The great black dragon known as Raistlin contrasted starkly with the azure sky as he glided over the ocean, Sirena Island just on the horizon. The sun glinted off his scales, warming the faces of the two figures on his back: his lady, Mina, and her man, Nakaris. [where would you like me to land?] he asked Mina telepathically, gnashing his teeth in concentration as he altered his wingspan enough to turn them slightly to the right.
"In any of the inland coves will be fine," she called aloud over the rushing wind. The archmage reached a hand slightly back to touch Nakaris's bare leg, "I'll see you in a moment."
Without giving an explanation, Mina neatly tumbled over the Dragon's side. Her body whipped through the air before she turned it into a neat swan dive and plummeted into the ocean below, a mile from the coast.
Raistlin said nothing about it, just flew on. A few moments later he began his descent, careful not to jar the wounded man on his back. He circled a quarter of the island before he descended to a few feet above the ocean. [hold on..]
In a spray of seafoam, the dragon neatly landed in the water, skirting along a few feet on his own momentum before his belly scraped the sand. [You can get off here...the water is only a few feet deep. You should be able to stand easily.]
The two were in a cove shaped like a half-moon, the beach on one side bare and soaked in sun, the other bordered by pom trees which created a good amount of shade.
Raistlin left Nakaris in the water and trundled over to the sunny beach, laying down with a sigh so as to sun himself.
[Mina will be back in a bit.] Was all he said before he closed his eyes. Apparently, that meant conversation was over.
A young elven man of about twenty-something years cautiously approached the dragon, making sure that he appeared as non-threatening as possible. His golden hair was tied back with a simple band that kept the shoulder-length locks out of his face. As for his clothing, it was simple: knee-length tunic, plain pants, and boots. He carried an oaken staff and had a satchel slung over his left shoulder, hanging at his right side. "Hello," he said, looking directly at the dragon's face for any response. "Good day to you." His accent sounded a bit odd, as if he were deliberately shaping every single word. "I saw that there were two passengers with you when you arrived. Are they both well, or might they be in need of a healer? And are you in need of medical attention in any way, even minor?"
He didn't seem alarmed at all to be so near a dragon, but that was because in his days he had seen all manner of creatures and had seen to the medical needs of many, even after the unfortunate shipwreck that caused an abrupt shift in his vocation. The whole time he spoke and awaited a response, he never took his eyes off the dragon's face, as if it were absolutely necessary for him to be looking directly at whomever he was speaking to. Actually, it was, for he was completely deaf (a good thing for someone who attends Sirens, but of course he wasn't able to do much to stop the unfortunately hearing crew who heard the Siren song and whose shipwreck caused him to end up on this island in the first place). He was also telepathic, too, but he saw it as an intrusion of one's privacy if he did not seek to communicate first to a new person in the other available forms such as speaking.
Mina's rather abruptâ€"but smoothâ€"exit momentarily took Nakaris aback, his heart jumping up into his throat, before that battered, rational part of his mind took over and reminded him that she was a Siren, and this was her element. It was easy to forget that detail; aside from her ethereal beauty and the song he'd heard her sing once or twice in the heat of battle, she seemed nothing like a Siren to him. At least, not like the stereotypical ones in the old stories. He knew there was some truth to thoseâ€"there was a little truth to everything, reallyâ€"but it was undoubtedly biased. And besides...he'd never before seen her in her element, never been to the sea with her, to her home.
So, needless to say...it was easy to forget that the waters would not treat her the same way as they would a human. The waves probably welcomed her as a daughter, rather than as an invader.
That had been...sudden. And he couldn't help but wonder where she'd gone. Or if there were others here. But he wasn't worried. This was her backyard. Still, Siren or not, it was a wonder she'd been able to do that with broken ribs.
The landing brought him back to the present, and he cringed as they began to descend. He didn't much care for landings or take-offs, at least not as he was now, and as soon as they had landed, he gladly rolled off the dragon's back and into the clear water, welcoming the feel of both solid land beneath him and warm, cleansing water that would have reached to mid-thigh had he been standing. For now, though, he just crouched where he'd landed and collected himself, waited for his vision to settle and strength to build up just enough for him to move. It felt like every movement was a struggle, the smallest few steps horribly exhausting. He hated that. But all he could do was be patient; he hadn't the energy to be anything but patient.
A few moments of rest, and then Nakaris was forcing himself to his feet and staggering slowly into deeper water, until it was up to his stomach. The salt-water stung his pierced stomach and wounded wrists, but it felt good, like he could finally get clean, and it was easier to stand in this deep of water. Another small rest, and then he stooped carefully to gather sand and begin the lengthy task of scrubbing his bruised bare skin, of washing away dried blood and pain. Might as well get it out of the way while Mina was gone to...wherever she'd gone to.
He was sure he'd find out about it later.
The scrubbing began to hurt after a while, sand rubbing his skin raw in places that he'd already scrubbed, but he paid it no mind; it was a distant pain. He just focused on getting all that shit off himâ€"the demon's blood and lingering sensations of the whipping, the touching, the shameâ€"and never once really realized how roughly, even aggressively, he was treating his own body. He probably wouldn't have cared even had he known, though. He just wanted to be clean. And if he hurt himself in the process, so what? He could stop it if he wanted to.
He held his breath and wet his hair, ignored the stinging in his torn ears and chest, and undid the leather thong that held his hair back so that his hair fell freely down to his shoulders. Then he went to work on raking all the clotted gunk out until the red of the blood was washed out and the red-gold of his natural hair color shone through wetly. It was then back to scrubbing his body, though by then he was perfectly clean. But he still felt like he was covered in slime, like there were places he'd missed, even though he'd already scoured every inch at least twice.
Nakaris wasn't aware that they weren't alone.
One massive eyelid snapped open as the great ebon dragon sensed someone near him; someone who did not smell like someone he knew. A glistening scarlet iris and jagged pupil leered at the elven man, the man who smelled like the ocean. Raistlin knew that smell well, for that was the smell his mistress gave off. She smelled of battle, she smelled of blood and earth, but she always smelled like the ocean. Always. This man smelled of the ocean too, but his form was not Siren-ish. He looked all the world like an elf, and this Raistlin did not understand. He said nothing for a long time, merely stared back at the man. Then, he opened the other eye. Two massive eyes stared down the elvish man, and then both blinked. He sensed no malice eminating from this man, only saw within him a compassion to help. This man did not look the kind to follow Venorik and Darlig, he seemed like a man to side with the line of good. Raistlin did not side with the side of good, no, but he understood that sometimes the good could be persuaded to aid the evil. And was the good man offering help? Yes, yes he was. Raist raised his head on its long slender neck, and looked down upon the elf. ¦You offer healing?¦
That seemingly fragile head turned on its long muscled neck ¦M'lord? Nakaris? We've got company.¦
Suddenly, a soft singing eminated from the ocean waters. The seafoam frothed, and three heads pushed up from the surface. One blond, one brown, and one red and black. Three faces appeared next, and three pairs of shoulders. Mina was in the lead, flanked by two other siren women whom carried bundles. They were all naked, as everyone is in the Siren colonies within the waves. The three walked up the slope of sand, their whole forms slowly being revealed before they stepped out of the water. The two women set down their burdens and looked about, tittering as they looked at Nakaris, whom was naked in the water. Mina spoke softly to them in their own language and then gestured at the elf. The women knew him. He could not hear them. He had been there for some time, the Siren women knew nothing of him except that he causes them no harm. Mina nodded and kissed the two goodbye. The two other women smiled wanly and slipped back into the water, both passing desperatly close to Nakaris without touching him. They would not touch him. No, Mina claimed him Her's.
Mina watched them until they disapeared from sight, then walked over to the elf and her dragon. She touched the elven man on the forehead and inclined her chin slightly. She spoke slowly, so he could understand her. "Greetings, Elf. My People proclaim you a Healer. My Man needs healing. Will you help? I'll offer you gifts.."
Company?
That word was enough to freeze him in his harsh, compulsive cleansing, which was good, because his skin had taken quite an extra beating by then and was even bleeding lightly from a few very shallow scrapes on his arms and belly. He hardly noticed that, though, and wouldn't have cared if he did. Already, he felt a little better, just knowing there was nothing from that dark place still clinging to him. Just a little better in that, at least, he didn't feel...feel...
Owned. Was that the right word? Yeah...the bastard had claimed him as his. Well, fuck that. Any connections were severed, now. He wasn't still attached to him or that place. The only reason now that he would have anything to do with him in the future was because he chose to and he had to. The bastard had his daughter. And he would kill him. Things would be different next time...next time, there would be no restraints, and the fucker would not enjoy any of it.
Nakaris had kept that thought in his mind as he cleaned himself. It was easier to feel angry and bold than to deal with the horror and hurt that threatened to overwhelm him.
It would have also been easier to maintain that emotion without having a reminder so soon.
He instantly knew that Raistlin was not talking about Mina. He spoke to and about her respectfully and familiarly, not in ambiguous terms as he just used. A quick flash of annoyance worked through him briefly at the title Raistlin bestowed on himâ€"'M'Lord?â€"but it was only a momentary thought before everything else truly registered. Shit! He thought no one else came here! Turning quickly toward the shore, he quickly regretted the sharp movement and nearly toppled over when the dizziness returned in a wave of sensation that made his stomach churn. For a moment he clenched his eyes shut against the unnatural movement, waiting for his stomach to settle, then cracked them open.
And paled slightly when he saw a man.
SHIT! He was not ready to deal with another fucking strange man seeing him bloody naked! Raistlin didn't seem too concerned about his presence, but Nakaris didn't care. Goddammit...he didn't mind Mina at bit for obvious reasons, or even Raistlinâ€"he was a dragon, anyway, and somewhat familiarâ€"but another damned man seeing him in the buff so soon after...after...argh, why the hell was it even bothering him?! Any other time in the past and he hadn't cared who saw what. But...then...damn, wasn't a little wariness after everything allowed? And it wasn't like he went around in nothing around everyone anyway before, just that he didn't care. Well, now he did.
It was really tempting to back up into deeper water and conceal his battered body, but he bit the inside of his lip and held his ground. All he really wanted was clothes. He did not</I> like feeling this vulnerable, without even a weapon.
And then came the singing.
Which was followed shortly by three naked women, Mina among them.
Aw man...
Well, needless to say, he forgot all about the other man.
He didn't think any man could honestly say that, if put in the same situation as he, they wouldn't look. And, yeah, it was true, he looked at the other women, but it was more out of passing curiosity rather than lust. And certainly no love. Sirens...or, other sirens, more like; it was easy to forget what Mina was, not that it mattered either way to him, but now as he watched, it was hard not to see what she was. And Nakaris would be a liar to say the women with her weren't beautiful, because they were undeniably so...but it was more the type of beauty you'd experience if you looked at an artist's rendition of a nude woman. The same wasn't true for Mina, for it was she that his eyes stayed on and followed as she moved up to the beach, she who was truly real. He simply wasn't interested in other women...he'd chosen Mina.
And he could watch her forever.
Except...Nakaris soon became very aware of the other women looking over at him and tittering, which kind of destroyed the whole "painting" thing, since paintings neither tittered nor induced blushes. It was nice when they hadn't actively noticed him and he could quietly observe and forget his whole uncomfortable situation, but now that the same was being returned to him, and right in front of Mina...crap...
Just a little</I> awkward.
So, from that point on he made an effort to look everywhere but there. Damn...he hoped one of those bundles was clothes. He was not getting out of the water to walk in front of everyone in a cove that was supposed to be secret! Too bad the water was clear. Ugh.
He continued to hold his ground as the women finally turned to return to the waves and, of course, made a point to get as close to him as possible without actually making contact...and then he breathed in relief when they passed and sank beneath the waves. Damn...if that was some sort of fidelity test, he hoped he passed it.
Fidelity test? Oh jeez, his mind really was veering off into weird places right now.
"I will be happy to help," the elf replied. Thinking that the man was yet another victim of the Siren song, he said, "Where is the shipwreck; are there others in greater mortal danger?" He began glancing about, always looking back at her so that he might understand her reply. He hoped that the others were still alive, if they had survived the shipwreck at all. He mentally sighed--would these Sirens never learn what price men often paid for one or few of them to be admired by the enchanting creatures? Did they not realize how their physician had reached that island in the first place? "I can sense human life," he said. "But only one--what has happened to the others?" He was still looking about for a sign of a ship run against the rocks, and he had started to walk around in search of it, growing anxious with old memories and new fears. How many times would it be his fate to witness the watery or rocky graves of unfortunate sailors?
"Shipwreck?" Mina momentarily looked confused, and then smiled. "No, Elf, no shipwreck. I did not draw this man from the sea, nor am I like the Siren women who know you. Hold..stand here with the dragon."
Without another word, Mina turned and walked down the beach to the bundles, drawing from them a length of cloth. She walked through the water to where Nakaris cleansed, and gave him a wan smile. "I'm sorry I left you. I got some clothing from the Sirenfolk." She showed him the cloth, which indeed were a pair of long breeks that came to the knee. "I've brought food too, and some other supplies we will need to make camp. The Sirens say the elven man is a physician, and do not say he is dangerous. Things should be fine." She handed him the pants and stood in front of him, standing between him and the line of sight of the elf. Damn, sometimes the woman could rjust about read her man's mind! Or was it merely she knew how men thought? She had lived wihin the company of many men during the days of the Dread Army, hadn't she?
As he dressed, Mina merely watched him. It was always hard to look away from that physique. There was no man on this earth she could find more attractive, no man she loved more then this one. This was the man she had a child with, this was the man she would die with..
"I love you, Naka." She said it softly, not really paying attention to the words - but to the feeling behind them. She felt this incredible warmth, a stirring in her belly. How was it she was so lucky? How was it she felt like this - had this?- when the rest of her world was crumbling around her?
She'd lost her daughter, her army, her livelihood, her honor..
But she still had Nakaris by her side. She could still go on.
The ruby that emblazoned her chest glistened in the sunlight, painting scarlet shadows across her breasts, looking all the world like blood. Ah, a reminder of what Palin did to her. And yet, it wasen't the only reminder. Her beautful body was scarred: both from battle in war, and from the battles she fought with her brother and former friend, the battles that took away her honor. Her body was a map of horrors: those she commited against other's, and those friend's commited against her body..
And her daughter's body...
Oh gods, Vai...
But no, no..don't think about that now. No. They would get Vai back, they would. She would be fine. Mina still held the horrible memory of Palin's death to herself....she couldn't tell Nakaris. She couldn't even believe it herself.
It couldn't have happened.
Either he really did wear his emotions on his sleeveâ€"he'd been told before that he did; he never was good at hiding what he feltâ€"or Mina was simply amazingly in tuned to him and all his quirks, just as he liked to think he was in tuned to her. Whatever the case, Mina read him expertly, an amazing feat with his emotions fluctuating wildly, but the meat of it was easy enough to see: he was relieved when she finally came back to him...he hadn't wanted to be alone, not yet, and there had been some repressed anxiety gnawing away at him all the while she was gone.
It was stupid...Mina would be fine, and it was safe here, too. But the stress was still there, coiled up in a tight, controlled knot, throbbing still beneath the surface like a dull ache that wouldn't let up even as he tried to ignore it. Everything was still there, still achingly fresh...but as long as he kept his mind occupied, kept distracted, kept his mind on the here and now and took it a step a a time, he could put off facing those memories just a little longer.
Just a little longer...until the night came and his mind was left unguarded. Or until the next trigger brought it all crashing back down on him. He knew he'd have to confront the reality of what had happened eventually, but he just wasn't ready...confronting an opponent was one thing, but grappling with an enemy that preyed upon his very spirit, where wounds cut deeper than flesh...he just wanted to deny anything had ever happened and leave it at that. Gods, but he didn't think he could even tell Mina about...about everything, about...he'd...he'd held out, hadn't he? He hadn't given anything away had he? Shit, he couldn't remember what he'd said, all he could remember was...no, he had to stop thinking. They'd get Vai back before...before anything happened and end it, and then everything would be fine again. Vai...Gods...and Mina...no! Don't think about it. Just don't think about it.
One step at a time.
Nakaris drew a deep breath and, slowly, offered a tired smile. It was a small one, just the slightest curving of lips, but it was his first in, truly, a long time. Even if it was tinged with loss, it was genuine and...and grateful, grateful on so many levels, and that sense of gratitude, and of fulfillment even in the face of great pain, could only grow.
He watched in amazement as, when he took the offered breeches thankfully and begin to change, she moved without his saying anything to block him from view. He wouldn't have said a word either, for what little remained of his broken pride demanded that he hide his discomfort, that he was acting stupidly, that none of this was a big deal at all and he shouldn't care, especially not when there was worse brewing; what had happened to him shouldn't matter, for he bore no real injuries...he was just being weak...it was nothing...absolutely nothing. But no matter what his pride demanded of him, Mina understood him, and she thought no less of him for it. She understood...and that little gesture seemed to speak volumes to him.
And quite despite himself, he found himself dressing a bit slower than he might have normally. That he was still exhausted and felt ill might be one reason, or that it was just hard to pull cloth over wet skin, but, truly, he didn't mind her watching, and he watched her about as much as she did him. Whereas before he had felt awkward, even nervous and vulnerable in nothing but his skin so soon after everything, with Mina just as bare as he, it was easy to forget. It wasn't quite a sexual feeling, just a feeling of...calm, and warmth, that they were there together, finally after so long, with no boundaries between them. That everything would turn out all right, even now when things seemed so dark that he could no longer see the way, if there even had been a path to follow to begin with. He couldn't quite explain it, but he wouldn't need to.
"I love you, too..." he returned softly, meeting her eyes and bringing one hand tentatively, but gently, to the side of her face. The sight of so many new scars etched into her body and that bloody jewel embedded within her pained him, because he knew all too well what they signified, but he said not a word about them. There would be a time for talk and conquering inner demons later, though, and just as he was far from ready to face his own, he didn't want to tread on sensitive ground with her.
His own body was decorated with scars that were usually hidden beneath his clothes, old cuts and gashes from old fights and wars, and some that were self inflicted. There were no scars from the tortures applied to him, though, for he had been healed between each session. He had no evidence for what he'd endured, but...none of that mattered.
All he wanted now was to just be with her. Scars, pain, and all, there wasn't a woman he loved more, a woman any more beautiful than the one before him now.
Unfortunately he was still very much in pain and weak from blood loss, and they were also not alone. Fortunately, though, the man was a doctor, even though Nakaris couldn't help but feel wary of him...
But, that was just how he was...it was difficult to trust anymore. Though there was at least one person he trusted enough to lay his very life in her hands.
With Mina's back still blocking them from the man's sight, he allowed himself to be bold, to lean forward and press his lips lightly against hers with his fingers still softly brushing her face. It was a gentle kiss, light and chaste but no less affectionate for it, and his lips did linger a little after. Everything was going to be okay...they were together now, and everything was going to turn out fine. They'd get Vai back...they' all be together again...
As long as he had that, he knew he could pull though. They could pull through...
The healer waited patiently for Mina to return with her companion. While he stood there, he smiled warmly at the dragon and said, "My name is Zaren. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?" As an afterthought, he added, "Can you speak with your thoughts, sir? Unfortunately, I am deaf, but I can hear what is communicated by telepathy quite clearly. I do not mean to assume, sir, but many dragons that I have encountered in my day possess this ability, and it would make conversation so much easier." Trying to be as polite as possible, he thought, I will not speak to you in this manner if you wish me not to, sir, and made a half-bow, hoping he would be understood. Perhaps he could get to know this dragon as well as the comrades he carried.
Mina's hand drifted over the one Nakaris had against her cheek. She smiled very softly, softly took his hand from her cheek, and led him up the slight incline of the bank to the beach. She paused again at the bundles, and drew out a simple white gown. The Commander of the forgotten Dread Army drew the sheath of cloth over her head, and allowed it to settled around her. It was form-fitting, to her knees, and had no sleeves. It made her look even more pale, made her hair look even more brilliantly red and black. The ruby in her chest seemed to bleed through the fabric, it did not hide it. Mina was never one to hide her scars, after all.
Raistlin looked at the elf, his nostrils flaring. Then, suprisingly instead of being his usual snide self, he switched to telepathy. +Aye, elf. I can speak many ways. They call me Raistlin. M'lady is Mina, Commander of the Dread Army, the Lady Dread, Archmagus of the Sirenkind. M'lord is Nakaris, Sub-Commander of the Dread Army.+
The Sireness took Naka's hand, and led him toward the two who stood on the bank. She smiled as she approached, acting the part of an experienced diplomat. She would not threaten this man, no, this was not the sort of place where the sword ruled..
Nakaris tried not to lean too heavily on Mina and to walk firmly on his own, but as they left the support of the water, his muscles, in turn, decided to turn to water. He wobbled, his head reeling, but he tensed his muscles and clenched his jaw against that familiar wave of nausea. He was still horribly out of it, blood-loss and thirst wreaking hell on his body and its dwindling limits; if he hadn't managed to get in a few hours of sleep earlier, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have otherwise passed out right here and now. As it was, the way the world danced made him a bit uncertain as to whether that had changed too much...thank Gods he was as stubborn as a mule, otherwise his body would have given out a long time ago.
Though...in some cases, he still wasn't so sure how good of a thing that trait was. And he couldn't remember enoughâ€"didn't want to remember enoughâ€"to know if that trait had helped at all during those long hours of...of...what had happened.
For a few moments, he'd been able to get his mind off of things a bit, with Mina before him. Now it was back to reality as they turned back toward the shore.
Finally clothed, even if only partially, even if it did little to hide the shameful wounds, he felt a little better for it, less vulnerable, less degraded, and less wary of the other man. He still watched his blurred shape warily, though, his guard still raised, and...and...
The world tilted oddly for a second, and the next thing he knew, he felt warm sand against his back and saw a great expanse of blue before his eyes. Nakaris blinked tiredly, and it took him a few seconds to realize he'd toppled over, not yet strong enough to support himself for very long. After all, the most he'd been able to do had been to climb up, aided and awkward, onto Raistlin and to stand with the aid of the water's bouyancy. Walking...he was far too screwed up to be up to par for that, yet, though he'd tried. The sand stung the scrapes he'd created on his skin, and he was vaguely aware of it, but he made no effort to move. As uncomfortable as it was, laying down felt oddly good and...stabilizing.
THUMP! Mina's head swiveled around to look at the air next to her. Wait - Nakaris was supposed to be there. Her eyes cast downward and looked down at him. She knelt in the sand, the grains rubbing against her knees. She rested a hand on his chest, "The healer is coming." She turned her head toward the physician and beckoned. Nakaris needed healed, and he needed it now..
Zaren hurried over to the injured man and knelt down beside him, laying down his staff and examining him quickly to ascertain his injuries. "Please, try to hold as still as possible, my lord Nakaris," he said, pronouncing the name correctly even though he had never heard anyone say it (out loud). His hand hovered over the places on the man's body where the skin was broken, sensing mentally if there were any coming infection; then he took the satchel from his shoulder and set it on the sand beside him, opening it up and taking out a jar of what turned out to be quite a foul-smelling ointment. "I do apologize, my lord, for the smell, but it is the best I have found to prevent infection in a wound." He applied the ointment to Nakaris' wrists and to the scrapes and broken skin on his upper body, leaving what remained for Nakaris to apply to himself later when he undressed again.
As for the bruises and blood loss, that would take a bit more work. Again he placed his hands hovering over Nakaris, willing the painful bruises to heal more quickly, concentrating with all his mind. He had learned to act quickly in such situations, for the shipwreck victims he had attended in his day had needed emergency attention, if they had survived at all. But even he had his limits, and this man had lost quite a considerable amount of blood. Only time could ultimately restore what he had lost, time and rest.
The bruises, every last one of them, disappeared beneath his hand, and as for the lost blood, it began to increase by the second, to the point where there was much less likelihood of fainting by any means other than dehydration--and for that, a most common symptom he had encountered in many patients, he could take care of if the man were taken back to his home, where there was a decent bed on which he might rest while Zaren gathered the fruits which would help restore the lost fluid and keep Nakaris from fainting. He closed the jars and put them back into his satchel, and that back in place across his shoulder, he took up his staff and promptly nearly fainted himself. Perhaps that took a bit more out of me than I thought it would, he thought to Raistlin. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself together, and then looked at Raistlin. I think there will be room enough for you to come almost to the door of where I live, sir. Would you carry him and follow me there? I have fruits growing in a garden that will help restore his lost fluids. He waited for an answer, trying to contain the absolute joy he felt at finally being able to communicate with someone else again, to understand clearly what was relayed.
Raistlin tilted his head as he was addressed, and replied back in kind: [Mina finds you safe, I find the idea satisfactory, I will do it]. The big dragon looked to Mina and spoke aloud what Zaren said -merely for benefit of Nakaris then anything else- and she tilted her chin slightly in response. She strokes Nakaris' hair, ignoring the other two completly. Her man was all she cared about. Raist lumbered forward and knelt so that Mina could lift Nakaris over his shoulders, which she did only after placing a soft kiss on his forehead.
(meh,. crappy post..)
Nakaris stared up at the hazy form of the healer blearily, and grimaced slightly. "Notta lord..." he muttered, his words slurring together in his exhaustion and his mind skipping over the fact that he had no idea how this man knew his name. Lord...where did that come from? Why did people keep calling him that? He didn't want to be called a lord...he hated the title. When he was young and naive, growing up in his little village with no real knowledge of the world, he'd always admired the stories about royalty, even envied the nobles. All that had faded, hadn't it? Heh...in the course of only four years now, he'd somehow managed to get himself involved in two seiges, and the second time wound up in a torture chamber for it. His fault, his rational side told him. All his fault...
But it made him hate the nobles no less. The bastards were no better than he was...and that they'd hired that bald psycho for a dungeon-keeper...that made them even worse...far worse...
He laid there calmly, his body rebelling against his mind and refusing to move, and closed his eyes against the sun as the man examined his wounds. And part of it was, well, he didn't want to see the man so bloody close to him, hovering over him like...no, not thinking about that right now.
His mind and body recoiled when the man started smoothing the ointment onto his upper body, a quick jolt of panic surging through him, but either because he knew the man was helping or he ws just to tired to do otherwise, he stayed relatively still, save for some tensing. And besides, Mina was right there. It was safe, and the ointment did feel good, soothing against the broken and bruised parts of his skin. So, he just kept his eyes closed and breathed slowly through his nose, trying to ease his frayed nerves.
Somewhere during it all, he gradually came to realize that some of the light-headedness and nausea had faded, and that his body had become less and less sore, until the only parts that still ached were the few remainin areas where his skin had been split, as on his wrists and face. He cracked open an eye and Mina was the first thing he saw, though he knew she'd been there the whole whileâ€"he could feel herâ€"and her face was drastically less blurred and hazy. His vision wasn't completely lucid yet, but it was an improvement, and he no longer felt like he'd sick up if he moved too quickly in one direction.
That was...odd. Hadn't the man just applied an ointment...? How did...?
Well, it still didn't fix his exhaustion and dehydration, but that was something only time and rest could cure. As it was, it was enough, and he was thankful for the reprieve, even if he was too tired to show it.
He closed his eyes again as Raistlin spoke, but had no time or strength to voice his consent, not that that mattered as he was soon helped onto the great dragon, but only after offering Mina a weak, somewhat embarrassed smile. Despite it all, this whole situation was rather embarrassing...he wasn't used to being taken care of like this.
But, then, he also wasn't used to getting himself into a predicament that he couldn't get out of, of being completely vulnerable like that. And like now, even.
Zaren leaned on his staff quite heavily as he led the way to his dwelling, gradually easing off until he was walking as steadily as before. Eventually he came to the base of a cliff, where the caves formed a natural set of rooms that the elf had made into a comfortable home without disturbing the natural lay of the land. Not far from there, where the foliage began and the beach ended, he had planted a garden, part of which was covered in the fruits he had spoken of, which grew over several trellises he had skillfully constructed. He stopped and opened the front door, which was hinged into the rock facing. Then he went to help Mina bring Nakaris into the house. "My bed is just through this first room. I am sorry that there is not room enough for all of us," he said mostly to Raistlin. "But perhaps I may bring something for you to eat, sir. Is there anything that you like in particular?"
Mina walked with Zaren, the great dragon lumbering behind her with Nakaris. She had her own staff resting upon her shoulder, the amber bauble on the end glinting in the tropical light as she walked. The white gown looked somewhat odd on her, for anything looked odd on her that was not battle regalia. Her wet hair clung to her neck and forehead, a few dry pieces sticking up at awkward angles on the crown of her head. Her amber hourglass eyes drifted about the garden as they walked through it, but she did not comment. She was being quite quiet, despite the elf's chatter as he opened up the house for their entry. The woman helped Nakaris down and rested a slender hand under his elbow to aid him, but she said nothing to him - or even look at him. Her brow furrowed suddenly: something didn't feel right. No. Her head turned-
FWAP!
Something quite solid slammed into her and knocked her to the ground. Shit! A spell rose to her lips and she snarled the worlds at whatever was struggling on top of her. She didn't think about what it was doing. Who it was. All she wanted was it off of her. She did NOT like people to touch her! The spell poured from her mouth like honey and the figure upon her let out a yowling snarl- screaming something as his hand encircled her throat, shaking her. She caught one word out of ten: Vai.
Vai? Wait - Vai?!
The weight on her back suddenly dissipated, and she found herself on the ground. Alone. Her face was covered in sand, and it chafed her skin uncomftarbly. She slowly began to rise, her amber eyes flashing around for whoever or whatever had jumped her.
She didn't have to look far.
Standing some twenty feet from her was a badly disfigured elven man, currently trying to extinguish the fire that threatened to engulf his robes. Well, at least her spell had worked. The creature continued to babble as he pummeled the hem of his robes with his left hand. His right hand wasen't a right hand at all: but a bunch of razors. Razor fingers. The thing had a weapon for a limb.
Mina waved a hand and the flames died, "Who are you?" she snarled, snapping her fingers and producing a bout of flame in her palm. Apparently the little shit wasen't a fan of fire. And who could blame him? He looked like his skin had been incinerated.
The creature stopped flailing about and stood stock still, giving the group the uncanny deer in the headlights look. "I was told...'go' he said.,.'find them' he said.." He looked uncomftarbly at his robes, as if they would light up again.
"Who?" Mina snapped, taking on her usual commander tone.
"Dunno..he said, 'bring them.'"
"Bring us where?"
Riever (for that was whom he was, though not to anyone present) chewed on his bottom lip. "To her, to the angel girl."
Something sitrred up Mina's spine - an emotion she wasen't too keen to explore. "Explain," she snapped.
"He said-."
"I don't care what he said, who the hell are you supposed to take us to?'
"Angel...she's such an angel. I love her."
There was that eerie stirring feeling again; she didn't like it. "What's her name?"
"Vai, she told me once her name was Vai."
"Gods," Mina breathed, "Where is she?"
"Trees. Lotsa trees. A big house. There's a man there." Unbenowst to them, he was not describing Darlig.
"Is Vai...is she alive? Is she hurt?"
"I dinna see her, he wouldn't let me see her."
Mina grabbed Nakaris' arm tightly in her's. "She's alive. She's alive.." She sounded relieved. Oh, she'd doubted it! She doubted the little girl could keep herself alive..but she had. Oh Gods..
Although he could hear nothing of what was going on, Zaren reacted quickly to what he saw and came immediately to Nakaris to support him so that he would not fall. It all happened so quickly that he did not have the chance to do much else. When he saw the other elven man become visible, he looked about, trying in vain to see what was being said, but they did not enunciate enough, and he couldn't see their faces well the whole time. What is happening? he asked Raistlin, taking a firmer grip on his staff. I do not understand. If the stranger did not intend to harm them anymore, then he needed looking after as well.
It all happened so quickly.
One second, he was being helped down off the great dragon, body protesting as it begged for rest. The next, and the elven man was gripping him to keep him from toppling over as something set upon Mina.
For a few long moments, everything fell to chaos.
Mina and the creature were on the ground grappling and snarling at one another, and Nakaris could hear the curses running through his mind that he was too drained to vocalize. His vision was still somewhat blurry, but he could make out the figures well enough, make out the glint of sunlight reflecting off sharp metallic points. Knives. Fuck! He lurched instinctively against Zaren's hold, but it was a weak and futile struggle, one his body wasn't yet ready to endure, and one that ended before it had hardly begun. He had no weapons and his body was taxed beyond its limits; even that small attempt left him breathless and dizzy, his heart working harder than it should under the strain. Despite himself, he slumped back against Zaren as though his body had a will of its own...a fact which only continued to mortify him.
Yet his own brief attempt at action wasn't the only thing that ended before it began. Seconds later and the attacker was off of Mina beating frantically at his clothes, which a fire was eating at. And when the fire died down, the strange, deformed creature that had jumped Mina made no further attempt to continue the attack. If anything, he looked skittish and uncomfortable, and his speech, when questioned, reflected the emotion.
The conversation that Mina initiated seemed to come to Nakaris through a haze. Or, at least, he heard the words but they made absolutely no sense to him. Someone was looking for them...? "He"? "Angel girl"...?
Nakaris could feel something in his gut tighten sickeningly, but that could have easily been the result of stress and fatigue, and he waved the feeling away and let it pass for that. This man was just crazy...that was all. He looked like he'd been burned up, he had blades where a hand should be, he'd randomly jumped Mina...he was just speaking jibberish. Jargon. Crazy talk. No reason to get--
And then the man said it: Vai.
He tightened his grip involuntarily on Zaren to help steady himself, his already weak legs wanting to give out completely with relief. Vai. Gods...he knew where Vai was. This man knew where Vai was...he said he hadn't seen her, but...but the man...he said a man had sent him...
There was only one man Nakaris could think of that would have been around Vai now...
Mina's hand gripped his arm, but he hardly felt the pressure of her fingertips. He hardly felt anything at all just then save an odd mixture of deepest relief and impending dread. She was alive...his little girl...their perfect little daughter...she was alive...
He didn't even realize it but he was shaking, muscles taut and quivering. "We hafta get 'er..." he said quietly, voice weary yet oddly firm. "We hafta get 'er now..."
She was alive...
And Gods, but she had better be unharmed...if anything had happened to her...anything at all...Darlig would be sorry for the crimes his earliest ancestors had committed.
Zaren's countenance appeared even more concerned, anxiety clear upon his face, threatening to outrun the deliberate correctness with which he pronounced every word. How badly was this elf injured? He was still standing--was it from the shock, his body not realizing how badly it had been burned, or was it because he was a different type of creature? He looked as though his hand were made of razors. Was this really part of himself or a skillfully made weapon--or was it a prosthesis? If that were so, who would have made such a false hand?
The fire looked as though it had burned deep, doing serious damage to the point of endangering the elf's life. Could his skin really be that thick, that resistant? Zaren couldn't just let go of Nakaris, but if this man needed help, then he had to do something; he could not allow a living creature to suffer when it was in his power to help. "I must help him," he managed to say coherently, trying to show in his expression that he wanted Mina to help support Nakaris or lower the man to the ground while he went to see to the injured elven stranger. He didn't try to communicate with her by thought; he only knew about Raistlin's ability in telepathy. "What is happening?" he asked aloud. "Please, tell me; I will help how I can." He wished he knew if he should help--but this was a suffering person; he had to do what he was able, and he knew that for the moment Nakaris was not in danger of death but only dehydrated.
Mina's slender arm encircled Nakaris' waist, ignoring Zaren, eyes only for the seemingly psychotic individual before her. "I need you to tell me who sent you," she said as calmly and as slowly as she could, although she could feel the bile rise in her throat in some delayed panic reaction at the idea that Darlig might have his filthy hands upon her daughter.
"The man, he said...'Get them.'" Riever mumbled, his eyes wearily on Zaren who was proceeding toward him. "No, no, no, no....go away. GO AWAY! GO AWAAAY!" A vicious snarl escaped his throat and the razorblades bristled. "Dinna touch me you!!!"
Raistlin sensed the danger in this and sent a sharp telepathic message to Zaren: **touch him not, he's dangerous. He does not seem to be in pain**
Mina's slender arm encircled Nakaris' waist, ignoring Zaren, eyes only for the seemingly psychotic individual before her. "I need you to tell me who sent you," she said as calmly and as slowly as she could, although she could feel the bile rise in her throat in some delayed panic reaction at the idea that Darlig might have his filthy hands upon her daughter.
"The man, he said...'Get them.'" Riever mumbled, his eyes wearily on Zaren who was proceeding toward him. "No, no, no, no....go away. GO AWAY! GO AWAAAY!" A vicious snarl escaped his throat and the razorblades bristled. "Dinna touch me you!!!"
Raistlin sensed the danger in this and sent a sharp telepathic message to Zaren: **touch him not, he's dangerous. He does not seem to be in pain**
Zaren stopped abruptly, his green eyes turning to Raistlin. **Who is this creature?** he replied. **In any case, at this time I must take you at your word. But I must tell you, the magic that I can use readily at any given moment is mostly in the realm of healing.** Zaren backed away from the stranger, trying to visually follow the conversation and perhaps find out what was going on. **Is it safe to take Nakaris into my house as long as we go around Mina and this stranger, or do you think we will risk being attacked?**
Raistlin thought fast, his lantern-like eyes darting from Mina to Nakaris to Riever to Zaren and back through, as if contemplating something. He prodded Mina's cerebrum with a thought: **Should Zaren take m'lord inside?"
**No** The response was rapid-fire, scathing. Mina's arm tightened around Nakaris' waist, knowing very well that despite his physical strain he would not relent to being inside while she was outside and their daughter was being discussed.
"Angel, angel...pretty angel," Riever mumbled to himself, examining his razor hand as if fascinated by it. He suddenly looked up. "Come. To her...."
An enormous gray dog-like animal with bull’s horns, a forest of strange protrusions running down it’s neck and snout, a thick leather hide and long, powerful legs thrust itself out of the water, having finally reached the shore after 30 minutes straight of swimming in the cold, salty ocean, visibly exhausted â€" it was trembling, breathing fast and heavy and had collapsed on the shore in a panting mound of flesh. Its species didn’t handle cold very well. The salt didn’t exactly help the cuts on its chest and the burns on the side of its face, either. In the long run, though, it didn’t seem to care. It had a full belly, and that makes everything all better.
After Maraelyc had rested for a few minutes, she was beginning to come back to her senses â€" her vision was getting clearer, she was beginning to recognize the sounds of birds and insects chirping and she could finally feel the blood pumping to her brain again. She still had no recollection of the past 24 hours, but then, she never even thought about it. It wasn’t long before she noticed that something awfully interesting was going on nearby. She could hear yelling from further into the island and the sensors on her head were telling her that a small group of animals was squabbling nearby, but she wasn’t close enough to be able to decipher exactly what kind of animals they were. Nonetheless, Maraelyc’s curiosity gets the better of her â€" as it always does â€" and she decides she needs to “investigateâ€?.
The animal slams one of her front feet onto the ground and hauls herself back onto her feet. Her chest ached, but that had nothing to do with her current objective, so she all but ignored the pain. She took a good look at her surroundings â€" she was at the border between a thick forest and the sandy beach, and in front of her were several odd wooden constructs with fruit she had never seen before growing on them. It looked awfully out of place in such an untamed wilderness, but she quickly lost interest, turned around and leisurely strolled in the direction of the yelling. A bunch of sticks piled up in a specific order was nothing new. Compared to some of the other things she had seen, sticks are rather tame.
Eventually, Maraelyc reached the base of a cliff. She was very, very close to the group by now, and she was even beginning to recognize some of the words being spoken. As she made one last turn around a spike of structure on the cliff’s walls, she realized that she was no less than roughly 23 feet from her objective. She recognized a wounded man, another humanoid she had just enough experience to decipher was female and two men in robes, but she was incapable of recognizing the cold-blooded dragon as a living thing without getting within 6 feet of it. She stopped in her tracks, but all her attention was focused on the robed one who seemed to be fascinated with his own hand. She wasn’t sure what, but she found something about that one to be extremely amusing, like the asylum patient that thinks he's invisible and that the only person who can see him is god. Maraelyc would’ve cracked a chuckle if she was physically capable of doing so.
She then turned to the wounded man that was being supported and protected by the others, having had her fill of input from the one that was in love with his hand. There was something eerily familiar about him that she couldn't quite put her finger on. He looked weak and wounded, and seemingly not only in the physical sense. All she knew for sure was that he was hurting real bad. Luckily, she wasn't hungry, her older, meaner sibling wasn't awake and the wounded one had friends, so she had no reason to express hostility. Instead, she expressed mere curiosity; the kind found in the neighbors when Mary and Bob are screaming at each other so loudly that everything within half a mile knows they need marital counseling. By now, Maraelyc had forgotten about all the others, and advanced more to his front and slightly closer to get a better look at him and recognized even more wounds. What in the bloody hell happened to him?
Well… I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?
Nakaris could feel the frustration building with every passing second. "The man said get them, the man said get them." Was that all he could say?! He didn't even care who had sent the elf. It was probably Darlig--who else could it have been? He was the fucker that had kidnapped their little girl!--but he didn't care. He just wanted to get Vai back, and he couldn't help but think that every moment they stood here questioning the elf was another minute Vai was left alone with...with...
He swallowed hard against the sudden anger and nausea that swelled in his throat. Gods, please let her be untouched...all he could do now was pray that she was unhurt, and praying had never suited him. He'd long since given up on that; any deity that could allow the things that he'd seen and done was a fucked-up God that he had no desire to believe in and had since stopped believing in. Where had the bastards been when Mina was being raped and tortured? When he and his companions were tortured and molested? When Vai, a bloody innocent child, had to watch and endure the same fate as her mother, and had been kidnapped for a second time to go right back into a similar environment? If they existed, they were probably watching and getting off on it, too. Fuck that. If anything, he only said "Gods" out of habit.
He could feel Mina's arm tightening around his waist, and he forced himself to take calming breaths through his nose, small puffs of air. For all that he wanted to just yell at the creature and demand answers, his rationale told him that would do no good. Instead, he just focused on breathing. Mina was the icily calm one right now. She was the best person to handle this. She could distance herself in a way that he'd never been capable of, and that suited the situation best.
Still, Nakaris could feel himself tensing up as the man started murmuring about the "pretty" angel girl, his blue eyes narrowing. There it was. That word. He could practically hear the warning bells sounding, and he could feel a hot stinging in his throat that he swallowed back. Gooseflesh prickled along his flesh. He didn't like this man...he didn't like him at all...he didn't know him, but already he hated him...
Yet all he said to Mina was a hoarse, "We hafta go..."
He didn't even care that he distrusted the man.
He knew where Vai was.
Nothing else mattered. They had to get her, and deal with everything else later. He didn't even care if this was a trap. Hell, what more did either he or Mina have left to lose at this point?
Nakaris knew he didn't have much. His wounds would heal, and he would lose his clarity. J'aari would claim him again, and he'd be lost again. The most lucidity he ever had while under its control was around Mina or Vai...then he was as much like his true self as he could be under the magic's influence. But he still wasn't his own. Though...who he was? Hell. Even now, free of its influence, he wasn't so sure as to who he even was anymore. The lines had become so blurred...he just didn't know. And yet, he didn't really care too much anymore. It was useless to care. Why care about something you couldn't control or change? It terrified him, the loss of control...but fearing wasn't the same as caring.
He had nothing to lose. Except Vai or Mina. That was what he cared about.
"It don' matter who sent 'im...we hafta get 'er..."
Of course, he was doing an awful lot of lying. He did care, and about all the things he tried to fool himself into thinking he didn't care about. But sometimes, it was easier to pretend. It could lessen the blow.
Some motion out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention then, and he turned his head a little to look at whatever it was...and blinked dully at the...thing...that wasn't too far away from them. Through slightly blurred vision he could decipher a creature that looked like a strange cross between a dog, a bull, and a pincushion.
He blinked again. Ugh...well, that was random. Probably a hallucination, for all his luck.
Zaren's eyes had widened somewhat, his brows raising a bit, when he saw the newcomer. He had never seen such a creature before, but on the other hand he was not all that surprised to see a strange creature appear out of nowhere. Seeing strange creatures was rather commonplace among merfolk and Sirens, which I suppose makes them not strange creatures anymore if one tends to see the like all the time.
In any case, his mind had nearly become slightly taxed with all of the signals it was receiving of people being in need of a physician's help, as one might be if one could hear thoughts without one's own consent. At least Zaren did not have that trouble. At least there had to be intentional communication on his or on a speaker's part for him to hear a person's thoughts. Well, he would have to take matters into his own hands if he were going to help anyone in this standstill. Avoiding getting too close to Mina's attacker, he made his way carefully and quickly into his house, gathering the supplies he would need that he didn't already have enough of with him. He also got a knife which he used to get some of the fruit he had spoken of before. He stepped back outside after a few moments, his satchel more full than before. Standing on his doorstep, he glanced over the current situation, seeing whether it would be wise to make his way back to where he had been standing before at Raistlin's side. He kept the knife on his person, just in case, and his staff as well.
Riever shoved his hand into the folds of his robe, and stood there with the blankest look on his face - as if a cleric recieving introspection. His maddening eyes focused on Nakaris's face, searching him...searching for..something. He sense the hatred that eminated from the man toward him - he sensed it like he sensed all fear, since hatred and fear were parallels. He knew he must appear socipathic to that man, he knew it, and he was...he just wasen't as cracked as it would seem. His mind had become more pretty than the outside world had, because his mind was all he had...could ever have. Except for her: he loved her. She was beaiutiful to him. And now, he had to show them that he wasen't a bad person, that all he wanted was his angel-girl saved.
"Nakaris," there..he'd spoken the man's name. Names were powerful things. Names predicted familiarity. Names made a person feel safe. "Go. Forest. House.. Save pretty girl." Was that how it went? It wasen't that often when he spoke to anyone. Only himself. He'd forgotten words, but he hoped he would be understood. He needed to be understood. Vai needed him to be understood. The elven man turned as if to go, and looked back, "Magic. Watch. Magic. Strong." He inclined his chin very slightly in some sort of salute, and the next minute was gone. It was if the sun had shifted, bathed the man in a brief moment of shade, and then he wasen't there anymore.
Mina was on the ball the second the crazed man had left. Her body flung itself into motion so fast that one would think the world had stopped turning save for her. She completly ignored the new creature, already her body and mind keen on the magik needed to concoct a portal to the desired destination. She spoke quickly as she worked, "Nakaris. You need to stay here..I'll go get her." She said it firmly, not in the mood to get any answer different.
She didn't even think about him refusing that, though in her heart she knew he would. She didn't care. The archmage was determined not to see another she loved get hurt. Magikal words sprang to her lips, and she waved her left hand. There: a shine the air! Her dress fluttered around her legs as she hiked up her skirt to pull off a knife that was attached to her thigh. In one swift motion she knicked her finger, kissed the cut and the knife, and waved her hand in the air a second time so that the mere shiver in the air became substance and turned into a silver-green vortex.
"Raistlin. Come." she ordered, returning to her command mode. "Zaren, take care of Naka." She cut off the tail of her dress so that it ended at her upper thigh and made movement easier. No time to change into battle regalia. No time. She didn't have time for anything..
Nakaris gave a visible start as his name was spoken, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at the man--though not in suspicion or loathing, but as though he was scrutinizing the man for any signs of familiarity. But he didn't recognize him. He'd never seen him before in his life. Or, if he had, it had been before he had been mutilated; he would certainly remember a face as distinctive as his.
How did...how did he know his name? Well...if he had been sent by fuckface, he would have learned it that way. But, then again, he was still trying to figure out how the hell the sick bastard had even learned his name to begin with. Nakaris had never told him, and he had never asked, nor would he have told him his name had he asked. Not that the man had even been interested in interrogation to begin with, the bastard. And, hell, Nakaris didn't even know why he was so angry that he hadn't even been interrogated...that was kind of an odd thing to be pissed about. He supposed it was...well...just because if he had been questioned and hadn't answered, then at least there would have been a reason for his treatment. He wouldn't have answered the questions. Not for as long as he could stand it. He would have suffered anyway, and he knew it. But...at least there would have been a reason for it, then...instead of it being so blatant...instead of the bastard getting off on it...there would have been a reason for it...
But, then...there had been a reason for it...he'd killed...he'd lead a bloody seige...it was J'aari's doing, truly, but he'd done it...the blood was still on his hands, along with all the other blood coating his spirit...
Yeah...he knew he had some pretty screwed up reasoning there...
In any case, he could feel his metaphorical hackles raise, not necessarilly because of this man anymore, but because of the idea of who had sent him. He didn't like his choice of words, either, but then again, the man couldn't have known. He hoped he didn't know. That was just not something he wanted other people to know about...but it wasn't important. He ate up the man's words eagerly. No time to be picky. Vai was at stake.
Forest...house...which forest and which house? He chewed the inside of his cheek to keep silent and listen. Strong magic. He knew that. He'd seen what the bastard had been capable of, summoning a bloody demon.
But, then again...Nakaris had a little bit of demon in him, too. He'd always heard from his village that J'aari, the magic that possessed him, was the handywork of a demon. Some had even wagered that it was a demon, though he didn't know or care which tale was the truth. All that mattered to him was what it did. Despite himself, for the first time in what felt like ages, he felt a tired smirk tug at his lips, just slightly.
Let the fucking magic possess him again.
He just didn't care anymore. And if he could get it to work, if he let it take him over again--well, whether he wanted it to or not, it would claim him again, so why even try to fight it anymore? He was tired of fighting, tired of struggling against something he could do nothing about--then he could for sure kill the bastard. He would kill the bastard, and get Vai back. He'd make that bastard suffer...J'aari could not kill--his hands and weapons had to do the work--but it could torture.
Even as he thought it, he knew his thoughts were off. He shouldn't be thinking that. And he couldn't even tell if those were truly his thoughts or not.
He opened his mouth as the man finished, ready to ask for more specific details, but then the man was gone.
Just like that.
And in that same moment, Mina sprung into action, and he grunted softly as he dropped into a crouch on the sand when she released her hold on him, still shaky and jelly-limbed.
And then went into Commander mode, ordering him to stay.
He watched her through swaying vision as she whipped a portal into existence, and a soft string of words that sounded unmistakingly like his favorite expletives left his lips. As if she honestly thought he would!
Yes. He could hardly even support himself, hardly even see straight, he was still cut up and bruised all over, and scared as hell to be reaquainted with his tormenter, and yet he was determined to go with her and face the very man that had done this to him to begin with. Not really smart. He knew it wasn't.
Yet as the vortex swirled into existence, and as Mina and Raistlin went through it (I assume? ^^;; ), he cursed again and used his last bit of hidden strength to push himself up off the ground and through that damned portal.
He was not letting Mina do this alone.
If they were getting Vai back, they were doing it together.
And he did not want her to be alone with that man.
Whoever these people were, they seemed very agitated about something. The one with the blades on his hand seemed to be an intruder. But that can't be true, because they aren't attacking him. He even seemed to be threatening them awhile back, but they're still holding fire. Maraelyc tried desperately to make some sense of the situation they seem to be in, but all that accomplished was making her head hurt. Her scrambled mess of a brain wasn't very good at solving problems. And then she heard a name---
"Nakaris".
Maraelyc was too lost in thought to pay any attention to precisely who's name that was or who spoke it, but there was something about the name... she was sure that she had heard that name somewhere before. She had no idea where, but she'd heard it. Nakaris... was that the name of the guy in the pith helmet who used to lure children towards him with candy and then start rambling about mummies and boats while the kids were too preoccupied with their sugary treats to wander off? No, his name was Corky. God knows how she had mixed those two up. Or was that the name of the captain who tried to o--- no, no, that wasn't right either. Maraelyc simply could not remember where she had heard that name before.
"Nakaris".
There it was again. This time she was just conscious enough to decipher that it was the lady in the white dress that had uttered the name, but not quite conscious enough to notice that the one with the ‘clawed’ hand had disappeared into thin air. As far as Maraelyc could tell from where the lady was looking when Maraelyc heard the name, she was referring to the one with the cuts and bruises that she was looking at earlier. Nakaris, eh? Maraelyc still didn't remember exactly who that man was or where she had heard the name, but now she knew the person's name, so odds are that she'll find out if she sticks around long enough, and Maraelyc fully intended to do so.
The words that followed the name intrigued her just as much, if not more so. Go get who? Did this have anything to do with the “pretty angel� the amusing robed one mentioned earlier? What was going on? Where was that woman going? Why did Nakaris have to stay? Do insects have eyelids? The questions just kept coming and coming, but no answers were in sight. But Maraelyc was taught that patience is always rewarded, and the growing masses of questions only sparked her curiosity even more, further inclining her to follow this bunch for a while.
And then, something happened. A vortex appeared out of nowhere and the woman in the white not-really-a-dress-anymore passed through it, followed by… something she didn’t even know was here (Like Rhi, I’m just assuming, so don’t shoot me XD), followed by the man she assumed was named Nakaris.
Just as Nakaris was about to completely disappear into the vortex, Maraelyc leapt into it with such speed and force that she tore a new wound in her chest. She wasn’t sure why she did it before she even knew whether the portal would kill her or not, but something in the back of her head told her that if she didn’t do what she did soon enough, she was going to miss everything, and that’s more than enough of a reason for Maraelyc to do something stupid.
[gonna make a new post in the forest...go there...]
[aka. jungle. me = dumbass XD ]