Don't Complain (Avari)

[Warden Thrice]

He smiled sadly. “Really, there’s isn’t anyone other that you’d run into,” he admitted. “I am mostly alone here.” He heard a trace of concern when he mentioned the shirt, but it soon gave way to simple, tired admission. Her voice trailed and he heard her move to the base of the wall, and her breathing soon dissipated into a mostly even rhythm. He could still hear the rasp of sickly fluids in her throat, but she would be fine for a little while. Taking care to make as little noise as possible, he grabbed the damp shirt on the floor and slipped back into the water. -- He thought about looking for Astrolabe, but eventually decided against it. He needed to get out, get what he needed, and get back in as soon as possible. He hated the cold. Eorar was standing beneath one of the piers, the unfamiliar, tattered shirt on his back. He watched the surface, uneasy with the gravity of what he was about to do. He knew the steps by heart; it was his only model. With clothing covering most of him, he wouldn’t even have to do a full shift, but to his skill, even a little seemed like a lot. He was definitely not the best mage out there, not by a long shot, but he had to do it. He took a deep breath, reminded himself that there was a Konti now depending on him, and began. He started with his feet. He rubbed them until the blue began to lighten to a pale pink, pulled and poked at the webbing until it disappeared, and spread it upwards until his feet were identical to those of a human. He moved to his head, sliding his hands over his skull and feeling the change beneath them, to his nose, massaging it until it grew and protruded to a respectable nose, and to his eyes, tracing over them and changing their shape and color. His hands were last, and were relatively easy in contrast. There was now a human in the place of a Charoda, or at least in part. The area beneath cloth was still quite blue and striped, and if it were to be removed his aquatic nature would be obvious, but at a passing glance there was no discernable difference. And so, with a quick prayer to any god that happened to be listening, Eorar lifted himself out of the water. It was freezing. Not cold, not chilly, freezing, and he was immediately assaulted by shivers when he tumbled onto the slimy wood. For a terrible moment, he just lay there, gasping and coughing in shock, before his logic returned. Rolling to stand, he looked to the main city. Even though the day was warm, there weren’t very many people out and about. Men and women hurried to their destinations, chins deep in their scarves or the collars of their battered coats, but even the season’s bite couldn’t stop them from staring at the soaking, barefoot bald man as he walked through their midst. His eyes looked to each and every door, and he went through the mental list of store signs he knew. There. “Sandren’s Weatherwear,” boldly carved into a wooden plank under which was a picture of a knife and bag, shone like a beacon to him, and he angled towards it. He checked the windows, and when he saw three candles burning brightly he entered. The inside was warm, and his ears rang in the sudden absence of wind. A bell rang as he closed the door, and he heard something moving in the back, and before long a young man popped into the room. His hair was bright red, his face was peppered with freckles, and he couldn’t have been older than fifteen. His face was overcome with surprise as he laid eyes on his strange customer, and when he spoke his voice was nervous. “Er, can I, uh, help you?” Eorar nodded. “Waterproof. What is being your most large waterproof bag?” “Uh, waterproof, right. Just a sec.” He retreated to wherever he had come from, then reappeared a minute or so later with a large leather bag that had a dull sheen, and Eorar could quickly tell that it was, indeed, waterproof. It was a bit larger than a backpack, though it had no straps, completely void of anything other than a drawstring. The neck was meant to be tied shut, then twisted and tied again to keep anything from leaking in. It was functional, but the general shape was rather inconvenient. Eorar took the sack and opened it, gauging its carrying capacity, then nodded. “Bedroll, two blankets.” The boy jumped, though Eorar didn’t think he’d snapped at him, and picked some things from the corner. The bedroll was rather thin, but the two blankets were thick and heavy wool. He nodded again, then set everything down. “One, two, no, three waterskins.” They were retrieved. “Do, uh, you want me to fill them?” the boy asked. “Yes. Thank you.” He scampered off once more, and Eorar took the chance to open the bedroll and examine it. It seemed simple enough. It was basically a padded bag, with a little more padding at one end to make a little pillow. With a bit of fiddling he managed to roll it back up just as the boy came back with three dripping waterskins. “How many money?” Eorar asked, taking them and wiping them off. “Fourteen gold and one silver,” the boy said after ample thought. The man managed to get out the money, but they quickly slipped from his hands when he tried to hand them over. Swearing in Char under his breath, he stooped and tried to pick them up, but the boy beat him to it. Nodding a third time, Eorar stuffed everything into the bag, closed it, and left with the hot stare of the boy on his back. The cold hit him just as hard the second time, and the wind seemed to have doubled. Struggling against the great gusts, he made his way back to the pier. The streets were almost deserted, and he was completely alone when he got to the end of the boardwalk, but he still checked, just in case, before diving into the bay. The water enveloped him like an old friend, washing away his stress and morph as he sank, and allowing him a brief moment of respite. He kicked into motion before he fell into the junk at the bottom, but did not immediately head towards his cave. He first stopped at the crate, loading his pockets with as many oranges as possible, then set out, keeping near the cliffs. As time passed, his eyes stayed glued to the surface of the ocean, looking for something. When he saw what he was looking for, he ascended. Over the course of the season, he had discovered and taken note of many patches of tailweed, and though this was one of the smaller patches it would serve his needs. Present in almost every kind of water body, tailweed was generally seen as a pest. Though the green algae definitely was, its sister plant, called tailweed as well, definitely was not. Little white roots the length of a finger hung down in various places, and contained incredibly high concentrations of nutrients. It was usually eaten every once in a while to boost health, because its power was also its vice; if enough of the root was eaten to actually fill a creature’s stomach, it would probably die from an overload to its immune system. But if eaten in moderation, it was very good for the young, old, and sickly. Eorar hung below the yellow-green mass, fingers weaving through the soft tendrils and deftly snapping off the roots that hung down. Within a few minutes he had a large bushel, and then he started towards his cave in earnest. -- Perhaps he made more noise than he should have when he lifted himself and his load from the water, but it couldn’t really be helped. He slid out of Avari’s shirt and wrung it, used it to dry himself, then wrung it again and spread it on the floor. He fumbled with the bag to untie it, and pulled the blankets and bedroll with him as he crawled to the Konti’s side. “Ari,” he whispered, placing a hand on her arm. That was her name, wasn’t it?

[Avari]

After the soft slapping of Eorar's webbed feet on the stony cave floor had faded into silence, Avari fell asleep almost immediately, lulled by the warm darkness of the cave and the reassurance of more food to come. Her last drowsy thoughts before succumbing to slumber were heavy with appreciation for the peace and quiet of the unusual but surprisingly comfortable underwater dwelling. With no shrill winds howling outside the door, no raised voices glad with commerce, and no shipping horns blowing in the distance, it felt so tranquil here, so restful and unchanging...

Perhaps inspired by the train of her thoughts, Avari found herself dreaming about Mura, the pearl of Konti Isle, once she fell asleep. The deep, echoing murmur of the bay outside the cavern walls became the low, gentle lapping of the Silver Lake as she floated deep below the surface of its milky waters. Pale shafts of light pierced the cloudy depths of the lake here and there, as ghostly and deceptive as will-o'-the-wisps. The cool, gentle water felt as thick as honey as she drifted through it, which she idly noticed without being troubled by it. Brightly-colored fish swam around her in dizzying patterns, utterly unafraid of her, and some even approached her to nibble curiously at her skin. In her dream, Avari giggled to feel their touch, sending ripples of water outward in a lazy circle.

Just as some part of her mind started recognizing and remembering the familiar dream, Avari gasped in her sleep when the waters of the Silver Lake abruptly turned into solid steel around her. At least, that was how it felt, in her dream. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe anymore and the water that flooded her mouth and nose threatened to choke her. She wheezed and flailed madly, struggling for breath.

Frantically, her fingers scrabbled to touch the sides of her neck. Her gills were missing! The skin on her neck was smooth and unbroken by gill slits. No wonder she couldn't breathe!

This was no time to wonder what had happened to her gills or why they'd suddenly stopped working, though. If she didn't do something quickly, Avari was going to drown. Panic swamped her mind, making it impossible for her to think about anything but getting fresh air into her lungs at once. Furiously, she kicked and paddled toward the water's surface, striking upward with fierce, uncoordinated movements. Before long, the air felt like a knife in her lungs, and tears of fright and pain seeped from her eyes to join the lake said to have formed from tears shed by Avalis.

Now, the water felt cold and enervating against her skin and the honey thickness of it became a major hindrance to her rather than a minor mystery. Even the fish swarming around her became frustrating, getting in her way and fouling her sight. No matter how hard she swam, Avari didn't seem to be making any headway at all toward the surface. All the while, she was running out of air. Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision, and the temptation to take a deep breath was becoming overwhelming.

Finally, exhausted by her efforts, Avari couldn't keep trying to swim any longer. Instead, she sank down into the Silver Lake, deeper and deeper into the water, the light fading from her vision as she watched the surface getting farther and farther away.

Before everything went dark, she thought she saw a beautiful woman in black floating toward her, one arm beckoning her to follow.

The sudden, unexpected sound of splashing and muffled thumping jolted Avari to partial wakefulness, much to her relief. She gasped hoarsely, the breath rattling in her throat. Thank the gods, it was only a dream! She could still breathe; she wasn't drowning at the bottom of the Silver Lake, without any air or energy left in her body.

"Ari," the whisper came to her ears, followed by a gentle touch on her arm.

Still half asleep and befuddled by her dream, Avari's muddled mind concluded that she must still be in Mura and the person who had woken her must be her cousin K'Sondra. No one else called her by that nickname, after all. Rolling to her side, she pouted drowsily and half-bared her teeth.

"Go away, Sondra," she mumbled, the words coming automatically. "M' name's not Ari-bear, so don't call me that. My name's Avari. Now go away and let me sl..."

The last word was stifled as the Konti rolled over onto her stomach.

Then a drop of icy water trickled from Eorar's bowed head onto her bare cheek, followed by another. The shock of the water caused Avari to come fully awake in an instant. She bolted upright, her eyes flew open, and she cried out incoherently, reaching out with both hands into the darkness. One outstretched hand touched the smooth leather of Eorar's new waterproof sack. Somehow, the feel of the familiar texture of leather made her calm down a little. Her mind started working, and she stopped shrieking.

Taking a long breath, she tried to calm her racing heart, still somewhat frenzied by her dream. She lifted one hand to touch her cheek, still wet with the droplet of cold seawater. This was Zeltiva, not Mura. Her entire body shuddered in a bone-deep sigh of relief.

"Ch-Charoda?" she faltered, trying to peer unsuccessfully into the darkness. "Is that you?"

[Warden Thrice]

Avari shifted and mumbled, causing Eorar to jump. Her words were slurred and he didn’t understand most of what she was saying. The one thing he did catch was her name. Avari, he memorized, nodding to himself. That’s it. She rolled over, leading him to believe that she was still quite asleep. He leaned over so he could pretend to be looking at her face and shook her as gently as he could. He didn’t want— She shot up upwards and sent another one of her blood curdling screams reverberating around the cave, causing him to spring back. He felt her flail about and did his best to keep out of the way, and, miraculously, she stopped just as suddenly as she’d started. His ears rang in the deafening silence that ensued. He waited a few seconds and reorganized his scattered thoughts before he allowed himself to be concerned. “Are you being alright?” he asked. The scream and sudden movement would do nothing good for her condition. “Yes, is me.” He moved cautiously, not wanting to unearth another noise like that, reaching out until his hand found her elbow. He followed it and was surprised to see that she had found the bag. Slowly removing her hand and replacing it with his own, he set to fiddling with the knot. Within a reasonable amount of time, it came loose, and he spoke when he reached in. “Careful,” he said as he fished around. “Shouting will making you worse. Headaches will be badder.” There. He felt the layered texture of the bedroll and pulled it out. He felt around again and found Avari’s hand, then used her hand to find her shoulders. “This way,” he said, guiding her away from the wall. “Bit of moment.” The setup was a bit of a hassle in the dark, but it was rather simple and he had it done in under a minute. The bedroll was on top of one of the blankets, and both were right up against the wall. In a few minutes, the warmth would seep into the cloth and wrap around whoever was within. He reached out for Avari, trying to find her hand once more and guide her to the makeshift bed. “This is where to sleep. Nicer than stone. Not best, but good.”

[Avari]

Avari forced herself to calm down and breathe normally as she listened to the innocuous sounds of her Charoda savior and helper moving about in the dark. She felt his pull her fingers gently off his leather sack, dampening the thin canvas gloves that protected her hands. Then there were some rustling and fumbling noises, reminding her that he had been acquiring supplies while she had been sleeping. She flushed with embarrassment, realizing that it was her second time waking up screaming in his home, and was grateful that he couldn't see her cheeks turning red when he chided her about shouting.

"Yes, I'm all right," she responded, running a hand through her hair. "I'm, uh, well, I'm sorry I screamed like that. Again." She ruffled her hair meditatively, making it even more disheveled than it already was. "I usually like the dark. But, um, I guess waking up in it was just too much for me. Again."

She quietly complied when he tugged her away from the wall, figuring that she would gain nothing from fighting him even if she'd had the energy. There were some more rustling and swishing noises as the Charoda arranged something against the wall. It sounded like something soft, and Avari devoutly hoped it was a pillow or blanket for her. As she waited, she settled into a comfortable sitting position with her knees folded up against her chest, resting her chin on top of her knees and wrapping her arms around both legs.

At length, the noises stopped and the Charoda told her she had a new place to sleep, better than the hard stone of the cave floor. Avari eagerly unfolded her legs and looked around, only to realize she had no idea where she should be looking in the darkness. Guessing that he must be near the wall, she tried to navigate toward the sound of his voice, reaching out to either side with both arms.

"Do you like living in the dark like this?" she asked, partly out of genuine curiosity and partly just to get him talking. "Or is it too hard to bring candles or lanterns all the way down here?

"It seems very cozy here," she noted dispassionately, pulling back when her fingers brushed a rough stone wall, "aside from having no light. Hmm. Can you Charoda see in the dark? Is that how it works? I dare say I shouldn't be surprised, if your people always live underwater."

In the dark, the two of them fumbled awkwardly toward each other, Eorar motivated by his desire to take care of his unexpected patient and Avari intensely interested in the possibility of a warm blanket and pillow. Avari felt her way forward toward what she thought was the wall she'd been lying against, her right arm outstretched and the loose sleeve of her borrowed shirt dropping down to expose her wrist and forearm as she waved it experimentally about. Feeling the movement of air to her right, she reached that way and gasped when she felt, for the first time, the Charoda's touch against her skin.

It was unmistakable, not only because of the sensation of cool, rubbery skin brushing against her right wrist. The texture reminded her strangely of the one time a Konti swimming teacher had coaxed a pod of friendly dolphins to swim alongside them and Avari had wonderingly stroked one dolphin's head. It wasn't just the texture, though.

It was also the sudden flow of images that swam before her vision, making her grimace and crumple to the ground in a daze. Images of the Charoda's innermost desire, his greatest love.

Damn it, was Avari's last conscious thought before she sank into the fleeting vision born from the Charoda's emotions and memories. If I was wearing my own shirt, this wouldn't have happened...

OOCFeel free to describe what Avari would see about Eorar in your next post! It can be as vague or as detailed as you want. During contact, Eorar would most likely not feel anything out of the ordinary, except maybe suddenly thinking about whatever he most desires or loves without meaning to.

[Warden Thrice]

He chuckled. “Not the easiest, but warmer than sleeping in the ocean. I can’t bringing firey things, they getting wet and don’t function.” He heard the rustle of fabric as she searched for the bed, but couldn’t quite determine from which direction. “It is, but we don’t seeing in the dark. We can hearing well, though. But easier to hearing underwater.” Yes, she was definitely going the wrong way. Eorar frowned. She needed solid rest if she was to heal, and fumbling around a dark cave would do nothing, especially since she was moving towards the water. Falling in would be even worse. “No no, this way,” he said. Rising from his squat, the Charoda moved cautiously in the direction he from which he could sense her, arms outstretched. He was getting closer… Her arm practically clubbed him in the shoulder, and he heard her gasp. A small pinprick of light shone in a vast expanse of darkness. Avari hung within the void, until slowly, very slowly, she began to move towards it. She gained speed, though instead of being frightening it was simply the pleasant feeling of getting to where one was going. As she neared, the light became a shape, then a human figure. No, it was the figure of a Konti. She was facing away, so all Avari could see was shimmering hair cascading over a white tunic and breeches. She was small and wispy for her race, though her limbs bore lean sinew in place of muscle. As Avari came to a halt, the sister turned. After a few heartbeats, Avari realized that she was looking at herself, though different. Her mirror’s clothes were difficult to recognize without dirt and grime, and her face, instead of the cold mask or false smile she was so used to wearing, was worriless. The accompanying feeling was not one of exploitation or desire. There was no motive, no conspiring, just an honest wish to see Avari healthy again. the ReasoningEorar is purposeless. Not bored, but truly purposeless. After being trapped under the surface of the water, he had nothing to do but find things to occupy his time. With the new situation, that has changed. His life now revolves around Avari and getting her well again until she can leave on her own. Eorar almost lost his footing as Avari careened into him, but managed to prevent either of them from falling to the ground. “Avari? Avari, what is wrong?” She must have fainted. Doing his best to keep his balance under her weight, he half-carried, half-dragged her to the bedroll and set her down. “Avari? Can you hearing me?”

[Avari]

Avari reeled from the impact of the vision that had descended upon her from the touch of her bare arm against the Charoda's shoulder. She sank limply against his arm, too stunned by the insight imparted by her Konti gift to respond intelligibly to his anxious questions. In the darkness, her eyes sought his face, wondering how such thoughts could dwell within the mind of someone little better than a stranger, but of course she couldn't see anything in the lightless cave. Against the backs of her eyelids, the memory of her face shone with fierce, flame-like clarity, making her breath come quicker and her knees go weak.

Her own face…

Her gift had never lied to her, and she doubted that it could lie, yet she still couldn't quite believe what it had shown her. The shock of it had been like sticking her hand into a pool of ice-cold water. Since she had learned how her own gift worked as a child, Avari had touched hundreds of hands in her life, and none of them had ever yielded an image of herself. No one, not even the women who had cared for her since infancy, not her grandmother, and not anyone she had met since arriving in Zeltiva, had ever included her in their vision of their heart's desire.

Until now. Too preoccupied with her thoughts, Avari made no protest as Eorar half-carried her to the bedroll and set her gently down. Now, she knew beyond a doubt that someone cared for her, and not just as a passing thing, but deeply and truly. Someone wanted her. Someone might even...love her.

Avalis help her, she didn't know whether to be exhilarated or terrified.

But no, it wasn't exactly that the Charoda loved her, nor did he yearn for her in the ordinary way that men yearned for things. Avari clearly remembered confronting herself in the vision of Eorar's heart's desire and seeing the many minute but significant differences between her real self and the imagined Avari facing her. The other Avari had been garbed in spotless white, making her look even paler and more fragile than ever, and her features had been smooth and serene. No cares or troubles marred that tranquil face, no cunning or guile curved her lips or narrowed her eyes, and a rosy flush glowed upon cheeks that were full and rounded with health, not thin and hollowed by hunger or sickness. That was the Avari that this Charoda wanted, she realized. He did not want her as she was now, famished with hunger, feverish with illness, and screaming in the dark; he wanted her as she could be, healthy and whole and at peace.

Was that disappointment Avari was feeling, or relief? She couldn't tell. Even if she were well and clear-minded, she suspected she wouldn't be able to tell.

Still, though, in a way, he wanted her above all other things, which was a stunning enough revelation. As her mind slowly and painfully absorbed this knowledge, the Konti finally noticed she was trembling. She had never known anyone who cared more for her than anything else. It was confusing and frightening, yet somehow it made her feel as though she were more real and solid, more tied to the world, because someone else cared for her.

The petulant growl of her stomach brought Avari fully back into the present time. She was startled to find she was lying on a soft bedroll, which had already soaked a comfortable amount of warmth from the wall beside it. Worn out by the revelations gained from her Konti gift, she shakily reached for the blanket and curled up beneath it.

"You have the heart of a healer," she blurted out without meaning to. "Charoda, I know...believe me, I know you mean only the best for me. I...I..." The words came harder than she could ever have explained, and it was only the vision of his heart's desire that made her want to utter it at all. "I...trust you."

With that fatal word, Avari felt all her limbs slacken and relax, as though she had relinquished some great burden from her shoulders to his. Her spine felt as though it had turned to water. Surrendering to the sensation, because she had no other choice, she let herself collapse onto the bedroll and lie flat under the blankets, tucking her legs behind her like a child. Because she trusted her gift, for all that she despised it, she was trusting him to be true to what he wanted most.

Her stomach growled again, and the Konti slowly propped herself on one elbow. "By the way," she said, her faint smile audible in her voice, if not visible on her face, "didn't you say you were bringing food and water from the city?"

[Warden Thrice]

He could feel her breathing, feel her head move slightly, feel a shiver rise. He simply held on to her, completely unknowing of what to do. Never before had he felt so useless, unable to help his self-chosen ward when she obviously needed it. He couldn’t even tell if she was conscious or unconscious, or somewhere in between. Then, miraculously, she spoke. Eorar’s shoulders sagged in massive relief knowing that she was in fact not going to die from some unknown ailment. Her voice was soft, though it was thick with emotion. Eorar remained silent, sensing that what she was saying was important. Also, he wasn’t quite sure what exactly she was talking about, but somehow it affirmed him, let him know that she was doing alright and he had not done something wrong in some way. I trust you. The words held meaning, great meaning, meaning that Eorar knew he didn’t fully understand. Avari seemed to deflate, sinking onto the bedroll, and the Charoda nodded approvingly. He only hoped she would stay there for long enough for him to do something positive. Even he could hear her stomach when it rumbled, reminding him of what else he had not. “Oh, yes!” he said, cheery with sudden remembrance. He stretched for one of the waterskins and put it on Avari’s stomach. “This, water. Clean water. Don’t drinking too fast; five seconds to swallowing each mouthful. No more than half the skin.” Leaving her to it, he grabbed another orange and a handful of tailweed. Slicing the peel off as quickly as he could, he gouged out two segments and held them out to her with a single root of tailweed. “Here. Two orange, one root. Root will not tasting best, but you should eating it. Is best healthying for you.”

[Avari]

Greedily and thankfully, Avari reached for the waterskin on her stomach, pulled off the cap, and tilted a thin stream of water into her open mouth. The water was cool and flat upon her tongue. Obedient to the Charoda's instructions, she drank slowly and waited an interval of five heartbeats between sips of water. Somehow, despite her lifelong insistence on independence and self-reliance, it felt strangely good to have someone tell her what to do. If she were healthy, Avari suspected that she would rebel the way she usually did, but now that she felt sick and weak, she was oddly grateful for his orders.

After drinking enough water to moisten her dry throat and mouth, she felt the Charoda extending his hands toward her, offering another of those vian-tasting fruits and something that felt like a tiny plant root. "Orange," that's what he called the fruit. Heeding his warning about the root's taste, Avari chewed on the tart, sweet fruit segments first and left the piece of root until the very end. She screwed up her face at the first bite, which completely overpowered the crisp citrusy juices of the orange fruit, and spat a piece of root out before she could help it.

"Blech!" she gasped. "So bitter. You weren't joking, were you?"

More delicately, she nibbled tiny pieces of root and did her best to swallow them without chewing. "My aunt used to make me drink tonics that tasted like that when I got sick," she mused with a sigh, her mind drifting. "The nastiest, bitterest, most awful concoctions you can imagine. It got so I wouldn't tell anyone if I felt sick, just to avoid drinking those things. Konti like sweets and spices, but not bitter things..."

Her voice faded away as she swallowed the last bit of tailweed root, her mouth twisting in mild distaste. She uncapped the waterskin again and took another long drink of water. For the next few minutes, she and the Charoda settled into a companionable silence as they ate more oranges together and he gave her more of the tailweed he'd gathered. After each taste of tailweed, Avari insisted on swishing some water around her mouth to get rid of the bitter taste. Eventually, with a few judicious squeezes, she determined the waterskin to be about half full and, remembering the Charoda's injunctions, let it fall to her side.

For a moment, she considered offering to reimburse him for whatever he'd paid for the food, water, and bedding, before her innate self-interest asserted itself in her mind, albeit somewhat weakly. Gratitude, even in the face of illness, only went so far with this particular Konti. If the Charoda wanted repayment, let him ask.

For now, Avari was content to snuggle into the bedroll under the blankets, which were comfortable and not the least bit damp, as she'd been half-fearing they would be. Later, she would ask him what exactly those roots he'd fed her were and where they could be found, their very bitterness having convinced her of their medicinal value. Later, she would wait for his request of repayment, if he ever made one, and bring all her negotiating and bargaining skills to bear. Later, she would focus on getting better and learning more about him, perhaps even gleaning how it could be that a Charoda whom she had only encountered once or twice would feel so strongly about her well-being.

At the moment, though, Avari just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Sing me a song," she requested drowsily. "A lullaby from your homeland. You have those, don't you?" With a magnanimous air, she added, "You should get some sleep too, sometime. I promise I won't mind. After all," and here her mouth twisted into a small, wry smile, "it's not like I'll be going anywhere for a while."

[Warden Thrice]

Avari seemed to be taking his advice on the water, making sure to go slowly instead of gulping it down. He kept a careful ear on the sounds coming from her direction as she took her fill of water, then set into the orange segments. He jumped slightly at her reaction to the tailweed. “Charoda, too, but there aren’t being many sweet things underwater. Some kinds of kelp, but most everything salty. I thinking there are more sweeter things on land, but I don’t knowing.” He heard her drink some more water when she finished, and wordlessly handed her two more segments and another tailweed root. Silence descended on them; it was not uncomfortable, but neither was it easy. There was simply nothing else to say. Who was she? He was surprised that it was the first time the question had crossed his mind. He remembered their previous meeting in the bay, but he had not gleaned much about her personally. He knew that she lived in Zeltiva and scavenged, at least occasionally, but nothing else. Konti were rare, very rare, and though Eorar knew a smattering about them from his studies they remained quite mysterious. This one didn’t seem quite congruent with the stories he had been told, of soft voices and gentle ideals and a white land far to the north. He had a feeling that she was smarter than he thought, and her face had been lined with the worries of hardship. His thoughts were interrupted as she let out a small sigh and made a whole lot of rustling noise. “Song?” He blinked in surprised. “Er, alright…” He thought, sifting through his repertoire for something that wouldn’t sound completely horrid out of water. He only knew of one, and it wasn’t exactly what he would like to go to sleep to, but he was guessing that she didn’t speak Char. It might work. Trying to ignore his embarrassment, he started hesitantly. “There once were three crusty old crabs, and each had a crusty young daughter…” It was sung low, almost from his chest, and consisted mostly of humming and deep trilling with the occasionally chirp or croon thrown in. It would be alien to someone not acquainted with the language, and was similar, though more beautiful, to the sounds of dolphins. He crawled slowly over to his pile of belongings and pulled out the second winter blanket. He spread it as nearby to Avari as he could figure, then lay down. This was a very strange situation that he had found himself in, indeed. He stared at the darkness that was the ceiling, thoughts ceasing, and time began to blur. Soon enough, the song had trailed into nothingness and he was asleep.

[Avari]

The next day, Avari woke up with a fierce headache, a throat so dry that she wondered if it somehow had gotten covered with sand, and sweat seemingly covering every inch of her uncomfortably hot skin. In contrast, the fish-like scales on her neck, forehead, and limbs felt like chips of ice, making her shiver and squirm within her bedroll. She tried to draw a deep breath and burst into a round of sneezing. The darkness that greeted her open eyes was not nearly so frightening or unsettling as the discomfort and pain that afflicted her body. She had thought she was well now, after she'd gotten some food and water, but it seemed illness was trying to make one last stand.

In the dark, she fumbled for the waterskin and pulled out the cork with an effort. A fresh wave of sweat broke out over her entire body, and Avari gritted her teeth. Carefully, she tilted the waterskin to her lips and took a long sip of water, dislodging some of the sandy feeling in her mouth and throat.

By the gods, I am never getting sick again, she vowed grimly, not if I have to burn a dozen pounds of incense at Rak'keli's shrine or offer her an arm and a leg for her blessing. When is this damned fever or illness going to be over with?

She let the waterskin fall from her trembling hands, hating the feeling of weakness and helplessness. She had been ill several times during her sojourn in Zeltiva, and she had never gotten used to the feeling of not being in control of her own body anymore, nor of not being able to fight her own battles. Deep inside her body, some sort of illness was fighting against her natural resilience and health, and it made tears of rage come to Avari's eyes that she didn't even know how the fight was going, let alone how to help her body successfully wage its war.

Then, like a flash of inspiration, the Konti remembered that she wasn't alone here, as she usually was in times of illness. This time, even though she was helpless inside this pitch-black cave, she had an ally by her side that she trusted. It was the strangest feeling, to trust someone like this, yet she could not find it in herself to doubt that the Charoda was on her side anymore than she could doubt her own gift to tell her the truth.

Uncertainly, she tried to reach out a hand to one side, which brought her in contact with the odd, warm cavern wall. She tapped it once or twice, wondering if the sound might draw the Charoda's attention.

"Charoda?" she croaked out, her voice thin and hoarse. "Are you there? I...I..."

Avari took another deep breath through her mouth and let it out in a long sigh. It was never easy being ill, and one of the things she hated most about it was admitting her own weakness.

"I...don't feel so well," she rasped. "I need...your help. Please? Are you there? I feel so...hot all over. Like I'm burning. Please..." With an effort, the proud but feverish Konti forced the words out. "Help me."