Extra 7: Morning of the Exhausted

The weak rays of the early morning sun diffused throughout the valley, the gentle light a far cry from the omnipresent sunshine Shreshka knew from her home.

In the background, she could still hear the quiet mumblings of her companion, raving about things unseen to her in a quiet, broken voice.

If it weren't for the third eye implanted into his forehead, many would have thought him insane.

But Shreshka didn't mind the inane rambling, it was the most quiet she had heard since Hureheh had woken up, nothing compared to the piercing screams that had woken her and Retlafeh, even in their poison-induced slumber.

Even now, despite the refreshing forest air and biting chill on her skin, a bone deep tiredness sunk into Shreshka’s bones, the kind of tiredness that could only come from facing death and escaping by the breadth of a hair.

For what felt like the hundredth time that morning, Shreshka considered how they had survived the fog, the shiny blue coin in her hand feeling as though it weighed more than an anvil.

Shreshka had always wondered why Star-Silver was so valuable, but now it seemed almost as if its value was understated.

The sheer power that had to be contained even in such a small coin to be able to amplify a spell of such little power to such extreme heights, it was almost impossible.

Once again, their saviour had given a greater blessing than could have ever been repaid.

But now they faced an decision, either they could keep the coin for its magical abilities or they could continue with their original plan and sell it.

A large part of Shreshka itched to keep it, to re-live that euphoric feeling of magic exploding from her again and again.

To evolve from a lowly slave to a respected magi, restore herself to the power she once possessed.

But she knew that wasn't going to happen, as it was, the coin provided far too much value for them, poor and hunted as they were, and Shreshka only knew a single spell of very little power.

It would be a waste on her, but on the name of Orsha she wanted to keep it.

She hid the slab of metal in the folds of her tattered clothing, lest she get tempted to test it out again.

Eager to distract herself and unwilling to comfort the whimpering pile of misery behind her any more than she already had, she turned her intention instead to the alien world around her.

This wasn't her first trip into Carariag, the home of the simple-landers, but it was the first time where she was able to see the world with no threat of a whip on her back and that alone magnified the surroundings tenfold.

The whole universe seemed to be carpeted in a healthy green, from the foggy valleys to the snow capped peaks, trees, grass, moss and shrubs carpeted everything in sight.

And from the dew covered pine needles and babbling books, glints of azure sunlights twinkled like a perfect night sky, the likes of which she had only seen a single time in her homeland right after the rainstorm which had blessed her as a child.

She tried to dismiss those memories, wishing for a simpler time was against the will of Orsha.

Then again, she was well out of her god’s realm now.

A gentle breeze carried the chirps of birds and swaying of branches, creating a constant rustle accented only by the occasional call of an animals mysterious to Shreshka.

From the earth and from the air wafted smells of fresh pine, damp wood and petrichor, combining into a sharp smell which drove the chill of the early morning into her lungs just as much as her bones.

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They would need to find better clothes soon, she wasn't suited to the cold.

Shreshka returned to the cave, hoping to preserve their warmth and check up on their companion.

The moment they passed the threshold, the reality of the outside world vanished, replaced by a wholly different menagerie.

The walls and ceiling were formed of a brownish rock, sharply contrasting the blue-grey of the mountains and boulders outside, this irregularity taken even further by veins of an odd yellow metal.

The cave was dark and deep, its recesses only lit by what little light reflected from the golden-bronze impurities in the walls.

But beyond any of this, what Shreshka found most odd of all was the all encompassing dust.

She might have been wrong, but Shreshka was under the impression that in cold, wet climates dust didn't tend to build up like it did back in her home.

Why then, in this odd little cave was there such a large deposit of brown, fine dust that every step kicked up a choking tornado of the stuff.

Indeed, there was so much that the former slave was near certain that, if she dared, she could probably bury herself below it all and never be seen again.

It was a scary thought, but one Shreshka didn't have to think on for long, as the sound of footsteps slowly faded into range.

A jolt of dread shot through the woman’s veins, despite her very well knowing that it was Retlafeh returning with supplies, some habits were hard to break.

Their companion had left just before the sun to find food, water and fire, insisting Shreshka stay behind in case Hureheh broke from their fugue.

Both of them knew that was unlikely to happen anytime soon, if ever, it was rare for one touched by a god to make sense of things with any kind of speed.

Not that either of them had much experience in that area.

In truth, Shreshka thought that Retlafeh was just trying to give her time to rest, as if he didn't need it just as much as her.

The older man approached, dragging the carcass of some large beast that the woman was unfamiliar with with one hand and a bundle of dry wood over his shoulder.

Shreshka rushed down to help and after a few moments, they were both safely in the mouth of the cave.

The younger of the two expressed surprise at the size of Retlafeh’s prey, asking how exactly it had been caught, but the stoic man gave an excuse of a makeshift spear and prior experience in catching beasts of this size.

Shaking her head, Shreshka got up with the intention to help before suddenly realising that she had little idea of how to do so, problems of heat and food rarely being of consequence in her homeland.

Afterall, if you got lost out in the endless dunes, hunger was the least of your worries.

“How do you intend to start the fire?”, she asked, as she was pretty sure you couldn't make fire from sticks and stones and an excessive amount of dust.

Retlafeh, however, didn't reply, instead huddling over a loosely arranged pile of sticks and beginning to move his hands.

It was a long moment before Shreshka realised that the odd gestures and motions he was doing were the beginnings of a spell, one that seemed complicated yet was done with utmost proficiency, with aid from the deft grace that could only be achieved through trial and error.

Like the rising of the sun, a single rune burst into existence, so small and so bright it could have been mistaken for a shining star in the cold cave.

The spell was thrust into the firewood, where it quickly died out, leaving in its wake a small flame which Retlafeh quickly nursed to health.

Shreshka’s mind, however, was not focused on her rapidly warming bones or the comforting smell of wood smoke, instead obsessing over the fact that Retlafeh knew a spell.

It was rare for anyone in Shreshka’s home to know any spells, herself an outlier in all regards and even then her abilities were limited.

How then had Retlafeh, who to Shreshka’s knowledge had been a slave for most of his life, come upon a spell of actual use.

The woman made to speak up, yet their older companion predicted their question before they could.

“I will tell you how I came upon the spell, and even teach it to you once I have time, but not now, once we have eaten and rested there will be time for plans and stories.” he said.

Shreshka wasn't terribly satisfied, and made to insist upon threat of her impatience, however in that very moment her stomach growled fiercely and she very quickly realised her own hunger.

Instead of attempting to take blood from a stone, the former slave moved forward and volunteered her help in preparing the food, the two of them together turning a tedious and messy job with their primitive tools into a merely messy one.

Soon, what was left of the animal’s carcass was discarded, and the brutalised scraps of meat were cooking under Shreshka’s care, the smell wafting out from the cave.

Belatedly, the woman realised that the smoke and smell might attract enemies, but found herself too tired to care, as it was, if another Gitiriag showed up there was nothing they could do, so why avoid basic things such as food.

Growing bored and tired, she made to talk to her companion yet found him asleep by the fire, the exhaustion finally catching up to him despite his best efforts.

And so, with nothing more than deranged mumblings to accompany her, Shreshka waited as the food cooked and wondered what the future held for the trio.