Alone... Almost [Sama'el, Denen]

[Eldon Sunkiss]

Timestamp: 73rd of Winter, AV 510 - Dawn

Tired, so tired. Eldon took a glance down at his body, fighting through the haze of confusion and weakness. His bare chest was soaked in a shiny reddish tint, the various holes and gashes below either side of his ribs was proof themselves of Eldon's encounter with the Zith. The Zith, that thing still lived, lived while his father's body was either already devoured, or was soon to be so in the Grasslands. Eldon rode in slowly, his father's horse carried Eldon into Endrykas with a nauseating slowness, he felt sick yet too weak to vomit. He felt tired, but in too much pain to fall asleep. His arm hurt, the bloody hole where the bolt pierced him was clean, small, but made lifting the arm a pain, and nearly impossible. Eldon's arrival in Endrykas was preceded by his own strider, Vanah, by nearly two whole days. It was likely the female horse would have sought out the only person she could have thought would help, Sam. Eldon's cousin and kin. Vanah liked him as much as any other Drykas, Eldon excluded of course. If she were to find him, surely Sama'el would find it strange she would be without Eldon's company. Very strange indeed. Now, it didn't matter, Eldon had just reached Endrykas, and should have went straight to somebody to heal him up, patch his wounds, disinfect if it was necessary, which most likely was. But no, he didn't budge once he his that invisible boundary of Endrykas, as if the Webbing that was mystically draped over the nomadic town caught him where he was. He didn't want to move, he wanted to die, he wanted to live, he wanted to find Vanah and Sam, but he wanted to find this brother his father mentioned moments before he died. Eldon wanted to cry, but he couldn't yet, not until he was alone, completely, entirely alone. Eldon slumped forward, his chest falling on his father's strider as he felt an ease come over him, a mild rest now that his destination was reached. Perhaps a few moments of sleep wouldn't hurt.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Earlier... Sama'el was in the Stormwatch now and, what was more, he was an apprentice Web Mage. Since Vanah had come to him, he had gone to the Sunkiss pavilion to make inquiries about the estimated arrival of Eldon and his father, but nothing had changed. With a smile plastered on his face that felt false on his face, he had returned to his own camp, small and humble, and thrown his yvas over Dohaina. He should have talked to someone, but there was no time. He knelt in the trampled grass beside his Strider and quieted his insides until he could open his eyes and see the Web about him. There were limits on his abilities, but they could not have gotten far. Outside his own body, he found Vanah and immediately ran along the link that tied her to Eldon. Something was wrong, and he dared not travel too far along the bewitching lines of power, but once he had a direction, he returned to himself, and vaulted in one motion from kneeling to Dohaina's back in a movement that would have impressed Denen and Dymphna more than all the little acrobatic tricks he had been working on. His golden mare shot off like a crossbow bolt, their bodies moving in unison. If there was one thing he was good at, this was it: riding. They rode like a Cyphrus storm out of Endrykas and into the wild, not even checking to see if Vanah would follow back to her bondmate's side. She had been weary, but if Eldon was in danger... Now... Sama'el finally caught up with Eldon, having overshot him and tracked him with dubious skill. He should have contacted the Stormwatch immediately, but his discipline was not as yet so great as his loyalty. "Eldon!" he shouted, though they might have been galloping quickly enough to outpace his voice. Certainly it felt like riding the wind, and no horse could match a Cyphrus Strider on the Sea of Grass. Indeed, they traveled so quickly that Dohaina had to overshoot them and arc around back, giving herself sufficient space to slow down from the dead run that she had maintained for far too long. Her barrel heaved between Sama'el's knees as they trotted up to Eldon and his father's horse. "Eldon?"

[Eldon Sunkiss]

"Eldon?" Eldon released a heavy painful snort as his head lifted off of the strider's neck, several strands of her mane clung to his face as if drawing him back into slumber, which was probably ill advised at that moment. He stared at the ground in a dazed manner, his wits were scattered, his mind jumbled, but he recognized his name, and more importantly, that voice. "Sama'el?" Eldon's gazed settled first on his cousin's strider, Dohaina, another familiar and comforting person... animal... His gaze slowly lifted to find Sama'el staring at him in an almost confused manner. Eldon winced as he tried to make out his cousin's figure from the blackened silhouette painted from Syna's powerful glare right behind him. It was difficult to see it, but he was there, his cousin. Eldon's right arm reached out to Sam, as if a single touch from his cousin would confirm this wasn't a solution, that his family had really found him. His family, the only one he had left now. He was alone now, except for Sam, he was alone. Eldon instantly understood now what his cousin had gone through, even though the extinction of his family was less sudden, less brutal, and less in his face, but he had nobody in Endrykas waiting for him after the annual Great Hunt. Nobody to watch over him as he progressed into his Reimancy. Nobody but Sam. Eldon felt the tears already streaming from his eyes, and even though no sobs or gasps accompanied them, he was obviously grieving. His father was gone. He foolishly gave up his own life so that Eldon could have a better chance, not even guaranteed, of survival. "Sam, please, take me home." Eldon was a mess. Often before he had been injured, a Drykas was expected to obtain various scars on their frequent hunting trips, but this was different. This was his father. Not some blemish of the skin, not just a wound that would heal but always leave a limp, but a hole that could not be filled. His body ached from the various torn flesh, but his chest was stricken with an even stronger pain. The loss of a loved one, the last loved one. Sam was his family, but his father raised him, cared for him, was the sole person to save his life years ago from the glassbeaks, and now died to save him from a Zith. Eldon could never return the favor.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Eldon?!" he repeated, his voice spiraling up an octave in alarm before he pulled himself together. He felt bloody flashbacks breathing down his neck, flashes of dying family, Hasieran's screams. Shoving all that aside, he attempted to be the leader he claimed he would be, pulling Dohaina up alongside him, taking his hand, steadying him. "Gods, Eldon... Gods. Your father...?" But Eldon's request seemed to be a symbol for an unspeakable truth, and Sama'el pushed him no further. Instead, he commandeered his uncle's Strider. "Hup!" he called, and nudged Dohaina with his knees. The exhausted Striders picked up the pace, finding a gentle canter that wouldn't upset Eldon's torn body overmuch if he could help it. Sama'el himself delved within himself for new reservoirs of strength to keep the both of them in the saddle. His cousin, his old hero, had little to offer for himself now. "Don't speak now. We'll be there soon..." And with that, he rode them back to Endrykas. When they arrived at the Sunkiss pavilion, Sama'el called a halt and managed to slither out of his yvas and plant his feet on the ground while still supporting Eldon, though he then eased his cousin off of Vanah. Eldon was surprisingly light in his arms, or perhaps he was getting stronger, or both. He could only hope that some essence of his cousin had not been taken from him. "Water!" he called out, the authority in his voice strange from such a young man, but fit to send people scurrying. "Broth!" for his stomach would likely be weak, but he would need sustenance to heal. "A healer for the gods' sake!" But he cradled Eldon gently as a babe, walking toward the pavilion entrance. "You're home safe, coz," he promised. For what it was worth.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Funny how horses have their way of knowing. Denen had been, as he usually was at such a time, rising from bed and getting things in motion for the day. Sam was out, and Denen had decided to attempt to prepare breakfast for when he got back. He cut up some mushrooms, as they were remarkably healthy, and began scrambling some eggs in a pan, into which he mixed the mushrooms. He grabbed one of the furs from the tent, and huddled with it by the fire, smiling because it smelled like Sam. He pushed the eggs around in the pan, not wanting them to burn and be ruined. He wanted things to be at least edible, after all. Dymphna couldn't cook every meal. It didn't hurt to improve himself, either. He was sitting thus when Dohaina appeared. He looked up too her with a smile, half-expecting to see Sam, but found her alone. His eyes went wide, realizing that she appeared distressed. A rush of panic shot through him, and he bolted to his feet, pulling the food off of the fire and throwing the furs back into the tent. What if Sam was hurt? Oh, goddess, please...please...Not Sam... His hands were shaking now, and his features became grim. He had to stay calm. Sam needed him. That much was very clear. He could feel his heart racing in his throat, and his mouth had gone dry. In the back of his mind, he became vaguely aware that his ears were ringing painfully. He stumbled from Sam's tent toward his own, in which things were stored, rather then bodies sleeping in it. His legs were clumsy, and his feet caught awkwardly. There was a reason he didn't often run. Still, he moved as quickly as he could, scraped knees and palms be damned! He had to help Sam! He grabbed his back, as well as bandages and extra waxed thread for stitching injuries. He had already loaded up on herbs. Another look was thrown around the tent, and he snatched up a bundle of coneflower and a canteen of water. Shaking, he slid the strap of his bag over his shoulder, and hurried out of the tent. For a moment, he debated calling for Reth or going with Dohaina, but there wasn't time. He bit his lip hard, praying she wouldn't throw him off. "P-Please, sweet...sweet g-g-girl," he whispered. "T-Take m-me...T-Take me to h-h-him." Carefully, he drew himself up onto her back, and leaned down against her neck, letting her to the guiding. He wasn't sure if it was relief or sickness that he felt when he realized it wasn't Sama'el who was hurt, but when they arrived at the Sunkiss Pavilion, he was quick about his work. Worrying and fretting could come later. He slid down, quietly thanking Dohaina, and moved with surprising accuracy and ease to Eldon and Sam. He did not speak, but instead pointed to the nearest tent, indicating that Eldon should be laid down as quickly as possible, so that he could be tended to. He rested a hand on Sam's back as they walked, a silent offering of comfort and support. He didn't need to explain how it had happened that Dohaina had known what to do. The gods worked in mysterious ways.

[Eldon Sunkiss]

Eldon's eye widened as Sam mentioned his father, then he closed them, tightly, as if to try and squeeze the very life from his body by the mere strength of his eyelids. Sama'el had to have understood the situation. He rode back to Endrykas, most of the way, bloodied and wounded on his father's strider, not Vanah (his own), and his father obviously wasn't with him, not like the left. Eldon wanted to scream until his lungs burst. Eldon wanted to throw punches at the earth until the very world crumbled under his molten rage and unquenchable anguish. He wanted to run from Sam, run from Vanah, run from Endrykas in a such a maddened ferocity that the winds wouldn't be able to catch him and the Glassbeaks themselves would be frightened to approach him. Eldon wanted to find that Zith bastard, to pummel and beat him until he couldn't remember how to walk or fly, to jump at his flesh with his teeth and shred his body like a piece of soft bread. He wanted to breathe fire and smoke, smothering the winged monster in ashes and stone, baking him alive under Syna's gaze, and guarding him so that even Caiyha couldn't rescue him from a slow and agonizing death. Eldon wanted evil amongst that humanoid like he had never before craved, and he wanted it by his own hands. But he couldn't. Eldon was weak, pathetic. He could not beat the earth until it bent to his will, nor conjure enough anger to scare the very predators of the world. No, Eldon was weak, defeated by a Zith, and now cursed to being alone because of it. Eldon hadn't the strength to scream until his lungs ached with passionate burning, but he could cry, it was all he could do. He hadn't even the strength to deny his tears, and such obvious weakness only brought greater hardship upon his broken heart and twisted mind. The tears only strengthened, as if to reconcile for the fragility he now felt through to his core. The pain, the scratches and rent flesh, the punctured holes made by finely crafted bolts, none of it compared to the loss that only Sam could understand. But did he remember? Sama'el had lost his family long ago, he had years to grow calloused, and now that Eldon saw him, a man, he didn't even seem phased by his Pavilion being lost in bloodshed as it was. Would a man so hardened by a life of difficulty understand the newborn into pain? Eldon had not been held like this in all his life, that he remembered. He was without a mother since he was born, his father was always there, but a man who did not cradle nor embrace like a mother. Eldon would have felt discomfort if it wasn't such a relief to have someone still there. Eldon was foolish to even consider that Sam might not understand his pain. Hell, he was probably the only one who knew his pain better than Eldon did yet. Eldon was far from death to be honest, though a mixture of lost sleep, little nourishment, and a significant loss of blood made it hard for him to do much, not that there was much to do while cradled in Sam's arms. Instead, he just allowed his cousin, who seemed both older and stronger than himself now, to take him where he pleased. If Sama'el were to say 'You are dead, I will ease your passing,' then Eldon would only nod and accept his wisdom. He trusted Sam, more now than ever before, and he couldn't even explain why. "Sam..." Eldon managed a whisper, though it was directly into his cousin's chest, a mute action overall.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el's world seemed to telescope down into the current crisis. Of course his uncle was dead, leaving the Sunkiss pavilion in a reeling state of shock until the next Ankal was confirmed. But Sama'el had Eldon and for the time being, he stepped into the position of authority based on his quick thinking and his bloody past. He knew knife-sharp pain and sluggish aches, numb depression and shaking agony. Eldon would know too, but Sama'el would be there to hold him while he cried, or to stand there unmoving as a rock while he pummeled him, venting his rage upon someone who deserved it least. They let him into the pavilion and he knelt with Eldon's broken and bloody body near a lantern so Denen would have light to see by, but he refused to let go of his fallen idol, supporting his head in his lap and holding tightly onto his hand so Eldon would know that his cousin hadn't abandoned him to his pain. Whatever secret he had whispered into Sama'el's chest -- it had sounded like his name, but what had it meant? -- he couldn't say. Hopefully he would recover... No, he would recover, Sama'el decided fervently. "Denen," he said, quietly, but dark eyes intent upon Denen's blue in order to catch his attention and have his lips read. "Denen, please do whatever you have to do to save my cousin now." Sighing, he looked down at his cousin's face, his own eyes dry but aching. If the gods had asked, he would have given his blood for his uncle's. What was his own pavilion but a dream not yet given flesh, after all? Now Sunkiss pavilion would soon fill with the ululating keen of mourning women, and if... no, when Eldon recovered, yet more responsibility would fall upon him.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen was quiet, following with his hand resting gently on Sam's back, so that he wouldn't be lost in the fray of people rushing back and forth. Chaos. He hated it. But there was security in remaining close to Sam. His head remained bowed, and with his proximity to the others, there could be no question of his place in the procession. He adjusted the bag over his shoulder, hoping that the shaking of his slender hands wasn't too obvious to Sam and those who saw them. His features were grim, set. Somber. This was important. Important enough to warrant complete solemnity on his part. He did not know the same loss that Sama'el and now Eldon had felt. It was as foreign to him as the distant lands. But he had lost both his birth mother and the woman who had raised him. He followed Sam into the tent, letting him kneel down with Eldon before he did the same. He set his bag at his side, and began drawing his supplies forth, though he trembled now, and visibly. This was a big job, bigger than anything he'd done before, and he was worried sick that he'd do it wrong. He drew out his canteen, crushed echinacea roots, and caraway oil, which had been contained in a tiny, earthen jar. He brought out, too, a scarf, with which he tied back his long hair. Sama'el successfully caught his eye, and he looked up, his gaze level. A single nod was given as his reply, and he was about to resume his labor, when he hesitated, and brought a hand to rest on Sam's shoulder. "Sam, it's going to be all right," he signed. "I will do everything in my power to be sure of it." He gave an encouraging, albeit somber smile, and let his hands drop into his lap. His head bowed, and his eyes closed reverently. Rak'keli, goddess, please give me the wisdom to help this man, and the courage to understand what I do not know. Please, goddess, guide my hand, so that he might guide others. This done, he began cleaning the wounds, worried that they'd begin bleeding freely if he did too much, and yet knowing they'd become infected if he didn't do something about it. He rubbed at his brow anxiously. This was a job for someone who was better skilled than he. Someone who didn't have to worry that they'd petch up and accidentally kill someone. "G-Goddess," he whispered. Come on, Denen. You have to do this. He needs help now, and the goddess has blessed you with knowledge to help. Do it now. His hands came to rest on Eldon's abdomen, holding him gently in place as he began rinsing out the clotted wounds. His stomach twisted, and he shook his head, stunned to think that Eldon was alive still. These wounds had, clearly, been bleeding heavily. There was no way...Unless, of course, some god had intervened on Eldon's behalf. "T-Talk to him, S-Sama'el," he whispered. His fingertips were red now, marked by the essence of Eldon's existence.

[Eldon Sunkiss]

Eldon was set down on his own cot, slowly, carefully, by his cousin. Eldon felt his chest quiver in pain. 'Don't look Eldon. Don't look at yourself. I know it hurts, it burns, but don't look' Eldon had to be strong, knowing that if he looked as bad as he felt he would panic. But, he had o know. He knew he shouldn't, but he had to know that it wasn't so bad. He was overreacting, he was just imagining all the pain. It was some terrible dream. If he saw that his wounds didn't exist, then his father was alive. Eldon lifted his head to look down at his chest. If Eldon hadn't already faded to a ghostly white color, he certainly did right then. Eldon's blood stained hand hastily moved to the rent flesh, gripping with his slick red fingers as if trying to force his skin to stretch and hide his wounds. "No! Gods, no!" Eldon threw his head backwards against against the cot. His teeth clenched fiercely as his jaw began to ache from the force. He had to stay calm, but he sure as hell couldn't keep himself calm. The pain was too much, the confirmation of his injuries was a confirmation that his nightmare was more real than he'd like to admit."Father..." Eldon felt Denen's hand on his stomach, far enough from the wounds as to not add to the pain, but the coolness felt out of place, strange, yet comforting, if only slightly. Eldon wanted to believe that was all that needed to be to help him, but something told him he was still bleeding, battered. Then he felt the coolness, water, rinsing over his chest, the hole in his arm. It burned, forcing Eldon to bite against his lower lip with enough ferocity to visibly draw blood. He tried not to groan in pain, but it felt as though the sound came from his chest itself. Eldon pulled his hand from his chest, grabbing now at something, anything. A spare hand, the ground, his cot, whatever was available, near, and offered support. Eldon heard Denen's command to Sam, to talk. Talk to Eldon, he closed his eyes, tight, heavily. "Talk to me. Tell me, how bad." Eldon started to calm down, though his chest still heaved up and down in rapid rhythm, but he was no longer clenching himself, no longer panicking. Perhaps, even, falling asleep. He was so tired. He had been through more in the past three days than any Great Hunt or Hydromancy-spree. Eldon sighed, his teeth loosening from his lip. "Talk to me Sama'el." Eldon felt a coolness crawl across his face, it was almost soothing, like a cool breeze in the middle of a scorching summer day.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

When Eldon began writhing, Sama'el clamped his arms around his cousin, holding him down on the cot so Denen could work. He nodded to acknowledge Denen's orders and then turned his head away so he could call something that Denen wouldn't hear to Eldon's relatives. "You." In a crisis situation, one person had to be singled out for orders, because general orders would not be received in all the shock and awe. "Go find a priest of Rak'keli in case this proves beyond Denen's skill." He was confident in Denen's skill, but he was desperate not to lose Eldon. He grasped Eldon's flailing hand, kept his arm around the injured man's shoulders to keep him from causing himself further damage. He squeezed that hand to remind Eldon he was there, and then began to speak to him again, pressing his face against the side of his cousin's. It was suddenly of immense importance that Eldon be aware that Sama'el wasn't going anywhere, that he would be there with him even if the worst happened and Lady Dira came for him. "It's bad, Eldon," he said, not one to lie, "but it's not that bad. You got here in time for help. You made it all the way home. You're going to be fine soon enough, and we'll be wrestling come Spring, and don't think you're getting out of initiating me because of some stupid flock of glassbeaks..." He wished he dared ask Denen to do something for the pain, but the bleeding was more important now, and so he merely gripped Eldon's hand and his shoulders -- more tightly and he might have strangled the poor man -- to remind him that he should focus on his stupid cousin who wandered back from far away than the pain in his body. "The scars will impress the ladies and you'll have eight wives to tend by midsummer... Gods, Eldon..."