The skyrider scowled at him, shaking her head once more. It was comfortable to be tucked up against him so she resumed the same seat resting her head in the curve of his shoulder. She wrapped an arm around his back for balance and tried to distract herself from the tingling sensation spreading through her fingertips. The last time it had been a full day before Simon had succumbed to poison. She’d survived it well enough for hours after, only passing the taint onto Malcolm in the night. Her head pounded and flashes of red and black darted in her vision. Elyna tried to focus on her own breathing and when that failed to keep her interest, concentrated instead on the steadier sound of Malcolms’ heartbeat.
Why had it hit her so badly? He spoke to her when her lids felt heavy to keep open and she would respond, forcing herself to step out of the lull of sleep. But it would have been easier to rest, every time she stepped aside the drag of slumber, her arm hurt more than it had before. Sharp pricks of pain replaced the fizzing sensation. She curled her arm over her chest, holding onto the opposite shoulder as it eased the sensation and slowed the spread, as though she’d broken the bone, she held it as if it was in a sling. She tried to work out why again, was it a stronger dose? Had she really lost so much weight it had hit her faster?
Perhaps the warning had been her inability to argue when he carried her into the infirmary. Simon, she remember his humour and the way he and Ronald had tackled her, tumbling her into the icy river. She remembered the shouts and groans of pain he’d made and she flinched, half-dozing. He’d been in agony when they’d arrived in Krom. She’d not been able to visit him before he died. Had that hurt too? Then what came next? She tried to remember the journey in sequence and smiled to herself. Her gaze turned on the Captain and her smile extended to him before she frowned. Self-preservation was pulling her under. She had to wake up, she couldn’t go to sleep. She clawed her way back to consciousness and gasped as the pain hit fresh. Her arm was on fire. She gripped her shoulder as tight as she could manage and shut her eyes, trying to block it out. When she managed to draw breathe she shook her head, fast “no, NO!” The young woman forced herself to look at the Captain, “d-don’t you dare…” tenfold he’d said. He’d take the pain tenfold. Tenfold the poison? No. She wouldn’t have him suffering again, not on her behalf. They could never explain it either, they’d seen him carrying her in. They’d seen her wound, they’d know. She curled her fingers in his.
“How did you get so tall?” She frowned at him “what did they feed you? Do you really not want me to come with you anymore?” She sounded hurt, and she was. She hated the idea that he would send her away, “I don’t want to be left behind. What if you need me? What if you don’t come back?” She kept talking, the words coming breathless as she struggled with the agony. Sleep beckoned again, sweet, blissful, painless sleep. It was so tempting to simply give in and drift. Why fight anyway? Magic could happen in the realms of Emea.
Why had it hit her so badly? He spoke to her when her lids felt heavy to keep open and she would respond, forcing herself to step out of the lull of sleep. But it would have been easier to rest, every time she stepped aside the drag of slumber, her arm hurt more than it had before. Sharp pricks of pain replaced the fizzing sensation. She curled her arm over her chest, holding onto the opposite shoulder as it eased the sensation and slowed the spread, as though she’d broken the bone, she held it as if it was in a sling. She tried to work out why again, was it a stronger dose? Had she really lost so much weight it had hit her faster?
Perhaps the warning had been her inability to argue when he carried her into the infirmary. Simon, she remember his humour and the way he and Ronald had tackled her, tumbling her into the icy river. She remembered the shouts and groans of pain he’d made and she flinched, half-dozing. He’d been in agony when they’d arrived in Krom. She’d not been able to visit him before he died. Had that hurt too? Then what came next? She tried to remember the journey in sequence and smiled to herself. Her gaze turned on the Captain and her smile extended to him before she frowned. Self-preservation was pulling her under. She had to wake up, she couldn’t go to sleep. She clawed her way back to consciousness and gasped as the pain hit fresh. Her arm was on fire. She gripped her shoulder as tight as she could manage and shut her eyes, trying to block it out. When she managed to draw breathe she shook her head, fast “no, NO!” The young woman forced herself to look at the Captain, “d-don’t you dare…” tenfold he’d said. He’d take the pain tenfold. Tenfold the poison? No. She wouldn’t have him suffering again, not on her behalf. They could never explain it either, they’d seen him carrying her in. They’d seen her wound, they’d know. She curled her fingers in his.
“How did you get so tall?” She frowned at him “what did they feed you? Do you really not want me to come with you anymore?” She sounded hurt, and she was. She hated the idea that he would send her away, “I don’t want to be left behind. What if you need me? What if you don’t come back?” She kept talking, the words coming breathless as she struggled with the agony. Sleep beckoned again, sweet, blissful, painless sleep. It was so tempting to simply give in and drift. Why fight anyway? Magic could happen in the realms of Emea.