Ayuen
????, The Grasping Isle
[https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/876104022833127448/1097846263959011368/stefano-pollio-ZC0EbdLC8G0-unsplash.jpg?width=901&height=676]
From Stefano Pollio, Unsplash Licence
Ayuen’s stomach turned upside down when she saw the woman sit on the ground against a rock, empty eyes staring into eternity. Foam ran down the corner of her mouth. Her face was frozen in an ecstatic expression, her weapons laying abandoned by her side, untouched and unblooded.
Without skipping a beat, Trïeste and Rove rushed forwards while Ayuen and Sneak were still processing the scene in front of them. The alchemist put a finger against Tira’s jugular, taking note of the woman’s heartbeat. She frowned, waited a dozen seconds, and then recoiled away from the guide. Ayuen just looked at Trïeste, her hand covering her mouth in shock and dreaded anticipation.
“Her heartbeat… It’s far too slow and too fast at the same time.” Trïeste said, her voice shaking. “Goes from once every couple of seconds to so fast I cannot keep track. The fact that she’s alive is a miracle….”
At the moment Trïeste spoke up, Tira’s face turned to them slowly, her muscles spasming. Her eyes, wide and empty, looked at them with that damned alien expression.
“He… is here. My love… finally… ” Her voice sounded more like a wooden beam slowly splintering than an actual voice. Creaking, croaking and hoarse. Yet, that wasn’t what raised all the hairs on Ayuen’s body straight. There was an undertone of total bliss in Tira’s voice as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Tira’s eyes slowly turned upwards, until only her sclera were visible. Then, as if in time itself slowed down, she quickly toppled over and laid still. Trïeste approached again, checking her pulse. After only a couple of seconds, she shook her head, taking the small bag of Tira’s personal belongings off her, as well as her weapons. No use wasting any of that, after all. The alchemist closed her eyes with a solemn expression.
“She’s gone. There’s no pulse.” She said while the alchemist walked back to the group.
Anger twisted Rove’s face as he heard that, causing Ayuen to put a step back.
“What in the fucking everliving blazes is this shit? Everybody, stay close, back to each other. And under no circumstance wander away from the rest.”
Ayuen wasn’t about to disobey her bodyguard, putting her back against Rove’s while Trïeste and Sneak flanked them.
“Okay, any ideas?” The Herhor asked after a couple of seconds that felt more like years as they all stared into the mist.
“A couple.” She said, her eyes darting nervously back and forth like those of a frightened little lamb. “Either it's something in the mist’s vapour. In which case we just killed ourselves…”
“Wrong assumption by default.” Rove interrupted her. “Other options.”
“Or this mist possesses some sort of force or test inside of it. Tira did say she witnessed her ‘love’, after all. So maybe it makes you see what you want and leads you to your demise. Like some Bovnaz are rumoured to do.”
“Let’s assume that. I like that option far more than ‘We are dead already’. So nobody follows anything you see in this mist besides me. Understood?”
No response from anyone. Not even a nod this time. Every single one of them was focused on the whiteness that surrounded them. The atmosphere between them was grim. And yet, there was an air of determination as well.
Rove slowly began to move deeper into the valley, allowing the rest to follow, their backs to one another. For a solid ten minutes, they shuffled their way deeper into the mist. And in all those ten minutes, nothing happened.
Ayuen gulped, tugging at the edge of her tunic and scratching the skin beneath it. Whatever had attacked and killed Tira should be around here somewhere. And there hadn’t been any signs that their group had been poisoned by the mist.
“What the…? Halt!” It came from the front. Apparently, Rove had found something. Ayuen, a spark of curiosity worming its way through the fear, looked over Sneak shoulder to see what they had run into. In front of Rove, hidden partially by wisps of fog, was a body. A human, armoured in decorated bronze plating. One of Prado’s men. They hadn’t been alone in this mist.
“Ah, shit,” Rove swore under his breath, followed by a mumble of softer profanities.
“Alright, apparently Prado is somewhere around here.” He said grimly, the man audibly gritting his teeth. “Just our luck. More things to worry about.”
“Rove, we will be alright. Cover me, I’ll take a look. Maybe we can find something that’ll help us.” Ayuen walked up to the corpse, taking a deep breath before examining it. There was something off with this one when compared to Tira. This man’s face, sporting a big beard and having the general burly features of a Jiyt, was twisted and contorted in agony, the remains of tears still clearly visible on his cheeks. His eyes were still wet as they stared into the white void above them. He hadn’t been dead for very long.
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“May your soul enter safely through the Wailing Gates.” She softly said, closing the man’s eyes. She stood up, looking back at Rove.
“By the looks of it, it appears Prado is having as many issues with this mist as we do.”
The Herhor looked deeper into the valley, Prado no doubt in front of his mind’s eye. However, even with the mist in the way, she could still see, practically feel the determination and drive radiating from his eyes. It was clear to Ayuen that he had come to terms with the fact that his family was after him.
“Even if that is the case, he will find a way to get most of his men through it. That’s just the kind of person he is. My mother might hold his heart in a vice grip, but Prado is a man of honour and duty. Fortunately, that hasn’t changed.”
Ayuen walked up to him, laying a hand on his arm.
“Think you can persuade him when we encounter him here?” She simply asked. Rove shook his head, a small sad smile on his face.
“Nope. I’m not keeping that carrot in front of my face. He’ll die for our mother, that much I am sure of. Anyway, let’s keep going. We’re wasting time.”
The four of them gather up again, standing in their little formation. With one last glance towards the fallen soldier, Ayuen shuffled after Rove again.
The farther they made their way into the valley, the thicker the mist became. Their sight worsened to the point that Ayuen could barely see Rove walking at the head of the group, let alone what was ahead of them. Rove had taken to the valley’s right edge to guide them through it in more or less a straight line, progress being slow and painfully tense. Sneak had taken up his post next to Trïeste, his side being covered by the cliff face. Nobody could see them from higher up in the thick fog, so that was a plus. But it was deathly silent, which combined with the limited vision to make her acutely aware of the noises she was making herself.
From the corner of her eye, just as they passed a particularly large rock formation covered with lichen, she saw something whizz by in an instant, barely visible in the fog.
“Stop! There’s something in the mists. We might not be alone.” She said as loud as she dared. Her voice was trembling, her soul quivering as the image of Tira’s unmoving body flashed before her eyes.
“What? Where?” Trïeste responded to her as they stopped moving, keeping their backs towards the rocks.
“To the right of that lichen-covered rock formation. I think it jumped behind that rock.” Ayuen leaned a bit to her right, trying to get a better look at the thing. To her dismay, she saw a shadow looming there, partially obscured by the stone.
“I can spot it from here. It appears to be hiding behind the rock.”
Trïeste frowned and peered at the spot Ayuen was now pointing at.
“Ayuen, I can’t see a thing…”
Ayuen saw the other woman’s eyes widen as she stopped mid-sentence.
“Hold up… I see a shadow too, right in front of us. Seems to be approaching us.”
Confused Ayuen looked around. No shadow there. What in Legria’s name was going on?
Then to her growing confusion, Rove spoke up.
“I don’t know what you two are talking about, but I’m only seeing one shadow near the cliff face. Straight ahead of where we are going.”
Then it dawned on Ayuen and she felt the blood drain from her face.
“Hallucinations! We’re all hallucinating. We need to… We… need… to…”
Her voice died away as the shadow walked into view. It was a figure she knew well. She was dressed in the same bronze ornate armour she wore during her guard duties. Instead of the bright crimson fur and hair Ayuen possessed, hers were more of a more subdued brown. She wore a shortsword on her waist, one hand leaning on its pommel while she smiled at her. Hyra.
Immediately, guilt and sadness flooded her mind.
“Hyra… What?...” She stammered. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to bring you home, Ayuen. I forgive you for your actions. I forgive you for hurting those Pyrn all those years ago. For letting your magic spin out of control. I know it’s an accident. We’re friends, after all, right?”
Hyra’s voice sounded like music to her ears, echoing in her skull. The Pyrn guard reached out to her with a hand, smiling softly at her. “Come. Let’s go see your parents.”
Shakingly, Ayuen put a small step towards her old friend. Something in the back of her head was screaming to her not to do it, but it was but a soft mumble against the joy of seeing her childhood friend once more. Hyra had forgiven her. Had forgiven her for the fact that she’d almost blown up her and their friends.
She reached out with her hand towards her, slowly. Floryshia slipped from her hand, clattering on the rocky valley floor. But it didn’t matter. Not really.
“You… you forgive me for what I’ve done?”
“Yes, Ayuen. You weren’t to blame. It was just a mistake you made, a misjudgment. You were but eleven years old and enthusiastic to become a Gaoler, to wield your magic. Such power with such a young mind… Come, let’s go home and we’ll give you the lessons you deserve. People will be so proud.”
Their hands almost touched. Ayuen put another step forward. Her fingers were mere centimetres away…. And then she got dragged back, after which a powerful smack threw her face to the side. All haziness was gone in an instant, as was Hyra’s image. She blinked, raising a hand to her face in a daze. Tears. She had been weeping. She looked at who had hit her, seeing Sneak running between her, Trïeste and Rove frantically. Sneak was apologizing profusely, eyes rolling madly and wildly in all directions.
The other two besides Sneak both had the same red hand-shaped imprint on their faces, both of them blinking and looking immensely confused. Rove’s face went pale while his eyes widened, looking almost comically. If the situation hadn’t been so serious.
“Oh… shit.”
Ayuen nodded in response, taking a deep breath and calming herself. Trïeste raised a hand a looked at Sneak, two rows of tears streaming from her eyes. With a soft but heartwrenching sob, the alchemist sank to the ground, a fist pounding into the ground. It was clear what had happened now. Hallucinations of the most devious kind. Not your worst fear, not something that you could overcome. Something worse. One’s deepest and most genuine desires.
The ordeal had left her empty. Her vision was hazy as Ayuen silently walked to Rove. Without explanation, she wrapped her arms and wings around him and hugged him tightly without a sound. The Herhor just looked down at her and quietly returned the hug.
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Ayuen art by Ina Koffen, @Ina_Koffen on Twitter