Time to Go Hunting

[Morjiana]

Very occasionally Morjiana got out the crystal ball that had belonged to women in her family for generations. It was a treacherous tool that told lies and truth in equal measure, but more often told nothing at all, or only small fragments of possibilities with undecipherable meanings. This time, she decided it was worth trying because she wanted to know only what had happened, not what was to come. She settled the heavy globe in its pedestal on the small, cloth draped table in her vardo, then settled herself in the impressive carved chair that took up too much room to be practical. It did help persuade others of her powers though, particularly when her powers were less than fully functional for the day. With a deep breath, she fastened her gaze on the ball and willed her mind to be still. For long moments, the ball showed her nothing more than the light of her candles flickering in its depths. She waited patiently, and finally a thin thread of red began to wind through the ball. It spread like blood on water until the globe had taken on a crimson color through and through, and Morjiana had the tang of iron on her tongue. She licked her lips but the taste remained, clearly part of the vision she'd been granted. It told her very little as she rose and turned away from the crystal ball, casually throwing a scarf over it, but it was enough. Blood had been spilled that did not belong to the xanthareels, and in quantity. The time of waiting in safety was over. She threw a collection of bandages and ointments in to a small bag and set out for the battlefield at the time.

It took time to get there, more than she'd wanted, and by the time Morjiana arrived she was afraid she might be too late. Her healing skills were small and if there were folk here too close to death, she'd not be able to keep them on this side of the veil. Her gaze darted about, vigilant for the signs of xanthareels. The only ones she saw were dead. Beyond the dull gleam of a particularly large xanthareel's scaley corpse, a glint of gold drew Morjiana forward. A girl lay there, one she recognized as Nikola. Her aura was thin but threaded with glints and sparks that made Morjiana think there was more to her than met the eye, more than simply the lingering will to live that was evident in the uneven rise and fall of the girl's chest with her ragged breathing. Morjiana applied bandage and pressure to the worst of the wounds she could find immediately. It was bad, but not so bad as to justify the girl's condition. The seer was unable to find other injuries that explained Nikola's condition, so she was left with few other options than to dig in her bag with one hand until she retrieved a bottle labeled "Spirit of Hartshorn". Constantly keeping pressure over the worst wound, Morjiana used her teeth to work the cork free of the bottle, her nose wrinkling at the acrid smell following the cork's release. She held the bottle gingerly a few inches from Nikola's nose, hoping it would be enough to rouse the girl so Morjiana could better assess her injuries.

[Nikola]

Nikki was floating in a sea of darkness. No light was reflected on the surface of the darkness and she could feel nothing. Smell nothing. Strike that. She could smell something and it was awful. As the odor drew closer, Nikki flinched.

Pain returned in an instant as Nikki gasped for air, turning her nose away from the acrid smell. The movement made her muscles ache in protest and she reached a hand out clumsily to push the stench away. She felt a curious mix of glass and flesh as her hand came into contact with the instrument of her reawakening. She opened her eyes and shut them again, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun climbing higher into the mid-morning sky.

Attached to the hand was an arm and the arm was attached quite securely, she was relieved to see, to a living being. This one had not been part of the attack, yet she looked familiar. It took the blonde a moment to remember having met her in the tavern recently. One of Aishe’s family members, she thought. She blinked a few times to clear her memory until a name came to her.

“Morjiana?” she asked hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

[Morjiana]

"Trying to figure out how you're not dead," Morjiana replied drily. She lifted the bandage briefly, but quickly resumed applying pressure to the wound when she was met with a quick surge of blood. "Why won't the bleeding slow?" she asked herself irritably as she scanned the girl again for an explanation. Nikola's aura was a bit more defined now that she was conscious, still threaded with the odd sparks and glints that Morjiana couldn't decipher. They were unlike anything she'd seen before. The aura almost seemed to whisper to her, to pull her in to study it further until she could discern its source. She dragged her attention back to more urgent matters purely by will. There was a darkness near the wound, a small pin prick of deep night in Nikola's aura. Whatever caused that, it had to be the source of the problem. She hovered her free hand over it to try to sense any difference, but could learn nothing more. "Is there more pain here?" she asked Nikola.

[Nikola]

What did she mean, was there pain there? Where wasn’t there pain? Nikki almost growled at the woman but instead howled in pain as a stab of heat, like burning coals, tore through her chest as the woman’s hand hovered over her. She knew the heat of her own internal fire and this was something very different. He own fire soothed her, could fill every muscle, vein and cell without harm. This burned as though a brand had been plunged into her very heart. She reached up to grab Morjiana’s wrist and though she had little strength left to her, the pain leant a boost to that small measure. Pulling the woman’s hand aside a fraction, she gasped.

“What are you doing? Trying to kill me? Wasn’t I already dead enough?”

[Aishe]

OOC: Permission to godmod Mallory.


The vampire's gaze first fell on the tussled light hair of her little half-sister. Mallory was only a few steps away. Aishe was still for a moment, trying to gauge if the girl was alive by any movement of her chest despite the pounding in her skull. It was a delayed thought that neither of them actually needed to breathe, even if breathing was a more comfortable action than not. Likewise, a heartbeat would be absent, alive or dead.

Lips pursed, she rose to her feet with a mild stagger, shaking her head clear of uneasiness. It was then that her aunt appeared to come out of thin air. Aishe gave a mere nod in recognition, knowing full well the woman's presence would prove useful. Kneeling again, this time beside Mallory, her eyes examined the wounds before giving her a gentle shake.

Mele, wake up. The command was quiet, accompanied by a brisk pat of the cheek. A groan was given in response, putting a faint smile on Aishe's lips. Good girl. You'll be okay, your wounds will heal.

Mallory was young, particularly as a vampire. She could only imagine how awful the girl felt in this moment. Aishe had a mild fire in her veins for need of blood, a deeper burn in her throat. Mallory was likely experiencing far worse. They were both in need of blood, which would help them make a swifter, easier recovery and ease their pain. It was a small hope that peasants would come near to the battle grounds to check things out, so they could get blood sooner than later. Until then, however, Aishe inhaled sharply and urged her fangs to extend before biting into her own flesh. Blood drawn, her hand extended to Mallory and gave little time for any objections before the bleeding hand was pressed to her sister's mouth.

There was a type of euphoria that came for their race of vampirism, when feeding on one another. It was a mutual thing, though far stronger for the one feeding. She had only experienced it once, when she was first turned - Lucifer had insisted her first meal be his blood so she did not kill anyone else in the tavern like he did her that night. A flurry of tingling sensation shot through her body, a quiet sigh passing her lips as her tense body relaxed. A sharp pain quickly followed, however, reminding her that she was in no state to 'donate' too much blood. She cleared her throat, dazed eyes opening wide and alert.

Time to stop. The beckoning fell on deaf ears, as could be expected from both such a wounded vampire and one so young. The use of force seemed to be the route she'd have to go. So, Aishe used her free hand to push Mallory down while pulling her other back. There was resistance, but it was brief as Aishe was much stronger than her little sister, even in current states. She let up her other hand, leaning away while she wiped the lingering blood onto her trousers. Take your time. Stay down. I've got to check on the others.

The toll of her good deed bore down on her as she stood up, balance lost and head exploding. At times, it was hard to remember that she had limits despite her heart's desire to help. Her eyes squeezed tight for a moment to gather herself, but the cry of Nikola brought them open. Without thinking, she darted over to her aunt and friend, who now seemed to be at odds. Aishe couldn't be sure what was happening, but she certainly knew Morjiana wasn't try to kill anyone. The situation seemed off.

What's wrong?

[Morjiana]

Morjiana shifted her free hand away from the dark space and spared a glance for her niece before locking her eyes on the girl in front of her to better assess the injury. "I'm not sure," she said with a frown. "She's injured, but something isn't right. This shouldn't be so bad."

Morjiana looked up once more and scanned the dead xanthareels in the area. She knew little about their breed, but they seemed unremarkable so far as she could tell. Most were darkened in spots with filth from the mines, all showed signs of battle. A few had scrapings of salt or splinters of iron or shattered pieces of lumber stuck in their scales from their passage in the mines, in places where they'd not have been able to easily pry them free. Morjiana pursed her lips as she considered the likely damage to the mines, then her eyes narrowed as an idea came to her.

She lifted the hand applying pressure to the wound and studied it as well as she could with the fresh flow of blood that came with the release of the pressure. There might be some foreign object in there, but she couldn't be sure. If there was something lodged in the wound, all her choices were fraught with risk. She could leave it and hope to have a more skilled healer in town remove it, but moving Nikola to town could cause the object to shift to a more dangerous spot, possibly even killing her. She could try to remove it here on the battlefield, but that would simply put Nikola at risk for dying in the filth of the field with a lesser healer than might be required.

Morjiana looked up at Aishe again. "Your senses are... different," she said to her niece with a hint of distaste. "Can you tell if there's anything in the wound?"

[Nikola]

She hurt all over, but her chest was on fire. When she was in the blessed darkness, there had been no pain, or at least no awareness of such. She longed to return to that place now. She was barely aware of another presence next to Morjiana, a voice that seemed distantly familiar. She was unaware of the flow blood from the wound, only of the intense pain as of a living burning ember of coal, searing her flesh. She writhed in agony, feeling that ember burrow more deeply into her flesh. She threw her head back against the ground and howled her pain.

[Mallory]

Pain. There was a lot of pain. Did the eel looking creatures cut her throat and stomach? Slowly her hands roamed her body as she tried to get her eyes to open. She heard her sister's voice, but her own did not seen keen to reply though when her body was jostled she quickly found a sound being made nothing quite sounding like words. The smell that hit her next was the most appealing thing she had ever smelled. Then her mind made the connection. She detested her new diet and went to move her head. Little choice, however, was given to her. The first sip had her craving more and she drank deeply, every piece of her being focused on the nourishment. When Aishe pushed her head back she blinked up at her, she tried to say thank you but the words would not come. Her body felt very strange, almost like she could feel it changing. She let the weird feeling move over her and waited until it passed before trying to move again, this time she made it to sitting and started looking around. People had fallen, she had no idea what to do to help so she simply stayed still.

[Aishe]

Morjiana's uncertainty only aided to the alarm Aishe felt. It was not because Morjiana was some sort of renown healer, but because her aunt's presence often gave her a sense of security and assurance... Much like any child to their elder. Her eyes drifted down to the wound, forcing herself to withhold the habit of breathing. The iron scent could easily overwhelm her in her current state, especially given the random bouts of no humanity that occasionally reared its monstrous head. Nikola did not look to be in good state, to say the least.

The howl of pain caused Aishe to flinch, her sensitive ears ringing thereafter. For a moment, she thought she heard her aunt's request differently. After all, Aishe was far from a healer and Morjiana was far from accepting of her being. Meeting the woman's eyes confirmed she had heard right, her face paling more if at all possible. Uncomfortably, Aishe leaned towards Nikola, trying to use her sight to see through the spillage of blood. It proved fruitless, pushing her to do something she wasn't sure she could safely do... Breathe.

Willing herself with all her strength and determination, her head inclined even closer to the wound before she inhaled deeply through her nose. The scent of blood was as could be expected - overwhelming. Her fangs began to protrude onto her lower lip, bright blue eyes growing hazy. The ringing in her ears was now replaced by the frantic, erratic beat of Nikola's heart. The sound of dying and easy prey.

Even then, her will was not lost. The beast inside her that wanted out desperately fought against the cage of her humanity, rattling her to the very core while her eyes snapped back into focus. Again, her breath was held, but she did not lean away. Instead, a slender hand passed Morjiana's bloodied. Her fingers disappeared into the pool of blood for only a brief moment, fishing through the torn flesh in search of the scent she had caught. The faint sound of blood flow was obscured in a spot it should not be, given her familiarity with a human's anatomy. Surely, it had to be the problem. It only took mere seconds, but time felt slowed in that moment before her hand withdrew, fingers pinching a piece of solid iron. She couldn't help but give a victorious grin, dropping the iron into Morjiana's hand.

The smile was quick to drop though, full well knowing that Nikola's life could still be lost despite the removal. Aishe gave her friend a brief caress, hoping to offer reassurance, before standing and hastily retreating. She may have won the initial battle against the vampire in her, but she did not trust herself to remain at Nikola's side. Instead, her eyes wandered for another that needed her help... Hopefully someone who wasn't profusely bleeding.

[Nikola]

Nikki was delirious, on the precipice of death, although she could not have known it, nor did she understand what was happening to her. She longed to return to that place of darkness and silence, a void without pain or feeling. That seemed barred to her now as something deadly burrowed closer to her heart. Something new joined that pain, pushing it further in before blessedly, it was gone. At least the excruciating effects seemed to be lessened. The unholy fire that had seared her was quenched, leaving only the smoldering remains of the damage that had been done.

She lay still as death, her breathing shallow, her heart beat faint. She no longer writhed in pain. The wound still bled, but with the iron removed, her blood began to clot as it was designed to do and the flow of blood slowed as the healing began. The ground upon which she lay shifted beneath her body, resulting in a crater that surrounded her as thought the earth itself cradled her and drew her into its bosom. She was aware of none of this nor of anything outside herself. Rather than darkness, she now floated in a sea of pure light. She saw nothing. Knew nothing. Only light and the soft caress of the earth as if a pillow beneath her.

As her mind drifted in the light, the earth leant her body its own healing power, repairing the slashes and wounds that covered much of her body. The wound that had so recently been seared by iron was made to purge itself of the remains of that searing, sending the tiny flecks that remained out of her body with the blood that still flowed until all that remained was clean and healthy muscle and sinew. There was much to heal, and more than just her body.

Her mind wandered aimlessly over the years of her life. Memories old and new played together and pulled at her heartstrings. Some were good and happy memories. More were not. There had been so much pain, so much loss, so much disappointment. Even in this blessed sea of light the grief threatened to overwhelm her.

The light grew stronger, the synapses in her brain began to crackle and spark as another type of healing began to take place. She had a brief sense that a hand was guiding the process, sealing away her memories as her mother had done years before when she was but a child. The memories gradually faded until all that remained was light. Light and earth. The earth bound her to this life while the light filled her so completely that nothing else remained. Light and earth. Earth and Light.

The light grew stronger, filling every vein and artery, every cell and muscle. Nerve bundles were firing in arcs of pure golden light as it grew. The light continued to grow and expand even after there was no place left for it to fill. It spilled out of her, curling around her as living shadows might do only this was the opposite of shadow. The light withdrew from around her into her core and for a moment all seemed normal again. The girl lay quiet and unmoving within a crater of earth, yet the earth seemed to be holding his breath.