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  1. #11
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    Aegis's Avatar

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    995

    Name
    Tristain Edelven
    Age
    23
    Race
    Human
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    Male
    Location
    Corone

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    The room was still quiet as Tristain let himself back in, fresh clothes draped over his arm. He dropped them on the back of the chair - and froze. There was something in the air, something that he recognized. Something that should not be there. It was faint, distorted, but growing more potent with each breath he drew.

    The tang of copper in the air. Some might have missed it, but Tristain had been trained in a mercenary camp. This smell was something he was painfully familiar with, the scent of blood. In the air. As that realization crystallized in his mind, the man burst into motion. The door to the bathroom as still partially ajar, thankfully - if it had not been, there was every chance Tristain would have broken it down, slamming into it in a rush.

    The woman - Aynur - was floating, her hair drifting around her frame. The scene was almost peaceful and serene, and might have been, if it wasn't spoiled by the fact that the water around her was slowly being stained red. Scissors lay on the floor beside the tub, by an outstretched hand, one edge gleaming red. Sharp brown eyes quickly scanned the woman, the urgency of this situation breaking past any modesty he might have had.

    For a moment, Tristain’s breath hung up. Her other wrist, floating in the water, was pulsing red out into the water, like a perverted fountain. A pair of scars, a reminder of a dark time, twinged in phantom pain, and for a brief second the mercenary was back in the woods, the scent of blood filling his nose as warmth left his body. The creak of the boards under his feet were replaced with the rustling of tree branches, as red spread on dirt beneath his knees -

    With an inarticulate growl, fury, shame, pain mixing indistinguishably on his voice, Tristain tore himself from painful memories. He snatched her arm out of the water, strong fingers curling around her wrist and pinching the wound shut. He felt eyes on him, but ignored them as he shoved his other arm into the water, dragging her out of it. She was light, painfully so.

    “It’s ok. It would have been...peaceful.” came her tired voice as she pressed her head into the crook of his neck. He bit back the snarl. He knew where she was, had been there. Had been worse - because he had been dedicated to it, had known exactly what to do. If - not the time for memories.

    She was lucky. For whatever reason, she had missed a few things. Only one wrist was cut, and it had been a horizontal cut, not a vertical one. And scissors, even if sharp, were not the best tool for this kind of thing. The problem had been the water, keeping her blood from clotting up, but he didn't know if that had been on purpose or not.

    “Peaceful or not, you deserve better than to die in the bathtub of a near total stranger.” Tristain shifted his arms, cradling her against his chest as he headed back into the main room. His pack - it had supplies to bandage wounds, though he'd been expecting to need to use them to fix himself up after fights. They would work though. She would live.

  2. #12
    Member

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    GP
    996

    Name
    Aynur Ziva
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    Corone

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    She waited passively as he worked so hard to save her. Truth be told, she hadn’t even been fully aware of her actions. Did she do that? Aynur knew she did, but she didn’t remember making a conscious effort to do so. The woman glanced down at her now bandaged wrist and slowly turned it to and fro. She couldn’t see it, but she felt it tightly wrapped around her. She winced at the movement.

    “It stings…” She whispered. “But I feel it is wrong for me to complain, it is self inflicted. It is nothing compared to having your fingernails ripped out and your fingers broken.” She drew her eyes up to where she assumed his face was. He drew in a sharp breath and from the feel, she knew he was close and for once. She was actually looking him straight in the eyes.

    “There is nothing wrong with complaining. It - sometimes, you need to share pain. It -” He broke off, and she heard his hair sway as he turned away, and she felt his fingers on her arm tremble slightly before resuming working on her bandages.

    Share pain…why? He was trembling? Was he cold? As he continued to ensure her wound was properly bandaged Aynur could feel the broken way he breathed in and out. It wasn’t just his hands, the tremble was on his lips. She cocked her head, ear toward him to catch sound of him better. He remained wordless as he continued to work.

    She reached out to place an arm over his shoulder, her wet form was slowly sliding off his lap. Should she care that she was naked? He didn’t care. She forgot it was a thing, shame, decency. Those things were torn from her. Just like her eyes. She shut them and pressed her tired head against his form.

    “Tristain...why are you helping me?” For a moment, he was silent, and so still she could tell he wasn't breathing. His fingers tightened on her wrist, and it was then he finally spoke. His voice, raspy and rusty, sounded discordant, off kilter.

    “Because I have been here. And it is not a good place for anyone to be.” A heartbeat passed. “Someone helped me when I was there. It would be an insult to them not to help you.”

    His words and actions implied just that. At some point he had tried to take his own life. Her heart sank at the thought. The thought that someone so strong, so kind and well of was in a place where they could not climb away from the dark hands of despair that clawed at her. Those very cold, dead hands and him in their grips too. Did this mean she had no hope of ever climbing out? Or was this his way of reaching out to her…?

    Aynur lifted a hand to trace the marks against his skin. Bumps and ridges up his arm. She imagined the sort of things he may have done to himself to cause such marr on his body. Aynur wasn’t sure she’d ever understand him. She couldn’t do much. Hell, she was sitting here naked against him and she couldn’t even try to do anything physical with him. She didn’t have it in her.

    Instead, she did the only thing she knew she was good at. She sang. She sang the song of serenity, a song taught to her from the clan up in the mountains. One that was sung in another language, in Ar’Tuel. It warbled and lilted around the room. Slowly rising and falling in a steady rhythm, a gentle current of a melody. Her hand drifted idly up and down his arm as she continued.

    If only she had some sort of power, if only she too could help him.

  3. #13
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    Aegis's Avatar

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    995

    Name
    Tristain Edelven
    Age
    23
    Race
    Human
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    Male
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    Corone

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    Tristain held his hand against Aynur’s wrist - pressing gently on the wound through the bandages, stemming some of the flow of blood with pressure. Beneath his fingers, the bandaged were becoming stained a ruddy red- the knowledge of what lay beneath stirring dark memories inside of him. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes for a moment.

    This waif, lost and abandoned, blind, it was easy to see why she had sunk into that dark despair and decided to try ending things. The death held a glamour of a kind, to someone who was trapped in a terrible life, he well knew it. The mercenary would - stay, for a time, help her get back on her feet before moving on. He couldn't afford to stay and get attached, not here, and he didn't know if she would want to come on travels with him.

    As she sang, softly, a tune in words he did not recognize, he closed his eyes and breathed slowly, still gently holding her wrist. The song washed over him, and he felt tension long carried ease from his shoulders - despite the fact that the situation he was in was one where he would normally be feeling more tense then ever. Still, with the calm that came with it came the decision to make the offer.

    He suited action to thought, and spoke up. “I do not have much in the way of security to offer you, Aynur. I am a mercenary, not a knight, I have no land, no title to myself, nothing of that sort. I have skills etched into my body by the man who pulled me out of my own dark place, he gave me a new life and taught me how to live. I - can stay for a time, and help you here, but eventually I will need to move on, and I do not know if you would wish to accompany me. That is your own decision. But for the immediate future, at the least, you have my hand.” He stood up, and lifted her up again, cradling her against his chest for a moment. While not the stick thin figure he originally thought she was, she was still far lighter than she should have been, and he had no trouble lifting her up.

    Slow, steady steps, with care taken not to jostle her, and he set her down on the bed. His dark eyes scanned the room, looking for the pile of clothes he had dropped when he returned - when he saw them, he picked them up and placed them on the bed beside her, then guided one of her hands onto it. They were simple clothes, white cotton shirt, black pants, and an emerald crushed velvet cape. While her hand rested on them, he spoke again.

    “You can get dressed. I will go get you some food.” He was already thinking about what to get. Red meats, to help rebuild what was lost to the tub. The tub. He would need to clean that out, to make sure the staff remained unaware of what happened here. The girl was already dealing with being ostracized for her blindness, she didn't need them having other reasons to look askance at her. If they tried, he would probably end up legitimately breaking down this building.

    But that wasn't a concern, for now. For now, he'd give the girl a little privacy unless she stopped him, and get her some food. He started to stand up slowly, to give her time to speak up before he left the room.

  4. #14
    Member

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    Name
    Aynur Ziva
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    Go with him? Have a companion? Not be alone…. Those thoughts appealed to Aynur, but - what good was she? She was nothing. She couldn’t even offer an extra pair of eyes or a warm meal. She could hear his slow footfalls move away from her, and with it the warmth he provided.

    “U-uh..I would.” She quickly said before she heard him close the door behind him to leave. There was a silence in the air, stilled and for a moment Aynur wasn’t sure if he was actually there or not. “Come with you- I mean. If it wouldn’t be a burden or a bother or I mean… I’m not, I can’t fight. I can’t see - but I want to learn to do things and I mean I guess I can’t do that if i just sit here I want to be more, I don’t.I ah…” She drew a deep breath and pressed her hands to her heated cheeks. Wasn’t this the exact scenario she found herself in last time?

    No...Lucifer had been an Ar’tuel, and she had followed him because she was certain she’d be able to aid him. This was different. She would need a few days at the very least to gain any semblance of strength. Even now she felt dizzy, lightheaded. “I -perhaps I should stay.” She mumbled. Tristain hadn’t replied.

    The click of the door signalled his departure and Aynur assumed she was now alone in the room. She couldn’t hear his footsteps. So she was alone, right?

    “What was I thinking…” She sighed as she gripped the clothing he had given her in her fists. He had just saved her life. Aynur knew she wanted… still, a part of her wants to die.. Aynur didn’t want to be here, to be a burden. She didn’t want to deal with this wretched life. Aynur pulled the clothing to her face and buried her nose into the soft fabric. They smelt as though they were freshly laundered. The broken girl managed a small laugh, god… I was so pathetic, I couldn’t even take my own life. I failed at the one thing that should have been the easiest. Dammit…

    Aynur pushed herself off the bed as she fumbled with the clothes. First, a long sleeved shirt with no buttons. she could feel a criss-cross pattern of cord in the front. They felt to be the typical thing a man would wear. Tristain got what he could. Aynur pulled it on over herself then followed suit with the pants. It felt weird...to have clean clothes. They were baggy but they suited. She picked up the last of the three articles he had given me. It felt heavy, plush...and nice between her fingers. It felt like a thick piece of material and took the woman several minutes to realize it was a cape.

    The warmth sunk into shivering flesh and Aynur wondered if she truly deserved such a thing. How long could this possibly last? How long before he was fed up with her? Aynur felt a heavy weight hit her chest like a tonne of bricks. It tore at her and she felt like she was drowning. She felt like she wasn’t in control. The only time she had control...

    Where were those scissors?

    She slowly made her way back to the bathroom and felt around for the cool metal. She’d feel better having them on her. Just in case. She found them….in the corner of the room and breathed a sigh of relief as her hands wrapped around the metal. Temptation ebbed at Aynur, to finish what she started. Her brows furrowed as she managed to find her way out of the bathroom and back to resting on the bed. Aynur bought her bare feet up to sit cross legged on the sheets.

    She began to open and close the scissors, listening to the ‘snip’, ‘snip’ sound. It’d...it’d be easier this time right? She’d just have to press harder -have to make them big enough so Tristain wouldn’t be able to fix it with a bandage.

    Aynur flicked the scissors open and pressed them to her skin, just enough for it to prickle. She winced at the slight pain and felt a small pool of wetness slide down her arm. She had drawn blood. Aynur pursed her lips. Dare she continue? The pain wouldn’t last forever…

    And…

    It’d be better than any sort of alternative.

    Aynur pressed again but stopped when the sound of Tristains voice filled her mind. His worried tone, the way he tried so hard to stop her wounds. The warmth of his skin, the shaking of his voice as he admitted he was once in a bad place.

    Then…

    His offer for her to join him.

    Even though she could barely stand, was blind… and virtually useless.

    He had offered.

    Aynur sighed and pulled the scissors away, hiding them in a deep pocket in her pants. No. She couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t have him walk in on a dying person. If she were to die, it’d be when she was alone.

  5. #15
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    Aegis's Avatar

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    995

    Name
    Tristain Edelven
    Age
    23
    Race
    Human
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    Male
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    Tristain drummed his fingers on the countertop as he glared impatiently at the matron of the inn, who had taken his order a few minutes ago. Although he had not shown a reaction to her when he had left, the mercenary was actually rather concerned for Aynur, and did not want to leave her alone for too long. So he had ordered whatever food would be finished the fastest that had meat in it, and was now waiting for it to come out. The matron, the same woman he had threatened earlier, was fidgeting nervously under his heavy glare.

    “Ye shouldn't stay too long with the girl, sir. She's not right you know, she just sits there when people -” the shrew of a woman began to speak, only to be cut off when Tristain's fingers gouged the wood they were tapping against.

    “Do not mistake the fact that I strive to be a good one, to mean that I am necessarily a kind man, matron. Your words imply that you have seen people abusing her before and done nothing - which says that you are a far worse person than she is. Be. Silent.” The mercenary punctuated his words by tearing his fingers out of the divots in the wooden counter that he had made. The woman blanched when she saw the blood that dripped from his fingertips, from thin pieces of wood that had cut into him.

    She was saved from having Tristain stare at her any longer by the ring of the bell that indicated his food was ready. The platter that he was handed had a thin, watery stew with, thankfully, hearty chunks of meat inside of it, along with carrots and potatoes, and other things that he couldn't recognize right away. Beside the bowl the stew rested in was a piece of bread, and a spoon. A small cup sat at the corner, holding some water. Tristain took the platter and dropped the payment on the counter before striding back to the room that Aynur was in.

    His legs carried him past rambunctious patrons going about their days - a few of them stopping to stare at the out of place, heavily armored individual in their midst - and up the stairs. Heavy boots thunked against the wood of the stairway, carrying him upwards to the second floor, and then long strides moved him down the thin carpet on the floor in the hall. It took a moment to adjust the platter so he could hold it in one hand without risking spilling it, so that he could pull out the key to the room. Tristain unlocked the door and pushed it open, and paused just inside the threshold.

    The smell of blood from earlier still hung in the air, fainter now, but still noticeable with its copper tang. The mercenary swiftly shut the door behind him - he did not want any of the other patrons of the inn to smell the blood before it had time to dissipate - then looked at the blind woman. She was staring vaguely off in one direction from the bed, though she had started to turn her head back towards him when she heard the door open and shut. That was not caught his attention though, what made him pause in his steps. No, what made him freeze up was the fresh patch of rusty red spreading across her arm and into the bandages and the fabric of her shirt - coming from a cut that had not been there before.

    He inhaled, deeply, then exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. It seemed that he would have to keep a close eye on her for the time being - something he should have already been doing, if he had been honest with himself. But Tristain had needed to get away and clear his head for a moment, to think about her response to his offer. Finally he spoke again, as he strode over to the bed.

    “It will be hard to eat with that open cut, girl.” His voice was gruff as he set the platter on the edge of the bed near her. He took her good hand and pressed it to the platter. “Stew, bread, water. Take care, or wait. I will be bandaging this wound as well.”

  6. #16
    Member

    EXP: 6,343, Level: 3
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    GP
    996

    Name
    Aynur Ziva
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    Once more, he was tending her wound, and once more, she couldn’t understand why. The cut this time hadn’t been that bad, and she had thought she had stopped in time to prevent him from noticing it. But he had - and once more, he was being oddly gentle as he took another bandage and wound it around her arm, pressing the edges of the cut together as he did so. “My offer is sincere, girl. I do not know if I will always be able to provide well, I am a mercenary after all. But as long as you wish it, I have no issue with you being at my side. The roads are far better to travel when there is company with you on them. Are you certain you wish to walk them with me?”

    “No. I am not. I'm scared. I'm worried I will be a burden. I know not of how to protect myself. I… will be a burden to you. I worry I will be left alone again.”. Her hand landed on the bread roll and she bought it up to her face and took a small bite.

    “I am not well enough to travel now…” She felt his hands tighten the fresh bandage on her arm, and he moved back. She heard the chair at the desk nearby creak as he sank into it, the wood beneath him groaning at the weight of his body and armor. He was silent for a moment, not immediately responding to what she had said, and she knew he was already planning on how to tell her he would be leaving her in that case.

    “Then I can wait, as I said I have time to spare here in town, I am on no schedule. If you wish to learn how to protect yourself, I can teach you - I was trained in a mercenary band, in a variety of things. And yes, you might be a burden - but it is one that I am willing to shoulder. I was of no use when the man who saved me found me, but he gave me the chance to make something of myself. I will do the same for you.” When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, and the rough, grating edge to it had finally smoothed out, leaving him a smooth, deeper tone that coiled in her ears like a warm blanket.


    Aynur smiled as she set the half eaten bread on the bed in front of her, completely missing the tray of food. “I would… Like that…”

    There was a long silence between the two before Aynur broke it.

    “I wish…” She pushed herself off the bed and shuffled over toward him. Stopping only when her feet hit the chair and she reached out to brace her fall. Small hands landed on the metallic pauldrons on his shoulders. She heard a confused grunt as he caught her elbows and steadied her as she fell against him. He was sitting with one leg crossed over his other knee,. Aynur quickly pulled away and smoothed down her cape. She was trying to be nice, trying to offer some form of sentimentality. Of course she'd mess even that up. One of his arms gently wrapped around her waist, anchoring her in place so she couldn't fall off.

    Aynur turned her face away, tugging on chocolate brown tendrils. “I… I want to see again, so maybe I can see my friend.” There was a pause, then he let out a breath that sounded faintly amused. His hands shifted from her elbows to one of her wrists, and he guided her hand up to his face.

    “You have other ways of knowing the world around you, girl. Do not sell yourself short just yet, before you learn what you can do.”

    Her fingers danced delicately over his face she felt a little embarrassed, was this considered intimate? Aynur wasn't entirely sure. His eyebrows were thick with wisps of hair jutting out and he didn't feel Iike he had too many wrinkles..so he was younger than he sounded. Aynur thought he may be in his mid 30’s

    “I… oh I thought you were older…” He let out a sharp bark of a laugh, a sound that started deep in his chest.

    Her hands continued to trace down his face, ignoring the rumblings in his features as he laughed. It wasn't her fault. “it's your voice!” she muttered.

    “I typically do not speak much, I prefer to listen. It leaves me - a bit rusty, at times.” His voice, and face, showed clear amusement as he spoke. Her fingers kept wandering as he explained the roughness to his tone. His nose was crooked, and she felt stubble then a scar just on the side of his lip. He felt like he was smiling.

    Aynur quickly pulled away when her fingers brushed against the soft skin of his lips. Cursing herself. That may have been too much. “I Uhm.. Sorry.”

    She could feel Tristain’s arms gripping her own, one to steady her and the other holding near the second cut. She felt guilty about it. She caused him more concern.

  7. #17
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    Aegis's Avatar

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    Name
    Tristain Edelven
    Age
    23
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    Human
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    Corone

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    “You have nothing to apologize for. Now then.” Tristain stood up smoothly, shifting his arms to hold Aynur. He strode back over to the bed and gently deposited her back down, and stood near the head of the bed. He let one hand rest on her shoulder, clasping it gently.

    “You, Aynur, need two things in the immediate future. Food, and rest. I will be here, you need not worry about that. So eat as much as you can of the stew and bread, then allow yourself to rest. You are safe. I will let nothing else happen to you today.” His tone was stern, but not harsh, as he took one of her hands and guided it to the platter resting on the bed near her.

    “And if you have any other questions, do not hesitate to ask. I have few things I will refuse to talk about. And for your information - I have only seen twenty three winters all told, not that I remember the earliest ones.”


    She struggled to eat the stew, hand trembling as she did her best not to spill something couldn't see. Giving up, Aynur instead picked up the bowl and ate directly from it, tilting it to her mouth to eat. He shook his head slightly, his hair swaying as he did so. He would have to remember in the future to purchase things that were simpler to eat, until she had regained confidence in herself.

    “We… Are similar in age… “she mused. More silence as she slowly struggled to eat her stew. “I can… tell you about myself If you do not like talking. It is the least I can do.” Tristain tilted his head to one side and considered her offer. In all truth he would prefer it if she talked - her own voice was far more pleasant to listen to than his own, to him at least, and his throat was already feeling a bit sore from all the speaking he had done of late. Still -

    “Share only what you are comfortable with speaking about. I will listen, and will not judge you.” He settled himself down on the edge of the bed the had noticed that she seemed to desire knowing where he was, and preferred that knowledge came by having some form of physical contact with him. When she finally spoke, the words seemed to be dredged up almost against her will.

    “Do… You think it foolish I hold no will for the damage down to my body? The man who tortured me… He claimed he loved me then left. He tore holes in my skin and burnt me. Had my eyes ripped out and yet… I Can't seem to find anger in my heart.” He was silent in response to that. She spun the bowl in her hands.

    “I don't wish harm on anyone. I was told by him that was my biggest weakness. That I was unable to understand or Harbour hate.” Tristain sat back on the bed, and reached one hand up to run his fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face as he contemplated her words. He chewed on the inside of his mouth for a moment before she spoke up again, distracting him.

    She looked in his direction. “I was told I had ice blue eyes before they were ripped out. What color are yours?”

    “I - brown. My eyes are brown.” He blinked. “And I would not say not knowing hate is a weakness. Hate is not necessary for violence something I know well. Sometimes, one does violence out of - affection. A need to protect something, against those who would harm it. And as for your first question.” He drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

    “No. I do not think it is foolish, at all. I - my father was not a good man. Not to me, at least. He is the one who drove me to the actions you almost carried out earlier. And yet, I cannot hate him myself. Rather - I wish nothing to do with him at all. I would be content never hearing word of him again, but at the same time… I would be sad to learn he had died. He is, was, my father, for whatever that was worth, once.”

    She offered him a smile and reached out to place a hand on his knee to comfort him. It took three tries till she actually managed to find his knee instead of the bed. Aynur offered him a smile. “I think he would be proud of the man you have become. Tristain let out a sharp bark of a laugh.

    “I doubt that. He was far more like that drunk I stopped from accosting you, than he was like me. I make some choices about how to act to be precisely counter to how he would have been.” She subsided for a moment, unsure of how to respond to that response - or to the bitter tone that laid behind it. Eventually she pressed on, her words pulling Tristain out of his mire of thought.

    “I lived in a sect.. Amidst the Dheathain mountains. This world is so new… Would you believe I didn't even know what running water was till a year ago? We all bathed in the natural springs.. “ she smiled faintly at the memory. Tristain’s right eyebrow rose. That was a bit odd, he hadn’t known of any groups living out in that region. Then again, it wasn’t like his education, spotty as it had been before the Danse, had really included comprehensive information about the world around him.

    “I see. Then some of the things people take for granted around here are a bit… surprising, to you?” He mused softly, studying her face as her emotions danced across it. Perhaps it was because of her blindness, but she seemed to wear her heart on her face for the world to see.

  8. #18
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    “Yes!” Aynur said exasperated, she felt Tristain jolt from the sudden loud outburst. “I was so ill prepared. I was supposed to go on a pilgrimage and… And… And I knew nothing! I didn't know about things like fancy food or… or…”

    She trailed off as she struggled to remember. It was difficult. Why? Why did lucifer do those things to her? The excitement quickly wore off. “Lucifer did some sort of magic. He forced me to live a lifetime of false memories and…I get confused. The time before he put me under it is. Blur.”

    She felt the bed shift as the man near her adjusted his weight. “That is… strange. An unpleasant fellow, it seems. I am sorry to hear that. Have you tried to return to the sect’s grounds? Perhaps returning to familiar environs would jog your old memories.”

    She shook her head. “It's.. Stupid.. You think one would be able to differentiate the memories but I can't. It felt so real. I suffered so much and now I have to live it all again.”

    “It is not stupid, girl. Magics that affect the mind are potent, and it sounds like this man knew precisely what he was doing. Given time, I am sure you will be able to separate the real from the fake, but expecting it of yourself immediately, without support, is - unreasonable. Especially if you have had no one to rely on to keep you grounded in the present as you try to work out your past.”

    Aynur face scrunched up. She felt like her insides were being torn. She moved her hand away from his knee to wrap around her waist. She could feel herself shaking and her eyes sting. His words were so simple yet impossible for her. She wouldn't have that. “Even if I did go home I may be… unwelcome. My entire life was indebted to a deity I found to be false. My people. My entire reason of living… “ Aynur tried to move on when she found Alkieth nothing more than an eternal man.

    “Easy, easy girl.” The bed swayed, and she felt arms wrap around her shoulder, and she was pulled into an awkward embrace, against the hard armor that Tristain was still wearing. “You are welcome at my side. I did not mean to imply you needed to go back permanently, but a visit. If you do not wish that, then I will leave the matter alone. If your memories of the past are unretrievable, then we will simply have to give you new ones - the proper way, by living.”

    Aynur tried, she tried so hard to hold it back but couldn't. The tears came hard and fast, salty streams staining her face with ache and regret. “I can't…” She sobbed, and between those sobs she explained that she was the oracle. Chosen because she had a near perfect fertility rate with the AR’Tuel species. She cried as she confessed lucifer was one of them, an he had laid eith her and if she was indeed pregnant.. She would soon die for that was to be her sacrifice.

    Aynur pulled away from the man, hiccuping and gulping back tears. She couldn't do this to him. She should just leave. She shifted off the bed and to the floor.

    “Well then. I suppose we will have to handle that if - and I do mean if - it happens. The offer to walk beside me is - taken back. You do not have the option anymore, because I do not think it safe for you to be alone. No, you are stuck with me.” She heard him stand, his boots thudding heavily against the ground.

    “I.. I do not think… Th-that fair.” That short, sharp laugh came from him again.

    “Life is rarely fair, Aynur.” She had noticed that even though he knew it, he rarely used her name. “You have experienced bad turns time and again alone. That, was unfair. You were driven to the last point of desperation, that, was unfair. Now, you have a friend and companion. Good things can happen too, it is not just bad ones that life will give.” She felt his hand grip her shoulder, a solid, firm grasp.

    Aynur wrenched herself away, or tried to. His grip on her shoulder was strong. “stop that…” She muttered as she wiped her tears away on the oversized cotton shirt. “Stop… Stop saying things…” If he kept saying such things with such an even and kind voice she would eventually start to believe them. Aynur tried to back away from him.

    “Speech is something I tend to dislike, you are not wrong. But actions speak louder.You are safe, Aynur. Now then.” Without warning, she felt his hand leave her shoulder - and then heavy steps away, towards the door. She heard the lock click, and then something odd. The sound of straps and buckles popping and shifting, and then a slight groan. A heavy thump, oddly metallic, came from near the door. “There. I feel much lighter without that armor on.” She had a feeling he said that purely for her benefit. Why take off his armor? A few more thumps followed. “Alright. I will be in the bath for the next few minutes, I need to remove some of the grime of the road. You should get some rest.”

    What was his plan? Actions speak louder than words? She found his footsteps much quieter without the armor. So much so that she struggled to hear him. She couldn't be a burden on him. A large part of her wanted to stay To just have the warmth of another and to have someone listen to her stories, her songs...but if she got accustomed to that it’d just hurt more when it was taken away from her.

    Aynur waited a few moments till she heard running water then pushed herself up off the floor. No one would stop her if she were to leave. She was hated. They’d be more than willing to have her throw herself back on the streets.

  9. #19
    Member

    EXP: 2,130, Level: 2
    Level completed: 5%, EXP required for next Level: 2,870
    Level completed: 5%,
    EXP required for next Level: 2,870


    Aegis's Avatar

    GP
    995

    Name
    Tristain Edelven
    Age
    23
    Race
    Human
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone

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    Tristain stared down at the water as it swirled into the tub. Despite his words to her, he wasn’t actually going to be getting into the bath - he wanted to be able to react if he heard his armor being moved. Instead he was just planning on stripping down and scrubbing himself next to the bath. He had also not been entirely honest with her about why he was taking the bath. While he truly did need to remove some travel dust, the real reason was to get himself away from her because he did not know how to handle a crying woman. The women of the Danse had all been rather rough and tumble sort, and he couldn’t remember them ever crying where he could see. He exhaled softly, and closed his eyes as water poured into the tub.


    Sounds of movement came from the next room, sniffles and bumps, and he paused, his head tilting towards the door so he could hear better. Was she trying to leave? There was a bang against the other side of the wall followed by a pained sound and an exclamation. “Ough..”
    and he frowned before shaking his head slightly, sighing as he realized she had apparently walked into a wall. She had been right by the bed - why hadn’t she gone for that, instead? It was right there. At least she wasn’t going for the door, not yet - he had left his armor scattered in front of it, balanced against each other so if they were moved they would clatter about.

    When silence came, he closed his eyes again and turned back to the tub. He cut the flow of water, and dunked his head into the water, immersing himself in the water. The mercenary wanted to do this first, so he could be ready to react sooner. He had a few moments, he was sure. When he came back out, he didn’t process right away that the door between the rooms had been pushed open, nor that light was spilling in.

    Her shadow blocked the light from the other room as she entered the bathroom. Hands on either side of the doorway. “Tristain?” She was staring right at him. He froze in place, his own eyes widening as he glanced down. His clothes were laying in a pile beside him.. His face, neck, and upper shoulders flushed red under her unblinking gaze.

    “Ah- uh - wha- I am nake-” Right. She couldn’t see that. Tristain cut himself off. His blush deepened, and he cleared his throat. “What do you need, girl?” He tried to keep his embarrassment from creeping into his words. By the Thaynes, he’d been naked around the Danse before - they rarely had any care or concern for who was in the baths. But that was different, it was usually groups, never a one on one situation like this. He swallowed, and stepped around the tub, placing it between himself and Aynur, silently.

    She walked forward. “I heard you?” She carefully shuffled forward. “look...I just...maybe I should leave. I-Ahg..” She hit the side of the tub, faltered, then grabbed the rim. His hand shot out and clasped her bicep, steadying her and preventing her from unbalancing. She looked up at him again with her milky unrelenting gaze. She was close. He could see the tiny freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose, the way her skin glistened. Stained by tears. The broken capillaries in her red-rimmed eyes.

    “You do not have to, girl. You need help, and a shoulder to lean on. Perhaps once you have recovered, and are in a better place, we can part ways. But you do not truly wish to leave, do you?” It was a struggle to keep his voice even and calm, but Tristain somehow pulled it off. He thanked whoever was listening that she couldn't see him at the moment, else he might have died of mortification.

    She reached out with her other hand, it fell into empty space and her eyes widened. “Oh… you haven’t bathed yet…” She must have assumed he was still clothed.

    “Not yet, no.” Milky eyes regarded him for a moment, then dropped to where his hand held onto her arm.

    “I’m tired…” She admitted as she circled the tub toward him. He swallowed once, and cast his eyes about for at least his pants - but they were by her feet, on the other side of the tub, and she was holding onto his outstretched arm for support as she moved. A step, and she was on the same side of the tub as he was, then she carefully slide her hand up to his shoulder. “I just...want to..to…” She paused and shifted her weight. “You...are not clothed?”

    “No.” His voice was tight, strangled. She was close now, close enough that he could count the tiny freckles dotting her face.

    The woman offered him a small, forced smile. “I can’t see. I do not notice these things. I apologise… nudity was never regarded as a taboo in my home. We all bathed together.” She carefully let him go and took a step back. She didn’t look embarrassed, nor put off by the fact.

    “I… Am aware. Hence why I did not make an issue of it. It is fine, Aynur. You can spend time here and rest. Recover. Get your bearings.”

    “I was...just …” She said softly. Aynur pulled away from his grasp and took a step back. Her heel landed on a puddle of water and her eyes widened in shock as she tried to brace herself. She slipped forward, tumbling into Tristain. Without thinking about it, the mercenary shifted slightly, twisting himself and catching her. Her head thumped against his chest, and her fingers scrabble for a second against his ribs as she tried to catch herself before realizing she was safe. He could feel her trembling body pressed tight into his. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

    “Easy, easy. You do not need to be sorry, it was an accident.” He held onto her for a moment as she recovered her bearings, then helped her stand back up straight. He took her uninjured wrist in his hand and guided her back around the tub, to the door to the room. “Go, sit or lay down on the bed. Get some rest.” He gave a sigh of relief when she agreed to be lead to the bed and climbed in. Clothes and all. The man shook his head slightly, bemused, before making his way back to the tub. He still had to wash off, and get dressed again.

    And give himself a little time away from her. Aynur was stirring up a confusing tumult of emotions, and Tristain wanted to let them settle. He took a slow breath as he closed the door most of the way, leaving a crack so he could hear if she tripped, or called out, then moved to the tub and began scrubbing himself.

    It took some time, and when he was finished, the water was distinctly cool. Tristain let it swirl down the drain, carrying away some of the mix of emotions. The ache in his heart had faded,she was safe, and had not ended herself. And hopefully, would not try again any time soon. He could deal with the other emotions later. He smoothly got dressed and stepped back outside, feet padding across the ground near silently, and he paused.

    For all her insecurities when awake she looked pleasantly peaceful in her sleep. She slept on her back, one arm draped across her stomach. Her hair, still matted and patchy fell around her small round face. As he drew closer she stirred, groaned then shifted. Rolling over to the side of the bed, leaving a wide space behind her. He shook his head slightly - they did not know each other well enough for him to feel comfortable sharing a bed with her, even if they were both dressed.

    Instead, he gently pushed her back onto her back, ignoring her sleepy mumbles, and plopped himself down on the floor, his back resting against one of the walls. The floor was at least mostly clean, so he had definite slept in worse conditions. He didn't sleep right away though, instead staring ahead as his mind churned and turned. Taking on a second person would add onto his travels, would make earning a name for himself a bit more difficult - but as he had said, he could not ignore someone who needed the same help that he had once so desperately needed.

    Not without being unable to look his surrogate father in the eye, if and when he returned to the Danse. These thoughts chased each other around in his head as he sat there, listening to Aynur shift and stir every so often in her sleep. When sleep finally overtook him, it did so subtly, without warning, drawing him into its dark embrace without a whisper.

  10. #20
    upon the cheek of night

    EXP: 224,444, Level: 20
    Level completed: 0%, EXP required for next Level: 0
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    Breaker's Avatar

    GP
    38,725

    Name
    Joshua Breaker Cronen
    Age
    30
    Race
    Demigod
    Gender
    Male
    Location
    Corone
    Thread Title: who Saves a Damsel These Days?
    Participants: Aegis and Aynur
    Basic Rewards

    Aegis receives 1215 EXP and 165 GP!
    Aynur receives 1200 EXP and 150 GP!

    Congratulations!
    Last edited by Breaker; 06-12-2018 at 02:38 PM.
    "The breeze did not stir. The stars did not twinkle. The trees did not sway and the brook did not babble.
    For the world did not turn when Am'aleh wept, and a tear had tumbled down her cheek."


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