Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Aftermath ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

Aftermath

Chapter Three: Loka's Madness

 

Rai whistles, raising one brow at the sight before him. Part of a once verdant forest is charred and lifeless, while the other half remains bright and green despite encroaching Autumn. A river seems to flow out of nowhere, winding down the slope and disappearing into a small dip and hole in the ground. And a definite pall seems to hang over the house that stands in the middle of it, the air above it appearing darker than the blue sky can break.

 

Something is definitely wrong with Loka.

 

Subtle questioning in Yule revealed that Loka lives on the outskirts of the town, she and Gaelin both. The townsfolk had given both Rai and Haiden strange looks for inquiring about her, and it quickly became evident that they consider the mage to be out of her mind. They spoke of strange behavior at odd hours of the night, as well as the working of odd magick for seemingly no reason at all.

 

“My sentiments exactly,” Haiden agrees, pulling Kender - his mare -- to a halt.

 

His gaze sweeps around the unnaturally still area, frown thinning his lips. There is a definite sensation of something not-quite-right that has Rai pulling the reins and sliding off his own horse. It is silent, utterly so, not even a cricket or a bird chirping. It's as if the wind has stopped as well, since not a one of the still living leaves are making the slightest rustle.

 

Patting Flynt on the shoulder, he loops the reins around the saddle horn and unlatches his sword from where he has kept it buckled. The feeling of threat hasn't faded, and he has the sense of being watched closely, by dozens of eyes. And not all of them are human either.

 

Rai doesn't feel the least bit comforted until his sword is a welcome weight across his back. Though he has the feeling that the enemy here is nothing physical nor even visible. His attention shifts to the house which, though bathed in shadows, appears immaculate. The vines are trimmed, the siding is clean, and there is a normal string of laundry drying off to the side. Sheets hang listlessly and absolutely still.

 

“I don't like this,” Rai voices aloud, and then winces when his words echo prominently, as though announcing their presence.

 

Haiden shakes his head and drops down from Kender, his gaze locked on the house. “We're already here,” he says, as though that means that there's something keeping them from leaving. “Let's go.”

 

He resists the urge to grumble under his breath and follows after Haiden, who is carefully picking his way across the grassy ground, splattered here and there with bits and pieces of rock. It is as if some great boulder has shattered, leaving only its innards behind. The closer they draw to the house, the more Rai's apprehension grows. He can feel it settling on his chest, squeezing his lungs.

 

And then the bush to his right rattles, and he nearly jumps ten feet in the air. His fingers curl around his sword, and he whirls towards the abrupt noise. Haiden prepares in much the same manner, dropping into a battle stance within seconds.

 

Only, instead of seeing a ruhin of any type leaping out at them, Rai is attacked by a brown-haired blur, which buries its face into the front of his tunic and grips at him with dirt-stained fingers. Blinking in surprise, and a hefty dose of confusion, Rai drops his guard and looks down at the child that has attached itself to him. He thinks he recognizes the tousled hair.

 

“Gaelin?” he poses in astonishment, body still in a partly frozen state at the unexpected assault. “Is that you?”

 

The head tilts up towards him, dark brown eyes glistening with tears, and the boy nods. Beneath the dirt streaked over his face, Rai is sure that Gaelin is somewhere. Though it will take a good scrubbing with hot water and soap to really tell.

 

Rai exchanges a quick glance with Haiden as the grip on his tunic tightens, Gaelin tugging to get his attention. He takes a closer look at the boy and curses under his breath. One cheek has the shadow of a beginning bruise upon it, the eye above it beginning to swell. And some of his clothes appeared singed, blackened at the bottom.

 

“Why were you in the woods?” Rai demands, looking past the boy to the ominous forest he had careened out of. It doesn't look the least bit safe. Had he been attacked by some beast?

 

Gaelin shakes his head, and it's not really an answer. Not that Gaelin can verbally give him one anyways. His body is shaking, Rai notices as the boy continues to cling to him. And though he is uncomfortable with it, Rai can't find it in him to push Gaelin away either. Terror reflects in his dark eyes, and it is not for himself alone.

 

Kneeling beside Gaelin, Haiden attempts to gather his attention. “Where's Loka?” he questions gently, fingers carefully inspecting the boy's injuries. They are not too serious, mostly scrapes and bruises. “Do you know, Gaelin?”

 

After a careful nod, Gaelin looks over his shoulder at the house, very pointedly suggesting that Loka can be found within. Nothing that they haven't already known. Without exchanging words, the two adults head towards the home.

 

The front door is cracked open, swaying back and forth with an ominous creak. Despite that, it doesn't really scream invitation and Rai is even more loathe to enter. Gaelin feels much the same, hovering behind Rai but unwilling to remain with the horses either. Stubborn brat. Rai never could understand why Loka had dragged him along their self-proclaimed quest.

 

Haiden is the first to enter, his sense of responsibility driving him more than anything else. Rai lets him lead, not at all eager to be the first to enter the proverbial lion's den. The house is silent, making the normal noises of a building settling, but otherwise deathly still. And dark as well, since most of the curtains are drawn and only one lantern is lit.

 

It is there that they find Loka. She is sitting at a table in the semi-darkness, far from the brightness of the lamp. Her motionless form sends a chill up S'raiya's spine, especially since he can't see her face as obscured as it is by the shadows. The air smells faintly of smoke and fire, but he can't see any traces of it in the dim.

 

Haiden licks his lips, unwilling to admit his uneasiness. “Loka?” he calls out, hoping to catch her attention and not startle her. One booted boot makes a muffled thump as Haiden comes to a halt.

 

The mage stirs, and turns towards them slowly. The fingers of one hand lying flat against the table top scratch across the surface. It is an eerie sound that makes Rai's skin crawl. Something is most definitely wrong here.

 

“Haiden,” Loka whispers in a hoarse voice as she registers their presence. Or Haiden's at least. “You came.”

 

The chair slides back with a defining screech of wood on wood and Loka rises to her feet, turning towards them with a single, lurching step forwards. “I had hoped you would.”

 

Loka stops, half-in and half-out of the light provided by the meager torch. Her upper body and face are still bathed in shadows, but Rai can see her hands are dangling at her sides. Every finger is twitching, as though missing the grip of something. And he is suddenly glad that there is but one lamp, feeling no urge to find another.

 

“Oh yes, indeed, I had hoped,” the mage repeats strangely, and abruptly giggles, an eerie, girlish sound that doesn't fit her character in the slightest.

 

Behind Rai, Gaelin makes a noise halfway between a squeak and a gurgle. He is peering around Rai's bulk with only one eye, as though seeing with both would make it that much more frightening. The sense of unease seems to fill the room until Rai feels like he's choking on it. He's very, very ready to get the fuck out.

 

Bravely, Haiden watches her curiously, as uncertain of the situation as Rai. “Your letter was vague,” he begins, taking an unconscious step backwards. “What's going on, Loka?”

 

She chuckles again and one hand lifts to pat down the front of her clothes, fingers obsessively running over the knot in her over robe. “I didn't know it would come to this,” she says, and her voice sounds repentant. Until it suddenly switches timbre, as if she is of two minds. “I was so, so arrogant. And I had great reason to be.”

 

She takes another step forward, revealing the lines of her face and the burning green of her eyes. Something flickers across her face, like sparks of blue lightning and her eyes are glassy, as though she were on some strong opiate. A normally tan complexion is streaked pale and dull, like a corpse made to life.

 

Gaelin's fingers tighten around Rai's clothes and they tug, as if trying to pull him towards the doorway. He makes that sound again, like a frightened rabbit, and Rai realizes that his fear is of Loka herself, and not of some creature in the woods. Gaelin had been hiding from his caretaker.

 

“What have you been doing to Gaelin?” Rai demands, his tone harsh and angry. His eyes narrow. “What the hell is going on, Loka!”

 

He ignores the look Haiden is shooting him, the warning glance that he is treading on dangerous ground. Loka is acting strangely and it would probably be best not to antagonize her. But dammit, Rai wants some answers. Unconsciously, his hand falls to Gaelin's head, comforting the boy with the weight of his touch. His father had done the same for him at his mother's funeral and he could still remember how much it had consoled him.

 

The mage cocks her head to the side, tongue sliding out of her mouth to lick across her lips in a vaguely serpentine motion. “The fifth,” she responds with a happy clip, one hand gesturing towards the ceiling with a sharp motion. “That was my folly. But I needed her to break the seal, you see. I needed, needed, needed.”

 

Her next step crackles beneath her foot and there is the distinct smell of burning wood, acrid and sharp. Rai glances down to see the flooring beneath her bare feet beginning to blacken and curl away from her. The house gives a great shudder around them and more of the blue lightning arcs across Loka's face, making her appearance ethereal.

 

Haiden swallows thickly, exchanging a quick glance with Rai. There is clearly something magickal that is the cause behind it all, and neither of them have any knowledge of the arts. They are out of their element, with a child to protect and a friend to save with no idea as to how.

 

“We came to help you,” Haiden says quietly, but Rai notices that his hand drops to his sword, fingers lingering near the hilt.

 

Loka chuckles again, her eyes flashing iridescent, like the flash of a beetle's shell in the sun. “There's no helping me now, Haiden. It's far too late.”

 

Beneath them, the floor rattles ominously and Rai swears that the earth is shifting. The ground rolling and swaying with every surge of power that he can feel licking at his skin. He can practically taste the magick in the air. He is starting to think that Loka is right and wonders why she called them there. If it is too late to help her.

 

She takes another step forward, and nearly stumbles, her hand smacking out flat against the wall to catch her balance. Where her palm touches the wood, it instantly scorches, sending up at thin stream of grey. And when she regains her equilibrium and removes her hand, a perfect print remains, still smoldering.

 

Loka is lurching now, her gait lumbering and uncoordinated as though she doesn't have any control over her body. The lines in her face are clear now, making her seem far more aged than her years. Her hair lies limp and haggard around her face, and her eyes are bloodshot to match the drugged glaze. She looks like a woman on the edge of her mind, or perhaps she has already teetered over.

 

Unconsciously, the two men take a small step backwards, and Gaelin ducks back behind S'raiya, as though the sight of Loka frightens him beyond belief. Rai finds himself standing a little straighter, using the bulk of his form to hide the boy from the mage's view. Loka doesn't appear to be paying much attention to the kid, though. Her gaze is locked on Haiden, and behind the blankness, there is a quiver of recognition.

 

“I just... I need you to do me this one favor,” Loka begins, sounding for once like herself. There is a spark of clarity in her behavior. “I've been holding it in until you but... I can't... not anymore. And just... Gaelin.”

 

It is stuttered and barely comprehensible, but Haiden seems to get the gist of it. “You can't fight it?” he asks quietly, despite not having any clue what it is she is battling against.

 

She shakes her head and one hand rises to clutch at her skull, nearly tearing out lengths of long blond hair. Blood dribbles out of her nose and Loka angrily swipes it away. “I tried. Solan knows I tried but I guess I wasn't strong enough after all.” A bitter laugh escapes her lips. “They've come to claim their due.”

 

It doesn't make any sense. None of this does. Rai wants to say as much, but he's being driven to a stunned sort of silence. Much like Haiden. He wants to back away slowly, find the door, and never look back. But then sharp green eyes seem to find him, despite the madness, and Loka grins crookedly.

 

“Rai...” she murmurs, her voice cracking. “Take care of him for me, please. Rai. I know he likes you. Rai. Please. Rai.”

 

He feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up as something crackles through the air. A strong smell of sulphur, like the air before a violent summer storm. Like one of her favorite magick attacks, streaks of lightning that burn through her opponents in a wicked burst of jagged gold.

 

She is repeating herself. And her voice, once a melodious, throaty timbre, is varying in pitch. As though there are more than one personality within her, and every one of them are trying to speak their whims.

 

The two men can only watch in horror, absolutely speechless as the events unfold before them. They are useless, unable to do a single thing to help or to stop the madness. In fact, Rai feels very much frozen in place.

 

Her body gives a great shudder and she clutches it as though trying to hold herself together. “My dear Gaelin,” Loka murmurs and looks at him, the child she raised as her own. The boy she surely loves as much as her own flesh and blood. “Sweet Gaelin, forgive me. I just... I just wanted...”

 

Loka's eyes brim with tears and her body pulls towards the floor, fingers gripping so tightly that they are white-knuckled. “I'm so, so sorry. So sorry.” Fire licks around her feet, hungrily spreading across the floor as they back towards the door, though Haiden lingers, wanting to help her.

 

She glares at them, all the life gone from her eyes, her face pale and bloodless. Lips a thin smear in her expression. Something flickers behind the mask of her face, stretched taut against the angularity of her bones. As though something is trying to break free, and succeeding more and more with each passing moment.

 

“Run. By Solan, run.” The last is very nearly a scream, torn from the depths of her body and screeching past her lips in obvious command.

 

And they don't need to be told twice as Rai scoops Gaelin up into his arms and throws himself out the door, Haiden a step behind him. Loka's scream, like a thousand voices crying out in agony, follows in their wake. It rattles in their eardrums, until Rai feels like his brain is bleeding down the side of his head from the pain.

 

They are barely two steps from the house before it abruptly implodes, flame and lightning and wind blasting in all directions. Haiden and Rai dive to the ground, Rai hurrying to cover Gaelin with his body as the boy shakes, crying silent tears. Haiden is cursing, grief-stricken himself, and Rai is ashamed of himself for his terror.

 

Debris batters their bodies, and the wind shrieks above them, swirling as though it has finally been freed from a prison. A piece of the rubble careens out and strikes Rai's weak shoulder and he curses fluently as pain ripples through him. Groaning, he pushes himself further towards the ground, curling his body around Gaelin's. There is nothing they can do but ride out the worst of the storm, the magick lashing out at their bodies angrily.

 

A terrible shriek rises up from the home behind them and Rai peers over his shoulder, eyes slitted against the lashing wind. The voice is Loka's, but it is mixed with others. And on the edge of the scream, something is laughing maniacally. He is pressed to call it Loka.

 

The flames rise higher and higher, and he thinks he might see a form standing in the midst of it. But in the next instance, the vague outline is gone and the horrible sound abruptly ends, the silence broken only by a crackling flame.

 

Gaelin struggles beneath Rai, scrambling free and making a dash for the building, where the fire seems to be shrinking, pulling into itself. The earth rumbles ominously, giving a groan of dismay. A warning shudders down S'raiya's spine and he acts without thinking, throwing his body forward and wrapping his arms around Gaelin.

 

“No,” he practically growls, pulling the boy away from the house. He endures the fighting and the squirming because his instincts are beginning to prove true.

 

He manages to scoot a few steps backwards, pulling Gaelin with him, when the ground beneath the house gives a great heave. A boulder suddenly shoots from the earth, spilling rock and vegetation everywhere. Its massive form reaches for the sky and then abruptly topples over, completely crushing the remains of Loka's house.

 

Rai can only watch in awe as the earth continues to rumble, groaning and shifting as it steadily buries the home beneath tons of soil. When the dust clears and the land stills, there is nothing left of Loka's house but the laundry line, one half still connected to the massive trunk of a nearby tree. It seems utterly peaceful, except that the unnatural quiet makes the entire area feel like a graveyard.

 

The two adults finally pick themselves up from the ground, brushing pieces of the house from their clothing. Blood drips from a cut in Haiden's forehead, and Rai's shoulder is aching painfully, but there doesn't appear to be any serious injuries. Gaelin has ripped free from Rai's hold and is now stepping towards the flat ground where the house once sat.

 

He drops to his knees, palming the smooth earth, and tears well up in his large brown eyes. Rai and Haiden can only watch helplessly as he sobs, fingers scraping at the dirt. His shoulders shake as his head bows, lost to his grief. Loka was the only mother he knew, and now she was gone, for reasons neither adult could understand.

 

All that remains is the echo of her presence and her magick, the scent of ash on the air, and the final resonating strains of her last scream.

 

* * *

 

Rai pulls his blanket up over Gaelin's sleeping form, the boy finally dropping away out of exhaustion just a few minutes prior. His face is still streaked with dirt and ash, but he fought off attempts to be cleaned, even by Rai. So the two men had just left him. The tear tracks are even more apparent through the grime.

 

Sighing, Rai shifts back into his former position, back against a tree trunk and stares across the flames of the campfire at his companion. Haiden is leaning against a log, dragged to their location for that purpose, idly honing his blade. The soft scrape of the pumice over the metal is a soft accompaniment to the crackling of the fire.

 

“He's finally asleep?” Haiden asks quietly, his gaze focused on his blade, the stone skillfully passing over it.

 

Rai nods, pulling one knee towards his body and resting his arm atop it. He tilts his head back, watching the smoke lazily seek the sky through the overhanging branches of the tree. He can barely see the stars just beyond, faint glimmers of light.

 

“He's pretty exhausted,” Rai responds, and reaches up with his free hand, rubbing at his shoulder. It is throbbing where the debris smacked him, and he wishes he had a leaf of salica to chew on. For now, he'll just have to abide by the pain.

 

Haiden's gaze flickers from him and then back to his sword. “The arm still bothering you?”

 

“Always.” He falls silent and closes his eyes, feeling exhaustion attacking him.

 

They'd been absolutely helpless, unable to help Loka. And even though he wasn't so amenable to the idea at the start, it bothers Rai that they couldn't do anything for her. Nothing more than make a marker for the flat piece of earth that served as her final resting place. And now, they had Gaelin on their hands, and no idea what to do with him.

 

“Rai, what do you know about magick?” Haiden asks after a moment, tilting his blade to check the edge in the light of the fire before returning to his honing.

 

S'raiya shrugs, his stomach grumbling but feeling too tired to do anything about it. “About as much as you. Jack shit.”

 

“Thought so.” He pauses, as though thinking of something. “Remember when Loka left the group for a while?”

 

“Yeah. She said it was because she was pissed at Suerte for lying to us, but I think she was fibbing just a bit herself. Why?”

 

The wind shifts, sending a flurry of smoke Haiden's direction before returning to its original course. The brief burst of grey momentarily obscures his face. “Loka said something once. That she was strong because of the four spirits. But earlier, she mentioned five. Maybe that has something to do with it... whatever it was.”

 

“And maybe she couldn't remember because she was out of her mind,” Rai retorts, remembering the eerie grin that the mage had been sporting. And recalling the bruises that mar Gaelin's face. “Only another mage could answer that.”

 

Haiden rolls his eyes, glancing once more at his blade before deciding that he is satisfied with it and putting away the necessary supplies. “I should've paid more attention to Ryn when she was trying to tell me about the arts.”

“Since she's such the expert,” Rai remarks sarcastically, thinking of the girl and her little use.

 

Unlike Loka, who had been able to control at least four elements, Ryn had only been successful at handling one. Minor healing and cantrips were the best she had been able to do. Useful for blisters and paper cuts, but little else. Just like the rest of her.

 

Sighing, Haiden slides his blade into its sheath and sets the sword down at his side, fixing Rai with a glare. “All right. Get it out. Whatever you want to say about her so I can lay you flat about it later.”

 

“If you even can.” Rai snorts and opens his eyes, dropping his chin so he can meet Haiden's gaze. I just don't get it. You've nothin' in common. She's a lord's daughter for Solan's sake, Haiden.”

 

He shrugs nonchalantly, raking one hand through his hair. “She's a nice person,” he explains, groping for some kind of explanation that Rai would understand. “And she really does care about the people.”

 

“By planning a wedding?” Rai poses skeptically, not buying it for a second. To him, it sounds like Haiden is making excuses. Not once has the man even claimed to love her. Not once.

 

Something nameless flickers across Haiden's face and he sighs, rubbing fingers over his forehead. “It's what I'm supposed to do, isn't it?” he questions, suddenly sound immeasurably tired. “Save the world. Get the girl. Marry her and--”

 

“--have lots of little brats running around calling you 'papa'?” Rai finishes for him, his stomach churning at the thought. They are too young for that much domesticity. “Is that what you want?”

 

“Yes,” Haiden answers, but when Rai gives him a disbelieving look. “No. Maybe. I don't know. Besides, Ryn was there for me after that fight and--”

 

Rai snorts. “In other words,” he interrupts, beginning to see the root of the issue. “She just happened to be there and you don't know how to say no. She's either gotta be the best lay in this kingdom or you're more greedy than I thought.”

 

Kicking out a foot, Haiden slumps against his log and looks every part the petulant child. “You don't understand,” he mutters, raking fingers through his hair and making the strands even more disarrayed than usual. “She loves me.”

 

“Rynneth loves her knight in shining armor,” S'raiya corrects, remembering the girl's story with much displeasure. “She only thinks she loves you because to her, you're that guy that saved her life. Saved everything. And she wants her trophy. Just like dear old dad.”

 

Frustration sparks in stormy eyes and a growl reverberates in Haiden's throat. “Enough,” he demands shortly. “Don't insult her like that. She's a good person.”

 

“I didn't say that she wasn't,” Rai counters logically, amused by Haiden's attempt to bristle and show his fangs. “I just think that you're staying with her out of some twisted sense of duty. That's a sacrifice I don't think you should have to make.”

 

When Haiden shoots him a warning glare, Rai holds up his hand in acquiescence. He'll drop the conversation for now as Haiden is stubborn and won't listen to him anymore. Besides, all the talk about his least favorite female is making his stomach churn and he'd rather sleep peacefully.

 

“Fine,” he agrees, refusing to apologize. And he gestures towards Gaelin with his head, easily shifting the subject. “What do we do about the brat then?”

 

His friend watches him for a minute and then follows his gaze. “I could take him back to Weirth. There are a few orphanages there,” he suggests quietly.

 

Rai shakes his head. “They're filled up and you know it, Haiden. He'd only be shuffled around and pretty much ignored, especially since the kid's mute.”

 

For some reason, Rai doesn't like the idea of Gaelin being handed over to strangers and lost in anonymity. Not for everything that the kid had seen and gone through with them. It doesn't seem right. Especially after Loka had specifically asked them to look after the brat for her.

 

“Ryn might be willing to take him in but...”

 

“What about Trahern?” Rai abruptly suggests, remembering how much of a liking the blacksmith had taken to Gaelin. As if he had seen something in the young boy that had reminded him of someone important he had lost. “You think he'd watch over him?”

 

Haiden's brow furrows as he considers the suggestion. “It wouldn't hurt to ask, I guess. He doesn't live far from here. A day or two ride to the south, I'd estimate.”

 

“It's a plan then. We'll leave in the morning.”

 

A grunt from Haiden's direction is the only sign of the other man's agreement. Probably still seething then, considering Rai's words and hating them for the truth that they represented.

 

Closing his eyes, Rai pulls his cloak tighter around his frame and tilts his head back against the bark. He's glad that autumn hasn't completely taken over, otherwise the night would have been colder than his cloak could handle. The fire helps, spreading warmth through his exhausted body and making the fatigue seem overwhelming. His shoulder still aches, but it has faded to a dull throb. Nothing he can't handle.

 

He can hear Haiden settling in as well and briefly wonders if they should bother setting up a watch. He hasn't spotted a ruhin in this area in the past twelve hours, and doubts they would linger anywhere around a recent outpouring of magick. And surrounded by the thickness of the trees, he thinks they might be a little safe. In any case, he doesn't plan on sleeping deeply. After surviving for so long on his own, Rai trusts his instincts.

 

It is they which he relies on as he falls into sleep, lulled by the warmth of the crackling flame and the familiarity of the two bodies with him.

 

He remembered pain, harsh and burning down his back. The wound was deep but not debilitating. It bled, but it wouldn't kill him. It was already sealing over, scabbing and crusting. But it wasn't being cleaned. S'raiya wouldn't be surprised if he gathered an infection. That would be what would kill him. Not the loss of blood, seeping slowly down his back.

 

It had been a sword, jagged and rusted on the edges. And he had acted without thinking. Diving, ducking, stepping between Haiden and certain death. Haiden, who was facing his opponents with a recently shattered sword and nothing but his bare fists.

 

S'raiya had seen the blade, saw its threat. He had moved without thinking. And then it was pain. Bleeding, horrible pain. And fire. There was running, but he couldn't move because something had slammed into his forehead.

 

They ran and he remained, crumpling to the ground as pain exploded through his skull and darkness encroached upon his vision. He had thought it was death. And later, he would wish it had been.

 

The beasts were laughing. The creatures that so resembled humans if not for their oddities. And there was conversation in that language that no human could make sense of. Discussion. Tones that were similar to an argument.

 

Something kept his eyes shut. They had blindfolded him. Or perhaps the room was simply kept dark. He fell asleep to darkness; he woke to darkness. And Rai wondered if he would ever remember what it meant to see again.

 

He was cold and his wrists ached. It felt like rope woven from wire had been wrapped around them. He could feel blood dripping from every tear in his skin. He was shivering and wondering where his cloak had gone. Somewhere beyond his sight, water dripped in a steadying rhythm.

 

Plip. Plip.

 

Rai thought that maybe he was a captive and he wondered why he was still alive. Why they hadn't killed him like all their other victims. Why he was the one allowed to live and what use he could possibly be alive.

 

Most of all, however, he wondered if the others had made it. Stumbling into that town had been the worst mistake. Trusting Suerte that there were still those to be saved had been another error. Thinking that they were all heroes was the most foolish thing they had ever believed.

 

The voices were getting closer. As was the laughter, shrill and mocking. Or perhaps that was the fear talking. He could feel it building inside of him, no matter how much he tried to pin it down. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he was so nauseous that he could scarcely breathe.

 

There was a crunch, a footstep over stone and dirt. And then a finger was tracing down the side of his face, catching on the cloth over his eyes but not pulling it off. The claw scratched at his flesh but didn't break the surface. It was discomfiting, but not painful. Rai feared moving, lest something a bit more marking occur. His back throbbed.

 

“So fragile,” A voice commented above him, and though the accent was thick, he recognized the language as common. The ruhin had been learning their language.

 

Rai jerked away from the touch, despite his earlier thought that he shouldn't. “What are you doing?” he demanded, hating how vulnerable he felt. Without his sight, he could only rely on his other senses and they weren't cooperating. “What do you want?”

 

There was a chuckle, slow and sliding through the space between them. A flutter, like wing sliding on wing. And a brush of air against his cheek. He didn't know how to interpret these sensations and the confusion made everything that much more unsettling.

 

“Play, yes?” The question came, stilted and hard to comprehend. “You humans. You... fragile creatures.”

 

Rai swallowed thickly, not liking the sound of the word “play”. Fingers trailed through his hair, catching on the band that kept the longer strands tied back, and snapping it easily. Claws scraped against his scalp before a good handful was gripped and tugged, forcing his head back. One claw touched to his bare throat, taunting him with its sharpness, and a single prick drew a bead of blood.

 

The cold fear that gripped his heart was debilitating. Rai froze in place, every muscle locking and refusing to move. Sweat broke out over his body and it took every effort not to whimper. He didn't want to show his fear.

 

Another footstep, another echoing breath, and another ruhin was around him somewhere. A palm pressed to his back, right over his wound, and it hurt. Just as badly as the initial cause of the injury. Rai hissed, sucking in a breath that felt fiery.

 

“Bastards,” he cursed aloud, and swallowed, feeling the claw rise against his throat, moving with the motion of his swallow. He wondered if they even knew what the invective meant.

 

He wondered how long he would last before they would kill him, and that was only when the first blow fell. He quickly learned to stop counting.

 

With a start, Rai jerks out of his sleep, his eyes popping open. There's a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and a stormy gaze looks at him with concern.

 

“Rai?” Haiden is crouching in front of him, having been the one to shake him awake.

 

To his horror, S'raiya can feel his body shaking from the memories of the dream. The echoes reverberate through him, and his mind's eye helpfully recalls the details of something he has been trying - with little success - to forget.

 

He shakes his head, subtly shying away from Haiden's touch. “I'm awake,” he says gruffly, pulling his cloak from around his body. His breath puffs a white mist in the cool, early morning air. “No need to shake me.”

 

Haiden releases his shoulder, but continues to watch him with that damn knowing expression. “You were having a nightmare.”

 

“No shit,” Rai responds, feeling more surly than usual. He doesn't like having his weakness shoved back into his face. And he hasn't wanted anyone to know the nightmares that have been haunting him.

 

Bracing himself against the tree behind him, he shoves to his feet and stretches, body groaning and protesting the movement. His shoulder gives a twinge, but doesn't complain too much. He catches sight of Gaelin, sitting in front of the fire and sipping at something that is steaming. Gruel no doubt.

 

Haiden hasn't stopped watching him, but apparently, he decides not to ask any questions because he doesn't say anything more about the nightmares. “I made breakfast,” he offers, moving to flop down beside Gaelin.

 

“If it's what I think it is, then no thanks,” Rai responds, nose wrinkling at the thought of eating the boiled and congealed mass of oats that always sat in his belly like a bundle of rocks.

 

His friend shakes his head at him, knowing all too well his dislike for gruel, and for a second, everything feels blessedly normal. It is enough to chase away lingering shivers. Rai moves closer to the fire, still feeling a bit cold on the inside. He wants the warmth to chase away the remnants of his memory turned nightmare.

 

He is glad, for the moment, that there is something similar to a quest to keep him occupied. Otherwise he would be thinking right now, and the last thing Rai wants to do is muse on the things that shorten his nights.

 

He really doesn't want to remember.

 

* * *