froze.
Miersck froze as well when he finally heard the noise. Sacora was the same, wondering what it could be that was terrorizing them like this. She wished that it was just a false alarm, like those big shadows that turn out to be cast by little things. But the forest was blanketed with darkness, making everything shadowed, and there was no mistaking the size behind the creature that was making the noises.
There was no sound more vivid or crucial to their lives at the moment than this rustling and grunting that was coming ever closer. Sacora could then identify with rabbits and deer whenever they stood completely stock-still, paralyzed with fear; for she now felt the same way. A little while later a large bear head emerged from between a few bushes, gnawing at the branches, which led her to think that maybe that was a berry bush. It didn't seem to notice them...yet.
Swearing through his teeth, Miersck found himself gripping onto Sacora's arms.
Of all the luck! He had to run into another damned bear out here! It reminded him of the incident with he and Alycia, and he took a hesitant step back.
"No sudden moves," he whispered, trying to- as slowly and quietly as possible, take another one back. "Let's just back away until he's out of sight."
Sacora felt like holding her breath, transfixed as she was on the bear, when Miersck gripped onto her arms and turned the focus on him. "No sudden moves," he whispered to her, his voice tense and suspenseful. "Let's just back away until he's out of sight." Sacora nodded wordlessly, for there seemed to be no other way than that to get out of the bear's vicinity. She looked down at the moth fae's feet to see how he was moving and imitated his careful and slow step with one of her feet. She felt more chills run up and down her spine as her foot landed softly onto the ground, pressing down into the dirt. She was imagining that the bear could somehow hear even that. Her fears were ungrounded, though, when her foot was fully down and the bear was still occupied with its bush. However she still worried it could somehow hear the wild beating of her heart.
The pair had gone a successful distance before well- the bear caught wind of them. The suspicious grunt in their direction was enough indication and soon Miersck swore.
"Rotten acorns," he said, turning quick on his heels. "RUN!"
Sacora's heart almost leapt out of her mouth when the bear suddenly looked at them and grunted with more suspicion and force behind its throat. She was frozen in fear once again until the moth boy found yelled, "RUN!" and then she was quickly running after him. Perhaps that wasn't the best of ideas, because the bear might run after them, thinking them to be fast-moving prey. And Sacora thought she could hear the snaps and cracks and rushes of the great creature's paws moving through the forest underbrush after them. But she didn't dare look behind to confirm it; she just raced after Miersck, following wherever he happened to run. Then she stupidly remembered last minute that most animals were afraid of fire.
She stopped running and turned around, confirming with her eyes that the bear had been chasing after them. It was charging up to her quite fast, too. Without a second thought she shot a burst of fire from her palms, not to shoot at the bear, just to hold swirling in front of her palms, and the animal skidded on the ground before turning tail to run away. When it did, she released the fire, making it dissipate into nothing, and just stood there breathlessly. Her eyes were wide with fear and exhaustion from the exertions of the night. Things had been crazy, indeed.
Miersck was in awe that Sacora's powers had worked, and for the life of him, couldn't get himself to stop approaching her, as if he might do something irrational- like embrace her, or worse. But once he caught himself, with the fire's drawing having dissipated, he blushed and turned away.
"Err... Forest Spirits... we're lucky that worked." And he gave a sheepish rub to the back of his neck.
Sacora didn't even notice the moth fae's approach until he spoke up. "Err...Forest Spirits...we're lucky that worked." And then he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Sacora stared at him blankly for a few seconds, as if she didn't know who he was. Then her eyes brightened back into alertness and she nearly fell to her knees from the exhaustion.
"Yes...we were lucky indeed," she said, shivering from the memory. She had half-imagined, while she was manipulating the fire, that it would somehow not work and the bear would maul them both. But, it worked, and the bear was gone. It was then Sacora suddenly snapped her head back and looked around frantically. "You don't think the mob saw the fire, do you?"
Miersck grit his teeth.
"I'm not waiting around to find out, Come on!" And he pushed through the tall grasses that followed the river before spotting a wooden rope bridge off in the distance.
"A bridge..." And even someone as unhappy as.Miersck acted had to smirk and he ran towards it, pausing as he noticed that some of the planks looked missing near the middle... And if the rope wasn't sturdy when they tried.to cross, the raging river would gobble them below. And even that, from.this location, was quite the drop.
Sacora followed Miersck although her steps were not as fast as they had been at the start of this fiasco. She was beginning to grow tired. The fatigue was dawning on her and it amazed her that she was able to keep going for this long. How long had they been out in the forest? She wasn't sure. But she had an inkling that dawn might not be too far away.
Up ahead, the moth fae discovered a bridge. He smirked when he saw it, but then paused when he noticed it wasn't in the best shape for crossing. Planks were missing in the middle and the rope seemed weak. Just looking at it made Sacora dizzy. She shook her head and urged him to try another route. "It's too dangerous of a chance to risk," she said.
"Yeah, but what other options do we have? If we cross it..." He bit his lip, not believing what he was about to say. "Then we'd have thrown that mob off our trail." ANd hopefully that of the bear!
However..
the challenge would still exist on actually getting him on the bridge, as at the current moment, his legs were locked up in fear.
Miersck made a good point when he said crossing the bridge would get the mob off their trail. It was really convenient, now that she thought of it, if only it didn't look so decrepit. She spied her rest and comfort on the other side of that bridge (at least, as much as being in her nightgown with no shoes on can give her). Because then she wouldn't have to worry about the mob or some bear with the river in between them.
But she was too scared to. And so was the moth fae, for a good reason! There must've been something, though. Something they could do...She was about to suggest flying when she remembered how difficult it had been for him to keep her in flight for longer than a few minutes. So, no, flying was out of the question.
Nothing in her magic arsenal could help, either. I mean, come one. Fire magic? What was that going to help with? Burning down the bridge? Sure, maybe if they were already on the other side and the mob was trying to cross it. But not when they had to get over there. She squinted in the darkness, trying to see how man planks were missing at a time at the middle. Maybe they could jump it. But only if the rope (and the other planks) were strong enough to take that sort of force.
"You know any helpful spells to get us across that bridge, or anything?" Sacora asked. "Because I'm fresh out of ideas myself..." They could try and look for some way further downstream but it just wasn't guaranteed to yield any results. She wasn't sure if the moth fae was up for that either.
Miersck closed his eyes and took in a breath, holding it as his chest remained arched with it as he closed his eyes. And after exhaling, really slowly exhaling, Miersck couldn't believe what he suggested they do.
"None of my magics will help with this. We'll have to just play our luck the spirits don't want us dead today."
And it took every ounce of his being fighting against the screaming protests inside his head as he was able to move one foot at a time, and found himself beginning to cross the rickety bridge.
'Just don't look down...' he thought, red eyes glued to the other side of the ravine.