Closed Special Delivery, Part 2 (Shiress)

[Lucien Stalinsa]

Lucien's vision tunneled on the Zith as he concentrated solely on its slow rise to its feet. It would fly no more, but that did nothing to quell its rage. Pain ripped through the creature's body as it set its sights on the knight, the one who had caused it harm. It would be extremely difficult for the Zith to survive now - it couldn't fly and thus lacked its greatest advantage. Still, if the humans were slain, it would attempt to walk to safety. Its intentions were clear. It was surprising to see the Zith pick up the weapon, but not unheard of. Malice dripped from its countenance while it advanced on the blonde knight. With slow, deliberate steps, it seemed that the creature wished to instill dread in its victim to be. Neither initially noticed Shiress on the move, instead remaining focused on one another. The Zith advanced, while Lucien produced the near invisible Res into a slowly growing ball. A deadly clash seemed all but inevitable. Until Shiress intervened. The young bartender had retrieved his broadsword, bringing a grimace to the knight's expression. If she knew how to wield a blade, then The Rearing Stallion would not have sought the help of the Syliran Knights to help transport the supplies. She was risking far too much by getting involved, but the circumstances slowed the gathering of his Res, and therefore his ability to intervene. He couldn't risk shouting at her, lest he break his own concentration. The woman missed badly, injuring herself in the process. The sudden appearance of crimson was unmistakable against the white backdrop of the fields. The Zith seemed to sense her weakness as she screamed in pain, electing to abandon its pursuit of Lucien, opting instead to go after the injured woman, the one who had wounded him originally. No! Lucien cried out in his mind, forcing more Res from his being. The edges of his vision began to blur as the substance flowed forth. Cold ripped through his body as he attempted to rise to his knees, nearly faltering as the magic took a toil on his body. By the time he felt he had enough Res for the spell he sought to summon, the Zith was nearly upon Shiress, far too close for him to call on flame. Then, suddenly as the Zith had turned, Shiress drove the blade upward, the broadsword's edge slicing through the monstrosity's bone and flesh, leaving it a bloody mess on the ground. The surprise was apparent in both their faces, and would have been in Lucien's as well, if he hadn't begun to lose himself in his reimancy. He was out of practice, and it was tasking his body as it had when he was a babe in the ways of its power. The knight sat, almost dumbfounded, his arm out in front of him to maintain control of the Res. One moment there was Zith. Then a heap on the ground. He felt someone crawling on him, up his frame. Zith?! No...It's... Shiress' words reached the knight's ears, though they sounded as though they were travelling through water. He turned his gaze on the bartender, almost in a daze. "Huh...what? Yes..yes..I'm fine." The woman's hand brushed his bang aside, but what he noticed was the black shadow baring down on both of them from the skies. Shiress was too close, too exposed for him to effectively fight the Zith from their current whereabouts. She was clearly a beacon for trouble. "You..must...not.." His words failed him. The winds, the Res, the blinding snow. He couldn't communicate through them all, so the knight would do what he had sworn to do, to himself, to Tyveth, and to the Windoak. He would protect. Lucien took his free hand and rolled Shiress to the side, moving with her to provide protection, his own body acting a shield from the oncoming claws and spell. The decision didn't leave him with enough time to send the spell far enough away to save him from the consuming flames, but he knew the risk when he pledged himself to the order. The ball of Res shot forth to meet the descending shadow. Lucien willed the substance to ignite, not having the time to worry about control or carefully controlling the burn. In a brilliant flash, the cloudy ball burst into a searing flame. Lucien and the assaulting Zith both cried out in pain simultaneously. Scents of burning skin and fur were briefly noticeable despite the intense storm. The firebolt disappeared as quickly as it appeared, but not before doing its damage. The Zith plunged to the ground, writhing in pain. Deep burns marred its chest and face, injuries made only worse by its thrashing in the snow. Lucien fared marginally better, his left hand, the one he cast from, developing a multitude of blisters from the sudden heat. Pain. So much pain! Lucien rolled away from Shiress, bringing his hand protectively against his body. He wanted to check on the bartender, but the injury temporarily stole his ability to speak. All he could do was turn his eyes on the chestnut haired woman, trying to hide the hurt in their depths. Beyond the severely wounded Zith, Lucien hoped the immediate threat was over. He needed to gather himself so he could finish off the creature and see about figure out their next step.

[Shiress]

"I must -not- what?"

Shiress frowned "Are you sure you-" The remainder of the girl's question was cut off and replaced by a breathless grunt, as Lucien's arm pulled her into the snow, his armored body covering hers.

Pinned in place, she opened her eyes, only to force them closed again, as heat blanketed her face. Lucien cried out in pain and so did something else. Jerking herself upright, Shiress scrambled to her knees, gaping at Lucien, eyes wide, mouth falling open.

"What..what was that?!"

She wasn't entirely sure what had just happened or what had caused it, but, brushing back wet strands of hair from her eyes, the bartender pulled herself to the man's side, gaze finding the hand cradled against his body. Hesitantly, a trembling hand reached for his. "Lucien, let me see." Slowly, the Knight freed his left hand and Shiress took it, grimacing, as she rotated his wrist. The burn was bad and getting worse. Blisters and bubbled skin covered his palm, some merging into others, creating larger blisters, even as she looked. The burn would deepen, unless the heat was drawn out.

Letting the Knight's injured hand rest against her thigh, she ripped a section of fabric from her skirt, leaving thick, red trails of blood, evidence of her own injury, behind each touch. Scooping up snow, she filled the bandage and pulled the edges together, before placing it, carefully, against the burned flesh . "This will..." she began, but a loud moan, tipping on the edge of a growl, came from behind her, causing her body to convulse with fear.

Shiress slid her green eyes from Lucien, to the Zith, both writhing and still, in turns, and then back to Lucien, confusion evident. The girl guided Lucien's hand back to his chest, careful to keep the compress in place. Staying the same motion, the glimpse of weapon hilt catching her gaze, her hand left his, trailing along his side, toward where a dagger was sheathed at his hip. Pulling Lucien slightly toward her Shiress slid the dagger free and stood. "I can do this" she said, pulling in a shaky breath, unsure if the reassurance was for herself or the Knight, as she took a hesitant step toward the crumpled, moaning mass.

Fearing the thing would come off the ground in a fury, the blade was readily positioned to strike, while her steps brought her to the creatures feet. Whether or not the Zith sensed her, saw her, or smelled her, it knew she was there, and flung its hands from his fur covered face, revealing a snarl. Shiress pounced, unthinking, sending herself stumbling, blindly, over large, thick legs, half hidden in the snow. She fell, straddling the creature, the dagger sinking into the Zith's chest.

Shiress, however, was rigid, frozen, in the last motion of a downward thrust, green eyes fixed on the open, lifeless gaze staring back at her, a white knuckled hand still gripping the hilt of the dagger. A memory, like a bolt of lightening, licked across the surface of her mind.

The sound of her own footsteps crashing through the forest floor.

The continuous glances thrown back, over her shoulder.

A large, winged shadow, stalking, hunting, threatening.

Chest heaving, Shiress fell backwards off the dead Zith, staggering to her feat.

It was snowing.

Lifting her face, the girl forced her eyes opened against the frozen flakes. There were no trees around her, but she was sure there should be trees. Another memory, flashed, and her eyes fell, darting back and forth, searching, but not seeing. They searched, instead, for a memory to force to the surface of thought.

She screamed, or, did she remember screaming? She planted a hand across her lips, stumbling backwards in deep snow, unbidden tears pooling into her eyes, as they fell to the body before her, gradually being covered in red stained powder.

Suddenly, the beast lunged at her, black wings spreading, lips peeling back in a snarl, a massive arm swinging out from a thick, fur covered chest, to sink razor sharp claws deep into her flesh.

Closing her eyes, Shiress threw her arms up between her and the monster.

The pain was unreal. Born in her thigh, agony radiated throughout her body, down her limbs, to fingertips and toes, and back, to settle in her leg, as a deep, dull throb.

She opened her eyes, lying naked, surrounded by tress, eyes blinking against bright sunlight, stretching down through the canopy.

She opened her eyes, still standing, swaying, with a hand cupped over her mouth. The Zith, still lifeless and still in front of her, blood seeping around the dagger embedded in it's throat. Trembling, Shiress lifted her injured hand, glaring at the blood, the gashes, and the bone visible in the deepest wound, carved into her palm. The other hand found the raised, thick scar on her thigh, beneath the layers of skirt.

Stomach churning, strength left her and her knees buckled. Shiress sank into the snow, her body heaving, as her stomach expelled it's contents into the snow.

Scrubbing a sleeve across her mouth, she turned her gaze upon Lucien, tears paving pale lines down her dirty cheeks, as her lips parted to speak.


"It's dead, now.." she said, just before a massive hand slammed her backward into the snow. The Zith heaved itself atop Shiress, one massive hand curling around the girl's neck, the other pulling the dagger from its own thick chest, slamming it into hers, in the same swift movement.

Shiress' eyes widened in horror, lips parting in a silent scream, as the blade sunk deep into her shoulder. A numb, painless warmth charged through her body, as a cold and distant awareness sunk into her mind. Shiress slowly slid her hand to the hilt of the dagger, trailed down to where it met with her flesh, feeling the warm, thick liquid ooze beneath her fingertips, before letting her hands fall away. The Zith watched as awareness of her injury settled into Shiress' features, his mouth twisting in a satisfied snarl.

Shiress pulled her eyes away from the beast, her head falling to the side, the sting of the dagger making her wince. It was hard to breath, each breath deliberate now. It was hard to think. There was a nothing, a void, waiting for Shiress to enter, but just in passing.

...why do I linger...

The Zith stepped away from her, and briefly, her thoughts trailed along the surface of the present.

...Lucien

A hard, long intake of breath left her mouth in the form of a high pitched scream, as Shiress pulled the dagger from her body and rolled to her stomach. Drawing back her arm, she flung the weapon toward the Knight. The blade 'dinged' as it hit against a boot.