Private Tales Under the Stars

[Harry]

Sierra​

Snow-white sand caked the front of Hal’s body as he pulled himself ashore, coughing up water and gasping for breath. Blood flowed like a river from a deep gash in his thigh. Around him, driftwood and other remains of a ship floated onto the beach. Farther out, debris still floated. Only the moons lit his surroundings.

Hal, Sierra, and three other Apprentices had been dispatched to carry out the assassination of a high-value target and their retinue. Details were vague, and the only information that lended to the identity of the targets were that they were Cortosi renegades of sorts.

Hal was far past deep-thinking in regards to the people he killed. The group conducted a week long search and investigation after half a fortnight of traveling to their destination. The assassination was flawlessly carried out, yet complications arose on the journey back. Their ship was captained by a sailor independent of Vel Anir. It was a fast vessel and it being small allowed them to move rather inconspicuously. Despite this, shortly after departing the island they were intercepted by renegade warships.

They managed to escape the warships with severe casualties to the other three Apprentices, but a storm through the night ravaged the ship. Their vessel capsized, he was thrown overboard. Thus resulted in Hal’s current situation. Stranded. Alone. Bleeding.

Fingers curled and clutched sand. After taking ample time to regain his composure and breath, he finally straightened up. His knees shifted in the sand as he took in his surroundings. Behind the tree-line was pitch black.

He dragged himself further up the beach until he could feel grass, then laid on his back. His leg throbbed, but he ignored it. He wished to just rest for a moment.

He wished to see Sierra, to at least know if she was alive.

 

[Sierra]

There was an explosion. She remembered their small boat being rocked apart. Had it been Black Fyre? Shrapnel and wood went flying everywhere. She'd lost track of the boys. She remembered that hot-force knocking her off the deck as it was splintered apart, then being swallowed by the cold, deep-dark sea.

The empath whimpered as she slowly came to. Face pressed against something gritty and salty. Stormy gray-blues cracked open as her hands dug into the sand. Waves lapped along her feet and ankles, like greedy fingers trying to pull her back out to sea. Fingers pushed into the sand as she sat up, sputtering and coughing what felt like half the ocean from her lungs.

Was she the only survivor?

 

[Harry]

Hal’s rest didn’t even last a minute. After his thoughts of Sierra passed, he sat up. Blood continued to flow from his wound. He did not know healing magics. Nor was he resourceful enough to suture the wound on the spot. Most of his peers had methods to treat wounds, but Hal was unlike the rest. Without actual utensils, he was stuck with no way of treating himself.

He unsteadily rose to his feet and hobbled towards the ocean. It was incredibly vast and dark. He picked out a rather long piece of driftwood. Using a piece of wood broken from the larger debris and his own ripped tunic, he fashioned an unimpressive tourniquet. He leaned on the driftwood, using it as a makeshift crutch as he limped along the beach.

It was cool, but a warm nighttime summer breeze touched his skin. As he looked at the stars that curled over the horizon, he desperately wished to find his friend alive.

 

[Sierra]

Twin moons were out as slivers tonight. Sierra blinked in the darkness and shook her head. She must've passed out again after coughing up that water. A disgruntled whimper left her mouth as she sat up.

Every muscle in her body ached. Felt tired.

She wanted to use her magic to see if she could feel Hal, or any of the others, around. But she was tapped. Eyes adjusted to the darkness, the light of the stars and moons making dark outlines that must've been the treeline - visible just ahead. It took her a moment to realize there was a moving dark figure approaching her from down the beach. It walked strangely.

Shit.

Hands went to her belt, curling around one of her throwing knives. One of the few that had stayed on her from the water. Stormy-blues narrowed in the darkness and she tried to push herself to a stand but was unable to do so. Fingers dug into the sand behind her seated position as she raised her arm with the throwing knife.

"Don't come any closer. I have a weapon," voice rasped to Hal. Only, she didn't know it was Hal.

 

[Harry]

He wondered how long it was as he hobbled along the beach. He saw Sierra from a distance, yet passed her silhouette off as being a rock or debris that washed ashore. Anemia had began to effect his vision, so he did not see when she lifted her arm as he got closer.

He did, however, hear her. A voice, one that he would never mistake even despite the rasp behind her words. Relief washed over him like the waves that touched the beach.

“Wait, Sierra,” He called out with a panicked tone, “It’s me.”

 

[Sierra]

She froze in the night. She’d heard stories of wraiths and shape shifters walking the earth. Fooling those dumb enough. Outstretched hand trembled.

But she knew it was Hal. Her Hal.

Knife lowered.

“Hal,” she breathed. Relief and exhaustion making her voice tremble. Using most of the strength she had left, she stood and took the one-two steps that separated them. Arms threw around her friend in a weary hug. She’d lost her armor in the sea so she was down to a simple tunic, belt, pants, and boots.

Her sandy face pressed briefly into her friend’s shoulder as if feeling his warmth would convince her he was really there. And alive. And not a wraith.

And well, warmth for it being Hal. There was always a touch of unnatural cold to his skin.

“Are you okay?” She’d murmur against him. “I don’t know where the others...if they,” voice trailed off.

 

[Harry]

As Sierra threw herself into his chest, he felt his leg buckle, but he did not fall. Confused emotions swirled as her arms wrapped around him. She was much warmer than he. Gently, his free hand rose and he caressed the back of her head, pulling her into his shoulder even tighter. His chest rose and fell as he let out a deep sigh.

Only his left leg was armored, as he had removed the chausses on his right to apply the tourniquet to his wound. His arms were also bare and exposed fair skin. He still wore his gambeson, yet no tunic under since he used the fabric to make the tourniquet.

"No," He admitted, "My leg, it's bad. I lost a lot of blood."

He rested his cheek against her head. Her hair was wet and smelled of the sea, but he closed his eyes and joyfully savored the moment.

"I washed up on the beach alone. But, I'm... I'm happy that you're okay."

He was in a vulnerable state. Following the murder of Igot Crane, Hal had underwent a drastic change. He seemed harder, colder than before. He became out of touch with the emotions that he had carried for several years. That hardness shattered at the mere possibility that Sierra had died, left him alone on the island.

 

[Sierra]

They'd be punished for this at the Academy. They weren't supposed to show physical affection. No hugs. But they weren't at the Academy. They'd both nearly died.

Again.

And here they were. Exhausted. Injured. Relieved at being alive. At not being alone.

She took a breath, breathing in his scent. And for a fraction of a moment, she felt like that scared little girl on her first day at the Academy standing in the rain on that training field. Cold. Alone. But then a hand reached out briefly. A small, shared smile. And that was it.

Sierra slowly drew back. Hands rested lightly on his shoulders. She tried squinting in the dark down at his leg. Their training on survival was slowly beginning to kick in. "We should head to the tree line. Try and find shelter for the night. Can you walk a little further? You can lean on me if you need to?" Her hands fell away from him as she turned to come along his side, motioning for his arm to go around her shoulders if he needed it.

 

[Harry]

He looked down at Sierra as she pulled back, and nodded in response. He pushed aside confusing emotions to focus on their situation.

"Shelter would be nice," He grumbled, "I can walk."

He watched her as she took to his side, and after a moment of internal deliberation could not help but sling an arm over her.

"When I was thrown over," He explained, "I believe that I struck a rock. It's deep, but I bound it to stop the bleeding."

They began to walk towards the treeline. As they entered, the moonlight they were previously graced with did nothing for them. Hal held his left hand up and whispered.

"Lux," A small ball of light formed above his palm, lighting up their surroundings, the spell's radius only illuminating a few feet around them. Were he not so weak, he may have been able to light up more.

 

[Sierra]

Arm snaked around his waist to help with support as they walked. It was hard to say whether she was supporting him or he her. Sierra liked to think it was the former. Though, her legs trembled slightly with fatigue as they walked.

“I’m not used to you doing other magic,” she commented quietly, pale eyes panning their surroundings for some kind of shelter for the night. Firelight played off her features, making the reds in her auburn hair stand out like changing leaves in fall.

“There,” she pointed ahead. There was a large banyan tree with roots falling from the branches into the ground. Gaps formed naturally between the roots, creating a small hovel. Looked like enough space for them to sit upright inside. Plenty of space to stretch out. They’d be covered if it rained at least.

 

[Harry]

They walked quietly for some time before she commented on his use of magic. He looked at her.

“Yes, well,” His voice trailed for a moment, “College magic isn’t so useless, huh? Still, I can only do a few simple spells.”

He had always neglected learning College magic. Ever since the tournament, he began to read and practice simple spells in the Archives. Most of what he learned were suited for scenarios such as the one he and Sierra found themselves in. He also found that by practicing College magic, which required thought and control, also helped him build the dexterity necessary to control his own innate magic.

His eyes lingered on her for a moment, her hair and fine features distracting him from their surroundings. She pointed forward, the gesture pulling him from his trance. Thick roots, like vines, cascaded down from the tree. It would be more than an adequate place to rest for the night, perhaps multiple nights.

“Good eyes,” He praised as they came upon the tree slipped between the roots. With some assistance, Hal sat with his back against the tree’s trunk. He let out an exhausted sigh and watched as his friend sat next to him.

 

[Sierra]

Once Sierra hit the ground with her back to the tree, shoulder lightly pressing against Hal's, she felt like her bones turned to lead. Weighed down with exhaustion. Still, she made herself move, push away from the tree and kneel over that leg of Hal's.

"Hold the light up a bit?"

Like Hal, she studied the general Academy magic. All apprentices had to take the classes. She didn't know much about healing. Couldn't really do it but she knew a spell to take care of any infections. She imagined that would be the worst of their problems if they were stuck here for awhile.

Leon certainly wasn't around.

Fingers spread out, hovering above his wound. "Camtasia drooso," she murmured, vision blackening on the edges at the effort. Her energy levels were near depleted. This would finish what she had left off. There was a quick glow on his wound gone in less than a blink. Rocking back on her heels, she sunk back next to Hal, eyes closing.

"Should buy us some time."

She was too tried to worry about setting a watch.

 

[Harry]

Camtasia drooso, the incantation was familiar and earned a sigh of relief from Hal. He feared that they would have to cut out festering flesh from his leg, but the spell alleviated that fear. He rested the back of his head against the tree and strained his eyes to look sideways at Sierra. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed. Out already. He closed his hand, suffocating the light he had created.

He, too, was tired. Not to the extent that Sierra was, but swimming ashore with that leg of his took a toll on him. He wanted to rest his eyes, but he was wired. Every ambient noise was clear to him, and his vision began to adjust to the darkness they found themselves in. Hands in his lap, he stared straight ahead for hours, thinking to himself all the while.

After several hours, light began to break through the canopy.

 

[Sierra]

At some point through the night, he'd find an auburn-haired head resting on his shoulder. She didn't mean to. She'd just leaned that way naturally when unconsciousness took over.

Head would shift slightly as the morning light grew brighter.

Birds giving off their morning calls echoed through the treeline. And beyond that were the steady thrums of the surf. Sierra's eyes shifted beneath closed lids that finally fluttered open. Took her a moment to realize she'd fallen asleep on Hal.

Head pulled back, palms going to rub around her eyes.

"Sorry," she muttered.

 

[Harry]

Hal had turned to watch his friend come to. He had quite enjoyed having her head gently rest against him, and missed it as she pulled back. His own body was plagued with fatigue, and through the night he had struggled to stay awake.

He wanted to tease her for being so vulnerable around him but only gave her a small smile. It quickly faded as thoughts of survival entered his mind. He was in no shape to move around too much, let alone hunt. With no proper healer and supplies, the process for his recovery would take a while.

He dismissed her apology with a wave, "It's fine."

He began to work at the tourniquet, exposing a deep, gruesome gash in his leg. The bleeding had indeed stopped from the tourniquet. The spell that Sierra had cast fended off infection, but did nothing to make the wound itself look any less grotesque.

 

[Sierra]

She frowned. Pale eyes passing over the wound as he revealed it. It didn't look infected which was good. But it was serious.

Her training started to kick in.

They'd been cast into the wilderness before. Early on it had been the Falwood. That's when she, Hal, Luther, and Talus had first come together as a group. They'd agreed to work together to survive. Half the class was lost on that mission.

"Can you look around this area for wood?" She was giving him the easy job. Scout the area. Build up the campsite. She knew he wouldn't be able to walk much.

She crawled out of the small area between roots they'd slept in the previous night and glanced over her shoulder as she stood. "I'm going to scout the beach. Check out the area. I think this is an island but maybe not." It was risky going alone but it would be riskier to be with someone that would hold her back.

 

[Harry]

Hal had received many injuries over the years, but none quite as severe as this. He chuckled to himself, thinking of the irony of surviving a little over a decade at The Academy, but dying from a rock in the ocean.

He looked up to Sierra, a slight frown on his face. There was no debate that his leg was a handicap. All he was good for was breaking camp. He acknowledged her with a nod, and followed her out, dragging himself behind her. He used the roots to pull himself up and leaned up against the overhang when he finally climbed to his feet.

Many things were rushing through his head.

“Stay safe,” He averted his eyes, “Please.”

 

[Sierra]

Eyes tracked curiously to Hal's face. But her eyes failed to capture his own. His request caught her a bit off-guard. As an empath, she had easy access to pick-up on how those around her felt. She'd always tried to curb her gift around her...friends.

She was tempted to break her own rule now.

Instead, she silently turned away and continued to pick her way back up the path they'd taken last night. It wasn't a long distance back to the beach. And from there? She'd search the shoreline for other survivors. Perhaps some supplies. And maybe see where exactly they were.

 

[Harry]

Only when Sierra turned did the boy’s eyes fix onto her. Specifically, her auburn hair that swayed with every step. It was a beautiful clash of color against the green all around them. He had felt closer with her than ever before following Igot, though his recent changes had also created somewhat of an awkward rift between them at times.

On the other hand, he wondered if she would leave to scout their surroundings and never return. To leave him behind, it wasn’t an unrealistic idea. He was weakened, and would slow her down should they run into any danger. It would not be unexpected for her to leave dead weight behind.

Looking to distract himself from further negative thinking, Hal did as suggested and gathered wood. Some for building, some for fire. He would gather a large pile and fasten some woven plant fiber found in the forest to drag it back to their little hovel. It took hours, but his diligence paid off. He had gathered ample wood. Using his magic, he created a sharp edge of ice to hack away at the roots. It created an opening, and with that opening he used the gathered wood and built a makeshift hut. It was nothing impressive, but would at least protect them from rain and at least allow them to lay down at night.

After reaching a good enough stopping point, he sat outside the makeshift shelter and whittled at a long, thick branch with the intention of fashioning a bow for Sierra to use.

 

[Sierra]

Booted feet tracked the beach alone. There were broken boards of their ship washed along the shore. Not much else. She managed to salvage a half-torn sack, which she was able to sling over her shoulder and put in some other supplies: seven tins of food, two containers of water, and some torn and frayed rope.

After about an hour of walking the beach, she decided to cut back into the island, seeing a towering oak. Leaving the supplies at the base, she began climbing. Hands had built up callouses over the years and climbing for the archer was almost as natural as walking at this point. Reminded her of the time in the arena with that half-orc and the invisible timber wolves.

At least there weren't any wolves this time.

Getting to the top, she surveyed the place she and Hal had washed up. definitely an island. Looked like a rive cutting through the center. Open sea to the north, south, and west. Looked like a sliver of the mainland to the east.

Thank the stars. They might actually have a chance at getting off this place. Climbing down, she scooped up the supplies and headed back to camp. But if someone asked her, she wasn't sure if she wanted to leave so quickly. Even though she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about the glacial blues of Hal's eyes.

 

[Harry]

The humidity made the air heavy. Hal's tanned skin possessed a healthy glow from some slight sweating. His arm's muscles, appearing as if woven from some type of metallic fiber, rippled with every movement as he whittled the bow into an acceptable shape.

It reminded him of summer days by the coast. Long gone was his carefree childhood of playing with his siblings. Aside from his whittling, he sat rather still, and felt some peace come over him as he listened to the sounds of nature. An occasional strong breeze would disturb the canopy, that of which he heard from the rustling of branches above. Insects buzzed around him. Cicadas, but Hal wouldn't be able to put a name to the noise. Unknowingly, he wore a winsome smile.

There was no experience like this at The Academy, where all their surroundings were dreary stone and pale dirt. Here, vibrant colors overwhelmed him. The luscious green vastness was broken by small splotches of exotic flora. Blues, reds, yellows, purples- all manner of colors created a beautiful scenery.

His smile grew wider as he imagined Sierra, auburn hair flowing down like a waterfall, standing in the middle of it all.

 

[Sierra]

Sierra's steps were near silent as she traveled across dirt and pine straw. She stepped beneath vines and other hanging foliage. Matching verdant gaze tracked to the work Hal had done. But it couldn't capture her gaze long as greens panned to Hal.

He looked different than at the Academy. Lighter.

Satchel dropped off her shoulder. "You were busy," she mused. Opening the bag, she began drawing out what she salvaged, showing Hal the tins of food and bottles of water.

"There's good news and bad news. Which do you want first?" The young girl plopped down on the ground across from him, legs crossing beneath herself.

 

[Harry]

Almost as if summoned, an auburn streak of color made itself present amidst green as Sierra emerged from the foliage. He did not know if it was relief or happiness, but his smile grew wider as he watched the girl approach him, flashing a small glint of white between his lips.

You were busy.

Her words wrested him from his trance.

"Oh, yes." He stammered as she laid out what she gathered. The tips of his ears felt... hot?

A finger rose to scratch his chin. "Bad news first," he said with reluctance.

 

[Sierra]

She took a breath. Popped the bottle lid of one of the waters and took a long swig, offering it across the small space that separated her and Hal. Back of her hand wiped across her lips.

"Whelp. Until you get your strength up to cross a small stretch of open sea - looks like we're stuck here." She wasn't sure how long it would take Hal to heal enough to travel what would probably be a grueling distance without a proper boat.

"And no sign of the others," she added quietly. She didn't know what that meant. Were they dead? Or just picked up by the other Vel Anir ships that had left her and Hal behind?

"Good news is we've got plenty of food and there's a river down the middle of the island. Should be good on water." Fingers came up to tuck auburn strands of hair behind one ear as she studied Hal quietly.

 

[Harry]

He set aside the bow, incomplete, as the skin of water was passed to him. He drank and listened, not once taking his eyes away from her. The dryness that plagued his throat was instantly relieved. He let out a pleased sigh as he lowered the leather skin.

He cast his gaze at the dirt between them as she mentioning finding no traces of their fellow Apprentices. He surmised that they would be at the bottom of the sea.

"A river, good." He thought of washing up, more so than he thought of a source of drinking water.

"I'm making a bow for you," He blurted out. There was a brief, awkward silence. "For hunting. If we need it."