Her ribs snapped under the weight of the hunks of stone nearly as big as her chest piled on top of her torso and legs. Her lungs could barely inflate enough to take a sucking breath as the weight pressed her chest into the earth. Heat poured down her calf, a stabbing pain of a jagged hunk of rock lodged in it. Every inch of her body throbbed, feeling as though it was going to pop.

The other Faedemon sneered down at her, “What a waste of all that lean muscle. You aren’t even worth butchering anymore.” He glanced over at Zaramir’s unconscious body lying in a massive pool of his own blood. His travel shirt stained the same deep crimson as the jacket he was fond of wearing at home. He opened his mouth as though he were about to speak when a blank, slightly dazed expression overtook his face.

“I don’t have time for you.” he murmured as he meandered away.

She recognized that look. In a brief respite from their misfortune, the other Faedemon had been taken over by his masters, leaving her alone with Zaramir’s unconscious body.

She stretched out a bloodied arm toward him. She had to wake him up. They had to get home, before the other Faedemon could return. Her vision blurred with each moment sending a bolt of pain into her skull.

He lay just out of reach, the three feet between the stretching to the ends of the earth.

Twisting her body to try to free herself from the stone mausoleum sent hot blood up from her abdomen, spilling out of her lips like wine from a bottle. She nearly choked on the sickly metallic ooze that hacked up from her lungs and stomach, but she managed to shift the rocks enough to move.

She dug her fingertips into the muddy, burnt earth beneath her, hauling herself inch by in from the pile of stone.

If she had the strength to scream she would as the one that had impaled her leg tumbled to the side, ripping itself free.

Her vision darkened around the edges, the world barely in focus. As she slowly clawed her way over.

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Dress soaked through the blood and rain, she finally was able to stretch her arm out just far enough to touch him. Her fingertips barely managed to brush the back of his chilled hand.

For a brief second she thought the worst, his body more still than it should have been. When, suddenly, past the drenched hair that draped his face, his eyes shot open.

His wounds began to heal themselves over, leaving only streaks of old blood in their stead.

“Cora!” He scrambled up, eyes widening in abject horror as they took her in. His eyes darted across her body, taking in the innumerable injuries she knew she must have sustained. He gripped her hand and the agony vanished, replaced with a cold numbness and the dull throbbing of her slowed heartbeat.

His eyes quickly flicked across the room, scanning for the other man, before returning to her, “Where’s the paper I gave you?” He questioned hastily.

Despite there being no pain, her lungs were still tight. She sucked in just enough air for one word, “Pocket.” her voice was a barely audible wheeze over the thunder and wind around them.

He very gently slid a hand under her shoulder, carefully rotating her body so she laid on her back. Fresh blood dripped from her lips with every movement. He pulled her head off the wet ground onto his legs

He reached into her inner pocket, drawing out a paper as red as his shirt, the envelope tore in two, soaked with blood and stuck to itself. He cast the useless scrap away, “It won’t work.” He said softly.

She pulled in air for every word, her lungs felt as if they were shrinking with every breath, “We--can’t--get--home?”

“Not right now. I’ll have to prepare a new sigil and fresh materials.” He gripped her hand more tightly. He didn’t make a move toward his discarded pack. What he needed was in there.

“How-- bad---” She tried to tip her head down to get a view of her injuries, but he placed his head under her jaw, tipping her head back to keep her from looking.

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” Rain dripped down his cheeks onto hers.

She knew it was bad. He was keeping the pain from reaching her, but the last bit of her energy was slowly draining away with every moment. Her lungs felt as if they’d shriveled up into raisins.

The last of her vision began to give way. Her eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, the last of her energy going to keep them open, despite how little she could still see.

“I should have told you to stay in Pearl’s keep.” His voice was barely audible above the rain and thunder. “I should have…” His words became garbled, her brain no longer able to understand.

The last thing she saw as the darkness overtook her, was the hazy image of his face, haloed by lightning across the dark sky.