Eikasia: Tributaries

TABLE OF CONTENTS

- Day and Night
- Dame
- Preconceptions
- Ghostly Palms
- Friend
- Sight
- The Truth Will Out
- Tributaries

Day and Night
...quietly...quietly...
i see you all.
but so apart
am i
spread apart:picked apart:far apart
am i
NYX____________________________
On a tower of metal and light, I saw the span of a great and perilous land.  Overhead, three small suns raged in the sky.  I was a shard of night beneath cold steel and rusted iron.
The wind rushed to me the scents of damp rosewood, fertile soil, pearled barley, bay leaf, musty fur, and chimney smoke.  Miscellany of a simpler life.  I crouched on the platform and the lids of my tawny eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun-lit Earth. The village of Toah lay in the valley below; it was a small and peaceful place, nestled like a babe amid those cold forests. Children played kickball near the horse stables and the women washed their laundry in the nearby stream.
Clouds rolled forth from the horizon reaching hopefully Westward as the storm before me fell over the village and claimed daylight in its smoky fingers.
With bandaged hands and sure boots, I climbed down the watchtower. This place would suit me fine. The rainfall would cover my trail and mask my scent, leaving the villagers ignorant as they cowered from the downpour. If I was good about it, a jug of mead would very well be part of the meal. My mouth watered at the thought of biting into the hen's neck--snapping it--the hot blood splashing over my parched tongue as I tore it apart. The thought of all I would be tasting almost made me fall out of the tower.
But my fatigue was making it harder to keep from slipping.
My feldgrau gambeson bunched as I fell from the last foothold and landed onto the uneven dirt, the shock of a twenty-five foot drop piercing up through the soles of my boots. A cloud rose at my feet--scents came with it--the typical wildlife smells: sparrows, local cats, rats, spit from a small boy who drank cider, as well as the faded smell of a drunkard's piss. To Toah, this tower was a place of congregation and socializing. I took a risk climbing it, but I had to see what I was to expect. My luck had not been good to me, and I didn't want to take the chance of running into a large dog or, worse, a small militia.
I brushed my dark hair away from my face and stood upright. I last cut my hair with a pair of shears found in a garden shed...but I had gotten clumsy and my bangs were now at an uneven slope, so that only one eye was covered and the other completely exposed. I couldn't wait for the hair to grow out so that I could mend my mistake. Even in a practical sense, it was annoying to march about the way I looked.
My brown cotton pants were baggy, and the seat of them molted with wear. My boots were dusty and worn, and the soles threatened to separate all together. I looked like a pauper, and that was all I could hope for, as people tended to ignore me. But I couldn't take all the credit for my appearance. My clothes had once been my mother's clothes. I came to acquire them when she passed away not long ago. It wasn't until the recent year that I could fit into them...and I did so awkwardly.
I could still smell her in the fabric.
I was tired from walking all day, and didn't wish to be seen by anyone, so I slinked off into the cover of the woods to find a berry bush and a soft patch of ground to rest on. I waited until the suns were out of sight before I came back again.
____________________________
Darkness. The new moon. I knew this even with the cloud cover.
I took off my boots and hid them near the berry bush, along with my other meager belongings. I had to take them off, or I'd tear through them.
Contrary to your assumptions, I am not a human.
Amid the bay trees, under the blanket of shadow that fell with Night's passing, I shifted.
Now you can take that word and dissect it. Pick it apart however you like. Peek under the definition and garner whatever idea you'd like from it. Did I shift position? Did I shift demeanor? Did I shift motive?
No. I shifted. I changed. I transformed. I, being one thing, became another. ...Or was always the 'one thing', and had only made it possible to gain a better perspective on the matter.
But shifting hurt. It always hurt. Payment to the One for use of her gifts. It led me to wonder...was my ability really inherent and unavoidable? Or just a privilege? If the latter was the case, could I renounce what I had? Would that make life easier? ...But something resisted this thought, and in me came up a feeling that tasted of anguish.
My skin rippled and tingled as--beneath--my muscles shifted and bones snapped and curved to their new places. The transformation always began in the torso and spread its way out all at once, debilitating me completely before it was done. The nerves screamed. The muscles felt like they were tearing, ripping, shredding themselves as I shifted. I bit the inside of my cheek. Fur sprouted along my body. From my tailbone sprouted a tail, which forced its way through a discreet opening in the seat of my pants. Blood pounded in my ears and hot-cold flashes ravaged me until all fell quiet. When I stirred I was on the ground. My clawed hands sought placement in the dirt and I pushed myself up from the ground like a drunkard stirring from sleep.
I tried to clear my head. Changing always left me face-down in the dirt. I tried not to think about the aches that lingered as I reoriented myself using my new senses.
Though dazed, my mind already perceived the world through a different view; eyesight became fuzzy around the edges and color became dull, but I could see better in the dark now, and farther into the distance; my ears had become large and pointed on either side of my head, and they twitched at the slightest bit of sound; my nose processed my surroundings, not missing a single smell; my whiskers, which sprouted from my fleshy chops, tickled with the changes of the wind; even my tongue was privy to relating information to my brain as I tasted the dampness of the air. Soon it would rain, and by soon, I meant in a matter of seconds. Sure enough, droplets of water began to fall from the heavens through the forest canopy.
I loved water. I tilted my furry head back and spread my mouth wide, and fat drops splashed onto my tongue. I was in what my kind referred to as the waxing crescent form--or 'near-human'. As I was, a person in the distance would perhaps only make out a very hairy person with bad posture.
The ignorant would call me a 'cat person'...but anyone who knew better would know that I was part of the Ailuran race. For my part, I tried to be quiet, cautious, and unassuming. For a little over a year, I worked hard to be in control of myself at all times--and in my solitude had gotten quite good at it. I knew when it was necessary to tap into my other self. The feline half. Not many of my kind knew how to do that.
Then again, not many had to.
My transformation complete, I slunk near the ground and my fingertips lightly touched the Earth. I panted a little. I felt excited. It wasn't often that I allowed myself to change other than the full moon. I flitted amain, down the slopes that dipped into the heart of the valley. By the time I entered the field surrounding the village, the rain came down in sheets. The water tried to repel me, and it pounded against my down-turned shoulders and furry head. The heavens overhead thundered and howled with a strong wind. I flattened my ears and bared my teeth.
I would not be deterred.
I came upon the village empty; all the denizens had retreated into their stone-wood homes, and warm glows seeped through the cracks of shut-up windows. With a cursory glance around me, I crossed the village square to the storehouse on the Western side. It was a medium sized wooden barn with no windows and only one way in. The double doors were bolted shut with a menacing padlock. I took my right hand's pinky, extended its thin sharp claw, and inserted it into the keyhole. After a moment's work, the lock opened and I pushed my way inside.
Over the years, through curious circumstances and a certain tendency toward rebellion, I had learned the various arts of thievery. As a child,  I had crept past town guards to go swimming at night in the local lake; had snatched back toys my brothers had taken from me in a fit of sibling rivalry; infiltrated areas where adults spoke of dire things children were not supposed to know. These days, my shady skills were used for more serious affairs. ...Like basic survival.
Bags of grain lined the floor and shelves inside the storehouse. I could smell the different kinds even without reading their markings. I plucked up two empty bags from a nearby rack and went to the grain sack that smelled of rice. With a scoop left on the rack, I shoveled enough into my bag to last a week. Deftly I tied it and slung the rice over my shoulder and went back out into the rain.  I locked the barn again. With luck, the villagers would never even notice what really had happened.
My mouth watered at what I knew would come next. My claws extended in anticipation as I stalked toward the hen house, the empty bag I held in my other hand swayed like an unfulfilled promise with the motion of my arm. Inside the little shack, the hens clucked and tutted. They probably sensed my intentions.
I went to the locked door and meant to open it, as I had done at the food store. But there was a gasp, barely audible over the rain, that made me halt in my actions.
With bared teeth I whirled around, arms up and crouched low, ready to spring away. A man in a heavy cloak stared at me, his face hidden by the dark of his hood.
What was he doing?
No one was supposed to be out. No one. Yet, there was my unhap. I had shifted in order to sneak better, to use my claws, to see better in the dark...but my new form made hunger my master, and my distraction coupled with the rain had prevented me from noticing anyone was near. He could've been out to search for something precious he lost, maybe to fetch a tool he needed inside, or to double check that the hen house was properly locked. No matter what the reason was, I knew...
I had to run.
My clawed feet dug deep into the mud, and I tore off into a panicked run. I vaulted over the wooden fence. Behind, I could hear the man let out a hoarse yell as he slopped through the mud to get help. Inside me, the animal half of my soul growled low at the denial of meat. In the state I was in, my human nature still reigned supreme, but I could better hear the discontent of the feline beast within me. She was not a brave or ferocious warrior...but she was hungry, and well aware that the man could've been taken care of with a powerful swipe from our paws.
I wasn't prepared for that.
I used my speed and agility to get me to the forest beyond Toah. I was on the other side of the village and would need to sneak my way back to the berry bush where I had left my other things. When I was deep enough in that I felt safe, I shifted back. Maintaining the waxing crescent form for a long period of time required a strong will. Without it, I would shift to my full form. I needed to keep quiet and focused--I needed to revert back to my "sapien" form.
The change back hurt just as much as it did the other way. I felt spent and nauseous, my limbs rebelling against me as I tried to rise to my feet. At first I only fell. The bag of grain I had spilled onto the wet earth. Normally after a shift, I would rest, fatigued.  Did I run far enough ahead that I could afford a few seconds to catch my breath?  No, I could not stop.
I forced myself up again, my body wet and my limbs feeble. I tried to keep steady as my vision lurched and I careened further into the forest.
I seemed to go on for some time, in a daze, trying to find a place that smelled of safety and comfort...but there was no such place. Try as I might, the angry call of those I wronged chased me quick and fierce like a monster all its own.
I plunged further into the darkness.

ELMIRYN________________________
She felt so small.
Small and quiet.
Against a plane of havoc wrought thinking, she dashed lithely between rows and shelves of contemplations, concentrating wholly on herself--her one true sense gone--breaking beneath the weight of silence.
Okay.
Not REALLY silence.
Just...none-speaking, none-moving, none-acting, none-changing. Static, punctuated by the rainfall. Gods crying. Who were they crying for?
Aw, who cares...
Elmiryn sat beneath the cover of the maple tree. Her spine was protected from the harsh surface of the bark by her leather bustier. Beneath she wore an opaque-white cotton shirt that helped keep out the cold. The sleeves stopped a little past her steel shoulder guards. Going up her arm were emerald thick gloves, fingerless. Over these were leather braces with steel plates to match the guards.
The area simmered and hissed with the sound of the rain as it poured through the canopy. Where she sat, she still was victim to some of the rain, but here it was not so bad. Here, she could whittle her little stick in peace, with eyes glazed, thinking...thinking...thinking...
...Thinking this stupid knife was dull.
Then came the heavy footfalls. Elmiryn's back stiffened and she leaned forward to gaze about with sharp cerulean eyes. The corners of her lips twitched, but her mouth seemed uncertain of itself. She sheathed her knife and rose to her feet, retrieving her bow and quiver from against the tree trunk. Quiet as a bog that crept through swamp, she went forward--over the roots and rocks and damp leaves.
Then she saw.
A vague shape, one that shifted and displaced the darkness, moved rapid through the forest; but its speed came from panic, and panic made it clumsy and careless. Whoever it was stumbled and nearly fell face first into the dirt. Elmiryn ventured closer and she strained to see. Water seeped into her eyes and left them dry and wanting, but she resisted the urge to blink.
A girl. It was just a girl.
The rain began to let up. Elmiryn could hear better--there was the tramp of boots as others gave chase. The warrior could see the amorphous shadow of the ragtag mob of farmers even from where she remained still, hidden behind a tree. "What are they doing?" She wondered with a soft frown. "It's raining, and there isn't moonlight to guide them... Why are they chasing this girl? What makes any of this worth it?"
Elmiryn looked back to where the youth had been only to see that she had resumed her fevered run.
With furrowed brow, the woman followed, running parallel with her quarry. Though clearly out of it, the girl was unusually quick. Interest piqued, Elmiryn picked up her pace so as not to be left behind.
The girl came to a small cliff where a rock, placed there by time, jutted out like a little plateau. She peered over the edge, her shoulders bunched, hands and fingers tensed in an unusual fashion.
Elmiryn again stopped just far enough away that the girl could not hear or see her. Her clear eyes, lit with an intensity, narrowed as the warrior tried to make sense of this peculiar scene. There was something about how the girl moved, how the others chased her that painted this entire situation as unique...or maybe...
...Maybe it was just that ridiculous haircut she had?
The warrior's thoughts were interrupted by a hoarse yell.
"There's the beast!"
Elmiryn's eyes snapped onto the group of men charging toward the small girl. "Farmers," she thought with a roll of her eyes, "They have no tact..."
She looked back at the youth to see what she would do. Fight or flight. If the woman's suspicions were correct, the girl would fight back or jump over the edge of the plateau. To Elmiryn's surprise, the girl held her hands up and fell to her knees. "Please!" she begged, her voice hoarse. "Please, I was starving! I'm sorry! I meant no harm!"
Jeers from the men. One particularly large man, apparently the leader, brandished his axe. "Filthy animal!" he thundered. He raised his weapon with both hands. The girl, startled, scrambled to her feet and retreated to the edge where she swayed.
Elmiryn's lips, which had twitched and quirked with her observations, finally seemed to make a decision of what to do:
She smiled, showing all teeth...

NYX____________________________
I was dead.
Dead.
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.
Or on my way to it. Being cleaved in half was synonymous with my demise, I thought. If I were to look up my end like it were an idiom in a scholar's text, I was certain I'd find, "To be axed; To be hacked; To be chopped, etc." Fear charged through me quick, like a viper strike. This was not as I had felt before. That was a stumbling, ignorant fear of the consequences. This, however, was fear for my life.
Aelurus, if I had fur, I'd have been a round ridiculous thing right then.
It made me angry too, I was surprised to find. I was cornered...by farmers. A fat thick man who probably never swung that damned axe on his own at home was about to take the sharp edge of it and whack it into my brain. That was unfair. I imagined something a little more...dignified. As dignified a way to go as anyone in my position--rueful as it were--could hope to have. Maybe dragged to death by a soldier's horse, or torn to pieces by werewolves, or crushed beneath a glacial avalanche...during summer...
But to be hacked to death by a peasant over grain and some scared hens?
The great oaf in question grinned victoriously amid the folds of his sweaty face. I was surprised he kept pace with the others. He wheezed and rasped as he tensed his arms, prepared to swing down the axe. I stood precariously at the edge of the plateau, aware of the other men that stood behind the fat farmer, blocking my only escape. My last hope, it seemed was to--
But that idea never finished.
I sailed through the air, and my wet hair whipped out a trail of rainwater as I spun right over the edge of the plateau. The fat farmer let out a squawk of surprise--as did I. I crashed into the Earth at a funny angle, and the breath rushed from my lungs. I tumbled like a rag doll down yet another slope, this one steeper than the one I had descended when heading to Toah. So steep, that I may as well have been falling through air. I burst through bushes in an explosion of leaves, and felt my limbs painfully clip tree trunks as I continued to roll. Finally, I came to the end of the slope and stopped face down.
Ye gods.
Everything hurt. My eyes rolled in their sockets and I tried to focus my gaze to make the world stop spinning. I spat the leaves and dirt out of my mouth and turned my head away from the ground only to see an arrow had been shot through my collar. I stared. It had narrowly missed my neck had gone completely through the fabric. The force of the arrow hitting must have been what sent me over the edge. Did one of the of farmers fire it? I tried to move to remove it, but screamed when I found my left shoulder was dislocated.
Therians, the species my race belonged to, had a heightened rate of healing, but for this I was going to have to do it myself.
With a grimace I rolled onto my back, in the opposite direction the side the arrow was on, and with my other hand, bent my dislocated arm. I laid it on my stomach; then with several quick breaths shoved my left arm upward at the elbow, using all the strength given to me by the One Goddess. It popped back in. No, that wasn't the proper way to do it, in case you're wondering--but I was on my own, with men after me--and at any rate, therians could take a lot and still walk away fine.
But to be honest, the pain still made me want to pass out.
Weakly, I snapped the arrow shaft and reached back behind my collar to grab the arrowhead. I stared at it. Pewter. I let my hand fall against my chest. My body felt cold. The damp ground made my clothes wet. My face, hands, and feet itched. They had been slashed and cut, but were all ready scabbing over.
I gazed upward at the forest canopy and imagined what it would be like if moonlight shined through. Cool, bless-ed moonlight. I imagined its silver kiss on my weary skin, where I could indulge in the idea that Aelurus would take pity on her wayward daughter. My eyes started to drift shut. This damp, cold place, where drops of water pelted my sham of a body was not something I cared to stay conscious in anymore...
Then someone lifted me up. My eyes opened blearily. I was thrown over a shoulder--an uncomfortable one that dug into my gut. The feeling made me alert again. I stared down at the ground as it steadily retreated from me. I could hardly believe it. I was going up.
My mind took a second to register the grunts coming from the person carrying me. I looked at their back and noted the curves, the criss and cross of thick woven strings through the back of a bustier, the tight-fitted leather pants that griped with the movement of determined legs...
Was a woman carrying me?
...Up a tree?
I squirmed, suddenly worried I was being spirited away by some lunatic who had drank one too many enchanted potions. My shoulder still hurt, but I didn't want to be in the hands of someone else. My protests turned to all-out struggles when the person didn't release me.
The person, whoever they were, only gripped me tighter and said, "Idiot. Keep still. I'm saving you."
I didn't listen. I took my uninjured arm and struck my elbow hard against the back of the woman's head. She sighed, but it seemed more like she were hissing through gritted teeth.
Then she shrugged me off.
By that time, we were at least twenty feet up a great old oak. As I fell through the air and saw how far I was from the ground, I thought blithely, "Wow. She's a fast climber." Then my fall stopped. My body jerked and I winced at the pain that shot through my still-injured shoulder. I could feel an iron grip close around my right ankle. I looked up in a daze.
Past the length of my body, I could see an auburn haired woman with light eyes smirk down at me. She held onto a piece of rope that was tied to a thick branch not far up. "Just kidding," she said. Her voice was melodic and like steel...just as the instruments to the south of Fanaea.
"Now hold still," the woman continued in a quieter voice, "And keep quiet. If you haven't noticed, your friends are coming."
I blinked up at her and slowly looked back toward the ground. I strained my ears. Sure enough, I could hear the farmers approaching, hear them grumbling amongst themselves sullenly. Not very subtle, these men, but I was so focused on the woman I hadn't even noticed their approach.
They came closer and closer. If I was dizzy before, I was even more so now. My head felt so thick with blood and pressure that I thought it would explode. One man came beneath the tree, and his eyes swept around him. My heart thumped. He looked up.
The woman's grip on my ankle tightened, if possible. She didn't need to warn me. The feline within knew better than to move when in hiding, even if a threat looked her dead on. I froze, even holding my breath, and closed my eyes.
It seemed to pay off. He passed on.
After another five minutes, the men conferred somewhere nearby.
"She's gone." One said insipidly.
"We'll never find her in this dark!" Another complained.
"What was it that hit her? Was it an arrow?"
"Do you think she died?"
"If so, we have no business left out here..."
"But that beast must be dealt with! She threatened our livelihood!" Ah. The fat farmer.
"It was just some grain, Humphrey. Hardly worth catching a cold over."
"And if she comes back?"
"Didn't you see her? That Ailuran was afraid. She won't be coming back so soon." Not ever, if possible.
"Let's go."
"Yes, let's. My unmentionables are frozen..."
When their footsteps faded away, I let out a sigh of relief. Then I felt myself rise. "Swing and grab that branch there." the woman said above me. Her bicep bulged from the effort it took to hold me up the way she was. I looked around and saw the branch she spoke of.
Warily I looked at her. "You won't drop me?" I asked, my words thick from the strain of being upside-down.
The woman seemed amused by this idea. "You think I would?" she asked in a jocular tone. "And even if I did, don't cats always land on their feet?"
I wasn't really in the mood for jokes.
Her other hand was occupied so she couldn't continue climbing until she wasn't holding me anymore. If I didn't try and grab hold of something, she'd eventually have to drop me.
Carefully, I stuck the arrowhead I was holding in my teeth, then I swung, holding out both my arms when I came close to the branch. The pain in my left shoulder had dulled to a dim ache. I grabbed hold of the branch, and the woman let go of me. My fingernails scraped against the bark for a frightening moment before finding purchase. I managed to pull myself up further and swing my left leg over. Exhausted, I took the arrowhead from my mouth. I was glad to have the blood rushing from my head. My eyes fell shut against the odd feeling this caused.
I was so tired...
Then I felt the branch quiver and my eyes opened to see the woman sitting across from me, closer to the trunk, her gaze a little too focused for my liking. She toyed with the rope in her hands, twirling the end of it around her long finger. My shoulders bunched like hackles raised, and I bowed my head with a guarded look. If I were a cat, my ears would have turned and flattened and my tail would have been lashing. "Who are you..." I asked in a low voice.
"Elmiryn," the woman said with a wide smile. Strands fell from her long braid and framed her angular face. She seemed like a maiden...but she wasn't. I breathed in deep. She smelled of steel--metallic and sharp. She didn't have her weapon, but she may have hidden it somewhere in order to deal with me. I could also tell she had spent some time in the forests as I could smell the maple, bay, and oak trees on her skin like the scents were a natural part of her. The Earth was a part of her.
It was almost like she was wild.
"For an Ailuran, you're awfully weird." Elmiryn said, humor in her voice as she leaned back against the tree. Her long mouth shaped into a smile that teased.
I glared at her. "What would your kind know about that?"
"I've fought Ailurans. They're prideful. Fiery. They would never kneel before farmers."
I dug my fingers into the bark and leaned forward. "And what sort of warrior are you? Firing arrows at helpless creatures the way you did?"
"You're hardly helpless," the woman returned with raised brow. She sighed and placed her hands behind her head. She was being rather lax around me...or did she just think she could take me on? "I'm a good shot," Elmiryn continued, "I saw my opportunity to help you and took it. If I didn't send you over the plateau, what would you have done?" There was something smug about her tone, and it irritated me.
I didn't answer. I couldn't even remember what my original plan had been. "No human makes that kind of shot in the dark. I just don't believe you." I snarled. I sat back roughly with arms crossed and turned my gaze elsewhere. This was body language. The cat inside of me was saying, "I dislike you. I don't want to bother with you right now. You are beneath me." But without the tail and ears this was hard to convey. She wouldn't have picked up on it anyway.
Her voice was quiet when she asked, "You don't believe I saved your life, or you don't believe I'm that good a shot?"
I pursed my lips and found I could only glare at her from the corner of my eye. I DIDN'T believe she was that good a shot...but I DID believe she had saved my life, however unintentional. The question was, what would she do now? "You must've had a reason to want to bother with someone like me," I said.
The woman shrugged, her eyes still gazing intensely at me. "I was curious." her smile turned into a smirk.
"About what?"
"Why didn't you defend yourself?"
I looked away. "That's a silly question. I was outnumbered."
"Therians are naturally stronger than humans," she countered. Something about her voice turned hard. "They're one of the strongest creatures on this Earth. Any idiot knows that. You could've held your own if you wanted to. Maybe even shifted just your hands to claws to keep them at bay...but you didn't. Why not?"
I looked at her again, my eyes wide with incredulity. "Because I'm not like that, all right? Where do you get off speaking like you know everything!?" Why did any of this matter to her?
"Because that's just how I understand things," She responded. Her voice returned to its curious humor. "You can't shame me for working off my prejudices–everyone on this planet needs a way to react to something new and mysterious if they wanna keep from getting overwhelmed. Heck, you're doing it too. You don't trust me, because in your experience, people like me must've done you or the people around you harm. That's fine. But look," she patted the tree branch and smiled jauntily. "Here we both are. You aren't running away, and I'm not hurting you. Between the both of us is a need to understand. So let's get to it. The first question is–and I get to ask since I saved your life, and all–is why didn't you fight?"
I pursed my lips and ruffled my hair with both hands. My nose itched and on the tip of my tongue danced a curse, but this woman's logic, as frustrating as it was, made it difficult to argue. Sullenly I muttered, "I can't fight."
Elmiryn leaned forward and tilted her head. "Can't or won't?" she asked. She came near enough that I could feel her breath against my skin. I leaned back, and my body turned rigid. Who was she to go invading my space? My throat tensed and my fingers clenched. The beast in me didn't like being challenged like that.
After a long moment I managed to bite out, "I can't." Then I took several deep breaths to keep my other half, my feline self, in check. This woman seemed to push my buttons on purpose.
When I regained calm, I bowed my head. The anger drained away, replaced instead by shame. "I don't know how to fight at all..." I sighed.
The warrior remained quiet. Then came four words that would change my life forever. As cliche as that sounds, I don't think I'll ever forget that moment for as long as I live.
"I'm on a quest," She said in a candid chirp that sounded completely incongruous with the message that entered my ears. "An evil demon by the name of Meznik has been terrorizing the kingdoms and I mean to stop him." She shifted on the tree branch a little, as if just mentioning her task made her anxious to complete it.
I looked up at her, bewildered.
...No, more like flabbergasted.
What did this have to do with me? And who went around announcing that sort of information in the first place?
She continued, and her smirk returned in a triumphant tilt. "It gets awfully boring on my own...so I just had an idea. Why don't you come with me?"
Shocked silence was the only response I could give.
Elmiryn gestured at me vaguely with her chin, "You're an Ailuran in need of food and protection, and I'm a warrior in need of some company. Who knows? Maybe I could teach you a few things?"
I shook my head, my face puckered in some expression that resembled disbelief. "You want me to go with you?? To...to seek out trouble and place myself in danger while you go around chasing astral demons!? Have you lost your mind? I don't want to fight! I don't want to be in the position to get myself killed! I just want to live my life in peace!" My tone was almost panicked. She couldn't be serious?
"Oh." was the woman's only response. She sagged, deflated. Somehow, I didn't trust this switch in demeanor. I gazed at her with apprehension. Elmiryn blew some strands out of her eyes and shrugged one shoulder. "Okay. That's perfectly fine. You're entitled to do as you wish. I just thought this might be a good way for you to repay your...ah..." and here she paused, smiling cattily, "Debt to me. For saving your life."
"Debt?" I echoed, incredulous. But a part of me squirmed...
Those light eyes--frigid cerulean--fell on my face and I shrank unconsciously. "I was just under the impression that Ailurans honored all debts," she said in an affable tone that belied her fierce gaze.
My face fell. She was right, of course. My people were honorable, above all things. I may have been a coward, but I was an honorable coward, damn all my luck...
I slumped, defeated. "You...You won't expect me to help you, will you? I'm not mincing my words when I say I cannot fight, I cannot defend myself, and I have no courage whatsoever." I said this in a tired voice. What was I going to do? Refuse? There was something peculiar about this woman warrior. Her simple gaze was enough to make me nervous.
"Now let's not get so hasty." She said with a raised a hand. "I've seen bravery come from the most unlikely places."
I smiled at her for the first time. It was a sad smile. "Not here, I assure you." I rubbed at my face and sighed. "I should also let you know...I'm an outcast. I've been...been Marked."
Marked. I could barely get the word out of my throat.
Ailurans dealt with criminals two ways: death...or the Mark. Death was preferable. The Mark was a curse--a brand burned into the criminal's skin by magic. The design of it varied on the crime itself. The curse that was set upon the individual made shape-shifting an agony, and prevented them from stepping into any Ailuran establishments--like temples. Others of my kind could sense it on me. They hated me for it. Other therians and other species tended to target outcasts like me, because they were such easy prey--also because they knew that the Mark was a serious punishment, and anyone with it could be a murderer. A distasteful attribute in any culture.
"Did you kill anyone?" Elmiryn asked, her gaze probing. I looked at her, startled. It seemed to be the only question that mattered to her. Did she believe then, that everything else was tolerable so long as I answered her correctly? If I told her...If I said to her...
"No." When I spoke it was with a frail voice--but I gazed straight into her eyes. Like daring a fearsome monster to attack. "I've never killed a person--not in my entire life. ...Directly or indirectly." I added the last part hastily. Conspirators were apt to getting the Mark as well.
She nodded, her face suddenly somber.
Despite myself, I was surprised to find that I desperately wanted her to accept me.
Then, Elmiryn smiled, a long satisfied smile. "Well, I don't really see what the problem is then." she said.
I smiled back at her uncertainly.
What had I gotten myself into?
"What's your name?" She asked, tossing the end of the rope she still held so that it stretched out to the bottom of the tree.
I hesitated a moment before answering.
"Nyx." I said in a small voice.
She held out her hand to me and smiled, this time more warmly. "Give me your hand, Nyx...it's time to rest. We've got a lot of walking to do tomorrow." The rain had almost completely stopped. Water no longer poured through the canopy--instead there was a light mist that tickled my nose. Did she have a camp? Blankets? Some place dry and warm to sleep? And what about my boots and other belongings?
I swallowed and gave her my hand.
Elmiryn didn't move. Instead, she squeezed and looked at me quizzically. "Can I ask just one more thing, though?"
I blinked at her. "I...suppose," I said slowly.
She gestured at me with her chin, her eyes on my head as her lip curled in light disdain. "Who the hell did you pay to cut your hair?" When I didn't answer right away, she shrugged one shoulder and offered off-hand, "I can beat them up if you'd like."
I gave her a deadpan look.
Aelurus, just what in the heavens had I gotten myself into?

Author's Note When I first wrote this chapter back in 2008, it was a cathartic experience. I had nothing going for me, and I wanted to work out my emotions through the story. For that reason, the story's beginning feels very open. I had notes and a general outline, but I didn't confine myself to it. I focused more on the interaction of the characters. Thus, the loose nature of my life reflected in the plot.

Dame
"Oh, Heaven, it is mysterious, it is awful to consider that we not only carry a future Ghost within us; but are, in very deed, Ghosts!" – Thomas Carlyle

NYX____________________________
She split the rays of the early suns with her well-cut figure–hands planted at the base of her hips and her shoulders squared against trailing storm winds. She had taken her hair out of her braid, and the auburn locks lifted with the breeze. With my arms hugged around my head, I peeked with sleep-winked eyes from beneath them.  Her shadowed face split into a grin.
"Morning," Elmiryn said.
I groaned and curled in on myself, hiding my face. "Already?" I whined in a low voice.
The woman warrior sighed and I heard her walk a few steps away, probably to put on her bracers and shoulder guards. "Wake up, Nyx. I won't have you wasting precious daylight, y'know. If I've gotta drag you, I'll drag you."
I stiffened at this declaration and jerked myself upright, my eyes trained on her as she adjusted her gloves.
"Besides," Elmiryn added as she went to pick up her other things, laid neatly out on a blanket. "We need to get out of here before the farmers wake up. They might still feel the need to look around the area with daylight on their side. I don't want to hurt peasants if I don't have to."
She tightened the straps of her shoulder guards and gave them a firm pat to see if they were well secure. Satisfied, she looked back at me and quirked an eyebrow. "Well? Come on. We need to get your things. I imagine you don't want to walk around barefoot all day."
I rubbed at my eyes and stood, somewhat unsteady, and gave my shoulders a roll. The arm I dislocated didn't ache anymore. I picked up the arrowhead I had saved from the night before, which I placed near my head while I slept, and held it between my teeth as I grabbed the blanket Elmiryn had let me use.  With a sigh, I folded it awkwardly.
I snuck some looks at my new companion as I did so. She was strapping a belt around her waist, with two blades holstered on it–one a six-inch knife on her right hip, the other a long sword.  From what I could tell from the shape of the sheath, the blade wasn't very pointed–that told me it was a sword meant to be swung, not to stab with.  It also had a red-jeweled pommel and a gilded cross guard–the crescent moon variety that faced the direction of the blade, of which a phrase was etched in an ancient language.  My mind tickled with recognition at the design, and I paused in my actions with a frown.
Elmiryn caught me staring and followed my line of sight. She smirked. "I got it through combat," she said, bending to pick up her own blanket. "I liked the sword, so I took it. The other guy didn't need it anymore." She looked at me again, an edge to her gaze, as if daring me to question further.
I blinked at her, and looked down. She thought I knew where the sword was from. I wanted to ask her, but feared what would happen if I did. I handed her the blanket and she took it, along with hers, and placed it in her satchel. She came up again and turned, tossing me an apple.
Startled, I caught it.
"That'll have to do until we find some food later. Right now, let's go get your things before the village wakes up." she said. Elmiryn shouldered her bow and quiver, grabbed her satchel, and began walking away.
I looked at the apple, then her. I rubbed it on my gambeson–trying not to think about the futility of that action considering the cleanliness of my clothes in general–and bit into it. Juice dribbled down my chin. After a few quick strides I had caught up with the woman and we walked in silence.
Dawn. A creeping warmth on a cold land. I thought about these things when dream and reality hazed together in my head. Light was peeking past the hills and splintered through the leaves in shafts. Mist carried the rosen glow about our shadowed forms as we marched over the damp leaves and tender roots. My breath came in light fogs before my face. The hark of a bluejay made my ears perk. It felt incongruous in this sleepy setting.
I didn't walk quite alongside Elmiryn, but rather, just a little behind. I didn't want her to think I was calling myself her equal. She was a warrior, a strong one, and had clearly experienced enough in life to walk as surely as she did now. But of what class was she? Was she a noble on a quest for enlightenment? Was she a soldier following orders from her king? Was she a simple peasant, a common person, making a name for herself through brave deeds and other such heroic acts in the hopes that she could escape the banality of normal existence?
...Was...Was she like me?
This last thought brought me no comfort. Instead, it made me nervous. The apple in my hand dwindled like my certainty as I gazed at Elmiryn's back. I didn't want to mingle with thieves, murderers, or charlatans. I stole, yes, but only from those who could afford a loss. I only resorted to theft out of necessity, not greed.
I told myself these things often at night.
I scrunched up my nose and frowned down at my apple. I had finished it–even eaten half of the core. I tossed the thing away, thinking firmly, "And what would an evil person be doing saving kittens and fighting demons?"
The answer eluded me.
"Hey, Nyx. As much as I like having you staring at me like the answer to life is hidden in my backside, d'ya think maybe you could lead? You're the only one who knows where your things are."
I gave a start and looked at Elmiryn, who stared back at me with an expectant look. Blushing, I mumbled an apology and went ahead of her.
My back tensed as I felt her gaze on my back. Did she have to stare? ...Oh, well I suppose it was only fair. I peeked a glance at her over my shoulder and our eyes met. Nervously I looked forward again. Elmiryn started to hum. I felt like she were teasing me for my skittishness.  The tune was a curious one, and at first I was a little perplexed that someone like her would know it.
It was too innocent and frivolous to come from such a source, I thought with pursed lips.  I hadn't even seen the woman draw her sword, and I was certain she could incapacitate me permanently with one strike–TWO if she wanted to draw it out with some flourish. But she had as much reason to trust me as I did her...right?
"Your clothes are enchanted, aren't they?" Elmiryn asked me suddenly.
I looked back at her, then turned forward to properly duck beneath a low branch of a bay tree. "Yes," I said.
My mother's clothes were specially made by an Ailuran tailor, who knew the spell roughly known as, "Second Skin."  It allowed a therian to shift into any form, and not tear or lose his clothes in the process.  Whatever shape I took, my clothes would fit to my body perfectly.  It was practically a necessity in therian cultures to have clothes blessed with Second Skin.  The lives of shape-shifters had many risks and dangers, the kind that other sentient creatures couldn't possibly comprehend.  They were expensive, and in the case of the poor, were treasured items that were passed down from generation to generation.
I thought of my mother, and felt a surge of audacity channel through my veins.  "You put a hole through my gambeson," I said in a churlish tone.
...The fact that Elmiryn saved my life by doing so, not withstanding.
I could hear the smile in her voice when she asked, "Well, considering the state of your clothes I didn't really think a–"
"It belonged to my dead mother." The amount of force I put into those words surprised even me. I stopped and glared back at Elmiryn, my hands clenched at my sides. Inside my chest, my heart pounded hard against my ribs–but my fear was overshadowed by anger.  There were certain things that I  just couldn't ignore.
To my astonishment, Elmiryn actually winced at my harsh look. Then her face went blank and she looked away. "Sorry. I didn't mean to insult you...or your mother." She rubbed the back of her neck and gestured at me with her chin–a habit of hers it seemed. "I'm no tailor, but I've some needle and thread with me. I can sew it up if you'd like. That won't mess with the enchantment, right?"
I stared at her. She knew how to sew? I guess even warriors cared whether their clothes were torn... "It won't." I said. I really was establishing myself as quite the lengthy speaker, wasn't I?
She smiled and nodded. "Okay, then."
I gazed at her for a moment longer, then continued walking. I felt more certain of myself somehow, and the tension in my back eased.
...Evil people don't care about dead mothers.

NYX____________________________
We tromped through the tall grass, and blades of moisture and morning chill clung to our flanks. I had my things again–my boots were securely fastened, my small bag of trinkets was pulled nervously on both shoulders by the thin straps of cloth I had stitched in myself.  I had added to my collection the pewter arrowhead Elmiryn had shot at me.  I considered throwing it away.  The memory of that moment tied my guts into knots, and I preferred having my insides settled and ordered.
Then it occured to me that the little item was special.  There were the obvious reasons of course:  the arrowhead had saved my life in a sensational manner, the little item marked the first time in over a year that I found myself in the company of anyone, and as superficial as it sounded, it just plain looked interesting.  But beyond those lines of reasoning rested other things.  They were mystifying, and a little unsettling.  If I thought about it long enough, I was certain I could figure out the greater motives that guided me to keep the trinket...but I didn't want to.  It tied my guts into knots.
There was a heaviness in the silence around us as Elmiryn and I walked.
Questions, like the feeble fragments of startled dandelions, drifted between me and that straightened back before me, lost and at the mercy of the cool wind that upped and carried them elsewhere. Elmiryn intimidated me still, despite my assertions regarding her lack of inherent evil or intent to do harm, for there rested something haphazard and unsettling in her regard to life and peace and will. Pale irises beneath the morning suns lit up aspirations that both bewildered and concerned me.
At first I felt afraid of the possible situations I may be cast therein; but then (I think it was just a little past Toah and the place we bivouacked, near the area where the poison oak and buck eye trees seemed weaved passionately together) I tried to imagine what Elmiryn had faced herself, alone, and felt my stomach twist in that loathsome way. With a dry swallow, I let my mind wander to less mystifying things.
Somehow my existence–lonely and dangerous and desperate–had been something I deemed only for myself, as if my dry petite hand could lay a claim to a way of living and shun all others skittering towards it. It seemed too cruel a thing to allow such a life for anyone else but me. As melodramatic as it sounded, I wanted that pain to be mine alone.
But beyond my unreasonable sentiments, I sensed something further amiss, and it was that untouchable something that kept drawing my gaze to the tall woman warrior, even as we stopped at the line of trees where the grassy hills and dense wood had given way to a rocky ravine and light mists of water. Elmiryn tilted her head back, her eyes turning lidded as she took in a deep intake of breath. She sighed, in what appeared to be satisfaction, and turned to look at me with an upbeat grin. "This leads to a lake. That stream we saw before must empty out there too." she said.
I shrugged, looking at her. "You mean to fish?" I asked.
Elmiryn gazed back at me and placed her free hand on her hip. "You aren't going to help me?"
Startled, I mumbled something along the lines of, "I don't think I can."
"You hate water." She said flatly.
I glared at her.  "No."
"So what's the problem? You're really going to tell me you can't fish either? Can you even hunt at all?"
My cheeks turned red, and I crossed my arms and slouched. "If I could, do you think I'd be stealing from farmers?"
Elmiryn shrugged. "Point taken," she conceded.
Then she put her arm around my shoulders and steered me forward, parallel with the ravine, and made a tutting sound befitting a long-suffering mother. "I guess I'll have to teach you then," she sighed.
"You don't have to teach me everything, y'know..." I said contumaciously, and my eyes flashed up through my uneven bangs even as I felt her laughter reverberate through me. For some reason this made my blush worse; I could feel the heat spread from my face and creep down my neck and back like fire. Stiffly, I shrugged out of her touch and tromped ahead.  My bag bounced and jangled behind me.
Elmiryn continued to walk at a more leisurely pace, silent at first, before she started to hum a song.  This was different from before.  It was the same in nature, but more complex.  A melody of humor and frivolity that's arrangement beckoned at my tense back like a playful call.
Odd as it sounds, it made my ears warm.
I glanced back at her, wary, but Elmiryn didn't quit.  She only smiled when she saw that she had my attention.  Before I knew it, I had slowed my pace so that I walked along side her again.  The tension had sloughed off like an extra weight, and I sucked lightly at my teeth to keep the corners of my mouth from turning upward.
Earlier I had thought it bizarre that someone like Elmiryn would know such jocose music.  Now I felt it only too appropriate.
The ravine marked an invisible line along the land, so that beyond it a sparse collection of thick old trees and many wild bushes and weeds ruled–not a dense army of any one thing. Out there, it felt like there was more space, and light came easier to the ruddy Earth. Elmiryn stopped humming and the only thing that seemed to fill the silence was the conversation of leaves and the giggles and hisses from the stream of water carving through the rock.
Ahead, I thought saw the familiar glint of a body of water.
"Y'know, I guess it'd be good to try and get to know each other, seeing as how we're going to be stuck together for a while." Elmiryn said suddenly, as if the thought had just occurred to her.
I gazed at her sidelong, but didn't say anything.
Bemusedly, she looked my way. "Don't you think so, Nyx?"
"Yes." I said, after a moment of thought.
The taller woman smiled, almost languidly. "Good to know you agree."
But the conversation, if one could even call it that, stopped there, and I grew nervous wondering what it was Elmiryn was thinking.
The ravine fed into a fair-sized lake where large bugs skimmed and danced across the surface. It was large enough that if two people stood on either side of it, they'd have to really shout to be heard. The center of it was dark, and around the shallower waters tall slim plants I couldn't name stood proud over the surface. The smells of algae and fish tickled my nose. Elmiryn went ahead of me and sat down on the rocky shore, where she began to take her boots off. I went to her and sat, setting my bag on the dry log next to me.
"How are you going to fish?" I asked. I hugged my knees when Elmiryn glanced at me, and for some reason my blush came back.
With both boots off and her pants rolled up, the woman stood.  Her hair draped free over her shoulders as she stooped to pick up her bow and arrows. She gave a grin as if that were all the answer I needed, and then proceeded out into the water. When the lake was up to her knees, she readied an arrow and stood still, only her head moving as she searched for any sign of fish.
She didn't fire a shot for a long time.
My stomach growled at me from beneath my gambeson and I slouched, grumpy, as I watched her.  With the time passed, I found myself emboldened enough by boredom to ask her a question. "Are you one of those folk heroes who are altruistic just for the sake of it, or was there an impetus to this quest of yours?"
Elmiryn paused in her quiet hunt to slowly turn and squint at me from over her shoulder. "Say what?"
I resisted rolling my eyes.  At the risk of sounding pompous, I really hated having to simplify things I said.  "What I was asking was: why are you after this...um...demon? Meznik, you said he was called. Are you doing it for yourself or some noble sense of duty?"
Elmiryn shook her head, and a dubious grin spread her lips. "My, my. You're quite the speaker now!"
"I'm asking a fair question, I think."
She sighed and swiped at her nose with her arm. Her gaze had fallen downward, and I got the impression she was focusing on her reflection in the water.
"He cursed me," she finally said. Her normally melodic voice became somewhat subdued, and I strained to hear her. "It's hard to explain to you."
"You're the one who said we should talk and get to know each other."
"I know."
"So why not try and explain to me this curse of yours? Maybe it'll affect me."
"No. It has nothing to do with you. Not really."
"Then what is it?"
Elmiryn's eyes narrowed and I saw her ready her bow again. Some part of me tensed, afraid that I was being too pushy about the topic. But when she suddenly let loose the arrow, I realized that she had only seen a fish.  Blood appeared through the murk, and soon I saw the fish float to the surface. "Verisimilitude. Know what that means?" she asked.
I frowned at her.  I tried not to sound surprised when I answered. "Something that has merely the appearance of truth."
"Hey, you're pretty good at my language!" She exclaimed, with a brief smile in my direction. A warmth blossomed in my chest, and I barely was able to conceal my pleased grin. So maybe she wasn't beyond appreciating a good education.
Elmiryn stooped and grabbed the fish, then pulled the arrow out of its side. When she turned to me and tossed the fish onto the rocks, she smiled sadly. "That is my curse, Nyx. Verisimilitude. ...Or something.  I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."
The fish slapped against the smooth rocks, blood and guts coming out of its wound, and my eyes went wide with delight at the sight of it. Though I preferred cooking my meat to some degree, fish I had no problem with eating raw.
"Go ahead and start cutting the fish," Elmiryn said, "My knife is there with my bag. Don't start eating without me though."
I smiled eagerly, and the conversation we were having fled my mind as I washed my hands and set to work. But soon the question came bubbling up my throat as I pondered over what the other woman said. "How is verisimilitude your curse?" I asked. "That doesn't make any sense."
Another strike. Another fish. Elmiryn paused to toss it back toward me before she shrugged and said, "Every sentient creature has the ability to believe in themselves and their experiences. He took that away from me. Among other things. I mean to get it back."
"You don't...believe in yourself?" I said, pausing in my actions to give Elmiryn a nonplussed look.
She laughed and shook her head. "Not like self-confidence. Something more important than that..." she wiped her face on her arm again and looked skyward, tapping the end of an arrow on her chin. "What I mean is the ability to believe that you impress on the world something...uh...lasting, I guess.  Like memories.  We all have memories–some more vivid than others, but memories all the same.  Then there's the feeling that we're noticed and acknowledged.  A sense of...um..." Elmiryn looked at me uncertainly, and I stopped what I was doing all together, transfixed.  She pointed at herself and squinted her eyes.  "It's like when you know who you are and what you're place in the world is."
"A sense of self?" I offered with an awkward shrug.
Elmiryn nodded.  "Yeah.  As in, you look in the mirror and you're certain that what you're seeing is correct.  'Oh look, there's my hair, styled just the way it is supposed to be.  And the look in my eyes matches just the kind of emotion I'm feeling.  And I look just as old as I feel.'  Y'know, that sort of thing."
I thought about it for a moment, and felt an understanding settle in.  I looked back as Elmiryn began to continue.  I got the sense she was talking less to me and more to herself.
"Meznik took away my belief of the past and therefor took away my hope for the future." She said, arms now lowered at her sides as she stared ahead blankly. "All I have is the present moment–the current feelings and current sensations–because all in the past becomes fiction, and my passion and trust in it fades.  But even the present feels a little hollow.  So...I guess...I...I don't feel real. I feel like all the things that make up who I am could break and give way to apathy.  I mean, why care about a world you don't believe in anymore?" she said all this quietly, her voice almost overpowered by the sound of the water coming into the lake. It was like she just realized what her curse meant for her.
She remained quiet for what felt like a long time, and it seemed like I was supposed to say something, but I wasn't sure what.
But suddenly Elmiryn was smiling again, and she resumed her watch for fish along the water.  There was an eagerness about her–the way her gaze roved, the tense readyness of her arms.  Her eyes were lit bright and intense by the reflection of the suns in the water. "I guess that's why I'd like you to come with me. To be my anchor. To remind me of who I was, so that..."
I frowned at her, suddenly nervous of this responsibility I now had. "So that what?" I prompted.
The warrior fired another arrow.  The water splashed and rippled before blood billowed in a dark cloud toward the surface.
"So that I don't turn into something else."

NYX____________________________
It was a two-day journey to the town known as Dame, and in that time I discovered three things: if a tree branch squeaks, I probably shouldn't rest on it; Elmiryn has no concept of personal space; and apparently, I talk in my sleep.
"You were muttering something about rats."
"I was not."
"You were asleep.  How do you know?"
"I find myself a bit concerned over the fact that you were close enough to make out what I was muttering."
"So you're saying I'm right."
"No.  I'm saying you have alarming ideas of what's permissible between two people who hardly know each other."
"You can't remember what you were dreaming.  Are you really going to argue with me?"
I settled for looking sullen and avoided Elmiryn's gaze. "My hazy mutterings aside, what made you think hovering over me like you were would be interpreted as anything else but creepy?"
I sat at the base of an old poplar tree, where I picked twigs and dirt from my tangled mess of hair.  The bandages wrapped around my hands were smudged with the pollen from the catkins.  I tried to wipe it off, but it seemed to only set it deeper into the sweat stained fabric.
Elmiryn stood over me, her arms crossed and the corners of her lips turned upwards at the ends.
"You were crying," she said with a twitch of her mouth.
I glanced at her with sullen eyes.  "I must have been thinking of something else."
"You fell out of the tree.  It was kinda like you were trying to get away from them."
I grit my teeth but made it a point not to look up at her again.  "No. The branch broke. And it broke because I jumped when I saw you were hovering over me."
Elmiryn shook her head with a chuckle and palmed her face.  "Nyx, you wouldn't wake up when I was calling you from the ground. How else was I going to wake you? Throw a rock?" Then she looked upwards as if something occured to her, and the smile that had been only a concept became fully realized.  "...Hey, wait a minute. You think I'm unsettling? As in, 'Gee, I hope she makes a go for my pants', or as in, 'I think this crazy wench is going to shiv my hide'?"
The way she said this had a tone of absurdity that I'm sure she entirely meant for.  It caught me completely off guard.  I looked up at her with cheeks tinged pink and my mouth open, ready to speak.  It was an instinctual reaction after being posed a question.  ...But nothing worth saying came to me until I could see the mischievous glint wink in her morning-lit eyes.
I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut.  I felt like a bug beneath a magnifying glass.  "By the four winds, what is the matter with you?" I grumbled.  My hands went to rub my temples.  I could feel a headache coming on. "Do you like making me as flustered as possible?"
I heard Elmiryn sit on the ground and opened my eyes to gaze at her warily.  When our eyes met she tilted her head to the side.  "You make it so easy." she said.  There was a note of fascination in her voice that made me squint my eyes a little.  "I mean, you're the first one of your kind I've met that doesn't know how to hunt or fight, and...well..." her voice trailed and she seemed to reconsider her next choice of words.
I braced myself.  Any sentence that trailed off like that had something unpleasant to unveil.  I let my hands drop to my lap, where I sprinkled away the dirt I had between my fingers.  "Well what?" I prompted uneasily.
"You speak funny." She shrugged after she said this.
I just stared.  "...Pardon?"
She held her hands up, but there was no sense of urgency in the action.  Elmiryn wasn't concerned with insulting me, it seemed.  "Easy.  I don't mean it in a bad way." Her eyes trailed from my face to my hair, then my hands.  She looked at me again and her expression went soft. "Where did you learn my language?"
"...Reading." I paused and fiddled with the collar of my gambeson. "Before I was Marked I read a lot to pass the time. Human literature had...um...lots of nice stories."
"Self-taught. That's amazing."
"Are you trying to distract me from the fact that you just spooked me off the high branch of a tree?" I gave her the driest look I could manage.
Elmiryn didn't wither.  Instead, she seemed to brighten at my passive aggression.  "No, honestly, Nyx. I mean it."  I pursed my lips as I stood and walked a few steps away.  She made as if to grab at my ankles, but then refrained.
"C'mon, look at me," she said–not asked. "I really mean it. So will you accept that I'm sorry?"
I crossed my arms and tapped my fingers thoughtfully. "...Yes. But I think it's clear we've got to establish some things if I'm going to travel with you."
"Okay, great. What do you want established?"  Elmiryn leaned back on her hands and grinned up at me.  I consciously avoided looking at her.
"First of all, quit remarking about how I'm not like such-and-such or like so-and-so. Having my short-comings pointed out to me all the time is driving me mad."
"Done."
"Second, I'd appreciate it if you'd quit staring at me. It's making me nervous."
"All right."
"And third, you've got to give me my space. That means no messing with my things and no putting your hands on me just for the sake of it. Okay?"
"Yeah. You got it."
"Good."
"Great."
"Fantastic."
"Lovely."
"...Have you got anything you'd like to tell me?"
Elmiryn held up a finger.  "Just one thing."
I was already wary.  "What's that?"
"If you're going to use fancy words, you've got to tell me what they mean."
"...That's it?"
"Sure, why not? But you can't give me the wrong definition. If you do, I might pull a sword on someone who was otherwise just telling me how well my pants compliment my ass. Granted, anyone who told me that would still have my blade at their throat, but the worst I'd do is slap their rump with the broadside of my sword."
A crooked grin spread over my lips.  "Sweet Aelurus...conciliation really comes naturally to you, doesn't it?"
"Well see, if I knew what that meant..."
Despite myself I giggled. Whenever Elmiryn spoke, it always seemed on the verge of laughing somehow--sometimes I was certain because of me, but other times I wasn't so sure.  My guess was that she was aware of something I wasn't.  Perhaps because of her condition.  Certainly, with every restless pass of her eyes, I believed more and more in her curse.
Since our time at the lake, all conversation between the two of us had been purely chit-chat: general observations about our surroundings, the weather, what it was we'd do for food, where we'd sleep, etc.... Now, as we entered the flat golden valley and could see Dame in the distance, our polite ease seemed to be slipping into something else. Something less inhibited.
I found I welcomed it.
"What are your plans in Dame?" I asked Elmiryn as I pulled absently at the straps of my bag.
She glanced at me and smirked. "To ask some questions. Get information about the territory and what is going on here. I suspect that Meznik's come to this land. If he has, I'm certain he's already done something to cause trouble. That's what I'm expecting to learn about."
"Will it take us closer to him?"
"Hopefully. I'm working against him, so anything of his I can undo is something in my favor, but what I'm really seeking is a way to get to Meznik himself. He's an astral demon and exists on a different level than you or I. That means that taking a sword to him is about as effective as trying to cut shadows."
I swiped absently at a daisy on the ground with my foot. "What sort of things did you do before you met me?"
"Oh...those are long stories. Complicated too. I get impatient telling them," her voice changed, dropping a note.
I glanced at her, through my bangs.  "Can you tell me one thing, at least? If my job is to help you remember who you are and what you stand for, then maybe I should get an idea of the woman you were before Meznik?"
Elmiryn smiled, but the curl of her lip seemed a hair's breath away from a snarl. "I was a fool." she said, and the conversation ended there.
The gate to Dame was guarded by two men, and I could see between the crenelations of the town wall there were archers keeping sight of all who came near. Elmiryn walked ahead of me and approached one of the armed guards, an amiable smile on her face. "Hail," she said.
"Hail," the man returned, his squinted eyes shifting to rest on me. I tried hard to seem unobtrusive, turning my gaze elsewhere.
"We'd like to enter your fine town," Elmiryn said, nodding toward the gate. "Will you grant us passage?"
"Your business?" the guard asked.
"Food, drink, a place to rest...we won't even be here long.  One night, at the most."
"Who's your friend?"
I tensed and kept my head down. Better to seem bashful and timid than to let him see my eyes. It had, of course, occurred to me that perhaps he had seen them already, but I still I didn't lift my gaze.  Perhaps it was a childish logic.  Pretend hard enough and the world would pretend with you.
I could hear Elmiryn shrug, the metal of her shoulder guards hissing. "She's my ward."  There was a sense of finality to her words, as though any more questions on the matter were unneeded–and unwelcome.
The guard took a moment to consider. Then he said, "You'll have to check your weapons at the garrison. Those aren't allowed within town walls. You can retrieve them when you leave." then he gave a whistle and a second later the gate doors opened inward.
I followed Elmiryn as she passed through. As we proceeded further into town I breathed in deep, taking in the scents. I could smell the smoke and ash from hearth fires, dung from horses, the hay used to feed them, roasting meat and stewing vegetables, freshly dyed cloth, and potpourri. Thatched homes, many of them two-stories, were set neatly side by side in what appeared to be a planned arrangement. Importance seemed to shape the town in an orderly way of business--a trait most trading hot spots shared. Everyone there was so well dressed. Dame was a prosperous town.
I fingered the hole in my collar and decided I'd take Elmiryn up on her offer to mend it.
The both of us entered the garrison, a cold stone building that smelled of steel and sweat. As Elmiryn checked her weapons, she glanced at me and raised an eyebrow.
"You aren't a turtle, Nyx," she said.
"I realize that," I returned, looking up at her. When we left the garrison I continued in a low voice, "If our first encounter was any indication, this area hates my kind. I was actually on my way to leave for someplace safer when we met."
Elmiryn smiled in a way that made me nervous. "And instead, you met me."
"Yeah," I said, glancing at her.
"Go on, lift your head. My job is to keep you safe. If you've got to hide all the time, then I must not be doing a good job, right?"
"I suppose..."
"So?"
With a sigh, I laboriously straightened out, my eyes gazing straight ahead. "I like being inconspicuous. Just about everything about me is easy to forget except for my eyes." I fussed with my bangs, irritated over the fact that one side was so long it tickled my nose, yet the other side had grown only an inch from my hairline. I vowed never to get 'creative' with a pair of garden shears again.
"I wouldn't say you're easy to forget," Elmiryn said, clasping her hands behind her back.
I looked at her, skeptical. "Oh?"
She shrugged, and gestured at a group of young girls hovering near a merchants cart. They were cooing over foreign fabrics and giggling at the merchant's extravagant attempts at getting them to buy his product. "Take those girls for instance. For me, they blend into the background. They are common and easy to ignore."
"Is that because of your curse?"
"I think the curse just makes it worse. I'd have passed them by without a second look even if I didn't have this problem."
"I know you've told me what it's like for you, or tried to, but somehow I can't even imagine it," I said, crossing my arms high on my chest and tilting my chin down just slightly. I felt a little exposed walking with my head up like I was. "Has your perceptions changed greatly?"
The woman chuckled.  "Well of course they have! I can't rely on what I see as I once did."
I gazed at her in wonder. "So it's like your blind..."
Elmiryn blinked. Then she smiled and a stronger laugh came up her throat, deep and raw. "I guess I am," she said. She gave me a nudge, "But it'll help having someone to lead me, won't it?"
I glanced at my arm as if she slapped a manacle there. I felt like I was in over my head. Wishing to change the subject, I pointed down the way at a shop sign squeaking on its hinges. It read, "The Red Shield," and offered a helpful picture for the reading impaired. "Look. There's an inn," I said lamely.
The warrior turned her head and nodded. "Good. Let's see if we can stay the night there."

ELMIRYN________________________
Brown ale wasn't her favorite choice of drink, but the nutty, bitter-sweet taste seared through her conscious like a sensual streak from a painter's brush. The taste filled her, and after she swished the drink sufficiently in her mouth, she swallowed it down and took the mug to her lips for another gulp.
The inn was clouded with tobacco smoke and dust, the patrons there conversing amiably amongst themselves with little regard to those around them. A trusting town. She had almost become used to the shifting glances of skittish customers, the barely contained snarls, the flatulence, dirty faces, and visible weapons. She leaned against the bar, eyes slightly squinted as she regarded a fragile sight at risk of falling away.
Nyx sat on a high stool next to her, slouched and with her back to the room. She was hunched over a bowl of stew, curls of steam brushing the sides of her face as she chewed on a large chunk of beef. The bulge in her cheek tempted Elmiryn to poke it, but she restrained herself with a small grin.
They had secured a room without trouble.  Two beds, but a small space.  The woman didn't plan on turning in soon.
With one elbow on the counter behind her, Elmiryn swirled the liquid in her mug with a frown. Not the best drink she'd had, but so long as it did what she hoped it would, it didn't matter.
Sometimes she imagined, when she allowed herself too, that the world before her stood only because she let it. If she wished, a simple push was all that would be needed to send the theatrical backdrop tumbling. The woman wondered what would lie behind the flimsy perceptions. Would there be black nothing, or a radiant truth?
She felt so...small...
When she felt the depth of the room suddenly stop at her nose, Elmiryn closed her eyes and pressed herself further back into the counter, so that the edge dug into her spine. It felt like her face were against a wall. She took two deep breaths and reminded herself that this was an impossibility, and her belief could easily be disproved by simply stretching out her hand. So she did so, and felt it press against nothing; no backdrop, no curtain, no wall, just...nothing. She didn't open her eyes or drop her arm, but instead let her other senses take over.  The sounds of people yards away, the tremble of the floor from footsteps, the brush of air against her face...
"Elmiryn? Something the matter?" Nyx. The girl's stool squeaked as she turned to regard her. It was sweet, that concern. She let the girl's voice echo in her head.
"She's not just a picture, Elmiryn. She's a living, thinking being."
A ghost from the past came to haunt her through the present, but she could recall nothing of who they really were, and so, let the warning slip through the sieve of her attention.  Wasn't it funny, how she could banish these melancholy shards of hushed voices and vague portraits and feel banished from life herself?
Almost as if by will, the warrior made herself feel the room expand. She heard the sound of chairs and silverware scraping ahead of her; felt the thud of goblets and fists against the counter, as well as the circulation of air that teased her face as the inn's door opened and closed. She took another swig of her ale and felt all right again. Warm even.
Elmiryn let her arm drop.
"Don't worry, Nyx," she said, eyes still closed. "Just listen--we're bound to hear something."
"I'm not used to these places." the youth answered.
"To be honest, neither am I," Elmiryn said. "This place is very tame."
A small snort. "Oh, I bet you'd love a good bar fight. ...Hey, why are you keeping your eyes closed?"
Settled in a zone of comfort, Elmiryn resisted a chuckle at Nyx's dry comment and gently let out a, "Shhhh," in answer of her question. She then turned her full attention to the conversations around her.
"...see the new baker's wife? Boy, I'd love to fill her bun with my...!"
"...been word of a forgetful girl up north, who seems to be looking for..."
"...a marriage next week...!"
"...storms are getting worse. So odd. They aren't even in season...!"
"...some new parchment going around. People can't stop buying it..."
"...past the mountains. Word has it that the Medwin River has become poisoned. The people of Gamath are suffering..."
Elmiryn's eyes snapped open and she looked to her right, where two men sat two tables away, grim looks on their faces. She took another second to listen to them--to watch their lips move--just to make sure she got it right.
"I hear they are having great trouble. The storm passed them by without a drop of rain." The eldest man said, turning his cup idly. "They've been resorting to using fruit to keeping hydrated, but the supply is running low and they lack good meat.  Most of the plants in that area have been killed by the river, and the animals have turned rabid. It's horrifying how quickly that place has come to smell of death." He shook his head, liver-spotted face pale and drawn.
"Won't Tiesmire help?" the other man asked, younger and with a bushy beard.
"King Brice is taking advantage of the whole thing. Tiesmire's economy has flourished since this tragedy began. No 'competitors' to rob them of trade."
"Has anyone gone to speak to the river's guardian?"
"The last one that went never came back.  No one knows what happened to him."
"Perhaps they just need someone more skilled."
The two men looked up with a start, their eyes resting on Elmiryn's beaming face. "Hullo. Care to tell me more about this issue?"
The gray-haired man frowned at her sharply. "Who're you?" he grunted.
The warrior pulled out a chair and sat next to the stranger, her elbows resting on the table. She felt Nyx reluctantly sit on her other side. Elmiryn felt pleased that she didn't need to tell her to join. "I'm the one who's going to help Gamath. My name is Elmiryn. I'd like it if you could tell me what you know."
"But you're a--"
"Warrior. Yes. You're right. Do we need drinks?"
"No, no we aren't interested in--"
Elmiryn snapped her fingers and called over her shoulder."Inn keeper, can we get four drinks here?"
Nyx began to protest, her tawny eyes going wide. "Oh--no, no, no! I don't want one!"
The warrior waved off her protests with a crooked smile. Oh yes, the ale was doing its duty. "You're old enough." she said jovially to her companion.
The Ailuran grit her teeth. "That's not what I meant!"
Elmiryn leaned in and muttered out of the corner of her mouth. "It isn't a big deal. I'll take your drink if you don't want it!"
"You're kidding," Nyx deadpanned.
"You're an Ailuran..." the bearded man said, his gaze going narrow.
Nyx paled, and even out of the corner of her eye, Elmiryn could see the girl's muscles go tense. "No, no. She's a turnip," the warrior said, without skipping a beat. All at the table blinked at her. Smiling goofily, she rubbed at her face and said through light chuckles, "She's my ward. Completely harmless. Doesn't have the slightest idea how to throw a punch let alone kill a person."
"No Ailuran is harmless," The bearded man argued obstinately. "I've seen them in battle.  They killed my friends without a thought!"
Elmiryn quirked an eyebrow at him. "You really don't believe me?"
He slammed his fist onto the table, making Nyx jerk as though she were about to launch into a run.  Elmiryn snatched the front of her gambeson and gave her a sharp look.  The youth looked at her, equally startled by this sudden action.  She fixed the woman with a bewildered stare.  Elmiryn slowly let the girl go, and made a point of raising her eyebrows.
"Trust me, damn it," she wanted to say.
"Of course I don't believe you!" the man snarled, going red. "I'm shocked you were even allowed to bring that thing into the town!" He pointed a shaking finger at Nyx.  People around them were beginning to watch.
The warrior shrugged and leaned back. The world shifted as she did so, and a giggle built up in her throat before she brought up her palm in a quick strike upside Nyx's head. The girl snapped forward from the harsh contact as a loud yelp escaped her lips. Nearly all the tavern stopped and stared now as Nyx rubbed the spot she had been hit, a look of dumbfounded anger on her face.
"That hurt!" she snapped irately.
Elmiryn snickered and raised her hand as if to say to the men, "See?"
With a bang, Nyx stood, her breath coming quick through her nostrils. With a sneer she stormed out of the inn, but not before the warrior noted a glistening at the corners of her eyes. Elmiryn gazed after her, suddenly sorry for what she did.
The woman looked disdainfully at her empty mug and thought, "...If only I'd had two more of these. That may have turned out better then!"
The bearded man shook his head, clearly impressed. "Gods...I'll admit. I've never seen one of her kind take an insult like that so lightly. She behaved more like an embarrassed child!"
"It doesn't matter about her," the older man said firmly. He looked at Elmiryn with furrowed brow. "If you want to know about Gamath I'll tell you all that I know, but I really don't think you can do anything. The situation is just too terrible."
The warrior rested her chin on her laced hands and smiled at the man sweetly.
"I'm all ears."

NYX____________________________
That wretched cocksure witch made me want to scream.
How dare she.
How DARE she?
No debt was worth that humiliation, I thought to myself. The nerve, doing that to me in front of those men, as if it didn't matter? If she made any attempts to explain the issue later, I certainly wasn't going to indulge her. No clever reasoning could ever forgive the blatant violation of trust. And what of her expectations from me? How did she expect me to take my duty to her seriously after having my pride stepped on like a belly-scraping roach?
Hypocritical bitch.
My skin tingled and my clothes felt tight. Heat flashed over me. Anger and fury played games with my misplaced pride, calling up the ghostly vestiges of self-respect I'd once had.  It seemed to appear from nothing, like sparks from flint, and if I'd thought about the situation more, I'd have seen the gross hypocrisy that existed not just in Elmiryn, but in myself.  I was a Marked therian.  What respect did I deserve from anyone?  But I'd been away from others for a long time, and to have my trust violated in such a way made anger a slow thing to cool.
I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply--taking in the human scents around me. Things to hold onto while my other self writhed. I leaned back against the inn behind me and wondered why it was I separated my current state from my bestial one. 'Her', versus 'me'. Us. Like two things could ever really ever occupy such an uncertain shell. Bitterly, I thought of how my animal counterpart would have stood up for herself given the great insult I suffered. My shoulders deflated with a sigh, and I shook my head, allowing my eyes to open.
"If She were in charge, I wouldn't be here to begin with." And this confession seemed enough to quell the stirring creature into silence.
All around, the smells and sounds of town life called to me, draped over me; it was warm like blanket--one that wasn't mine. I stood awkwardly for a moment before deciding a small walk wouldn't hurt. Ruffling my uneven mop, I stepped out onto the street. I could hear Elmiryn in my head, saying with amusement, "Good. That's the first step. What do you do next?"
Gods, she was already becoming a voice in my head.  How pathetic was I?
A group of teenagers stampeded past me, knocking me around in their haste to get by. As they continued out of view, I muttered shakily, "You try not to get run over."
"That can be quite a task in this busy little town, miss," a new voice said.
My head turned, and between the passing bodies I made out one man whose gaze locked with mine. Instinctively, I shrunk in on myself and took a step back. I didn't look away, though. He had already seen my eyes--seen the otherness that colored them. Better to see what he did and react appropriately.
But the man only smiled, his mature countenance wrinkling with mirth at my reaction. Dark eyes peered from beneath a barely connected unibrow--a trait that on anyone else would have seemed brutish or unkempt, but somehow rested regally on him. He extended a hand to me and I could see the blisters in his palm. My suspicion increased and I took a deep breath through my nose. I managed to make out his scent from those around me. Citrus, oil, and earth mixed together with the common scents of a warrior; the scent of leather, metal, and sweat.
"Don't be afraid, kitten. This lanky oaf means you no harm," he said. His voice was calm and deep. I was reminded of my mother's heartbeat when I slept beside her. Reluctantly I came closer.
"What do you want?" I asked, my eyes wide and wary.
"You seem upset," the stranger said, brushing his overgrown coal-gray hair away from his face. He was seated on a thick honey-colored wicker basket, which was turned over and strained beneath the weight of his long body. His legs were bent as if he were ready to spring away at any moment, and the cloth of his crimson aketon was tinged a darker shade in some places. "I saw you come in with your friend," the man continued, nodding toward the direction of the gate, "And next I know it you're outside that inn with the most puckered face I ever laid eyes on." He shook his head, looking at me sympathetically. "She did something brash, didn't she?"
I crossed my arms and frowned at him. "Do you know her?"
The dark man chuckled. "Personally? Oh, heavens no. But her eyes say a lot. Sharp eyes, yes, but eyes that wander--like she's looking for something. A little aimless. Careless in their own way. You could say I was just waiting to see you come out of that inn by yourself."
"And of me? What did you gather from seeing me?"
"That's a trap, young girl. I won't go tripping that anytime soon. Too many men have stuck their foots in their mouths from a question like that."
I shook my head and waved him off. "This is silly. I shouldn't even be talking to you." I started to walk away.
"I bet your life makes it hard to speak casually with anyone, kitten. But you should know that not everyone in this region wants your kind dead."
I turned and glared at him, my eyes searing. "Shh!" I hissed. I went back to him and said through tight lips, "Most haven't noticed what I am, and I'd like to keep it that way! And stop calling me kitten, for gods sakes. I hardly know you!"
"Sorry," the man said. He held out his hand, "I'm Tobias. Not from around here, as you can probably guess."
I didn't take his hand. "Leave me alone," I snapped. I stalked back toward the inn, deciding that finishing my bowl of stew seemed a lot nicer than dealing with odd men.
"I've got something I think you'd like. Something that might take your mind off things when they get hard." he called after me, his voice carrying easily through the bustle that surrounded us.
Against my better judgment, I stopped. I looked back at him over my shoulder, trying to seem indifferent despite my curiosity. Tobias smiled, his large upper-teeth a little crooked but otherwise endearing in an honest, openhearted sort of way. He reached behind him, rummaging through things I couldn't see, and a moment later he straightened again with a worn, leather-bound book in his hands. I frowned and turned fully as he stood and crossed the stream of passerby to hand it to me. He towered over all he passed.
The man stopped just short of arm's length and held out the book. I thought for a moment before I took it gingerly from him, half-expecting him to grab me as soon as I did so, but he didn't move. Instead, Tobias only gave a satisfied nod and went back to where he had sat and picked up a traveler's bag from behind the basket.
"There. I hope you enjoy that," he said, returning to me. He shouldered his bag.
I blinked at him. "Why give me this? What is it?"
"Poetry, thoughts, small stories. It has a little of everything," Tobias said with a shrug.
"That's it? This is what you planned on doing all along?"
"You sound disappointed."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "I just...I mean...why?"
The man quickly tapped his long finger on my head before I could react. "Because you seemed like the grounded, intellectual sort. Or perhaps, a person who could be one." He winked before walking away. I stared after him, mouth slightly agape.
"When you tire of the book," he called over his shoulder, "Trade it for another! It's the only way things like that should be shared." And after that, even my keen eyes couldn't make him out of the smear of the crowd--colors and scents melding together in a great and formless herd as the suns crept closer to the horizon. I looked at the book in my hand skeptically. There was no title to it.
I went to the basket and sat down. It didn't sag nearly as much as it did with the man. Nervously I looked around me before I opened the book and began to read.
"There was not enough in me to speak lest I drown. Any other dawn and this man would have been as brave as a minute--knowing nothing more than that moment's charge of exhilaration and fulfillment by the sweep of his sword..."

ELMIRYN________________________
There is no barring imagination from reality when walls shift and waver, and humor makes a home in bruises and dust. She delighted in the weight of her limbs. Lyrical language and capricious phrases darted about her head in a game of tag. Her tongue tingled with want of speaking these nonsensical fragments, but Elmiryn refrained, aware she lacked an audience.
When she came outside of the inn, the air was cool and the sky had shifted to a glorious velvet. The merchants were long since packed and gone, only a small crowd of folk wandering here to there, taking care of things before they were expected to retreat for the night. The warrior spotted Nyx across the way, sitting on a basket with her head bowed down and what appeared to be a book in her hands. She cantered towards her.
"Hullo there, my kitten in cutie's clothing. What is that you've got?" Elmiryn chirped. She bent over and tilted her head to one side, her body swaying. "Is it because of what you are that you can read out here with so little light?" the woman asked.
Nyx sighed and stopped reading, her tawny eyes rolling up to glower at her companion.
Elmiryn pouted. "You're still mad at me," she grumbled asininely.
"That's very astute of you, considering your head's drowned in ale." Nyx looked back at her book. "Step back, please. I've got a sensitive nose and you're making my eyes water."
Elmiryn knelt down with a flop before the girl and blew wisps of hair away from her forehead. "My head isn't swimming just with ale, you know," she said matter-of-factly. "It's also swimming with information!"
"Lovely. I can just imagine what that would look like," was the dry response.
"We're going to Gamath."
"Fine. Go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow."
Elmiryn shifted so that she could stare up into Nyx's face. She blinked a lot, trying to get a fix on the girl's face, which just didn't seem to sit still.
The youth looked up at her in annoyance. "What?" she snapped.
"I don't want you to be mad at me," the woman said, cerulean eyes lidded. She leaned forward unsteadily, her neck straining as she tried to look at Nyx full on. The girl sat back with a curl of her lip. "C'mon...please don't be mad," Elmiryn beseeched. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Honest!"
The girl frowned at her. "Sweet Aelurus, you're just like a child!"
"Sweet as a babe when drunk, my mother says," Elmiryn said proudly. "It's also been said that I'm more attractive when tipsy. I'd say I'm beyond that state, right? So what would you make of me now, Nyx? Am I...desirable?" The woman waggled her brows.
Nyx stared. Her cheeks became flushed, so much so that even Elmiryn noticed it in the poor light.
"Hey, it's working!" The warrior said, her voice strained as she held back a giggle. "And to think, I didn't expect that line to go anywhere!"
"It hasn't!" Nyx huffed. She stood to her feet and began to stomp away. "Gods, I can't believe you! I thought there was some level of respectability in you, but here you are acting like a callow, fatuous nincompoop!"
"Wait! Come back! I'm still apologizing!" Elmiryn stumbled to her feet, limbs in seeming rebellion; but as she fixed her eyes on Nyx, she shifted her weight and followed through with her momentum, her mind caught up with her desires and she found herself moving purposefully in a calculated line. The woman managed to stop before the girl, successfully cutting her off. Nyx stared at her in surprise.
Elmiryn held up her hands, her breath heavy. "Now wait! Just wait!"
"No." Nyx said vehemently, the muscles in her face strained. "You're acting like a buffoon, and I'd rather not talk to you like this. It's shameful."
"Shameful." Elmiryn's face fell.  She rubbed the back of her neck and looked down at the ground. "How is it that you take words and give them so much meaning? Am I really so blind...that it has to be brought to my attention all the time?"
The Ailuran faltered. "...Sorry?"
The woman looked up at the girl, her wavering gaze somehow brighter by the drink in her system. The space between them seemed so great, and there was something vibrant, but flat about Nyx that made Elmiryn's eyes water. She slowly stretched out a hand toward the girl, and when the youth didn't pull away, she stroked her cold cheek.
Elmiryn trusted the contact.
"I like drinking. It isn't a very admirable habit, but I do it when I can." Elmiryn's face went blank and she took back her hand. "I think differently like this. Sometimes what I come up with isn't the brightest of ideas...but there's sincerity here," Elmiryn pointed emphatically at her head and looked at Nyx pleadingly. "I'm sorry. I'm. Sorry. It won't happen again. I swear on my mother's life."
Nyx flinched and hurriedly took the woman's shoulder. "No, no, no! Never do that. Ever. Not for me. The way you're acting it's as if you're afraid I'd leave. I still have my debt to you, remember?"
"Your debt." Elmiryn rubbed at her eye and placed a hand on her hip. Her nose tickled, and she wiped at it a little more forcefully then necessary. "That's right. You're still indebted to me. For saving your life."
The youth nodded, now watching Elmiryn carefully. "Yes," she said slowly. "That's right." She indicated gingerly toward the inn. "Let's get inside. We should rest if we're to set out tomorrow..."
She led Elmiryn by the arm toward the inn, where they entered. The company inside had dwindled to those that were staying the night. The stairs that led to the second floor were at the back across from the bar. Nyx pulled the warrior along to their room.
Elmiryn cherished this. The sudden care that rested in her companion's touch. There were dying embers of anger in the girl's eyes, but a softness was coming over them that the warrior wanted desperately to believe in. She wouldn't say it, but Nyx was sobering. Perhaps because the woman rarely found herself in the company of such a person, or because any individual she found herself with in the past had never been expected to remain past morning.
"Nyx," Elmiryn whispered as they entered their room--two beds on either side of the modest space, their things at the foot of each. "I lied earlier today. I did." The warrior muttered as she was led to her bed, where she sat on the edge ungracefully. The world was getting too heavy. It didn't swing or sway in an ideal way, but a way that made the woman wish to close her eyes and fall to nothing.
Elmiryn was beginning to feel small again.
Nyx placed her book on her bed and knelt down onto the floor, where she began to untie her companion's boots. "What is it, Elmiryn," she asked, distracted with her task.
"There's some more conditions. Besides the one I told you. You've really gotta know."
The girl looked up at her, her eyebrow raised. "Yes? What are they?"
"Stay with me. As much as you can. Please."
Nyx frowned at her. "Elmiryn, I am with you. I told you, I won't leave." She tugged off one boot and set on the other.
Elmiryn shook her head, brows pressed together as she leaned down. "No. I mean stay with me. You don't leave my side unless you've got to, okay? You're my anchor. You're my anchor now, and if staying with me means getting angry and calling me an unfair bitch in front of other people, then so be it--but don't you go. Please promise me."
The youth gazed up at her with a look that Elmiryn couldn't quite pin. "All right... Okay, Elmiryn. I...I promise." she said quietly.
Nyx pulled off the last boot and the woman shook her head, a smirk now flashing on her face. "And that's another thing..." she began, voice low and thick as she laid back onto the bed.
"What?" the girl asked, pulling the sheets over her.
"Call me Elle. Having someone like you calling me by my full name just makes me feel old." Elmiryn's eyes closed for a moment. Then they snapped open again. "...And y'know, it really isn't fair that I can't call you a cute pet name. Your name's already short. So unfair. That is just really unfair! ...And hey, wait a second! You didn't tell me what callow and fatuous meant!"
Nyx offered an exasperated smile and patted Elmiryn's arm.
"Good night, Elle..."

Preconceptions
ELMIRYN________________________
A maiden asleep in her canopy bed.
A poor picture.
Elmiryn reached out and touched her cheek.  Cold beneath the fingers.  Skin, once smooth like a babe's, now sticky and rubbery as if a thin layer of mucus covered her.  How could thought reside here?  How could life reside here?  The warrior smelled almonds and rotting wood.   Her eyes strained vainly to see more than fine white lines in a canvas of black, the definitions feeble and shifting as she leaned in closer.
"What are you doing here?  Cursed child, you aren't supposed to be here!"
Her father's voice.  She turned in the direction she heard him from, and saw a vague outline of a man.  Elmiryn blinked and opened her eyes wide.  Her head hurt from trying to see him fully. "Father?"
The man came towards her menacingly.
Startled, the woman stepped backward with hands before her.  "Now wait a minute, I–" Her words were cut short as her foot fell through air.  Her body careened backward into a dark pit, where she lost all sense of self.

____________________________

Elmiryn awoke with a small shout, her body shooting upright as she stretched out a hand.  Confusion flashed quick over her face, and she gazed at her own arm before letting it fall against her again.  She glanced over at her companion.  Nyx was still asleep.
"Nightmare," Elmiryn muttered to herself.  She let her eyes glaze over as she unbraided her hair, the motions of her fingers somehow comforting in a way.  When she finished, she stood from the bed and left the room.
The inn keeper was up, already preparing for the day.  She took a moment to prepare the bath for the warrior and Elmiryn tried to relax in the water.  Afterward she came back up to the room to find that Nyx was still asleep.  Elmiryn went to her bed and crossed her arms, her damp hair framing her face.  The youth was frowning, her hands clenching and unclenching, faint whimpers coming from the back of her throat.
Elmiryn rubbed her eye in a brief show of exasperation.
...Rats?  Sure.
"Nyx." She shook the girl's shoulder lightly. "Nyx. Wake up."
A groan. Nyx shifted so that her face turned into the pillow, away from Elmiryn. "Mmmrph."
Elmiryn rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "How is it that I'm awake before you are?"
"You're right." Nyx mumbled, turning her head enough to offer a sleepy glare. "You should correct this grievous mistake and get back into bed. You ought to be hung over worse than a opossum."
"What does a opossum have to do with it?"
"Go back to sleep and I'll tell you."
"You can't tell me if I go back to sleep."
"That's the idea."
Elmiryn's shoulders shook with laughter as she tried to keep quiet. The battling suns had barely colored the sky with their blood and the streets were still delicate in quiet.  Elmiryn shook Nyx's shoulder again. "Hey, c'mon.  Get up.  ...Nyx, I will drag you out if I have to."
Nyx whined and hid her head under the blanket. "You always come with the same threat!"
Elmiryn placed her hands on her hips and quirked an eyebrow. "Well! I didn't know I was being judged on creativity!"
"Why do we have to get up so early every day? What's the point?"
"I like to make the most of my days."
Nyx poked her head out and glared squintily. "Aren't you even a little ill from all that drinking you did!?"
The warrior feigned anger. "I was not that drunk. Sheesh."
"Elmiryn–"
"Ah, ah!"
An irritated sigh. "Elle. You could barely walk in a straight line. That's fairly inebriated in my book."
"I could so walk in a straight line!" But Elmiryn grinned coyly and suddenly took an interest in the ends of her hair. "...I just...y'know...needed a running start."
Nyx snorted into laughter, "That makes no sense whatsoever!" She looked back at the woman, her smile spreading so far that dimples appeared in her cheeks.
The warrior grinned triumphantly.  "HA! I made the morning grouch laugh!"
The shapeshifter growled and looked away.  After a moment, she looked back at Elmiryn in what appeared to be earnest. "Would you really drag me out of bed?" she asked quietly.
Elmiryn paused and locked eyes with Nyx.  She leaned down and planted one hand next to the girl's head. "Would you like me to do something else instead?" she breathed.
Nyx kicked the blankets off and scooted upright, the sleep leaving her eyes almost instantaneously.  Elmiryn jerked back to keep from knocking heads together.
"Fine. I'm up," the girl said stiffly.  Her cheeks were red again.
Elmiryn stepped away and began to braid her hair.  She didn't lift her gaze. "I suggest you take advantage of the bath. I took the liberty of heating up some water for you."
"Is it one of those public baths?"
"Yes."
Nyx shook her head, looking away. "No. I'll bathe elsewhere."
Elmiryn gazed at her critically. "Where? We aren't near the stream anymore and there isn't going to be a spring up in those mountains."
"I don't want anyone...to see..." Nyx pointed weakly at her back.
The warrior shrugged. "I'll keep watch. Meanwhile, I'll fix that hole in your collar.  Like I promised."
"...Really? You'd do that?"
She gave the girl a smirk. "I just said, didn't I?"
Nyx hesitated a moment. Then nodded. "All right."

____________________________

When they entered the trail that led through the mountain range, Nyx had still refused to lift her gaze from her newfound book, and Elmiryn was becoming bored.  The warrior looked at the younger girl out of the corner of her eye.  "Where did you get that book?" she asked eventually, voice a little flat as she regarded the item like a dog who had sat in her favorite chair.
Nyx glanced at her, then looked back at the book.  "Some man gave it to me in Dame.  It's like a collection of writings."
"A man?  Do you normally accept gifts from strangers?"
The girl was quick with her riposte.  "Do I normally go journeying with warriors who shoot holes into people's clothes?"
Elmiryn did a light face-palm as a chuckle bubbled up her throat.  "Oh fuck me.  It's been, what?  Three days?  I've already apologized AND mended the hole.  But you'll never let me live that down, will you?"
Nyx gave her a hard look.
The warrior crossed her arms and gazed back at her with a smirk.  "What did I do now?"
"Nothing." The girl looked away, her lips thin.
"No.  Clearly I did something...again. So tell me, what did I do?"
The Ailuran sniffed delicately and turned the page of her book.  Elmiryn marveled at the fact that she had been able to read all this time and not trip or stumble once.  It was enticing in a way.  The girl could keep herself ordered and moving despite a shifting environment.  She tucked this observation away for later use.
"I don't like foul language," the girl mumbled finally.
"You've never cursed?" Elmiryn asked, disbelieving.
"Well of course I have.  ...When it was appropriate."
This made the woman laugh outright.  "When is cursing ever appropriate!?"
"When someone behaves like an ass hat, Elle!" Nyx snapped, glaring at Elmiryn pointedly.
Elmiryn held up her hands a light smile playing on her lips.  "Okay, okay.  I know how grumpy you people get in the morning.  I'll leave you to your reading."
The girl gave her an incendiary look, her arms falling so that the book slapped against the top of her thighs.  "What do you mean...'you people'?"
The warrior looked back at her, unconcerned.  "Ailurans.  Your kind tend to sleep in."
"We do NOT always sleep in.  We aren't lazy."
Elmiryn shrugged.  "Now who said that?  It's common knowledge that most cats are nocturnal creatures.  There isn't anything wrong with that.  If an Ailuran was working all through the night, then I say, LET him sleep in!  He's earned it!"
Nyx's eyes narrowed.  "Fine.  But now you're insinuating that I'M lazy."
"...Insinuating?" Elmiryn repeated, her expression nonplussed.
The girl sighed and rolled her eyes skyward.  "'Insinuate.'  To subtly suggest something."
"Ah."
"So aren't you?"
"You're ASKING me?"
The girl brandished the book at the woman.  "Well I want you to admit it!"
Elmiryn was unmoved.  "But you just said I did it!  Why would I have to fess up to something all ready pointed out?"
"I was only accusing you, all right?  It was not a statement of fact."
"Okay..."
"So?"
"So what?"
Nyx grit her teeth and her grip on her book visibly tightened.  "Did you or did you not insinuate that I was lazy?"
Elmiryn placed a hand daintily on her chest.  "...But if I fessed up to that, it would ruin it!  Like a good joke!"
"Only it isn't a good joke!"
The warrior snickered.  "Not to you it isn't."
Nyx hissed in the back of her throat, and her shoulders and back tensed like a feline puffing up.  Then, suddenly, she took a deep breath and walked a little faster than Elmiryn.  This was amusing to the warrior as the girl had shorter legs, so her quickened pace looked more like she were trying to restrain herself from running.
"I know what you're doing, Elmiryn," The girl said primly over her shoulder.
Elmiryn raised an eyebrow.  "Oh?  What's that?"
"You're bored, so you want to make me curse.  Well I won't."
"You won't?"
"No."
"Not even a small curse?  Can't you call me a cunt?  Or a cream-basted sow?  What about a shit-faced ninny?"
Nyx turned the page she was looking at in her book, her ears red.  Elmiryn was certain she hadn't finished reading it.
Aware that her game was over, the warrior's gaze trailed from her companion to their surroundings, where the climbing path led them through large collections of rocky crevices, around dusty boulders, and past defiant juniper trees.  It was past one of these old marvels that Elmiryn's eyes lit onto an irregularity.
One of the small branches of a low, but aged juniper was snapped off, the branch nowhere to be found.  The exposed wood was still bright and damp.  Elmiryn slowed her steps to gaze past the juniper to the narrow space beyond it.  The place was dark in morning shadow, and no strange sounds came forth.  After a moment, the warrior continued walking.  Perhaps it had only been an animal?
Nyx glanced back at her, only now aware that Elmiryn had slowed down.  "Something the matter?" she asked, her voice still somewhat tight.
"Not really." The woman looked up to see her companion gazing at her with sudden worry.  She smiled at the girl and walked past her.  "There's nothing to worry about, Nyx."
The shapeshifter trailed after her, and the warrior could feel her eyes on her back.  She looked back, and with no real plan in her head, she asked quietly.  "Nyx.  You aren't afraid of me, right?"
Nyx blinked at the sudden question.  "Afraid of you?" she hugged her book to her chest, her tawny eyes turning away.  "I suppose..." she paused and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes.  "In a way, I guess I'm getting used to you.  But you are intimidating at times," then she added, timidly, "Alot of the time..."
"Can you trust that I'd keep you safe?" Elmiryn slowed her steps so that she walked at Nyx's side.
The girl looked at her.  Then nodded.  "Yes.  I believe you can do that."
Elmiryn closed her eyes and smiled.  "Good."
That was when she grabbed Nyx by the nape of her neck and threw her roughly to the ground.

ELMIRYN________________________
A bolt embedded itself into the splintered wood of a tree, the line it cut through the air slicing the place where Nyx's head used to be.
The weight of her knife was an assurance as she turned, dropping her bag and bow onto the ground. Already the heart quickened with the promise of action. Elmiryn slid her right foot to the left and heard, rather than saw, the second shot coming. With an instinctual swipe of her blade, she felt the projectile knock away–but the sound that entered her ears and the shock that traveled up her arm made her pause and blink. The attackers were firing heavy steel bolts.
Elmiryn's cerulean eyes turned, glinting toward the spot she suspected her assailants were hiding. A little further back the way they had come, where the clean break from juniper branch had been. Somewhere there. There were other small spaces between the rocks, little crevices, and just enough shadow from the rising suns to conceal someone.  So many places to hide here.
"One more. Go on!" she barked.  Elmiryn's enemies seemed to pause at her bravado.
Quickly, the woman assessed the situation. She didn't know how many of them were out there, but their hesitation brought up a number of possibilities: the men (assuming they were men) were few in number–small strike teams, though experienced, were typically more cautious; they were inexperienced and so were easily spooked by her lack of hesitation; or they had heard of her by reputation.  It was also possible for a variant combination of those.
Whatever the case, Elmiryn sensed she had some sort of an advantage.  The next step was just exploiting it once it became absolutely clear.
Nyx scuttled on the ground behind her, dirt clinging to her chin and nose as her breath came in harsh gasps. "Oh nine hells...Sweet Aelurus, please...ah..." Her voice trailed away as she tried to gather herself. "Elle, where–"
The girl's words were cut off as Elmiryn leaned back far, and with her free hand, snatched out at the next crossbow bolt that was fired. She felt a sharp sear of pain. Hot blood trickled down her bracer and her elbow through a slash in her gloved palm. The woman's gaze sharpened and without even pausing to look at the projectile or her cut, she bowed her head and stalked toward the place she now was certain the shot had been fired. There was a curse. "Fool!" someone said, before the sharp ring of swords being drawn could be heard.
Two men came out from their hiding places–one from where the juniper tree had been, the other from down atop a jagged rock near it. Elmiryn blinked at them.
No, wait.
They weren't 'men'.
They were 'boys'.
Perhaps in their late teens yes, but still too young to be attempting something this dangerous on their own. The warrior's eyes widened when she heard a scuffle and a squeak behind her, and mentally kicking herself, she whirled around.
Another man, much older with a leathery face and short dark hair that seemed stuck in a puffy state of shock had Nyx held close to him with a knife to her throat. Elmiryn tongued her cheek. She had always been told that 'fighting' and 'protecting' were two different things.  Offense and defense.  Offense was only employed in the instance that all parties could reasonably be expected to keep from failing.  Nyx, though she was a therian, was hardly a warrior.  She'd really have to remember that from now on.
"Drop your weapons, Elmiryn," the man commanded firmly.
The warrior didn't move, her mind trying to find a way out of the situation.
That was when one of the boys behind her cried out in a voice that cracked, "Father! FATHER! It's a therian!"
The man stared at who was apparently his son. He took Nyx's hair and yanked her head far back to get a proper look at her eyes. The girl in question stared up at him fearfully. Without even hesitating, the man raised his knife with the intent of stabbing her exposed neck, fear flashing across his face. Nyx screamed and thrashed, like an animal caught in a trap.  Her compromised position afforded her no leverage to utilize her natural strength.  The girl's voice didn't sound right to Elmiryn, but it occurred to her later that it was because she was trying to attribute the noise to a human, not a therian. An Ailuran no less.
The next few moments Elmiryn found hard to tell anyone in any certain terms. Fighting, at its most heatest, was always a visceral activity. The pull and shock of limbs, the guttural cries, the smell of sweat and dirt mingled...In truth, much of the details of the fight had to be procured from Nyx later, who recounted it with ashen expression and a voice so meek that it felt entirely appropriate to call her a kitten. When asked why it was she could not recall the exact details of the event, Elmiryn explained in ironic tones that the images of the battle had already faded and the only thing left was an aftertaste of emotions and sensations that tingled her body.
She could recall, for instance, the instantaneous pull of her stomach at the sound of Nyx's inhuman screech. She remembered the thrill of the risk she took, turning her back on the two armed boys behind her and flinging the steel bolt at the father like it were a throwing knife. Pain–which shot down her arm from the deep cut she had received. She remembered the sound of crunching dirt as one of the brothers behind her started forward, a growl rumbling in his throat.
When she saw Nyx dodge the man's knife through a timely twist of her body, Elmiryn felt a brief moment of relief warming her otherwise cold skin.  The girl, finally in a proper stance, knocked her captor's hand away and evaded his attempts at grabbing her again.  Seeing this, the woman remembered feeling impatient with herself.  She had to remind herself that her companion was still in danger.
This fact in the forefront of her mind, with adrenaline pumping hot through her veins and a vicious grin spreading across her long lips, Elmiryn drew her knife.  She ducked low, then launched herself backward into the charging boy, stabbing back with both hands.
There was that satisfying dig, the jolt at the hilt of her blade as Elmiryn felt the blade sink into flesh. She wasn't certain where she had got the boy.   Perhaps his hip?   His stomach?   His thigh? Wherever the place, he screamed. Not accustomed to pain. Not accustomed to battle. Elmiryn rocked against him to shift forward, aware of how the knife wiggled and dug in further from the motion.
"Phillip?" the boy's brother said in a querulous voice.
The woman drew her sword next, a hiss escaping her throat as she held the weapon in her uninjured hand. Rather than holding it out in the customary fashion, the warrior instead turned the sword the other way, so that the blade rested against her bracer. Crouching, she held out her sword arm like it were a shield, while near her chest she held her knife in her bleeding hand, ready to fence with it. She smiled viciously, her cerulean eyes locking onto the other brother, who took a step back at the sight of her.
Without hesitation he threw down his sword and held up his hands. "Please," he begged, "Let me just get my brother and leave! I didn't even want to do this!"
Elmiryn quirked an eyebrow at him. She waited a beat, as if weighing her options. Then she heard Nyx scream again, but this time her voice had gravel and weight to it.  The sound was feral, and there was anger in it, one that threatened to spill over if not contained. Without looking at the boy again, the warrior took off at a run towards her friend.
Nyx and the mercenary had managed to migrate from their previous position further up the trail, so that the warrior had to struggle to reach them quickly.  Given her recent assessment, she was surprised to discover what she did.  Surprised, but not displeased.  Looking back with her limited memory, Elmiryn recalled the Ailuran had been doing a fine job of evading the skilled swordplay of the older mercenary. There was the whistle of Nyx's limbs as she did a backflip over a rock, the sharp twang as the man's sword came down and missed. His frustrations colored the air with curses, and every successive swipe of his blade only made them worse.
Elmiryn had been ten paces from them when the man managed to land a blow, however insubstantial, over Nyx's brow.  From where she was, the woman couldn't tell if the cut was deep, but it did begin to bleed profusely. The girl gasped, stumbling back as the blood trickled into her right eye. She squeezed her eyes shut with a groan. The man raised his sword, prepared to deliver a fatal blow.
This particular moment Elmiryn remembered feeling the pull in her stomach again as she readied her knife to throw it.  It wasn't a throwing knife, but she wouldn't reach the man in time otherwise.  She set her sights on the back of the man's skull, but then something happened.
Nyx opened her eyes, and they had changed. Slits where round pupils should have been narrowed against the glare of morning light, and the rich tawny color had turned a brighter and more vibrant shade.
The girl took a deep breath...and roared. Really roared. Or screeched. Or something along those ferocious lines. The sound rattled the warrior's head so much that she actually dropped her knife. Hours later, when recalling the noise, it would make her body tingle and the hair on her arms raise, something scintillating but frightening about how such a sound could come from someone so small. The mercenary stopped too, actually taking a step back when the savage noise hit him full force. That was when Nyx lashed out, her voice spitting from the back of her throat, her hand swinging up from low at her side as she put all her body into the motion.
The blow connected, striking the man on the side of his face. The mercenary was hit so hard, not only did his head snap, but his body spun once before crashing gracelessly into the dirt.
Elmiryn blinked, uncertain of what she saw.
This was when the trance of battle had gone, and the warrior was better able to recall the details of the events afterward. Like the panicked look on Nyx's face in the moments of quiet that fell.
"Oh gods..." she breathed, her hand, still tensed like a claw as blood dripped from the tips of her fingers. She blinked rapidly, eyes reverting back to normal. She held her bloodied hand close to her chest and looked at it. Then her eyes flitted to the man again, her face scrunching up as tears welled in her eyes. "Oh I've killed him!" she wailed.
Elmiryn stooped to reclaim her knife and went to the prone mercenary. He was lying face down in the dirt. She laid her sword down momentarily and turned the man over, eyes narrowed and with her knife at the ready in case he pulled something. Nothing. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head, and at the side of his face were four bloody gashes. The warrior put her ear to his nose and mouth.  She pressed her fingers to his neck, feeling his pulse. He was breathing and his pulse was a bit fast. She looked back at Nyx. "He's alive, and he'll stay that way. The cuts you gave him are deep. They'll leave scars, but that's hardly fatal."
Nyx didn't seem convinced. She held her hand at the wrist as if afraid to let it go anywhere else. "I could've killed him," she breathed shakily. "I used all the strength I had. I could've killed him." She looked to the ground, and muttered something in her native tongue, then grit her teeth, as if furious. "You loathsome beast..." Nyx hissed lowly.
Elmiryn shook her head, "No, Nyx. An Ailuran at their fittest could kill a human with one well-placed strike. No offense, but you aren't at your fittest. You didn't even hit him in the right place. Warriors typically strike their opponents at the temple, to better shatter the skull and destroy the brain. If that doesn't work, then the damaged temple vein would be enough to kill them later if not treated," she gripped the man's chin, and gave it a harsh jerk to the side, eliciting a squeak from her friend, "The other place they would've struck would've been the jaw. Hit it right and either the jaw is dislocated or broken."
Elmiryn looked at Nyx and shrugged, her hand resting on the man's arm. "You don't have to worry.  You hit nothing vital, and your attack was all claw–you went through him like butter, but that doesn't provide the force necessary to snap the neck."
Beneath her touch, the woman felt the mercenary stir. It wasn't quite shifting, more like a jerk. Eyes flashing, the woman turned lighting quick and with a steadying hand on the man's armored chest, she raised her knife for a fatal strike.
As her hand came down, she felt Nyx's hand stop her. The girl may not have been at her fittest, but she was still incredibly strong. Despite Elmiryn's protesting pull, she didn't let go. Bewildered and somewhat angry, the warrior turned to glare at her. "What are you doing!?"
"What are you!?" Nyx shouted back incredulously.
Elmiryn looked at her as if she were stupid. "I was going to kill him. What does it look like?" Beneath her, the man gasped, shifting under her hand. The woman turned her attention back to him, striking quick, and gripped the man by the throat with her fingers pressed in around the esophagus. She could feel his heartbeat, quick, under her fingertips. He gripped her arm, but he was weak and under her control. Her lips curled into a sneer.
Nyx's grip tightened painfully. "Stop it." she hissed.
Elmiryn looked at her again, teeth bared. "Why are you protecting him!? He was trying to kill you!"
"But the fight is over! Let him go back to find his sons!"
"And let this snake try another fast one on us!?"
"What the HELL are you talking about?"
"He just tried to pull some stunt just now. I swear, he has a knife hidden somewhere." Elmiryn looked at the man, her eyes like blades themselves. "You do, don't you?" she growled, increasing the pressure on his throat. The man gurgled, his face turning a deep red.
Then Nyx punched her in the ear. The blow hurt, but not much. It was enough, however, to send Elmiryn off the man and onto her side on the ground. Flabbergasted, the warrior held her ear and looked at the Ailuran as if she had gone mad. "You've really lost it, haven't you!?"
Nyx stood over her, shaking her head. Her eyes held in them a bewilderment to match Elmiryn's, but in them was also a strange combination of fear and resolution. "I can't let you kill him, Elmiryn," the words barely seemed to make it out of her mouth. She was shaking so much.
The warrior blinked up at her. Odd how tall the girl seemed all of a sudden.
The Ailuran turned her gaze away from her and looked to the mercenary, who was coughing and blubbering pitifully. Slowly she went to him, and he let out a yelp as she knelt by him. "Sit still, unless you want me to hit you again," her voice was grave as she said this. Any other time this threat would've been laughed away, but the man blanched and sat frozen as he looked fearfully at Nyx.
The girl patted him down, even taking off the man's armor to check beneath it. Elmiryn realized that she was searching for the hidden weapon she had claimed was there.
"His boots," she said, pointing.
Her mind pulsed with the absurdity of this–if the man had taken the blade from his boots, he would've had to sit up to reach it.  She had kept him down the whole time.  Still, she felt like she had to argue her point to the ends of the earth.  Otherwise...
Nyx gave her a brief look, then took off the man's boots. It was such a weird scene, this small girl stripping this grown man of his things while he looked at her in terror. It was easy to disconnect from, and Elmiryn did just that. The feelings she had been experiencing slowly faded into nothing, and she watched the events unfold with better clarity, like a person at a play. It was only when Nyx spoke to her that she made a concentrated effort to reconnect to what was happening.
"There's nothing Elle." The girl looked at her and Elmiryn stared back.
"Nothing?" she asked.
"Nothing." Nyx looked at the man. "Go."
The man fled, haphazardly collecting as much of his things as he could. Elmiryn frowned and looked down at the ground. "But...I was certain..."
"What evidence did you really have? I mean really?" There was an edge to Nyx's voice.
Elmiryn looked up at her in confusion. The moment the man had stirred was already becoming hard to visually recall. The images in her head were blurred and bland. She touched a hand to her ear again, which was throbbing. "It just...seemed that way," she muttered.
"It seemed?" Nyx echoed. "You were just working off an assumption then!?"
The woman clenched a fist. "In such situations sometimes that's all a person has! I couldn't sit and debate whether or not I was right when–"
"But that's the problem Elmiryn! It didn't even SEEM like he was going to kill us! I was watching him, same as you were!  How could you read the situation in such a dangerous way?  You're a skilled fighter, can't you tell the difference!?"
"But he really looked like he was going to do it!" Elmiryn argued stubbornly. She shook her head. "It...it really did look like he was...trying to..."
A pause. Neither of them moved.
Then Elmiryn gave a derisive snort. "Fuck, Nyx. Who on Halward's Plane strikes a person in the ear like that!?"

NYX____________________________
I would just like to say, for those curious, that I find violence execrable. Occasionally my temperament can be found slipping into less than docile tones, but when push comes to shove...I don't fight. Ever. Whether in self-defense, whether out of anger...I just cannot bring myself to raise a hand.
This might inspire in your minds a number of assumptions labeling me as a "craven idiot" or a "sanctimonious hypocrite". Normally, I'd let you think what you will about me. It isn't as if I have much right to change anyone's minds in that regard. But in this particular instance I feel like I have to say something. It isn't so much an excuse as an explanation.
After the incident with the mercenaries had passed, Elmiryn and I resumed our trek through the mountains. She gave me a handkerchief to wipe the blood from my face and I rubbed it away, eagerly scrubbing at the bits that had dried onto my skin until it was pink and stinging. When I saw the flakes of red fluttering away with the wind, something in me clenched and panicked. We had to stop for about ten minutes as I went off to the side and wretched. My skin burned and my bones ached. Inside, my feline counterpart was snarling, and my hand itched with the memory of striking flesh.
The moment had been so quick.
I remember the fear. The palpitations of my heart which threatened to tear out of my chest as the mercenary brought his sword down–there was that insistent spitting and hissing in my head as She grew frenzied in her confined state–
"Cut him, slash him! Idiot!"
Then the pain, the white hot sensation that split my terrified mind in two. Blood flowed into my gaze, and I squeezed both eyes shut as my body became weak.  The world grew distant.  I felt cold and restrained.
Then She roared.
It was my own mortification that managed to wrestle her back into place before she could do any further harm. The sight of that man's face, the feel of his blood dripping from my fingertips.  It was like a nightmare.  One far too real.  I flashed briefly to a cold lonely shack draped in snow–salty tears on my tongue–a room stained in red–
The situation that arose afterward perhaps helped me compose myself, if only for that moment.
During the rest of the day, there wasn't much conversation, and I couldn't bring myself to read anymore of Tobias's book. Night fell. We found shelter in a small den and had jerky and bread for dinner. I could barely eat anything. As the day drew to a close, my mind wandered elsewhere, and I found myself remembering things I didn't want to. Images came in a swirl of hot ash, and my ears tickled with the sound of a deep baritone voice echoing deep within me.
As any middle-classed child in any society, I had gone to school. The equivalent of what some cultures may call a 'teacher' or 'mentor', was what us Ailurans called a 'Navi'.
...My Navi, Leander, hated me.
He was a big broad man with great gnashing teeth, a goatee, and small ears that seemed pinned back. You could hardly ever see them beneath his great mane of wheat-blond hair, which was swept back.  I liked to whisper things behind his back, because I was certain he couldn't hear me–He, who was too damn big and tall to understand reality from my perspective–a child's.
If he's been my size, he'd know about the gaze of spiders, or the scent of irises in the cold of winter. He'd never hidden under a bed, I'd decided, and been afraid of the sounds coming from his mother when a young Tom had come visiting. I doubted he even knew just how much blood could cover the ground after a big battle, how bodies piled over one another in horrific abandonment, or the things dying soldiers whispered in their fading delerium.
He, who was too damn big and tall to understand that all soldiers suffered just the same.
So during lessons depicting tales of valor and honor and other such propagandic nonsense, I'd whisper my own ideas under my breath. There was greater satisfaction in sending these thoughts out into the air versus voicing them in my head. It was as if saying them made them real, and by being real, they were also true.
"Ailurans don't thirst for battle, we hate it. Ailurans don't lust for blood, we gag on it. Ailurans don't deserve power, we deserve peace."
One moment came to me, like a well-lit scene on an actor's stage.  I was nine years old, with longer hair.  During one of Leander's lessons, he went on spinning a tale of how the Unnamed One battled against the evil Champion of Fiamma, the human warrior Legend. I grew annoyed at the biased story, having read more neutral accounts myself from outside books I had, ones that made more sense than anything my illustrious Navi said. I began muttering under my breath again. "The Champion was not a 'champion' so much as a 'defender'. He was no more affiliated with the Fiamma then Leander was. He was hardly evil." I breathed this, and all at once...I found I simply couldn't breath.
Leander had me by the throat, before my classmates, up in the air and flailing wildly. In his amber eyes, I could see a fury burning. In my culture, it is said that a true Ailuran warrior need never shift for the Beast within him to be known. Fixed with those terrible eyes, I believed it. With all my heart.
He bared his teeth at me, then looked at the class. "This," he boomed, "Is a race traitor. This blight on Aelurus's fame belittles her gifts and sympathizes with well-known enemies." He gave me a rough shake. I became frightfully aware of how easily he could break my neck. "Doubtless," he continued, "You have heard her hissing beneath her breath, like the filthy serpent she is–mocking our race's history and our most glorious patrons. She is a shame to her family." He looked at me, and I could see his face had shifted now, smooth like water, to become more feline-like. His slitted eyes narrowed and he flared his wet nose. "You don't think I've heard your trash all these days? Heard you speaking blasphemies behind my back? Do you wonder why I've let you continue for so long, traitorous snake?"
He squeezed.
My fingers dug into his arm in panic and a whine came from deep within me.  His claws were digging into my skin.  Inside, She yowled.
Leander brought me close to his face, and the harsh growl that emitted from his throat nearly made me kick away from him. "Because," he breathed, "Somewhere beneath all your misguided posturing, your other self knows you are wrong, and the day it comes to correct you will be the day blood clouds your eyes. You turn NO minds here. If anything...you only harm yourself."
He dropped me to the ground and I remained there gasping. I looked to my classmates, shame on my face and my cheeks wet with tears I hadn't realized fell. None looked at me. All attention was on Leander as he continued his lesson without a hitch. Numbly I returned to my seat.
This is what I thought about as I stared into the fire Elmiryn had made.
I saw her through the glow of embers and wavering heat, her eyes colored a different shade that made me want to pull my legs to my chest and hug them tightly. The den we were had once been the home of an animal. There were some bones off in the back, and I could smell the dry marrow from where I sat. Outside, the winds howled.
Elmiryn was sharpening a stick with her knife. She had a blank look on her face, and though her eyes were directed towards the stick itself, she didn't seem to focus on it. She had treated her hand without asking my help–simply cleaned it with her bottled water, stitched it up, then wrapped it. The way she worked on the stick made it seem like her injury barely fazed her.
The fire between us crackled and spat. The stone walls and the sandy ground were painted in its warm glow, but the effect of the dancing flames was unsettling–nothing seemed to sit and remain in one place. I wanted everything still, as I was.
I took the heel of my palm and dug it into my right eye. The cut above my brow had all ready healed and left no mark, but the horror of having my own blood blind me still caused my eye to tickle as if something was in it that wasn't supposed to be. My mind flashed back to that terrifying moment, but I shook the memory away. I didn't want to dwell on the experience.  It led to darker things and I didn't want to feel such thorny recollections.
But then Elmiryn's voice broke the silence.
"Hey...Nyx."
I looked at her and tried to relax. My heart began to pound when I found her eyes looking my way. "Yes...Elle?" I was finding it a little difficult to remember to use her silly nickname. It felt incongruous in my mouth.
"What happened exactly...during the fight from before?" she asked slowly.
I blinked at her. "You don't remember?"
"I remember feelings. Sensations. There's a few choice moments in my head that I can vaguely recall but for the most part..." Her voice was flat. The sharp melody that was uniquely hers wasn't so much gone as just...tucked away, beneath a blank expression and concentrated stare. Her eyes reminded me of glass.
I went to rub my eye again and found that my hand shook. "Do we really need to talk about it....I mean...must we?" I didn't like the tinge of desperation in my voice. Shamefully I looked away, toward the mouth of the den where I could see faint light from the burgeoning moon illuminating the Earth.
"You were scared." Elmiryn stated, resuming her stick sharpening. "Don't you think it might make you feel better to talk about it?"
I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about it, Elmiryn." I closed my eyes and corrected myself. "Elle."
"It's important," the warrior pressed, her voice hardening. "A conflict like this can be good in pointing out issues in a group.  Put simply, we've definitely got issues."
"Why bother?"  I snapped acerbically.  Even as the words left my mouth I wished I hadn't said them.  I wasn't a contrarian, by nature.
"Because you've got to learn how to defend yourself," Elmiryn said, a steel edge to her voice that wasn't quite contempt, but it wasn't very forgiving either. "And I've got to get used to having someone to protect.  We've got to help each other out and be prepared for an instance in which we get separated."
"And what?  You propose planning for the unplannable?  The variables that could arise in any given situation are just too much to factor in to any general strategy."  Okay, so maybe I was something of a contrarian.
"Not so." Elmiryn answered. I could feel her eyes on me again.  "If you could throw a proper punch, than you could incapacitate any enemy threatening you.  I'm a decent fighter, but I'm not omnipotent." She quirked an eyebrow and her lips curled into a teasing smile.  "I mean, if you go punching people in the ears all the time, then hell, we're both screwed."
I crossed my arms and huffed, my eyes narrowing, "Well it worked well enough on you!" A growl crept into my voice.
"But on someone else?  Someone who hasn't got their back turned to you, who's maybe wearing a helmet, and has a big, big axe?"
"I told you I can't fight."
"And that's fine.  But you'll need to learn.  Otherwise it's unrealistic for you to journey with me.  Come on, Nyx.  Don't tell me you didn't think about that!"
"Well you didn't exactly perform so resplendently yourself." There was a brief pause.  I elaborated, but not before a brief eye-roll. "Resplendent; brilliant or splendid."
"Okay, okay...now that you've sufficiently recovered from your...ah...shock, I guess you'd call it...why don't you tell me what happened today in detail."
"You want me to re-tell what happened?  You know, half the time I was trying not to be cleaved in two, right?"
"I know you remember more than I do.  Go ahead and start."
I stared at her, dumbfounded.  Then I recalled what she had told me before about her curse, and one of the things it affected.  Was her memory really so faint?  Chagrined and anxious, I recounted the conflict, as best as I could.  She nodded to some things.  To others, her eyes seemed to grow more distant.  These moments made me nervous.
"Who would want you harmed?" I asked.
"They didn't want me harmed, they wanted me to go with them," she corrected in a tone that was a little too placid for me.
"Elmiryn!" I snapped, feeling my anxiety break over. I buried my hands in my messy locks and pulled hard, trying to reign in my frustration, then took a deep breath. Recounting the ordeal from earlier that day really made me uneasy. How could I handle being at Elmiryn's side if I couldn't handle this one thing? "Who would want you kidnapped..." I asked as I exhaled the breath I had been holding.
The warrior was undoing her long braid.  She took a moment before answering, her gaze lowered to the ground. Then a light smirk lit her face and she said with closed eyes, "I am wanted for performing illegal witchcraft."
I stared at her. "Black...black magic? You??"
"I've been accused of it. But I think you've been with me long enough to know I don't know an ounce of the stuff."
"But that's a serious offense! Whatever society you go to, black magic is abhorrent! Just where exactly was the offense brought up!?"
"...Fiamma."
I paled. My gaze flickered to where her sword lay next to her, the jeweled pommel winking at me in the firelight. "Elmiryn...Elle...when you say you got that sword from...from someone...else..."
She gazed at me levelly.  Then took her sword up into her lap.  With her hair down about her shoulders, she looked...feminine.  In a way that was awkward, but not altogether bad.  Elmiryn began to stroke the scabbard where the blade was sheathed and said with a hint of laughter in her voice, "I got it from a Fiamman soldier."
"Why didn't I recognize it," I muttered rapidly to myself, a sense of panic overcoming me as I shifted where I sat. My limbs and spine tingled. I looked to the mouth of the den, my mind thinking the word, "RUN." All day, in my anxious state, my skin had felt hot and stretched. The creature in me was clawing at the surface, angry at me.
"Weak-minded, poor excuse for a–"
"I guess I don't have to tell you that there'll be more of those kinds of men looking for me, then," Elmiryn said. Her voice seemed to be returning to its usual alacrity, but it did nothing to make me feel better. "Fiammans are pretty dogged about carrying out the law."
"Why didn't you tell me the Fiamman kingdom has a bounty on your head!?" I screamed shrilly, finally jerking up to my feet. I was shaking harder than ever. My fists clenched to the point that my nails threatened to break the skin. "And for something so serious! They'll hunt you to the ends of the Earth!"
"So I guess you aren't the only outcast."
"That doesn't make me feel better!" I jabbed a finger into my chest. "And for the record, no one is hunting me!"
The woman's eyes narrowed a fraction. "Nyx, you don't need to shout, I'm right here."
"I think I have every reason to shout! You weren't honest with me! Surely you were aware of that little thing called the Fiamman-Ailuran war, which, by the way, is STILL going on!! Did you know, that just for being near you, they'll skin me alive?  They want me dead on principle.  It doesn't even matter that I'm Marked!  Did that ever go through your addled mind!?"
"Nyx–"
"They'll kill me just for BEING with you, don't you get it!? I'm dead! Is your discernment so impaired that you couldn't even figure that out!? You couldn't protect me against some amateur mercenaries–just what in the nine hells do you think you'll do when they send professionals after you? Assassins, wizards, PALADINS–"
"Nyx!" Elmiryn was on her feet. She was blinking rapidly at me as an uncertain frown came over her features. She held up her hands. "Would you just rela–"
"I'm not going to relax. I can't now–knowing that my death'll come following around a flagged felon on a suicidal quest! They'll kill me, or you'll kill me, or maybe I should just kill myself and save everyone the trouble! Oh sweet Aelurus how did I get into this mess!? I didn't ask for this, I didn't ask for any of it!  I was starving. I just wanted chicken for one night, but instead I get you–"
In my rant I had gone to my things, picking them up in a sort of rabid fervor. I was speaking so fast that there was hardly breath left in my lungs, but I knew what I had to do. I just needed to run. I was a fast runner, who could catch me? I could fade away and things would be okay again. Everything about me was hurting, and the pain was making me clumsy, but in a strange way it drove me. If I ran, I could outrun the pain, outrun the nonsense and the confusion and the death that was surely going to catch me here...
But a vice-like grip around the back of my neck literally made me stop in my tracks. I was half-way out of the den when my tongue stilled in my mouth and my body went limp. Elmiryn pressed me down to the ground into a kneeling position, using all her strength.  She didn't need to.  My breath slowed until my chest rose and fell in an almost sleepy rhythm.
"Relax, Nyx." Elmiryn murmured over me after a minute.
She stayed there for a moment longer, her cold hands holding me in place, before she released me and stood to her feet. I rose slowly and rubbed the back of my neck, the calm still over me as I gazed at her wonder. "How'd you know to do that?" I mumbled. "That...I haven't had someone do that to me since I was a child."
Elmiryn shrugged and went to sit next to the fire again. "I heard somewhere that if you managed to hold an Ailuran firmly by the nape of their neck, they'll sort of go limp and calm. I wasn't sure if it'd work." She crossed her legs and looked up at me. "Your eyes went cat and you were kind of...panting...like you were close to losing it. I wasn't sure if that was the case but you seemed pretty out of it anyway."
"My eyes shifted?"
"Yes. Y'know...I've been meaning to ask you. You said that shifting hurts for you. Because of that Mark. But you don't seem to notice if your hands or eyes change. Why is that?"
I blinked at her, then looked at my bandaged hands. I never really had given it any thought. Of all things for the body to shift, the eyes and hands were always the easiest. But given my curse, wouldn't even that hurt me?
"I don't know." I said finally. With legs that felt heavy and stiff, I went to sit back in my previous spot near the fire, laying my bag onto the ground gently.
Elmiryn gestured toward it with her chin. "If you don't mind my asking, what have you got in there?"
I glanced at her, then picked up the bag. "This...it just has a lot of little trinkets. Nothing special, or particularly important.  Well, I mean–to me they're important." I emptied the bag and laid the contents out before me in a neat line. Elmiryn came to sit closer to me as I explained each item.
"This," I said pointing at a small jade figurine of a nude woman with a cat's head, "Is my goddess Aelurus, blessed in one of our temples. It serves no other real purpose aside from protection and comfort...I'm beginning to wonder if it even works for me anymore."
Next to it was a dented tea strainer. It was rusting in some places.
Elmiryn pointed at it. "And why do you have this?"
"Uh," I rubbed the back of my neck and my cheeks burned. "I traded for that when I was younger. An elf merchant had come by our village and he had so many weird things. This one caught my eye."
"But why did you want it?"
"It makes a whistling sound when you twirl it through the air..." I mumbled incoherently.
Elmiryn seemed to get the gist of what I said and giggled.  I continued, a little sullen. "This is a pebble I took from Ebon Lake, near my home...this is a whistle I got as a gift from my mother–it doesn't work anymore...this is an amulet of the three suns I bought a little bit before I was Marked, and this..." I faltered as I came to the last item.
The warrior looked at me intently. "Nyx?"
"This belonged to my little brother," I finished quietly, picking up a simple gold ring. "He died.  The government had auctioned the ring off after they burned him.  I stole it back."
"I'm sorry," Elmiryn said automatically.
I put my things away, all but the book. Gingerly I picked it up and stared at the cover.
My companion shifted next to me. "What is that book about?"
"Huh?" I looked at Elmiryn.  I'd been lost in my own thoughts.
"That book," she said pointing at it. "What's it about? You never said."
I rubbed the back of my neck again. "I'm not entirely sure...it has poems, some loose stories, and random thoughts scribbled in...but it all seems to be about a man."
"Is it about the man you spoke to?"
"Yes...well, no. I don't know. I think so. Sort of."
Elmiryn offered a bemused smile. "Well which is it?"
"The person the poems and stories talk about is never described in detail. Just the things he does. He's only referred to as 'Earth'. There are others too, but it mostly follows that one man. He sounds like a Legend."
"Can you read me something?"
I gave her a startled look. "Read you something?"
She propped the side of her head on her fist and her smile curled more at the corners. "Is that too hard?"
"Well of course it isn't," I snapped. I flipped open the book to where I had left off. My cheeks colored and I cleared my throat as I began to speak.
"We three of the Earth, Wind, and Flame stood on the precipice overlooking a city whose white glow diffused–"
"Diffused?"
"Spread out."
"Ah."
"Whose white glow diffused like a sigh into the dark chilly air. Said I to Flame, 'Doth thou hear the singing, dear friend? It comes from that place there, nestled and warm in its light.'
"'Aye,' said Flame, whose bronze hands drew her curved sabers without pause. 'I am fain for a chance to test my new companions,' Fain; eager or ready. Whoever the writer is used an older and more formal form of speech, much of the time." I explained before Elmiryn could ask again. "I'd say he speaks this way all the time, but I'm guessing this was written recently as even the writer can't seem to keep the speech pattern throughout. He comes across as something of an amateur."
"Oh."
I continued reading, eager to find what happened next. It was nice to have something else to focus on. "'I prithee, Flame,' Wind sighed, 'Douse your passion. We have come with a goal, and that does not include the death of an innocent.'
"'This being is no innocent,' Flame spat, 'If my sentiment be conjecture, then so be yours. I'd rather be at the ready then allow myself to be cozened like a babe.'
"'Let us go, anon,' I interjected before the argument could escalate. From our places up high, we traversed down low, into that wondrous valley of sight and sound. The city, was in fact, not a city, but mountains of books that pulsed and hummed with their own ethereal power–of which all Three of us felt. Flame was humbled, Wind was stilled, and I...I trembled.
"A shadow fell over us, and as one we looked up to see that great winged-being descend from his perch from the highest mountain of collected thoughts..."
I continued reading, even as the fire grew faint and the den dark.  I didn't stop until I realized that Elmiryn had fallen asleep next to me.  It didn't annoy me.  I covered her with a blanket, but didn't go to sleep right away.  Instead I gazed up at the crescent moon near the entrance of the den.
Reading and speaking with Elmiryn had indeed calmed me a great deal.  It made me remember simpler times, when I'd read a book to Atalo before bed.  I felt secure in my skin–safe in my state.  But one thought continued to nag me...
If life were more than base propaganda and less than effulgent fantasy, then why did I feel like the moral to a story?

NYX____________________________
I was afraid for the deer.
Which was odd, because...well, I was hungry. How can I be afraid of killing something I wanted to eat? I pondered this riddle as I crouched low, behind some feathery tufts of grass. Was it empathy? Did the deer's size somehow increase the value of its life? Was it the emotion of its soft gaze, the gentleness with which it stepped over the Earth, the beautiful gleam of its coat in the morning light?
Elmiryn had no such doubts as she notched an arrow and readied her bow, her gaze sharp and searing even beneath the shade of the alder tree. She didn't have her armor on–she left all that at our camp–and without them, her arms and shoulders seemed bare. Her hair, usually in a braid, was pulled back into a low ponytail. Defiant strands framed her face, brushing along the ridge of her cheek and teasing the line of her definitive jaw. I could see the strain of her muscles as she pulled her bow taut, eyes fixed on her target as if nothing else in the world mattered.
...As if I didn't matter.
Her usual shirt was discarded for another, much like the sleeveless piece I wore beneath my gambeson. Though it made my face burn, I couldn't stop looking at her. As ridiculous as it sounded, I couldn't get over how I hadn't noticed all those muscles.  All that strength. The muscles weren't bulging in the way that one would think them grotesque or unattractive.  They were just...robust, giving the woman a definitive shape that spoke of power as much as beauty.  Now I could understand how it was Elmiryn could hold the weight of my entire body with one arm. Her strength was prodigious, and the certainty with which she carried herself made me feel...made me feel...
...Terrified.
Earlier that morning, we had come down the other side of the mountain. From where we stood up high, we could see as far as to the ocean. Gamath was easy to recognize–for the area surrounding it was a chalky white and dismal gray. Where we were, we still had a ways before we would reach the town. I couldn't say I was eager to go.
While my thoughts drifted to our destination, Elmiryn let loose the arrow, the sound of its departure making me jump as if it had been aimed at me instead. There was that soft thud as the deer was lost in a cloud of dust...then stillness. I held my breath, my body tensed as I crouched as low behind the grass as I could while peeking over the blades. Elmiryn stood from where she was crouched next to me.
She gave me a smirk. "Nyx. I got it. You don't need to duck anymore."
I gave her a sharp look, something along the lines of disgust and awe welling up inside me. I hadn't even wanted to go with her. I would have been fine at our camp just reading, but the warrior had insisted I join her. I didn't get what purpose my presence accomplished, witnessing this.  I eat meat, and have killed prey with my bare hands before...or rather my claws...but it seemed different from the traumatic shot Elmiryn had delivered.
We stood over the prone body of the deer–a young doe–and I saw where the arrow had struck. In the animal's back, near the spine. Only a small trickle of blood seeped from the wound where the shaft stuck out like a marker. The feline in me perked at the scent of a fresh kill. Her feelings conflicted with my own as the smell of blood and musty fur tickled my senses and elicited a growl from my stomach.
"She knows how to get food," I could feel the Beast think.  Words were beyond her, but the emotions that came through were unmistakable.  Her paws padded along my mind as she impatiently paced. "This warrior is good. This warrior is better than us. And she gives us food."
"Help me drag this thing back to camp," Elmiryn said, kneeling.
I did, the ability to speak lost as my small hands gripped the lifeless limbs of the doe. We made it back all right. Flashes of ripping into the corpse with my claws and teeth flashed through my head as I set the body down, but I swallowed and fought the images to the back of my mind.
Elmiryn finally noticed my discomfort.
"What's wrong? Does meat disagree with you?" She asked as she inspected the corpse more closely. The corners of her lips twitched in a suspicious manner.
"No," I managed to say. "I just...well, it's been a while since I've found myself in the presence of such a large kill. It's getting to me a little." I turned and crossed my arms high on my chest, taking a few steps away.
"I can cut this up elsewhere if it'll make you feel better."
I shook my head, my shoulders hunching around my ears. "It won't matter. I'd smell it wherever you went. The scent's on me, the scent's on you..."
"How haven't you come across this sort of thing while you were out there wandering on your own?"
I looked back at her over my shoulder, a light frown on my face. "I'm not sure. I have bad luck–so serendipitously finding a dead animal, even one that's been dead for days, just never seemed to happen." Then I added without much pause, "Serendipity: when one makes a fortunate discovery."
Elmiryn made an "o" with her lips. She straightened clapping the dirt off her hands. "Well, we can use just about all of the deer. You've got a healthy appetite, and so do I. Whatever we don't eat we can save for later or give to the people at Gamath. I suspect we'll be there by nightfall."
She went to her bag and pulled out two knives in their sheaths. When she pulled them out I saw that the shape of the blades seemed less like they were meant for combat, and more like they were intended for culinary use.
The warrior's sharp blue eyes lit onto my face, and she brandished one of them at the dead deer. The blade was short, but the handle was long. "I suggest," Elmiryn said as she knelt down onto the ground. "That you either take a walk or try and distract yourself. I'm about to start skinning this thing right now."
I shifted uneasily. When I spoke, my voice was hoarse. "I told you it won't matter if I leave."
"So distract yourself then."
"How?"
Elmiryn thought, tapping the handle of the skinning knife on her chin. "Let's play a game."
I gave her a deadpan look. "While you're carving an animal corpse?"
"You tell me about yourself. Using single words."
"...Pardon?"
"Five syllable words," Elmiryn added with a grin. Her angular face seemed a little flushed and for a brief moment I wondered if she were drunk again.  Did she have a flask somewhere that I didn't know about...?
"Elmiryn I can't–"
"Of course you can. I bet you can come up with a word for how you're feeling right now."
"Yeah. Exasperation!"
The woman gave a jovial laugh.  "See?"
I placed my hands on my hips and shifted my weight to one foot.  My mouth was a crooked line.  "I really don't think it'll work."
Elmiryn looked at me. Then shrugged. "Okay. If you say so." That was when she filleted the deer from the gut to the chin.
The beast in me snarled at the sight of red life spilling onto the dirt, the tumble of dark purplish organs, the gleam of the exposed rib cage. The smell that hit me literally made me reel. I spun back around, horrified. "Disquietude! Fe-feelings of anxiety that c-cause one to become tense!!" Even I could note the lower pitch of my voice, the growl that tinged my words.
"That's four syllables." Elmiryn said calmly. I couldn't see her expression, but I could imagine her smiling. Why did she find these things funny?
"Fine! Pestiferousness; something akin to evil or general annoyance."
"Good!" I could hear a slop and felt my muscles pull. I lurched forward a couple of yards before I came to fall to my knees near some bushes.
"Okay," Elmiryn said, grunting a little as she worked. "I'll make it easier on you. Give me four syllable words."
"Paralytic!" I bit out, my hands digging into the dirt. "A person affected with paralysis!"
"Now tell me something about who you are."
"Cantankerous. Disagreeable to deal with."
"Oh I wouldn't say you're that."
I slammed my fists into the dirt.  "Right NOW I am!"
"All right, all right! ...Next."
I pulled at the front of my gambeson, fishing for something.  Anything.  "Eruditeness."  I said finally. "Great knowledge."
I could hear Elmiryn pause. "...Being a little gracious, aren't we?"
My entire body coiled as I turned to shout, "Well if you're going to bother me about accuracy–!"
"Maybe we should get you on a topic less likely to rile you up. What about music?"
I swallowed and shook my head.  "I don't know anything about music."
"Think of a song and describe it to me."
The only song I could think of was one that Elmiryn was given to humming occasionally...and I didn't even know the name of it. Still, I put all my focus on the memory of her humming it at the lake where we had fished–trying to dredge up the melodic notes by sheer will. I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my hands over my ears, trying to block out the sound of the deer being skinned.
"Chimerical. Something fanciful." I didn't wait to hear her say anything else. I continued, rambling words as they came to me. "Convivial; Something festive. Euphonious...a...a pleasant sound. Mollifying...to...to...pacify..."
Without warning, my focus gave birth to an elaborate mental image.
I myself made it elaborate, out of desire for distraction, but as silly as it may sound, I surprised myself. I imagined a giant tree with branches of music, outstretching and flourishing at the tips with vibrant leaves that defied strophic confinement. The bark, the sap, the break of light through the canopy, sang to me in no uncertain terms. There was a firmness behind the rhythm and motion of falling leaves and creaking boughs–guiding my thoughts away from downward leading roads and filling my heart with lighter-than-air ideals. I felt myself sinking into the positive energy as somehow the song in my head enveloped my body, like a warm blanket. My face pressed to the grass and my arms went limp beneath the shade of comfort. All around me, a voice much like Elmiryn's echoed the mysterious song. I could feel the beast in me recline, the press of her recumbent form like a weight dragging me down...down...down...
"Nyx! Hey! Wake up! ...Wake up!"
Bloody hands shaking me. The smell made my eyes open, though it still took some effort.
When my vision came into focus, I saw that Elmiryn was peering into my face, a smudge of blood on her chin and an expression I couldn't quite place. Her eyes were wide and shiny, and her lips were parted by the harsh breaths that escaped between them. Her eyebrows were raised to a degree I hadn't quite seen them go before, and they wrinkled her forehead unattractively.
"Wassamatter?" I mumbled, reaching up a hand to her forehead. Those worry-wrinkles of hers were really bothering me. I knew the woman was older than me, but it just didn't suit her.
"You weren't breathing." She said shakily. The warrior grabbed my hand away from her face, gripping it so tightly it hurt. I winced and looked at her. "You weren't breathing, Nyx," she continued. Her voice was frail. "And I checked. I didn't imagine it. You fell over and you weren't breathing and then..." her sentence trailed away.
"Elmiryn, what are you talking about? I was just doing the game, thinking about a song like you told me!" I pulled my hand out of hers and sat up.
...When had I laid down?
"I'm fine," I said. I turned my face away for a brief moment to pick grass out of my hair. When I looked at her again, Elmiryn's face seemed blank, but the muscles in her cheeks and brow twitched occasionally as if they were being forced into the position they were in.
Then it really registered...
Elmiryn...was scared.
This idea was staggering, as in the short time I had known her, the warrior had shown herself to be a great number of things. Among them, one of my chief impressions was of something inexplicably beyond mortal terror. Was she a hiccuping, puerile drinker? Oh, yes. A remorseless woman of combat? Mm, hmm. A cheeky, and blithe conversationalist? Spot on. A person whose countenance could be drained of blood at any sign of trouble?
...It just didn't fit.
And I kept thinking this, even as I reached for her wrist, giving it a firm squeeze. "Elmiryn. It's okay. I'M okay. Honest." I was using the same calming tones I had that night in Dame, but they didn't seem to work. I saw them fall short of the fear that shone in Elmiryn's eyes. Surprisingly, it seemed to make it worse.
My heart gave a small pull, and I reached forward, grabbing her by the nape of her neck and pulling her close to press my forehead to hers. "I'm all right, Elle," I breathed. My eyes were wide and though I didn't mean to, I must have come across as a little pleading.
The skin of her wrist was sticky and stained red, and I was sure she had smeared some of the deer's blood onto my gambeson, but at the moment I wasn't concerned with it. The feline in me was quiet. I felt oddly disjointed...but I couldn't tell if it were due to my counterpart's reticence or Elmiryn's unsettling behavior.
Elmiryn looked at me, her cerulean eyes narrowing. "What song were you thinking of?" she asked in a whisper.
I blinked at her. "I don't know what it's called."
Her face seemed to lengthen by some unknown worry, and she grabbed my shoulder with her other hand. I could feel her tremble. "What song were you thinking of, Nyx?" she asked again, her voice regaining a little strength.
Those eyes bore into mine as she waited for me to answer and I bated my breath, self-conscious under the attention. "It's one of the songs you like to hum. It was the only thing I could think of..." I murmured.
Elmiryn sat back, her gaze widening. The separation left me feeling cold.
I watched her, uncertain of what to do. Her eyes were rolling back and forth in their sockets as she thought furiously about something. Her brows furrowed deep. Her forehead wrinkled again.
"What about the deer?" I asked after a moment.
"Forget the deer right now," She snapped with a severe look in my direction. The woman raised a stained finger, her hair even less tame than it had been before as some rebellious strands fell into her piercing stare. Something about the late morning light on the side of her face and the intensity of her expression struck me as intensely beautiful and I was made to lean back and whisper, "Wow..."
Elmiryn didn't notice. "You listen to me," she said, pointing to herself. She then made a negative gesture with her finger. "Don't you EVER think about that song. EVER."
I scowled at her. "Why? What for?"
"Because it's evil," she said with a flat sense of finality.
"The song's evil?" I repeated incredulously. "Okay...honestly, Elmiryn. I have NO idea what you think may have happened, but I'm sure it doesn't have a thing to do with the song. You were singing it to me after all, and nothing happened before!"
Elmiryn shook her head. "That isn't how it works.  That isn't how it catches you." She stood to her feet, her head still shaking, and went back to the deer corpse. "That just isn't how it works..." she said again.
Elmiryn resumed her task and I sat and watched her, rooted to the spot. Words built up in my throat, yet I couldn't bring myself to say anything, because somehow they didn't seem to measure up to the situation at hand. I couldn't deny I was feeling out of sorts, but I didn't understand the sudden fear that had taken over my seemingly stalwart companion. I tried to recall the images I had seen when thinking of Elmiryn's song, but all I could remember was a faint outline of a tree, nothing more.
As Elmiryn cut up the deer, her actions lacked confidence–just as much as my mind lacked its previous blood-lust and hunger. The scene seemed surreal. Inside, my feline half lay quiet and drowsy. She didn't even perk up when Elmiryn began to fry some of the meat in her frying pan.
I remained that way throughout the meal. Neither I nor Elmiryn ate much. We wrapped up the leftovers and left the deer skin to hang in a tree.
The rest of the day was spent in silence as we made our way to Gamath.
...I tried not to think of how easily my preconceptions had been torn down within the span of 24 hours.

Author's Note As I tried to find my way through life after high school, I found myself in situations that I wasn't entirely prepared for. I retreated into music, finding comfort in the sounds. Then the idea came to me...what if that sanctuary could be taken away?

Ghostly Palms
ELMIRYN________________________
The cold was like ghostly palms pushing against her.
Her eyes shifted to the side to gaze briefly at her petite companion, whose mess of dark locks shielded her expression from view.  The wind was a nefarious agent, breathing death on their skin.  It chased ash around their ankles and the scent of carrion to their noses.
So vile.
Beneath their feet, the grass crunched and crumbled to dust. ...So maybe it wasn't ash? The blades were chalk white versus the fading yellow of your typical dead grass. The alder trees that sprinkled the fields were much the same, brittle clumps of leaves on their gray branches. How could anything be reduced to such a dismal state? There was stark line where this unnatural decay began, separating the green life that spilled from the sides of the Torreth Mountains from the gray death that affected the lands of Gamath.
The city could be seen in the distance.
Elmiryn's eyes again shifted to look at Nyx. It were as if she were afraid the youth would drift away like a stray boat, out into a cold ocean that would surely swallow her whole. She felt like grabbing the girl's hand and never letting go. And why the neediness? Why the fear?
The warrior thought of the moment back at the foot of the mountains and her body tensed. The girl's face to the ground, her chest not moving...
She had looked like the dead deer.
Even as the details of the scene faded, leaving only the horror that shocked Elmiryn's senses, this one picture stubbornly remained–golden–frayed at the edges and lit from behind by intensity of the woman's feelings.
And the Ailuran had no idea what the problem was. Didn't she feel the life leaving her? The cold that swept her skin? Did her lungs not scream for air, her mind scream for freedom, her soul scream from the molestation from evil? Elmiryn hadn't understood immediately what the issue was. The girl had simply stopped talking, gone still on the ground. When she realized what was going on, it had threatened to throw her into hysterics.
Nyx had been like that for fifteen minutes.
But Elmiryn didn't mention this. She didn't tell Nyx of the illusory death that had overcome her for so long a time–too long for any living creature to know. She was certain the girl would completely shut her mind if this fact was mentioned to her. It would be too terrible.
And it was too terrible.
How long before the pestilence stole the freshness from her skin?
"Elle."
Elmiryn stirred from her thoughts. "Huh?"
"I said did you feel that." Nyx was looking at her now, her brows pressed together. She had rather striking expressions, this girl. Elmiryn was beginning to recognize when she was annoyed, when she was genuinely angry, when she was amused or sad. It was all guesswork, of course–her curse made it difficult to judge on appearances alone. But this girl made it...fun. Like it were a game.
Right now, Nyx was feeling afraid.
"It's what he does," Elmiryn said, looking back toward Gamath. "Meznik has spent a lot of time here. It's deteriorated the natural order. You're feeling that push on your eyeballs and the knotted stomach, right?"
The Ailuran gave a mute nod.
"Yeah...it means something isn't right. It means HE was here."
"Do you know what he looks like?" the girl asked quietly. She was hugging herself.
Elmiryn began to answer tentatively. "Honestly...I don't really know. He takes many forms." She shrugged. "It isn't even entirely correct to call Meznik a 'he'. In this language, it'd be more correct to refer to him as 'it'."
"Do you know why he cursed you?"
"...Again, I don't really know."
Nyx kicked at a rock on the ground, her bag of trinkets jingling from the harsh action. "Y'know, I've only read about two other astral demons in history. No one knew what they looked like or why they came either." The girl continued to speak, though her voice was subdued. "There was Izma, who was accused with genocide and the disruption of many royal lineages. Then there was Bao-Gar, who raped noble women and stole riches from Kings..." her voice trailed away.
Elmiryn looked at her sideways. "You're skeptical."
The girl glanced at her, then shook her head. "I don't doubt your sincerity. I don't even doubt the fact that you've been cursed. But astral demons have been laughed out of magical studies due to people's inability to prove their existence–and when you stop to think about it–don't all the stories of Izma and Bao-Gar sound like caste-related paranoia? The kind whispered between the rich and those of noble class? The fact that all these occurrences could be explained away by spiritual hauntings, shape-shifters, enchantment..." Nyx gave a shrug and looked at Elmiryn nervously. "I mean, don't you think it's plausible?"
The warrior looked down at her, her cerulean eyes lidded. "And the sensations you are feeling now...what can you explain that away with?"
"I...I don't know."
"I guess we'll see then..."
"Elle, I'm not trying to insult you. I don't even really think it's that big an issue! The fact of the matter remains–I'm still in your debt, no matter what."
The corners of Elmiryn's lips hitched up into a fixed grin. "Thank you."
The closer they came to Gamath, the heavier the world felt. The woman could feel her boots drag like they were lead, and her breath became labored as a cold disgust washed on the shores of her mind. Nyx fared no better–if anything, Elmiryn was certain she was doing worse. Sweat had slicked the girls ashen face and her shoulders sagged. The warrior remembered Nyx's rule–about proximity–but in this case she found it necessary to offer the girl support by slipping her arm around her, and the youth offered no complaints.
At the limits of Gamath, they stopped.
Unlike Dame, Gamath was much more spacious, and their roads were wide for the passing of carts. The cobbled thoroughfare was strewn with dirt and hay. The pressure that fought against Elmiryn made her head throb, and Nyx had started to lean against her as if she couldn't stand on her own. The warrior's eyes darted between the dark two-story cottages and the abandoned merchants stands. Her eyes lingered on a large pile of animal droppings, dry and untrampled.  The buildings were shut up and quiet.
"They've abandoned this place," Elmiryn murmured. "...Good."
Nyx trembled.  She shook her head. "I can hear something."
The older woman looked down at her with a frown. "What?"
The girl gazed forward, her brows pressing together over her watery eyes. "Claws," she whispered.
Elmiryn heard it growl before she saw it. Several yards ahead, a large shaggy mountain dog with a black coat, a cream snout, and honey-colored paws stepped out from behind the shadow of an overturned cart. The rival suns had fled the sky, leaving the subtle light of the moon, but it was light enough that Elmiryn could see the foam dripping from the mongrel's quivering lips, the madness that glinted in its eyes as its muscles bunched beneath its thick coat.
Slowly, the warrior disengaged from Nyx and set down her bag. She pulled an arrow from her quiver, her eyes trained on the dog, and readied her bow, pulling the bowstring as far back as her chin.
The dog started forward, its claws clicking against the cobbled road as a vicious bark tore from its throat. Nyx stumbled back, falling onto her rear. "Elmiryn!" she squeaked.
Before the woman fired her arrow, a large spear came sailing in a clear arc from further down the road. It struck the mammoth dog in the back, eliciting a short-lived cry before it crashed gracelessly into the ground. Elmiryn blinked, but kept her bow at the ready.
Footsteps echoed toward them. The woman shifted so that her weapon pointed that way. A man came into view, dressed in a noseguard helmet and studded leather armor. He held up his hands and slowed his steps. "Ho there," he called.
Elmiryn took a moment before responding. "Who are you?"
His retort was quick.  "Shouldn't I be asking the questions?"
"Well if you told me who you are, then maybe I could answer you."
The man stared at her, then chortled. He placed a careful hand on his chest. "I am Sedwick. The town blacksmith."
"And what is a blacksmith doing here? With no business?" Elmiryn asked.
"I protect the last remaining residents of Gamath from the mad creatures that stumble through these streets." He tilted his head to the side and his smile turned crooked. "I also protect the abandoned homes from would be looters."
Elmiryn quirked an eyebrow. "I'm Elmiryn." She slowly lowered her bow. "You say there are others here?"
The man nodded, once again starting forward now that the threat of being shot was gone. He reclaimed his spear from the dog's back, placing a firm boot on the corpse and yanking the long weapon out without so much as a blink of his eyes. He turned to Elmiryn. "There's a collection of us held up at the Dripping Cloak, an inn not far from here. Forgive me for being so forthcoming, but I get a sense that you understand what's going on here."
"Word travels fast.  Hard to ignore one of the most important rivers of the East becoming poisoned.  Why would anyone stay here?"
Sedwick shrugged. "These are the sick and poor. When faced with the option of braving the mountains or crossing the river to the next civilized town, there was no choice." His eyes flitted to Nyx, who shrank beneath his gaze. "And your companion?"
Elmiryn glanced at her, then placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "This is my ward, Nyx."
The girl mumbled something, then gave a cursory bow.
Sedwick shouldered his spear and held out his hand. "All right then.  Let me help you with your things."
"No, I think we've got it."
"Mmm...Fine.  Follow me."
Elmiryn gathered her things again. Nyx put a hand to her mouth, then leaned forward onto her knees. The woman placed a hand on her back. "You okay?" She asked.
"It's the air," Nyx managed after a moment. "The smell here it's...Elle, this place makes me feel so sick. I think I might throw up again."
"Don't you dare." Elmiryn began to steer the girl forward, her eyes looking up to see that Sedwick was waiting for them. "Not after all that trouble I went to, vanquishing an animal in the name of your endless hunger!"
Nyx grinned, her head rolling back to look up at Elmiryn. "Okay. Just for you, I'll swallow it down."
"Good. Remember–only the girls who swallow it, get anywhere in life!" Elmiryn winked.
The Ailuran looked at her in surprise.  Then, despite her clear misgiving, she snorted into laughter, her voice echoing down the street as much as through the warrior's head. Elmiryn offered the young girl support again and they proceeded to follow Sedwick as he led them to the only building where lights could be seen.  It looked like a tavern, but the sign was missing.
"It's quiet," She said, looking to Sedwick. "How many did you say were here?"
The blacksmith shrugged. "Perhaps only sixty. A few days ago, there were at least a 100 more, but they've all fled to Tiesmire, to the North."
The man opened the heavy door that led inside, and as they entered, the two were met with more than a dozen baleful eyes. People seemed to be tucked into every possible nook and cranny, the heat from the collected body warmth like a wave of sweat and illness that rolled over them. Nyx, who had previously only been leaning, was now clutching to Elmiryn. The woman, meanwhile, felt her headache worsen, and pressed a hand to her head.
She felt a hand at her elbow, and she looked to see Sedwick gazing at her. "We've had a few like yourself pass through here recently. They fared much the same."
"Why aren't you affected?" Elmiryn asked, spots dancing past her eyes.
The man shrugged as he shut the door. "We've gotten used to it."
The woman shook her head, then winced and touched her forehead again. She looked at Sedwick, then at everyone in the room. "This isn't something to get used to," she breathed, looking back at the blacksmith. "If this keeps on, you'll be as good as damned.  I mean to put a stop to this."
This declaration made the man's brows rise high. "Oh really?"
Elmiryn narrowed her gaze a fraction.  "Yes. Really."
Sedwick gave a dry laugh and clapped Elmiryn on the shoulder. "Don't bother."
He took off his helmet, and his overgrown sandy-gray hair flopped into his wide face, clumped and sweaty. Here in the candlelight, Elmiryn could see the color of his eyes–brown–and how stubble shadowed his jaw and upper lip. His eyebrows were uneven, one side looking as if it had been the victim of a knife. There was a deep cut across the left side of his face from the corner of his eye to his chin, and it wrinkled as he smiled at her and said again, "Don't bother.  Really."
He gestured for them to follow him and they did, stepping carefully over the huddled bodies and limbs.
"The last man that tried to solve our problem never returned.  Some upstart named Aidan.  We gave him the last of our gold–but for all we know he made off with it. There were more that came, seeking payment for their services–but we can't afford it now.  Needless to say, that's still the case.  No...it's best to just leave this to a Legend to take care of. It's what they're good for." He began to climb the stairs to the second floor.
"Legends aren't known for their punctuality," Elmiryn said. She gripped the railing tightly as she tried to drag Nyx up with her. The girl seemed to be losing the use of her legs.
"Look." Sedwick stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to look at Elmiryn with a tired expression.  It looked like a tremendous weight was pressing down on him all over. "You wanna get turned inside out by the guardian? Fine. But don't expect anyone to help you should anything happen. Like I said, we can't pay you either..." and here he sighed.  "IF you are so gods damned set on this, then my suggestion is to get some rest.  A safe place to sleep is as much as we can offer you."
"I intended to go during daylight anyway...Goddamn it Nyx!" But Elmiryn's voice lacked any conviction. The Ailuran was slipping to the steps, her eyes going glassy. Her hair had turned to sweaty clumps, strands of it sticking to her face.
Elmiryn looked to Sedwick, holding out her bag.  "Here take this for a moment."  He did, and she next handed him her bow. "Thanks."
With a grunt, the warrior knelt down and scooped the girl up, much like she had the first night they had met. When she straightened, she groaned and squeezed her eyes shut.  The world lurched, and pain split down the middle of her skull straight into her sinuses.
"This way. There's a spot on the floor for the both of you." She heard Sedwick say. "I'm afraid we're reserving the beds for the sick and children."
Elmiryn blinked her eyes open and followed him. When they came to the last door in the hallway, the woman asked quietly, "Have you any drink?"
The blacksmith looked at her. "What...you mean spirits?"
"Yes."
"Sure, we've lots of it down below. Why?"
"I was wondering if I could have a bit of wine."
"You realize of course that we haven't any water to give you should you make yourself ill, right?  The same goes for food?"
"That's fine.  Oh, and I've some meat there, in that bag.  Deer.  Killed just this morning.  Now the wine?"
The man let out a surprised grunt, pausing as he set the bag down to look through it.  He came up with the wrapped meat. "Thank you!"  He smiled, his scar wrinkling.  "Okay, I'll be back in a moment with your wine...There should be a space in the far-left corner for you in here."
Elmiryn entered the room as he left and squinted in the darkness. She saw that, indeed, the far-left corner was empty, and gingerly made her way there.  On a dresser next to their corner, a collection of candles flickered, offering a small bit of light. She rolled Nyx off her shoulder and laid her down gently in her arms. "Nyx?" she prompted.
The girl stirred, her tawny eyes rolling in their sockets before fixing on Elmiryn's face. "Was'happenin' ta me?" she mumbled.
The warrior brushed the hair from Nyx's face, her gaze going soft. "The source of Meznik's corruption. We're closer to it. That's why we have to take care of this quick. The longer we stay here..." Elmiryn's voice died in her throat as Nyx began to look elsewhere, her tongue slipping out of her mouth, reptilian-like, to trace her teeth and lips. She was trailing her fingertips on the floor, her hand flexing occasionally.  She took a sharp intake of breath and arched her back when Elmiryn placed a hand on her face and forced her attention back toward her.
"...The more we see what he wants us to." The warrior finished quietly, sitting back.
A moment later, the door opened again, and Sedwick came, handing Elmiryn two bottles of red wine. "Maybe you should drink those downstairs," He said, glancing at the sleeping forms around them.
"Don't worry," Elmiryn said before uncorking the bottle with her teeth. "I'm a good lil' drunk."
Sedwick looked skeptical. "Swear on Halward's head that you'll keep quiet?"
"I swear."
"Good." He stepped out of the room.
Elmiryn didn't stop to look at the wine's seal, nor did she put into effect any of the typical customs associated with wine tasting. She simply took the bottle into her mouth and tipped it far back. Some of it dribbled out the corner of her mouth, but she managed to swallow most of it. The feel of the lukewarm drink cascading down her throat was a sort of comfort to her. She stopped to take some air, a little over a quarter of the bottle gone. Elmiryn then turned her attention to Nyx.
"Nyx...here, drink some of this."
The girl's eyes had fallen shut and she had her hands in her hair–she ran her fingers through the uneven strands and forced them through knots with startling force. Each time this happened, the girl would wince and whimper, but she didn't stop. Elmiryn was reminded of a baby pulling its own hair.
She grabbed Nyx's wrist. "Knock it off!" With a sigh, she pulled the Ailuran up into her lap and forced her mouth open with her free hand. "Open up, Nyx. You need to drink some of this." she poured some of the wine into the girl's mouth, and Nyx choked and let out a cry that was certain to wake someone up, but at the moment Elmiryn was too preoccupied to care. When the youth turned her face away, coughing, the warrior took another swig, then set the bottle down.
"I'm sorry, Nyx. You can scream at me later."  Elmiryn could feel the world shift and felt a warmth grow in  her chest.  Her headache had lessened. "But for now, you've got to drink...you've got to see this...as one big joke."  The girl didn't seem to be listening.  The woman took her thumb and wiped away a drop of wine from Nyx's chin.
Surprisingly quick, the youth grabbed at Elmiryn's retreating hand, her face turning to stare at it like it were a mouse.  Then without warning, she took the warrior's thumb into her mouth, biting a little, but mostly sucking.  The woman breathed in sharply at the feel of Nyx's swirling tongue, warm and wet–but just as quick as the moment had come, it was over, and the Ailuran nuzzled back into Elmiryn's lap.
The woman blinked down at her, warmth spreading over her skin.  Then she sighed and scooted over so that she could lean against the wall.
"...Y'know...I'd probably be of the mind to take advantage of this situation if I didn't feel like it'd be one child molesting another."

NYX??____________________________
[Don't do this to me!]
Color invades my world and I feel myself collide with thoughts foreign to me. Something passes through. Weight–glorious, blessed weight pulls at my body. I know this feeling. It happens when the world shifts to truth. A mirrored gaze glints at me from the depths of my cerebral home, and it sears with fear and resentment. ...In moments of anger, I'd say she were angry at me, but that's only for the separation. Who would want to admit to such an embarrassing dimension of personality?
I am Nyx. I am night. I am the finite definition.
But something is wrong. Different. Where is the pain of birth? The transitory agony that invades and renders me whole?
Nevermind…I don't really care.
I take full command like a captain would his ship (ships? captains?) shifting in a curious shape of skin known only to me through dreams and fogged visions. (i feel...longer) I had always tried to imagine the other way in which I think, the other way I feel and see and interact with the world–yet now I find I don't have to. (what's going?)
[She stops and wonders why she--]
"Speaks." I touch a hand to my lips, my eyes fluttering. "I spoke!" Groggily I shove at the lap I lay in, my body feeling odd and uncertain. I manage with some difficulty to push myself upright. It's like my limbs are in rebellion, and I lurch forward, giggling at the funny feeling in my head. "I'm speaking!" I exclaim to my knees.
"That you are, kitten."
I twist around, peeking through my mane to see the candle lit face of the woman warrior.
She looks at me, her eyes like reflective pools, and smiles. "I take it yer feeling better?"
[She takes a long time to answer. Words mash and tumble in her head. She wants to say--]
"They're MY words,"
[But she can't.]
"They taste different," I whisper.
"What tastes different?" The warrior is looking at me, frowning a little. She seems drowsy, leaning her head back onto the wall behind her as she gazes down her nose.
I only shake my head. The feel of my bare skin (wait, what?) brushing along the inside of my gambeson feels horrid. I grimace and pull at my collar, looking down. I tingle. I go to scratch my collarbone, but pause as my hand (hand?) comes into view. I frown at it. Clench it. Give it a nip with my teeth and feel not sharp canines, but dull flat tipped things scrape against my skin. (it's...mine.)
"You okay, Nyx?"
The warrior woman is looking at me again. I hear her sit forward, and she places a hand on my shoulder. I look at it, see the bandage that covers it. Then look at her apprehensively. What do I say to her? She is my companion in dreams, why not in my reality? Why do I hesitate under the feel of her touch?
[Because it is the first time.]
My bewilderment is lined with a feeling of disorientation. The world does not smell right, the world does not look right, the world does not sound right. I take a deep breath, willing my senses to work, but at most I can only pick up the basic scents–finer details eluding me.
Nevertheless, I feel this place is foul.
The warrior is still looking at me, waiting for an answer.
I nod at her.
She takes my chin and turns my face softly so that I look at her full on. "It's just that you keep staring at your hand. You keep staring at it like it's new to you." She sounds uncertain.
"...It's just this place." I say quietly. The words feel thick in my mouth. They come with little effort, but they are foreign to me. This is not my language.
The woman smiles sardonically. "You know...sometimes I look at my hand the same way. I mean, I see that it is attached to my arm, and I can FEEL it...but sometimes I just can't get my head around the fact that its MY hand...Have you ever had one of those moments? Before, I mean, when things were normal?"
I look at my hand again, and flex it slowly. The fingers seem long and grotesque. Then I furrow my brow and purse my lips. "No." I answer firmly.
I don't understand what is going on. I am not as myself. My skin is bare, my face feels flat and wide, my shoulders feel awkwardly placed, and my legs are these silly twigs, with my feet stuck in what I know to be boots, but which I don't inherently get. Aelurus, why would anyone want to wear boots?
The world I see is not my world...it is wavering and smoldering. I try to breathe in deep again, but the stench of sweat and illness makes me gag and I cover a hand over my face and try not to think of the length of my fingers, the wet palm that presses against my fat lips–
[Give me back my body, you abominable miscreation!]
I tense up at the voice in my head. It echoes from deep down, from a place that tastes of my sanctuary. This voice (my voice) is using the words I so awkwardly express myself with. "I wasn't speaking to you!" I snap.
The warrior blinks at me. "Well apparently not."
[How DARE you!  Thief!  Monster!  You stole my words!  Look at you, speaking and thinking as if you were capable of intelligent discourse!]
"These words were never yours to begin with!" I hiss. "If anyone is the thief, you are." I try to shift to my hands and knees–sitting on my tailbone feels wrong–but find my face planting into the ground for all my efforts. The Other roars.
[Charlatan!]
"Stop accusing me! I don't know what happened!" I shout lividly. There are some complaining groans from the others in the room, and the warrior jerks me back into her lap by the back of my gambeson. I give a surprise mewl, freezing in fear of what my punishment would be for making her angry.
"Quiet," she whispers sharply, her breath a hot tickle at my ear. "I promised Sedwick we would bother no one."
A derisive snort in my head. I can feel The Other pacing...four paws, claws lightly clicking on the floor of my mind. (what is this?)
[This is wrong…all wrong…]
Her anxiety (my anxiety) is getting to me. I squirm in the warrior's lap, feeling confined and hot.
"What is going on with you, Nyx?" I hear her snap. She lets me go and I slide to the floor, panting a little. I am curled, uncomfortably so, with my chin to my chest, my shoulder blades digging into the adjacent wall, and my legs parallel to my companion's. My hair is a damp mess, my eyes rolling around in their sockets as I try to sort out my thoughts. Eventually my gaze falls to a fat fly buzzing near my knees. It scuttles backwards haltingly, like it's confused.
I stare at it for a full minute before blowing it with one powerful puff. The thing flips to its back, the legs squiggling in the air dazedly.
"Not even the fly can make sense of itself," I murmur. Then I start to giggle.
[Then she realizes she's giggling.]
And I begin to laugh.
(because this is impossible)
[Then she notices that Elmiryn--Elle--The Warrior, is looking at her like she's turned a funny color.]
Then I laugh harder, and have to bite down hard on my lower lip to contain the noise. The warrior's skin, Elle's skin, Elmiryn's skin, is painted the color of her soul, the way I am dressed in the skin of my dreams.
And I just think that's hilarious.
I hear the woman shift next to me, and a second later her shadowy form is hovering over my shaking figure. She seems a little unsteady, and I wonder for a moment if she will fall.
"Hey...Nyx. Relax. Shh...don't go crazy on me..." She says quietly, stroking the sweaty strands of hair away from my face.
My mind tickles with a memory I hardly recognize, and I look at her. "But...the humor," I say through a smile. "I found it."
"What do you think is so funny?"
I point at the fly, then grin. It's still on its back. Elmiryn looks at it, then back at me with a quirked eyebrow. "The fly?"
I nod.
"It seems weak," she remarks.
I shake my head. "Confused." I blow at the bug again, using more force than necessary, and the thing is pinned to my leg from the force of the blown air, but then manages to scramble to its feet again. I make like I'm going to smash it, but stop, palm literally close enough to feel its wings, then pull my hand away. The fly hadn't moved.
"It's confused," I say again.
Elmiryn gave a nod and sat back, this time so that her back was against the same wall I was against. "Well maybe you can keep it as a pet," Then she snickers and covers her face with her bandaged hand.
I twist around and look at her. In my head, I sift through piles of unusual words. One word jumps out in particular.
"Anacreontic." I say it slowly, carefully.
The warrior looks down at me, sleepy-eyed again. This annoys me. "Hmm...?"
"Don't sleep!" I snap, clumsily pushing myself up.
"I'm not sleeping, just closing my–"
I nip her on the shoulder.
"Ow!" She looks at me in bewilderment. "Did'joo jes' bite me!?" she says hurriedly.
"Don't sleep!" I say again, ducking a little as the weight of her gaze presses down on me.  I'm reminded of the time I bit my mother's tail, because she stopped grooming me.
"Nyx, I think YOU need to sleep."
I shake my head, putting my whole upper body into the action, then giggle again when I have to steady myself.
Elmiryn crosses her arms and frowns, as if thinking. "Hey...what does...anack...anock...anickry...oh damn, what was the word you said earlier?" She looks at me squinty-eyed.
I grin, excited that I know the answer. "A-nack-er...er...." I blink.
[You guessed it.]
"I forgot." I say sheepishly.
( i can't remember ever being sheepish about anything)
------------------------
Downstairs, the ceiling is higher and there are support beams disrupting my line of vision to the other side of the room.  The bar is covered with empty bottles, candles, and bruised fruit.  The bedrolls and the blankets and the pillows have vanished.  Some of the citizens are still inside, passing the time conversing in low tones, reading, or playing a game of some sort.  Outside, beyond the wavery views of the windows, I see that some children are playing near the inn, and some adults are standing there watching them.
I listen as Elmiryn and some young-something with ruddy hair and big dark eyes argue.  The adolescent (can't be more than that) wants to join her to see the river guardian.  He's terribly short, dressed in mismatched chainmail, and keeps fiddling with his over-sized sword belt.
Sedwick joins in.  He's trying to persuade the boy to stay.  I pick up a name.  Baldwin.
I sit quiet to the side, nursing a jug of mead because my inebriation was fading and somehow I got the sense that the people around me wanted me dead.
A-quarter-of-a-jug and one-face-plant later I see Elmiryn standing over me with a critical expression.  At some point I guess I tried to stand again only to find that moving in this form requires a lot more practice and a little more sobriety.  The floor feels comfortable though.  And I see that underneath the bar children have stuck candy there.
Lovely.  Snacks for later.
"Nyx, I had you drink a bit to numb your discomfort and to keep your morale up.  The suns are well over the horizon now.  You shouldn't need anymore!"  She stoops to take the jug.
I only hug it closer to my chest and bare my teeth, glowering at her.
"Your friend doesn't seem quite right," Sedwick says, appearing next to Elmiryn. "Perhaps she should stay?"
"I can go in her place!" Baldwin says.  I agree with him.
Elmiryn, to my dismay, shakes her head as she straightens again.  "She has to be with me."
"But why?" I whine.  "This boy looks far more capable than I am!  Let him go in my place!"
Elmiryn looks at me as if I slapped her.
(i'm sorry.  i'm...scared)
[Do NOT let her go by herself!]
"But she WON'T be by herself–" I begin to say, touching a hand to my head.
[If what is mine is yours, then so is my promise!]
[HONOR YOUR WORD.]
I wince and grip my head.  The jug slips from my hands and spills to the floor.  Heat flashes across my skin, I can hear The Other growling.  I slowly rise to my feet, recalling how Elmiryn had to half-carry me down the steps because I felt so unfamiliar with my limbs.  I steady myself, mead dripping off the ends of my hair on one side, and look up.
"I'm sorry," I say, looking at the warrior.  The words fit better in my mouth, but my joints burn and ache.  "I wasn't thinking clearly.  Don't worry, I'll be with you, Elle.  I won't desert you."
Sedwick and the adolescent stare at me, mouths agape.  The young one has even taken a step back.
Elmiryn frowns and cups my face with both hands.  "Nyx.  What's wrong with you?"
I frown at her.  "What?"
"Your face...it's gone all cat."

ELMIRYN________________________
She took her hands and traced the more bizarre features of her companion like a blind woman.  Her mind jammed, like a broken cog, on this sudden information.  "Nyx looks different.  Nyx has changed...is it even Nyx?"  Smooth skin beneath dry fingertips caused Elmiryn's eyes to slip shut for a brief second before they fluttered open again.
This was her companion, Elmiryn reasoned.  She couldn't logically be replaced by anyone else without first vanishing from sight completely, not even with the aid of magic.  It wasn't a trick of the eye, either.  The Ailuran had indeed shifted her form.
Nyx's fine, round-tipped nose had changed to a low-sloped, dainty thing that was pink, wet, and heart-shaped. Her eyes slanted further upwards and were now host to a slitted bestial gaze. Her lips had turned thinner and pinker, the upper lip gaining a low curve that overpowered the lower lip at the ends. Barely visible from the shadow of her parted mouth were sharp canines and a rough-looking tongue that seemed to pulse with every anxious exhalation.  Elmiryn even forced the girl's head to the side and found that her ears had become pointed and fuzzed at the tips.
After suffering this for ten seconds, Nyx pulled away and fell clumsily against the bar. "Stop it!" she snapped.  A clawed hand touched her flushed face.  She paused at the feel of her sharp nails against her skin, and Elmiryn could see her tongue go to feel the points of her canines uncertainly.
The warrior stared at her, her hands still in the air where she had felt the girl's ears. "Why didn't you hurt when you shifted?"
"She's...she's a therian." Sedwick breathed.  He took a small step forward and shook his head. "I don't know why I didn't notice befo–"
"She'll kill us!" Baldwin squeaked. He grunted, and Elmiryn's ears tickled at the sound of a sword hissing out of its scabbard.
She turned hard on the ball of her foot and grabbed the boy's arm before he could fully draw his weapon. Sedwick jumped back, his hands tightening on his spear as he held it before him. Elmiryn only glanced at him before looking at the boy. "Keep your head on straight," she breathed as her eyes looked resolutely into Baldwin's dark ones. "You think hard about drawing out that sword of yours. Doing so commits you to a dangerous situation. This girl," Elmiryn made a vague gesture over her shoulder with her chin. "Is with me. You hurt her, and you find yourself answering to my blade. Given how there are bigger things at stake, maybe you ought to reconsider getting yourself killed before we head to the guardian?"
Baldwin blinked at her.  His face dripped with sweat. "You...You mean you'll let me come?"
Elmiryn nodded. "Yes. But only if you listen to what I say and think."
The ruddy hopeful looked from Sedwick, to Elmiryn, and back again. The blacksmith relaxed and gave a stern nod.
Baldwin sheathed his sword. "Okay. ...But if she does anything–!"
"She won't." Elmiryn turned back to Nyx. The girl was staring into a reflective plate she had picked up from somewhere on the bar.  Her face had gone slack.
"What's...happening to me?" she breathed.
"Elmiryn, I think we need to have a serious talk." Sedwick said firmly.
Elmiryn gave a brief look around the room.  Those inside the inn were now staring their way, most on their feet and with uneasy expressions.  With a sigh, the warrior took her stunned companion by the shoulders.  "In a moment," she said to Sedwick before she guided Nyx to the darker side of the inn, where they sat at an empty table away from the others. The warrior sat across from the girl, with her elbows on the wooden surface and her hands interlaced.  She pressed them to her lips as she gazed levelly at the Ailuran.  "You didn't feel the shift happen?" she asked quietly.
Nyx looked at her, still holding the plate.  She was shaking, and her eyes shined with tears. "I...didn't." Elmiryn noted how the girl's head seemed unsteady and her gaze fogged.
The woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  When she opened them again, she said, "...Were you lying to me about the Mark?"
There was a great pause.  Elmiryn's eyes fixed onto Nyx's flushed face, and the table seemed to lengthen between them.  The youth's mouth curved downward at the ends, and her eyes narrowed.  In anticipation, the warrior leaned back.  Her eyes blinked as she saw Nyx stand roughly, her chair knocking to the floor.  The image of Nyx, her animal countenance, became irresolute.  But Elmiryn's attention was drawn away from the girl's face when the Ailuran took the plate she held and threw it to the floor, where it shattered loudly. "How DARE you!" she screamed.
Baldwin made a move for his sword again, and Sedwick started forward as if to intervene.  The others in the room fled outside, curses and exclamations falling from their stuttering lips.
The woman was on her feet, hands held up.  She looked at Sedwick and gave a harsh shake of her head.  The man ceased his advancement.  He looked to Baldwin and made a negative motion with his hand.  The youth soured, his chubby face going red, before he sheathed his sword again.  Elmiryn looked back at the Ailuran across from her.  "Nyx. Sit. Down."
Nyx began to pace, her hands tensed so that her clawed fingers curled.  "To even suggest that I'd willingly claim such a shameful burden–for ANY reason!!"
"All right, I get it." Elmiryn slowly sat down, hands still held up. "I get it. I didn't mean to offend you."
The girl kept moving, her shoulders hunched around her ears.  She didn't take her eyes off Elmiryn.  "No.  Elmiryn, I don't think you get it at all."  She growled, and ran her hands through her wild hair.  "I don't feel...like...this skin is right..."  She hugged herself, pressing her chin to her chest so that her head seemed to retreat into her body.  "Not right...at all."
Elmiryn's head tilted to the side.  Her eyes were bright cerulean pieces of glass that saw and filtered by short means of conception.  They took in the sight of Nyx, a picture of frustration and anger.  Those were easy enough things to relate to.  But, in the literal sense, the woman wasn't sure if the youth's ears were disappearing into her hair or if the strands had simply shifted to obscure them from view.  The way Nyx kept moving, details were hard to grasp.  Was her nose migrating higher up her face and turning rounder at the tip?  And were her full expressive lips returning?
The warrior rubbed her temple, trying to remember the previous night.  Moments came to her, slippery shapes and washed colors emerging from the back of her mind.  She could hardly set them straight in her head.  ...But the voices rang clear.
"But...the humor.  I found it."
From what she could recall, the warrior attempted to draw some form of a conclusion.  Elmiryn at first considered an escalation in aggression–the shattered plate and the shouting last night her main reasons.  But as she shifted in her seat and felt the small stab of pain in her muscle from where Nyx had bit her shoulder, her mind turned, and she found herself traveling up another path of reasoning.  She glanced at her friend briefly.  The girl's fevered movement was familiar.
Elmiryn snickered as she fell onto an idea.
Nyx looked at her sharply at this sound.  "What?" she snapped.  She ceased her going back and forth in favor of rocking side to side.
This made the woman giggle again, and she wiped at her mouth as if to try and remove her amusement.  She toyed with a stray spoon on the table.  "I remember the word from last night."
"What word?"
"THE word.  You can't remember?" The warrior sat back and breathed harsh onto the spoon.  She proceeded to clean it with her shirt.
The Ailuran growled again, and this time the sound came from deeper within her throat.  "Well tell me, and maybe it'll jog my memory!"
Elmiryn grinned as a chortle came bubbling up.  From across the inn, Sedwick and Baldwin watched.  Sedwick's jaw was set, and he gripped his spear with both hands before him.  Baldwin fidgeted nervously, closer to the door.  He glanced back at it occasionally.  The warrior felt their eyes and she thought it amusing they were so frightened.  Her grin turned to a full blown smile.
"Oh I don't know, I don't want to give it away if you can't remember," she said to Nyx.
Nyx leaned forward onto the table as a long, loud exhale hissed through her bared teeth.  "Why are you playing games now!"
"A-nack-me-on-dic."
"...What?"
"That's what you said to me. Do you know what it means?"
"I..." Nyx blinked. Once. Twice. "...I think I–"
"You either do or you don't. Go on. Tell me."  Elmiryn looked at the spoon with feigned interest, her tongue between her teeth.  She winked playfully at her own reflection.
The girl straightened with a huff. "What a silly word! Did you make that up?"
"Well of course not. I'm not of the habit of making things up."
"...You're lying. That's not a word."
"Fine. What about pestiferousness? Chimerical?"
"Uh..."
"Cantankerous? Eruditeness? Paralytic?"
"I...I don't KNOW!"
"You think I forget the things you tell me just because I find it hard to remember what things look like?  These were all words YOU readily gave me yesterday. Are you still so drunk that you can't even make use of your own vocabulary? Are the words even YOURS–?
Nyx slammed forward.  "They are ALL mine!!" she screamed.
Elmiryn's smile turned more curved, and she quickly reached, grabbing Nyx hard at the nape before she could pull away again. The girl relaxed, and her body clumsily fell over the table as her body reacted to the strong contact. The warrior traced her fingers over her friend's facial features as before and gave a small, "Huh."
"What?" Nyx asked in a breathy whisper, her eyes wide.
The older woman smirked and held up the clean spoon.  The Ailuran gazed into it, her mouth falling open a little.
"You're completely human again, Nyx."
The warrior released the girl, and Nyx slowly slid off the table, taking the spoon and gazing into it with what appeared to be disbelief.  She touched her nose, which was again round, and felt her smooth ears.  Her lips pursed and she looked sharply at Elmiryn.  "So do you understand what's happening, then?" she asked.
"Not a fucking clue," Elmiryn said cheerfully.

HER________________________
"What are we going to do?"
"About what?"
"About HER."
"...And what would you propose to do? Sit and have a talk about how she's NOT a two-legged creature and should quit behaving as such?" Elmiryn looked my way. "Nyx, get on all fours. Sedwick doesn't appreciate your silly human antics."
I scooted to the edge of my seat, ready to follow her orders when she reached over quick to pat my hand.  She had bit down on her lip so hard the skin turned white. "I was being sarcastic, kitten."
I frowned at her bemusedly and sat back. I was NOT a kitten. I had been alive for over two-hundred and forty-seven moons. I would have had a mate by now if it hadn't been for...
But then it occurred to me that Elmiryn was perhaps not being serious again.
I gazed, glassy-eyed, across the round table where Sedwick and Baldwin had joined us, mind mulling over the idea of saying things one did not mean. I got the concept–had even found myself doing it without thinking, as if some aftertaste of my other persona still clung to the newfound sapien faculties that had been dropped into my paws...er, hands (wait, i'm supposed to say 'lap' right?)
Belabored thoughts, lined with mead, tittered here and there.  Meanwhile, the discussion between Sedwick and Elmiryn grew more heated.
I felt spent.  My outburst had rippled through me–and I found it so confusing.  There had been an odd pull at the back of my head, and my thoughts had turned fuzzy and dim.  Then all at once, things were clear for me again.  (clear in what sense?  i feel lanky and weak, with ears that don't hear, and a nose that can hardly smell.)  Now I sat, wishing I could go to sleep, wondering why I didn't get a better chair, and cursing the stench of this place and these people.
Across from me, Baldwin stared, like he were waiting for me to lunge across the table and chomp off his head.  I peered at him with heavy lids, and couldn't help but giggle at the idea. (he probably wouldn't even taste good)
This seemed to set the boy on edge, and I could see his hand twitch as if he wanted to reach for his sword again, but a look from Elmiryn kept him still.
Sedwick sucked loudly at his teeth. "Elmiryn, you are taking one of our young ones into the company of an unstable therian. I can't just ignore that!"
Funny. From where I was sitting, it seemed he was ignoring me pretty well.
"You're the one who gave him the okay!"
"But the girl has no grasp of herself! One second she's raging on her feet, hissing and roaring like a beast–the next, she's as daffy as an estranged aunt from over seas, gazing with avid interest at the floorboards!"
I was looking for my mead jug, you pontificating poop...
"Where are his parents? Talk to them if you are so uncomfortable about it all."
"They're dead, Elmiryn."  Baldwin interjected.
The warrior blinked at him. "Oh. Sorry." She gave a shrug and looked back at Sedwick. "Look, if it bothers YOU so much, then just come with us."
Oh sure. The more the merrier.
"And who will protect the people here?"
"You forget that if this doesn't get fixed soon, there won't BE people here to protect." Elmiryn barked.  "You'll be the guardian of a graveyard. Do you understand, Sedwick? A fucking graveyard."  She stood to her feet, as did the blacksmith and the boy.  I looked at them all sullenly.
This was stupid.
"Look outside. The city is EMPTY. These people here are at their wits end. You've no water and your food is dwindling. Merchants refuse to come here. Anyone who would've helped would've done so by now. You. Are. Alone. If it doesn't get done now, this never gets done."
"But why does SHE have to go?" Sedwick pressed stubbornly.
...I was kinda wondering that myself.
"Because. I won't help you unless she's there. Is that enough for you?"
"You'd let these people suffer just because–"
"I'll let your people suffer if they can't abide the way I work. I'm doing this at no cost to you, I really don't see how you're in the position to demand anything of me."
Well, see if he got on his KNEES–
[Stop.  Gods, please, you are embarrassing me.]
"They can't hear anything, you stuck up witch," I snapped back.
Everyone stopped and stared at me.  Heat crawled up my skin, and I ducked low, peering over the edge of the table.  I wasn't sure why, but I felt like an idiot.
[Great.  Now they think I'm crazy...]
"Uh..." Elmiryn wiped at her mouth and shifted her eyes as if not certain she wanted to say what was coming next.  Then she seemed to think better of it and waved her bandaged hand through the air.  "No.  Never mind."  The woman rapped the table with her knuckles and made as if to leave.  "Come on, Nyx.  If you've got everything, we should get going."
Sedwick stared at her.  "After that, you're just going to take her with you?"
I could almost feel her eyes sweep past me and onto the man's face.  He made an odd noise from the back of his throat, but didn't move.
"The discussion is over, Sedwick."
I made to get off my chair quickly, not wanting that tone of voice directed toward me, but I forgot myself and ended up falling backwards off my stool.  Elmiryn barely broke stride as she picked me up by the front of my gambeson and continued walking.  Like a doll, my feet dragged, but I got my footing.  My companion then let go of my top and instead kept me steady by gripping my shoulder as we marched out the inn's main doors.  Baldwin followed us shortly, the sound of his armor a terrible racket in my ear.
Outside, the peasants stared at us.  As we passed, the adults pulled their children close and I felt a mingling of pity and shame toward them.
The dumb fools...didn't they know they had more to fear from Elmiryn than I?
Though my nose wasn't as I was used to, it could still pick up some scents.  Drawn close to my companion, I could smell the wilderness on her.  With only my eyes, I peered up at her through my bangs and leaned into her touch.  This woman was strong.
She was strong, and she was my new guardian.
(funny how meeting her has increased my potential in getting killed then.)

____________________________

I had no use for aesthetic pleasantries, or poetic lengths of expression.  Complex communication?  Tempered thinking and voices of self-restraint?  It was all just silly fluff.  What words could possibly convey the mind-biting horror that tore my nerves asunder?  What had been experienced before, the unnaturalness and the illness and the wind-rushed scent of carrion, paled in comparison to what could be found out in those dead, ugly fields.  The brittle grass turned to ash at our feet and the sound of a terrible monster roared in the distance, the sound of its voice a blade that cut across the gray cold canvas of Gamath's lands.
We were almost to the river.
And yet I found a comfort in my words, (her words) that eloquent locution... for to let loose the wail that built up in my throat would leave me open–I was certain–to whatever evil that infested this place. To save myself from that fate, I bit down hard on my tongue, and buried my face into Elmiryn's side.
The warrior stood rigid, her strong body like a rock that defied the atmosphere that pressed against us. Glancing at her, I could see the veins in her neck, the tenseness of her jaw, the glassiness of her eyes. "We're close," she said tersely, her voice deep and rough. I missed the lyrical playfulness.
Behind us, there was the wet sound of slop hitting the ground. Coughing. Though the wind was blowing against us, a brief circulation of the air brought the acrid smell of vomit to my nose. I placed a hand over my mouth in an attempt to stop the bile from coming up my own throat.
Baldwin appeared at our side a second later, his young face now ashen and drawn. He had pulled out his sword. "Someone's coming behind us," he said weakly.
"Sedwick." Elmiryn said, without turning around. "I figured he would join us."
"Should we wait for him?"
"He'll catch up." Then she started walking again, her grip on me pushing me forward with her. I quickly tried to keep step with her long legs.
Ahead, white, grotesque-looking things and dark lumps riddled the grass.  As we neared, I saw that they were skeletons and decomposing animal corpses.  The bones were of varying sizes and shapes–belonging to such creatures as gophers, birds, cows, and deer–and were bleached white.  The corpses were animals that had died in the recent days.  These were fewer.  But as I looked at the body of a dead dog, I realized something unsettling.
"No flies...no maggots," I whispered.  Elmiryn's grip tightened.
We came up on a hillock.  At the top of it, we saw the Medwin river bend toward us, then away again.  It was wide and dark, and though the land appeared low and largely flat, the water turned white and swirled in places from little dips and the rocks that peeked beyond the surface.
Together, we ventured near the river's edge, our gaits slow.  Once close, Elmiryn let go of me, and without thinking I slumped to the ground, ash and dust coming up in a startled cloud.  She went to the water and knelt down, where she dipped her hand into the current.
"What are you doing?!" Baldwin squeaked.
"Relax, Baldwin," the woman said.  "Nothing happens to a person who touches the water.  It matters only if you drink it."  Elmiryn withdrew her hand and sniffed her wet fingers.  Her eyes slipped closed and she clenched her fist.
"Would you drink it if you believed it were harmless, despite evidence to the contrary?" a new voice called.
We all looked to see Sedwick coming over the hillock, his helmet back on and his spear firmly gripped in both hands.  His pace was quick, and though I couldn't see much of his face, it seemed the most the atmosphere did to him was set him on edge.
Elmiryn stood and I could see her lips twitching.  "Sedwick.  Good to see you decided to join us."
He stopped near Baldwin and patted the boy on the back.  "I came to make sure this was finished once and for all." He nodded at the boy.  "And to make sure he came home all right."
The warrior woman gave a shrug.  "Fair enough." She gestured toward the river.  "You said to come to this place, where the hillock overlooks a horseshoe bend in the river.  Well, we're here.  Now what?"
"This used to be where the guardian would hold audience to any who would wish to speak to it.  It's abandoned this place for some reason.  But the adventurer before you mentioned a cave entrance not far from here.  He seemed to believe the guardian had retreated there."
"It's on the other side, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so."
Elmiryn sighed.  She looked down at me, and I slunk low to the ground, certain I would not like what she would say next.  "Nyx, you aren't afraid of water, are you?"
Soon, we were all standing on the edge of the river.  Sedwick stood to my right, and he kept staring out of the corner of his eye at me.  Baldwin stood on his other side, gripping his arm.  He looked like he was about to throw up again.  Elmiryn was on my left.  Her bow and quiver were discarded on the ground behind her.  "Rain, it can handle.  Being dunked into a river–not so much," she said with a wry grin.
The warrior shook out her limbs and said, "Try and keep calm, Nyx.  This is just like any other swim." She then looked at Sedwick.  "I trust both of you have swam across a river before, and the current isn't particularly treacherous here.  The threat mostly lies in accidentally taking a swig of water.  Keep your mouths shut, no matter what."  She took a deep breath.  "Ready?"
"Let's go," Sedwick said solemnly.
"Yeah.  All right...one, two–"
In unison, we all jumped into the water.  There was a brief moment where I didn't move and let the water carry me.  Panic had set into my limbs at the feel of the water streaming past my lips.  It...was terrible.  In all my days, I could not recall a time when water had ever felt so abhorrent to me.  But I saw Elmiryn's kicking legs and I set forth, pushing against a rock in the river bed to propel me forward.  Even as I broke the surface, I didn't trust opening my mouth and taking a breath of air.  By the time I reached the other side, my lungs and head felt ready to burst.
Sedwick and Baldwin made it a second after I did, crawling onto the land and panting.  I wiped at my mouth, mindful not to let any of the water fall into my mouth, and looked up.  Elmiryn was separate from us, all ready on her feet, with her head bowed and her hand to her lips.  Dread set into my stomach.  I crawled on all fours toward her and swiped softly at her leg as an odd, inquisitive noise came from the back of my throat.
She looked down at me, blinking.  The edges of her mouth twitched again before she smiled a long curling smile.  "It's okay, Nyx."  The warrior reached down and pulled me to my feet.  "It's all right."
Sedwick and Baldwin came to us.  The woman looked at the blacksmith.  "Will you lead the way?  You know the land better than I."
The man nodded.  "As I said, it isn't far from here."  He brushed past her, and Baldwin followed close, sparing a wide-eyed glance in my direction as he passed.
Elmiryn chuckled, though I didn't know what was so funny, and we followed.
Just as Baldwin said, it wasn't very far.  After following the river northward, we came to a point where a wide, uneven trail of dry mud led into the mouth of a cave set into a little hillock some yards from the river.  We stood at the jagged mouth of it, where pitch darkness barred our sight from seeing too far into its depths.
"It-It looks like it goes s-straight down..." Baldwin breathed shakily.  He took a step backward.  "I wo-won't do it.  I wo-won't go in there!"
I hissed at the boy.  After all his blustering, now his courage fled him?  Damn him.
"Sedwick," Elmiryn said, not taking her eyes off the mouth of the cave.  Her eyes were wide and glassy again, and her voice seemed brittle and faint.  "Take Baldwin and leave.  Now."
"What's wrong?" But even as the blacksmith asked this, he and Baldwin were all ready backing away.
My ears tickled as I realized that the river had gone quiet behind us, like it were holding its breath.  I looked back and my face fell.  The two men behind us saw this and looked back as well.
The river had swelled into an impossible wave, one that grew and loomed over us until we were lost in its shadow.  I felt my stomach drop, and I would've fallen to a heap on the ground if Elmiryn hadn't grabbed me by the armpit.  Baldwin screamed, and Sedwick muttered some sort of prayer.  But all was lost when the water came crashing down on us, its frigid arms carrying us into a world of ink and confusion.

____________________________

(...i feel cold...)
[Bones reconnect, bruises fade...]
...And I was aware again.
I felt like the nerves of my body had been frayed and grated, the muscles sliced apart.  My limbs were in bizarre positions, like I were a doll that had been dropped unceremoniously on some child's floor.  I registered blood in my mouth as I lay face down on a damp and uncomfortable surface.  My fingers flexed, scraping.  It was rock, and it dug into my ribs.  I shifted and groaned as my eyes blinked open.   Wherever I was, there was a dim light coming from all over, causing a pale glow.  I couldn't say for certain what the source of the light was–there seemed to be patches on the rocky walls that produced it.  Sight was still poor here, and much of everything seemed like vague shapes, even after my eyes focused.
Suddenly, something came toward me and I clumsily pulled my right arm out from underneath me and pushed myself onto all fours. An unintelligible sound slipped from my lips as I pressed against what appeared to be a stalagmite.
"I thought you were dead!" A familiar voice exclaimed.
I squinted.  It was Baldwin.
He was bleeding somewhere on his head as blood dripped down his neck.  He had black circles around his eyes, and his skin seemed to visibly sag, making his young face seem old.  He limped closer and knelt down, his silly armor making noise the whole time.  I tensed and looked around to see if anything would come investigate the racket.
"I don't know where the others are," the boy started.  His lip trembled and he rocked back and forth.  "Sedwick tried to grab me but the water...it pushed us apart.  I woke up here after my head hit the rocks." He bit his thumb and then looked at me.  "We should find the others, don't you think?  We have to get out of here!"
I stared right back, my lip curling.  Moron...why did he want to come at all if he were going to fall to pieces?
I carefully got to my feet with a grunt, and looked around.  We were in some sort of chamber.  The ceiling was high, stalactites baring down on us like fangs.  From where Baldwin had come toward me, I could make out what appeared to be a passage that lead into another chamber, one lit differently than this one.  In the center of the chamber we were in, there was a puddle of water.  I ventured near it.
Why was this the only trace of water left here?  Didn't a huge wave just wash us down into the this hellish place?  I peered into it, holding my wet hair back with both hands, and I realized–
I couldn't see my own reflection.
Behind me, Baldwin stumbled forward, the sound of his mismatched armor like a death knell.  "Hey!  You dumb animal, I'm talkin' to you!!"
I turn and hissed loudly at him, my hands clenched like claws, but it was too late.  I saw a small rock fly past my face, saw Baldwin's arm follow through with his throw, his face contorted in anger and frustration.
The rock hit the water with a loud splash.
Horrified, I looked back at it.  The ripples were so strong they caused the small puddle to flood onto the area surrounding it.  Slowly, I walk backwards, my heart thumping.
"What are you doing?  What's the matter?" Baldwin asks, a little panicked at my sudden behavior.
"You're an idiot," I say shortly.
The water bubbled and frothed, rising higher and higher until it became clear it was taking the form of some creature.  Its rippling body was tall and rotund, little bubbles swirling around inside of it.  It seemed like a man with no arms, and its head, faceless, sprouted barbed tentacles.  The tentacles were long and lashed about angrily.  The thing's torso twisted and writhed, and from it a gurgled wailing echoed off the rocky walls.
At the terrible sound, Baldwin and I were snapped out of our trance and took off running toward the only exit from the chamber.  Naturally, the boy made it to the passage before me, but as the red glow of the other room painted his face, something hit him in the back with a 'shlop', and he fell to the ground with a nasty crash.
As I passed Baldwin, I reached down and grabbed him by the back of his armor, dragging him from the chamber entrance.  I didn't pause to look back this time, but I heard what sounded like water splashing against the rocks.  I stopped some yards away to inspect him.  I saw no wound in his back.  Confused, I rolled him over.  He was conscious and breathing, and he looked at me, his eyes wide and teary and his nose running with snot.  I shook him, growling.
...But then his back arched and his mouth parted open.  He gurgled once before his eyes bulged.  The moisture I had previously thought to be tears turned out to be just water, and it streamed down the sides of his face profusely.  I let him go, as if bitten, and when his head rolled to the side, more water gushed out of his mouth and nose, and I saw that in his ears it also pooled and trickled down onto his bloated face.  Blood appeared like a dark plume in the water.
The gurgled wail echoed around me again and I felt it rattle in my skull.  Trembling, I looked around for a way out.  There were other passages behind me on a higher level, and my only obstacles were a collection of thick stalagmites.  Without pause, I began to climb.
I had to find Elmiryn and get out of there.

HER________________________
(where is she, where is she)
[Her hands sting and bleed as she runs on all fours, the rocks slicing her with vindictiveness. With her growing distress, it becomes harder to think with words--but this is natural to her. It was a borrowed process to begin with. Now in this dire situation, she can only conceive thoughts she feels relevant--short clipped things that sear boldly in a canvas of white.]
(i have to find her, i have to find the warrior.)
[The size of these strange caverns alarms her. Her nose, weak in this form, cannot grasp a proper scent. All she knows is that she is at the source of wrongness, and she wishes to leave.]
(where is my protector)
[As she flees, she registers the nearing wail of the water creature, and it makes her fevered and clumsy. The sound stretches and warbles, echoing off the rocky walls and causes dust to drift from the ceiling. She cannot name the thing for certain. But as a being born of spirit as much as flesh, she knows that no attack against the monster can hope to stop it. Without this last defense, she feels helpless.]
(trapped.)
[She hears splashing and whips around to see that other creatures have emerged from the shadows.  They twist and they gurgle, and she thinks she can hear them cursing her in some ancient tongue. They bare down on her from all around, bizarre forms trickling past stalagmites and large rock formations. She hisses, back bunching, hands tensed in an attempt to extract non-existent claws. They'll make her drown from the inside. Make her face bloat--make her eyes, mouth, and ears flood. The monsters' tentacles fire deadly barbs with a harsh whip. Baldwin's face flashes in her brain before she roars beneath the rain of water.]

ELMIRYN________________________
She told herself to scream, because she figured it would make her feel better. But where would that sound go, in this terrible place? What would that sound mean here? It hardly meant a thing to her, after all... She was dead. A ghost...right? So what did it mean when the sound of anguish curled out of her mouth like a desperate hand?
...Aw, who cares...
Elmiryn pushed herself upright, and her limbs shook with the effort. She came to an angle her spine disagreed with and fell back again, pain incising itself into her nerves. That dubious noise came to her lips once more, but rather than take flight, it clung there, shuddering, before it was lost in a sudden bark of laughter.
She had always wondered if Halward, moral god, would see fit to cast her in some dank hell. Well...she got her answer. How could she have survived such a crash of water? It cast her into dark–shattered her completely beyond recognition, like glass, like a mirror...
An emerald glow diffused from stark, jagged grins, and stony visages–quiet, quiet sentinels that leered at her as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. Or perhaps she was inside the mouth of a larger monster? Perhaps this creature was an amalgam of wrath and pride, crafted by Halward himself, to contain her for eternity?
Her scabbard dug into her leg, and her clothes clung to her skin. Though it hurt, Elmiryn lifted her head to look down at herself. Her skin was damp–naturally–she had just been killed by a wave after all. Only...
...It felt thick.
Then her heart gave a twist.
"No..." She whispered. She fought against the base sensations of her body as a new pain, a new horror, took precedence. Nausea washed over her and she felt as if her head would split in two. "No, no, no!!"
She rolled over so that she were on her knees, and she felt the scales of the monster she was trapped in scrape and bite into her flesh. "Meznik!" The woman's voice broke as she almost fell over from the agony. "Meznik!" Elmiryn forced the name out of her mouth as she shoved to her feet. "Meznik, where are you! You bastard!" She trembled. She wiped at her face roughly.
She had to get the slime off...the illness...the sickness...it was on her skin...
Elmiryn looked at her hands. Water, clear water, dripped from her fingertips. She would have breathed a sigh of relief had she not noticed the dark stain that blossomed on the palm of her right glove. With a scowl, the redhead took off the bracer and peeled the glove away to reveal the bandaged hand beneath. The cloth was also dark.
Do ghosts bleed?
"I don't feel it..." Elmiryn whispered as she slowly unwrapped her hand. The stitched skin–previously a source of discomfort she only just managed to ignore–seemed as far removed as any unrelated image. The skin had become puffy and purplish, the stitches stretched apart over an angry valley of crimson that came flowing out in eager currents now that there wasn't the barrier of a bandage. She figured she should have felt it. Everything ELSE hurt...so why then...why then did this...not register?
Elmiryn looked around, her eyes glassy. "Meznik," she called in a calmer voice. "Where are you? I know you're here, I can feel you."
Ahead of her, there was a space of impenetrable black. Fangs and uneven gums marked the passage to that place. By some twist in her stomach, the woman was certain her tormentor was in that darkness. She took a tentative step in that direction, breath shallow as she fought to remain on her feet.
"You gave me your name. But you still hide your face," She whispered. Steam seemed to exhale from the fangs. This smoke curled with a current of air she was unaware of. "...Well...you won," Elmiryn said. She dropped her glove and bracer and spread her arms apart.
"Have at me."
...Stillness.
Her jaw tightened.
"Go on," She growled.
Still nothing.
Fucker. She was here, she was dead. Whatever scheme he had, it had succeeded. There was nothing left to do now but to take what he had always wanted. Yet here he was, continuing to play games. Toying with her. The warrior was certain she could hear the demon–reveling in this monster's insides–festering like a wound in his black sanctuary.
Elmiryn screamed, and she could feel it pierce into the hellish atmosphere. "HAVE AT ME, I SAID!"
The smoke, which seemed to screen the passage, swirled at her voice, and the woman blinked as her mind briefly registered what appeared to be a rictus grin.
Then she heard the echo of a roar that tore her assertions down with staggering efficiency.
Elmiryn's eyes widened and her head turned slightly to the side. "...Nyx?"
But her attention was reclaimed when the smoky grin dispersed in a startled hiss, and a crimson tentacle of muscle and veins speared toward her...

HER________________________
[She's certain of her end. Inside her, The Other is screaming. They drift further apart, anger and blame ripping a chasm as far as a mile between them. Then suddenly, She is knocked to the side, the splats of a dozen missed barbs hitting the hard wall. She crashes onto her shoulder, neck and jaw taking a sharp jolt of pain before she finds herself dragged to her feet by broad hands.]
"Run! Run girl, run!"
Leather armor, studded. His helmet was gone, probably lost from the wave. A name came to me, and within a moment I found my words again.
It was Sedwick.
He carried me off, more strength in his form then could be guessed by looking at him. Still, as we avoided more of those insidious barbs, I could feel his grip slipping, and I worked harder to keep pace. Whatever the things were, they were slow, and as luck would have it, the passage we took didn't lead into a dead end. As we ran, the glow from the rocks shifted–from cobalt, to yellow; from red, to violet–like the cavern itself was a living creature, and our fleeing set it into a frenzy.
It was disorienting. Sedwick kept stumbling, and even I found it hard to keep my pace steady. We came to a large chamber, and here there were no pools. Blue light painted our skin. The blacksmith slowed to a stop, panting.
"Wait...just wait."
I looked at him and snorted. My eyes were wide, and I was certain that my skin was plagued as much by my own fear-induced sweat as the poisonous waters of the Medwin. I gazed back through the oval shaped passage we had just come from. From it echoed the wails of those water monsters.
"Where's Baldwin?" Sedwick suddenly asked, looking up at me from his bent position.
I looked at him, startled. After a brief pause, I shrugged.
"You don't know?"
"...No."
He sighed and shook his head. "He shouldn't have come."
I looked away. My throat felt tight, but I tried to ignore it. "Let's go."
The man took another second to take a breath, then straightened, shouldering his spear. "Yes. Let's find the others."
"The others! The others! They have to find the others!"
Laughter echoed through the chamber. Both Sedwick and I jumped–he settling into some fighting stance, while I simply ducked and tensed my hands. (i miss my claws)
A shadow danced over the walls before a man came into view, from behind a tall set of stalagmites. He had a strong chin and a full, flat face, with short black hair and elfish ears. His eyes were slanted, dark and shiny. His generous lips were parted to reveal large horse teeth. He came toward us, gait loping, like a person running across a room where a party was being held.
Sedwick didn't lower his spear as he stared at the man. "...It's you..." was all he said.
"Hey! Aren't you that fine gentleman I spoke to a while ago?" The man wagged his finger. "You're late! Tsk, tsk! I've been waiting in this place for what seemed like ages for someone to come get me."
The tip of Sedwick's spear dipped a little. "We...thought you were dead."
I moved a little behind the blacksmith, my mouth parted as I panted anxiously. I didn't like the look of this newcomer's eyes.
Sedwick looked at me. "It's all right, Nyx. This is the man we hired before Elmiryn." He looked back at the adventurer. "Aidan, I think the name was, right?"
With alarming quickness, the man grabbed the blacksmith by the neck with both hands and gave him a rough shake. Spit came dribbling out of his insane grin. "You remember my name!" Sedwick grunted, his eyes wide as he tried to push the man away with one arm. Aidan didn't let go, didn't even seem phased as he giggled. "I've had nightmares! Nightmares, man! Afraid that I'd be forgotten in this hell hole! That not a soul would remember me! Not a one!" His smile vanished and at once all the muscles in his face tightened. His hands wrapped themselves around Sedwick's throat. "But you remembered me...you knew I was here. You just didn't come."
Veins, like creeping plant vines, appeared beneath the collar of his cotton shirt. They were thick and purplish, and spread onto his face just as water would across the ground.
He slid one foot back, and with incredible force, drove his knee into the blacksmith's gut. The man was lifted into the air briefly before he crashed onto the ground with an "Ooph!" He didn't move again.
Aidan then turned to me. "And you are supposed to be my competition? You think you can stop the guardian? You bitch. I've fought trolls, werewolves, and witches! What can you possibly do but insult my memory with your pathetic efforts!?" He advanced on me, shoulders squared and fists clenched, his grotesque face contorted in rage, all pretense of jovial humor gone. I found myself falling backwards, scrambling.
Spit flew from his mouth as he roared, "I'll kill you!"
His foot came up and he moved to stomp my chest. I rolled out of the way, moving back to all fours. I saw his other foot come around toward my face but didn't have time to react before...
[It connected. Her head snaps to the side, pain smashing into her like a hammer that knocks away her prose. She falls to her side, and he assails her again--stomping fast and hard with the heel of his foot until she's coughing up blood and feels her sternum crack. The agony stabs at her, and her vision fogs. She is forced upright by the front of her clothes. Her head is slammed into the rock. Again and again. She's certain he could kill her outright, with one blow, but he's purposefully holding back. Making her hurt. Aidan is giggling as he straddles her.]
(...i'll kill you...)
[The feeling, enters her heart. Aidan stops slamming her head, and instead back hands her--perhaps because of the strangled noise that had slipped her stained lips.]
(...i'll rip you apart...)
[The Other, her ghost, her other self, speaks, and she just barely manages to hear her through the ringing and pounding in her head.]
[Run away! Get away!]
[Her back arches, and vainly she claws at Aidan's face. She feels her dull nails scrape into the uneven flesh. Disgust rises in her and she grabs one of his arms instead.]
(i can't. he won't let me.)
[Get out!  Run!  What are you doing!?]
(he won't let me.  he won't let me!)
[She gnashes her teeth as she feels Aidan's hands enclose around her throat. He leers at her, his eyes like dark stones that wink at her from beneath the short crop of his hair. Then she roars, vocal chords--though short of the animal ferocity she knows--still carries out in a note that rattles her audience.]
[She grips Aidan's wrist and places her other hand at his elbow. There is a brief pause from him as he feels her shift beneath her, as he sees the wild determination set into her scarlet face. She bares her teeth for a moment before she digs her shoulders back into the rocky surface and pushes with all her might at Aidan's elbow, forcing it in the opposite direction of its bend.]
[His eyes widen at the sudden brute strength that fights him, and he resists with a grunt. At best he manages to keep his arm straight, but She dredges up all she has in her and presses in. His arm shakes and shudders before it gives.]
[There is the snap of bone and the wet tear of flesh ripping. Aidan's scream sends her into a frenzy, the blood that sprays her face cold and stale. This man is not alive. And soon, his charade will end, she will make certain of it.]
[He collapses on her, his arm--with its bone poking through the skin--no longer able to support him. The death that encloses her throat is gone, and she gasps, shuddering, before weakly shoving the lunatic off of her. He lies there, speaking to himself in dazed gibberish, the veins in his face pulsing red and angry.  The light of the cavern has shifted to a pale yellow.]
[She sits up with much effort, body battered, her chest hurting. Her vision blurs and a part of her wishes to remain still and never move again. ...But the desire to live and see her threat gone wins out. She crawls on all fours toward Sedwick, who only just begins to stir. She does not wait to see what he does or if he is okay. The threat is still there. Still liable to do them harm. She takes his spear, forgotten on the ground, and with it pushes herself to her feet. She growls inaudibly, forcing her sapien chords to work in ways it was never meant to.]
[As she stands over Aidan, she sees that the veins have spread to his wound and now wrap around it--knitting the flesh back together. But he is still prone on the ground, lost in his pain. She raises the spear high before she stabs downward, into Aidan's chest. His head raises from the ground, and he gurgles. She does this again, and again...and again.  The muted noise of his decimation is sweet to her, but not quite enough to satisfy her anger, to chase away her disgust...to quell her fear.]
"Stop it."
[Sedwick. Or The Other. She isn't sure. The voice seems far away and unimportant. The man hurt her. The man had sought to make her feel as much pain as possible before he killed her. The bastard.  The man had to hurt. He had to suffer.]
"STOP IT!"
[She screams defiantly against the dubious protest, before burying the spear in Aidan's throat. She leans into the weapon, twists it, wiggles it--feels the tip of the spear finally scrape the rock on the other side. She wills for the head to come off completely--]
[But then she is knocked from behind and her body falls to the ground.]
"Enough!"
[There, her strength leaves her.  She feels her sternum knit back together beneath her chest. Her body is healing, but the pain does not go away. Her bones ache, her skin burns.]
[The Other is forcing her way forward.]
[Animal…beast…I should not have let you…]
(...you aren't...no...you can't...)
[I can't believe you're a part of me!]
[She screeches as she feels the bones and muscles of her chest shift beneath her fevered skin. Sedwick reclaims his spear and looks down at her in horror.]
(...i...am the only one...the only one! the blood that was shed was mine!)
[And the soul that suffers is MINE!]
[Her boots are kicked off to reveal padded, furry paws. Her fingers retract, claws protrude; her nose turns small and wet, fangs gnash in her mouth, and porcelain skin is lost to black fur.  She is confused.  She is...]
...Scared.
[Her back legs are short and bend the other way.  She feels a tail sweeping the seat of her pants.  She snorts and swipes at her nose with her paw because she feels the odor of this place assail her on a level that she had only conceived of in dreams.  The closest she knew of this life--this unique perception--was when she turned into the cat woman, as she had done at Toah.  Then, she could stand on hind legs and still had opposable thumbs.  But this...this...]
...Sweet Aelurus, I had come back...but in the wrong body.

Friend
ELMIRYN________________________
In a flash of heat and scarlet, something smashed out of the canvas of black before her.  It tore through like a parasite engorged on her misconceptions.  She jerked her head to the side and backpedaled away.  Her feet tripped on the uneven ground as a monster came sliming forth into the emerald light.  Veins and angry dark flesh, riddled with cancerous tumors that pussed and bubbled, crept along the cavern floor.  When the thing stopped a few yards from her, Elmiryn found herself staring at a thing that drew itself up nearly ten feet tall...and had no head or mouth to speak of.
Her head tilted to the side and she squinted at it, her previous frustration replaced simply by confusion.  The thing reminded her of a slug, but she didn't believe it were a slug anymore than she believed it were Meznik.  She wasn't sure...but was it posing itself in some semblance of haughty pride?  Or was it simply trying to seem as intimidating as possible by pulling itself up to its full height?
From where she stood it reeked...it smelled like...
...Raw uncooked meat, cut from a diseased animal, left to rot in the hot summer sun.  Her mouth watered.
Elmiryn decided she was hungry.
So it was startling to hear the giggle of a stream in her ear.  There were little whispers within the noise that begged and asked for clarification on mysteries she knew nothing about.  She began to shake her head with a frown as she looked around her.  Where was that noise coming from–?
The melancholy sweep of water on land.  The sound came much like the other, but this echoed and reverberated within her bones.  For a brief moment she thought she were drowning...only to realize that this was the pain and torment of the raw meat before her.
"My gods..." Elmiryn rose to her feet, a surprised grin spreading across her face. "You...you're not uncooked meat!  You're the river guardian!"  She went to clap a hand to her head when she realized the one she lifted up was the injured one.  Her cerulean eyes fell to it, and the grin vanished.  The blood flowed thicker.  It came down her forearm to drip at her elbow, where she saw her life splatter onto the ground like sloshed drink.
She looked slowly up again.  "I don't suppose you know what's going on?"  Furtively, the warrior allowed her eyes to leave the creature before her to search for her missing glove and bracer.  She spotted them a few feet away, the discarded bandages next to them.  Tentatively she took a step in that direction.
The moment her foot touched the ground, there was a sharp screech, and she jumped back with a wince. The guardian's body, grotesque and amorphous, rippled violently.  Limbs branched out from its upper body, like plants, and curved upwards. It seemed to suck in its trunk, letting its base slither and root themselves into the floor in thick tentacles. Elmiryn stared. "A tree?"
In her ear, she heard the splash of water and startled bubbles. The woman blinked again and touched a hand to her ear. She frowned and shook her head. "What? No. It isn't me. I'm not the one to ask about that."
A low hiss.
Elmiryn took a step back and held up her gloved hand, the other she cradled to her chest, in a vain attempt to keep more blood from flowing.  The guardian's body was turning darker, and steam now emitted from the tumors that ruptured on its putrid skin.
"Now hold on a minute...I have no fucking idea what you're talking about!" The woman shouted. She couldn't explain why, but she suddenly felt angry. "I didn't put that slime on your skin! I didn't do it!"
The branched limbs collected together. They formed two sets of arms and hands, and between them something like a head sprouted. The guardian leaned forward, and its head spread apart in an angry maw of veins and pulsing muscles. Its body coiled.
She didn't pause to stop and wonder if the thing would attack her or not.  Elmiryn only knew she wanted her glove and bracer back.
The chamber's light shifted to crimson.
When the roiling flesh leapt toward her, its body a single stream of movement that stretched a good sixteen feet, she dived to the right.    The warrior rolled to a stop, close to her things, and picked them up hurriedly with one hand.  Behind her, she could hear the river guardian slime along the cavern floor.  She stood to her feet as her mind raced.
"Rivers, rivers, rivers...wait...this thing's a river?  No, no!  It's a guardian! What are guardians?  Immortal!  But it answers to a higher being–so that means...shit, what does that mean!?"
She began to backpedal toward the dark space where she had seen the creature emerge, when she saw a large "B" shaped passage lit in an indigo glow just across the chamber.  Then Elmiryn realized she backed herself into a corner.  She cursed.
The river guardian surged toward her again with a roar that shook dust from the stalactites above.  The redhead jumped to the side as she frantically tried to wrap the bandage back onto her bleeding hand.  When she managed to wrap a few layers, the fabric was already drenched.  She next went to put on her glove.  Her head began to feel light, and her excited movements caused spots to dance before her eyes.
"I'm feeling dizzy...kinda funny...like...like..."
Her limbs felt immaterial.  They shook and disagreed with her as she struggled to avoid the guardian's advances.  It streamed, it snaked, it followed through in a clear line of force and wrath that–with each successive attempt–narrowed their separation.  The chamber they were in was mostly circular, the edges of it lined with thousands of little stalagmites on ascending rock beds.
"I'm running around in a ball of death!" Elmiryn thought with a snicker as she nearly face planted onto the ground.  On hands and knees, she glanced behind her.  Not once in this evasive dance was she able to find an opportunity to leave the chamber.
The guardian too, appeared tired.  It warbled, before it slithered slowly toward her.  It seemed to sense its impending victory.
She looked at it and grinned lazily as she snapped on her bracer over her gloved arm, and scooted so that the small of her back was pressed against the edge where the floor began to curve upwards.
"This is as good a hell as any to die in..." Elmiryn thought.  She blinked as the guardian drew itself up again, and spread its body so that it seemed like a large river with many tributaries.
In her head, she heard Nyx break down the word that had become all that mattered in the world.  "Death.  To die.  To cease to exist.  To lack life."
The last thought caused her pause.
...Life?  She had life.  She had it.  It was slipping away from her, yes, through this cursed hand of hers, but it was still there.  She was not dead yet.  She was not in hell.  She had not been defeated by Meznik yet...technically.
So what was she doing?
"Surrender.  To give up.  To quit.  To yield to a greater power."
Elmiryn sucked in breath, her eyes flashing.  "I'm doing what!?"
Just as the guardian crashed downward, ready to tear her apart, or swallow her, or...whatever it would do, the woman scuttled backwards and up, onto the rocks that lead her up and away from danger.  The little stalagmites poked like a bitch, but it was as she found herself several yards up, and in what appeared to be a spiny bed of dogtooth spar, that she noticed something.
"...The guardian isn't following."
It roared at her, and circled around the chamber floor once before it rushed toward her direction.  It crashed ineffectually against the base of the chambers edge like water against a cliff side.
Elmiryn's mind toiled over this curious observation.  "This thing's a river guardian.  It's immortal, but it still answers to a higher being.  That means...it means..." her eyes widened.  "It works under a spiritual ban!"  Gingerly, she drew her sword and tried to stand on her feet only to find herself much too wobbly to do so.  Instead, she sat crouched as she grinned down at the livid immortal.  "Since you oversee the rivers of the East, you must behave as a river yourself!  Fuck, how brilliant!"
Carefully, the warrior began to make her way toward the other end of the chamber, toward the indigo passage.  She was careful to remain high up, where the guardian could not reach her.  "Rivers move in one direction," she thought to herself, with tongue caught between her teeth.  "They can branch off, but unless they meet again in some body of water, they can only go so far.  Rivers never flow uphill...is that why it hasn't left the cavern?  Because the entrance to this place was a slope that lead downward?"
Elmiryn looked at the guardian, then shook her head.  "No.  It thinks I poisoned the river.  It wants to go back, but sounds less like a prisoner so much as someone just homesick...So there must be another way out."
She finally reached the other end.  All the while the guardian had followed her, bubbling and gurgling violently.  The warrior looked down at it as it drew itself up again in a wavering pillar.
"Okay, here's the deal," Elmiryn began, brandishing her sword.  "You need to pull it together.  Madness doesn't suit you."
A screech.
"Look.  I told you I didn't do it...in fact.  I think you're failing to grasp the exact reasons for your behavior.  You think you're protecting your river?"  Elmiryn tsked and wagged a finger.  "You've REALLY gotta learn the difference between fighting and protecting–"
Then, without warning, she jumped, her sword slashing as the guardian moved to meet her mid air.  The blade connected, splitting the being in two.  It felt as if she were cutting through water, resistance there but no real sense of permanent division.  The split allowed her space to slip by, and she turned her head slightly to see that the creature did not turn mid-air, but simply continued going, as she'd expected.
"Unless something forces it, it cannot make that sharp a turn so quickly," Elmiryn thought.
The woman landed harsh and fell to her knees with a grunt.  Her vision tunneled and she remained there panting before she forced her body forward with an unsteady lurch, through the indigo passage to what could only be freedom.  Behind her, she heard the river guardian roar.  It sounded like it had made a pass at her while she was on the ground.  If that were the case, it would have to circle around before being able to follow her.
She stumbled through a tunnel before she came to another large chamber.  Ahead of her were three passages.  The one on the far left was lit crimson, and echoed with suspicious wails.  The one in the center was emerald, just as the room before her had been before the color shifted.  The passageway next to it was a pale yellow.
Elmiryn blinked and scratched her head as she tried to think.  "These lights must mean something.  The room behind me turned crimson when the guardian attacked.  So, what...does it mean danger?  Okay, that works...but the room was emerald before that.  The one in the center is the same...only, the room behind me had only one way out.  Maybe it means a dead end?  The passage on the end...what the hell does that mean?"  Elmiryn looked behind her and cursed.
The guardian was surging toward her again.
"To hell with it...three's my lucky number anyways!"
The warrior charged toward the large passage.  She felt ready to give out.  Her limbs were weak, her head hurt, and her skin felt cold.
"To surrender, or die."  As she came into the new chamber, her feet tripped and she fell to the floor, panting.  Her brow seared with pain where her head slammed into the rock, her hip ached, and her sword–which had slipped from her grip–lay a few feet away.
She gave a sigh and closed her eyes.  "I'm still not sure I have the option of choosing..."

NYX____________________________
I was mortified.
My clothes had shifted with me, thanks to the enchantment cast on them, but this was wrong...this was...
Sedwick bore down on me, the sharp end of his spear pointed in my furry face.
"You..." he started in a querulous voice.  His scarred countenance was drawn as he blinked rapidly at me.  "...You're completely unstable...you killed that man, and now..."
I could smell the fear on him.  Through the pestilence of this place, I could practically taste it.  But that did nothing for my nerves.  I was up against a thin column.  I could see past his legs where Aidan's corpse lay, and thought to myself, "I don't want to be here."
Sedwick's eyes narrowed and he jabbed the spear at me threateningly.  "You were with Baldwin, weren't you?"
My muscles bunched and I panted anxiously.  Some form of expression must have passed my face as the blacksmith's lips grew thin and his brows pressed together in an angry scowl.
"You tell me where he is!  What happened to him!?" he shouted.
I growled as he jabbed the spear at me again.  I found it hard to think as...
[Her mind slips to base emotions.  Fear curdles.  She wishes to flee.  She wishes to run.  But this man...stops her.  She could escape if she--]
I stopped those thoughts before they can go any further. "No!  I am not like her!  I have to think properly!  I need to–!"
Sedwick howled and stabbed at my head.  I shifted to the side, the spear's blade tearing through my clothes and scraping down my right shoulder and foreleg.  I limped away with a low yowl.  I was no longer pinned against the column, but it hurt so much to move.  I looked behind me.  Another passage seemed to suddenly appear, and it was lit indigo.
"You killed him didn't you!" Sedwick shouted as he advanced on me.  He raised his spear again.  "Just like Aidan!  You killed him!"
I looked back at him and shook my furry head.  The action felt awkward because my neck was much thicker than the form I was used to.  I tried to form words with my mouth only to find a silly chittering sound escaped my lips.
Sedwick sneered.  "You're not human...you're not even an Ailuran...you're just a monster."  He pulled back his arm, ready to throw his spear.
I turned and loped with pathetic stride toward the indigo light.  Then, I heard a clatter and a scream, and I stopped.
I looked backward again to see, to my horror, that unbeknowest to either of us, veins had proceeded to spread from Aidan's body along the cavern floor.  They latched onto Sedwick's leg and crept up his pants, and I could hear the parasitic flesh merge with the blacksmith's skin.  He reached down, screaming in pain and terror, and I slowly backed away as he pulled back his pants to reveal the veins migrating upward.  Sedwick tugged and pulled in an attempt to break free only to fall to his side, where beneath his armor, the alien flesh blossomed forth to consume the rest of his body.
I fled–through the indigo passage and onward to a place that I hoped would be safer.
...Instead I found Elmiryn.

ELMIRYN________________________
She felt something wet and cold push against her face. Elmiryn's eyes creaked open. She was met with a furry visage. The woman grinned and lifted her head.
"Am I dead yet?" she asked the creature next to her.
Whatever it was growled. Before she registered what it was doing, it clamped its teeth around her ear and began to pull and tug. Elmiryn yelped as she felt a canine fang dig into her ear lobe, and incisors uncomfortably press her cartilage. Her bright eyes flew open wide, and she tried to keep up with the beast as it forced her to follow it. It gave an impatient yank every time she slowed. When she crawled rather than dragged, the creature let her go. It turned and fled onward, and the redhead watched its retreating form with a look of scandalized bewilderment. That's when she saw the gambeson, and the baggy brown pants.
Her mind unfolded with odd considerations. Her first immediate impression was that Nyx was a trendsetter in animal couture, but then this idea was discarded when she remembered that her companion had a crappy haircut and hand-me down clothes. ...Unless it was some new trend she hadn't heard of.
...No, of course not.
Elmiryn stumbled forward into a run after the animal, and she moved to sweep up her lost sword as she went by. As she did so, spots erupted in her vision and she fell to her knees, where they scraped painfully. Her brow still hurt, and she could feel blood drip down the side of her face. Her ear throbbed and she was certain the large panther (a term she used lightly) had managed to make her bleed a bit there too.
"Hey!" She shouted after it.
Her voice parted and echoed around her.
She was aware the guardian was still in pursuit. She spared it a glance when she took off again. Its inhuman voice reverberated around the oddly lit chamber, lacing with hers in some unholy matrimony, and its body stretched out in bloody rivulets of tendons and flesh. But she felt unconcerned with it. Even with the gain it had managed, the guardian still seemed to lag. Perhaps it was due to exhaustion, or illness, or it could even have been its spiritual ban at work. Regardless, the animal took precedence because Elmiryn couldn't get her mind over it.
Adrenaline sang through her, and her heart pumped hard in her chest. Her glove felt wet and sticky. The warm moisture actually made her skin itch, but she fought to ignore it. She just couldn't get over the animal.
...Animal. It was an animal. It was a four-legged...well, wait a moment. It could be a two-legged creature simply running on all fours. It certainly appeared that way.
As the panther ran, it had an awkward motion of the body that rolled, then bumped, rolled, then bumped. First it would push forward with its back legs and stretch its front legs out a bit too wide.  Then it would land with an uncomfortable jolt, because it would not bend its forelegs enough. The rear paws would swing forward and tuck in, then the process repeated. It was like a demented leap frog.
Elmiryn got the sense that the creature was holding back so that she could catch up. She thought this awfully obliging, but it was a bizarre consideration coming from a panther...or a cat...or...whatever.
The warrior ran no more gracefully than the creature before her, with her face turned ashen and drenched in sweat–but her abdomen tensed and her throat constricted in barely contained laughter at the absurdity of her situation. Then she got an idea.
They entered a new chamber, but this space still glowed with the same color of light as the last. The rocks here seemed bulbous and undulated in blossoming formations that layered and dipped. As they jumped down from a small plateau-like rock, the woman leaned down (and nearly fell head over heels before she steadied herself) and through harsh pants said, "Hey, did I ever mention to you that I've got a thing for hairy women?"
The panther did a curious cross between a growl and a squeak as it turned its broad head toward the woman with jaw hung low and its eyes opened wide. Then its great paws tripped on the uneven ground and it face-planted, rump in the air. Elmiryn beamed and stumbled to a stop before she rounded back and picked the dazed creature up by the back of its clothes. She had to use both hands to do this and leaned back with all her weight to effectively help the creature, who was quite large for a feline. She took note of the damp clothing, and the familiar smell of rusted copper.  Belatedly, she wondered where Sedwick was.
When the animal was up again, they took off through a set of limestone columns that reminded Elmiryn of tapioca pudding, and scaled up a rocky wall about ten feet tall that had few footholds. At the top, they went through a small crawl space that could only accommodate one of them at a time. The beast went first. Then Elmiryn followed. She smiled at the being before her, whose ears had been turned flat against its head. Beyond it, she could see nothing but darkness. Still, she felt a warmth in her heart, knowing that she was not alone.
"I'm really glad you're back, Nyx," Elmiryn said.

NYX____________________________
My snout hurt.
I tasted blood in my mouth, and it made me want to snarl. One of my fangs, it seemed, had pierced the inside of my upper lip in that embarrassing misstep. The bleeding had already stopped, but the taste remained just as a ghost haunting me. It didn't help that I could smell Elmiryn's blood on her skin. She reeked of it. I suspected that somewhere she was seriously hurt, because the amount I could smell did not match the bit that trickled down the side of her face. My clothes, too, stunk of stale life. It made me crazy.
I scaled the rock wall with a great jump and my claws scraped at the top before they found a crack to grip into. I pulled myself up and slunk through the narrow crawl space that led into darkness. No light illuminated the way. I didn't pause to consider this as behind me I could hear the creature enter into the chamber. It screeched, and I could hear it slop and slosh against the wall Elmiryn and I had climbed.
My eyes adjusted to the lack of light in this new space, and my whiskers quivered at the slight change of air current...that is to say, I sensed there WAS an air current. I hadn't even realized it, but where I had been before had lacked any true circulation of air. The environment seemed only to move as I moved, startled out of its complacent drifting as something alive and harried barreled through it. Perhaps that was what contributed to the stench of the caverns. It made me panic for a moment, to think how deep those caverns went, and how far we were lost in them.
My mind was in a flurry, and I thought about all these things. I didn't glance back to see if Elmiryn was okay.  Her breath came in harsh gasps behind me, but her exhaustion didn't earn much sympathy from me.  I couldn't believe that she was still capable of tomfoolery when we were being accosted by possible death. (doubly so, for my ability to still be bothered by such things, given the situation)
"I'm really glad you're back, Nyx."
This, however, made me pause. I turned my head, not quite ready to look at her full on yet. Did Elmiryn know that it was ME, the civilized Nyx, that resided in this bestial body?
I reached the other side of the rock wall. I stepped down onto a slim bit of rock that dropped off clean on one side, as if something had broken it in half, and which sloped gracefully on the other.
Elmiryn sighed. "Nyx, you'll have to help me. I can't see shit." Then she added, like it were just an afterthought, "Oh, by the way. That thing that's following us? It's the river guardian. Doesn't it remind you of that deer we had the other day? It kind of made me hungry."
I had this overwhelming urge to bite her again. Hard.
"Anyways," Elmiryn continued, sitting on the little ledge with a sigh as she caught her breath. "I think we can relax for a second. The guardian can't follow us up here." She paused and I could hear her shift as she looked back. "Yep. There it goes, back the way it came. It's bound by a spiritual ban, so that means it has to behave as a river. Rivers don't flow uphill."
This was a small comfort. These caverns had proven to be quite confusing. I didn't doubt the guardian would find us again.
My eyes caught what little light there was, and I saw that this chamber, unlike the others, did not have a clear path to walk. The floor had no even surface, and was littered with sharp broken bits of rock.  There was also a lot of water, which I could only sense because of the stagnant smell that came up to my sensitive nose. This made my back bunch, but I could not tell, from where I was, how much water there was exactly, or if a reflection could be seen.  There just wasn't enough light. Overhead, stalactites of great sizes hung from the ceiling. Some came down so low they obscured my view of the other side of the chamber completely.
Despite these daunting obstacles, I made out some flat surfaces that I and Elmiryn could safely use to reach the other side. There were two huge outcroppings on the left, as well as some stalactites that seemed to have been broken off that trailed out of sight. It made me think someone else had been here before, but whatever the reason, it gave us a way to move forward.
I looked at Elmiryn and without thinking I attempted to speak. I tried to tell her, "Grab my tail and follow carefully. Use your hands and feet to feel around." What came out instead sounded like a small moose calling out as it licked its teeth.
She gave me a bemused look. "Sorry, I don't speak...whatever that was."
I growled and whacked her side with my tail as hard as I could. Elmiryn gave a start and stared at it for a moment before she sheathed her sword and grabbed the tail gingerly with her left hand. "Um..." she scratched her head, "Isn't this kind of a big deal in your culture?"
I looked forward again with a ducked head. In my culture, an Ailuran's tail, despite widespread misconceptions, was not so much a sexual object, but rather, a means of intimacy. My brothers pulled my tail whenever I bothered them, and my mother used to brush her tail along my side in a show of affection. I did not let myself dwell on the fact that Elmiryn was holding it. I tried to think of it in a practical sense. Like keeping balance or marking a trail.
I carefully padded down the smooth slope of the rock I stood on, and resisted the urge to yank myself out of Elmiryn's grip when I felt her caress my fur a bit.
My companion followed well enough, but her breath was shallow. We had to move slowly so that she could see where to go. I was lucky that we didn't need to jump any huge spaces. I wasn't sure how to get the warrior to follow me safely if we did.
I gave a little hop to the outcrop and I felt Elmiryn's grip on my tail tighten. "I can kind of see...what is that? A boulder? Nyx, is that a boulder?" She asked.
My only answer was to jerk my tail. She hesitated. I wondered how well she could make out her surroundings, given her curse. We had been together for so little time when you thought about it. How much faith did the warrior have in me to trust my judgment, especially given the state I was in?
Elmiryn stretched and crawled onto the outcrop with me.
"Hey, why are we crawling around up on these things for, anyway? What's down below on the cave floor?" the woman asked. It wasn't as if I could give her a real answer. The way she spoke though, made me hesitate.
In the few days I had known her, I had heard Elmiryn's voice take on many dimensions. This was one I had not yet encountered. It was a voice not weak in spirit, but in body. My mind returned to the heavy stench of blood that emanated from her, and I realized with a great spike of anxiety that she had lost a lot more than I thought. So much, that I was no longer certain we would even be able to safely cross the room together.
[Not together you won't.]
On the second outcrop, I stopped and looked back at the woman. Perhaps it was the fact that we weren't running anymore, that the monster wasn't bearing down on us, or that our concentrated efforts were no longer focused on just running fast, but moving carefully...whatever the reason, Elmiryn's adrenaline and energy seemed to be giving out. I could see her body shake, even as she sat crouched like a gargoyle against the backdrop of dark shadows.
I looked toward our destination. From where I was, with my view no longer impeded by the stalactites that seemed to plague the center of the area, I realized that the chamber actually continued further than I thought. Through a jagged arch, I could see many passages yards away, and they stood out in the sea of ink with natural light. I know it was natural, because it did not glare in sharp contrast as the other routes had...instead, the light seemed feeble, like it spilled from a more open source further on.
...I looked back at Elmiryn with a long face.
She smelled so close to death...so much so that the unnaturalness of the caves seemed to eagerly become one with her.
I wasn't even sure about the pools of water I saw down below. I peered down at them, leaning over the edge of the outcrop as much as I dared. There still wasn't enough light on this side to offer a proper reflection. Were the river guardian's familiars lurking below, waiting for us?
I felt Elmiryn's grip on my tail disappear and gazed at her in alarm.
She had sat back onto her rump, one knee bent, the other leg tucked beneath it. She rested her head on her bent knee and I couldn't see her face. "Nyx..." she said quietly. "I think...I know...what you're thinking." Elmiryn looked at me, and though her eyes landed on me, they didn't focus. This was hardly surprising–it was so dark I imagine her human eyes could barely make out a thing–but in them was a distance I found disturbing.
"I want you to go. I decided..." then she smiled a smile that spread far across her face. "I decided I'm going to die."
My guts turned to ice.
"Hey.  No look, really.  It's fine.  I've got it all worked out.  I'm not surrendering, or anything.  That definition is different.  It's completely different, so it's all fine."
Inside, I could hear the other hissing.
[She says to go, so go!]
I shook my head and my eyes burned. I turned around fully and pawed at Elmiryn's knee as a mewl came from the back of my throat. She reached up to pat my head, then seemed to think better of it and brushed the side of my face with her right hand instead. Tears matted my fur, and the warrior wiped these away, tsking.
"Cut that crap out. I don't appreciate your silly human antics. Cats don't cry, remember?" Then she grumbled in a darker tone when I butted her hand with my head, "Seriously. Quit it. You've no fucking reason to get upset. Just run." She gave me a little shove.
I'm not sure which hurt more. The fact that she was speaking in such fatalistic tones, or the fact that I wanted to do exactly as she asked. Inside, I could feel my other self pace anxiously. As far as she was concerned, Elmiryn was of no more use to us.
[She failed her promise!  We tried to save her, so our debt is done.  We've no reason to stay!]
I hesitated. Elmiryn seemed so beyond me, which must sound odd, but I find it difficult to put into words. ...Given my state, I suppose that would've been appropriate. But the heaviness that seemed to weigh down on her, like life was threatening to crush her...I became afraid. I stared at her, nose flaring, trying to find a scent that would tell me there was a chance for her.
All I could perceive was my own end.
I took one step back and felt my chest pull. I could feel baser instincts urge my legs to move, but I wasn't sure in what direction. Elmiryn had turned her face away from me. It wasn't shame really. Her face had turned to the cavern floor in what appeared to be a lazy interest, and she leaned forward to get a better view. It was like I didn't matter anymore.
...Which wasn't fair at all.
I turned, claws scraping on the rock, and bounded away to the broken stalactites where I balanced on them awkwardly like little stepping stones. I then leaped up onto a rocky bed, which was some five feet from the ground.
On the other side, I was met with a floor that seemed to be made of glass.  There were many smooth and reflective surfaces, lit by a light that came to the chamber to die.
Nervously, I touched down to a dry spot on the ground and leaned over to gaze in one of the many pools that stood between me and freedom. I gave a start for a moment, before I realized that the face I saw in the water was indeed mine. I blinked and straightened. The uneven ground separated the little bodies of water. I moved cautiously forward through the spaces in between, head low as I glanced into each pool to see my dark face stare back at me. The minutes ticked by, and they felt like forever. My paws tread on lit rock, and my heart lifted in bittersweet joy.
I was almost there.
Then I heard a splash behind me and a giggle that faded into some drawn out alien sound. I stopped and looked back with a whip of my head, my ears perked and strained in the direction of the noise.  It unraveled in the air around me, and I didn't hear a person, but an animal lost.
Before I could stop to consider what it was I was doing, I began to run back the way I came.  Haste and worry dispelled my consideration for the waters I had been so fearful of, and my bandaged paws splashed through them.  The thought of Elmiryn dying put me in such a state that–
[Her words became nebulous and distant.  Inside, she was in conflict.  She wished to live and wished to be rid of that nightmarish place...but to go on alone in a world eager to swallow her was just as terrifying.  She sought out her only friend.]
Friend.
I grasped at the word and clumsily made a return to myself as I come again to the jagged arch.
I didn't understand the woman who hid a lover in her voice, a child in the gleam of an intoxicated gaze, and an unflinching soldier by the sweep of her sword.  But she was sincere, even in her risky attempt to save me, and beyond our conflicts in character, there was one thing I was certain of.
Elmiryn was my friend, and I didn't want to see her die...
...by any definition of the word.

NYX____________________________
She laid quiet on her side.  I knew the fall must have hurt–should have–but I didn't know if she had any broken bones.  She was conscious, I knew that.  Knew it, because she just kept humming.  Elmiryn was smiling...and humming.
When I looked down at her in that pool of shadow, I could hear her voice.  It was a swirl of surrealism, and perhaps, to a human, it would've been inaudible, but I could hear her.  Elmiryn's knees were curled to her chest, and she hugged them to her curled lips.  Her eyes were closed, and the blood that stained her skin had been washed away by the water she lay in...no, rolled in.  I'm certain she had been rolling in it.  I became afraid that she had drank some of it, but her behavior was more reminiscent of a child drained from hours of play then a person close to death.
I jumped down to a small spot where the rocks that littered the floor didn't seem so menacing, but water pooled in large amounts.  I only suffered a sharp poke for my trouble, and the startled water splashed my muzzle, leaving it to drip as I hovered over Elmiryn's prone form.
I recognized the song she was humming.  The one she had forbade me from even thinking of.  Just as before, no adverse effects came from hearing the melody from her.  This confusion only lasted a moment though, as I found myself confronted by another problem.
The wall that I had jumped down from was approximately five feet high.  Elmiryn was taller than that, and when I stood on my hind legs, so was I, but there was that bothersome detail of how to get an unconscious woman over such an obstacle without opposable thumbs.  I sat on my haunch, furry face scrunched in anxiety as I looked from my companion to the wall and back.  I then tried to paw at her, to see if that would rouse her out of her stupor.  I shook her a bit, but she didn't respond other than smiling a little wider.  I then tried to nuzzle her arm, but she only hugged herself tighter.  For a brief second, and without a hint of malice or irony I might add, I thought about biting her ear–but I was pretty sure I nicked her last time doing that, so I decided against it.
She had lost a lot of blood.  Despite the water I could still smell it.  So I wondered...Why wasn't she completely unconscious?  She was out of it, yes...but still lucid.
...But even going beyond that, why wasn't Elmiryn dead?
These mysteries aside, my thoughts turned to an unsavory idea.  My heartbeat quickened just to think it, but I was at a loss as to what to do.  How much time had been wasted in this space?  How much longer before the river guardian cut off our escape?  How much longer before Elmiryn...before she...
I clenched my jaw.
"There's no way around it," I thought.
Ailurans and Lycans were the only two therian races to have five shifting forms.  On the spiritual spectrum, it ranged from the two forms closest to anthroporthic thought to bestial instinct.  Then there was the full form–the one in perfect harmony both with the man and beast in all of us.  In my native tongue, we call it, "Ekilluos" and it is reserved for special ceremonies and times of war, due to the great strength and heightened sense of passion one feels.
I tried to access this part of me, to actively shift the shape of my body to become that which I had become only once in my life before.  In my schooling, I was taught to recognize and respect that part of my soul.  It writhed, like a tangle of snakes in a burlap sack–and it was coarse on my mind.  On my thoughts.
...But just as I was about to submerge myself completely in this energy...
She blocked me.
[You fool, what do you think you're doing!?]
My back bunched and I felt my lip curl back to show my fangs. "I need to!  It's the only way!"
[Give control back to me.  You know I'm the one--]
"NO."  I could already feel her intent.  My paws itched with her desire to run.  If I gave her control, she would abandon Elmiryn, I was certain of it.  "This isn't a discussion.  Fade back into the darkness and sleep, cretin."
[Why do we play this game?]
[She feels the beast pull on her body.  She pulls back and a dangerous growl rumbles from her throat.  The tug of war continues as they talk.]
[Always dreaming, always pretending--you dress yourself up in your pretense and you expect the truth to wither away in the shadow that you sweep it under.  But see what comes of it!  It's all just folly!  You KNOW you aren't real.  Without me, you are nothing.]
"Shut up.  You may have access to my Expression, but the words are still mine!  Do you hear me!?"
[It's highly amusing then, that it's MY arms and hands you ask for.]
"Stop it, just stop it! I have to save Elmiryn before–"
[I don't have to do anything!  You should have--I should have kept on running!  This is madness.  To even consider shifting to Ekilluos when we know what happens--!]
"YOU SELFISH MISCREANT, GIVE ME WHAT'S MINE!  YOU HAVE NO RIGHT, YOU HAVE NONE AT ALL!"
[The beast laughs, but it is a bitter sound that is devoid of any true satisfaction.]
[Idiot.  The only one stopping you, is you.]
[She roars, and sediment is startled from the ceiling.  Elmiryn stirs, and her eyes creak open.  Nyx, the girl trapped in the animal's body, curls in on herself.  Her muscles shake and she snarls and pants.  No more words, no more dressed up thoughts.  Just the present obstacle--the one inside her, that denies what she wants.  It makes her infuriated.  She backs up until she finds herself against cold damp rock, then falls to the side as something gives out.  Nyx's eyes slip shut.  She is no longer aware of what's around her.  She has retreated inside, to better deal with the usurper.  This coup of the body will stop, she swears it, even if it means losing a part of herself forever.
In her head, it is a ghostly cold place that stretches and warps with abstract reasoning and sensations.  They pierce and part her as she delves down deep to where She is hiding.  The animal, upright but still as a cat even on the inside, looks at Nyx startled.
She is shocked to see The Other has risked all just to gain control--and for what?  Here, Nyx--a name they quibble over, but by right belongs to the two-legged half--looks as a human does, but scuttles on the ground like an animal.  Her teeth gnash and she leaps with hands tensed like claws.  The two personas collide.
Disorientation rules as they tumble through a cascade of memories that leaves them without breath.  Cold winters.  Mourning.  Stumbling fear.  Unable to deal with the complexity that comes with these gray pictures, the animal faints, her lack of control over her newfound faculties proving to be Her downfall.  As a creature of nature, she knew pain, but it was never so vast and overwhelming as the concerns of a two-legger.  The Other, though, braces against these images and feelings.  She understands this pain already.  For many nights, it had been the only thing to put her to sleep.
No longer blocked, Nyx lopes to the place in her soul that is warmest.
Her hopes rest there.  In her eyes, she can perceive worse fates with inaction, than in the risk she takes.  In a sense it has all become relative.
To prove herself worthy of her Mark by fleeing, or to remain at the risk of horrible failure.  Those were her choices.
Her decision leads her to burn herself with her own passion.
Her muscles pull and expand first in the chest.  Because of her rash haste, her body is confused.  The skin stretches and tears from the flesh that pulls it apart, and the bones strain against her heart and lungs, which in turn become larger as well.  This pain is excruciating, and she can't even manage breath to scream.  But the skin and the bones begin to shift with the rest of the body, as if pushed into action by an obnoxious parent.  Her clothes shift easily with the form that grows and changes beneath it.  Several minutes later, Nyx opens her eyes to find Elmiryn has rolled to her back and is gazing dreamily up at her.]
"...So turnip's can grow after you pluck 'em?  What a thought!"
Lip pulled back.  I snarled.
Redhead.
Idiot.
...Friend.
I hated her for this trouble.  But she tried.  I owed her.
So now I would try.

Author's Note At the risk of sounding melodramatic, there was a lot of turmoil in my heart at this point in the story. It felt like being at war with myself. That's when I decided to play this out in Eikasia. I didn't want Nyx to just have a part of herself she didn't like...I wanted her to have a counterpart that battled her---both mentally AND physically. It was the ultimate expression of my anger and self-loathing. Thankfully, these days I don't feel that way too much, but there are times when I still feel as if a beast is pushing just underneath the skin...

Sight
ELMIRYN________________________
Elmiryn cared about as much as anyone could care, with their mind drifting in a primordial soup of half-formed ideas and dark static. Where was she? Who knew. What was she supposed to be doing? Who cared. She was wallowing in the tears of gods–wretched beings who screwed her over because of her penchant for drink and biting steel. No faces, no images, no damned misconception haunted the woman, even as she felt herself lift up out of the pools of sadness.
Ghosts can never be haunted themselves, after all.
She giggled at the idea.
"...can't see me..." Elmiryn slurred as a rope of saliva slipped out the edge of her mouth. She felt like she were hanging over something, and she thought she heard a grumbling and a rumbling. Her nose rubbed into a fabric that smelled familiar–dusty and wild. Her mind distilled with an idea, and because nothing else sounded plausible (or interesting) she stuck to it.
"...I'm being carried by a turnip."
She tried to shift and lifted her head, eyes barely open, to better see whatever it was that now had her. "Arr...arrrr..." she snickered and made a hook with her finger. "Yar." But Elmiryn shook the humor from her head. She had an important question. So she willed her mouth to work.
"Turn-ip. Oi, turnip...have you...aren't you...yeah, that's it...aren't you thirsty? Gotta drink...right? Try the tears...gods tears...hey turnip...heeey...." Elmiryn tried to force her voice to a level she thought reasonable, but then this concern became irrelevant.
"Ah'm talkin' to a fuggin' turnip..." She muttered, as she allowed her head to drop again. "Why'm I...y'know I don't remember drinkin'...so wassamatter...wif me?" Her ears were ringing. She swiped at them. "Damn noise. I think I'm s'posed to be something. Not doing something...not...no, that's different... yeah, I'm being something wrong, aren't I? I'm wrong...I'm all wrong..."
Then she remembered. "Nyx?" She pushed away from the wild fabric, hands planted shakily, and felt it shift beneath her palms. Elmiryn blinked and thought she saw feet flashing in and out of view, but they didn't look human. "...Hey...Nyx...where are you...?" Her eyes teared up. "You didn't go did you? Fuck...I didn't think you'd actually do it...or at least I don't think I did..."

NYX____________________________
Elmiryn kept talking. Thought she was unconscious. Or close to it.
Kinda wished she were all the way unconscious.
Wouldn't stop wiggling.
But then–
Obstruction.
I halted my steps.
Sedwick.
Shadow in my light. Blocked the way out.
Don't know where he came from.
...He smelled like rotten meat.
"You...bitch..." I heard him say. He held up his spear and screamed.
I dropped Elmiryn and screamed back.
...I hated all of this...

ELMIRYN________________________
She felt herself crash onto a hard surface, as if unceremoniously dumped. Spots and pain wracked through her. Elmiryn blacked out, and she slipped through a grate of existence that could no longer hold the grains of her being. She was in an inky void.
One that sang.
Elmiryn, reduced to a collected consciousness that ebbed and flowed, considered her situation. ("I know this song.") Melodious black. ("I sing it to others.") Had she finally discovered death? Funny how even in her stupor, she managed to rebel against the simple concept of laying down to die.
...But something was amiss. She could feel something foreign and invisible root its way into her being. And why, in all this space, did she feel like she were being crushed?
The haunting melody of this dark nothing world threaded and weaved into her–she could feel it. Words within the notes came and stirred within her as they spirited away things she could not name. ("I thought there were no lyrics...")
This isn't a pretentious sojourn into human psychosis.
Your thoughts are suspect. Your feelings are suspect.
Callous as an animal, it's no wonder you make friends with the deranged.
So...our intrepid heroine NOW finds appearance important.
Without the 'appearance' of sympathy, you risk your soul decaying faster.
Pretend to care, pretend to want, pretend to feel.
It was clever getting thread to stitch and hold yourself together.
...but if the thread was poorly spun?
Her consciousness swirled, fury stirring it like water in a cup.
("Meznik!")
What?
("Bastard, I'll kill you!")
Why are you angry at me?
Her thoughts seemed to expand. She resisted the music and fought the roots of its melody as it attempted to suck her away. To what she didn't know. She didn't understand any of this, she just knew...
("I'll have your head!")
Without a proper reason for it, I see no way for it to fall into your hands.
("Why are you doing this?")
Ah. It's true. You want me dead, but you don't even know why.
("I bet you get a kick out of all of this.")
Not true. The essence I'm harvesting from you is hardly enough.
I'm feeling empty.
You leave me feeling empty, Elmiryn. I figure this is only fair.
("What is?")
Your companion will die. She's powerful as she is, but her inability to control herself will soon prove her mishap. And the guardian isn't even here yet.
Isn't this amusing?
("I'll get free of this...") The roots burrowed in deeper. Her thoughts became fractured and maligned. ("I...will...free...") Sentences broke apart. All she was left with...
...Your hate isn't acidic, or even bitter. How is this possible? Your loathing is just this effervescent mass.
...I take it back. You may fill me just yet.
Elmiryn felt herself get pulled up–as much as she had an understanding of up or down–and she became aware of a warmth in the conscious darkness. Close by was a tightly tangled, nettled knot of pulsing green light. Beyond it, a loose blue and white bundle of threads that squirmed like worms in a bucket. Still further on, but closing in fast by some curious weave and path of its own, was a white hot stream.
Alarmed, Elmiryn's thoughts condensed and wrapped around two concerns.
What were these things? And what was that white light coming towards her?
Why concerned, Elle? Do you even KNOW if the light is coming for you? Maybe it's coming for something else?
Then what will happen when it will come? She wondered.
Consumption, I suppose. I don't know. I'm not controlling this scene anymore than you are.
But you are, is the wordless feeling that caused Elmiryn to condense further. ("...All...your...doing...")
MY doing? I shift some mirrors and backdrops around and suddenly this is my fault? It was the guardian's choice to go mad, just as it was your choice to hunt me.
("...choice?")
Yes. Choice. Someone as willful as you, Elmiryn, knows all about it, I'm sure.
("But this...can't...doesn't make any...")
Of course it makes sense. You just lack perspective.
The word echoed, like vocal percussion, beneath the melody that now seemed as one with her. ("...I can't...see from here...")
See what?
Her thoughts hardened completely, locking inside them the Unnamed Song. She became aware of limbs, of breath, and of the heart beating feebly in her chest. Though black still shielded her gaze, she made to stand. Her body didn't seem to understand her command, or was too feeble to comply, but the simple fact that she could try, made her double her efforts.
If the attempt could be made, chances were...she could succeed.
"I said...I can't see...from here..."
...Elmiryn.
She began to hum, to block him out–that leeching bastard. She matched him, note by note, like a wife hogging the sheets. He could not reside in the music. Not if she pushed him out.
"Gaze through your slime, asshole..." she thought with a curled lip. "I know now that's how you've been watching this whole time. By the slime on the walls. That's why they kept changing color, like signals. You wanted us to end up here, didn't you?" She started to pick things out of the black fog in her vision.  Her lidded eyes stared through damp locks as she saw a battle rage between two phantoms–Nyx and Sedwick.  The image only grew clearer.
What good...opening your eyes...can't see?
"I can see fine," she said with a grin as she pushed herself up to her knees. Elmiryn removed her bracer and, with shallow breath, peeled back her glove. Her eyes blinked, then she grinned wider. Feeling returned to the wound on her palm, and it was not puffed up at all. Even the stitching had managed to hold. "I see I'm not really bleeding."
With a few quick breaths, the warrior shoved herself to her feet. Her vision erupted in spots, and she reeled for a moment before a shake of the head steadied her. Elmiryn ran her tongue over her lips where a few drops of water had clung to. It tasted of sediment.
"I see that the water is not really poisoned." She drew her sword.
One foot before the other. Elmiryn felt her center of gravity leave her, and the air about her wavered like curtains in the breeze. She assumed the large form she saw in front of her was Nyx. The Ailuran battled against the shorter, but stockier form of Sedwick, whose armor and voice (though strained as it was) gave him away.
"I see that Nyx is still here."
They had trailed away some yards, Nyx with the blacksmith backing steadily toward a misshapen wall as she spat and hissed at him. She gave great swipes with her claws, her body crouched low to the ground. The man parried her attacks and never lost his footing. Upon her third swipe, Sedwick ducked low and thrust upward.
Nyx roared as the blacksmith's spear dug into her left shoulder. With a strength that belied his size, the man pushed the Ailuran back, a roar of his own betraying his countenance of self-control and confidence.
Elmiryn, who had been dimly advancing toward them, lurched forward with her sword held up and a spark ignited in the dark of her eyes. Feet away, she thought she registered some rotten odor, and it was in the poor light that she realized something was wrong with Sedwick's face–like it had been deformed and twisted.
Uncertain of the circumstances of this situation, the warrior opted to swipe at the spear first. With one stroke, the wood splintered. Nyx stumbled back, snarling. Sedwick let out a scream at his decimated weapon and turned menacingly on the woman. Some of his spit landed on her collar bone. Elmiryn, blank in expression, moved instantaneously.
As Sedwick thrust the broken end of his spear toward her gut, she stepped aside and wrapped her free arm around his. With the tender flesh of his forearm against the side of her ribcage, Elmiryn kneed the blacksmith in the stomach, and before she brought her foot down, twisted her leg so that she hooked the back of the man's left leg. She pulled then stepped down at it harshly. This forced Sedwick into a kneel.
Still with his arm trapped, Elmiryn then took the hilt of her sword and seriously considered slicing the appendage off before opting instead to simply strike hard at his elbow. He grunted as his arm spasmed and released the broken shaft.
The redhead placed the blade at Sedwick's throat. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked quietly. She could feel her blood rushing through her, but it was a curious feeling–and one she realized she wasn't supposed to be conscious of.
Behind her she heard the scrape of claws on rock. Elmiryn shoved Sedwick to the ground and stood between him and Nyx. Her eyes had adjusted well enough to the darkness that she could see the contortion of anger in the Ailuran's face. Was it even safe to call her a girl anymore, now that she could tower over Elmiryn with little effort?
Nyx skittered to a halt, nose snorting in obvious frustration. Blood stained her gambeson. Elmiryn shook her head as the Ailuran stepped almost nose to nose with her and snarled something unintelligible.
"No...Nyx," she said slowly. "We can't kill him."
The woman gazed at her companion for a moment longer before turning around to gaze at Sedwick. The man had curled into a ball and whimpered under his breath as his body trembled. His exposed hands pulsed with thick, dark veins.
Elmiryn knelt by him. She recalled the white threads she saw, intertwined with blue ones. Her lips pursed. "Sedwick. You and the river guardian...you're somehow connected aren't you? That's why you've changed...right?"
The man peeked out from the folds of his arms. The woman couldn't see his eyes, but was certain a level of humanity was gone from their shine forever.
"I know things...as she does..." He breathed. "Not...it...it isn't harmony. We aren't connected." He sniffled and turned briefly to wipe his nose on his shoulder. Then with a grunt, he sat up. Elmiryn helped him, only vaguely aware of the growl that came out of Nyx when she did so.
"But I understand." Sedwick continued. "Her madness. And I have her strength, and I have her rage." Sedwick began to sob, and his scar wrinkled as his shoulders shook hard. "And I understand...her pain. It's overwhelming me. I can hardly make out myself in all that's stuffed my head now..." He wailed and buried his face in his hands. "And I let that other adventurer here to rot and die," he cried into his palms. "And I brought that young boy here to die, and it wouldn't have gone this far if that monster," he straightened and pointed at Nyx, his expression turned ugly. "Hadn't come here! If you hadn't come!" He yelled next at Elmiryn.
The roar of water crashing against rock.
Elmiryn turned her head at the sound. "Sedwick, you said you understood what the guardian was thinking as its flesh became a part of you?"
He nodded his head, then turned his face away. "I'm only just controlling myself now...but I feel like I'm fading into the background. The guardian's knowledge is my knowledge now. That's how I found you. There's another way in here from the right, past that boulder. She's coming through there now."
The dim light of the cavern was blotted out as the river guardian spilled out of the very entrance Sedwick pointed out and drew itself before the lit archways. It screeched. Elmiryn somehow knew it was a sound addressed to her.
She stood and took slow steps toward it, and her boots made ripples in the puddles she trailed through. The ground smoothed as she came nearer, and the puddles ceased to be. She stood on dry rock, the guardian's wayward sanctuary. She wanted to meet it with little aversion. It would not touch the water. It was repelled by the water, though it suffered without it.
Disconnected. Fractured. As Elmiryn was.
The answer was in front of her. She could see it, clear as day. So she spread her arms wide and let her sword clatter to the ground.
Elmiryn smiled, showing all teeth.
"Meznik, I can see...that the guardian doesn't really want me dead."
And quick as a flash flood, the spiritual creature surged forth and swallowed her beneath its crimson waves.

NYX____________________________
I wanted to kill Sedwick.
Bastard.
The pain drove my fury.
I ripped out his spear.
This made my vision go white.
I stopped for a moment. Caught my breath.
Then Sedwick attacked Elmiryn.
Everything in me bunched.
I charged toward them.
...Was stopped.
(Dull gaze.)
By her.
(Blank face.)
There was no fear.
(Not right.)
Hardly recognition.
Elle the Idiot stood in my way.
I got close and snarled.
She stayed her ground.
Her stare...bothered me.
But Sedwick was behind her.
Smelled repulsive.
Curled on the ground like a bug.
Pain in my shoulder, blood on my second skin–
Used to be mother's.
Blacksmith made mother's skin red.
My lip pulled back.
I wanted to taste his death.
But Elle wouldn't move.
Turned her back on me.
Talked to the man and wouldn't move.
I paced and tried to see if I could get around.
Couldn't, without hurting Elle.
She wouldn't move.
...She still smelled close to death.
But she didn't act like it...?
I sat and licked at my wound.
The question bothered me.
Beneath the fabric, skin knitted together.
Hurt less, but still stung.
There was a loud, scary sound.
Heard it before.
(Oh no.)
The crimson monster from before–the guardian.
I twisted around and yowled.
Saw the thing come into the light.
Slimed through a space across the room.
Where Sedwick came from?
Did he lead it here?
(Bastard.)
I turn and look at him.
But then–
–Elmiryn moved toward the guardian.
Dropped her sword.
I'm confused.
Looked back at her with tail twitching.
...Then I'm shocked.
The monster swallowed Elle.
Couldn't even see her.
My muscles bunched again.
(No, no, no...)
I pushed with all my strength into a run.
Got there in two bounds.
I tore at the monster with my claws.
Roared.
Screeched.
Hissed and spat.
(My gods, no.)
Flesh wrapped around my arms and legs.
Tendrils burrowed into me.
...it...hurt...
Footfalls.
Sedwick yelled behind me.
Felt him jump onto my back.
Plunged something sharp through my chest.
Elle's sword?
Arched my back as I fell.
Monster swallowed me.
Satisfied to hear the man scream too.
He didn't get away.
Sight left me.
I wished I could stop feeling too.
Then...
...and then...
I heard her.
I heard them all.

ELMIRYN??________________________
To call it pain would've been...incorrect. It transcended that base definition, that shallow understanding. It was intense, it was debilitating, yes. But pain? No. More like...
Euphoria.
Her veins were the guardian's veins; her thoughts, the guardian's thoughts.
The spiritual creature's flesh was not immediately invasive. They first canvased her skin. Then they pushed past the muscles–split them, pierced them–to get to the organs inside. Elmiryn felt the tendrils in her chest, knew they wrapped and mingled with her heart, her lungs, her stomach, her spine. She gave a violent spasm. Tried to scream and failed for the guardian had filled her mouth, throat, and lungs.
Was this rape? Was this murder?
Elmiryn's sensations became unquantifiable. For with the euphoric domination of her body, came also the parting of her mind. Things that were not hers, bits and pieces, like the shining trinkets of Nyx's bag, came spilling in.
As her sense of self-being evaporated, she realized with a start that it was not a 2-dimensional life she was entering. There was a third dimension. There was a fourth.
Things garbled together before segments pushed their way to the fore–
[Flash.]
A new beginning. It was the parting of a land drowned by rain and hail. A place was carved in the Earth, and with it, a duty to sustain life. Her sisters, the clouds, said unto her, "You are the veins of this land," and she gushed.
[Flash.]
Fleeing through snow, breath a ghost, a dark form ahead of her as angry cries chased at her back. The one before her was not running from her, but with her.
Barely old enough. None of it was fair. She knew it wasn't, knew it in her soul.
So they ran.
Those war mongers wouldn't take another brother away from her.
[Flash.]
In a warm cabin, with pipe in hand. He looked out his window to see a familiar, round-faced youth playing tag in the rain. A robust lad. Belonged to a family of five–father a retired soldier who helped with the smithing, mother a beautiful and dignified woman, and a small baby girl just learning to walk. A respectable lot. The boy was fortunate to have such a beautiful family. Pretty fortunate...
What was it like?
[Flash.]
They made a semicircle around her and leered like starved mongrels. "Time to bond," they said, "Time to break-in the new recruit," they said.
Like.  Hell.
She didn't spend years training just to allow this to happen. She started to giggle, and the soldiers around her scowled.
...Wouldn't her father find it amusing to hear, that her first kill was before she even left the barracks?
[Flash.]
Illness. Her river had become poisoned, tainted. She felt it affect her like a disease–twisting her flesh, marring it. Bastards, ungrateful heathens. Who did this to her? After all she had done, who would harm her river?
The clouds, her sisters, scorned her. They passed with heavy shadows and denied her land water. But it wasn't her doing!
It wasn't her doing!!
[Flash.]
Arms strung up. Heady smell of incense makes her dizzy. She is naked, and her manacles bite into her painfully. They built a hut of straw and mud, just for this occasion, because her presence could no longer be suffered in any structure built by her people. She didn't bother struggling. Tears streaked her dirty face but she made no sound.
"Nyx...I'm sorry...I..."
She closed her eyes at the young priest's voice.
"Ampelos, don't hold back," she whispered.  "It's okay."
Then she felt the knife at her back and saw white–
[Flash.]
The first, they had been the first. His family had gone down to the river for a picnic–the boy didn't want to go, wanted to be with friends–and they all just died. Blue faces, still in the grass, like they drowned on the inside. The boy, left alone, had no one to care for him. And the horror of it was that his family had only been the first. Soon, hundreds in the city began to die.
There was no one for the boy.
"...Baldwin, you can live with me a while..."
[Flash.]
It was a little annoying. She wasn't a fucking babysitter.  She ambushed by horseback, squatted in the mud, and conquered hillocks for heavens sake. Guarding doors wasn't utilizing her raw strength at all. It only tested her patience.
She could hear the princess pacing inside. Since her wedding engagement, the girl hadn't stopped.
At least the warrior wasn't the only one with an itch under the collar.
[Flash.]
A tree that sang. She saw it in her mind's eye. Mortals would have identified it as a vision, or a dream–but no, it was her reality. She saw this in the soil, in the water's currents, in her own shifting body. It was a great tree that's roots sucked and sucked away at her land.
It was related. Had to be. Who knew of the tree? Would this loud-mouthed adventurer barreling through her new sanctuary know?
...He wasn't answering her. How dare he.  Just on and on about his duty, and his reputation, and what he wanted.  But he wasn't answering her question.
Well she had roots of her own to burrow with, and she'd suck away the answers if need be.
[Flash.]
Mother had died. Shame, they'd told her. She didn't know. She stood at her grave with a white flower in hand...but she crushed it and threw it away. It would be better just to fade away. They had said to her she was too much trouble. Maybe they were right.
She'd learn control. Learn restraint.
Better to try and be quiet, cautious, and unassuming.
She had already lost everything being the contrary...
[Flash.]
She giggles beneath the sheets. The princess can't help it whenever her neck is kissed, and squeals when the moist petal between her legs is stirred. The warrior, in the twilight, couldn't really call this refined, but it had a grace to it that made her hungry. It was a beauty unaware of itself–bashful and sweet and humble. She was far too used to the soldiers in her unit puffing out their chests, behaving as Halward's gift to women; or worse yet, the aristocrats of the courts, posturing and squinting their eyes at everything.
What a bunch of fools.
The princess was a far better thing to pass the time with.
She hummed into the girl's back a song she could not recall the name to, and smiled...
[FLASH.]

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

The river guardian writhed.
It all came amid confusion. The memories of three others meshed with her own, and she struggled to make sense of it all. There was one whose recollections were so powerful they felt like they were stabbing into her; then another whose images hummed in pale color in the background; and lastly, the one whose memories were as faint as an aftertaste. The frustrating thing was, that the latter's thoughts were the most relevant. In them, the immortal being tasted the same corruption that had affected her river; Heard the haunting, leeching music that sapped away at her; felt the cold and the distance that began to grow between her and the world at large.
Elmiryn, her name was Elmiryn.
And in this warrior's thoughts, she saw her answers.
They made her weep.
Trickery! Foul, terrible deception! The being thought.
How could she not have seen? How could her soul–born by gods–been so easily manipulated? Was it really true, this so-called revelation? Her river had never been poisoned...only her mind, and because her belief was so strong...
No, no! It was too horrendous!
But the warrior's thoughts were her thoughts...and her curse, now the guardian's curse. At least that filtered view. At least that understanding. It was true. Oh, how perverse this self-proclaimed demon was. He had meant for all of this–must have. Why else did he give this one wayward soul the only means with which to see past his lies?
Things had to be mended. Quickly. The land's recovery was not impossible, but only if the guardian set to work immediately.
Her amorphous form swirled and bubbled in a slow and confused circle. Despite her knowledge, she needed time to orient herself, to shake off her madness and begin to replace her sentiments with more sensible ones. When she finally stirred out of her rote motion, it was like one coming out of a deep sleep.
Ah, but those three braves. She could not leave them here.
The river guardian carried the unconscious bodies in her flesh, like a pregnant mother, as she flowed back the way she came. Her familiars, watery golems that felt only as she felt and acted only as she desired them to, gurgled as she passed, and soon followed her steady trail. One separated from the herd to slither further into the caverns, a silent order from its mistress compelling it there.
The guardian exited from the caves from a back entrance that came out downhill. Over the brittle grass that crumbled to ash, she went until she came back to her river.
At the sight of it, she paused. For a moment, doubt nettled her. But then she pressed forward eagerly.
It was frothing with the anger and torment that had plagued her.
"Quiet now..." she said in her language of sounds and sensations. She dipped into the waters and cooed happily. "All is well...all is well..."
And the river quieted.
It was time to cleanse the three braves of their burdens. A rite of healing to start. Not as complicated as it sounded. In her curious tongue, the guardian chanted an archaic spell. Her body bubbled and wavered, and from it emerged a grotesque-looking body.
The one called Nyx. Marked Ailuran, whose memories were powerful, but whose mind was in disarray.
The being began to pull her flesh away, and thick veins and quivering muscles separated like liquid. But she felt resistance, like she were hooked. Determined, she pulled harder–and concern rose over whether or not she could safely extricate herself at all.
But the guardian made progress. Beneath the bunched gambeson, blood and puss were washed away by the currents as the two creatures pulled apart. With each millimeter gain, Nyx's body gradually transformed.
The visceral process brought the girl out of her coma, and her body arched as her mouth parted in a silent scream. Her bones shifted and snapped. Flesh sculpted itself in a memory of human-likeness. Hair receded to reveal smooth pale skin. Sympathetic, the guardian tried to move faster.
When Nyx's body was restored, and they were both completely free of one another, she held the therian tightly, above the water. "Speak," the being gurgled.
At first, the girl still appeared caught in some stupor. Glassy eyes stared up at the sky and she rasped like a fish out of water. Then her gaze shifted to the guardian.
Nyx's face crumpled and she whispered. "I'm...I'm back..."
The guardian bubbled in relief. The Animal she had recalled in her memories would never have reacted in such a way. She set the girl aside on the shore and whispered. "Stay there. Do not be afraid. I will help your friend next."

NYX____________________________
I crashed back into the fore of my mind, torn out of my primal fire to re-emerge restored to my rightful state. Things that had been lost to me, little things but things that inherently defined me, were once again at my disposal.
I was Nyx. I was light. I was the finite definition.
My words. These sentences that spilled into my head were mine alone, and never again would that dirt-sniffing heathen sully them again. I felt relieved and ashamed at the same time.
When I remembered which way was up and which way was down, I tried to see what was around me. My mind still suffered under a hailstorm of confusing images–memories that weren't mine, things that had a different taste in my mouth, a foreign feeling to my skin, an almost repulsive effect on my consciousness.
"Speak," something gurgled at me.
The guardian had its amorphous body wrapped about me. It had one long, thick bit of flesh above the water and craned towards me like a grotesque head. I could smell its flesh–hot with blood and affected by a faint illness that the water failed to wash away completely. I felt the urge to cry.
"I'm...I'm back..." I managed to say.
The guardian bubbled and set me aside on the river shore. It told me to stay put, and to not be afraid, because it would help Elmiryn.
The thought of the warrior made me want to cry even more. I felt like I had failed her, in every sense. She had nearly died, more than once, and even had to save me from making a grave mistake. I imagined her being angry with me, disgusted with me. Would she forsake our partnership in light of what had just happened?
I began to shiver.
The guardian had almost completely submerged in the water. A whirlpool started in the center of the river where the creature crept to. The water frothed and giggled.
I stared around, trying to keep calm. Then I noticed that I didn't see Elmiryn's body anywhere. Nor Sedwick's.
It was about that time that the water began to glow and an almost painful humming sound filled the air. It was like a bee–a steady drone that made me clap my bandaged hands over my ears and curl in on myself.
Then the water exploded. It rose several yards in the air, and the sound nearly blew out my ears. I was blown back by the force. I shook even harder than before, breath coming in uneven gasps as I pushed myself up onto my feet. My back muscles bunched, and my throat tightened.
The guardian rose out of the water, and in its embrace was Elmiryn, eyes still closed, body limp, her skin as pale as mine–perhaps even worse. My heart sank. I thought the worst. But then the guardian spoke to me.
"Young therian. Your friend is still alive. She is weak and will need someone to care for her. You will travel back to Gamath, and when she awakes, I would like for you both to return here." It turned its head and seemed to give a nod. "Further up the river, you will find one of my familiars waiting for you. They will have your missing belongings."
She then slithered close with Elmiryn held out, moving against the river current as though it weren't there. Startled, I came closer and took the woman into my arms. I felt them strain a bit with the weight, but I would make it. I would force myself to.
"Be sure to send someone to claim the bodies in the caverns," the guardian continued. "I fear there are more than just the adventurer and the youth you had entered with."
I shook my head. "They won't believe me when I tell them what's happened. They're...afraid of me."
The guardian reached down and scooped something from the river bed. She then dropped them into my right hand, which I opened after shifting Elmiryn's head enough that it was free. "Take these three pebbles," it said. "Drop them into a bucket. Make sure all are around to see it."
I frowned, but knew better than to ask.
The guardian then sat back. "Hurry, therian. The sooner the news is spread, the sooner this land may restore itself."
"But what of Sedwick?" Just saying the man's name made my stomach give a twist.
The being seemed to sigh. "Do not fret for him. You will see him when you next return. Go now."
I nodded and hurried off.  I dreaded the consequences should I fail.

The Truth Will Out
NYX____________________________
The stillness was disturbed only by the melancholy wind that moved the ashen ground to shift.
I was the defiler, there. The clumsy heathen, whose ragged breath and befuddled feet made a mess of things. All around me was dead. I was a perversity whose future was mirrored in the gray stunted world. My trail was marked by the clouds of ash that came up into the air. These phantoms drifted a yard or two, before they blanketed the corpses of animals. Milky eyes glared at me accusingly as I made my way.
Blood stained me. The quilted weave of my gambeson was tainted, the rips that marred it like wounds themselves. I could even feel a breeze in my left boot. The sole had begun to separate at the tip.
My muscles loathed me, and quivered beneath the strains of my commands. When exhaustion sought to overcome me, I would kneel in the desolation and try to catch my breath. My eyes tunneled, and sweat dripped from the tip of my nose. In my arms, Elmiryn's lanky body barely seemed to fit into my grip. Her head was cradled against my bosom, eyes shut and her breath faint. Her eyelids were red and raw, and her skin an evil complexion that suggested something unnatural.  I thought I felt a film on the tips of fingers when I shifted her in my embrace, but my attention was divided and the feeling too faint.
All the while, in my head, things that were not mine prodded me.  In realities separate from anything I had known, I felt the fires of the forge and tamed metal; I breathed cool waters, and made communion with the land; I drank deep poisons of debauchery, and tasted flesh without discretion.  Some of these things, these memories, were Elmiryn's, I knew...but I made an effort not to pay it any mind.  I pushed these images away as best I could, forcing my own recollections to the forefront of my mind–primarily that of the recent days.  Those other memories, the shadowy plays that performed in my head in aberrance, were a threat to me and thus revolted me.
My head seemed barely capable handling two personas, how could I stand the memories of others, however feeble?
Every time I felt myself too enthralled with a particular thought, every time I felt myself come too close to empathizing with something foreign, I moved. Forced myself forward in sloppy standard, like a drunkard startled out of his settlement. It worked, to some degree. I didn't drown in what wasn't mine. But still, things slipped through, and I kept returning to nagging details...
Elmiryn was a soldier of the Fiamman army. That armor, those weapons, the architecture of the buildings I saw in her past. It was unmistakable. She had been an agent of the imperialist kingdom and committed adultery.
That alone was hardly startling.  Elmiryn seemed the sort for it, and I imagined she would have had no qualms to confessing that sort of thing in a crowded room. The fact that made my hands curl, that made my jaw tight and my mouth dry...was that she had done it with a princess. A serious offense, even in my culture, where promiscuity was culled only by the desire to exact power.
My chest tightened when the abstruse maelstrom of feelings settled heavy in my gut.
Elmiryn had once told me she had been a fool in the past. I now believed her.
...But I was grateful for the choices she made.  I could admit this only in my head, as it repelled me in many ways to congratulate her for her poor choices.  In life, just as the stories I read, I saw the world ripple in a reactionary chain that ended in our current moments.  There were times when the exact source of such end truths were shrouded by confusion or concealment, but the answer was as tangible as the first seed planted into the earth.  It isn't so much that I believe in fate...but the certainty of variables, too numerous to name.
The bottom line was this:  If Elmiryn hadn't made the choices she had, we would never have met, and she never would have saved me.  I would be dead.  Or alone and listless.  An equal, if not, worse fate.
It was her need for self-gratification that restored some sense of meaning in my life.  Funny that.
This dizzying rejoinder to my proprietous criticism made me not want to think anymore. Before I knew it, cobbles were once again beneath my feet, and I made fast cuts through the shadows of buildings.
At some point, I became aware that I was staring deep into the grain of the main doors of the tavern. As if on cue, my knees buckled then, and the other things I had been carrying–Elmiryn's bow and scabbard–fell to the ground. Elmiryn's limp body almost tumbled out of my grasp.  I clung to her, reminded of a doll I once hugged tight when frightened.
I looked up towards the large paned windows, and saw the faces of many peer down at me. I froze, momentarily forgetting what I was even doing there. Then I remembered, and made to speak.
"...help..." My voice was reedy and dry.
None of the peasants moved at first. Then the door opened and a barefoot man with a scraggly face and overgrown amber hair peered down at me from swollen-red eyes.
"Where's Sedwick and Baldwin?" he asked in a hollow voice.
I looked up at him and blinked slowly. I forced my voice to an audible volume. It cracked as I answered, "Sedwick is with the guardian. ...Baldwin...he...he didn't make it.  But the river has been restored!  All will be well again!"
The man said nothing. A muscle in his cheek moved and he looked back at his companions, who crowded behind him in the doorway. He looked forward again, toward the sky, then down at me. "Why has no rain come? Why are the skies still gray?"
"I have something that will prove I'm telling the truth." I reached in my pocket slowly. "The guardian gave it to me. All I need is a bucket."
The man stared me down. It seemed an eternity before he turned and murmured something to someone behind him. A moment later a wooden bucket was dumped unceremoniously in front of me. The man crossed his arms and those behind him pushed a little to get a better view of me.
I swallowed and dropped the pebbles into the bucket, one at a time.
They hit the bottom with sharp 'clacks'.
Then there was the sound of running water. The man and I both blinked, equally startled by the sound, and leaned forward to look down into the shadow of the bucket. It didn't even take half a minute before water flowed over the bucket's lips. My pants got wet around the knees.  I gazed in wonder at the magical display.
Still, the man and those behind him didn't smile. Instead, murmurs broke out. The amber-haired leader knelt down and gestured toward the water. "Drink." His eyes were starved and hungry, and his face had become like hard-edged stone. I quailed beneath his stare, but I did as he bid, silently praying that nothing happened to me.
I touched my lips to the flowing water, and drank. My body tingled and flushed. The sensation surprised me, and made me choke a little, but I didn't stop. I felt lighter, warmer, stronger.  My gulps became desperate.
When I thought I'd had enough, I pulled away and looked at the man with a look of wonder. He looked at me expectantly–waiting to see if something happened.
But with the seconds that passed, his suspicion lessened. Instead, the hunger on his face intensified, and without a word or gesture, he dove at the bucket.  I cried out as a mad scramble happened. The peasants fell over themselves through the doorway, and their bodies squeezed and pressed past the wood as they gibbered like beasts.  I held Elmiryn closer to me and stood out of the way, my feet tripping over themselves in my haste.
The ground before the door was submerged beneath the clear, clean water that gushed forth. Little streams weaved through the cobbles. The peasants lapped at it, like dogs, on hands and knees and moaned at the taste of it. I knelt and shifted Elmiryn so as to free one hand. I tried to cup some water, and when I felt a little pool in my palm, I trickled it into her mouth.
My heart sunk when she didn't respond.
When the rush had subsided, the amber-haired man approached me, his raw eyes brighter. He swallowed and looked me over once, then turned and looked over his shoulder where the adults seemed enough in control of themselves to allow the children to drink. He looked back at me.
"It's true." He said, voice stronger than when he first spoke. "The river has been restored.  This curse has been lifted."
I nodded my head, my gaze shy. "Yes."
"What's happened to your friend?"
"I...I don't know. The guardian said she should wake up. But I don't know when."
The man nodded. He turned and called out a girl's name. A young maiden with a square face and long mousy hair stepped forward. Her eyes shone as the man's did.
He looked back at me. "My name is Den. I was left in charge when Sedwick left. This is my daughter, Opal. She'll take you to a room where you and your friend can stay undisturbed." Den leaned down and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Thank you."
"I didn't do much," I mumbled. "Elmiryn was the one who risked everything."
The man gestured toward the bucket. "I wouldn't say that." He nodded at Opal and walked away.
The girl, dressed in a long robin blue dress that covered everything from her arms to her neck, bowed low. I tensed and made a clumsy effort to stand. "No! Don't do that, I'm not worth bowing to."
Opal looked at me, startled, then straightened. She cleared her throat and made a sign for me to follow her. I did, and we entered the inn. The peasants now grabbed glasses from the bar, and I knew they were going to take some of the water to the sick upstairs.
As we made our way up the staircase, Opal slowed a little and looked at me nervously. "...Is Baldwin okay?"
At the question, I closed my eyes and bowed my head.
Her face paled a little and she seemed to pinch her mouth together. She walked faster, then, and stopped at a door halfway down the hall. "This room's our smallest, but no one's staying in it. I'll clear out some of the supplies we've left there so you can have more room."
I shook my head. "No, really that's fine, you don't have to–"
"Please," she said as she opened the door. Her eyes were a little misty when she looked at me.
I shuffled through the doorway and mumbled my thanks. The bed was in the far right corner. Eager to free my arms, I laid Elmiryn down onto the plain blankets. When I straightened again, I could feel the blood rush through my biceps and forearms. My fingers tingled and I felt like a leaf whose only anchor to the Earth had been lost. I tumbled into the nearest chair and put my head in my hands with a shaky sigh.
A hand on my back made me look up.
"Do you need anything?" Opal asked.
I glanced at Elmiryn, then down at my clothes. I fingered the bloodied hole where Sedwick's spear had plunged into my chest.  The memory made me shiver.
"Some new clothes would be nice..." I said in a low voice.

____________________________

Later, I found myself in a linen tunic with jute twine tied around my waist. Black breeches stopped just past my knees, where the rest of my legs were covered by the white hosen I wore underneath. Originally, I had been offered a dress, but politely refused. I had gotten too used to the attire of men, and where I came from, only women of power could afford the luxury of dresses.
Opal noticed my boots and without my asking, brought me new ones. Slim, charcoal suede with laces. At first I protested, but the girl was persistent. She took my left boot and pulled at the hole with her fingers. "The sole's have been worn thin–and look! It's separating! I can't let you leave with this pair, I just can't. Please, don't trouble yourself. The owner is more than happy to let you take these."
Resigned, I did.
The girl also brought the rest of our belongings into the room, after clearing it of the small crates, oil bottles, and bolts of tarp. When her tasks were done, a man who identified himself as a healer entered our room, accompanied with Den. He checked Elmiryn's pulse, her breathing, and took a look at her eyes–even pulled back her lips to inspect her gums. After all this, he sat back, stared at her for a moment, then pinched her arm, hard.
I made to stop him, a flash of indignation flowing through me, but then I realized what he was doing.  He was trying to get a reaction.  He then pulled out a small vial from his side pouch and uncorked it. He waved it slowly beneath Elmiryn's nose before he pursed his lips and sighed. "She isn't responding. But as far as I can see, it's like she's just asleep. Most of my supplies have been used up, and I don't have all of my tools with me. I'm afraid I can't do anything right now, but I'll check on her tomorrow."
Den and I nodded after we glanced at each other. "Thank you, sir."
The hours slipped late into the night. Outside, I could hear celebrations. Word was that messengers had already been sent to the neighboring cities to spread the good news. I remained in the little bedroom, refusing the offer to join in the merrymaking.  They wanted me to share my tale of the cave.  I balked at the idea.
Instead, I remained seated in the leather bound chair next to Elmiryn, compelled by some sense of duty. I had a bucket of soapy water and a brush with me, which I used to scrub the blood from my gambeson. Most of it came off, but some of the stains wouldn't wash out completely. With a sigh, I let it dry out on the windowsill.
I stared out the window to the city. Gamath was a collection of looming shadows. I tried to imagine it filled with people, with noise and ruckus and lights. The image was hard to form. All I could imagine were dark streets tainted by a wandering madness. My gaze shifted and my eyes fell on Elmiryn's face.
I reached a hand to her, and brushed my thumb along her forehead.  She lay quiet as death.
Exhaustion claimed me. I fell asleep, curled in the chair and fought against the feelings of guilt that came riding on the laughter of the townsfolk.

____________________________

That following morning, I bathed, ate, and spent the remainder of the day reading. The healer returned to check Elmiryn, but again said there was nothing he could do. I fell asleep in the same chair as the night before last. The next day, it was the same thing, except that some of the peasant children came to sit with me. There were six of them, mostly boys beneath the age of ten I assumed. Opal offered to shoo them out, but I shook my head, asking only that I not be left alone with them.
They asked me about what happened with the guardian, but I mumbled my unwillingness to talk about that just yet. Opal redirected their attention by asking what my book was about, and before I knew it, I was reading Tobias' story aloud.
"Wind, mighty wind, with lungs filled with laughter, blew back his enemies and nary lost a breath.  Arrows shot at him were lost in a sensuous dance of current and power, where their steel-eyed anger were turned to fly twice as fast toward their owners.  The pirates cowered on the deck, and many perished beneath the heavy hail of death.  Mariatu, leader of the spiteful men, barked a command to his lessers.  His voice was lost in the vigor that was Wind's incredible howl.
An arrow struck across Mariatu's face and he fell, bloody and downed by his own bravado.
It was at that time that the Oleus Lamar, the dread ship of the Southern Seas, overturned with Wind's powerful suggestion.
Njord, god of wind and father to the seafaring life, whistled with pleasure at his Champion's deed.  Atargatis, goddess of the ocean and mother to the seafaring life, swirled with displeasure–"
"Why would she be mad?" a boy asked loudly.
I looked at him blankly, only to find my expression mirrored by all those in the room.  "What–?"
"Atargatis.  Why is she mad?  The pirates were bad, right?"
My eyes fluttered.  "Um.  ...Well, she's described as the 'mother of the seafaring life'.  I think her love for sailors was indiscriminate."
"Indy-what?"
"I mean she didn't care.  As a mother, she loved her children, good or bad.  Njord didn't share that feeling.  That was why he sent Wind to–"
"What's Wind's real name?"
Disgruntled by the new interruption, I tried to keep my displeasure from my voice.  "He is only called Wind.  They don't call him by anything else–"
"But Wind isn't a real name." I was surprised to find this one came from Opal.  I think something in my look gave me away, as her expression turned thoroughly embarrassed.
"I didn't write the book!  I just–"
"Maybe if you leave the funny words out, we can understand it better," A bucktoothed boy offered snottily.
My lips thinned.
I looked back at the book and pretended to read loudly.  "Rocks fall.  Everyone dies."  I snapped the book shut.  "Sorry, that's the end."
The boys gazed at me, taken aback.  "But they were out to sea!  How could–!?"
"I guess the writer ran out of big words." I offered dryly.
That was when Elmiryn moved.
An odd moan, held in by her tensed jaw dispelled the idea that it had just been a twitch of her arm. I inhaled sharply and rose to my feet, my hand quick to find place at the woman's forehead. She burned under my touch, and seemed to writhe in her sheets as if suffering by some horrid dream. I looked to Opal and she gave a cursory nod of the head before she proceeded to shoo the children from the room. As the last of them went, I held Elmiryn by the shoulders and gave her a small shake.
"Elmiryn...Elmiryn!  Wake up!"

ELMIRYN________________________
What a mess, what a hurricane, what a muddy pit of a mind.  She couldn't tell ass from elbow, and she tried so hard to.  What at one point seemed a nose, turned out to be a knee; and what at one point seemed a foot, turned out to be her mouth.  She got her name mixed up too, in a jumble of fonts that were and weren't there, which tumbled and swirled by image and sound in a black backdrop that seemed as infinite as her frustration.  Seeing and not seeing.  Feeling and not feeling.  Being and not being...
She was completely and utterly lost.
At first, she believed in embers and the cry of steel beneath a hammer, but then she felt cold instead of heat, and tasted blood instead of sweat.  At first she believed she were a man (ah, what a luxury it is to piss upright!) but that came under reasonable doubt when her concept of a body was lost to a memory of amorphous flesh that swam through liquid.  Beneath these obnoxious collections of understandings, she recognized something pale and stale buried beneath it all.  Ideas to do with royalty and war.  Soiled innocence and malignant horror.
But those weak things were set aside.  Surely, the truth of who she was and what she was about rested in the strongest memories?
And the most intriguing of them all came together in tentative lines that streaked her vision.
...Cold...
Her heart adopted a need for haste.  She jogged and felt her feet sink into the ground with each step.  Her sight was hampered by the curtain of white that surrounded her.  But through the haze, a phantom danced, not far ahead.  She was afraid she'd lose it.  She shouted hoarsely through the screeching wind.
"Atalo!  Reten na och!" Atalo! Wait for me!
Without the slightest warning, something stabbed into her back, something that managed to tear through the layers of her winter clothes.  A thick arm wrapped around her neck and she heard a man mutter a prayer before he gripped her by the shoulder and flung her into the snowbank.  She crashed onto hard packed ice.  Her breath rushed past her lips, and for a moment she couldn't breathe in.
As she lay there and watched the tips of aspen trees dance as ghosts, she thought she saw the black stains of confusion that had plagued her seep into the fabric of reality.  In these stains, she saw that terrible place where she had lost herself.  Things squeaked through the little hole in her memory; names, songs, people who weren't people but just crudely sketched caricatures of another time and place.  She pressed her eyes shut to block it out.
When she opened them again, she saw through the storm's veil, and peered up to see a warrior dressed in white furs stare down at her imperiously.  He carried a small blade with him, stained with her blood.  An Ailuran Cerrite, a hunter of criminals.  She thought she recognized that face beneath the cowl's shadow.
...Duncan?  Her peer?  Her...comrade?  She tried to tap into her memory, because something of that didn't sound right, but discovered an unnerving void.
That was when Atalo screamed and attacked Duncan.  He came charging from the side, wielding a sharp rock as a makeshift weapon, but the Cerrite was fast.  He deftly leaned to the side and dodged her brother's wild swipe before he grabbed the youth by the front of his clothes and pulled him roughly to the ground.
But she was already up on her feet, already half-crawling out of the snowbank when the Cerrite raised his blade for a killing strike. She was only partially aware of the fact that her veins burned, or that her head pounded.  Her first concern was in saving her brother from his own foolhardiness.
With little grace, she lunged at Duncan's broad back, and her petite hands wrapped themselves around the Ailuran's large hand.  She tried vainly to pry the warrior's fingers from his weapon.  The man gave a low rumble and threw back his head, where it connected with her nose.  Blood poured forth and she fell to the snow, dazed and with a ringing in her ears she didn't notice before.
There was a shout, and a series of muffled slaps that ended in a wet crunch.  She heard Atalo groan.  Soon, her white world was blessed with the image of her little brother.  His broad face was turned pink and his tawny eyes squinted from his exertion.  He knelt by her and cupped her face.
"Koah..." Sister... "Koah!"
"Koen," Brother, "Cajeck...ni aji...üle boeneh?" Idiot...what were...you thinking?
"Cerrite magat...eh?  Koah, ni dana?" But the Cerrite...eh?  Sister, what's wrong?
Her eyes had rolled shut.  She took deep breaths and felt the cold air rasp down her dry throat.  Her lungs felt starved.  Pain stabbed down her arms, and she thought her veins would tear open.  Atalo took her by the shoulders and shook her, his young voice turned shrill with fear.
"Koah!  Koah! ...Elmiryn!!"
Who?
"Elmiryn wake up!"
That was her voice saying those things, but her lips weren't moving...and she didn't think to say that either.  What was going on?
The pain faded, as did the cold.  The wind's howl petered out to a whisper that tickled the back of her mind.  She felt hands shake her, and tried to open her eyes.  All she saw was blurry.  Streaks of color.  Like a bad painting.  There was a figure hovering over her.  She couldn't see their face.
"Atalo?" she rasped–but the voice she heard, she didn't recognize.
The shaking stopped.  She thought she heard a sharp intake of breath.
"...What did you say?"  There.  Again.  Someone used her voice.  The person near her, maybe?
Her sight sharpened, and she saw a sky fitted with cobwebs and a boy that looked much like a girl.  Tawny eyes blinked at her.  Was it...him?
"Elmiryn?"
She reached a hand upward and took a lock of dark hair between her fingers.  She half-expected the strands to smudge and smear on her fingers, like charcoal. Üle okém ia-gouta, koen. "Your hair's long, brother..." She heard a raspy voice that wasn't hers speak the words she thought of in a different language.  She grabbed her throat harshly, felt her throat hum as she spoke, "What is this...?  Where am I?"  She fought to push herself up.  The world rolled, and she felt nausea curl in her chest like a demon waiting to spring.  "Atalo!" she shouted.
The other person, not her brother, she knew this now, pressed her back at the shoulders.  "Elmiryn, stop–"
The grip on her tightened.  Her mind whispered that this was reminiscent of something.  From the dark of uncertain memories, she recalled a man's faint outline.  His face was nondescript, but his armor, she recognized.  Recognized it because she had worn the same armor.  This man had hovered over her, had pressed down on her.  Peer.  Comrade.  A name tickled her lips.
"Duncan."
His exact relationship to her she couldn't recall, but she remembered that he had tried this before.  To sneak into her quarters at night when she was asleep.  She didn't think he'd actually do it again, after the last time, but this fact hardly mattered.  He was here now, the brute, and he was keeping her from her brother.
She twisted and leaned her right shoulder far back, so that Duncan's hand slipped at the abrupt shift in weight.  She closed her grip around his wrist and, with a staying hand on his shoulder, turned it and twisted it backwards.  She put as much pressure as she could muster on the joint, and used the leverage she exacted to sit upright.  The man squealed.
But did Duncan ever squeal?  Come to think of it, he seemed a little short, didn't he?  Where were the white furs?  The armor?  And there was still that bothersome detail about the voice...
"El-Elmiryn!" Her captive cried.  Their face was screwed up.  Was that anger?  Fear?  "Atalo is dead! He was my brother!  Those memories in your head aren't yours! They're mine!"
She tensed.  "No, that's imposs–"
"Atalo and I were fleeing from the Cerrite for criminal evasion!  They wanted to send him to war, but I took him and fled!"  Large eyes, tawny eyes.  They bored into hers.  Tears shone, unshed.  "Magat, tet koen lunam!!"
She let go.  Stared.  Strained her eyes to make sense of the moving picture in front of her.  A person.  An Ailuran.  A girl, not a boy–yes of course, why was that ever in question before?  The fair lips, the long lashes, the gentle jaw line.  The hair, complexion, and eyes were the same as Atalo's...but it wasn't him...of course not...it was...
"Nyx." Elmiryn leaned forward unsteadily.  She reached out a hand, perhaps too eagerly, because Nyx flinched away.  The redhead didn't let this action stop her, though she took note of it (frowned at it), and let her hand swipe gently through the air before the girl's face.  There was something two-dimensional about the Ailuran, and Elmiryn was half afraid that the room only extended as far as her arm–that the walls were an elaborate illusion someone had created to confuse her.
"I didn't know...you...I mean..."  She squinted.  "You looked like him.  Then I thought you were–"
"Duncan." Nyx finished.  Her voice was clipped when she said it, but the tension that had gripped her seemed to lessen a little.  "I know who you're talking about.  He was in the Fiamman army with you."
Elmiryn shifted in the bed.  Her eyes fluttered as she felt the room give a nasty lurch.  The colors smudged.  The walls seemed unstable.  She covered her face with her hands and groaned.  "...What happened?  Where am I?"  She pulled her hands away from her face to stare at them.  They seemed a little large didn't they?  Or was the bed too big?  No, no, the blankets were too thick.  They were going to crush her legs.  Elmiryn kicked away the sheets and hugged her knees to her chest.
She felt so small.
"We're at the tavern." Nyx explained. "You've been unconscious almost three days."  There was a pause, and the girl added in a mumble.  "I waited for you to wake up."
The woman closed her eyes.
"...You might have to wait a little longer."

ELMIRYN________________________
Elmiryn's hands still tingled with the feeling of her companion's throat in her hands, the pulse against her thumb, the light sheen of sweat that had made her palms cool when the air kissed it. Involuntarily, she imagined how the throat would hum under her hand if the girl could speak without impediment. Maybe it was indeed possible to catch sound by hand? To possess that voice and keep it as a pet, when the nights got cold and the hours long...it was such an enticing idea. Once it was in her possession, she could use it when she didn't feel like being herself.
Then moral sensibilities, stunted, but still present, objected.
Nyx had carried her unconscious body more than a mile, and had remained at her side when she was comatose–what kind of repayment was strangulation?
But those memories...those precious, vivid memories. They were so real to Elmiryn, more so than the world she drifted through now. In them, she had felt connection; in them, she had a voice that carried sincerity.
At seeing that these things were no longer hers to have, she had hollered for wine, and drank half-a-bottle's worth with little pause. Then she vomited it all up, because the thought entered her mind that the wine was all blood. She had tried to stand, and lost her balance. Nyx tried to keep her in bed but Elmiryn became agitated, wild-eyed, and asked why the covers were so dangerously heavy.
That first day, she refused to lay in the bed. Instead, she sat in the corner, on the floor, and alternated between drinking rum and water. Food was repulsive to her. She thought the steak they gave her had pulsed in her mouth, and the rice felt like ants on her tongue.
All the while her heart beat heavy in her chest, and whispered Atalo's name. Elmiryn wondered if she were drinking to make the feeling buoyant and easy to grasp, or to drown it in poison. But the moments were already slipping from her–fading in that harrowing fashion her own memories had. She wanted them back. She wanted the realness, the emotion, the intensity back. Even if it made her like this–vulnerable, flustered, weak–Elmiryn wanted them back.
But those things weren't hers, they were Nyx's.
She tried to ignore the envy that burned her.
Then came an irresistible opportunity.
"Elle, you aren't well enough for something this dangerous!" Nyx exclaimed.
Elmiryn faced the windows and fixated on the light from the candles reflected on the glass.  It was so early in the morning, the sun hadn't risen yet.  Still, she could see campfires and torches winking in the distance.  People were returning. She fitted her shoulder guards and let a crooked smile appear on her face. "So you think," she breathed.
"I don't think, I know!" Nyx argued. Her voice was strained. She sounded on the verge of tears. "For heaven's sake, look at you! You keep squinting like you can hardly make out what you're seeing!" The redhead turned and made to leave.  She plucked up her bow and quiver as she went. Nyx blocked the doorway. She trembled, but still glared up at Elmiryn. Big, sweet eyes. Watery eyes. Drowning eyes. "Watch it, or you'll go blind," the warrior warned.
Nyx swallowed and asked in a whisper, "It's gotten worse, hasn't it?"
Elmiryn giggled a little. She moved her companion to the side with a light shove. "But Nyx. I thought you knew. Why do you have to ask me?"
The girl huffed–chased her down the stairs and babbled about irresponsibility and stubbornness. It was so odd, how Elmiryn's entire world had become an elaborate presentation of untruths, while this one girl and her one voice still sung vibrant and clear.
When it was apparent that the warrior would not change her plans, Nyx sighed and said, "Oh sweet Aelurus...fine then! We'll go–"
"No." The bounce and jump of Elmiryn's voice was absent. All that was left was steel. She looked Nyx in the eye and felt something gnaw at her. "You aren't coming with me."
The girl stared. "But...what if something happens to you? Didn't you ask me to–"
"I know what I asked. Just...do me a favor, Nyx. Stay here. Rest. I'll be back soon."

____________________________

She shifted her weight and heard the squeal of pebbles beneath the soles of her boots. Her eyes were pinned on her target–every twitch of the nose, every shift of its mangy fur, every wiggle of its stubby tail. A big man in furs. Elmiryn's body tensed.
She wasn't the one hunting. She was being hunted. Sought by an extension of heavenly retribution who was going to dig into her chest with a knife, straight to that glowing knot inside her–
Someone touched a cold hand to Elmiryn's arm. She glanced at him sharply, her face tense and her eyes wide–because something told her things were not right, and yet her eyes failed to display otherwise. Crouched next to her beneath the eave of a building was a gargoyle. He looked at her with dark eyes that did not shine. The frown beneath the brim of his hat was severe and colored a cool slate gray from the morning twilight. Behind him, shadows shifted like ink disturbed.
"Is there something wrong?" it breathed.
Elmiryn shook her head. She asked, "What're we looking at?"
The gargoyle's frown deepened. The shadows moved again. "It's a bear. Are you going to shoot it or not?"
She nodded and returned her attention to the creature before her. Her muscles eased and she let out a small sigh. That was right. That was the reason she was here.
In her head, Elmiryn began to sort it all out.
The bear must have ambled in from the forests to the west, where the Medwin River swathed through its territory. Madness had drawn it to the desolation.  A supernatural weight that lessened its grip on the land, now that the river had been restored. But the crazed creatures, the ones who survived the poisoned waters, still remained. They attacked anything that came near them and were too numerous to simply chase away.
Elmiryn had joined one of the hunting parties. The man next to her was not a gargoyle, he was just ugly; and the shadows behind him were the rest of hunting party, who had hung back to allow Elmiryn the first shot with her bow.
The warrior, in a veiled, backwards way, began to believe that Nyx had been right in protesting her participation in the hunts.
There she was, crouched and with her bow and arrow poised for a shot at a bear she had thought was a man. The group had moved as quietly as it could, and had stuck together as they avoided the open streets. The buildings they passed seemed to Elmiryn inhospitable and alien to sentient creation. They were encased in evil, lonely auras, that made her think of derelict caves and foreboding forests.
The bear had been an unpleasant surprise, but to their advantage, it was disoriented. On its great paws, it swayed side to side. It grumbled and panted as foam dripped from its dark lips, and it shifted now and again to wander in a confused line to another spot out in the street.
Elmiryn pulled her arrow far back, let the heel of her palm rest against her right jaw and tried to get her bearings.  She judged the bear was 600 yards away, and the wind was blowing strong in a westerly direction.  All she need was the bear to move in the right position for a fatal shot.
She waited.
...And waited.
Without warning, the arrow jumped from her fingers and sailed low, where it landed with an obnoxious clatter near the bear's feet.  The large beast turned and growled.  She wasn't sure, but it seemed like it's eyes were fixed on them.  Elmiryn blinked and stared at her hand as if it betrayed her.  "I thought I had a better grip!" she mumbled.
When the beast, a roiling mass of 500 pound black fur, began to gallomph toward them, everyone turned to flee.  "Forget it, Elmiryn!" The gargoyle man sputtered as he stumbled into a run down the street with the others.  "We have to run!"
Elmiryn's eyes widened and she made to grab him.  "No, no!  You idiots!  It didn't know where we were!"
She watched them go, their limbs nearly blurred in their haste to get away.  She turned and crouched down, still as rock, and watched as the bear ran past her.  Its focus had shifted, and its pace had quickened.  The animal growled and panted heavily as it closed the gap between it and the hunters.
Safe from harm, the woman readied another bow.  With little time to aim or calculate wind interference, she let it loose, this time with more force than the last.  The arrow whistled away, just as the bear stood on its hindquarters to swipe at a hunter who had tripped on the ground.  With a thud, it landed near the center of the beast's back.  The bear flinched and let out a brief sound of shock before it stumbled and fell over.  The hunter narrowly managed to dodge it.  Already set with another arrow, Elmiryn fired again, this time the projectile struck the beast in the side.
Encouraged by the new development, the other hunters attacked as well.  The ones with bows fired arrows at close range, while those armed with swords and spears stabbed at the downed bear.  Elmiryn approached them as the bear let out its dying cry.  "That was sloppy," she groused.
"Well if you hadn't have missed the first shot..." one hunter muttered.
Elmiryn squinted at her right hand.  "I really did think I had a solid grip."  She sighed and shook her head, and let her hand drop to her side.  "That aside...I think a bear is good enough for one day.  You men figure out a way to take the corpse to the burning pits, and I'll meet you back at the Inn."
"What are you going to do?" gargoyle man asked.
The warrior smiled crookedly as she passed him.  "I'm going to take my head out of my ass."

NYX____________________________
Nighttime.  I stared at Tobias's book, but didn't read.  Couldn't.  Elmiryn was out, stumbling like a confused puppet on some warped sense, and I wasn't there to make sure she was okay.  My stomach knotted itself as I thought about terrible scenarios.  How awful would it be to have the woman die after what she had just survived...after what we BOTH had just survived?  I scratched absently at my skin, and a shiver ran through me as I recalled the unnatural separation of flesh from the river guardian.
Tired of the upstairs room, I had come down to the owner's quarters where I enjoyed the warmth of a newborn fire.  It winked at me from the fireplace.
Then there was a knock on the doorway, and I turned in my chair to see Elmiryn across the room.  Her smile quirked and her eyes turned questionable when her gaze lowered to the bed between us.  Gullible, I followed her line of sight before it occurred to me just what it was she was thinking.
I made an irritated noise with my tongue and pretended to continue reading my book.  "You're incorrigible."
"But the bed's bigger," she said.  Her boots made a sharp sound as she crossed the floor.  There was the scrape of wood on wood as she slid a chair over to sit next to me.  "I mean, that other room is stuffy, and more people are coming back to Gamath.  Maybe we could stay in here for a while?  I don't think the townspeople would mind us sharing–"
I buried my face in my hands to hide my blush.  "Merciful gods, make this woman stop!"
She chuckled in response and her chair squeaked as she leaned far back in her chair.  "Guess the turnip isn't ready to be plucked."
"Why do you call me that?" I asked in a weary voice.  I chanced a look at her past my hands, and she winked at me cheekily.
"I think it's the shape of your face.  And the dust that sits in your hair.  It makes me think of turnips."
"That...isn't flattering.  At all."
"Why haven't you asked someone here to cut your hair?"
"Opal offered, but her eagerness put me off."
"She was eager because your haircut is–"
"Atrocious.  Yes, I know."  I sat back in my chair again, and tossed Tobias's book onto the bed.  There was no use pretending anymore.
"Did you really cut it with shears?"
I gave the slightest of nods. "Without a mirror."
"Your hair used to be longer." Elmiryn said.  Her voice was too subdued for my liking, so I decided to change the topic.
"The guardian wants us to return.  We should probably do so tomorrow.  The townsfolk can take care of the rest of the clean up."  I stood to my feet, but didn't move.  Without a place for my eyes, I found myself staring into the fire.
Elmiryn looked up at me. "Thank you," she said.
I gave her a puzzled look.  I felt vulnerable so I crossed my arms over my chest. "For what?" I asked.
"For carrying me here. For watching over me." She crossed her legs and looked down at her hands.  I only noticed now that they weren't in their usual gloves.  She had also removed her shoulder guards.  I saw the scar in her palm and turned away. "I just realized," she continued.  "I haven't thanked you for all that you've done yet. So, thanks."
"I don't know how many more times I can say it.  I hardly did anything.  In a way, I was a liability."
Rather than argue with me, like just about every other person I spoke to had attempted, Elmiryn only shrugged and made a flippant gesture with her hand.  "Okay." she said.
I turned and frowned at her.  A question I had been burning to ask bubbled into my mouth, and I couldn't restrain it.  "Do you know how long we'll be on this mission of yours for?"
Elmiryn shrugged again. "I don't know."  Her eyes rolled to look up at me, but her head didn't lift.
"Elle..." the name slipped from my lips without my meaning it to.  I paused as my throat began to constrict.  "If things once again become as dire as they had in the guardian's cave, can we hope to beat it reasonably?  Together?  Or will my role be only to pick up the pieces?"
Elmiryn sucked at her teeth.  She let her head fall back and stared at the ceiling. "It depends on how much you're willing to take.  Maybe your role really will be just to pick up the pieces."  She turned her face toward me, and a lazy smile appeared. "Wouldn't it be fun to put me back together again?  I'd be like a puzzle that has more than one answer." She giggled, and slapped a hand to her face.
My gaze darkened.  "You had something to drink?"
She pinched her index and thumb together and looked at me sideways.  "Just a splash.  I can't stand that wine, and their rum is terrible."
I shook my head and turned to face Elmiryn fully.  When I opened my mouth to speak, I faltered a little.  "I–I can't say I'm wholly interested in seeing someone destroy themselves little by little."
Elmiryn quirked an eyebrow, and her smile faded a little.  "But if you're there, maybe that won't happen?"
"Elmiryn I..." my voice cracked.  I gripped my head, then pressed my fingers into my eyes.  The tips turned damp.  "You frustrate me, you confuse me...sometimes you even scare me." I sniffled.  I didn't want to make a scene by crying.  I knelt down on the floor, as I remembered etiquette.  As one of such low class, even to a flagged criminal as Elmiryn, some deference was due.  It made me uncomfortable how easily I had forgotten that in her presence over the last week.  I looked at her hands, now clenched loosely in her lap.
"Despite all that, I can't deny that you've saved my life, ended my hunger...and took away my loneliness."  I paused to wipe at my eyes.  "I'm a timorous whelp and my problems are far from superficial.  I've...I've been in situations like this before and I don't know if I can stand–"
"I'm not Atalo, Nyx."
I flinched and bowed my head. "I didn't say you were!" My voice quailed.  I could feel my eyes burn, but I squeezed them shut to stop any tears from coming.  "I was going to say I'm not strong enough to see my friend get hurt over something so hopeless!"
"Your what?"  Elmiryn leaned toward me.  Her eyebrows were raised high.  "I think I may have heard wrong."
I peered at her and mumbled sullenly.  "I consider you a friend.  Am I being presumptuous?" At her pause, I ruffled my hair in frustration.  "I mean, am I assuming too much?"
She shook her head and sat on the floor with me.  "No.  Not really.  I just think you hold too much of yourself back...and by the way, why are you on the floor?"
I gave her an exasperated look. "Better question...why are you joining me?"  Then I added to myself, "And why am I talking to you like you're my–"
"Equal?  Because if I wanted a lackey, I would've bought one."  Elmiryn thumped me on the shoulder and grinned.  Her teeth flashed from the light of the fire.  "Instead, I saved a friend."
"This is...endearing..." I rubbed my neck and made a point of looking at the ground.  "Believe me it is, but there's still the matter of this...'quest' of yours.  And I have other concerns."
"Ouch." Elmiryn tsked and leaned back against the chair, where she propped her elbows onto the cushion.  "You know it's something serious when someone uses the word, 'concern'."
I sat back as my knees began to ache from kneeling on the floorboards.  I heaved a sigh and blew my bangs out of my eyes.  "You know...when the guardian swallowed all of us...our memories were shared." I stiffened a little and tried to continue in a steady voice.  "I know you must've seen things...as I have seen things.  Elmiryn...I know why the Fiamman kingdom wants you captured.  I know you used to be one of them.  That, the song you hummed that night...to that girl caused her to..."
"Cailean."
I looked at her startled.
Elmiryn's eyes had shifted to the fire, where their gaze had turned glassy.  Her face was slack and her body rested in an unusual fashion that made me think of a puppet propped onto a shelf.  She had one leg bent, the other tucked beneath.  Her hands were relaxed.  Her hair, normally pulled back and out of the way, was loose and came down in lazy waves around her shoulders.
"The princess's name is Cailean, and she may as well be dead."  Elmiryn squinted her eyes a little and whispered, "She had slime all over her skin.  I remember how it felt. It was thick.  Sticky.  Cold.  Made my skin feel like it was on pins and needles, like when your foot falls asleep.  I think that's what woke me up.  I tried shifting and then that sensation hit me; on the side of my face, my chest, my thighs.  Every place the slime touched me seemed to fuck with my nerves.
"It was so early, the maids hadn't come in yet to prepare Cailean for the day.  I remember trying to get up, and feeling like the world was backwards.  I thought the floor was going to give, so I jumped out of the nearest window.  I crashed onto the roof of the medici building and tumbled into the courtyard.  Some lady servants saw me and screamed.  I didn't think they were screaming because of me."  Elmiryn chuckled and covered her face with her hand.
When she continued, her humor was still present, like she were just telling a funny anecdote and recovering from a hearty laugh.  "I ran to my barracks, dressed, grabbed what I could, and fled.  It was the weird looks I got from everyone I passed that made me slow down.  I tried to get it straight in my head what was really happening.  Common sense kicked in, and I realized how nothing made sense."
She stopped and ran a hand through her hair with a sigh.  I shifted where I sat, and fiddled with the twine around my waist before I asked in a quiet voice, "Then what did you do?"
I could see a muscle in Elmiryn's cheek move and she swiped at her nose with a rough pass of her arm.  "Y'know, this is hard for me to get right.  I mean, all I can see in my head are these faint impressions...like ghosts, in my head.  I'm certain of some details, but others I'm not so sure."  She rubbed her temples and frowned.  The crease in her brow appeared.  I thought back to that day I had tried to smooth it out, when Elmiryn feared I had died.  With a blush, I sat on my hands.
"I went to my mother," Elmiryn mumbled.  Her eyes fell shut and her frown deepened.  "She told me she had just come back from the royal court, and that the king had ordered for my capture.  She said they accused me of casting a curse on the princess."  A corner of her mouth turned upward.  "She was in hysterics.  She asked me if it was all true, and I think I might've started laughing.  That was when my father came in.  He threatened to turn me in himself, but I ran.  I would have fought him but..."  Her smirk grew, "I didn't want to upset mother."
"How did you escape?  With all of the kingdom after you, how did you possibly get away?"
Elmiryn shrugged.  "Some of my comrades found me first.  They didn't believe any of it, so they helped me flee."
I bit my lip.  "...And Meznik?"
The woman looked in my direction, but her eyes seemed to pass through me.  "That night, when it all started, I had a dream.  A man whose voice I'd never heard before asked me if I could see his face.  Everything was black.  When I said I couldn't, he laughed and told me I wasn't looking hard enough.  Then he told me his name...Meznik...and said I would have to run.  That was when I woke up."
"How did you figure out you were cursed if Meznik didn't tell you?"
Elmiryn looked away.  She seemed to fight yet another smile.  "Two days after I managed to escape Fiamma, I noticed something was wrong with my eyes.  It was little things at first.  I'd look at a bush and think it was rustling when it wasn't.  I'd see my reflection and think there was something on my nose only to realize it was just shiny.  Then bigger things.  I started waking up feeling like nothing I did affected my surroundings.  I wondered if I really left footprints, or if they belonged to someone else.  Sometimes it even seemed like the birds weren't startled when I went by.  Then I thought about Cailean, my mother, my father...and I realized I couldn't remember what they looked like.  I knew who they were, and that they existed...but..."
I shook my head.  "I really don't understand.  From what I'd seen of your memories, nothing you'd done would have warranted this...granted, you aren't the most pious of individuals, but there are far worse out there."  The words left my mouth and my mind didn't bother to censor them.  When it occurred to me what I had just said, my body seized up and I made to stand.  "Elle, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that–!!"
Elmiryn surprised me when she grabbed me by the arm.  "Sure you did.  Just stop."
The severity of her voice made me shake.  I sat back down but pulled in an attempt to escape her tight grip.  "Elmiryn, let go!"
Her eyes had sharpened, like sight had come back to her.  She fixed me with the hungry look I had become familiar with.  "Till now we've both avoided talking about what happened in our pasts.  I told you about what happened to me.  Now I think I should hear about what happened to you."
The emotions I had tried to keep in check since the day had started began to spill over.  I sobbed and shook my head frantically, "Elle, please!  We can talk about it later, I don't know if I can do this right now!"
"No." Her tone was flat.  "I don't know what it was like for you to feel my memories, but yours nearly tore my heart out of my chest.  I have to know Nyx.  What happened to Atalo?"  Her brows pressed together, and she let go of my arm.  "...And why did you get the Mark?  From what I saw, the punishment doesn't fit the crime."
I hugged my head and rocked back and forth where I sat.  My chest felt tight and my skin felt cold.  "I can't..."
I felt her hands on my back.  She leaned down and nuzzled my hair. "Please tell me," she whispered.
I raised my head, my cheeks damp and my nose running.  Elmiryn was close enough that I could feel her breath on my skin.  There was that light smell of rum about her.  Her eyes were fixed on to mine, and something about them compelled me to speak.
With a swallow I started.  "Atalo and I fled, but the Cerrite, a criminal hunter, found us.  We defeated him, but I'd been stabbed with his blade and passed out.  Atalo dragged me to an abandoned shack a mile up the trail we followed.  It was used as an outpost, and he managed to find some supplies."  I turned my face away, toward the fire.  The heat felt glorious on my skin.  In a dry whisper I continued.  "As it turned out, the Cerrite's blade was poisoned, so my wound wasn't healing.  I was caught in a fever.  Atalo tried to treat me, but the medicines he had were too mundane to handle the special poison that ran through me.  Time was running out, and soon the rest of the hunters would find us.  But not before...not before..."
My mouth, as if in rebellion, ceased to move.  Nearly a minute went by before Elmiryn grabbed me by the shoulders and gave me a harsh shake.  "Nyx, what happened?"
I looked at her, my face slack.  I imagined her angry, disgusted, horrified.  I realized this would be the first time I would say any of this aloud, to anyone, and I feared the truth would cause the one friend I had in the world to turn away from me.  My tears returned with a vengeance and my body trembled.  "I'm weak." I sobbed with a slow shake of the head.  "Elmiryn.  I'm just too weak!"
"But what happened, Nyx!?"
I flinched at the steely tone of her voice.  In a mousy voice, I continued to speak.  "E-Ever since I was young, I had t-t-trouble dealing with my Other Self.  They said it was–was because I read too much outside literature.  Because I questioned our ways too much.  They always t-talked of our primal sides being one-half of a whole.  But I never saw it that way, n-not even when I was young.  I grew up at odds with Her and she stopped listening to me.  Because I never learned to control Her...She...She..." I hugged my head.  "She killed him!  She killed Atalo!"
Elmiryn grabbed me by the chin and forced me to look up at her.  Her eyes were wide.  "What do you mean?"
I shut my eyes and two fat tears rolled down my cheeks.  "In my feverish state...I...I lost control.  I shifted to Ekilluos, the form taken during war.  It was the first time I ever did.  Atalo...he was just a boy...he didn't...couldn't defend himself.  As therians, we can only take so much before our healing powers mean nothing.  She killed him, and it's my fault because I was too weak to stop Her."
Elmiryn let me go, and I crumpled.  A long silence sat between us, interrupted only by my occasional sobs.
When my tears had subsided, I found myself continuing to speak.  I started to feel detached, like the pain I felt was too much, so my heart began to shut down.  "When the hunters came, they found me sitting with what was left of Atalo.  I was half-dead and mad with grief.  I kept scratching at myself...drawing blood.  I wanted to crawl out of my skin.  I didn't just want to die, I wanted to cease to exist."  I heard Elmiryn shift but didn't look up to see what she did.  I assumed she moved away from me.  I was certain of her disgust.
"Instead of killing me," I rasped, "They took me prisoner and brought me back to my village.  They publicly charged me with treason, fratricide, and perverting Aelurus' gifts.  Shortly after that, they gave me the Mark, and cast me out of the village.  I only snuck back to take some things with me.  That was when I found out my mother had died."  I laid on my side and covered my face with my arm.  I started to feel sick.
Then Elmiryn finally spoke.  "I want to see it."
I removed my arm and looked at her.  She hadn't moved away from me.  Her face was turned to me, and her eyes were sharp.  "I want to see your Mark."
I stiffened.  Automatically, I thought to argue, but exhaustion had set into me.  After what I had just revealed, what was the point?
"Shut the door and lock it." I muttered.

NYX____________________________
She shut the door and I heard the snap of the lock.  I picked myself off the floor and wiped at my swollen eyes.  Elmiryn turned to stare at me from across the room, and we both fell quiet as our gazes met.  The firewood cracked and popped in the fireplace as a glowing piece fell away to the ash covered floor.  My hands raised to touch the collar of my tunic before I once again became aware of the layout of the room.  Not wanting the bed between us as I undressed, I gestured for the woman to come closer.
"You'll see better with the firelight." I said quietly.
Elmiryn came closer, a soft frown on her face as she moved around the bed to stand near me.  She stopped a foot away and placed her hands on her hips.
I bowed my head and turned so that my back was to her.  "It took them a little over a day to finish the design.  The man who did it...I grew up with him.  We were...friends.  He was an apprentice learning the ways of the shamanites.  He wasn't allowed to stop or rest until the Mark was finished." I pulled the tunic over my head.  My arms felt weak and shook as I struggled to be freed from the fabric.  The air felt unwelcoming to my shoulders, and goosebumps spread across my skin.  When my tunic fell before my feet, I stopped and took a deep breath.
I couldn't deny it, I still felt hesitant.  All that was left to remove was the bandage that wrapped my breasts.  It wasn't too late to try and stop this.  Unless the bandage was removed, the most important aspect of my brand would not be seen.
But my hands were already moving without my consent.  They undid the bandage with fumbling fingers, and before I registered it, the wraps had fallen away.  My arms crossed over my front and I squeezed my eyes shut.
I jumped when Elmiryn brushed her fingers across my back, from my left shoulder blade down to my right hip.  The magic trappings that encased me in my curse seemed to pulse at her touch.  It was something I hadn't felt before.  The best description I can offer for it, was as if my body wished to change.  To say it was a chill, or a spread of warmth isn't quite it.  I felt as if something of my blood, my hair, my skin had trembled in the most microscopic sense.
But the moment was fast, and before I could make a remark on it, Elmiryn spoke.
"They designed this just for you, didn't they?"
I nodded and swallowed.  My throat felt tired from being so tense.  "A reflection of my crimes."
"Do you remember what they did to you?"
I smiled sardonically.  "Of course.  Aside from feeling many of the lines more than once, they had it on display before me so that I may know just what my punishment would entail."  With a deep breath, I began to explain.  "There's a woman, only partially shifted in a form that looks similar to Ekilluos.  She looks like she's running away from the viewer, but her body twists so that she turns to look over her shoulder.  Her feline head is mangy and her claws are dripping with her own blood from the wounds she has inflicted on herself." I paused to ease down the lump that tightened in my throat.  My eyes began to burn again.  "From her naked chest and back, you can see worms are squirming out of the wounds she has made.  A sign of pestilence.  Inherent evil.  That was for inflicting harm on myself after Atalo's death.  Self-harm is considered a perversion of Aelurus' gift of regenerative healing."
"But–" Elmiryn began.
I cut her off.  "Next, there should be a bearded serpent slithering from the woman's open mouth.  It's wrapped around her throat and right arm.  It faces downward, toward the ground.  It's for my defiance and, as they put it, my lies and treasonous words."
"You don't sound like you believe much in that charge, Nyx..."  There was the scrape of wood as Elmiryn pulled a chair up to sit behind me.  Her hands placed themselves at my hips and she pulled me a little closer.  I bit my objection back and instead answered her remark.
"I don't doubt that it was my misguided persuasions that led Atalo to his death."
Elmiryn made a low sound with her throat.  "Go on.  Tell me what else is here."
I sighed.  "Elmiryn, you must know that I can recite each and every detail of my own Mark.  Why do you need to test me?"
There was a squeak from the chair as the warrior leaned forward to peer at me from my side.  Her eyebrow was raised high.  "Believe it or not, I'm not trying to turn this into a game.  I happen to have a problem with keeping pictures in my head.  Remember?"
I blushed and nodded, feeling a little ashamed.  Still, my shoulders bunched as I resumed my explanation.  "The woman is wearing two earrings, both feathers.  The one on the left is dark, the one on the right is light."
"Lemme guess...the separation of your two selves, right?"
"Yes."
"I'm seeing something else, but I'm not sure if I have it right..."
"It should just be a gate."  I frowned.  Elmiryn's condition really had become worse if she had trouble identifying something as common as that.  It only made me more frustrated that she had been reckless enough to go hunting while in such a state.  "At the top are some words written in my native language.  Hejka et Juek.  Hejka et Ool.  Hejka et Lunés. 'Traitor to Blood.  Traitor to Water.  Traitor to Spirit.'  I betrayed my family, my people, and my goddess. ...They made it a point to go over those lines several times."
"There's more.  Beneath it, right?"
"Below that are words written in an archaic tongue.  I...don't know what it says exactly.  Something required for the spell, I imagine."
Elmiryn's hands left my hips and I heard her sit back in her chair.
I turned to peer at her over my shoulder.  "Are you satisfied?"
She looked up at me and shook her head. "No."  Half her face was lit, the other half in warm shadow.  With her hair down, she looked feminine, just as that night in the mountains.  "But I'm not sure if there's anything I can do about it."
I stooped to pick up my bandages, conscious not to stick my rear in Elmiryn's face.  "You mean about what you remember?" I felt guilt nettle me.  I didn't turn around or raise my eyes as I started to wrap the long bandage around my chest.  I hated the idea that my pain had somehow become someone else's.  It almost made me want to apologize, but I refrained when I remembered that it was never my intention to share such things to begin with.
"No.  I mean about what I can't remember."
This made me pause.  She wanted to keep those memories?  Did she really mean that, I wondered.  And how could she?
"Was that...presumptuous?" she asked.  Her voice was low and had a warm quality to it.  It was subdued, but not in a way that suggested to me exhaustion or a sense of defeat.  Instead, it only reminded me of the rapacious looks that came across Elmiryn's eyes in the morning, when she thought I didn't see her looking my way.
"You...you really don't make any sense."  My fingers seemed to forget themselves.  They fussed uselessly with the bandage's ends, failing even to make a simple box knot.
"So set me straight."
I turned on the spot and fixed Elmiryn with a half-hearted glare.  "You are not so far-gone as to ask for what I've got, Elle.  It was perhaps the–the luckiest thing that I ended up being chased by those farmers.  If I hadn't...I wouldn't have met you...and..."  I faltered mid-sentence.  I finally managed to tie the knot correctly and moved to pick up my tunic from the floor.
As I came up, Elmiryn's hand touched my shoulder gently.  I peered at her with my tunic clutched to my chest.  She frowned at me.
"I do consider myself lucky to have found you when I did, but regardless of whether or not I was there, had you not found those farmers, I think you would've been fine."  When my gaze fell away from hers, her light touch turned to an iron-like grip.  "You would've been fine." She repeated firmly.
"You know why I was nearly starved to death?  Every village I went to chased me out.  Near my home, outsiders have recognized who outcasts are.  I had been kicked out of every known area of the Northwest before meeting you."  I pulled away from Elmiryn and put on my tunic.  "I wasn't going to survive long.  I was starving.  Just in the week that I've been with you, I think I've gotten healthier.  But...but even if I had managed something to eat, I think–"
Elmiryn cut me off with a loud snort.  She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms high on her chest.  "Shit, you're starting to get aggravating."
I sputtered. "P-Pardon?"
The woman stood to her feet with a bang.  She made a big show of stomping her feet and pushing her chair back with all her strength.  She was taller than I was, and advanced on my quickly.  The display startled me so much that it caused my legs to fail and I began to fall backward, but Elmiryn didn't let me go down.  She grabbed me by the front and lifted me up so that my toes barely scraped the ground.
"Enough of it, Nyx!" She hissed through her teeth.  Her sharp eyes were like knives turned on me, and I trembled as I dangled in the air.  I thought back to Leander, and fought the urge to struggle.
What she said next surprised me.
"You aren't weak," She said.  Her words carried such strength and force, I could practically feel them bury into my gut.  She gave me a shake.  Elmiryn's face started to turn pink at the cheeks,  "You aren't useless, you aren't a coward!  A WEAK person wouldn't have survived in that cave.  A USELESS person wouldn't have tried to take care of me.  A COWARDLY person wouldn't have tried to save their brother from death at such a great risk to themselves. You wanna know what you fucking are?  Undisciplined! But if you can keep pace with me, you're certainly capable of more.  So guess what?"  She paused and had an expectant look on her face.
"...Wh-What?" I stuttered out.  I had the most bewildered look on my face.
"We're going to train together.  I've been getting a little soft, and as my ward you've got to be able to defend yourself.  So enough of this, 'I can't fight' nonsense.  Yer gonna learn to walk with a straight back, Nyx." She dropped me to the ground and gave me a bit of a shove.  "I swear to the heavens, if I hear you bitch one more time about how you aren't good enough, I'll hit you square in the mouth.  And..." She faltered, and the flare and fire in her eyes died down.  Then without warning, she smiled and started to chuckle.  "And by the four winds, you'll thank me for it!"
She turned and walked away, swept up in a fit of humor that managed to annoy and frighten me at the same time.  Her laughter seemed to intensify as she left the room with her hand to her head.
Elmiryn had either suffered from some delusion created by her curse.
...Or she really meant every word she said.
I collapsed to the ground and blinked as a piece of ember managed to slip through the guard at the fireplace and land near my feet.  I thought to snuff out the glowing bit with my boot, but I couldn't bring myself to move.  The piece cooled and turned black.
I wondered nervously what tomorrow would bring.

Tributaries
NYX____________________________
I curled in the sheets of a massive bed that wasn't mine.  I heard patters on the window.  Fat drops of water abused the panes with such gusto that my eye creaked open.  I heard people laugh outside.  At first it was hard for my sleepy head to grasp why, but then it became clear.
I sat up and tried to blink the sleep from my eyes.
It was raining at Gamath.
I kicked the sheets away and placed my bare feet on the wooden floor, my face turned long with wonder at the sight of the speckled glass.  The view revealed to me indefinite forms that danced and shifted.  I stood, my legs affected by my fleeting dreams.  I swayed a little as I crossed the room, and the partial light lanced my sensitive eyes.  Forced to squint, I tried to shield my face with a hand, and it was through parted fingers that I saw a phantom drift toward the window.
They wore only a soaked white nightgown and their auburn hair was left to hang in wet locks about their angular face.  Even through the changing mosaic of rain, I could make out wide cerulean eyes that didn't blink or falter in their stare.
"Elmiryn," I called, hoping she heard me through the glass.
She reached a hand up and placed it on the window.  Her lips moved and I could hear her voice through the rain, but couldn't make out what she said.  I shook my head and stepped closer, where I leaned on the window sill for support.  My breath fogged the glass.  "What did you say?"
The woman laughed and shook her head.  She gestured for me to come outside and began to walk away.
I tapped on the glass and tried to call her back, but then decided I was being silly about it.  Rain wouldn't kill me.  I ran to get my shoes and was about to rush out the door when something occurred to me.
Elmiryn was standing outside in nothing but her nightgown.  Wet from head to toe.
Red-faced and thoroughly bothered, I went to the innkeeper's wardrobe where I was lucky to find cloaks both for myself and Elmiryn.  The inn itself was quiet when I left the bedroom, but outside children and adults alike were celebrating in the rain.  I didn't pause long to watch them, instead I put on one cloak and made my way around the building to the back, where I found Elmiryn sitting on a barrel with her arms crossed over her chest and her head tilted back.  Her eyes were wide open, despite the rain, and she had a long smile on her face.
"Elle, where's your sense!?" I cried as I tossed the heavy cloak onto her lap.  She didn't jump or look even remotely startled.  Her eyes lingered on the sky before she looked at me, the turn of her head a smooth line of motion that outlined her lack of concern.
"Hm?" Was her only response.  She sounded like she wanted to laugh.
"The cloak, Elle," I said, my jaw tense as my eyes rapidly shifted focus from the left to the right side of her face.  I tried very hard to keep my head up, but I could see the pink of her chest through the white fabric.  Despite the cold, heat burned up my neck.  "Put it on.  You're indecent and there's children around!"
Elmiryn blinked and took the cloak in her hands.  She stared at it for a moment before putting it on.  "Right.  I didn't stop to think about that."  Then she looked at me and her eyes squinted a fraction.  "Hey.  Now that I think about it, you actually got out of bed on your own!"
I tapped my boots in a puddle, an irritated scowl on my face.  "I'm not so languorous that something that basic is beyond my capacity."  I opened my mouth, ready to explain what I meant in simpler words when Elmiryn raised a hand to stop me.
"No, no.  I think I got the gist of that one, thanks."
I quirked an eyebrow.  "So you figured out that you can infer definitions?"
"...I can what?"
"Nevermind."
"I'm just teasing, Nyx," Elmiryn giggled.
Silence fell between us.  My eyes wandered, where they met with jovial faces.  They drifted to the buildings, whose weeping eaves and washed walls were freed of the oppressive ash that had covered them in a gloomy blanket.  My gaze rose skyward, and a single word drifted into my head in a river's whisper only to fade into the hiss of the rain.
I looked at Elmiryn and found that her eyes were already on me.  "Did you just realize?" She said.  Her eyes were warmed by understanding.
At once, I was struck with how frail she appeared.  Her hair had turned dark and wavy by the moisture, robbed of its well-kept beauty to something bedraggled and wild.  Her nose and cheeks were a fair pink.  Swallowed by the large dark cloak, she appeared smaller to me with the strength of her arms concealed.  The cover seemed to make her just realize the effects of the rain and cold.  Her shoulders hunched a fraction of an inch, and now and again her body gave itself away by a twitch or a small shudder.  With the rainwater making trails down her bare legs, I saw that the cloak was too little, too late.
I stepped closer and grabbed the woman gently by the shoulders.  "Come on, Elle.  Let's go warm by the fire.  You can't get sick."
She grabbed me by the front and pulled me a little closer.  Her touch, unlike last night, was more a suggestion then a forceful demand, still I found myself following until her face was pressed against the side of mine.  Elmiryn felt cold, and the shivers she tried to conceal could no longer hide in our proximity.
"Elle..." I sighed as my arms wrapped around her shoulders.  I willed my warmth to become hers.
I could hear the smile in her voice as the woman whispered into my ear.  The feathery feeling it caused made my hands flex against her back, and I bit my lip.
"Nyx..." she whispered.  "...Her sisters. The guardian's sisters have come back to her."

____________________________

She warmed near the fire, her head cradled against her shoulder as we sat near the fireplace in the innkeeper's bedroom.  There was a disinterest in the slack features of her face, the slow blink of her eyes, the deep rhythm of her breathing.  Heavy wool blankets draped her shoulders, courtesy of Opal.  I sat on the chair to the right of her and watched her out of the corner of my eye.  My legs were crossed and my head rested on my interlaced hands.
Elmiryn didn't say anything else after we had returned to the safety of the inn, nor did she say anything when Opal had to shoo the local children out from underfoot.  Outside, the rain had become torrential.  It chased away the festivities, and by noon, all at Gamath were indoors.
The streets were flooded with streams.  Doors were kept shut and blocked with rolled sheets to keep the water out.  Concern in me grew over whether this weather would continue.  Even in this valley, I could see the city being submerged beneath the heavenly shower.  Were the clouds still angry?  Or was this overwhelming joy?
"Nyx."
Elmiryn's voice seemed elsewhere.  I looked at her, brows pressed together.  "Yes, Elle?"
"I'm still cold."
I straightened in my seat and turned, some intention in my muscles that preceded the cognizance of my mind.  But the instinctual action halted the moment I became aware of myself, and my motive was lost.  I remained leaned toward her, and my hands hovered useless over her shoulder and back.  Elmiryn lifted her head to look at me.  Her face looked vaguely puzzled.  Her eyes traced my features, but had a glassy look about them.  "Is it okay?  To still feel cold?" she asked with a frown.
My hands clenched before they gently rested against her.  I tentatively began to rub her back.
The fabric beneath my hand was a separation between myself and Elmiryn, a thing that prevented true contact but did nothing to diminish the intimacy of the action.  The woman had told me herself that she desired nothing of my deference or propriety.  A week ago, I would have been much more hard pressed to honor such a feeling, but at that moment it didn't take much to accept her wish for companionship.  Just as I could forget myself and berate Elmiryn for her recklessness, I rationalized it was entirely acceptable to wish to comfort her in times of need–and I was learning when those times were.  Upon meeting her, I found the woman to be indomitable.  Now, in the space of a smile, the echo of a laugh, a touch of her hand, my view of her had changed.
The issue was not so much Elmiryn, but in comprehending my own responses to these curious stimuli–the heated flesh, the salivation, the short breath, the knot in the pit of my gut.  My hand made slow circles, fingers splayed, and my fingertips burned knowing that I would not stop, despite the knowledge that the fabric did nothing...
Nothing to diminish the intimacy.
Then, guided by the moment, with the silence drawn to the point of breaking, I pulled the woman to me and hugged her around the shoulders, where her head came to rest on my chest.  Her hair was still damp, and her ears and nose still pink.  Our seats were close enough that she was able to hug my torso for support.  Despite our difference in size, it wasn't awkward.
...And she said nothing.  Reacted in no other way than to go along with my embrace as if she had no choice, and cared nothing for it.  This dispassion perturbed me.  I knew she was only partially with me, and I feared where her other half had gone in the gloomy labyrinth that I tasted of her mind.  I squeezed her, and needed for her to react.  "Elmiryn."
"Haven't you ever felt like your insides were cold?" she said suddenly, like a machine startled to life.  "As if the heat of the world can't penetrate the shallow layers of your skin?  I tried remembering how warm the townsfolk looked despite the rain, but I can't remember their smiles any more."  The woman chuckled low.  She went on rambling and I didn't stop her, only tried to keep myself from hugging her tighter.  "There was fire in his eyes," she said, a hint of fascination in her voice.  "I don't remember how it looked, but I felt it.  And I shot him in the back.  The arrow lunged instead of hopped that time–the first time, I think my hand forgot it belonged to me and just let go.  I remember him groaning, the men grunting, and I thought it was such a disgrace. ...But hey, the bastard's blood won't be in the streets anymore.  Fire's gone, but he's dead."  She sighed.  "I wonder if I'll ever meet a man who can stand upright and kill me.  Maybe I'll feel like I'm in ice, soon.  I can't think of anything colder...or is it possible to go further?"
When she finished my eyes squinted as much as I felt confused.  I shifted to look down at Elmiryn's head.  "I don't understand at all."
"No?"  She sounded unconcerned.
"What do you mean, 'A man who could stand upright and kill me?'"  If I could, I'd ask for her to explain everything, but I figured I'd get my answers bit by bit.  It seemed as much as she could handle, at the moment.
She shifted a little, and her chair squeaked.  "Hmm," she said.  "I was thinking of a large man, who went around on all fours.  The son of a bitch was angry at me.  But it's okay.  He's dead.  Got him, yesterday."
I tensed.  "You mean a therian?"
"No.  He wore furs.  I mean he looked like an animal.  It doesn't matter anymore.  He's dead."
"But Elmiryn, who's dead!  You can't just tell me–" I stopped, as I finally understood.  I closed my eyes, and my expression turned weary.  "Elle, I want you to listen to me.  You didn't kill a man.  You killed a bear."
I expected her to argue with me.  Her silence did indeed carry a sense of resistance to it, but she didn't say a word.  I opened my eyes and said again, "It wasn't a man, it was a bear.  I even heard some of the others you were hunting with tell me so."
"Was it the gargoyle?"
I shook my head, my chin brushing over her damp hair.  I decided to ignore the bizarreness of the question.  "Elle, just believe me.  It wasn't a man.  It just wasn't."
She remained quiet.  Then nodded.  "All right..." she murmured.
She shifted her face toward my body and breathed in deep.  "Hey Nyx...guess what?"
"What?" I managed to ask that in a steady voice.
Elmiryn's hug tightened around me.  "You sound like a musical instrument."  She made as if to lift her head, and I turned my face to give her room.  But what she did instead paralyzed me.  Elmiryn indeed raised her head up, but without pulling away from me.  She trailed her lips up my neck to my ear, all hot breath–none of the supposed cold she claimed she harbored inside.  She said quietly in my ear, "I can feel your voice in my head, as much as I can feel your heartbeat.  Can you tell me what I'm thinking?"
My body tensed, and when my sensibilities returned to me, I placed my hands at her shoulders as if to push her back.  But then Elmiryn sat back enough to look me in the eyes, and the distant look was gone.  She was fixed on me.  Or some aspect of me.  It was a growing suspicion of mine that when the woman stared at me as she did then–intense and hungry–she didn't actually see the whole of me...or she did, but saw me in a different light than she should, just as one might gain a new understanding of a sculpture or building by changing their view point.
I heard myself speak.
"...You want something I have."
The woman, her cerulean eyes lit with warm half-moons from the fire, took my face in her hands and pressed her lips to mine.  I didn't cry out, only widened my eyes and straightened with a deep intake of breath, like I had just been dunked in freezing water.
Her mouth was articulate in touch, and expressed its desire by its eager press and dominating manner.  I was left no room to question, anymore than I was allowed the night before while held aloft by Elmiryn's powerful grip.  My hands clenched and seemed to consider the situation at hand...only to acquiesce and take light hold at the crooks of Elmiryn's arms.  Something clandestine uncoiled itself from the center of my chest, and my eyes slipped shut.
I responded.
My lips moved against Elmiryn's as if in a stutter.  She pressed forward, the frailty that had shrouded her giving way to unabashed eagerness.  Elmiryn parted just enough to hiss into my open mouth, "Give me your Meaning."  I only distantly wondered as to what she meant.  She didn't give me much time to mull over her demand–only pressed her mouth harder to mine and pressed forward so much I was forced to lean back.  I grabbed at her to keep from falling, and her arms encircled me again, pulling me closer.
Her hands roved my back as her tongue found its way into my mouth–no pause to see if I would object. It hardly seemed a concern of hers, and just as I suspected her intense stare saw something inconceivable in my features, her desire seemed driven by a motive other than simple gratification.  I started to genuinely feel afraid she would smother me until I suffocated.  I could hardly breathe with her long tongue exploring every cavity of my mouth.
I suppose she became unsatisfied with the separation of cloth that guarded my back, for her hands slipped underneath my tunic and trailed their way up my skin.  The moment her fingers touched the lines of my Mark, I froze, the sensation from the night before striking me.  Though part of my back was covered by my bandages, not all of it was, and these parts Elmiryn explored eagerly.  I would have told her to stop, would have pushed her back...but with every pass of her hand, the sensation in me grew.  I heard a humming in my head, as though my bones resonated.  My skin grew hot.  In a singular fashion–not a wave–my body felt as though it were about to break apart into dust.
I arched my body with a choked sound and broke our kiss, as my head craned back as far as it could go.  My eyes rolled, eyelids twitched and tears slipped down the sides of my face.  At first, I imagine Elmiryn must have thought the arching of my back as an encouraging response.  She bit at my neck, near my throat where I tried to speak, but couldn't.  When I started to thrash and convulse, the situation finally seemed to reach her.  She pulled away from me, and her embrace turned from one of a lover's, to that of a person struggling with the insane.  Her hands came out from under my tunic to better hold me.
"Nyx!?" she cried.
I was, again, aware of every inch of myself.  It was as though I vibrated down to the smallest part, and the heat that claimed me burned so much it stung.  I fought to continue breathing.  I managed shallow gasps.
Then I felt something familiar, but just as terrible, slip through the sensations that gripped me.  My joints ached, and my muscles started to shift.  Meat and sinew slid at the cost of my nerves.  My bones elongated.  Something between a cry and a groan came from deep inside me, and I fought as hard as I could to remain in control of my body.  The greatest difficulty came in that I wasn't shifting correctly.  My right arm, my left hand, both my shins, and my shoulders were the only parts of myself that called for change.  When I shapeshift, the process starts at my chest, then spreads in a symmetrical pattern.  This confused change was harder for my mind to pin down and stop.  I closed my eyes to concentrate on regaining control.
...It amazes me, looking back, how I was capable of forgetting about my counterpart.  How could I sit on my laurels and not anticipate her return from whatever sleep she had slipped into since the guardian's cave?
I knew I was winning my fight when I was able to scream.
The heat began to recede.  The pain and aches in my muscles and bones faded as they returned to normal.  With the humming gone from my head, I could hear Elmiryn panting over me.  I sucked in air desperately, like I had just come up from water.  With my head feeling as though it weighed a ton, I strained to sit upright again.  My eyes opened, slow and heavy.
...Terror struck me.
"What happened?" I cried, blinking and trying to open my eyes as wide as possible.  Not even a sliver of light shone through the left side.  My right eye strained as if it could pick up the slack left by its sibling.  "Why can't I see out of one eye!?"
Elmiryn frowned deeply.  Her ruddy hair was a curtain around her face.  "You can't see out of it at all?" she asked.
"No!  I can't at all!"  I rubbed at my eye.  Squeezed it shut and opened it again.  I wailed.
I pushed out of Elmiryn's embrace, our limbs a confused tangle after the way I had struggled in her arms.  Clumsily, I managed to free myself, and gazed with my one good eye to see that Den, Opal, and a few others were crowded at the open door of the room.  They stared at me in confusion...and perhaps a little fear.
"What happened?" Den asked with a step forward.  He seemed out of breath, as though he came running.
Elmiryn gave a shrug and glanced back at him.  "She hasn't got her eye anymore."
I looked at her in confusion.  I felt near hysterics.  "What do you mean??" I cried.
Opal looked at her father before she spoke.  Her voice was small and shaky.  "Ah...your...your eye.  It's different from the other one.  It's...um..." her voice trailed and she turned away, as if the sight was too repulsive for her.
"It's Her, Nyx." Elmiryn finished.  "She's opened her eye."

ELMIRYN________________________
In the twilight hours of the day, when glowing embers danced and flew to a paper sky, Elmiryn would hold her breath. The watercolor shades and the cut-out stars would not burn, would not burn–no matter how much she wished to see heaven; and it would be between the spaces of wishes such as those where she rediscovered common sense. It always skulked in the fading light, bent over and sullen without the glare of the suns to illuminate its homesteads. Those places were decrepit, but they still stood, and it was with a self-deprecating snort that she remembered:
People only have one set of eyes.
No gaze could be switched or swapped for another, not even in magic. Not as far as she knew. (and she questioned what she knew frequently these days)
But at the time, it didn't occur to her. At the time, Nyx stared, or half-stared, along with all the rest in the room. Elmiryn looked back at them and smiled unapologetically. "Well, it's obvious isn't it?"
Den put his hand on his hips, a queer action the warrior thought, and squinted at her. "What do you mean?" His mouth was a little open as if breathing through it would bring words to him quicker. It seemed an annoying habit of men to breathe more harshly either through the nose or mouth when agitated.
Nyx went to sit on the bed...no...could that constitute as sitting? More like falling. Yes, she fell on the bed and managed to land upright. Mismatched eyes stared across the room to the window, where outside they could see water still fell. And what did the Animal think, in her dark place of unbeing...?
...Did the walls breathe, where she lived, as they did for Elmiryn?
"Elmiryn!"
Things switched, just like a picture, to a new image with a snap. When had the sight of a mouth-breather changed to begin with? She couldn't remember. Didn't bother. There was a memory in her neck of motion, and she was quick to learn that in her state, it was the body that remembered things best.
"What are you all doing here, anyway?" The woman asked with a bite in her voice. There was something beyond concern, beyond fear or worry that rooted these gawkers to the spot. It bothered her that the heat of her lips burned hotter than the fire, and that these fools kept staring in blatant disrespect just because...all because...
"You all need to leave."
The turnip was buried, and would not come out. Not for the suns, not for the rain. These people would not dig it out with their ignorant horror.
They stared at her. "We heard screaming!" Den exclaimed. He seemed defensive. Defensive of their hovering, their whispering, of the crowd that grew at the door to try and peep at the bodily freakshow that could be found.
"Thanks for your concern," She stood to her feet.  Steady.  This world was hers, she reasoned, and the floor would not shift without her permission. Her turnip would not be stirred. Elmiryn gave a curt nod. "You can all go now."
Den, with his jaw hung open, scowled at her, then turned and gestured for all to leave. The warrior could see the tenseness of his back, the red heat that stained his neck and shoulders. Good intentions led them there. Poor conduct led them out. Elmiryn wasn't sorry.
Her lips still burned.
When the door was shut and the only sounds that could be heard was of the gawkers leaving, the rain pouring, and the wood cracking in heat, Elmiryn turned to Nyx. "You can't lose control here."
"I know that," Nyx snapped. She looked, as much as the Animal looked, and glared with quivering lips. "I'm...I'm trying to-to-to do something, but typically there's a...um..." She squeezed her eyes shut and grit her teeth. "It's hard to explain to a human. In our minds, its being able to consciously access a different part of ourselves. At a young age, we learn to control how we shift down to the body part. We train until the process is clean and even. If it isn't, then bad things happen...like..." she gestured feebly at her face and opened her eyes again. "This."
"Does She...speak to you?"
Nyx, pale-faced, shook her head. "No. I can't hear Her at all...and it scares me."
"We can sit here and wait a while. The rain hasn't stopped yet anyway." The woman stepped forward with the intention of sitting next to Nyx, but the girl jumped up as if the bed expelled her.
"Elmiryn, I think...well, I don't know why, but I think this happened because you touched my Mark." Nyx spoke in a hurried voice, one that was tense and had a note of something else, something Elmiryn couldn't name outright.
The woman's eyebrow tilted. "You didn't say anything the first time I did it."
Nyx sighed and began to unwrap the bandage from her right hand. "When you touch my Mark it does something to me. I don't understand it, but it's like my body is being forced to transform." The girl wrapped the bandage around her head. It covered her left eye completely. Elmiryn thought of the Animal, and how her world would go dark.
How it would go small and quiet.
"...Are you sure you're up to traveling today?" The woman asked. Her shoulders had tensed, and she tried to remember the vast sky, the free circulating air, the far stretched plains that were open to her.
The Ailuran said nothing. She went to fetch her bag at the foot of the bed, and when she moved to do so she turned her body the long way around. Elmiryn noted that it was a purposeful, conscious act, but wasn't sure what its goal was. She could see, from the side, that the girl glared as she took up her bag. "Elmiryn, I understand why you have to ask, but really, the concern isn't necessary." She muttered this through tight lips. "The guardian expects us. We've had our days to rest, so...."
"If we leave, I don't want to stop. Can you keep it together until we make camp tonight?"
"I'll be fine." Nyx picked up Tobias's book from where it had fallen on the floor the night previous, and shoved it forcefully into her bag. Elmiryn could hear her breathing had turned thin and uneven–desperate little gasps that shuddered from the concentrated effort of pushing forward. She mulled over the noise. Closed her eyes to it. Felt it in her head and breathed it a little herself. It was within that small moment of analysis that the warrior knew it wasn't fear or sadness. Those were emotions that spoke of defeat. This sound was harsher.  The purpose of Nyx's wide turn became clear.
The girl was angry.
"...Nyx, look at me."
"What is it?" The girl's face was turned to the floor. She seemed dead set on faking activity as she rummaged through her useless belongings.
"Kitten, do you see me in that bag of yours?"
"No, no, no–do not call me that!!" Nyx shrieked. She turned and threw her bag with an overhand sweep, and its contents skittered across the floor. Elmiryn watched them bounce away, and she completely believed in that moment that they were pieces of a life lost. Shiny fragments that had no place. The redhead looked up again to see her companion glaring at her, her single eye ablaze with some other element that she didn't recognize. It wasn't a color that belonged in Nyx's composition, and Elmiryn wondered if it were the same girl.
The Ailuran breathed hard, her face angrily blotched and her hair more tussled than usual. She brandished a finger–the one hand that wasn't bandaged. (A bare hand, Elmiryn thought. A free hand.) "Don't call me 'kitten'," Nyx seethed through her teeth. "Or 'turnip', or any other diminutive epithet that can jump into your bewildered mind, because I am not yours to...to..." she faltered. Her brows pressed together and her hand lowered.
There she was. Nyx was back. The disquiet, the anxiety, the ever-lasting guilt that congealed to form the pale slip of a girl.
"Why did you save me that night in the forest?" Nyx asked in a feeble voice. Her eyes threatened to drown. "What reason did you really have? And don't tell me it was because you thought I was 'interesting'."
Elmiryn gazed across at her, affected by the distance between them. Nyx was once again before her, untainted and unvisited by fury, and yet she seemed a straight arrow's shot away...
The woman turned her eyes to the floor, and after a moment she stood and knelt down to pluck up a life fragment. She recognized it as a presence that had been there throughout her life. Did Nyx take a piece of her, and slip it into her bag? The battles, the dead, the blood spent? The warrior squinted at it. Felt the fragment with her fingers. She called on logic to fill the gap that memory left, and her eyebrows rose high. "The arrowhead," She breathed. Her lips pulled up at the corners. "The one I shot you with...You kept it."
"I did." Nyx knelt down and began to slip her things back into her bag. "It was so close to killing me, yet it saved my life."
"Kind of like how you think of me."
"I..." the girl paused and looked at her. "No, that's not..."
Elmiryn's grin grew wider. "It is. You've already told me I frighten you sometimes. But you call me your friend." The woman held out the arrowhead. "After this morning, can you still say that?"
Nyx reached for the trinket slowly. When she touched it, her fingers brushed Elmiryn's and she paused. She hurriedly pulled her hand away and dropped the arrowhead into her open bag. Her face was red.
"Elmiryn, please answer my question."
The woman bowed her head. "I saved you," Elmiryn started. "Because," she closed her eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again. Her gaze was softened by a sense of nostalgia. "You...moved the shadows." She said slowly. She touched a hand to her head, and her eyes unfocused. "You had claws when you had none, and yet you refused to use them. You had a means to escape, but you didn't take it. I remember...how excited it made me feel. There were no more trees, there was no more darkness, and the men who wanted to kill you had become this single thing that...that...didn't even distinguish itself. In my head, I just remember this inhuman blob, and even with the torches they held...they were black compared to you."
When Nyx spoke next, she sounded anguished. "You must have had some motive, Elmiryn. Something other than what you saw."
Elmiryn frowned at her. "...You aren't listening to me."
"I am. Of course I am! For the second time, perhaps a little more long-windedly, but nevertheless, for the second time, you're telling me you just found me superficially interesting! I called you my friend, Elmiryn! I called you my friend!" Nyx took a deep breath. Her next words she blurted out in a rush. "You just want me around to toy with!"
"That isn't true. You're hearing me, but you aren't listening!" Elmiryn felt anger clench her fists. "Nyx, I saw you! I heard you! And there wasn't a doubt in my mind that you existed. You begged for your life, and I believed you had life. I wanted to save it! I wanted to have you and your life and your voice with me!" Elmiryn slammed her fist into the floor and leaned forward on it, her eyes wide and challenging. "You want me to admit that I only wanted you along as a servant? You want me to admit that I only wanted you along so that I could fuck you raw? You want me to admit that I don't care about you? Well I won't, because that isn't true–and as for what happened earlier, I won't apologize for that." The woman shifted closer and hissed. "I can still taste you in my mouth."
Nyx leaned back and sucked in air sharply. "Elmiryn–!!"
Elmiryn didn't give her a chance to speak. She stood to her feet and paced the floor twice, before growling and going for her things.  The woman was aware there wasn't even a need for them as they weren't leaving yet, but she felt she had to move.  Busy herself, as the girl had.  Nyx remained quiet behind her. The redhead took up her bow and quiver with forceful hands, then finally slowed.  The emotion that fueled her was now like gray coals. Elmiryn bit her tongue and pursed her lips to keep the spontaneous giggle that ripped up her throat from joining the air. She covered her mouth with her hand, and thought, "I got angry."
Then she couldn't keep it in anymore.
She doubled over, and the sound of her mirth occupied everything. She felt it in her head, her chest, her limbs. It started sloppy, like an animal that had broken free of its restraints and stumbled clumsy into a frantic run.  It steadied into a rhythm, clear and almost like a composed song. Tears sprang up in Elmiryn's eyes and she threw her head back to send the sound up to the ceiling.
"I got angry! I was pissed! I was furious! And–And–" and she had to pause because her humor felt the need to interject. When she had enough breath to speak, she continued, "And it was all because you–" Elmiryn turned, expecting to see Nyx, but she realized with a cold sink of her gut that she was alone in the room.
The woman's laughter died instantly.
"All because you...make me care, Nyx." Elmiryn whispered.

____________________________

Mid-afternoon.
The rain died.
Elmiryn didn't mourn it.
She stood in the drowned streets, with her arms crossed on her chest, and noted a sense of kinship with the quietness that existed around her. Was it because, abandoned out here, these complicated structures lacked purpose? Was it because the wind sang through the cracks, or because the puddles of water lay still?
Was it because these streets were inhabited by ghosts?
Elmiryn hadn't seen Nyx since that morning. The girl had slipped away. At first, it bothered Elmiryn. What about the girl's promise? But then, she recalled the movements of her mouth, and the sound of her voice in her head. "Stay with me. As much as you can. Please."
Perhaps, the warrior reasoned, Nyx had done just that. It wasn't necessarily breaking a promise. Nor could she begrudge that sometimes, a person needed to be alone. She had known that feeling once. Surrounded by so many, and yet with no one at all, she had wished all the strangers to leave. All the problematic buffoons and the sycophantic sluts to just leave. Funny how such a wish was fulfilled, only to carry on longer than she wished it.
The real question was, would Nyx come back?
The feel of new cotton beneath a caramel quilted doublet was a delight to Elmiryn. She felt new. The old bustier was something of an annoyance–didn't allow for much breathing room and made it difficult to twist around in combat. The shoulder guards, she admitted, were useless without the rest of the armor to go with them, so she rid herself of those too. They went into a trade bargain–compensation for the items Nyx received, as well as for Elmiryn's new clothes and some needed supplies. She contemplated ridding herself of the sword–it was a heavy item that attracted attention due to its design–but she reasoned that she could use it in training Nyx. This was a matter she would not let alone. The girl had to become self-sufficient to some degree, or she would meet a gruesome fate.
These thoughts occupied her mind. Kept it busy as the suns warmed her face and lit Gamath in patches. The shafts of light were like translucent glass that came down through the spent clouds, and the woman watched quietly to see if the wind could break the illumination.
"Miss."
The woman turned to see Opal approach quietly on light feet, her hands behind her back and her square face flushed.  Elmiryn knew the girl must have followed her.  A lock of brown hair danced before her lowered eyes as she gave a small bow. "I've...I've already spoken to Nyx and apologized for my poor behavior. I...we shouldn't have behaved as we did. It was intrusive.  It was insensitive and rude. You've done so much for us and yet we just stood there like–"
"It isn't your fault." Elmiryn said. She uncrossed her arms and touched a hand to Opal's chin, forcing her head up. The woman grinned. "You can't be ashamed for working off your prejudices–everyone on this planet needs a way to react to something new and mysterious if they wanna keep from getting overwhelmed. You're already a cut above everyone else."
Opal blinked. "How?"
Elmiryn tapped the girl's forehead. "Because you've had your prejudiced reaction, and now you're trying to move past it." The redhead shrugged, her eyes shining with a sudden glee. She giggled and gave Opal a hearty clap on the shoulder. The young girl looked at her, utterly bewildered.
"You can't expect to get that completely right on the first try," Elmiryn finished as she brushed past, back the way she had come.
She had wandered along the cobbled paths, up alleys and down thoroughfares, past old buildings that seemed like new, and new residents who were in fact old. The deeper toward the center she traveled, the more populated it became, until it seemed she was back in an average town, filled with average people, doing average things. There were hammers banging, dogs barking, wheel carts squeaking, children laughing all around.
Yet the feeling of kinship faded. Elmiryn didn't understand it. Her good humor gave way to annoyance as she watched the pasty faces of little boys quiver and twist under the excitement of pretend battle, their grubby hands gripped tight around wooden swords, and their voices like whips at the little girls who got in their way of adventure. Whereas, in the prior days, Elmiryn could differentiate sentences, pick out particular persons, and even pinpoint the locations of speakers around her–now she could not. There was just a wave of din, of busy busy nonsense that filled the spaces of the rain-washed buildings. They prattled and prattled, making their noise, and within seconds of standing outside the entrance to the nameless tavern, Elmiryn realized she was no longer in the company of sentient creatures. They were odd caricatures, burned and painted into the sides of a box of din, one that enclosed her on all sides. She stopped moving, felt a wall come up before her, felt the sky turn to deceitful art, and the ground become a shaky concept.
Elmiryn sucked in breath, felt sweat break out over her skin. She thought to reach out to the walls that pressed on her and push them back, but with a cold feeling, she wondered what, if anything, she could push back with.
She felt someone touch her skin gently. The most she could ascertain was that she was being touched somewhere on the left side. The woman also knew she was supposed to do something. But she didn't know with what. She moved to speak and felt her voice tickle her closed lips.
"Hoo'sfere?"
"...What? Elmiryn, are you all right?"
Nyx.
Elmiryn chuckled, something she was still aware she could do.
"Elle, why are you keeping your mouth shut. Tell me what's wrong!"
Mouth shut? That was right! She forced her lips to budge, and they did so grudgingly. "I thought I sounded funny." Her lips still felt tight.
"What are you doing? You look like you just dived into a hot bath!"
"Nyx, could you do me a favor?"
"Ah, sure. Um...what do you want me to do?"
"Push me."
"Sorry?"
"I said push me. Hard. Go on."
"But...but why??"
"I get stuck sometimes. Normally I can figure it out on my own–y'know, with depth perception or some intellectual crap like that...only it snuck up on me this time. I...gods damn it, I don't know how else to say it. The only thing I know, is that I have my mouth, and a left side. ...Can you just push me, please?"
A pause. It seemed to grow a little quiet. Were the caricatures watching? Elmiryn didn't know. Her view had somehow got stuck at the tavern's doors.
Then suddenly there was a shove, from the left–two petite hands pressed into Elmiryn's side–and the woman fell to the ground where her limbs struck limp onto the ground in a painful flop. Her head had a nasty bounce, and at once the warrior became aware of her neck. She lifted her head. For a brief moment, she thought she saw the fragments of her broken cage fly threw the air...then she realized they were just spots dancing before her eyes. The woman made a clumsy effort to stand. Two pairs of hands grabbed her arms from the front and helped her. Her eyes lifted and she saw Nyx, her one eye still covered, staring at her with a bemused look.
"Are you okay?"
The woman gave her head a shake. She felt hypersensitive. Every strand of hair, every inch of her skin, even the saliva in her mouth had her mind's attention. But not more than Nyx's touch.
"Well that depends," Elmiryn answered. "Are you still mad at me?"
Nyx immediately began to protest. "Elle, I wasn't mad I was..." she faltered.
Elmiryn gave her a smirk. "Oh sure you weren't mad. You were just, y'know, mad."
The girl sighed and helped lead Elmiryn inside the inn, where the warrior's eyesight seemed to go pale for a moment before adjusting to the dim lighting. "Yes. I was upset. I...wanted to blame you for my eye. But..." Her face turned a bright red as she guided Elmiryn into a seat. "Y-You were right. What happened was as much–as much my doing as it was...ah...yours..."
"Fuck, Nyx. Don't dance around it. I kissed you, and you kissed me. There."
The girl sighed. "Okay, fine."
"You...wanna talk about it?" That seemed like the right thing to say. But it occurred to Elmiryn that she wasn't sure how to explain the desire she'd had at the time.  Why, of all the intimate moments they had managed to have in their short time together, this morning had been any different.
"No," Nyx said with a bashful look to the side. "...I think I need to get back to normal, and think about everything more. Right now I'm a little–"
"Unbalanced?" The girl only sighed in response. Elmiryn sat forward, glad to feel substantial again. "Can you hear Her?"
"I'm afraid not. But I feel like there are times when I fade and she slips through. When I come back, it's like I'm coming out of sleepwalking–only partially aware of what I did."
The woman nodded. She made to stand, and Nyx held out her hands, a worried expression on her face. Elmiryn waved her hand dismissively. "I've got it. I'm better now." She gestured for the girl to follow her. "Come on. We should leave while we still have plenty of daylight."
Nyx nodded and stood.
They gathered their things. Elmiryn assigned Nyx the task of holding her longsword. The swordsman's belt seemed out of place on the girl, and rested at a slant even when they buckled it to the last hole. By the time they were through, a crowd had gathered at the tavern. Neither she nor Nyx had told anyone that they were leaving, but anyone eavesdropping could've spread the word. When they came outside, there were cheers and whistles. Elmiryn tried to keep her face straight, but she disliked the clamor–if only because it made the crowd seem less like a collection of humans and more like some hideous inanimate blob that bred hate in her ears. She made a mental note to avoid such things in the future.
Den, who was at the front of the crowd, came forward. He extended his hand, his eyes fixed on Elmiryn's with a stale sort of respect. The woman's lips twitched as she took his hand. Men and their wounded prides...
"Thank you," He said clearly, so that all could hear. Ah, a show. "Thank you for all that you've done. Both of you." He added, with a look at Nyx. His eyes lingered for a moment on her bandaged face.
Elmiryn tightened her grip and clapped him on the shoulder, bringing his focus back to her. "Take care, Den."
She let him go, letting her gaze sear for a moment longer, before she turned with a dismissive air to acknowledge the crowd. She smiled and gave a nod. They cheered again. Elmiryn touched a hand to Nyx's shoulder and urged her forward with a brisk pace. The girl looked at her, a little startled, but didn't stop or say a word.

____________________________

"Elmiryn, why did you want to leave so quickly?"
"I thought you wanted to get out of there."
"Well, I did. But why did you?"
"...They were starting to aggravate me. Those newcomers."  Behind them, Gamath had become an indefinite mass.  Out in the fields, they still passed the abandoned corpses of various creatures.  The difference this time around was in the maggots that squirmed inside them. "They make so much cursed noise," Elmiryn continued.  "They were the reason I froze up. All the sounds...it just ceased to make sense to me. And since it was coming from them, they ceased to make sense. It snowballed until I felt like my world started at my ass and ended at my nose."
"You said you only knew you had a left side and a mouth. What did you mean?"
Elmiryn sighed and squinted at the horizon. She recalled the directions given by the townsfolk and knew they were almost to the guardian's meeting place. "I meant it literally. The noise overwhelmed me so much that I lost a sense of my limbs. It was like my mind got disconnected from them. I would've fallen...If I believed I had the room to do so. Since I didn't, I guess that's why my legs didn't give out."
"You said that this has happened to you before?"
"A few times. The last time I recall was back in Dame. It wasn't as bad, then. If I focus hard enough, I can expand my idea of how large the world actually is."
"That must be so unsettling." Nyx's voice was gentle. Elmiryn glanced over at her. She smiled at how her companion contrasted so starkly from the dismal looking mud.
"It happens the other way around too. Sometimes I think...I feel...that the world is so large. Too large. It makes me feel tiny and fragile, like I might be destroyed by a strong wind." She looked forward again. The ground they walked began to incline upwards. "That's one reason I find solace in drinking. It numbs me, and makes these ideas...smaller. So that I can deal with them easier."
"Doesn't it have an adverse effect too, though?" Nyx slipped on the mud as they crested the hill. Elmiryn grabbed her elbow and steadied her. The girl peered up into her face, her expression somber. "You're more susceptible to wrong ideas," she finished.
Elmiryn shrugged. "A miniature disaster. Those are easy to clean up when I'm sober."
The girl shook her head and gave the woman a sidelong look. "I don't like it."
The warrior only shrugged again and said nothing. They stood at the top of the hillock and looked down at the river, which frothed below.
"They said all we had to do was stand here..." Nyx mumbled to herself. She looked up and down the river, confused. "Maybe the guardian is still at its cave?"
The water suddenly fell quiet. Elmiryn and Nyx exchanged looks and leaned over to stare. The water seemed completely still, and yet its clear depths revealed nothing.
The redhead frowned. "Shouldn't we see it swimming around or something?"
Then the river bubbled, and from its peaceful surface stretched the guardian. Elmiryn and Nyx both hurried back from the edge as the immortal being grew to tower over them. No longer was its flesh an angry crimson canvas suffering from tumors and ulcers. Now it was a smooth, shimmering dark blue, as fluid and as graceful as the river it was tied to. It bubbled a greeting.
"Elmiryn, Nyx...I've been waiting for you."

NYX____________________________
My breath was startled from me, banished like an evil agent from my lungs.  I felt the brand on my back burn with severe agitation, and my blood turned hot in my veins.  I  had to crane back far to look up at the guardian's head.  I involuntarily shivered.
Neither I, nor Elmiryn, said a word. Some water came down on us, clear fat drops of diamonds, as the guardian's amorphous body bowed over.  She was a brilliant blue giant that emanated a sense of gentleness and power at the same time.  Her trunk rippled a little from the strain of her spiritual ban.  I heard a sigh come from her like water sweeping sand.
Her head, bulbous and darker than the rest of her body, dropped to me like a suggestive drop still clinging to its brethren. "My sisters told me of your troubles, dear Nyx. I'm sorry to see that my concerns proved right." And amid her river hiss, I found she did sound sorry.  So much so that I could feel it by the pull of my veins.  I cried out a little and held my wrists up to my one good eye.  The veins in my wrists showed dark through my pale skin.  The ache broached on outright pain.  Tears filled my eye.
I swallowed, and felt my watery spit trickle down my throat.
The guardian, meanwhile, turned her head to Elmiryn. I hadn't noticed, but the woman was almost as pale as I was, and her jaw had gone tense. "Elmiryn. Do not fret," The river guardian gurgled. "What you feel is natural in my presence. Your body is yours, and the blood that surges is a sign of life strengthening–not fleeing."
The woman quirked a smile, her eyes glassy. She shook her head and muttered something to the mud that I couldn't hear.
The guardian turned back to me. "I am sorry for your discomfort, Nyx.  I will try to keep our meeting brief." Her head bobbed a little.  I bit back a hiss of pain as I felt my veins throb again. "As you know, when I restored you, I returned all to its rightful places–including returning your beast nature to the dark.  But there are further complications of which you must be made aware of."
I swallowed again, and tried not to gag at how my spit seemed to slime so eagerly.  I pawed at my neck, where my jugular vein felt as though it were fighting to rip out of my skin.  "Why do I...feel this way?" I bit out.  My joints ached.  My nose started to run, and chagrined, I wiped at it with my sleeve.  "You told Elmiryn it's natural.  What I'm feeling isn't natural at all!"
The guardian murmured as she gave her head an agitated toss back.  "Then I'll tell you outright–in the cave, you thought you had shifted to Ekilluos.  This is not true."
My eyes squinted and my brow wrinkled.  "But I've known no other form like it!" I objected feebly.  My heart started to beat hard.  I couldn't take another horrifying revelation.  I just couldn't.  I squeezed my eye shut and felt the last of my tears slip down the side of my sweaty face.  The wind breezed by, and I felt the sweat chill my scalp.  When I opened my right eye again, it felt dry.  I rubbed at it with my hand.  I took several clumsy steps back and cried in a shrill voice, "What's happening to me!?"
The river guardian sighed. "I've consulted my sisters of the sky.  They told me this..." I lowered my hand and blinked.  With my one gaze, I saw the guardian's skin turn darker–so dark she appeared almost purple. "Nyx, in the basest explanation I can give:  you are splitting apart.  Your soul heaves in opposite directions to find a clean break–to find freedom.  I'm sorry to say this, little one, but what was only your queer reference to the self has now become quite literal.  You are You, and she is She.  With such instability, the vessel you know as your body cannot help but feel attracted to the harmony of my being.  That is the reason your skin, your sweat, your blood seems to rebel against you."
I felt my heart sink to my feet. I tried to keep myself drawn upright, to keep my breathing steady and even. "My Mark–"
"No." The guardian cut me off, her voice a splash. "This was before your curse. You've known it to some degree–haven't you? The way your other self fought you, the way it seemed to think independently of you.  It was perhaps a form of psychosis, then. You had learned to control it. But I tell you, young therian, your discipline will no longer do you any good. The strength of your other self has become much more, and your union has turned tenuous. The madness that had taken this land served as a sort of...catalyst."
I tried to keep my knees locked in place.  I gripped my fists as my eye strained to bring forth tears that would not come. "How can what you're telling me be possible? How can what you're saying make any sense?  There ARE no other forms beyond the Sacred Five of the Lunar Hall!!" I took deep, slow breaths.  Saw the spots before my eyes and fought against the urge to collapse.  "And I know I've been at odds with my animal nature, but what you're suggesting is...is...completely impossible!!  If She is a part of me, than I should be able to control her!  I mean–gods DAMN it–I should be able to control me!! I just need to..."  I wiped at my nose again, furious, but shaking with fright.
Elmiryn spoke for the first time. She reached over and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.  At that moment, I hated the weight it pressed on me.  In my mind, I flashed to the thought of biting it, tearing away the skin and muscle to reveal the frail bones beneath...but then the image fled me, and I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.
"Nyx...remember your eye."  Elmiryn's voice sounded far away.  I had to turn my head fully just to be able to see her properly with my right eye.  "If all it took was concentration, then you'd have it back to normal, wouldn't you?  That time in the cave, you wouldn't have switched places either."  She squeezed her grip.  My fingernails dug into my palms and my spine curled.  "Think about it...you 'switched' places!  If you and She are one in the same, then why the hell did that happen?  Why consider it a 'switch' at all?"  Her expression was neutral, and her voice didn't sound right, given the situation.  She seemed to regard it more like a philosophical puzzle.  Elmiryn didn't strike me as the type of person to bother with that kind of thought.
But I was learning quick not to trust all I had surmised about her.
"Your companion speaks the truth." The guardian bubbled. "The paradox is this–if you and your other nature create a whole, then how can one's control be replaced?  Just because one self is more apparent than the other, that does not mean the other traits are gone.  An angry man can still hold sadness, and a lunatic can still know something of truth.  You, Nyx, as a therian, SHOULD be a girl who also happens to be a cat.  But the reality is different, as was seen that day.  You are not a girl who is a cat.  You are a girl who inhabits the same body as a cat...and this is an abberration of nature, as decided by the gods in heaven."
My knees finally failed me.  I sank to the mud, felt the sword knock my legs like a useless appendage, and didn't care that my newly acquired clothes were soiled.  I felt like curling into a ball, away from the truth, away from the logic that made a hole in my gut.  I wasn't just an outcast or a rare exception to the rule anymore.  I was abnormal.  I was against nature.  To be cast out by the forests, the seas, the animals, the magic, the common intellect–
I.  Was.  Anathema.
My fingers tingled.  I retched and fought my stress-induced nausea.  Vomiting was becoming too common in this new life of mine.  When the illness faded, I slipped into a numb shock.  With my mouth slightly parted to allow the slivers of breath to pass in and out, I fixed a stare downward.
"No two souls can inhabit the same body," the guardian resumed. "But unless the other can be assimilated, the dominating soul cannot survive should the other die.  In your good fortune, the process of separation is still not complete... Nyx, raise yourself."
I couldn't move.  I remained huddled in the mud, my arms crossed over my chest as I folded over onto my legs.  I felt Elmiryn's hands take my sides, and with strong suggestion, she pulled me upwards. She had to support me as I numbly stared up into the guardian's inhuman head.
"You should not despair, young therian... No, I forbid it.  You cannot, for hope is not lost.  My sisters' tell me of a place across the Hellas Ocean, on the Indabe Continent.  There, in the heart of it, lives a sage of considerable power. He is much older than I, and he will be able to help you.  To get to the Indabe Continent, you will have to head North, to the port known as Reg'Amen.  My sisters tell me that Njord and Atargatis quarrel fiercely.  The safest way to cross the ocean is to sail along the Northern islands, where their conflict does not churn the waters so.  Be wary in who you trust–the islands are plagued by pirates.  Once you've reached the Eastern lands, your greatest challenge will be seeking audience with the reigning Queen of the region where the sage dwells.  You will need her permission before you can speak with him."
"Thank you.  We'll head there right away." I heard Elmiryn say.
"Regarding the enemy you seek...I have been unable to ascertain his whereabouts.  This disturbs me.  I fear that you may be fighting a force far more insidious than any here can imagine."
"...Do you believe in astral demons?"
The guardian's voice frothed.  "I believe there are ancient things in existence that I know nothing about.  If you wish me to validate your theory, Elmiryn, I cannot.  I will not, however, cast out your idea.  My only suggestion is to look elsewhere for your answers.  What the dreads of Fanaea call a 'pamu', the fair of  O'kai call an 'apple'.
"One final thing, before you resume your journey." The guardian dipped low, so that she peered up into my face.  "Nyx, there is something for you to see down by the river shore.  Walk out far until my influence leaves you entirely.  Then drink of the water.  You will see what the Medwin has to bear."
The guardian pulled back like a retreating current, and as she did so, I heard her whisper, "Thank you...and goodbye, my braves..."
Elmiryn and I stayed until she vanished into the river completely.  Then the warrior, with a grunt, bumped and dragged me back down the hill where we came, and we went around the side.  Together, we loped awkwardly, banging with our belongings, along the river's edge.  The further we went, the stronger I became.  When I felt as though I could walk on my own, I pulled out of Elmiryn's arms and knelt by the river to drink, just as the guardian had instructed.  The water felt refreshing and a calm settled over me.
A moment later, the water where my hand had dipped into, bubbled and sloshed.  Tendrils of it stretched up into the air.  They weaved and thickened, making an elaborate framework, until they formed the shape of a man.  This was different from the inhuman beings the guardian had at its beck and call.  The watery golem had a human face–a very familiar one–and I felt my throat constrict when my mind made the connection.
Sedwick stepped towards us, his watery form turning very much to flesh as the formation of his naked body completed.  The only thing left transparent were his shins, which faded back to water the closer it was to the river.  He was completely hairless, with white eyes and his face free of the scar that had once distinguished him.  He looked at Elmiryn, then held his gaze at me.
"Hullo," he said quietly.  Nothing of his voice seemed magical or peaceful in that way that ethereal beings tend to be stereotyped with.  He sounded very much like an ordinary man.  A sorrowful one.  "It's a surprise, isn't it." He continued, when neither Elmiryn nor I responded.
"You...had hair before...right?" Elmiryn asked, with a slight tilt of her head.
Sedwick looked at her.  Then barked out a laugh.  His clean-shaved face broke into a slash of a grin.  "Yes, yes I did."
"You've...you're...different," I noted lamely.
The man looked at me, his somber expression once again in place.  "The guardian gave me a second chance." He held up his arms. "Unlike you and Elmiryn, she could end your union by calling back what was hers.  In my case however...the flesh was already separated, becoming a permanent part of me.  In a sense, it was like she rewrote history and made me her son.  I'm...not immortal, but she tells me I will live long, and can travel beyond the river as you do.  But my well-being is forever tied to to the health of the Medwin."
I covered my mouth with my hand.  "Sweet Aelurus...I'm so sorry!"
He gave me a small smile.  "It isn't your fault.  You couldn't stop what Aidan had done.  It's my penance...for leaving him there."
"You can't be held accountable for that!" Elmiryn said in a firm voice.  She had a stern look in her eyes.  "It was his failing.  Your obligation was to the people you protected."
Sedwick nodded, but without any real conviction.  "You're right."
My gut twisted.  I stepped close to the river's edge, nearly falling into the river on the mossy rock.  "Baldwin was in...my care."  I strained the last two words out.
The man chuckled and shook his head.  "Nyx, our memories were shared.  I saw what happened and I know that...I was wrong in allowing Baldwin to come to the cave.  But he would've done so anyway.  The boy was stubborn.  He never really listened to me.  All he wanted was his family back."
I opened my mouth to object further, but found I couldn't think of anything to say without repeating myself.
"This new life will take getting used to...but I'm already looking forward to the possible good I can do," Sedwick said, looking at us both.  "I want to thank you.  For all your efforts."
My eyes, which had gone dry from my shock earlier, watered once more as my cold skin flushed warm.
I wanted to get away from that haunting gaze, that subdued voice, the battery of words, so bizarre to me that they felt almost entirely offensive.
With quivering lips, I forced a smile.  "Sedwick, I'm just glad to see you're all right."

NYX____________________________
Nighttime.
It was a silent consensus by the both of us, that the eyes of others weren't quite what we desired.  We avoided the main roads that led to Gamath and made our own way, silent, each consumed by her own thoughts after our meeting with the river guardian and Sedwick.  We traveled until the mud turned to firm soil, and the firm soil to shy grass, and the shy grass to unchecked meadow–so tall that the fields teased my fingers.  The wind chilled us and made the earth sigh.  When the three suns peeked beneath the reign of clouds–their smoldering gazes hot and searing in the clandestine evening–Elmiryn and I cut the fields to the inland forest.  It sat dark in the shadow of the Torreth Mountains, and there was a mist in the air that clung to my skin and made me shiver.
But a part of me was glad.
We had returned to the wilderness, where insects made music beneath the bracken fern, and a nighthawk's glowing eyes blinked at me from the high branches of an old whitebeam tree.  I was given a moment, finally apart from my revulsion, to appreciate this beauty.  I hadn't realized how much Gamath had bothered me until I smelled the fresh soil and flowering fauna–heard the rustle of leaves and the shift of grass.  For more than a year, the wilderness had been my home.  No civilized place would have me.
"...And now," I couldn't help but think, "Not even nature will have me."
"Feels better doesn't it?" Elmiryn asked in a low voice.  She led me through the forest with careful steps, and spared me a glance to see if she could find a hint of me in the growing shadows.  I had to hold her elbow a little, as my lacking eyesight made grace difficult when busy roots sought to trip me.
"It does," I answered, voice equally low.  In truth, I wasn't sure if we were keeping quiet due to some precaution, or because the forest seemed far too peaceful to speak in a normal volume.
"Excellent.  I think I see a break in the trees."  Elmiryn hurried her pace.  I tried my best to keep up.
We sidled past a set of young bushes and came into a man-made clearing.  The ground had clearly been swept and cleared of brush, and in the center was a simple pit circled by rocks.  The soil in the pit had turned black, and at the bottom was charred wood.  Elmiryn knelt by it, looked into the shallow pit, then around the clearing.  I looked around too, as well as I could with my one eye, but saw nothing of interest.  It was too dim to see tracks, bones, or seeds.  Finally the woman stood to her feet.
"I guess it's fine. Whoever was here isn't coming back or we would've found them."  She set her things onto the ground.
I followed suit.  "Maybe it was a traveler from Dame?"
She shrugged.  "I don't care so long as it doesn't mean trouble."
We set up camp.  Elmiryn managed to make a fire with the last glimpses of light.  I went about roasting the slices of seasoned sheep's meat on a pan I found in the bag she brought.  She, meanwhile, prepared the bed rolls.  They were both laid out beneath the branches of the largest tree at the clearing's edge, so as to protect against any possible rain.  She sat down and set about checking her things.  It didn't take long before her eyes were on her modest collection of knives.
My eye watched the sheep's meat turn brown over the heat of the flames.  Slowly, under some ghost of an idea, I raised my hand.  It felt heavy and weak.  I covered my eye and saw my world go dark.  The reality of my situation struck me again and a sob punched from within my chest.  I curled defensively against the sound.
"Nyx!  You're burning it!" I heard Elmiryn shout a few moments later.
I gasped and sat upright, my hand moving to reveal that the pan had dipped far into the flames.  "Why didn't you tell me sooner!?" I yelped as I pulled the pan out of the fire and vainly tried to put out the fiery sheep's meat.
Elmiryn had moved from her place to sit next to me, a jug of water in hand.  "Shit, shit...gods damn it, I only just smelled it now!"  She poured enough on the meat to stop the fire. Then she looked at me and started to snicker.  "Sorry...I was distracted.  I was focusing on sharpening a dull knife." She chuckled and covered her mouth with her hand.
I blinked at her.  Then felt the corner of my lips pull upward.  I could feel my throat tighten.  "Elmiryn...what am I going to do?  What are we going to do?  ...This'll be like the blind leading the blind!"  These last words found themselves interjected by sudden fits of nervous giggles that came from some unknown place within me.  It built up, until I felt tears fall from the tip of my nose and my ribs ache from gasping out harsh laughter.
Elmiryn laughed too–even surpassed me, to the point that her humor turned to mute convulsions that had her bent over her crossed legs and her arms around her head.  Somehow, even sitting up as I was became a difficult task as some hysteria took me over.  I dropped the pan onto the ground and cried out into the night air through fast giggles,  "Look at us!  Two blighted fools knocked together out of poor luck, and we barrel onward towards complete chaos!  We make no sense!  None at all!" I leaned against Elmiryn's body and shook her with both hands.  "Listen to me!  Oh, listen to me please!"  I paused to let another bout of giggles fade away.  "Sweet Aelurus...Elmiryn...my gods Elmiryn...it's as if you're a ghost and I'm just a twin hiding her sister!"
She managed to calm down enough to be able to speak.  When she did so, she sat up and peered at me.  "Hey...you're right aren't you?"  Her smile turned shy and I thought I saw her cheeks flush.  "That changes it a little, doesn't it?"
I frowned at her, still chuckling.  "How do you mean?"
Elmiryn had fallen quiet.  She puckered her lips a little as she thought.  "Well," she began slowly.  "They always say two eyes are better than one..." she snickered, a slip that almost set us both off again.  With light eyes, she glanced at me, "But in this case, what does it matter if you can't see a ghost?"
I sobered and pulled away from her.  "Maybe...We...don't count among the living?  Maybe We're just unbeing?"
Elmiryn sighed and shook her head.  "Why do you do that?"
I shifted nervously.  "Do what?"
"What you just said.  Refer to yourself like you're more than one."
"You do it too, when you talk to me," I returned, defensive.
"Well...isn't it...isn't it not supposed to make sense?" Elmiryn rubbed the back of her neck.  "When you stop and think about it, it does sound weird.  Isn't something in our minds just supposed to reject saying things like that so casually?"
"I don't know, Elmiryn.  When I was young, I always saw it that way.  It wasn't that anyone told me to think that way...I just...did."
"...But it's not the truth."
"And when did a person's belief require credibility to come to pass?  Whole societies have bought into more ludicrous ideas!"
"More ludicrous than a soul being ripped in half?  But...you're right...and that's what I don't get.  How does that kind of gut feeling turn out to be wrong?  What does that say...about every other notion I've ever had?"
I gave her a severe look.  When I spoke, my voice was sharp.  "You can't think that way.  You'll completely come apart if you do, so don't you dare think that way!  Why does this matter all of a sudden?  It's my problem–you're just taking it too personally."
Elmiryn raised an eyebrow at me.  And I felt my face burn hot.  "I'm sorry," I said hurriedly.  "I...I don't know why I got so upset."
"No, no," she said.  A smile crept onto her face.  "I sorta like it when you get a little worked up.  At least it's you being protective of me instead of the opposite.  ...Sort of."
I brushed my fingers over my bandaged eye.  I tried to imagine Her, trapped in the dark.  My lips pursed as I thought, with bitter satisfaction, "At least I can still control what she sees."  I tried to envision how frustrated she would be, pacing as a caged animal, given only a window to a world still denied her.  But then the blood drained from my face, and my mouth hung open as I launched to my feet.  My heart pounded in my ears.  I looked skyward.  There was moonlight, but from our location I could not see the moon.  It was perhaps concealed behind a cloud.  Fervently I counted beneath my breath.
I reeled.
Elmiryn had gotten to her feet, and held me steady.  "Nyx, what's wrong?"
I looked at her, my face screwed up with worry, my mouth dry.  I was such a fool!  How could I forget something so important?  "The full moon," I said, breathless.  "It's tomorrow!  Elmiryn, it's the only time of the month she has full control.  What if I can't come back!?"
The woman looked skyward, then at me.  "I'll watch you.  I think your Twin is a little afraid of me.  If she tries anything, I'll just trap her until you come back."
"Oh gods, it won't be that easy!"
"As far as I'm concerned, she's taking you hostage that night.  I can't stop it, but I can make sure you return to me."  Elmiryn smiled and brushed my cheek.  "I can't go losing the voice in my head."
I felt my face burn and I turned away.  I gestured at the sheep's meat.  "Sorry about the food..." I mumbled.
"Nyx."
I closed my eye.  "Yes?"
"I have an idea on how to change your eye back to normal."
I looked at her in surprise.  "You do?"
"Yeah.  Close your eye again."
I gave her a wary look.  "What will you do?"
"Nothing really.  I just want to show you a trick of mine."
"Elmiryn–"
"It won't hurt you.  I promise."  She smiled at me.
I sighed heavily.  The shadow of her smile barely hid its ulterior motive, and her eyes had a hint of mischief to them.
But my eye slipped shut.
I felt her pull away the bandage, and I held my breath.  The air felt cold against my left eyelid.  There was another brush against my cheek–slower this time.  "Nyx," I heard Elmiryn say. "I'm going to show you what I do on those nights when my mind disconnects."  Her touch trailed from my cheek to briefly brush back my hair.  She tucked the longer bangs behind my ear and blew softly at my face.  "When I start to doubt what's mine and what isn't," She said, "All I do is focus on what that part of me is feeling...are you focusing?"
"Yes."  Inwardly, I berated myself for sounding so meek.
I could hear the smile in Elmiryn's voice.  "Good."  She cupped the side of my face and lightly brushed her thumb over my eyelid.  "If you can feel this part of you, then it's yours.  Believe that."
I swallowed.  I wondered at the conflicting desire to step forward and step back at the same time.  I could feel the heat of the fire, displaced by the occasional breeze.  Elmiryn was standing perhaps closer than necessary.  I didn't move.  I didn't want to find out how close she was...or how far.  My body was becoming warm in a way entirely unrelated to the fire.
The logic of Elmiryn's argument was sound.  What I felt, was mine, and the sensation spread throughout me.  A sort of possession.  Elmiryn blew softly against my eyelid, where her hand trailed down to hold my chin.  Her breath was warm...so warm that it left a light moisture where it fluttered.  I swallowed and felt my throat constrict.  Shortly after, her lips touched my skin lightly.  She kissed the corner of my eye, then my cheek, before she pressed her face against mine.  "Nyx, you know...I'm fond of you."
I bowed my head a little.  "Is this really the best time?"
She gave a huff of a laugh, and her breath startled my mess of hair.  "When's a good time?"
"I...um..."
Elmiryn pulled away.  My eyes slipped open and I looked at her sideways, brows pressed together.  She lifted my face with a finger under my chin and tsked.  "You try to hide, even when you're in plain view."
I gave a small shake of the head.  "We can't do this."
"Why not?  Is it because I'm missing a body part?"
I scowled and blinked.  "N-No...I mean...I confess, I've never thought about being with a woman before.  But it wasn't unknown, where I came from."
"Really?"
"It's just our way of life.  The men often leave home–it was rare to find a constant fatherly presence.  The women stuck together and sometimes special relationships came out of it.  Society didn't care so long as they answered the call to bear children. ...But...but really, Elmiryn, the issue is more than that."
She crossed her arms.  "Enlighten me."
"There's been so many surprises these past few days.  So many startling revelations.  It's a lot to take.  Can you accept that it's a lot for me to take?  I just got through calling you a friend, I'm...it leaves me a little breathless to think otherwise so soon."
"...But you do."  There was a dare in her cerulean eyes.
My breath caught and I leaned back a little.  "It's inconceivable.  I can't think of a time in history when a therian and a human ever–"
She snorted.  "What?  You think a propagandist culture like yours would ever fess to inter-species relationships as something remotely good?  As something that's even physically possible?"
I sighed and shook my head.  "No.  They wouldn't."  I gazed at Elmiryn somberly.  "But there's the obvious complications.  Something of our curses adversely react when you touch my Mark.  And...and...you're so passionate."  I closed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair.  "It's more than I can take.  Especially now.  Tomorrow, I shift.  I won't be the same."  I sat heavily on the ground and pulled the pan toward me gloomily.  "I might never be the same."
Elmiryn squatted next to me.  She fisted her cheek and leaned on her right knee.  "You know, I wanted to ask.  When you were young, did they ever explain why you are the way you are?"
I looked at her in confusion.  "You mean why we transform?"
"Not just that.  I mean your relationship with the world.  I was taught that Halward was the father of the human race, and he created us to serve as channels for the energy of the universe.  Fair folk and elementals cultivate energy.  So what about therians?"
"In the case of Ailurans, we're just descendants of Aelurus.  Where as your species channel life, and other species cultivate it, we simply conduct and regulate.  I don't know what other therians say.  Likely something similar."
Elmiryn squinted one eye.  "So does that make you more of a spiritual being?"
I bit my lip.  "I think so."
"So you're like the river guardian?  Is your spiritual ban to shift under the full moon?"
I gave her a startled look. "I–what?  No!  Of course not!"
"Then you're telling me you have the choice to shift."
I stared at her.  My mouth hung partially open.  Was that what I was saying?
"We have to change," I whispered.  "We have to.  There's no way we can't."
"But it's a spiritual matter.  If you can control your spirit, you can control your body.  If you can control your body...can you still call yourself a therian?  As far as I can tell, that's the only thing that sets you apart from me."
My jaw tensed.  "Do you even hear yourself right now!?  You're calling an entire species weak-minded!  If I never shifted again for the rest of my life, would that make me 'better?'  Would that make me human?"
Elmiryn shook her head, unfazed by my indignation.  "No."  She grinned.  "It'd make you boring."  I turned to her, indignant, and she held up a finger, effectively stopping me. "Joking, Nyx.  Joking.  I never meant to call your species weak-minded, I'm just thinking aloud, all right?"  She sat down on the ground and looked skyward.  "...Maybe I'm a therian.  I always did love the moon."  She gave me a sideways look.  "That'd take care of at least one of your problems, wouldn't it?"  I felt a heat blossom deep in my abdomen, and the anger I felt drained to an unnameable sort of discomfort.  The woman chuckled and idly wiped a hand across her brow.  "Gods...What if I were a cat, like you?"
A smile spread itself across my face, and I tried to hide it by ducking my head and letting my hair fall forward.  It was easy for me to envision Elmiryn as a cat.  A wide variety of breeds existed within the Ailuran race.  I tried to think what kind she would be.  A lion?  A tiger?  A cheetah?  My face grew hot, and my eyes spaced.  She'd have a sleek coat, a powerful body, and to hear her purr would be–
"Hey, Nyx?"
I jerked upright, and my eyes went wide.  I looked at Elmiryn and laughed nervously.  "Yes?" I squeaked.
Elmiryn raised an eyebrow at me.  "Could you turn your face a little more towards me?"
"Huh?" I shifted so that my I faced her fully.  "What is it?"
"You haven't noticed?" The woman asked with a smirk.
"Noticed what?"  I touched a hand to my left eye. "Elle, tell me!"
"You're drooling."  Elmiryn snickered and bit a knuckle to keep from laughing outright.
I wished the ground would swallow me whole.  I wiped hurriedly at my chin, where sure enough, drool dampened my palm.
Elmiryn sighed and hugged her bent knee.  She leaned back and puckered her lips as if in thought.  Then she added casually.  "By the way, your eye is back to normal."
I gave a start, my jaw dropping.  "Really!?"
"Yeah.  You're seeing out of both eyes aren't you?" I blinked.  I was, but hadn't thought about it.  "Just check your reflection in one of my knives if you don't believe me."
I stood to do just that, my feet tripping over themselves in their haste.  I picked up the biggest knife and scooted near the fire so that I could catch some of the light.  I gasped.  My eye was indeed completely back to normal.
"Told you," I heard Elmiryn say.  I looked at her just as she picked up one of the slices of sheep's meat from the pan and took a bite.  She grimaced and set the meat back down.  "Really burnt," she said around the food in her mouth.  She spat it out in the bushes behind her.
I swallowed and put the knife back.  I straightened slowly from setting the blade down, a little embarrassed to look back.  When had my eye changed back?  Why hadn't it hurt?  Did Elmiryn know the whole time, or did she just notice it herself?
...And how distracting was the woman that I couldn't even take note of sight returning to me?
"Elle...thank you," I said quietly to the trees.
"What did I do?" She said behind me.
I turned and peered at her.  "You helped change my eye back."
Her face drew long, like this statement surprised her.  Then, in the usual sudden fashion, Elmiryn started to giggle.  She covered her face with her hands.  Something about this made me smile shyly.  Once again, Elmiryn came across as strangely feminine, the way she pretended to conceal her amusement.
"Elle, why are you giggling?" I asked as a chuckle slipped into my words.  I drifted nearer to the fire and sat down, cross-legged.
Elmiryn peeked at me through her fingers and grinned.  "Nyx, I'll be honest.  I just wanted to get close enough to give you a kiss on the cheek, that's all.  Any other way, and you would've panicked on me."
"Oh.  Was that all you wanted?" I muttered.  My collar felt hot.  I tugged at it, and glowered at the trees.
Elmiryn dropped her hands from her face and breathed in deeply.  "I wasn't lying when I said I was fond of you," she murmured.
I fiddled with the hem of my tunic.  "Fond how?"
"Fond as in...I want to wake up to you in the morning." She fixed her attention on me.  I looked back at her, like a fish biting at a hook.  I expected the eyes of an architect–the focused and objectifying stare that had leveled me that day in Gamath.  My lips quivered, burning with the memory of her kiss.
...But to my surprise, those eyes were not there.  Not there in the way that I knew they were hidden, tucked beneath a separate persona, not unlike my own special set of bestial eyes.  What I was confronted with instead was softer.  This gaze–cool eyes swathed in heat–held simple sincerity.  My hand planted itself on the ground and I leaned my body in Elmiryn's direction, my eyes widening in fascination.
This was a side of Elmiryn that had previously only revealed itself under the influence.
"I've seen you turned inside out...and you were good to me," The woman continued, when my silence stretched on.  She paused, then turned her gaze to the fire with a shrug of her shoulder.  "Don't read so much into it.  I'm only being honest."
"And yet still vague," I returned with a frown.  "Elmiryn, I won't be one of your conquests."
"No," she said with a soft smile.  "...You'll be the thread that holds me together."
I snorted and looked away.  "And if the thread is poorly spun?"
I immediately regretted opening my mouth.  Elmiryn sat upright like a bolt, her eyes at the widest I'd seen them.  When she spoke it was a harsh whisper.  "What did you just say?"
I looked at her, taken aback.  "I–I–"
She crawled to me frantically, and I scrambled back in alarm.  She caught up to me quickly and moved over my body.  Elmiryn stopped when she hovered over my waist.  The fire lit her from behind, and her face was illuminated by the soft touches of the moonlight.  I blinked up at her, frozen in my anxiety.  She reached a hand toward me, but stopped partway.  The woman than shook her head and turned her face.  I heard her mutter, "It isn't yours," before she stood up and walked past me.  She didn't pause to dust off her knees or hands, just sat on her bedroll and laid back.  I remained where I was, my breath quiet, but short.  I dared to move only when the fire started to die down.
I sat there and watched the weak flames lap at the black and disfigured wood.  In the quiet that was given me, I reflected on the recent conversation–my meekness against Elmiryn's self-confidence, the pain versus the humor, my anger versus...
And I paused.
Feeling disparate, I turned where I sat and looked at Elmiryn's still form.  She was under a blanket and on her side, feet towards me, with her arms tucked beneath her head.  Intuitively, I knew she wasn't asleep.  I moved to her side and knelt.  "Elmiryn."
"Mmm?" She didn't move her body, but I saw her eyes blink.  Lightly I touched her shoulder.
"Elmiryn...I don't know why you got upset, but I'm sorry.  I–"  My voice cracked.  I took a deep breath and tried to resume as steadily as possible.  "I'm just worried.  What if I come apart, and no one is left to help you?"  I wiped hurriedly at my eyes.  Tears slipped between my fingers.  "I don't want to be the reason you..."  My words left me.  I bowed my head and tried to contain myself, and my body shook with the effort.
Elmiryn rolled onto her back, and her side brushed my knees.  She reached a hand up and brushed back my hair.  "Nyx...You forget."
With a hiccup I looked at her and frowned.  "What do you mean?"
Her smile reached me, even in the indefinite darkness.  "It was my job to protect you, before it was your job to contain me."
I looked at her, then laughed and buried my face in her stomach.  She patted the back of my head, and I peeked at her shyly from beneath my mane of hair.  She grinned at me through the valley of her breasts.  "You're a little off the mark, as you can see."
I poked her side.  "Oh, don't start!"  But I had a grin to match hers.  The way the shadows draped us, and the privacy of the untamed forests protected us, I felt safe.  From this angle, Elmiryn didn't seem like the fearsome warrior I had met a week ago.  It occurred to me then, that this was the first time since we had met that we spoke like this–in the dark.  But the difference then, was that a stretch of branch and preconceptions separated us.  I could hardly say that the mysteries surrounding our relationship were solved.  But the waters I had previously eyed with trepidation were now up to my waist...and it was a relief to know that despite the horrors faced, I didn't drown.
I licked my lips and sat up a little, my left hand planted on the other side of Elmiryn's body so that our sides pressed intimately.  The woman had laid her head back again, and her eyes had gone closed.  "Elmiryn..." I breathed.
Her eyes opened a sliver, and I thought I saw her smirk.  "Mmm?"
My heart pounded.  I leaned over slow, and my arms shook with the effort of supporting me.  I planted a light kiss on her brow and pulled back to whisper.  "Probably against my better judgment...Elmiryn, I'm...I'm fond of you too!"  I shook my head and let a wry smile spread across my face.  "It's against all of my common sense, actually," I added with a giggle.
Elmiryn tsked.  "Nyx, you know how to make a girl feel special."
I just giggled again.  Carefully, I laid at her side, and Elmiryn shifted so that she faced me, one arm tucked beneath her head.
"Well how can I make it better?" I asked quietly.
The woman scooted closer, and brushed her nose against mine.  "You want to know what you can do?" she asked in a breath.  She draped her arm over my side.  "I can't sleep.  Could you...tell me a story?"
I blinked.  "...Really?"
She snickered.  "You sound disappointed."
I hoped she couldn't see the way my face flushed in the dark.  "No, no...I...just don't know any stories well enough to tell you."
"Maybe you can tell me about that guy.  Wind."
"Oh, right..."
"...What's the matter?"
"I'm trying to remember what Tobias wrote."
"Forget what he wrote.  Tell me in your own words."
"...Okay."
Beneath the branches of tall trees, I told Elmiryn in hushed tones of the time mighty Wind had trapped the godless Spider of the West.  Their conflict played out in the space between us, like a suspended breath, but rather than replace our dreams, it weaved into them.  Spider, a Legend without a master, and Wind, a man without a home.  Us beneath the arms of nature, hunted and hated, with the blessings of an immortal spirit and a compass that pointed northward.
The fate of a man, Sedwick, who lost so much to gain an opportunity beyond what anyone could have conceived, hovered in our minds...and who was to say it was a good or bad thing, what happened to him?  Who was to say I was a monster, doomed to be alone?  Who was to say Elmiryn was a ghost, doomed to fade away?  Didn't all of our misfortunes return us to our hopes, in the end?  In stories of lives far apart, that echoed across lands and cultures, that whispered across hundreds of pages, and that haunted children's dreams as much as our own...
Who was to say that a river, couldn't have its tributaries?

...quietly...quietly...
we speak to fall.
but close at heart
are we
from the start:till death apart
are we

Author's Note I didn't want the climax of my story to be the defeat of some big monster or an evil wizard. I wanted it to be about dealing with the truth. In real life, I didn't have all the answers upon the conclusion of this story, but like the characters, I found my path and walked it---problems and all. Once again, the plot reflected my life.