22 Found (1/2)
I open my eyes and have a moment of confusion before horrible memories flood my mind. Hearing a noise, I shoot up in a moment of panic, fearing the draugr will pop out the nearby bushes. I push my back against a tree root. My eyes dart around as I prepare to bolt. After a long, tense moment, I relax enough to notice a transparent film covering my skin and brown dress, and it's slimy. I feel bile rise in the back of my throat; I dry heave.
I look and smell like I was coughed up by a large animal.
/Dear Gods above, did something try to eat me when I was unconscious? Then spit me out when it thought I tasted bad?/
It's everywhere, and nothing short of a shower is going to get rid of the slime; with no other choice, I swallow back bile and search for Daric. I can't yell, but I muttered a line of curses under my breath bad enough to burn the ears off a soldier. Thinking about everything that led to this, I curse harder.
/How did I this happen?/
That drunkard had no business summoning those things but damn if something like common sense was going to stop him. Now an entire village of people have perished. In the name of all that is good and decent, I hope he suffers the pain of a thousand deaths. I startle myself the with force of my anger. I try in vain to remind myself none of this is real. Regardless of how often I get caught in the moment with rushing adrenaline. But when I think of the shooting pain I felt when the draugr slashed at my leg, how can it all be in my head?
Something tickles my memories. I reach out for it, but it once more slips away like a shadow under cover of darkness. Frustrated at the fleeting memory that has plagued me recently, I growl under my breath. I drop it when I catch sight of Daric.
He's laying over the top of a bush, crushing it beneath him. Blood and dirt stain his clothes. Vividly recalling the sound of snapping bones, I don't move him. Instead, working up the nerve to make sure he's alive. Halfway convincing myself if I don't check, he'll be fine. Stupid, but it's helping me keep hold of my panic.
Slowly, I stretch out two fingers reaching for the wrist closest to me. Trapped between scared of knowing and needing to know. I press my fingers to his wrist. My chest deflates from letting go of the breath I wasn't aware I was holding. The gentle thump-thump of his pulse a welcome relief, but leaves me unsure of what to do next. I can't get help even if I was willing to leave him, because I don't know where I am. Neither can I scream for help because it might get the attention of the draugr. With a heavy sigh, I sit and wait while keeping guard.
When Daric woke hours later, he climbed out the bush.
”Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” I question, but he shows no emotions and doesn't speak a word.
I check and find nothing broken, /I must've heard wrong./
Unwilling to continue to stay here any longer, I take his hand and go. Jumping up onto a root while dragging an unresponsive Daric with me. I search for camp, but I pray we find Ivo along the way. Several more hours pass, and I'm exhausted. Daric is breathing hard, and his hand shakes with tremors. He still hasn't spoken a word, nor does he react much. Making me want to weep all over again.
The bushes near us shifts. Thinking it's possibly draugr, I'm already tightening my hold on Daric and turn to run when Lark appears followed by Andri. The overwhelming relief turns my legs to jelly, and I collapse. Still holding Daric's hand. The exaggerated relief written on their faces are comical enough to draw a tired wheeze from me. They pull themselves together and bow.
”Princess Nadia,” they say at the same time.