July 2017 vignette

[Rogue]

A cliff at least six times her height -- that was the distance between the Arainthe Vardis and the river below. The cliff wasn’t unconquerable and he was behind her. His footsteps were growing louder, growing closer with every breath. Six times her height. A rushing river below. She could pad the landing with a spell and lessen the impact. Behind her was a man who wanted her head, and in front of her was a thin possibility of survival. There were no other options.

She spun, twisted, and threw herself off the cliff with one swift leap. She smirked as she caught sight of his surprise. Then the river sprayed upwards to meet her.

Goodbye, asshole.

This was the last thing she remembered.

--

“Oh good, you’re awake,” said a voice. Female, breathy, as though charged with adrenaline. “Quick! Can you walk? We have to get you out of here. Mad Evans might be back at any time!”

What?

Her mind was groggy, and her eyes could not focus. Her limbs felt weak, as though she had not moved for weeks on end, or as though she had just awakened from a long, long sleep. The last thing she remembered was jumping into a river and seeing a most peculiar river crab--

“Yeah, you did,” the voice snapped. “Jumped into that fucking river in fucking Mad Evan’s territory. Whom you were running from. Stupid. Like he won’t know where it ended. Did you even stop to think?”

Foreign hands reached for Arainthe’s arms and torso, and pulled her out of… something. She hadn’t realized that she was laying down. Huh. The hands handled her efficiently and roughly, rather like a farmer would a sack of potatoes. Then she was slung against someone’s shoulders and propped upright.

“Can’t walk. Wonderful. Bet you can’t cast a spell to save your life either. Guess that’s what getting preserved in enchanted dry ice for a year does to you.”

What? A year? She blinked. Her eyes had began recognizing the barest hints of light, even though the world was still a red-gray haze. Without further warning, she was half dragged into a caricature of walking. Her bones felt soft, and her toes tingly at the state of movement. She tried to open her mouth to protest, but only managed a hoarse neigh. The hands around her tightened their grip, and the movement became even faster.

“We’re breaking you out, Arry, that’s what’s happening. Good gods, it’ll take forever to put you back in working condition again. The next time you go hunting for artifacts in a madman’s house, you’re not allowed to say no to backup.”

Oh. That sounded... quite nice, actually.

"You're fucking welcome."