• Mature • [Treth] Living and Dying

[Quio]

Off Topic

Bonus experience approved by Jade, to be given to the following character(s) involved in this thread, only upon the completion of the review, where the character(s) demonstrated celebration of the holiday, Celebration of Ancestors, on Ashan 120th, Arc 717. The details of this this holiday include: The ancestors that gave life and love to Ne'haer are celebrated this day. Be they the people that birthed the civilians, the architects that forged the buildings or the brave soldiers that gave their lives to protect Ne'haer - all are celebrated on this day.

Bonus Experience Upon Review Completion:
Knowledge
Ne'haer Holiday: Celebration of Ancestors
+2 Bonus Skill Points
Free Item: A pendant of the coat of arms of Ne'haer given to you by a soldier who lost their family in the Vhalar attacks of 716. This item cannot be sold or given away.

120th of Ashan, 117
morning

Since all that had happened at the last festival, Quio had reluctantly found himself unable to leave Treth. There was a feeling, distinct in his heart, that hid within his loss and anger and fear: a feeling of business unfinished. He felt he could not leave Treth until either the man he was after left, or he figured out some way to forgive a person who had done him such grievous wrong.

Yanaqi herself apparently had no such qualms with leaving, and left she had. She was gone from the small town and had been for a few trials now. Where she had gotten off to Quio didn't know. He had tried speaking to her through the pearl seashells that U'frek had given him, which he had realized in seasons past were some sort of communication magic. Using the seashells, Quio could speak through one side and whoever had the other --in this case Yanaqi-- could hear and speak back. But no matter what he said into his side of the seashells she had not yet answered.

If it was anyone else he would have been worried. As it was Yanaqi, she had likely ditched the shell someplace in favor of taking an animal form and had gone off. Perhaps into the sea or the wilds. He was certain that when he least wanted her she would come back.

Until then, he was trying in vain to enjoy the time he had alone. Except while only days before he had yearned for time by himself, upset that Yanaqi was ever constant, and had even demanded a break from his sister the murderer, now that she was gone
--and Hart was gone too, forever taken from him-- well. The Yludih found he was extremely lonely. His heart wept to feel so alone.

Even more so on this of all days.

The people of Treth were once more holding a holiday, this time a celebration of ancestors. Only this arc, after the events of last fall, the holiday seemed to feature those who had died in the war over the the founders of the surronding cities. It was a holiday for the lost and dead.

Quio knew well what war did. He had seen it with his own eyes and felt it with his own heart.

Though it was daytime the festivities, if they could be called that, gave the impression of being held in the dark of night. People were quiet; only the drunks, commemorating their fallen, made any sort of raucous noise. Soon enough even they had been quieted. Children had sung at the cemetery, performing a short, sad melody while the assembled crowd had gathered and listened, dressed in their finest dark colors, midnight and grey and black.

Quio had stayed well back from the rest of the crowds, feeling he was an intruder upon something sacred, but he had caught some of the words.

In fields of sacrifice heroes paid the price
Young men who died for old men's wars, gone to paradise~

At that moment, the assembled crowd was so silent they could have heard a leaf falling from a tree.

After the cemetery most of the people had dispersed, but a few stragglers remained, setting up candles and offerings to both the ancestors and their gods around individual grave sites. Quio had hung around. Inexplicably he felt drawn to the cemetery. It was a place of death. He didn't know why but it called to him.

Now he sat quietly at an unmarked grave, one of many that had been raised up in memorial to those who had not been found after the war but were presumed dead. It was made of the same white stone that had formed the walls of Ne'haer and which had made up the small cottage he had lived in as a boy. In some ways it was a grave for all who had been lost without closure.

Quio, watching the others who set up their tributes, wished he had brought something to offer the dead. His mother had liked wildflowers and Hart had liked many things, but for some reason Quio kept thinking of twine. He put a hand up to the necklace of simple string and stone that had been Hart's promise to him, like the one that Quio had given Hart in his own promise. They had promised to live their lives together. They had promised love. And they had had it, for many arcs.

He supposed he should be grateful for the time they'd had, just as he should have been more grateful for the years he had spent in the woods safe with his mother, but he felt so lonely. So lonely.

Like a child he wondered why people, especially good people, must die. And why the wretched must live on.

Off Topic

Lyrics used are from Requiem for a Soldier

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"

[Tei'serin Nji'ryn]

Once again, Tei'serin's thoughts turned to Zera, the woman she had known so briefly, but who had made such a strong impression on her. This was a trial where families drew together to honor their ancestors. Those who were related to the founders of Treth spoke with quiet pride of their ancestors, and the things they accomplished. Those who were related to someone else of note to the village did the same. A leader who had done something of merit. The person who had crafted the first school bell. A farmer who had given freely of his bounty when others had lost their crops to some natural disaster. It mattered not. This trial was dedicated to those that came before, and those who existed now honored them in their own way.

Tei'serin's own ancestors were from a far off land she had never seen. And the ancestors of the man she had called father had called no one land home. Their home had been the sea, and the ships that carried them across it in their travels. She knew nothing of her Sev'ryn ancestors, and little of the Biqaj ancestors that had produced her adopted father. So instead, her thoughts turned to a woman who had given her life to a cause that Tei'serin didn't fully understand, and probably never would. The shadow beasts that had plagued Treth and Ne'haer had only been a small symptom of a much bigger war among the Immortals. Tei'serin didn't know what they had been fighting over, or why it was important, and she knew that she likely wouldn't understand it even if she did. She was content with that. But the fact that Zera had died far from home, sacrificed to a cause that likely had little meaning to any mortal...that bothered her.

Had Zera ever learned why she had to die? Did she suffer, or was it a quick death? How long had she lain wounded on the battlefield, knowing she was dying before she finally lost the struggle to live? Tei'serin's imagination was far to willing to paint any number of horrific things her friend might have endured. Dying alone, and in terrible agony was featured in most of the scenarios her mind came up with. But she would never know for certain. All she knew for certain was that her body was lost out in that icy wasteland somewhere. The few survivors who had managed to make it back home had been unable to bring her body with them.

Like many, Tei'serin had taken a candle when one was offered to her. But rather than gravitate to a specific grave, as many of the villagers had, her feet took her to an unmarked grave; a memorial to those who had never made it back home. A man stood there, looking as lost as she felt. Tei'serin hesitated, not wanting to disturb him. But as she watched, she realized that she knew the man...sort of, anyway. She had met him at an earlier festival when he had needed help to find someone who worked for Thorin.

"Who do you mourn, if you don't mind my asking?" she asked softly.

[Quio]

What were the chances of them running together again like this-- and suddenly, with the war fresh in his mind, Quio remembered. He remembered her not only from the earlier festival but also from the war. "You," he said faintly, then, realizing he had said it aloud, laid a hand on the top of the grave and turned towards the girl who had approached him. Tei'serin Nji'ryn, he also remembered her name.

He tried and failed to keep the sadness from his face and voice.

"I just remembered," he explained briefly, "You were at the war of immortals. You," he struggled to recall, so much of his memories were a wash of confusion and bright spots of blood and fear and rage, "You were a healer." His mouth twisted slightly. "I was not. I killed in the war. I should be remembering-- I should be honoring those who died," should be honoring the people he'd killed, "but I can't." He turned back towards the grave and answered her question softly. "Instead I remember my lost love. And I remember my mother." He took a deep breath to steady the sudden threat of tears in his voice.

After a moment he had composed himself enough to ask, "And-- and you?" As he glanced over at her he tried to figure out what kept bringing them together, was it fate? They had both been in the war. But certainly it was just coincidence; this was a small town and she must have noticed him, one of many in the crowd. Perhaps she had seen him alone, like she had at the other festival, and thought to offer her kindness.

After a brief hesitation Quio reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a ring made of pure glass or crystal. Small enough to fit on his pinky finger, but he did not put it on. Tei'serin might recognize it; he had taken it from the man Tedrik, the one Quio had confronted at the festival of performers last they had met. He held it up for her to see now, feeling oddly naked at the gesture. Showing her this was like showing her a piece of his mother's soul.

"It was my mother's," he said, just as softly as before. Not usually so open, but he was so alone and she had reached out to him. She had spoken to him for a reason. "I have nothing to give the graves. But I have this." And yet. "Yet I cannot bury it here. It doesn't belong here. But it needs to be buried." Only as he said it did he realize it was true. He had been carrying the ring around since the last holiday, some fifteen trials ago, and the entire time he had felt something. It was not a good feeling, it was a sickness, like a hollow pit in his stomach. He felt haunted by the knowledge of what lay in his pocket.

The ring needed to rest.

"I think it belongs in the Willow Woods," he said. Glancing past the low cemetery wall towards the countryside, and beyond that the forest. He had not lived too far away from here as a boy. Outside the city, where it was safe for people like him. "We used to live out there, my mother and me. But she was killed. That man Tedrik was involved. I never," he swallowed. Again the threat of tears. He shook his head. "I never got to say goodbye. I think I need to now. It is time."

But he didn't want to go alone. "Would you--" he began to ask, but abruptly fell quiet. Eyes downcast towards the ground. Would you go with me? What was it about this girl? First before, and now as well. What did he think she could do to help him?

"Nevermind," he said. Instead, once more he asked, "Who are you here for?"

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"

[Tei'serin Nji'ryn]

Tei'serin frowned in confusion when Quio said "you," then stopped. She what? Tei'serin started to ask, but before she could, he continued. When Quio told her that he had seen her during the war, she looked at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Had she seen him in that icy nightmare, too? Had she, perhaps seen him among the wounded in the healing tent before it burned? She didn't know. It had been too chaotic.

Quio mentioned that he had fought there...killed there. Tei'serin couldn't even imagine what that must feel like. In her mind's eye, she could see a vague image of what she thought a battlefield might be like. Utter chaos. People fighting for survival more than for any cause they might have had when the fighting began. Screams of agony from the wounded and the dying mingled with the clash of metal against metal. Concepts of right and wrong fading into nothing in the face of kill or be killed. This man had survived all of that. Tei'serin didn't think she could have had she not found her way to the healer's tent instead.

"Yes, I was a healer during that war." she said at last.

"Not that I was of much use there. I work with herbs, and those were in short supply. Even if we had plenty, the people who came to us for healing needed far more than a simple herbalist could provide."

Tei'serin's eyes darkened as she remembered how utterly helpless she had felt in the face of the terrible injuries the warriors who were brought in for healing had suffered from. She gave a bitter, self depreciating laugh.

"If you have a cold, or allergies, or a headache, or a simple sprain, I know what herbs can help with such things. All the herbs in the world couldn't help with the kinds of injuries I saw in that healer's tent." she added quietly.

Quio started to ask who she was remembering this trial, but he seemed to stop himself. When he pulled out a ring, Tei'serin looked at it curiously. Quio had taken it from Tedrick when they had found him in the tavern during Performer's Day. At the time, she hadn't thought much of it, simply assuming that Tedrick had stolen the ring from him. But now, he explained that the ring belonged to his mother; one of the two people he was remembering this trial. Then he went on to explain that he had once lived nearby, out in the Willow Woods with his mother, and that Tedrick had somehow been involved in her death. The last did not surprise Tei'serin; Tedrick was a violent man with a dangerous temper. Although she had not known for certain that he had killed before, Tei'serin didn't doubt for a trill that he was capable of such a thing. The man seemed like he would enjoy taking the life of another.

"I remember my family. They died when I was little. And I remember the birth father I never knew, and wonder what kind of man he was. He must have been a good man if my mother loved him. But mostly, I remember Zera."

Tei'serin paused.

"It's strange, really. I barely knew her. I was teaching the trial a group of people decided to go to Ne'haer, and help them fight the shadow beasts that suddenly seemed to be everywhere. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I got caught up with them. Before I knew it, I was in a carriage heading towards the city despite the fact that I don't know the first thing about fighting. Zera was one of the warriors who was going to Ne'haer. Had we had more time, I think that we could have become friends. As it was, she took pity on me. She taught me a lot during the trip to Ne'haer. And she understood why I couldn't fight with them when we arrived. She was the one who pointed out the healer's tent to me, and suggested I go there rather than sticking with them. That was the last time I saw her. It wasn't until I got back to Treth that I learned that she wasn't one of the lucky ones who had survived. Not many of those who went to Ne'haer came back."

Tei'serin fell silent for a few trills, her hand tightening into a fist briefly before she sighed, and forced it to relax.

"Sometimes I wonder how she died. Knowing the truth couldn't possibly be worse than all of the horrible things I imagine might have happened. All I know for certain is that one of these empty graves belongs to her. Her body was never brought back home to rest."

She glanced at Quio, struggling with herself for a few trills.

"You said that it was time for you to say goodbye to your mother. And that her ring should be buried. Then you started to ask me something."

Tei'serin hesitated. It was none of her business. It was safer if she kept herself to herself, and did not interfere where she was neither needed, nor wanted. And yet...this man seemed to need something of her. Perhaps he needed someone to witness as he said his goodbyes to his mother? Or perhaps he needed the support of someone...even a stranger to help him through it. And if that were the case, Tei'serin wanted to help. There was so little peace in her own life. If she could help someone else find peace in theirs, then she wanted to do so.

"Do you need someone to come with you while you say goodbye to your mother? If that was what you wanted to ask, then the answer is yes." she offered softly.

[Quio]

Tei'serin had had her share of sadness. She spoke of how useless she had felt in the war, something that resonated with Quio as he had felt much the same way. Unlike the young woman, however, he had chosen his path. U'frek had called him and Quio, more Biqaj than anything else, had been eager to go to the war, to serve the Biqaj god of the sea... though at that time Quio had not known it was a war he was going to. U'frek had only said to follow.

Had he known what was going to happen to him he would have denied the only god he'd ever loved.

The ship he had boarded at U'frek's command, the Humble Son, had been attacked en route to Ne'haer, and somehow Quio had been turned into one of the shadowbeasts. In a rage he had hurt the people around him. After he had come back to himself there had been no rage, only shame and self-doubt, feelings which he would carry long after the battle for Treid's heart had ended, just as he carried the sickle-shaped scar on his shoulder. To this day he did not know why he had been chosen by U'frek only to be the one to betray.

At long last he said, "I'm sorry you lost Zera, even if you didn't know her well. I'm sorry she couldn't be buried." He knew firsthand how painful it could be to have someone go and never come back. Not knowing what had happened to them. If they had died quickly, or in great pain.

His mother's death had been the same. Perhaps Hart's too.

"You said that it was time for you to say goodbye to your mother. And that her ring should be buried. Then you started to ask me something." Quio looked back at the ground. He knew what Tei'serin was going to say even before she said it. "Do you need someone to come with you while you say goodbye to your mother? If that was what you wanted to ask, then the answer is yes."

"I do," he said, the words coming more heavily than intended. He could not deny that that was what he'd wanted. What he'd almost asked of her.

What he was asking of her now.

"Would you come with me?" he said in a soft voice, knowing she had already agreed.

---

It took a good while for them to reach the secluded patch of woods that surrounded Quio's childhood home, and though some of the journey was spent in silence --Quio seeming withdrawn somehow, and full of dread-- some of it, too, was spent in snippets of conversation. In the beggining Quio had not spoken unless he had been asked, but after a half-break or so, during which he seemed to be gathering his nerves, he began to talk slowly in Rakahi. Letting Tei'serin know that he would translate any words for her that she wished.

He figured it was a simple enough payment for all the good she had done him thus far.

The walk was a long one and winding, though Quio remembered the path perfectly. For a while they were on the main road which lead from Treth to Ne'haer. Then they turned onto a smaller path for wagons and foot traffic that reached out deep into the countryside, north to the farmland. And finally, once they had passed a dozen or so farmhouses, they turned once more, this time onto a deer path that disappeared every few steps only to reappear again further along. On this path they traveled eastward and northerly towards the distant Willow Woods.

By the time they began growing close, the suns overhead had crept well past noon.

At the edge of the forest Quio paused and for the first time in a long time fell completely silent. He seemed to take measure of the woods, listening and breathing deep, before giving a small noise of affirmation. He nodded which way to go and then, with a final deep breath, stepped off the little deer path and into the forest proper. He led the way, seemingly without falter, through the brush and trees, though if he was following a path now or merely a memory his companion could not be sure.

To Quio the forest looked much the same, even after all these years.

Ten bits in they crossed into a denser thicket of trees, which then, after a few bits more, began to gradually thin. Evidence of logging was clear in the area even as secluded as it was, and as the Yludih's gaze steered them on their course he couldn't help but slow to take notice of things he hadn't realized had been left behind so very long ago. There, in a nearby a tree, was a spile. Below it was a bucket. Not too far away, nearly buried in the grass, was a rusted old ax.

He moved on.

And then, perhaps suddenly for how long they had traveled, they were there.

The sparse treeline dropped away and a small, peaceful meadow was revealed, fringed by thin birch forest on three sides and on the fourth a rocky hill. Now at the precipice Quio stopped, taking in the sight before him.

It was his home.

White rock sparkled in the sunlight, the ruins of the cottage he and his mother had lived in, now washed free of soot and showing no trace of the fire that had brought the small building's walls and roof tumbling to the ground. To Quio the stone looked like polished bones in a heap, and though it had long been picked for all its valuables there was no sign that anyone had been here of late. Quio could see the places that the forest had begun to creep in on the remains, retaking the quiet little space in Moseke's name.

Looking at it now, with the birds chirping in the brightness of spring, it looked... it looked peaceful. It looked innocent, in a way. Today the sky was bright with no remembrance of the smoke that had stained the snow, and the forest was splendorous. The sunlight broke through the trees as it did through the clouds above, and each piece of greenery down to the smallest leaf seemed vibrant and alive, refreshed by the recent rain.

The wind picked up, carrying with it the scent of the grass and faraway pine and for the first time Quio felt some sort of easing, however minute, of the grief within him.

And that was when the arrow struck.

There was the sound of something fast zipping through the air, like the buzz of a hornet's wings, and then abrupt quiet. A moment later Quio stumbled forward a step. When he looked down the tip of the arrow stuck out of his chest, jutting through his body and the front of his shirt. The beginnings of silver blood began to wet the material around it.

He staggered forward another step and turned towards Tei'serin.

As he did so, he realized that he was bleeding, and badly-- not just the silver false blood of the Biqaj, but the Yludih life-light that shone silver, yellow, and pink in bright rays from the wound. He took a faltering breath, perhaps preparing himself to speak or cry out.

Then the second arrow hit.

This one took him deep in the side, under the first, and he heard something then from back in the forest, a whooping, coughing sort of laughter, the cheering of multiple men. The sound was getting closer. Hearing it Quio moved to walk, perhaps even run, and instead went to one knee on the ground. "Run," he panted, unable to get the breath to scream, and then a voice from the forest called out, "Don't you think about going anywhere. We have you now."

Were the words directed at Quio or had the man seen Tei'serin as well? "Run," Quio barked out, louder now, "Hide, run," and then had to stop and curl around the arrows that punctured through him, focused only gasping through the pain.

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"

[Tei'serin Nji'ryn]

"So am I." Tei'serin said simply when Quio sympathized with her over Zera's death.

"I didn't know her for long. And it's not like I knew her well. But I will never forget her." she said quietly.

It was strange how Zera's death affected her more than the loss of her own family. Perhaps it was because it had happened so long ago. Or maybe it was because she she had been so young when their ship sank. It could even simply be the fact that she knew how they had died; she had closure with her family, where she would never know for certain how Zera had died. But as much as she missed her family, losing them no longer hurt as much as losing Zera did. She had come to terms with their deaths.

Tei'serin was relieved when Quio changed the subject. It seemed that she had been right about him wanting her to go with him when he buried the ring. When he asked, she gave him a reassuring smile, and nodded. As they walked, Quio indicated a willingness to teach her some Rakahi, and Tei'serin leaped at the chance. She asked to learn basic words such as 'yes,' 'no,' 'please,' 'thank you', and 'I'm sorry'. From there, she moved on to simple phrases like 'how much does this cost,' 'how do I get to...,' and 'I don't understand.' She asked him about counting up to a hundred, and the names for the different types of nel in Rakahi. Then she asked about directional words such as 'up,' 'down,' 'right,' 'left,' 'center,' 'above,' and 'under.' She also wanted to know about the names for different colors. Finally, she asked for the names of different plants and animals.

She didn't have any paper that she could take notes on, but she repeated each new word she learned many times in the attempt to commit them to memory. In return for teaching her some Rakahi, Tei'serin offered to teach Quio some Common if there was anything he wanted to learn. Although he spoke it fairly well, he had mentioned being able to understand more than he could say. And as a teacher, Tei'serin was more than happy to help him learn if he wanted to.

When they reached the clearing where Quio's house used to be, everything looked peaceful. The forest was slowly reclaiming the clearing now that people no longer dwelt there, as it should. Tei'serin glanced at her companion in silence, looking to take her cues from him. She had offered to come to support him, after all. If he needed someone to witness him burying his mother's ring and offering silent support, then she could do that. If he needed her to say something, Tei'serin would do that as well. Though, if that were the case, she would need him to tell her what he needed her to say because she didn't know him well enough to figure it out on her own.

Tei'serin was just starting to wonder if she should ask Quio what he needed her to do when a strange sound rushed towards them. It sounded like a hornet's wings. She looked around warily, fearing that they might have disturbed a hornet's nest, but that didn't seem to be the case. There were no swarms of hornets attacking them the way there would be had they stumbled over a nest. Tei'serin looked up at Quio just in time to see him stumble forwards a bit.

Bright silver blood began to stain his shirt, pooling around an arrow that was protruding from his chest. For several trills, all she could do was stare in wide eyed fright at the arrow. Who had attacked them? And why? They were alone in the clearing, so where had the arrow even come from? Silver, yellow, and pink light seemed to erupt from the wound in bright rays. Was it some kind of magic? And if so, what kind? Was it Quio's magic, or their enemy's?

Tei'serin had seen far too many people die in the healer's tent. She wasn't about to stand by and let Quio die in front of her. That determination carried her towards him, but hesitation slowed her steps. What could she do? She knew herbs, not how to deal with a wound like this. And even she could tell that it was far too severe for her healing ability to work on. Then there was that strange light. Was it hurting him? Healing him? Would anything she tried to do make things worse instead?

Her hesitation saved her as a second arrow whistled through the air. It pierced Quio deep in the side, under the first arrow.

"Quio!" she shouted in alarm.

They needed help. Tei'serin wasn't even certain if she should remove the arrows or not. But she was painfully aware that if she did the wrong thing, it could kill him. Quio told her to run as he dropped down to one knee. She didn't want to leave him. She really didn't. But they needed help, and she didn't think that it was a good idea to move him. Tei'serin hesitated, torn by indecision.

Then the decision was taken from her as Tedrik stepped out from among the trees, followed by several other men. She recognized some of them as working for Thorin, but some were strangers. They were surrounded. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. Tedrik was a brute of a man, but he was as fast as he was strong. Even if she did try to run, she knew she'd never make it. Tedrik would catch her before she could get far, and if he didn't, then the man holding a wicked looking bow probably would.

Tedrik leered at her. Tei'serin knew that look. She had seen it many times, and it never meant anything good. She felt sick with fear, but that didn't stop her from trying to protect Quio. She moved in front of him defensively. Tedrik laughed. He knew as well as she did how meaningless a gesture she had made. She knew nothing of fighting, and was badly outnumbered. If the men pressed her...and she knew that they would, then she wasn't going to be able to protect anyone.

"Might as well take her, too, Tedrik. The girl might be worth something."

Tedrik didn't reply. But he made a small gesture with his hand, and the man who was holding the bow took aim. A third arrow sailed through the air before Tei'serin's frantic mind could even begin to guess what the man's stance might mean. Agony exploded in her right shoulder as the arrow embedded itself in her flesh. She screamed in agony and dropped to her knees, making the men around them laugh.

Something snapped within her. Tei'serin grabbed the arrow firmly, and yanked it out of her flesh. The pain was nearly enough to make her black out. She felt light headed, and sick, but panic and determination gave her strength. Blood flowed steadily from the wound as she brandished the arrow at their enemy. Tedrik's eyes narrowed in anger at her attempt at defiance.

"Take them." he ordered coldly.

[Quio]

Tei'serin hesitated, not for long, and it was over. The men stepped out of the trees, breaking to either side to surround them, and then there was nowhere for either of them to go. "No," Quio gasped, trying and failing to get to his feet, and then trying again. He struggled and Tei'serin stepped in front of him. The men laughed. "No," he said again, and though he could feel the arrows shifting inside him, grinding against the crystal of his body, he forced himself to stand.

He wasn't up for long.

There was no warning, just the rustle of someone behind him and he couldn't turn in time. Something hard, a fist or the blunt end of a weapon, clubbed him in the back of the head and immediately he went down to his knees. Only this time a boot shoved into his back, pushing him down flat to the ground. He tried to get up and only earned himself a kick in the ribs.

The boot hit the arrows in his side and one of them snapped in two as it drove further within him, a sound like breaking bone.

This time, Quio did scream.

He must have blacked out a trill because he opened his eyes and Tei'serin had been shot. "No," he mumbled, even as she ripped the arrow from her shoulder and pointed it at the enemy. She was going to provoke them and he struggled to move again, to get up, but another kick, this one to the shoulder, saw him stay down and stay still. Despite the young woman's efforts at defiance, most of the men had begun stepping closer. On Quio's side they loomed over him.

"Tei'serin no," Quio panted. "Let her go." Then louder, over the sound of the men laughing, "Let her go!" Now, specifically to Tedrik, and louder yet with agony, "I spared you!"

It was true. At the festival Quio could have killed Tedrik, killed him with his own hands or with Yanaqi's fangs. But he hadn't. He hadn't.

Looking around he spotted another familiar figure. The man he had talked to in Ne'haer. The one who had told him where to find Tedrik. The one who had begged, who had claimed some sort of perverse innocence. He had said he hadn't wanted to hurt Quio and his mother. He had said he was sorry.

That man was here. He stood nervously off to the side, and he wouldn't look at Quio. And he wouldn't look at Tei'serin either.

"I-- I spared you," Quio whispered, and then someone grabbed him by the boot, dragging him away from Tei'serin and whatever small safety she offered.

Three or four men gathered around him.

There was the time to try to kick out at one of them, to try helplessly to fight back, and then someone kicked him in the face. Stunned, Quio collapsed back.

Then they were hitting him, kicking him, punching him when they could, wailing into him from all sides.

Quickly enough after that everything went black.

---

They must have stopped beating him because he was still alive. Not awake, exactly, but alive nonetheless.

"Stand down, little lady," Quio heard one of them say. There was a hand at his scalp, pulling his head back, and the sharp press of something against the side of his neck. Not cutting yet but it could. It could. "Stand down or we'll slit his throat," the man said, and perhaps he was dead then because his consciousness faded entire.

---

He woke as they were carrying him through the forest. Still alive. A pair of rough hands were hooked under his arms, holding his upper body up; his feet dragged along limply behind. He saw a flash of the trees and tried to make sense of his body again.

He wasn't fully awake and yet he must have moved because someone caught him by the ankles and lifted his legs from the ground to keep him from kicking. After that he started to thrash.

Eventually they got tired of his struggling and someone grabbed the unbroken arrow in his side and twisted.

Shock.

White hot pain pierced him, pain like the sun, and his mind stepped back from its terrible brightness. He was half awake and half someplace else. His eyes fluttered as if to look away from the pain and perhaps he did. For a while longer there was nothing at all.

---

The next time he woke it was as they dropped him onto something, the floor, no, a cot. He was in a building.

Quio lay still, not breathing. If he breathed the arrow wounds in his side hurt too bad. To an outsider he would have looked dead. Except that he was still bleeding, faint light that trickled out with the silver blood from the deepest of his wounds.

He could hear men talking from outside the room, though his mind did not make much sense of their words. Maybe they were arguing. He didn't know.

Suddenly a door opened, and someone was thrust into the room and the door slammed shut.

For the first time in a while, Quio took a breath. "Tei'serin?" he asked. He tried to move, but groaned and put a hand to his side. He had to stop breathing again for a moment the pain was so great.

He found himself staring up at the ceiling. Wood. The whole building was made of wood and the room he was in was small and empty save for the cot, a table, and a couple chairs. There was a quilt on the wall and no windows.

A shack maybe. Or a small cabin, mostly bare.

He realized that the arrows had been yanked from his side. His face felt puffy and hot, crusted with blood, and all of him hurt like a bruise. He ached.

How much time had passed? He didn't know. He didn't know where he was. His head felt muggy and he wanted to close his eyes and sleep.

He blinked, and maybe he had slept because the light seemed a bit darker. He remembered there was someone else in the room.

"Tei'serin?" he asked again. This time trying to stay awake.

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"

[Tei'serin Nji'ryn]

Tei'serin's shoulder was bleeding heavily now that she had removed the arrow, and as her blood spilled, it took her strength with it. But that might not have been enough to stop her attempt at fighting back had the men not threatened to slit Quio's throat if she did. That combined with her growing weakness, and the cold realization that she had no chance against their attackers had her dropping her improvised weapon in defeat.

"Please, Moseke...you are the Immortal of life, not death. It seems wrong of me to ask you to end someone's life. Even so, I am asking you just that. Please end Quio's suffering quickly. His wounds are severe, and these men will not be kind to him." she murmured softly.

Although they were taking the trouble to take her and Quio alive, Quio's injuries suggested that they did not care much whether he lived or died. She didn't know what that light coming from the man's worst injury was, and hoped that it was some kind of healing ability; a stronger one than the one Moseke had given her. But even if it was, Quio was unconscious. Unless the ability was one that worked without his conscious control, it would be useless to him.

Tei'serin was less worried about herself than she was for Quio. Tedrik worked for Thorin. That meant that he knew what Thorin's wrath would be like should he kill her. So unless Tedrik had been given such permission, it seemed unlikely that he would kill her; make her wish for death, probably. But not actually kill her. She would likely be forced to "entertain" Tedirk and his men until they grew tired of her, and released her, or until Thorin came to claim her.

Tedrik wrenched the arrow from her grasp, and tossed it into the grass. Then he yanked her to her feet.

"We have what we came for. Let's go." he told his men.

The pain of being dragged along in a stumbling walk was nearly unbearable. Tei'serin closed her eyes, and tried to focus solely on her breathing. If she could enter a meditative state, it might help her with the pain from her injury. But she had lost too much blood, and the movement made meditation impossible. When the darkness rose to claim her, she fled into it gratefully.

***********************************************************************

Consciousness returned once more when the pain of someone jostling her injured shoulder jolted her awake.

"Hold her down. We have to stop that bleeding. She's no good to us if she's dead."

Tedrik's voice, cold, and calculating. The order was obeyed, and Tei'serin felt strong hands secure her arms and legs. Time seemed to be playing tricks on her, because it seemed as though it took forever for Tedrik to appear in front of her. When he did, he was holding an iron rod. The tip glowed red with heat. Her eyes widened in horror, and she began to struggle, but the men had her pinned firmly to the ground. White hot agony surged through her as he pressed the tip of the rod against her injured shoulder, cauterizing the wound. She shrieked in agony, and her entire body convulsed violently, but the men had a firm grip on her. After a few trills that felt like an eternity, it was over.

Tei'serin felt sick and light headed with the pain, but she remained conscious as Tedrik set the iron rod back in the fire place. When he returned, it was with a jar of salve, and some bandages. The scent of aloe vera filled the air, giving Tei'serin some hope that the man knew what he was doing. Aloe vera was good for burns. The yellow color of the salve suggested that calendula had been added to it. That made her nervous. Calendula was good for burns as well. It was also good for preventing infections, and it would help with the pain she was in as well as speed up the healing process for her wound...but she knew that it could cause a miscarriage if a pregnant woman were to drink calendula tea. Would using it in a salve put her unborn child at risk? She wasn't certain, and before she could protest, the salve had been applied, and Tedrik was inexpertly bandaging up her shoulder. The cooling sensation from the aloe vera provided a little bit of relief from her pain.

When her wound was tended, the men left the room. But the sounds coming from outside the door suggested that at least one of them were standing guard just outside. The salve helped with her pain a bit, but it was still hard for her to think clearly, so Tei'serin's mind began to drift. The yellow color of the salve struck her as being funny, and she giggled softly. It was as if they had spread butter or cheese on her wound instead of a healing salve. Calendula petals were often used to add color to butter and cheese, after all, so it was pretty much the same thing, wasn't it?

After a while, pain, and exhaustion overwhelmed her, sending her into the darkness once more.

************************************************************************

Tei'serin stirred restlessly as awareness returned slowly. Something had woken her...but what? Then she heard it again; someone was calling her name.

"Quio...?" she asked groggily as she tried to sit up, and look around the room.

Her shoulder hurt horribly, and the slightest movement only made the pain worse, so she tried to move it as little as possible. Had it really been Quio she had heard calling her? His injuries had been so severe the last time she had seen him, that she had been certain that she wouldn't ever see him again. Not alive, at least. But he was there, lying in the only cot in the room.

"I thought they had killed you..." she said softly.

[Quio]

"I thought they had killed you..." she said in a quiet voice, and U'frek save her. What had he done?

Quio was trying but it was hard to wake up. Everything was nebulous; his mind struggled, he was tired, and his consciousness kept trying to slip away. At once he felt weary, fuzzy, indistinct. More than that, he was exhausted.

He knew if he gave into rest he would see a glimpse of a crystal place, bright light above him, warm and restorative--

--but he knew that was not where he needed to be right now. He opened his eyes and looked over at Tei'serin. He needed to stay awake.

Keep looking at her, he thought.

How did she look?

Tei'serin was pale. Bloodied, bandaged, but above all else she looked young. He remembered when he'd first seen her in Treth. He'd thought her not much older than the children she had been there to chaperone.

And what had he done? He had taken her away from them that day. He had taken her to Tedrik. And later he had taken her from the graveyard to the-- to the grave. Because of him, she was here.

He let out a soft, pained moan.

When the men had attacked she had ripped the arrow out, a look of defiance on her face, and had Quio killed her? She'd been too kind to him and now she was hurt. And the men might hurt her more, hurt her again--

No.

Despite his injuries Quio shifted in place. As he moved he tried again, harder, to wrangle his suffering, sliding thoughts into something comprehensible. This time when he moved he did it in earnest, regardless of the pain; he moved as if to get up. It hurt. Like being shot through again. It hurt a lot. He weakened but half-formed thoughts, remembrances, and plain, strong guilt drove him on.

Gritting his teeth he took a sharp breath and heaved himself up.

Up.

Somehow he got into a sitting position.

He didn't know what he was doing, exactly, what he was going to do after he was up on his feet, but his legs moved, feeling clumsy, and he put his feet to the floor and turned to face the room as if to stand.

But whatever was driving him wasn't enough. He couldn't get the strength to his legs. Dammit, he thought, and wobbled, slipping, the wounds stretching as if he was going to tear them open and he had no choice but to sit.

As he collapsed back his breath left him in a whoosh and then immediately sucked back in. His face, already grey, turned incredibly, starkly white in the gloom of the enclosed little room. Raw, sweating dizziness overtook him even from such a simple effort, and his hands pressed to the wound on his front, which burned hot with a renewed starburst of bright energy.

Mind catching up with body, he realized moving had been a bad idea.

The men had not killed him but he was still bleeding, bleeding more badly now, and what the men hadn't done the bleeding might.

Maybe it was panic, or the simple urgency of the fresh burst of light against his fingers, but his mind felt fractionally clearer now, though the bloodloss and blood-squeamishness would soon wash that clearness away. He needed-- he needed help. Tei'serin was a doctor, no, an herbalist. Medicine-- normal medicine wouldn't work for him. But maybe she could do something. Anything. If she wanted to help.

"I'm Yludih," he said. It was the first thing he had to say.

"The light is-- the light is blood," he added next, taking a shallow breath in the middle. Sweat had formed a sheen on his brow.

Think. He needed to think.

He was bleeding away his life-light. Light didn't clot, so it would just keep bleeding and bleeding out from him. Yet he knew enough to know he needed to put pressure on his wounds. Why?

He tried to think. Tried to remember the lessons his mother had given to a young Yludih boy about basic first aid.

The light wouldn't clot, he knew that, but-- what was it?

But the false blood would. His body bled light but it bled something else as well, the silver Biqaj blood that was seeping out with his true blood from between his fingers. False blood worked like a human's blood, or a Biqaj's-- whichever race the Yludih had taken form. It was made up of trillions of little bits of crystal, infinitely fine; so fine they behaved like a liquid.

Those little bits of crystal would begin to slowly bind back together if only he could hold them tightly in place.

"C-Could--?" he asked, and reached out a hand towards the quilt he had noticed hanging on the wall. An incongruous detail in the empty little room, but if he could fold it, or, or rip it he could pack it to his wounds. Or even his shirt would do, if he could manage to peel it off.

"I'm sorry," he panted out then. He was still having to take gasps in between words in order to talk. "I didn't-- I didn't mean for this to-- I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

It was only after he had finished this apology that he looked at Tei'serin and realized that all that he'd said he'd been speaking in Rakahi. He fumbled to repeat the words again in Common, but they were coming more slowly than usual, and it was harder than normal to translate.

"Sorry," he mumbled again when he was done.

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"

[Tei'serin Nji'ryn]

Quio was hurt so badly that Tei'serin could hardly bear it. She wanted to help him...needed to help him. It was her job, after all. She was an herbalist, and her job was to help people. But there were no herbs here in the room they were trapped in. No medical tools for her to use, even if she did know how to use them. Which she didn't. She was helpless...as helpless as she had been to help the wounded that had filled that tent in an icy wilderness back in the war. She hated being helpless.

When Quio moved, it only made his injuries even worse. As she watched, bright light began to pour out of the worst one. That made Tei'serin's eyes widen in confusion as she couldn't help but stare. Light? Not blood? What in Moseke's name did that mean?

Quio told her that he was a Yludih, and that the light was blood. He had been speaking Rakahi, so it had been hard for her to figure out what he was saying, but she managed to puzzle through it by threading together the words she did know, and trying to put them in context with the rest. And Yludih was the same word in any language, as were the names of all of the races. At first, she simple stared in incomprehension. Then she remembered something she had read back when she was a child in school.

"Yludih...you're one of the crystal people!" she exclaimed softly.

There was no fear or revulsion in her voice as there might have been in someone else's. She remembered learning that the Yludih could change shape into anything that they wanted, and that most people feared and hated them because they were afraid that they would turn into them. Tei'serin had always been more curious than anything else. And maybe a little jealous. It must be nice to be able to turn into anything that you wanted to. You could turn into a giant bear to protect yourself if you were attacked, or you could just keep changing forms any time someone wanted to use you.

But there was no time for such thoughts right now. The light was blood, he had said, and judging by the looks of things, he was in very real danger of bleeding out...but what could she do? She knew next to nothing about treating the types of injuries that a doctor dealt with. She was an herbalist! And if she knew little about treating normal woulds outside the realm of herbs, she knew even less about treating one of the crystal people...no, the Yludih. She wanted to help, but how? She had no idea what to do for him.

It helped her understanding of the situation when Quio repeated himself in Common. It was nice to confirm that what she had tentatively puzzled out and guessed at was, in fact the reality of the situation. But that still didn't tell her what to do about it. Then he reached for the quilt that was hanging on the wall. She didn't know what he wanted it for, but if he wanted it, she would get it for him. And she did. Her shoulder protested bitterly at the movement, but she ignored it as best she could. That didn't stop a soft whimper of pain from escaping her, though.

Then something clicked. You could stop the bleeding of serious wounds by putting pressure on them...would that work if the "bleeding" was light, not blood?

"Tell me how I can help you." she begged him as she handed him the quilt he wanted.