Chapter 10
As the woman’s minions closed in on the party, she emerged from the darkness into the wan light of Renaud’s orbs. She moved with precision and grace that spoke to her training as a mage, sending a chill through the party as they realised the magnitude of her talent combined with ruthless underlings. She wore tattered robes weathered on the roads of Phasia, her bandoleers worn and cracked by many years’ exposure to the elements. Her gaunt and sun-drenched appearance did little to dissuade their anxiety. Yet as her form came fully into the light, Renaud shied away in disgust. Her face, though plain with a dark green eye on one side, was heavily marred by scars so terrible not even Solvi had seen the like. Her other eye was whiter than snow, knitted with blade-trail scars that descended to her cheek. Or rather, where her cheek once was. Her face had been mutilated, with the teeth of her right jaw visible through the stringy network of sinews that had come to be her face below the eye socket. Yet it was not the scarring that invoked fear in Solvi, it was the determined gleam in her eye.
“I do not know what brought you to this place, Renaud.” She spoke in a gravelly, dry voice as if she hadn’t tasted water for decades. “But I would have you explain to what end you seek these temples.” The woman then drew herself up, turning her scarred cheek to the man in defiance of his disgust. He looked about himself for a moment before noting Renata’s fearsome glare. Their eyes met for the moment and an understanding passed between them. He then looked up at Solvi with solemn eyes, unbuttoning his robe as he went. The scarred elf woman lowered her hood, revealing tresses of curled white hair which she began to tie back. Solvi then understood what Renaud intended to do.
“Take my sana. Take the Crook. Take them both far from here and this woman.” Renaud, dropping his foppish bravado, appeared to Solvi to be speaking from the heart for the first time in his life. He pulled his staff into a readied position after depositing his robes on Mara’s prone form as an improvised blanket. “As to you, Ranva, it is high time I cleansed your stain from this world.” Renaud’s face then set itself in a malicious scowl which Solvi took as her notice to leave. As she and Arthur began bounding past the demonic minions of this woman, they found themselves protected by shots from Fred’s rifle. With a crack of bone and spray of blood, the demon’s hand became nothing more than a memory as it reached for Arthur’s head. Renata utilized the little strength she had left to grasp one of the coils of the serpent and throttle it in flaming fists. All the while, Mara’s unconscious form jostled within its sling.
Renaud observed the distraction of his opponent and slammed the butt of his staff against the ground with a crackling detonation. Ranva refocused her gaze in time for her world to blacken. With no light, she cursed and attempted to summon her own to no avail. Then, the sinister laughter of Gaius Renaud informed her of the danger she’d bargained with. All about her, flaming edifices of buildings erupted from the darkness. Within them, she heard victims screaming for succour, pleading with invisible captors. Her breath caught in her throat and her teeth bared against this trickery. Then, as she frantically searched for her minions in this hellish vision, she saw him. Renaud stood atop the singed and blackened remains of a fountain or sculpture, foot resting upon its head.
“To command demons is a fine thing. But I command the senses themselves.” Renaud chuckled, his form merely vaporizing from existence as Ranva cast a bolt of lightning at him. She realised her mistake as one of her servants shrieked. Only then did Renaud allow her to see its smoking remnants fall from the walls of the illusion. “I was tempted to make you destroy all of your lackeys. Fortunately, I had like-minded help.” The ephemeral voice of Renaud taunted from all about her. Realising her advantage, Ranva attempted to dispel the magic. Her success, only partial, allowed her to see a strange metal person pull two blades mounted on their arms from the carcass of her demonic servitor. It hissed something vaguely elvish at her before escaping the room altogether as the illusion closed in once more.
Outside, Solvi was dismayed to find that the woman had brought not only impish servants but also the bandits to harangue the dig team. Many, former soldiers, had formed defensive barricades about the caravans. Albrecht stood atop them, waving his sword and slicing into any who dared approach. His faithful, ever dutiful to the elvish people, huddled behind him with feeble swipes of their swords as valorous defence. The dead and dying lay about the platform with lesser demons and bandits perusing their finds rather than helping a crowd of their fellows shout taunts and jibes at the defenders. Into this chaos, Solvi imparted the stretcher to Renata’s hands and lofted her halberd menacingly.
Just then, a grey blur emerged from the temple screaming indistinct elvish threats of some kind. Their blades came crashing onto anything that did not resemble a mortal, sending sprays of ash in their wake. Solvi motioned the group to follow, Fred shooting bandits that dared encroach on their path. They had the grizzled grit of veterans for even a well-placed shot did not deter their movements. Realising that reinforcements had arrived, they crowded themselves into the ravine’s exit and began to lock their shields. The metal person did not seem to care a wit for the creatures of flesh and had busied themselves by employing the arm-mounted swords of their body against the imps besieging Albrecht.
The mad dash of the players in this tragedy to their places gave Albrecht the opportunity he needed. With a ferocious cry, he leapt upon the fleeing bandits and laid about him with his sword. As one attempted to crawl to safety, he felled the man with a curled lip. Seeing the party returning, he waved the group down and directed his Army to form a line in case of counterattack. The bandits continued to hold position as the groups reunited, more concerned with their quarry escaping than the last stand of a ragtag band of veterans.
“Where is Renaud?! They have the numbers, but the fools practically announced their attack. Clumsiest approach I’ve seen in decades.” Albrecht shouted to Renata, indicating with a finger to the smoking remnants of Solvi and Mara’s caravan. Renata, no tactician by any means, shook her head in disbelief before the barking of an alleg attracted her attention. Albrecht followed her gaze with a wicked grin. “They allowed us the asset of our animals. I intend to punish them for that mistake. Well, punish them more.” Albrecht laughed then with sadistic glee, whistling to his underlings. At the command, they began filing into the two remaining caravans whilst a party of ten mounted their wotlings. Renata didn’t see fit to question this as she began hurrying over to comply with Albrecht’s madcap plan.
“He elected to stay behind to deal with the demonologist. They appeared to know each other.” Renata shouted over her shoulder as she squeezed into the caravan’s spacious interior. Solvi and Arthur scurried to Fred’s wagon, laying Mara upon the table whilst upwards of ten people squeezed into it shortly thereafter. Space became a luxury as Fred and Solvi took to the driver’s seat through the window. The pair of them shared a look with Arthur who had busied himself with triage of the injured. Arthur looked to Mara with a hopeless shrug of his shoulders, instructing several uninjured people to keep her steady as he worked. Rather than attempting to heal with radiance, he sought to draw the necrotic energies from her body. With that, perhaps, she could at least regain consciousness and tend to her wounds in a less painful way. With the care of the injured in good hands, Solvi took the reins whilst Fred wedged a box of ammunition between his knees and cocked his rifle.
Just as the survivors were set to leave, Solvi looked across the platform to see the mad metal person dispatching imps that crossed their path indiscriminately. Lost for words at this person’s savagery, Solvi moved the wagon into position before leaning over the seat to shout for the creature’s attention in broken elvish. She made a motion with her hand for them to follow, only to find them taking a running leap onto the caravan’s roof. Rolling her eyes, Solvi nodded to Albrecht who stood ready beside his wotling cavalry.
At Albrecht’s command, the wotlings and their riders charged ahead of the caravans. Their pistols shot fiery projectiles at the huddled shields of the bandits. Many shots simply bounced off the shields with characteristic cracks and flashes. Some found their mark and a shield would collapse from its place in the wall. At first, the wall appeared to be ready for this charge as a few pikes bristled outwards. Yet Albrecht did not renege on his course. With a series of crashing detonations, the wotlings impacted the shields. Pikes desperately attempted to drive back anything they could impale while Albrecht’s soldiers toiled with their sabres. The bandits were not typical ruffians and at the sounding of a whistle, the line behind them refreshed those soldiers who had been enduring the brunt of Albrecht’s assault. Unable to sound the retreat for a fresh charge, Albrecht rode from the front line and came to stop next to Fred and Solvi as they began their loping up the ravine’s exit.
“They could stay there all day if they wished! Tell Renata we need a magical intervention.” Albrecht commanded, attracting a raised eyebrow from Solvi. She looked to Fred, who’d nested his rifle to his shoulder and was busy cursing these inane tactics. Charging a high ground choke point, he could scarcely imagine a more defender-sided engagement. Perhaps Albrecht would like to gift them some battlements? Maybe a crenelation or two? Perhaps some artillery wouldn’t go amiss since the bandits seemed to be having trouble.
“Sod yer magic! If you want somethin’ done right, call a bloody Skitti.” Fred growled, scurrying back into the caravan. After shouts, swearing and a few wayward fists, Fred emerged with the excavation tools salvaged from the dig. He rummaged through the crates for a few minutes, looking over his shoulder at the Army’s ill-fated charge. “Alright fancy boy you’re in luck. Someone ‘ad the same idea I did.” Fred cackled with triumph, pulling some unassuming looking brown paper tubes from the crates. Quickly and with his sharp teeth, he bit several lengths of fuse cord and began winding them together. With a free hand he pulled a tinder and flint from his overalls, tossing his pipe into the caravan behind him. “You an’ your uppity band better ‘ope my throwin’ arm’s still good.” Fred babbled, hopping astride Albrecht’s wotling to the latter’s visible discomfort. Fred seemed too distracted with tying the tubes together into a stable bundle to notice as the pair took off up the ravine’s exit towards the flagging front line. Solvi took some rope from the crates and hastily bound herself to the seat, knowing all too well what the explosives would do to animals as easily spooked as allegs.
From her vantage at the foot of the ravine, she saw the smaller figures of Fred and Albrecht struggle as Fred climbed the taller man’s shoulders. Solvi’s eyes widened as she noticed the lit fuse trailing smoke from Fred’s hand as he flung it with all his might behind the enemy lines. Apparently, Solvi wasn’t the only one who noticed for the Army lines broke shortly afterwards, racing towards the temple. Albrecht careened towards the caravans with Fred ludicrously clinging to his neck. Shortly after, as the bandits touted their victory with cries and insults, the passage behind them erupted with a catastrophic detonation. The sides of the ravine shook, and bandits were sent flying onto the ground as rocks fell from the top of the ravine. Solvi didn’t even need to entice her alleg into motion as it urged itself into a panicked run. Unable to turn quickly, the alleg did the first thing it could and bolted up the ravine followed by its fellows. Solvi felt immediately thankful for her rope harness as she was practically flung from her seat with every stray rock or body they flew over.
Exiting the ravine, as it transpired, was not the key difficulty of their escape. Not only were the imps who had survived the metal creature’s wrath giving chase, but the treacherous switchback roads down the mountain were now a terrifying race between caravan and allegs as one threatened to outstrip the other. Fred was there once more, tying a stretch of rope to several points along the caravan’s bulk. Solvi looked at him with terrified curiosity as he gave two thumbs up, tying the other end of the rope to a grappling hook. Solvi looked ahead to see the burnt-out towers of the bandit checkpoint. Swiftly, she put the parts of Fred’s plan together.
“You’re absolutely insane if you think this’ll work! It’ll tear the caravan apart!” Solvi hollered over her fear and the rushing wind. Fred gave her a look as if he hadn’t heard as he raced ahead with the wotling’s speed to hook the grapple against the interior of the wooden tower. Solvi, possessed by her fear, forgot she had access to a halberd blade and tried desperately to manhandle the rope free of the caravan’s chassis. Her rope harness made the task difficult while her fear drove that difficulty to impossibility. Before she knew it, the long rope took all slack and sent the caravan rocketing around the corner of the switchback. Fred was there once more, giving Albrecht a crack on the back of his helmet with the tip of his rifle. On command, Albrecht severed the rope. The caravan, now free of its tether, continued careening down the pass whilst the allegs desperately attempted to slow down its breakneck pace. Solvi, sensing the creature’s distress, signalled to the metal person who had resorted to embedding their swords into the wood of the caravan to keep gripping the roof. She tried giving instructions in limited elvish only to be greeted by no response. The metal creature climbed from the roof, holding their hands open in surrender whilst their swords retracted into their forearms.
“Veth?” They asked, before appearing to have an idea. With arm sword extended, they took the end of the rope Fred’s escapade had engendered and set about tying it to the crate of dig supplies. A sturdy construction, the strange being proceeded to angrily shake the open crate beneath the noses of terrified passengers until Arthur seemed to get the gist of their instruction. He began placing everything of weight into the bags, trying not to think of the many trees flying past their windows at an alarming rate. Once the crate was filled to the stranger’s satisfaction, they hefted it with difficulty from within the caravan and onto their shoulder. With visible stress, they seemed to be awaiting their moment. With low tones, they invoked the names of the gods and hauled with all their might to send the crate careening into the woods next to the roadways.
Nothing happened for a split second save the caravan beginning to list heavily against the rope. Then, with a panicked shriek from the allegs, the caravan banked onto two wheels and the creature was left paddling its feet impotently on thin air. As the turn approached, the rope grew taught once more and for a blessed moment it appeared as if the same trick would save them again.
The rope snapped. For that moment, the metal stranger and Solvi shared a look of sheer panic. Then, the two of them seemed to realise something together. With a swift strike of their sword, Solvi came free of her harness and the two jumped from the driver’s seat onto the tilted roof of the caravan. With a shared nod, the pair flung their weight against the caravan’s careening side. That small act in the briefest of moments seemed to tip the balance, causing their bound allegs to slam to the ground and send the caravan sliding along the muddy terrain. Solvi, her legs tucked against the roof, held onto the quaint roof tiles for dear life as their alleg anchors began to slowly by surely drag the caravan horizontal to the road. With a bang that sent the rocks of a dry-stone wall careening down a cliff face, the caravan came to rest with its broken wheels turning slowly.
There were no words or proclamations, only relieved wails, hysterical laughs and silent solidarity. The survivors of their expeditious retreat crawled from the strange caravan gingerly, careful not to upset its precarious balance. As they all came to stand on firm ground, the strong among them began to right the caravan with rope and hooks procured from the crates. Those initiated in the old ways of orsan magic tended to the allegs, becalming their frantic stares and alarmed barking. They were still some ways from the bottom of the mountain, causing several of the dig crew to take to replacing the broken wheels. After some time, Arthur emerged from the caravan with a strained expression. He appeared pale, attracting a curious look from Solvi. The large orsan woman was busy resting her aching body after the terrors of their escape. The strange metal person had vanished, moving silently through the thick woods in search of their infernal prey.
“I had the strangest interaction with Mara.” Arthur observed, seating himself on the ruins of a once proud dry-stone wall. “I was tending to her wounds, attempting to remove some items of clothing to check for injury. Yet before I so much as touched the buckle of her mask, she grabbed my arm and forbade me. Said it wasn’t my secret to learn.” Arthur continued in a neutral tone, yet Solvi had known the man peripherally long enough to sense his troubled mind. He looked at his hands, frown weathering and almost ageing him in the moment. “She said it with such aggression that I could scarcely believe it was her.”
“Mara’s been acting very strange since she took the job from Renaud. She got even stranger around this particular project.” Solvi grunted, a bitter hint entering her voice as she considered Renaud’s influence on her roommate. “When we were up in Lemuria, at the Archmage’s Council, she was the picture of confidence. Now, she’s-.” Solvi faltered, as if searching for the right word. She pinched the bridge of her nose, wearily setting eyes on the caravan. “Her confidence is hollow. It rings like the words of a braggart or man at the bottom of his cup.” Solvi motioned awkwardly and held up her hands in surrender at her lack of poetry. She was not the intellectual her mother had wanted nor a brave warrior.
“It’s a far cry between arrogant insecurity and maliciousness. Truly, I’ve known the woman since I was a child. She valued my father and his father’s input. Now, she is reckless.” Arthur pursed his lips and shook his head, smiling at his own words for a few moments. Solvi affixed him with a glare that he could only shrug in response to. “I often think that she does not have opinions. Merely what she feels someone expects her to say.” Arthur grinned over at Solvi, who appeared intriguingly pensive. The look caused the young man to drop his smile nearly instantly, tilting his head in anticipation of Solvi’s thoughts.
“Mara feels the weight of expectation greater than most. She would speak with me in the camps about her pedigree, her station as the first sana of Renaud. It is something we share. The disappointment of our elders.” Solvi reminisced, her mind slipping back once more to those dark days where her world became four small walls and a wrought iron door. When the pain of her shoulder grew so great, she could not pretend otherwise, Mara would appear at the door. And they would talk. Arthur did not comment, instead employing a small smile as the workers on the caravan cheered and clapped each other on the back. Their transport had once more been repaired. And with a sombre mist falling with the sun, they once again began their journey to Yanhelm.
When next they came to rest, the survivors were in the Benam Forest. They had chosen to hide under the trees to escape marauding imps that still searched for them on leathery wings. Renata’s wagon had joined them later, travelling much faster without the need for repaired wheels. She had used what little magic she had to suppress the emotions of her allegs. They had been far more compliant as a result. The two caravans had taken shelter in a rocky glen that had two exits, both of which were blocked by Albrecht and whatever volunteers he could muster. Many Army members after their first taste of real battle had shrunk into themselves, leaving the veterans to fill the ranks. Solvi, Renata and other survivors sat sullenly with suspicious eyes for the darkness around them. They clung to one of the small fires that had been lit by the survivors to cook their meagre rations. Fred, ever diligent, had taken to scouting the surrounding woodland with the metal stranger who seemed to have a personal vendetta against any and all fiendish entities. Arthur, handicapped by his patient’s specific requests, had taken to siphoning what deleterious energies he could from Mara’s body.
It was shortly after moonrise that the forest about them began to crack and rustle with several footsteps. Solvi immediately got to her feet, eager to skewer yet more scaly bodies on her halberd. Renata, beyond her means to cast spells, retreated behind Albrecht who drew his sabre in defiance of whatever came for them. It wasn’t until several strident whistles came in three distinct notes that Solvi allowed herself to relax. She whistled in return, spying Fred’s small form emerging from the undergrowth. He motioned with a paw behind him for the metal person to follow. Shortly after he descended the steep bank into the cleft, skirting past the caravan that had been placed as a barricade, his companions made themselves known.
Emerging from the forest, the metal person carried upon their shoulder Renaud’s broken form. His clothes were ragged, torn by claw and tooth alike. He seemed barely conscious, blood staining his shirt and trousers. His suspenders had been repurposed to a tourniquet on his upper arm. It was clear that his battle with Ranva had been ferocious, and that she had intended to kill. Renaud had his teeth bared with the pain, the metal person calling in elvish. Solvi needed no translator and ran to fetch Arthur.
As Solvi entered the caravan, she was greeted by a sight all too familiar. Rows of prone bodies lined the floor or crowded the bunk beds Fred and Arthur shared. They groaned or lay unconscious with bandages, stitches or tinctures hung up absurdly on coat hooks. Several gazed at her with defeated eyes as she cast about for the young cleric. She eventually found him in the bathroom with a shivering Mara. He looked over his shoulder at the intrusion, only for his face to fall seeing Solvi’s expression. He got to his feet and rushed past her, retrieving a hot water bottle from its place near the kettle. He filled it as he walked, placing it against Mara’s body with a worried expression.
“Renaud has returned. He’s bleeding badly.” Solvi managed to say, her voice stolen at seeing Mara’s condition. The cleric turned to Solvi with pleading eyes before they overflowed with tears. The man had been working for hours upon hours, long after the traumatic events of the day had concluded in the injury of another medic. “Tend to Renaud. I’ll keep her warm.” Solvi spoke with a firm voice, squeezing Arthur’s shoulder as comfortingly as she could. The other man pushed his tears behind him and nodded, clapping a hand on Solvi’s back as he ran past her. The jangling of tools behind her told her that Renaud was in for an unpleasant evening. The older orsan woman suppressed the hope that he'd ran out of pain suppressants a while ago and tended to her patient.
As she laid her hand on Mara’s neck, Solvi felt the clammy flesh beneath as if it were an ice sculpture. She felt as if she had walked into Annun and left her warmth there. The warm water Arthur had bathed her in seemed to be doing nothing to alleviate the shivering, almost convulsing tremors wracking Mara’s body. Solvi felt panic rise against her reason as she beheld these facts, swallowing against the dryness building in her throat. With shaking hands, she slid the hot water bottle into Mara’s robes, knowing full well that it would do nothing. The orsan woman wracked her mind to think of a solution. Why hadn’t Arthur been using radiant energies to counteract the necrotic poisoning? What did he know that she didn’t?
“Listen to me, you ingrate. Your pack mule is dying because of something I know you made her do. If you don’t help her now, then by the gods I will find a way to kill you again.” Solvi threatened the spirit she’d heard Mara talking to. Not because she thought he could do anything but because she needed someone to blame in this moment. Someone that wasn’t herself. “I hope you’re suffering just as much as she is, if not more.” Solvi snarled, investing her hand with radiant energies in sheer desperation. With a solemn determination, she fed the radiance into Mara’s unconscious form in a desperate attempt to invigorate her. Nothing mattered save for that single thought in that instant. Saving Mara.
There was silence for a few moments after the infusion. No shriek of pain nor dramatic recovery. Solvi began to gather her limited strength once more, prepared to expend magic enough to render her unconscious if she had to. It was only as she prepared this second infusion that Mara’s mask began to effuse with such copious amounts of black mist that Solvi began coughing. The cold black claws of the mist raked at her throat and made breath come like congealed soup into her lungs. Yet even as she staggered back to escape this suffocation, the mist reared towards the ceiling. It began to reshape itself, forming into a vaguely humanoid shape with two fiery pits for eyes. It reached out with an accusatory hand, as if to throttle Solvi.
“What have you done!?” It demanded in a savage voice. A voice tainted with arrogance and a vicious rage at being denied. Solvi dove beneath the creature, hauling Mara from the bath with a protective cry. The creature vainly attempted to swat at Solvi, only to find its form quickly disintegrating. It attempted another impotent attack, only to be repelled by the modest radiance in Solvi’s hand. The creature’s burning eyes affixed Solvi with a hatred so pure and undiluted that she could have sworn it was a demon. With a death rattle, the creature faded from view rather than face Solvi’s untested magical prowess. The orsan woman saw to Mara, only to find the woman propping herself up against the wall of the bathroom with a groan of pain.
Solvi could have laughed herself hoarse, sobbed into fits and scolded Mara seventeen ways all at once. She settled for a gasping sobbing laugh that escaped almost involuntarily. Seeing Mara move under her own power caused the larger woman to enfold her into a hug so tight that the mage practically squeaked with discomfort.
“Ribs!” She called with frantic hand motions, prompting Solvi to release her with an apologetic smile. The two sat in silence for a few moments, the last wisps of that creature’s horrible darkness dissipating from Mara’s mask as she took laboured breaths. Already, the practiced hand of a medic made sure Arthur had accounted for injuries he couldn’t feel through her robes. With satisfaction, her mask’s eyes turned to meet Solvi’s. “Nobody made me walk into the land of the dead.” Mara admitted with a small, rueful voice that scarcely sounded like her own. Small in volume perhaps, yet weighty in the effect it had on Solvi. She sank back, resting her shoulders against the lip of the bath. A twisted pit formed in her stomach as she realised the true gravity of this confession. She could hardly process the information, faltering speech escaping her every so often.
“Do- Do you value yourself so little? Or my input at all?” Solvi stammered out after considerable efforts. A look of incredulity had etched itself into every inch of her face. For the first time, Mara’s actions seemed entirely inscrutable. Since having met her on that dark day in the war, Solvi felt as if a whole new person was sat before her. “What could possibly have justified this? Power? Wealth? Fame? I didn’t think this was you.” Solvi said, Mara bowing her head and refusing to answer for what Solvi assumed was shame. Although the second her admonition left her lips, Solvi regretted the reaction it incited in Mara.
“This was me. Not the ghost, not Renaud, not my insecurity.” Mara hissed with her bared teeth audible beneath the mask. Solvi was taken aback by the snapping head movement that accompanied the proclamation, eyes widening in shock. “The Crook of Arawn is the power of a god. Who wouldn’t be tempted? Especially when the power that maimed you is at its beck and call. The risks I will take, the price I will pay to break this mask and shed these robes do not have numeration nor constraint.” Mara’s voice effused itself with passion, a biting edge to every word. Solvi could only exhale hopelessly, passing a hand over her forehead.
“At no heed to the cost? What if you’d died?” Solvi asked with tired eyes, hands placed upon her knees. She could feel the sorrow well within her yet this time she could not find it within herself to sympathize. A kernel of rage had planted itself, seeing Mara enter the tear. Now, hearing her justification, it had begun its blossom. “There are people who love and care for you, mask or no. You refuse to take it off around me despite your constant piteous cries to do so!” Solvi’s anger was stymied somewhat by the sorrow, yet she felt both most keenly in that one utterance. No sooner had it left her lips did she came to regret it.
Mara simply sat there in silence for a prolonged period before Solvi lifted the woman from the floor and deigned to bring her weakened body to rest on one of the precious few comfortable spaces for the injured. Wrapping Mara tightly in a blanket, Solvi’s conflicted emotions bled through to her expression.
“If my piteous cries disturb you so, I’d recommend finding someone who returns your affections.” The biting words came as Solvi turned to leave, causing her shoulders to tighten reflexively. They held for a moment before releasing as if forced to. As she left to find space in the other caravan, the metal stranger was the only one to see hurt raking its claws through Solvi’s expression.
Chapter 10
As the woman’s minions closed in on the party, she emerged from the darkness into the wan light of Renaud’s orbs. She moved with precision and grace that spoke to her training as a mage, sending a chill through the party as they realised the magnitude of her talent combined with ruthless underlings. She wore tattered robes weathered on the roads of Phasia, her bandoleers worn and cracked by many years’ exposure to the elements. Her gaunt and sun-drenched appearance did little to dissuade their anxiety. Yet as her form came fully into the light, Renaud shied away in disgust. Her face, though plain with a dark green eye on one side, was heavily marred by scars so terrible not even Solvi had seen the like. Her other eye was whiter than snow, knitted with blade-trail scars that descended to her cheek. Or rather, where her cheek once was. Her face had been mutilated, with the teeth of her right jaw visible through the stringy network of sinews that had come to be her face below the eye socket. Yet it was not the scarring that invoked fear in Solvi, it was the determined gleam in her eye.
“I do not know what brought you to this place, Renaud.” She spoke in a gravelly, dry voice as if she hadn’t tasted water for decades. “But I would have you explain to what end you seek these temples.” The woman then drew herself up, turning her scarred cheek to the man in defiance of his disgust. He looked about himself for a moment before noting Renata’s fearsome glare. Their eyes met for the moment and an understanding passed between them. He then looked up at Solvi with solemn eyes, unbuttoning his robe as he went. The scarred elf woman lowered her hood, revealing tresses of curled white hair which she began to tie back. Solvi then understood what Renaud intended to do.
“Take my sana. Take the Crook. Take them both far from here and this woman.” Renaud, dropping his foppish bravado, appeared to Solvi to be speaking from the heart for the first time in his life. He pulled his staff into a readied position after depositing his robes on Mara’s prone form as an improvised blanket. “As to you, Ranva, it is high time I cleansed your stain from this world.” Renaud’s face then set itself in a malicious scowl which Solvi took as her notice to leave. As she and Arthur began bounding past the demonic minions of this woman, they found themselves protected by shots from Fred’s rifle. With a crack of bone and spray of blood, the demon’s hand became nothing more than a memory as it reached for Arthur’s head. Renata utilized the little strength she had left to grasp one of the coils of the serpent and throttle it in flaming fists. All the while, Mara’s unconscious form jostled within its sling.
Renaud observed the distraction of his opponent and slammed the butt of his staff against the ground with a crackling detonation. Ranva refocused her gaze in time for her world to blacken. With no light, she cursed and attempted to summon her own to no avail. Then, the sinister laughter of Gaius Renaud informed her of the danger she’d bargained with. All about her, flaming edifices of buildings erupted from the darkness. Within them, she heard victims screaming for succour, pleading with invisible captors. Her breath caught in her throat and her teeth bared against this trickery. Then, as she frantically searched for her minions in this hellish vision, she saw him. Renaud stood atop the singed and blackened remains of a fountain or sculpture, foot resting upon its head.
“To command demons is a fine thing. But I command the senses themselves.” Renaud chuckled, his form merely vaporizing from existence as Ranva cast a bolt of lightning at him. She realised her mistake as one of her servants shrieked. Only then did Renaud allow her to see its smoking remnants fall from the walls of the illusion. “I was tempted to make you destroy all of your lackeys. Fortunately, I had like-minded help.” The ephemeral voice of Renaud taunted from all about her. Realising her advantage, Ranva attempted to dispel the magic. Her success, only partial, allowed her to see a strange metal person pull two blades mounted on their arms from the carcass of her demonic servitor. It hissed something vaguely elvish at her before escaping the room altogether as the illusion closed in once more.
Outside, Solvi was dismayed to find that the woman had brought not only impish servants but also the bandits to harangue the dig team. Many, former soldiers, had formed defensive barricades about the caravans. Albrecht stood atop them, waving his sword and slicing into any who dared approach. His faithful, ever dutiful to the elvish people, huddled behind him with feeble swipes of their swords as valorous defence. The dead and dying lay about the platform with lesser demons and bandits perusing their finds rather than helping a crowd of their fellows shout taunts and jibes at the defenders. Into this chaos, Solvi imparted the stretcher to Renata’s hands and lofted her halberd menacingly.
Just then, a grey blur emerged from the temple screaming indistinct elvish threats of some kind. Their blades came crashing onto anything that did not resemble a mortal, sending sprays of ash in their wake. Solvi motioned the group to follow, Fred shooting bandits that dared encroach on their path. They had the grizzled grit of veterans for even a well-placed shot did not deter their movements. Realising that reinforcements had arrived, they crowded themselves into the ravine’s exit and began to lock their shields. The metal person did not seem to care a wit for the creatures of flesh and had busied themselves by employing the arm-mounted swords of their body against the imps besieging Albrecht.
The mad dash of the players in this tragedy to their places gave Albrecht the opportunity he needed. With a ferocious cry, he leapt upon the fleeing bandits and laid about him with his sword. As one attempted to crawl to safety, he felled the man with a curled lip. Seeing the party returning, he waved the group down and directed his Army to form a line in case of counterattack. The bandits continued to hold position as the groups reunited, more concerned with their quarry escaping than the last stand of a ragtag band of veterans.
“Where is Renaud?! They have the numbers, but the fools practically announced their attack. Clumsiest approach I’ve seen in decades.” Albrecht shouted to Renata, indicating with a finger to the smoking remnants of Solvi and Mara’s caravan. Renata, no tactician by any means, shook her head in disbelief before the barking of an alleg attracted her attention. Albrecht followed her gaze with a wicked grin. “They allowed us the asset of our animals. I intend to punish them for that mistake. Well, punish them more.” Albrecht laughed then with sadistic glee, whistling to his underlings. At the command, they began filing into the two remaining caravans whilst a party of ten mounted their wotlings. Renata didn’t see fit to question this as she began hurrying over to comply with Albrecht’s madcap plan.
“He elected to stay behind to deal with the demonologist. They appeared to know each other.” Renata shouted over her shoulder as she squeezed into the caravan’s spacious interior. Solvi and Arthur scurried to Fred’s wagon, laying Mara upon the table whilst upwards of ten people squeezed into it shortly thereafter. Space became a luxury as Fred and Solvi took to the driver’s seat through the window. The pair of them shared a look with Arthur who had busied himself with triage of the injured. Arthur looked to Mara with a hopeless shrug of his shoulders, instructing several uninjured people to keep her steady as he worked. Rather than attempting to heal with radiance, he sought to draw the necrotic energies from her body. With that, perhaps, she could at least regain consciousness and tend to her wounds in a less painful way. With the care of the injured in good hands, Solvi took the reins whilst Fred wedged a box of ammunition between his knees and cocked his rifle.
Just as the survivors were set to leave, Solvi looked across the platform to see the mad metal person dispatching imps that crossed their path indiscriminately. Lost for words at this person’s savagery, Solvi moved the wagon into position before leaning over the seat to shout for the creature’s attention in broken elvish. She made a motion with her hand for them to follow, only to find them taking a running leap onto the caravan’s roof. Rolling her eyes, Solvi nodded to Albrecht who stood ready beside his wotling cavalry.
At Albrecht’s command, the wotlings and their riders charged ahead of the caravans. Their pistols shot fiery projectiles at the huddled shields of the bandits. Many shots simply bounced off the shields with characteristic cracks and flashes. Some found their mark and a shield would collapse from its place in the wall. At first, the wall appeared to be ready for this charge as a few pikes bristled outwards. Yet Albrecht did not renege on his course. With a series of crashing detonations, the wotlings impacted the shields. Pikes desperately attempted to drive back anything they could impale while Albrecht’s soldiers toiled with their sabres. The bandits were not typical ruffians and at the sounding of a whistle, the line behind them refreshed those soldiers who had been enduring the brunt of Albrecht’s assault. Unable to sound the retreat for a fresh charge, Albrecht rode from the front line and came to stop next to Fred and Solvi as they began their loping up the ravine’s exit.
“They could stay there all day if they wished! Tell Renata we need a magical intervention.” Albrecht commanded, attracting a raised eyebrow from Solvi. She looked to Fred, who’d nested his rifle to his shoulder and was busy cursing these inane tactics. Charging a high ground choke point, he could scarcely imagine a more defender-sided engagement. Perhaps Albrecht would like to gift them some battlements? Maybe a crenelation or two? Perhaps some artillery wouldn’t go amiss since the bandits seemed to be having trouble.
“Sod yer magic! If you want somethin’ done right, call a bloody Skitti.” Fred growled, scurrying back into the caravan. After shouts, swearing and a few wayward fists, Fred emerged with the excavation tools salvaged from the dig. He rummaged through the crates for a few minutes, looking over his shoulder at the Army’s ill-fated charge. “Alright fancy boy you’re in luck. Someone ‘ad the same idea I did.” Fred cackled with triumph, pulling some unassuming looking brown paper tubes from the crates. Quickly and with his sharp teeth, he bit several lengths of fuse cord and began winding them together. With a free hand he pulled a tinder and flint from his overalls, tossing his pipe into the caravan behind him. “You an’ your uppity band better ‘ope my throwin’ arm’s still good.” Fred babbled, hopping astride Albrecht’s wotling to the latter’s visible discomfort. Fred seemed too distracted with tying the tubes together into a stable bundle to notice as the pair took off up the ravine’s exit towards the flagging front line. Solvi took some rope from the crates and hastily bound herself to the seat, knowing all too well what the explosives would do to animals as easily spooked as allegs.
From her vantage at the foot of the ravine, she saw the smaller figures of Fred and Albrecht struggle as Fred climbed the taller man’s shoulders. Solvi’s eyes widened as she noticed the lit fuse trailing smoke from Fred’s hand as he flung it with all his might behind the enemy lines. Apparently, Solvi wasn’t the only one who noticed for the Army lines broke shortly afterwards, racing towards the temple. Albrecht careened towards the caravans with Fred ludicrously clinging to his neck. Shortly after, as the bandits touted their victory with cries and insults, the passage behind them erupted with a catastrophic detonation. The sides of the ravine shook, and bandits were sent flying onto the ground as rocks fell from the top of the ravine. Solvi didn’t even need to entice her alleg into motion as it urged itself into a panicked run. Unable to turn quickly, the alleg did the first thing it could and bolted up the ravine followed by its fellows. Solvi felt immediately thankful for her rope harness as she was practically flung from her seat with every stray rock or body they flew over.
Exiting the ravine, as it transpired, was not the key difficulty of their escape. Not only were the imps who had survived the metal creature’s wrath giving chase, but the treacherous switchback roads down the mountain were now a terrifying race between caravan and allegs as one threatened to outstrip the other. Fred was there once more, tying a stretch of rope to several points along the caravan’s bulk. Solvi looked at him with terrified curiosity as he gave two thumbs up, tying the other end of the rope to a grappling hook. Solvi looked ahead to see the burnt-out towers of the bandit checkpoint. Swiftly, she put the parts of Fred’s plan together.
“You’re absolutely insane if you think this’ll work! It’ll tear the caravan apart!” Solvi hollered over her fear and the rushing wind. Fred gave her a look as if he hadn’t heard as he raced ahead with the wotling’s speed to hook the grapple against the interior of the wooden tower. Solvi, possessed by her fear, forgot she had access to a halberd blade and tried desperately to manhandle the rope free of the caravan’s chassis. Her rope harness made the task difficult while her fear drove that difficulty to impossibility. Before she knew it, the long rope took all slack and sent the caravan rocketing around the corner of the switchback. Fred was there once more, giving Albrecht a crack on the back of his helmet with the tip of his rifle. On command, Albrecht severed the rope. The caravan, now free of its tether, continued careening down the pass whilst the allegs desperately attempted to slow down its breakneck pace. Solvi, sensing the creature’s distress, signalled to the metal person who had resorted to embedding their swords into the wood of the caravan to keep gripping the roof. She tried giving instructions in limited elvish only to be greeted by no response. The metal creature climbed from the roof, holding their hands open in surrender whilst their swords retracted into their forearms.
“Veth?” They asked, before appearing to have an idea. With arm sword extended, they took the end of the rope Fred’s escapade had engendered and set about tying it to the crate of dig supplies. A sturdy construction, the strange being proceeded to angrily shake the open crate beneath the noses of terrified passengers until Arthur seemed to get the gist of their instruction. He began placing everything of weight into the bags, trying not to think of the many trees flying past their windows at an alarming rate. Once the crate was filled to the stranger’s satisfaction, they hefted it with difficulty from within the caravan and onto their shoulder. With visible stress, they seemed to be awaiting their moment. With low tones, they invoked the names of the gods and hauled with all their might to send the crate careening into the woods next to the roadways.
Nothing happened for a split second save the caravan beginning to list heavily against the rope. Then, with a panicked shriek from the allegs, the caravan banked onto two wheels and the creature was left paddling its feet impotently on thin air. As the turn approached, the rope grew taught once more and for a blessed moment it appeared as if the same trick would save them again.
The rope snapped. For that moment, the metal stranger and Solvi shared a look of sheer panic. Then, the two of them seemed to realise something together. With a swift strike of their sword, Solvi came free of her harness and the two jumped from the driver’s seat onto the tilted roof of the caravan. With a shared nod, the pair flung their weight against the caravan’s careening side. That small act in the briefest of moments seemed to tip the balance, causing their bound allegs to slam to the ground and send the caravan sliding along the muddy terrain. Solvi, her legs tucked against the roof, held onto the quaint roof tiles for dear life as their alleg anchors began to slowly by surely drag the caravan horizontal to the road. With a bang that sent the rocks of a dry-stone wall careening down a cliff face, the caravan came to rest with its broken wheels turning slowly.
There were no words or proclamations, only relieved wails, hysterical laughs and silent solidarity. The survivors of their expeditious retreat crawled from the strange caravan gingerly, careful not to upset its precarious balance. As they all came to stand on firm ground, the strong among them began to right the caravan with rope and hooks procured from the crates. Those initiated in the old ways of orsan magic tended to the allegs, becalming their frantic stares and alarmed barking. They were still some ways from the bottom of the mountain, causing several of the dig crew to take to replacing the broken wheels. After some time, Arthur emerged from the caravan with a strained expression. He appeared pale, attracting a curious look from Solvi. The large orsan woman was busy resting her aching body after the terrors of their escape. The strange metal person had vanished, moving silently through the thick woods in search of their infernal prey.
“I had the strangest interaction with Mara.” Arthur observed, seating himself on the ruins of a once proud dry-stone wall. “I was tending to her wounds, attempting to remove some items of clothing to check for injury. Yet before I so much as touched the buckle of her mask, she grabbed my arm and forbade me. Said it wasn’t my secret to learn.” Arthur continued in a neutral tone, yet Solvi had known the man peripherally long enough to sense his troubled mind. He looked at his hands, frown weathering and almost ageing him in the moment. “She said it with such aggression that I could scarcely believe it was her.”
“Mara’s been acting very strange since she took the job from Renaud. She got even stranger around this particular project.” Solvi grunted, a bitter hint entering her voice as she considered Renaud’s influence on her roommate. “When we were up in Lemuria, at the Archmage’s Council, she was the picture of confidence. Now, she’s-.” Solvi faltered, as if searching for the right word. She pinched the bridge of her nose, wearily setting eyes on the caravan. “Her confidence is hollow. It rings like the words of a braggart or man at the bottom of his cup.” Solvi motioned awkwardly and held up her hands in surrender at her lack of poetry. She was not the intellectual her mother had wanted nor a brave warrior.
“It’s a far cry between arrogant insecurity and maliciousness. Truly, I’ve known the woman since I was a child. She valued my father and his father’s input. Now, she is reckless.” Arthur pursed his lips and shook his head, smiling at his own words for a few moments. Solvi affixed him with a glare that he could only shrug in response to. “I often think that she does not have opinions. Merely what she feels someone expects her to say.” Arthur grinned over at Solvi, who appeared intriguingly pensive. The look caused the young man to drop his smile nearly instantly, tilting his head in anticipation of Solvi’s thoughts.
“Mara feels the weight of expectation greater than most. She would speak with me in the camps about her pedigree, her station as the first sana of Renaud. It is something we share. The disappointment of our elders.” Solvi reminisced, her mind slipping back once more to those dark days where her world became four small walls and a wrought iron door. When the pain of her shoulder grew so great, she could not pretend otherwise, Mara would appear at the door. And they would talk. Arthur did not comment, instead employing a small smile as the workers on the caravan cheered and clapped each other on the back. Their transport had once more been repaired. And with a sombre mist falling with the sun, they once again began their journey to Yanhelm.
When next they came to rest, the survivors were in the Benam Forest. They had chosen to hide under the trees to escape marauding imps that still searched for them on leathery wings. Renata’s wagon had joined them later, travelling much faster without the need for repaired wheels. She had used what little magic she had to suppress the emotions of her allegs. They had been far more compliant as a result. The two caravans had taken shelter in a rocky glen that had two exits, both of which were blocked by Albrecht and whatever volunteers he could muster. Many Army members after their first taste of real battle had shrunk into themselves, leaving the veterans to fill the ranks. Solvi, Renata and other survivors sat sullenly with suspicious eyes for the darkness around them. They clung to one of the small fires that had been lit by the survivors to cook their meagre rations. Fred, ever diligent, had taken to scouting the surrounding woodland with the metal stranger who seemed to have a personal vendetta against any and all fiendish entities. Arthur, handicapped by his patient’s specific requests, had taken to siphoning what deleterious energies he could from Mara’s body.
It was shortly after moonrise that the forest about them began to crack and rustle with several footsteps. Solvi immediately got to her feet, eager to skewer yet more scaly bodies on her halberd. Renata, beyond her means to cast spells, retreated behind Albrecht who drew his sabre in defiance of whatever came for them. It wasn’t until several strident whistles came in three distinct notes that Solvi allowed herself to relax. She whistled in return, spying Fred’s small form emerging from the undergrowth. He motioned with a paw behind him for the metal person to follow. Shortly after he descended the steep bank into the cleft, skirting past the caravan that had been placed as a barricade, his companions made themselves known.
Emerging from the forest, the metal person carried upon their shoulder Renaud’s broken form. His clothes were ragged, torn by claw and tooth alike. He seemed barely conscious, blood staining his shirt and trousers. His suspenders had been repurposed to a tourniquet on his upper arm. It was clear that his battle with Ranva had been ferocious, and that she had intended to kill. Renaud had his teeth bared with the pain, the metal person calling in elvish. Solvi needed no translator and ran to fetch Arthur.
As Solvi entered the caravan, she was greeted by a sight all too familiar. Rows of prone bodies lined the floor or crowded the bunk beds Fred and Arthur shared. They groaned or lay unconscious with bandages, stitches or tinctures hung up absurdly on coat hooks. Several gazed at her with defeated eyes as she cast about for the young cleric. She eventually found him in the bathroom with a shivering Mara. He looked over his shoulder at the intrusion, only for his face to fall seeing Solvi’s expression. He got to his feet and rushed past her, retrieving a hot water bottle from its place near the kettle. He filled it as he walked, placing it against Mara’s body with a worried expression.
“Renaud has returned. He’s bleeding badly.” Solvi managed to say, her voice stolen at seeing Mara’s condition. The cleric turned to Solvi with pleading eyes before they overflowed with tears. The man had been working for hours upon hours, long after the traumatic events of the day had concluded in the injury of another medic. “Tend to Renaud. I’ll keep her warm.” Solvi spoke with a firm voice, squeezing Arthur’s shoulder as comfortingly as she could. The other man pushed his tears behind him and nodded, clapping a hand on Solvi’s back as he ran past her. The jangling of tools behind her told her that Renaud was in for an unpleasant evening. The older orsan woman suppressed the hope that he'd ran out of pain suppressants a while ago and tended to her patient.
As she laid her hand on Mara’s neck, Solvi felt the clammy flesh beneath as if it were an ice sculpture. She felt as if she had walked into Annun and left her warmth there. The warm water Arthur had bathed her in seemed to be doing nothing to alleviate the shivering, almost convulsing tremors wracking Mara’s body. Solvi felt panic rise against her reason as she beheld these facts, swallowing against the dryness building in her throat. With shaking hands, she slid the hot water bottle into Mara’s robes, knowing full well that it would do nothing. The orsan woman wracked her mind to think of a solution. Why hadn’t Arthur been using radiant energies to counteract the necrotic poisoning? What did he know that she didn’t?
“Listen to me, you ingrate. Your pack mule is dying because of something I know you made her do. If you don’t help her now, then by the gods I will find a way to kill you again.” Solvi threatened the spirit she’d heard Mara talking to. Not because she thought he could do anything but because she needed someone to blame in this moment. Someone that wasn’t herself. “I hope you’re suffering just as much as she is, if not more.” Solvi snarled, investing her hand with radiant energies in sheer desperation. With a solemn determination, she fed the radiance into Mara’s unconscious form in a desperate attempt to invigorate her. Nothing mattered save for that single thought in that instant. Saving Mara.
There was silence for a few moments after the infusion. No shriek of pain nor dramatic recovery. Solvi began to gather her limited strength once more, prepared to expend magic enough to render her unconscious if she had to. It was only as she prepared this second infusion that Mara’s mask began to effuse with such copious amounts of black mist that Solvi began coughing. The cold black claws of the mist raked at her throat and made breath come like congealed soup into her lungs. Yet even as she staggered back to escape this suffocation, the mist reared towards the ceiling. It began to reshape itself, forming into a vaguely humanoid shape with two fiery pits for eyes. It reached out with an accusatory hand, as if to throttle Solvi.
“What have you done!?” It demanded in a savage voice. A voice tainted with arrogance and a vicious rage at being denied. Solvi dove beneath the creature, hauling Mara from the bath with a protective cry. The creature vainly attempted to swat at Solvi, only to find its form quickly disintegrating. It attempted another impotent attack, only to be repelled by the modest radiance in Solvi’s hand. The creature’s burning eyes affixed Solvi with a hatred so pure and undiluted that she could have sworn it was a demon. With a death rattle, the creature faded from view rather than face Solvi’s untested magical prowess. The orsan woman saw to Mara, only to find the woman propping herself up against the wall of the bathroom with a groan of pain.
Solvi could have laughed herself hoarse, sobbed into fits and scolded Mara seventeen ways all at once. She settled for a gasping sobbing laugh that escaped almost involuntarily. Seeing Mara move under her own power caused the larger woman to enfold her into a hug so tight that the mage practically squeaked with discomfort.
“Ribs!” She called with frantic hand motions, prompting Solvi to release her with an apologetic smile. The two sat in silence for a few moments, the last wisps of that creature’s horrible darkness dissipating from Mara’s mask as she took laboured breaths. Already, the practiced hand of a medic made sure Arthur had accounted for injuries he couldn’t feel through her robes. With satisfaction, her mask’s eyes turned to meet Solvi’s. “Nobody made me walk into the land of the dead.” Mara admitted with a small, rueful voice that scarcely sounded like her own. Small in volume perhaps, yet weighty in the effect it had on Solvi. She sank back, resting her shoulders against the lip of the bath. A twisted pit formed in her stomach as she realised the true gravity of this confession. She could hardly process the information, faltering speech escaping her every so often.
“Do- Do you value yourself so little? Or my input at all?” Solvi stammered out after considerable efforts. A look of incredulity had etched itself into every inch of her face. For the first time, Mara’s actions seemed entirely inscrutable. Since having met her on that dark day in the war, Solvi felt as if a whole new person was sat before her. “What could possibly have justified this? Power? Wealth? Fame? I didn’t think this was you.” Solvi said, Mara bowing her head and refusing to answer for what Solvi assumed was shame. Although the second her admonition left her lips, Solvi regretted the reaction it incited in Mara.
“This was me. Not the ghost, not Renaud, not my insecurity.” Mara hissed with her bared teeth audible beneath the mask. Solvi was taken aback by the snapping head movement that accompanied the proclamation, eyes widening in shock. “The Crook of Arawn is the power of a god. Who wouldn’t be tempted? Especially when the power that maimed you is at its beck and call. The risks I will take, the price I will pay to break this mask and shed these robes do not have numeration nor constraint.” Mara’s voice effused itself with passion, a biting edge to every word. Solvi could only exhale hopelessly, passing a hand over her forehead.
“At no heed to the cost? What if you’d died?” Solvi asked with tired eyes, hands placed upon her knees. She could feel the sorrow well within her yet this time she could not find it within herself to sympathize. A kernel of rage had planted itself, seeing Mara enter the tear. Now, hearing her justification, it had begun its blossom. “There are people who love and care for you, mask or no. You refuse to take it off around me despite your constant piteous cries to do so!” Solvi’s anger was stymied somewhat by the sorrow, yet she felt both most keenly in that one utterance. No sooner had it left her lips did she came to regret it.
Mara simply sat there in silence for a prolonged period before Solvi lifted the woman from the floor and deigned to bring her weakened body to rest on one of the precious few comfortable spaces for the injured. Wrapping Mara tightly in a blanket, Solvi’s conflicted emotions bled through to her expression.
“If my piteous cries disturb you so, I’d recommend finding someone who returns your affections.” The biting words came as Solvi turned to leave, causing her shoulders to tighten reflexively. They held for a moment before releasing as if forced to. As she left to find space in the other caravan, the metal stranger was the only one to see hurt raking its claws through Solvi’s expression.
