Completed A Girl and the Sea

[Rumer]

Her chest tightened and her heart hammered against her ribs, her tired legs struggling to push her back to the sun-speckled surface and when she could no longer hold her breath, the cold saline rushed in.

She felt arms grip hold of her, and she coughed out lungfuls of water and gulped in the sea air, her arms wrapping around Nathaira to grip onto her for dear life. Each breath was a gasp, as though frightened the air might be deprived from her again.. "I'm sorry." she coughed, and shook "I tried. I tried to catch a fish.." she told her, omitting the part about her mind playing cruel tricks on her.

"I can try again, I'll get it right.." she fretted, but her grip on the woman wasn't one that said she was ready to let go. Still she doubted the woman would be happy with her failure, and she did want to learn. She never wanted to feel what drowning felt like again.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira knew this was not the time to laugh. Rumer had just suffered what was surely a very frightening ordeal, and she was clearly afraid that she would be punished for her failure.

But... she had tried to catch a fish? It was so unexpected, and so innocent and naive a reply that the literal cold-blooded assassin could not stop herself. It started as a sputter, air bursting from lips that were trying desperately but failing to contain it. It broke free into an honest guffaw, and an almost lyrical cackle.

Nathaira did her best to compose herself. "Oh, dear, it's alright." She stroked the girl's wet hair. "You did very well for your first time, but we must start heading home." She carried the girl to the shallows before setting her down on her feet once more.

Splashing out of the water, she reached her clothes and dabbed at herself again before throwing the loose wrappings over herself. The leather had absorbed the sun's rays and was wonderfully toasty.

Once Rumer was dry and clothed they would begin their long walk back to Vel Anir. Norris would need a full report of her performance. Nathaira hoped that he would be pleased with her and the girl's work. On their way out, they would traverse the outskirts of the town. Best not to be seen, for the elven man's body was surely found by now.

 

[Rumer]

Was she laughing at her? Rumer really did not enjoy being made a fool of, but the reaction had been better than she had hoped and her look of exhausted confusion melted and a smile tugged at her lips as she watched the woman laugh. She was laughing! And..she was praising her, and stroking her hair, like Kasimir had. Maybe she would miss her if she got lost or died. "You like fish.." she grinned and managed a sputtered laugh of her own as the woman carried her back to shore.

Rumer danced around to keep warm as she dried off and got dressed, and she wrung out her wet hair and left it to dry in salty waves with the sun. She managed to push the incident to the back of her mind along with everything else, and focused instead on the journey ahead, enjoying the sun beating down on her. She decided that her spirits were good, and she walked beside Nathaira until there was a wall to balance on or a rock to climb on and she'd quickly rejoin her. Her legs were definitely getting stronger, and if all went well, she'd savour every step of the walk home and try not to think about home so much.

She hummed a song of her own making, a way of keeping the noise in her mind at bay, her own little melody of delusion. "Can you sing Nathaira?" she asked randomly, looking up at the woman as she dawdled along at her side.

 

[Nathaira]

Their shadows were nearly gone now with the sun directly overhead. It was an exceptionally bright day, and though Nathaira had her hood up her pupils had become pin-thin lines within the glistening amber. She could see the heat radiating from the dirt road, dissipating as it was absorbed by the grass and trees to the sides.

The sounds of the ocean had gone and with it the smells of salt of sea life. They had been replaced by the sweetness of wildflowers, wood from trees and bushes, and the hot dirt that they walked on.

Rumer hopped along rocks and balanced on walls and appeared to be... happy. It was a striking change, and Nathaira realized she had rarely, if ever, seen the girl actually, genuinely happy. It was good, she decided, it meant that she had been able to put her doubts aside, managed to separate horror from humor. She doubted very much that Rumer had fully accepted her actions, but that would come with time. For now, best to let her be happy in whatever way she could manage.

They would be back at the keep in a matter of days, and there would be no happiness there.

Rumer continued to surprise her by asking if she could sing. Nathaira thought about it. "No, I... I don't think I ever have," she said, experiencing the realization as she spoke it. The thought had simply never occurred to her. Singing? She enjoyed listening to it whenever a bard or minstrel happened to cross her path, but it was never something she sought out deliberately, and certainly never something she had even considered doing herself.

"Can you?" she asked the girl. She hoped that she could. Having a sweet voice to ease their hearts and minds would be so very, very welcome on the Forsaken's long and difficult journeys. They would be on the road for some time, and much of it passed through vast swaths of uninhabited land.

 

[Rumer]

Rumer has barely begun to accept what she’d done, but right now it was suiting her far better to cast the thoughts away and blank it out. Split yourself in two, Kasimir had told her. And this was her way of doing so.

Her lips twisted at Nathaira’s response, and she searched for a song in her memory... She cleared her throat, and sang sweetly, a song she’d heard often from her window.

‘I ask no lordling's titled name,
Nor miser's hoarded store;
I ask to live with those I love,
Contented though I 'm poor.
From joyless coin and heartless wealth
I gladly will withdraw,
And hide me in this lowly vale,
Beneath my roof of straw.

To hear my Nancy's lips pronounce
A husband's cherish'd name,
To press my children to my heart
Are titles, wealth and fame.
Let kings and conquerors delight
To hold the world in awe,
Be mine to find content and peace
Beneath my roof of straw.

When round the winters' warm fireside
We meet with friends in joy,
The glance of love to every heart
Shall speak from every eye.
More lovely are such scenes of bliss
Than monarch ever saw,
Even angels might delight to dwell
Beneath my roof of straw.‘

She sighed, and her arms swung by her sides. She’d never really thought about the words until she’d sung them herself. It was sad. And she regretted singing it..

“We lived on the corner, the lute player used to play outside..” she told the woman quietly.

 

[Nathaira]

The girl demonstrated her answer in a clear, beautiful voice. The wind, the birds, the rustlings of small creatures in the dirt, they all seemed to part to allow her song to pass through. Nathaira lowered her hood so that she could hear better.

It was a charming tune, one that danced a twisted through the air as one would expect in a tavern or perhaps a festival. Or maybe from that one traveller who always brought music with him. She thought of Kasimir and his lute, but the demi-tiefling did not sing.

The words were meant to be uplifting, to convince the common rabble that their lot was the better hand, and that the affections of their friends and family greatly outweighed the wealth and power of the noble. It was a lie, of course, for love would not buy you bread or warm your frozen fingers, but it would make some poor farmer feel better, and he would continue his work for his lord.

The words struck the Forsaken differently, though, for she had neither money nor love in her life. All she had was death, the gifting of it and the avoidance of it. Then again, she had done a pretty good job of finding small fingerholds to cling to and keep herself from tumbling into despair. The few Forsaken whose company she enjoyed, and this girl here who represented far more than Nathaira consciously understood.

"How pretty," she said softly, when Rumer finished. It must have been nice to have music, even from within closed walls. It would have given her yet another distraction, another thing to cling to. She did not mention this, Rumer was to be discouraged from thinking of her past life. Her current life was what she needed to focus on, and her current life would have many more rules to follow.

"You can ssing whenever you are alone, with me, or our 'friendss' but..." she looked solemnly at the girl, "...but never when the masterss can hear you. Iss that clear?"

Their proctors would not tolerate singing. Singing was an escape for the mind and soul, and they were not permitted escape. Even now the rune at the nape of her neck buzzed beneath her mane of mossy hair, subtly but insistently pushing her back to Vel Anir.

 

[Rumer]

Rumer's cheeks flushed a little at the compliment, though she chewed on the inside of her cheek as Nathaira reminded her how frowned upon singing would be at home. "Yes ma'am." she nodded an understanding, and the thought of Norris' punishment set off a carousel of dread in her mind, each thought that passed more terrible than the last. Even her face felt tight, like smiling just wasn't an option when she thought of the man. She wrung her fingers together and tried to push it out of her mind again.

"Nathaira?...." her tone was a curious one, but she hesitated as she considered the question she was about to ask. She simply wanted to fill the silence and fix her ignorance about the world. Still, she risked the woman taking offence and so she'd paused, unable to think of another question in which to substitute as she changed her mind.

"What... what are you?" Her face visibly winced as she heard the question, but she hadn't meant it offensively, she'd never seen or heard of people like her before. She understood that all Forsaken were half breeds of human and something more...distasteful. But she really had no knowledge of the world and it's creatures outside of the human race at all, her father would have had her believe that she was human for the rest of her life if he could.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira chuckled to herself at the question. It was a natural one to ask, after all. Most people were significantly more afraid when they asked it, so it was nice to experience genuine curiosity rather than dread and disbelief.

"I am naga, or, half-naga. They are great serpents of the far East." She clarified. "My mother wass human and my father, well, less sso." Her mind reflected back on the odd dream she'd had on the beach, the scarlet snake-woman that had haunted it. Nathaira rarely reflected on her less savory heritage, but she did sometimes wonder what her father had been like.

He was probably dead, she reasoned. Most Naga did not live very long. That was just as well.

"Truth be told I do not know how I came to be," she continued, "According to people much ssmarter than I, it should not have been posssible." She looked Rumer over. At least the girl had other members of her race around. There were numerous half-elves in the Forsaken, by far the most common mixed race in the city. As far as she knew, she was the only half-naga in existence.

"I was born, though, not hatched from an egg." She smiled at the bizarre imagery that conjured up. "At least, that's what they tell me."

A carriage approached from the distance. Nathaira drew up her hood and put it low over her head. She looked to the side to ensure that Rumer was doing the same. Their ultimate goal when traveling was to be unremarkable, if not unseen. The carriage rumbled past with a trail of dust, and it was not for a good few minutes that Nathaira removed her hood once more.

The sun was descending now into late afternoon. Her stomach made a noise of protest. They had some rations, but a fresh meal would be much better. Perhaps they could make camp in a couple hours.

 

[Rumer]

She looked up at the woman as they walked, listening to her with interest. She had so much to learn, but she didn’t want to irritate her new family with questions that might be considered silly or offensive. Her father had really taught her nothing useful other than how to keep a fire going and cook his meals.

She was discovering that there was far more to the world than humans and elves, and it both intrigued and frightened her all at once. “Serpent people?..” her eyes grew wide, the thought of giant snake people causing a shudder against her spine but she tried to suppress it. She’d seen snakes before. She hadn’t liked them.

“I don’t know much about my mother..” she told her and caught herself quickly “Except that she was a degenerate knife ear who ran off with some other knife ear and left me to my father to raise me.” her cheeks flushed. It wasn’t true and she knew it but it pained her to speak of her mother like that. It didn’t correlate with the perfect image she had always kept in her mind.

Rumer saw the carriage and looked back up at the woman, copying her in lifting her own hood and she stayed close. Her gaze remained downcast as the carriage passed them by, but she couldn’t help turning to regard it as it carried on toward the coast.

“Nathaira....?” that tone again. And another pause. She was playing with fire now.

“Why do you stay. If Norris hurt you like he did?... Why do you let him, when you could just bite him like you did to me?..” she frowned at the painful memory and subconsciously rubbed at her arm..

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira humored the girl. Indeed, no one had ever followed up the question of her race with more than screams.

"Yes, serpent people. I have only seen them in drawings, but they have the bodies of men with the long, slithering tails of snakes." The illustrations that she had been able to find in Vel Anir were quite horrific, though she did take some small amount of pride in being related to something so fierce.

She turned her head at Rumer's words about her mother. Should she correct the girl? Should she tell her that her mother was, in all likelihood, a good a fair woman? That Norris lied and her true history would be forever hidden from her? She chose not to speak. Such ill images of her mother would make life easier for Rumer, even if they were false.

The girl's next question was alarmingly astute. These were dangerous things to be thinking, and had Rumer asked anyone but Nathaira she may be risking her life. The serpentine woman stopped and turned to the girl, her eyes hard. "You must be very careful how you speak, child," she warned. She paused for a minute, considering the inquiry. Rumer would need to learn of the runes eventually. She would have her own in due time.

Nathaira knelt, and brushed her hair aside to reveal the back of her neck. Branded into her neck was a strange symbol. It had a faint purple tinge to it, and it almost seemed to glow. "This is a rune," she began. It was difficult to keep the sadness from her voice. "It holds powerful magic, magic that ensures I do exactly as the masters say. All Forsaken wear such a mark. It keeps us obedient." She bit her lip to hold back the feelings of anger that arose when thinking of the rune. "You, too, will be branded when your training is complete." She rose and resumed walking. "It is only to make sure we do not rise against our betters. It... it is not so bad." She lied.

 

[Rumer]

Rumer winced as the atmosphere changed, and she half expected the woman to hurt her. She'd regretted asking the moment the question had left her lips Instead, she was warning her, and Rumer's head nodded quickly as she understood. It wasn't a question she'd intended on asking anyone again.

She was surprised to see the woman kneel, and her brow furrowed in confusion as she pulled her hair around her shoulder to reveal the rune imprinted on the back of her neck. Rumer's eyes widened and she reached a hand to touch it but resisted the urge in case it hurt either of them. "So.... You really don't have a choice."

All at once it made the girl far less frightened of Nathaira and far more so. The woman had beaten and bitten her, and made her do terrible things (that hadn't really happened), but at least Rumer could question if there was any real choice in it, and she'd rather believe that there hadn't been. At the same time.. If the masters wanted Nathaira to bite her again she would do it, she would have to. It was an odd emotion for the girl to wrestle with, but it was soon superseded by the horrific thought that she too would be torn from her own free will entirely.

"I see..." was all she said, but a course of worrying thoughts ran through her mind in quick succession. Not that she'd risk voicing them, even to Nathaira. That rune made her loyal to their masters whether she wanted to be or not... "Can we make camp soon?.." she asked, her legs were starting to ache.

 

[Nathaira]

She recovered her neck with her hair and stood up. Drawing attention to the rune had caused it to prickle even more, and a persistent feeling of apprehension ebbed in on her mind the longer they took on their way back.

You really don't have a choice.

"No, we do not." She answered. It was important the Rumer knew the truth, blunt as it was. "Usually we can decide the how, and the when... but orders must be fulfilled." Her tone was distant, and she gazed forwards at nothing for a moment.

Can we make camp soon?

Seeming to snap herself back to reality, she said in a more upbeat tone: "Yes, good idea."

They found a good spot, Nathaira making sure to point out the aspects that made it favorable so that Rumer could pick it out the next night. They weren't far from the road, but anyone traveling it should not be able to see them.

"Build the fire," she said softly, "I will find us dinner."

It took her half an hour to find, kill, and return with a good sized rabbit. It wasn't a feast by any means, but it would suffice. The two of them would be used eating sparsely by now. The daylight was dimming to gold, and she called for Rumer as she got close.

 

[Rumer]

It was a nice spot. She thought. But they hadn’t been the only ones who thought so.

Rumer has wandered into the trees for kindling when something stepped into her path. She could smell him before she seen him, wherever he was. She pulled in a deep breath and as she was about to let it out and call for Nathaira, something hard hit her on the side of the head and she fell into blackness.

Male voices muffled in her ears and she tried to force herself to regain consciousness, her hand touching at the throbbing pain by her ear and she blinked dizzily at the blood on her fingertips.

“Hurry up and get a fire goin’! An’ get her out of those clothes, I’m starvin’!” . The voice was rough and the words were more akin to a growling animal than a man.

They were going to eat her.

A large, stinking foot was holding her down, and Rumer grit her teeth and tore a deep wound behind it’s ankle, and the creature screeched as it poured foul blood onto her and lifted it’s hold. “You little cunt!!”

She rolled quickly to her feet, but she was lifted straight off of them by another and a dirty hand was firmly pressed to her mouth as she kicked and screamed.

“Hey she’s a fiery one, looks like we can have some fun with her before we eat, boys!” The orc grunted and tightened his hold around her waist. She could hear Nathaira, and bit down hard on the orc's hand, the putrid taste of his blood filling her mouth and he let go long enough that she could call out to the woman.

“Nathair—!!“ but she was thrown down hard and kicked even harder, and the Orcs that she’d wounded were after her blood, their weapons drawn and ready to hack away. There were five, that she could see, but she couldn’t focus for long enough to think as the massive foot kicked at her, easily cracking her ribs.

“What’s that, little wolf bitch? Brought a friend for supper?” He laughed and kicked again.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira was out of the campsite before the rabbit hit the ground. Her tongue shot in and out furiously, the pits along her face seeking out any trace of warmth in the shadowy forest. She heard voices, deep and growling, with stupid guffawing laughs. Orcs. How had she missed them? Their scent was overpowering now that she was close; they must have been downwind the whole time.

She drew her daggers and scraped both of them across her fangs in a fluid, practiced motion. There was no time for subtlety, and she used enough of the deadly fluid that the blades dripped as she ran. Twigs and thorns nicked at her skin, and her hood had long since fallen back.

She burst into the clearing of orcs with a leap. Her approach had been heard for one was already turned to face her. She slid between his tree-trunk legs and sliced at the inside of his thigh. Hot blood sprayed the ground as he took a knee and began to shake violently. Orcs were always bothersome, their natural resistance to poisons and venoms worked against her. She could confidently kill one with a full bite but a single cut might not do the trick. He would, luckily, be incapacitated by pain and muscle spasms for some time, though.

Her head whipped around in a tornado of wild green hair. Still carrying her momentum from the slide, she lashed out at a second giant that was bearing down on her. She managed to deflect a swipe from his iron axe by catching it with both of her daggers, but the impact send shivers up her arms. She ducked a sweeping punch and with a wet pop pop pop she perforated his chest in the blink of an eye.

Disentangling herself from the brute as he fell she turned to search for Rumer. There, on the ground. "Ru-HUAAGH!" An arrow the size of a small spear had embedded itself in her thigh. She felt the bone shatter immediately, and she crumpled in agony.

"That's two wolf bitches for dinner!" gloated a large and dark orc, apparently unfazed by his two comrades who were either bleeding out or writhing. He held a very large, heavy, and crudely-made crossbow in his dirty hands. Orcs almost never used ranged weapons... Nathaira had not been expecting this.

She tried to stand, gritting her teeth and dragging her useless leg. As the arbelist stopped closer she hissed and bared her fangs. "The fuck is this thing??" he recoiled in disgust.

"Reckon it'll taste fine," said a voice to Nathaira's left, and she turned to see a heavy sword being raised above her. She spit a gob of venom at him and he dropped the sword, pawing at his face as it stung his nose and eyes. It fell heavily just beside her. She balanced precariously on one knee, daggers ready.

That's it, look at me, not the girl.

 

[Rumer]

Rumer was winded, and trying desperately to re-inflate her lungs. She had felt every single crack of her fragile little bones under the orc's huge foot, and she'd only been lucky that their attention had shifted to Nathaira for now. Rumer rolled onto her back, her arms wrapping around her broken torso as she finally drew in an agonising breath and coughed. Nathaira's cry brought her back from her dizziness, and her face was a contortion of her pain as she sat herself up.

"No..This one's some sort of snake bitch.." the dark orc growled as another of his comrades went down writhing. He stepped warily back from her, and lifted his crossbow to take aim.. "A bolt will sort her out." he laughed, but the laugh caught in his throat and his weapon fell to the grass, loosing the bolt into his already writhing friend who roared as it buried into his chest. A bonus!

The orc who'd held the crossbow sputtered blood from his mouth, and his hands clawed at his skin, tearing it open, spilling more steaming hot blood out as though he was trying to let it escape. He roared in agony. In terror. Dark blood leaked from his eyes, his nose and his ears, and soon it poured freely from his mouth and he collapsed onto his knees and fell onto his side, twitching and writhing as his blood boiled under his skin and spilled out onto the grass with a hiss as it met the cool air.

Behind him, Rumer had gotten to her feet, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession and her eyes never left the dying orc until he stopped moving. The others had stopped moving too, they stared in horror, and quickly regretted inviting the wolf girl to supper.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira readied herself to move as the orc raised his weapon once more. Her reflexes were good, but she hoped he would give her a sizable tell before pulling the trigger. Her left leg was all but immobile, but she could hopefully lean out of the way of a lethal strike.

She flinched as he dropped the weapon but was glad to see the bolt bury itself in another orc. Her eyes were quickly drawn back to him, though, as he choked and clawed at his own throat. His eyes went dark and wept red tears, and with an almost excessive shower of blood he fell to the ground.

Nathaira stared at the steaming blood on the ground, then to Rumer who stood above him. What in Arethil had she done? Had she torn him apart on the inside? Surely no old wounds existed there... was she able to create so many new ones already? Even that did not explain the monster tearing at his own skin, nor did it explain the bubbling, steaming rivers that burst forth from his veins.

She didn’t have time to ponder, there were more enemies here. They seemed to be deciding whether to fight or flee. They would not get the chance to make up their minds if Nathaira had her way.

She threw her daggers at two of the stunned orcs. There should have been enough venom left to cause debilitating pain, but again, orcs were never usual. With a quick nod to Rumer the snake woman vanished from sight.

 

[Rumer]

Rumer was lost to whatever pain and rage engulfed her troubled little mind, and her stare was cold, hard and lethal. She didn't know what these creatures were, only that the smelled bad and they were extraordinarily impolite. They wanted to hurt her more. Eat her. The elven man in the sea hadn't deserved what had come to him, not that she knew of. But these things...she wanted to hurt them, and the thought consumed her, unlocking her mind from all sense of self restraint.

She lifted her eyes from the orc as Nathaira's daggers found home in the two about to flee, and she watched the woman disappear. Her expression didn't break, but her attention was called to the orc who was crawling toward his fallen sword in the grass, a bolt protruding from his chest.

She wasn't afraid now. Her fear was buried so deep she forgot she'd ever known the emotion, and she turned on her heels and fell into a crouch to stare at the orc, her green eyes boring into him, unblinking. The orc spat blood as he managed to curl his fingers around the pommel of his blade, and he screamed in horror as the skin on his arm seemed to burst open and slowly peel away from his flesh. Rumer's brow furrowed as she focused, her jaw clenched with rage and concentration, and the orc's surface continued to fall away from his muscle, unzipping him from his suit of skin until there was none left, and it lay on the grass as though shed from a snake. The orc had stopped screaming, and his grip on the blade loosened..

 

[Nathaira]

All of the orcs were either dead, trembling, or screaming. Nathaira pulled herself over the ground, leaving trails in the leaf litter as the only evidence of her presence. Lucky for her the orcs were too distracted by pain to notice. She reached the nearest orc and sank her teeth into his calf, injecting enough venom to kill two human men. He did not scream, his throat had already been paralyzed by the venom on her dagger, which she retrieved from his side.

She did the same to the next orc, retrieving her other weapon. With the most immediate threats gone she returned to view. Maintaining the spell for that long was tiring enough when she wasn't edging towards traumatic shock.

A horrific scream called her attention back to Rumer, but it was not from the girl. Nathaira watched in awe as the orc was flayed by invisible knives. The only this that touched him was Rumer's gaze.

Nathaira had seen that look only once before, when Rumer had killed the elf on the beach. The hatred had been for her, that time, and it had only burned half as bright as the fury that she could see in those green eyes now.

Tearing flesh from bone, boiling blood from inside out... Nathaira thought back on their first meeting, how Rumer had seemingly struggled to open up even pre-existing wounds on her arm. Had the girl been holding back? Had she been able to do this all along?

She pulled herself towards Rumer, slitting the throat of one more fallen orc as she did so. The one remaining on the ground was still breathing, though he had lost a good bit of blood from his leg. When she got close, she gingerly touched the exposed muscle of the orc, felt the sticky, hot blood that had begun to dry in the forest air.

"That... was magnificent." She whispered, catching Rumer's eyes with her own, and she licked the blood from her fingers.

 

[Rumer]

The girl didn't look away from the flayed orc until Nathaira spoke, and she lifted her gaze to the woman, her mind slowly returning to her and she trembled, her eyes wide as the fear and pain came rushing back all at once. She fell onto her side, her body shivering as she'd put it through far more than she'd ever done before. She hadn't just wanted to kill the orc, she'd wanted to torture him, and she hadn't realised just how possible that had been until now.

She didn't feel sorry. Not for that. Her body needed rest but at least no more guilt wouldn't be piled on top of what she already suffered with. A sound caught her attention and her gaze snapped to the bleeding orc as he picked up his weapon, lifting as though he was about to throw in Nathaira's direction. His throat opened the second Rumer's gaze fell on him and blood sprayed from the wound and spluttered from his mouth and he was still.

Her eyes were heavy, and the pain was too grim to bear any longer. The child's angry eyes closed, and she gave in to darkness once more.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira moved a bit closer to Rumer as she fell, but her attention was drawn by the spray of blood behind her. When she turned back, Rumer was fast asleep. She dragged herself to sit next to the girl and put Rumer's head in her lap, off of the dirt and blood around them. She wasn't going anywhere in her condition, her leg stretched out uselessly beside her. Luckily, the orcs had already built a roaring fire. With great difficulty, she pulled herself and Rumer to sit next to it.

The pain in her leg was immense, and she could feel her heart struggling to keep her blood pumping in the face of such an injury, a good deal of it uselessly leaking from the wound. She had nothing to wrap it with, and using any clothing from the orcs was a guarantee that her leg would fester. Out of options, she plunged a stick into the fire and let it heat in the embers. When it was glowing hot, she used it to sear the skin closed against the arrowshaft.

Her screams were loud enough to erase any doubt that the orcs were indeed dead. Blinking away tears and grinding her teeth, she threw the stick down. Pain she could handle, but she had lost feeling from her shin down.

She gently nudged the girl. "Rumer," she spoke softly, and then a bit louder, "Rumer." If she ever needed the girl's healing abilities it was now, and she hoped that they were not completely drained.

Barring any stirrings from the child the pair would simply rest by the fire. Nathaira fighting to stay awake, though her body begged her for sleep. She was a poor guard in her condition, but few things were deadlier than an injured animal.

 

[Rumer]

Rumer has fallen deep, her broken body a dead weight and her breathing shallow and weak. She’d given too much and neither her body or her mind were used to it. She heard no screaming, felt no nudges and the sound of her name awoke only some part of her consciousness, faint and distant, but still she couldn’t wake.

After some time, pain started ebbing into her mind and she frowned, her breathing picking up and panic setting in. Her eyes shot open wide as she pulled in too deep a breath and she coughed it back out. “Nathaira?!” she gripped for the woman, grimacing and growling in pain.

 

[Nathaira]

The girl did not respond to Nathaira's words, nor her prodding. She had truly exerted a tremendous amount of herself, it seemed. She was grateful that Rumer had done so, she had certainly tipped the battle strongly in their favor, if not outright saving both of their lives.

The amount of power she had shown... it was terrifying. Nathaira was pleased beyond words that her ward held such potential, but she pondered the past few months in the light of this new information. She recalled Rumer's face at the seaside, the hatred that burned for her as she was forced to kill. Could she have opened Nathaira's throat from that distance? Could she have peeled the flesh from her body? She had not done so, and Nathaira liked to think that she never would... but the events of this evening would forever remain in her mind. Rumer's training would likely cause her to hate Nathaira again and again, and the elder Forsaken would need to learn how to defend herself against the invisible blades this girl seemed to conjure.

Her thoughts started to lose focus as time went on, the partial numbness spreading up her leg to encase her thigh. She couldn't feel the skin nor specific touch... only pain. Every now and then a muscle would twitch, a death cry of damaged tissue, and a fresh burst of agony would overtake her. By the time Rumer awoke, Nathaira's eyes had started to close.

She opened them with a start, holding Rumer steady as she awoke. "It's alright, it's alright." she said in a hoarse whisper. Her skin had gained an even greater pallor than usual, and her fingers rested weakly on the girl's shoulders. Still, her heartbeat had gained some strength.

"Are you injured?" she asked. She had not been in a position to thoroughly check Rumer's body, all she could do was wait for her to wake up.

 

[Rumer]

Rumer's head was pounding and it made her eyes difficult to open properly, but when they did they stared over the dead orcs. The one without skin. She forgot to breathe for a moment, and her expression was distant.

At Nathaira's question, Rumer blinked and pulled up her shirt with a grimace, her ribs already turning a ghastly shade of black. With only a thin layer of flesh that covered her them, it was clear to see that some of them were broken, and she groaned and sucked in a breath through her teeth as she touched gingerly at the protruding lumps under her skin. She didn't know if she could heal bone, it seemed to be flesh and blood she could manipulate, but she'd never tried to heal bone. "I.. don't think I can fix them.." she growled and looked up at the woman.

She didn't look well, and Rumer's eyes fell to the arrow shaft in her leg and she struggled to sit up a little. She gave the woman a look as though to ask permission, but whether allowed it or not her hands reached gently to the woman's thigh to settle at either side of the protrusion. She closed her eyes to try and push her pain to the back of her mind, her head pounding more and more violently as she did so. "It will hurt." she warned her, and breathed.

Her hands warmed considerably, and Nathaira's flesh would start to knit and reject the arrow, though it'd likely hurt just as much as it had when it went in, it was much better out. She'd had to do the same for her father twice, and he'd screamed and then beat her for hurting him afterward, so she'd expect some sort of punishment for it as was normal. It took more effort than usual, she was tired and weak, and her pain wasn't letting up to give her the level of focus she needed to do the job quickly.

When the arrow shaft fell to the ground, the wound only bled a little. She couldn't speak for damaged bone, she had no idea if she'd managed to heal that, but she could see the final layers of flesh bind themselves back together and leave an angry red scar on the surface.

The child swayed slightly and waited for repercussion, her eyes wandering over the orcs that the pair had killed, no...butchered. "What are they?...." she rasped quietly at the woman, her eyes blinking heavily.

 

[Nathaira]

Nathaira's lips thinned when Rumer showed her bruised and broken body. There were certainly some fractures in there, but at least the functions within seemed more or less intact. She was still breathing, so her lungs had not been punctured, and she would not have woken up if her heart had been affected.

She didn't have the energy to speak as Rumer then reached over to her leg. She winced instinctually at the touch, but the pain was dulled. That dullness did not last, for as soon as the blood and nerves began to mend they cried out in protest. The heavy arrow was ejected from her leg at a cruel, slow pace. Her muscles mended, tore against the iron, then mended again as it was removed. Nathaira bit down hard, blood dribbling from her mouth as her own fangs cut into her gums.

She was panting shakily when Rumer finished, but already the pain had become more manageable. She tested the leg, shuddered in pain, and let it relax. The bones were not fully mended, though perhaps the break had been reduced. This was more than acceptable, she could splint a leg long enough to reach Genevieve and the other healers in Vel Anir, but Rumer had spared her from further blood loss and infection. "Thhank you," she whispered in a sigh.

She turned her heavy head and followed Rumer's eyes to the orcs. "Orcs," she said in distaste. Her disdain was moreso for these orcs in particular, not the race as a whole, although she didn't care for the strong odors that usually accompanied them. "Rare around here, but not unheard of. A few bands keep just outside of Vel Anir, drawn to the trade and travelers." Travelers like them, she realized.

The sky was a darkening purple, but the orc's fire was still going strong. Nathaira wondered if she should punish Rumer for being careless, for walking into an orc ambush. Perhaps it would teach her to remain aware at all times, for the girl had been lucky she wasn't killed immediately.

No, Nathaira was in no condition to do so, and Rumer hadn't come out of this unscathed. Besides, she had revealed new secrets and strengths. In the end, it was fortunate that the orcs had crossed their paths.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, "I am afraid I losst our rabbit... but..." She tilted her head towards the flayed orc on the ground. It was not her first choice, but hunting was out of the question and they would need sustenance after that fight. And, if the meat had already been partially prepared...

 

[Rumer]

Rumer's glassy eyes blinked at Nathaira's thanks, and she managed a very small, shaky smile at her. She was looking for assurance, approval even...

"Orcs.." she repeated and turned to look at them again, her arm wrapping carefully around her broken side. "I've.. never done that before." she admitted as she looked at the flayed Orc. The sight of it was horrific, blood and pink muscle and tissue and an empty green skin lying underneath him like a discarded blanket. She looked away.

"Will you tell Norris?" she asked and chewed on her lip. She hoped he wouldn't make her do it again, she hadn't even been sure how she had done it, she'd been so angry about what they'd planned to do to her and Nathaira that she simply had to.. Then again, she could have cut his throat and been done with it. There was hatred involved.

Rumer was hungry, ravenously so. What she had done had cost her every ounce of energy her body had, and it craved food and water and sleep. At the woman's gesture toward the flayed orc however, her stomach turned and she stared at her in disbelief. "You mean, eat him?.." her nose wrinkled. The creatures' stench was horrendous and she'd eaten chickens and rabbits and deer but..orc? Her head shook and she clasped her free hand to her mouth.. then again, they had been about to cook and eat her, and she frowned at the thought.

It's a test. She told herself. You need to survive. She will be proud.

Rumer gingerly pulled herself to her feet, and went to crouch by the skinned orc, making sure to breathe through her mouth. She lifted his blade with a shaky hand, and stuck it into the meaty part of his chest, suppressing a gag as she did so. She looked to Nathaira before deciding to keep going, and she slowly sliced and sawed until she had a large enough slab of meat, and she skewered it with the blade to take it to the fire.

It's venison.. Just venison..

The venison was starting to smell a whole lot better.