Knives of pain flared in red and white as they drove through Ranvir’s mind and spirit. He was barely aware of himself sliding down the wall, his feet shoving against the small pool of blood that had gathered at the bottom. He could hardly understand so much blood could fit inside another person.

Pashar reached down and picked Frija up from his twitching arms, “N- no,” Ranvir gasped reaching for his baby, but she wasn’t returned to him. Another ripple passed through the pocket nearly ripping it apart. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Ranvir reached for more power and secured the structure, even as the flames in his mind licked higher.

It left him gasping, tears rolling down his face. Ranvir couldn’t really feel his side anymore, as the pain in his head and spirit took over.

Breathing hard, the pressure increased and Ranvir had to reinforce the space once more. Sweat was beaded freely on his skin mixing with the tears and the blood until he couldn’t tell which was which.

Ranvir had plenty of power still. The effort of sustaining the space should’ve been minimal. And it was, except for the pain. Every second became a match of endurance and persistence. Could Ranvir maintain a grip on himself? Remain aware enough to control his power for a moment longer?

The space swayed so abruptly, for a moment, Ranvir thought he was falling over if not for the blood lurching alongside him. They’d hit something.

“What did you do to me?” Ranvir hissed through gritted teeth directing his thoughts towards Latresekt, but the creature didn’t appear to his mind. Instead, he simply found his mindscape floating emptily as it always had before the creature’s appearance.

The pressure increased further and Ranvir realized that whatever the creature had done to the space, it was being pulled into something else. Squeezing them together until one of them had to quit.

The pocket-space ripped without a sound, purple sparks flitting through the air for a moment. Light, and sound, and noise, and heat, and pain assaulted him. Ranvir let out a gasping cry as he fell through the air.

The noise was abruptly shut off as he hit the ground knocking the air out of his chest. Ranvir blacked out for a few minutes before Pashar sprinkled water on his face. Coughing, Ranvir spluttered awake with a wet rasp. His mind was overtaken by a pain unlike any he’d ever felt before, blindingly bright, like looking into the sun, seared every inch that was Ranvir.

He embraced the pressure desperately, another fit of coughing seized him. With energy coursing through his Flesh, Ranvir managed to roll over and let out a hacking cough. Something was making a lot of noise, biting into his ears, loud enough and attention grabbing enough that it made him look up.

Pashar knelt next to him, her face pale as she clutched Frija to her chest. It was his daughter. She was crying and screaming. Weakly, he reached for her only to realize his hands were covered in blood and worse.

Struggling to his feet, Ranvir started making out the noise that fit below Frija’s crying in a calmer tone. Pashar was talking. He blinked dazedly at her taking in a long slow breath, quickly aborted into a wet cough ending with him spitting phlegm on the ground. Red and sticky it struck the dusty road below them.

Pashar went quiet as they looked at each other. Ranvir focused on staying upright, swaying lightly on his feet, but Pashar had stepped closer her ear bent to his sternum. Ranvir couldn’t understand how she could hear anything over Frija’s cries. Maybe she couldn’t. Pashar stepped away with a quick smile before surveying the area.

Following suit, Ranvir let his eyes wander across the terrain. It was different from any he’d ever seen. Movement was constant, far more so than even the wind could explain.

The trees were gnarled and curved, reaching only three or four meters up. Ranvir could reach around the trunks, even at their thickest, with out much issue. Their branches drooped from them flowing lazily in the wind with small green leaves making it almost seem like hair. All throughout their canopies vines crawled, sometimes falling to hang limply almost all the way to the ground.

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These were not the woods he’d grown up in. No domineering oaks thicker, stronger, and older than any in the village. There were no tall fir trees, their evergreen needles present at all times of the year.

The underbrush was thick around the road, lush and green it looked like an inter-grown mess of different plant life, rather than a single species of bush. Some had clear thorns sticking out, others small little green berries, others yet had thick and wide leaves that provided lots of shade, all of it an interwoven mess barely edging in on the path.

And everything writhed. It took Ranvir a moment to realize that it wasn’t bugs, or some other infestation, that had inflicted the plant life. It was the plants themselves. Even the trees, constantly growing, then un-growing, and regrowing in a different path. As he watched, he noticed that some patterns stuck for longer than others before fading.

Ranvir stifled a small cough, swaying on the path. He noticed Pashar looking at him from a few steps down the road. Her lips moved as she gestured at him. He blinked once, twice, then it suddenly deciphered into words with meaning, “Come on, Ranvir. Follow.”

Nodding, he started walking after her. Moving was agony, not even his power was able to keep out the pain of his injuries any longer, though he could still feel it crackling somewhere in his body.

It took too much effort to figure out where.

Step by step.

He continued down the road. First he was led by Frija’s cries, but eventually she grew tired. Then by Pashar’s occasional call. Then finally, by the slow tread of feet slightly ahead of him.

It was hot out, he realized after some time. He was burning up, his mouth dry, runnels of cleaner skin had started forming on his arms where enough sweat had gathered to roll. Another hacking cough tore through him, enough that he almost fell over. He spat once to clear his throat before regretting it. They hadn’t brought anything along with them, he didn’t think. Pashar had a waterskin, but she’d been shaking it pretty aggressively over his face to get just those few droplets out. They’d been fools to leave in such a rush. They should’ve prepared better.

Ranvir ran a hand over his face, scraping crusted blood with his fingers. He struggled forwards passing something that slapped lightly at him. He adjusted his walk to not fall in among the trees and continued on. Something loud was going on. Pausing, Ranvir realized it was his name that was being yelled.

Looking up, he realized it was not Pashar standing before him, but someone else. He hadn’t been about to fall into the tree line, he’d touched Pashar. He looked over his shoulder to see the ankirian talking to the stranger before him. For long moments, he couldn’t understand what she was saying. Then for the snap of a moment, he could.

“Who are you? Do you understand me?”

Then no longer. More words, but they made no sense to Ranvir.

He didn’t know for how long he stood there watching them, his legs feeling more and more leaden by the moment. His eyes drooping, hands too weak to clench into fists, and his chest hurting with every errant twitch or breath.

Then suddenly Pashar was next to him, dragging his face to look at hers with a strong grip on his chin, “Ranvir, we’ve found a foreigner. I’m not sure where she’s from, but she doesn’t speak elensk, kisi, or vargin. I’ve managed to communicate our names to her, she calls herself Amalia, I think. She’s guiding us towards her town. I think she’s a tethered.”

It took Ranvir long moments to understand the words before nodding. He turned to look at the woman. She was taller than Ranvir, her short hair cut so it didn’t fall into her eyes. She gave him a weak smile before turning around. As she moved, Ranvir noted the three ribbons attached to her shoulder billowing in the slight breeze.

One was blue, the next a dark red, and the final was white striped with black. Ranvir looked questioningly at Pashar, but she was already following behind the woman. Closing his eyes, Ranvir grunted and forced another step, the movement tugging at his ribs.

His eyes inevitably drew away from his feet to return to the stranger. She didn’t look like anyone he’d ever seen. Her skin was as dark as Pashar’s, but they’d just been touching on spring back home. The sky was clear and the air was hot and wet. Her leathers were clearly meant for traveling but they looked too tight for such hot weather, too bulky as well. She didn’t carry any items with her, except for a pouch attached to her belt positioned at her lower back.

It looked just big enough to fit a straightened hand into and it was made of that same pale leather as well. Ranvir hadn’t often seen such a leather, though he supposed it could simply be a difference in treatment. She didn’t speak any languages, he remembered from what Pashar had said.

He blinked again, realizing they’d suddenly gotten farther away. There was something else about her. Something that tickled his mind familiarly. Before Ranvir could realize what it was, another cough took him.

Heaving, Ranvir shook as he coughed until his palm was speckled with fresh blood and the world swung up to embrace him.