"As you wish," Maar replied.
She carefully climbed onto the saddle behind Tir. She wrinkled her nose, being so uncomfortably close to Tir's sword.
"You need a healer," the fae said in a quiet voice. She could feel Tiraris' magic struggling, and the woman didn't have much time left to live. Though She would not admit to it, Maar was filled with the strong desire to save her companion and student. Maar dug her heels into the saddle.
"I know these woods," she said in her sing song voice. "The village isn't too far away."
Her voice deepend as the guise transformed into a wiry and shaved man with flowing blue hair that reached his broad, suntanned shoulders. His face was similiar to Awari's true face, except that his features were more angular and his jaw stronger. He donned light leather armor and simple breeches and a tunic, though all of Maar's weapons and pouches remained visible. The fae pulled out a skin full of water and pulled out the top with their teeth.
"Drink," she ordered, holding it up to Tiraris' teeth.
Maar gritted her teeth, her wounds stinging. She didn't know how long she had been riding, but her head started to spin. She gripped onto Tiraris tighter, pressing a hand to an open wound, letting the blood stain her gloves. She announced every mile to her companion until finally after what seemed an hour or two- Maar couldn't tell, she hadn't been paying attention to the sun- they arrived upon the gates of a village. The door laid on the other side of a bridge. They were greeted by two men with spears and shields. On the other side of the bridge stood three bored teenage boys, though the wounded woman on the horse quickly regained their interest. They gawked at the odd and bloodied couple.
The guards held up their spears at Maar with suspicion.
"Who are you," one asked. "What happened to her?"
Maar could have rolled her eyes. They had little time for interviews. Instead, the fae summoned tears to their eyes.
"Please, you must let us into the village," she pleaded in a man's voice, her tone urgent. "We were attacked. We lost a horse. Can't you see she is in dire need of aid? Where might I find a healer?"
The guards took another look at their tattered clothes and wounds, grimancing.
"Dangerous parts, these are," one muttered, waving for the boys to open the gates.
"Please," Maar choked. "Don't let her expire."
At the guards hesitation, Maar summoned tears to her eyes.
"Please," the fae choked. "Don't let her expire."
The guards exchanged glances before ordering their companions and squires to open the guards.
Maar broke out into a grateful grin, clutching the tattered reigns.
"There's a hospital connected to the temple," one said.
Maar didn't thank them. Instead, she nodded at the guards with the air of gratitude with a hopeful grin as she rode through the streets of the village. Finding the temple wasn't hard- it was a series of tall and airy buildings , built with white brick. Maar rode to the front steps of the hospital, with fresh faced novices in clean robes and tunics walking to and forth. One screamed at the sight of the riders. Someone shouted a name- Maar wasn't quite paying attention, their head spinning. Two strong and tall lads came, holding out their arms to help lower Tiraris off of the horse.
"Careful, she's dangerous," Maar said in half jest as she slipped out of the saddle and stumbled onto cobblestone.