Closed Lightning and Glass

[Cithius Wintersun]

60th Summer, 520

The Azure Market was closing up fast, which felt unusual. First, there was not nearly as many vendors because of the rain. Looking at the clocks in the market, it wasn’t actually any sooner than normal, but there was a rush to most people’s step as they packed away their wares for the rest period, ready to escape the thunder storm. A few well known food vendors were taking their time, clearly finding the weather worth the sacrifice, as food seemed to be the only reason people wanted to be out this morning. And a couple more brave vendors who either kept their wares safely out of the rain or which the rain did not bother them. And here he was, looking for rosehips and cloves for his mother.

“Wait, wait, do you have any cloves?” He jogged towards a vendor that was sealing up his pots of spices. He looked at the young man, and sighed. “I just packed it in the cart, I'll--" He paused as a deafening roar of thunder claimed the conversation. Once it was done, the vendor spoke again. "I’ll dig it out for you for twenty-five.” He said, not particularly rude, but clearly not wanting to get stuck in the market longer than he had to.

“Isn’t it normally twenty?” He asked, trying to keep the shock on his face from the price. Why was his mother so adamant on getting Cloves? Normally Cithius was happy to get whatever herbs his mother needed, because it was the few times she seemed to shake herself from her sorrow and do something with him, directing him on which herbs to put in his philters to get the desired affects. Where she had the knowledge of the herbs, he knew how to extract what she needed… mostly. But with all of the thunder and rain, he hadn’t been able to busk as much as normal, leaving his pockets light with Kina. Not enough for an ounce of Cloves, it seemed.

“Convenience fee.” The vendor spouted, and Cithius shrugged. He couldn’t pay it.

“How about Rose Hips?”

“Two very different flowers, buddy.”

“I need both, but I can come back for the Cloves.” Cithius shrugged. The vendor nodded and pulled a large clay pot from his cart, opening it and scooping out some rose hips.

“How much you want? Five per ounce.”

“Just one, please.” While he measured on his scale, Cithius pulled out his jar, setting it on the counter behind the scale. Lightning cracked as he set it down, and Cithius jumped slightly when the roll of thunder came so immediately afterward. Count the seconds after the lightning, and that is how many miles away it is. His father had told him as a child. The fact that the thunder happened so immediately meant…. It was close. Cithius didn't want to think about how close. He would have to be careful crossing the bridges.

“You live on Zintia?” The vendor asked, a friendly concern for a returning customer in his voice. He cleared his throat afterward, and Cithius did the same, not wanting to present his own uncertainty with the weather. The storm had come on very quickly, perhaps the lightning God was mad today.

“No, Sharai, but I’ll probably stick around until it blows over.” He lied, knowing he was going to be high tailing it home. His dog, Maoli, was probably whining under his mother’s bed by now.

“Stay safe, kid.” The vendor handed him a half full jar of rose hips, and Cithius pulled five Kina from his pocket, placing it on the man's scale and nodding.

“Thank you, you too.” Cithius nodded, slipping the jar back into his pack, and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He tried to keep his pace even on the way out of the market, but once he was winding through the avenues and alleys of the Zintia peak, finding his way back to the west bridge, he found his pace quickening. There wasn’t a lot of fear in Cithius life, it was fairly boring. But lightning was not known for caring about these things, if it chose to land on him, it would. Finally the winding streets opened up to the Sharai bridge. There were a few people walking with purpose as well, trying to get home for the rest of the dawn period, but very few seemed to be actually crossing the bridge, and those that did were jogging. Cithius himself hesitated in his step, but with the false sense of security that came with the human ego. I’ve never been struck before, I’m hardly going to get struck now. Long strides brought him closer to the bridge, and he was keenly aware of the people surrounding him, a few humans and an Ethaefal headed towards the bridge with him, a blonde girl was just stepping off the bridge, patting down her hair as the static lifted her bangs from her head. Cithius’ gate paused as she saw the odd sight, wondering how she has gotten static in her hair by just walking across skyglass…

The world around them lit up suddenly in a light blue spectacle, an ear shattering sound ringing in his ears. Cithius head was turned, watching the pale haired girl so he did not see the flash hit the bridge, but he felt it, even on the solid ground of the Zintia peak. The air seemed to compress and expand so quickly around him, pulling any hope of breath from his lungs and choking him. The ground lurched beneath him, forcing his knees to crumble as he tried to catch himself, and something stung his shoulder and cheek, perhaps with the breaking of what he thought to be Zintila’s indestructible gift. Someone screamed, and his head snapped forward towards the bridge to see the magnificent skyglass shattering midair, brilliant specks seemed to hold what was left of the lightning, flying in every direction… and right towards him, although it would still be a few seconds before he realized this. The long drop that he had not considered for a number of years was suddenly morbidly clear in his mind as he noticed two figures frozen midair, surrounded by shattered glass. The world did not seem to pause for a moment, as he had heard it stories. But rather his senses had so much more to take in at once, and his mind not yet processing that he was watching these two strangers die, and could do nothing for it.

Only once the broken parts of the bridge disappeared and the figures fell into the abyss, did he lurch forward, losing his balance and landing on his knees again, a choked “Holy shit” echoing from his mouth, far too late. As if the lightning would hit them again, he scrambled to his feet more secure in his step now, one arm extended towards the person closest to him, though he was too far to grab them “C’mon, get near the buildings.” He gasped to them, but did not move, standing once again towards the bridge, eyes drawn to the valley below, as if he could see the figures any longer in the dark stormy morning. Or as if he could do anything for them….

[Lily Maier]

There was a very particular pleasure in walking through a curtain of rain. Chilled bones and skin covered by goose bumps beaten by heavy droplets relentlessly. Clothes soaked through so thoroughly they may never become dry again. Much like jumping into the rived fully clothed, walking in the rain too felt like some taboo which Lilly never broke for fear of her overprotective grandmother’s punishment. Now as an adult she took some satisfaction in the rebellion, even if the old woman’s words still echoed warning in the back of her mind.

The river fell from the sky in tiny streams, covering the streets os Lhavit in lustre and bathing the skyglass structures. Even beneath a dark grey sky and a canopy of clouds, this city was beautiful. Too bad that if Lily’s silly little adventure in the rain was to continue, she would surely be observing this beauty from her window; curled up in bed with a sniffly nose and a fever.

She hadn’t even made it half way to the orchard on Sharai, before Lily began to quickly change her mind about this escapade. Though a quick step flushed heat into her cheeks; thick layers of clothing weighed her down and the footpaths became so slippery she had stumbled over more than once. And, as if just to insult her lightning and thunder flashed before her eyes yelling: go back home little girl. You’re no mach for a raging storm.

It was hardly pleasant to admit one’s own defeat, but Lily did indeed turn on her heel in the middle of the huge skyglass bridge that linked Zintia and Shinyama. And that single decision would be forever etched into her memory as the single best decision she’d ever made.

What happened next was a blur. Barely had she the chance to plant her feet on Zintia once more, the world before her eyes lit up and her ears filled with the detaining roar of thunder. Long cracks, like veins, shattered the skyglass bridge and shards fired in every direction like icy arrows. One of the smaller, nastier arrows stabbed right though Lily’s shoulder, sending her flying forward, face first into the nearest building with a scream of horror. Yet, in the cacophony of all the other screams, she was no soloist, just part of the choir.

Had she blacked out for a moment? Or maybe just felt like she had. But once Lily regained any control over her body it hurt everywhere. Blood covered her face, pouring from a cut on her forehead. Her shoulder burned with the kind of pain she never imagined as her hands grabbed for the shard lodged in her back. Yet, delicate as she was, just a touch made the pain all the more unbearable. In spite of herself, tears flowed down her cheeks. She was hurt - but at least she was alive.

[Cithius Wintersun]

There were a few echoes of screams across the valley between the peaks, and Cithius was distracted again, looking towards the Shinyama Peak as if he could see that far in the gloomy morning storm. His cheek was singing a painful lullaby to him, making the thick dripping rain on his right cheek feel warm and sticky rather than icy and sharp like the rain on the rest of his body. Unconsciously he reached up and brushed a few fingers on his cheek, immediately hissing as the pain multiplied with the touch. “Shit.” The Bard grunted, suddenly very aware of the pain, distracting his thought away from the destruction before him. He quickly wiped his fingers on his cloak, picking up the side of the wool garment and pressing it against his cheek. He felt the sting of something grind further into his skin and immediately dropped the cloak. There was probably glass in there, and pressure wasn’t going to help at the moment.

The close by gasp of pain dragged Cithius’ attention away from the dark abyss and the despair the image seemed to shove into his heart. He glanced to his left and saw the pale haired girl, her stringy wet bangs now clashing with the crimson blood that was quickly forming on her forehead. Again it took the man a few moment to stir himself to action, his feet turned as if by their own accord, shoving forward in uneven and heavy steps, approaching the building and the girl that was flung against it. She was grabbing at something on her shoulder, and his stomach rolled when he realized she was trying to pull out glass. He knew almost nothing about what was medically best, but the idea of the blood gushing out after the removal of the glass… he didn’t think he would stay conscious if he witnessed that.

“Don’t!” He commanded, too forcefully in his shock and concern, and held out his hand to the stranger to make it easier for her to stand. His tired eyes had never felt so focused, as he took in the blood forming on her sleeve and dripping down her face. But a quick glance found no blood in her lower extremities, or anything that looked as if she couldn’t use her legs. “Can you stand?”

Beside them, someone else was crying, and Cithius turned his head to look at the person, covered in a leather half-cape, and holding their thigh with both hands. There didn’t seem to be blood coming from between his fingers, but the man’s knee didn’t appear to be at the right angle… or even close to what it should have been, splayed out to the side in an impossible feat. Impossible because no knee was meant to bend that way… not on its own.

“We should probably get some help.” Cithius spoke, a slight panic in his voice, and he turned back towards the girl, taking in her injuries too. “We need to get you to the Catholican.” He said, trying to be more calm while helping the girl stand, but he couldn’t help his pounding heart, and the unbearable energy that felt like he needed to Run. If she took his offer of help, Cithius would grip her forearm with his other, still slightly bloody hand, hauling her up into a standing position without wincing at the sharp pain that bit into his right shoulder as he did so. He felt it, but at the moment his brain seemed not to deem the pain as important. Surely if it had, he wouldn’t have been able to pull her up as easily, crippled by the distraction of pain. But it didn’t feel the same as his cheek, of which something was clearly imbedded, but rather his shoulder seemed to have a longer cut. Perhaps bigger glass found its home in his shoulder joint, perhaps it was just a cut. Regardless, he didn’t want to look at it. “Can you walk?”

[Lily Maier]

The gods had a plan beyond her understanding. Of that she was sure. And even in this moment, where the world felt like a bad dream to her, the gods came through and placed someone in Lilly's path. A stranger. But at least she wouldn't have to suffer this alone. And that was enough to make Lilly grit her teeth against the pain pulsing through her wounds. Today was not the day to just give up.

Her hand halted almost mechanically as she heard the stranger's voice. The sting overpowered clear thought and the senses took over, manoeuvring her body as if she was a puppet on invisible strings. Tearful eyes looked up at the stranger, barely managing to record his appearance before realising he too was hurt. An angry shard of glass was lodged deep in his cheek.

“We need to get you to the Catholicon.”

Lily nodded. "Yeah... you too."

She breathed in deep and pulled herself up, grateful for his hand and aid in doing so. And even though her legs trembled beneath her mercilessly she refused to give her pain and fear more lip service than an occasional wince and a swear beneath her breath. For barely had she gotten up to her feet, she saw others in far worse states than herself. A man hunched over the crevice weeping and clenching the ground with bloodied fingers. One of the dead was surely a relative or a friend. Another leather clad man, with a broken leg. She recognised him. Not 3 days ago had he come for a meal at her work place. There was also mother standing right up against the wall, with shock painted upon her face and a child of about 10 years hiding in her skirts, traumatised.

Lilly took another look around as the world around them settled into a cruel reality, but at least the thunder seemed to move further away. She waved over to the mother, reluctant to leave the leather clad man alone in all this, as the two of them fled to lick their wounds. "Come. Come, pease! This man needs help!." she carried, gesturing desperately.

Sometimes Lily surprised herself with just how loud her voice could get when adrenaline coursed though her veins. Cutting through the violent drumming of the rain against cobblestones, her pleas caught the attention of quite a few abled bodies around. The mother, the man at the edge both came to her aid.

"His knee is broken." she cried, not asking for names. "Get him indoors and lay it flat against the floor until a doctor comes." She knew she couldn't dress that wound by herself or even try to help. She had wounds of her own. And so did her fellow stranger. However, the state the two of them were in, by the time they made it to the Catholicon, another hour might pass. Thus her eyes settled on the boy.

"You!" she pointed at him, looking him up and down and ascertaining that other than fear there was nothing else wrong with him. "Run to get help. Catholicon, Shinya on patrol, anyone. Fast as you can!" The boy looked at her for a moment puzzled. "Go!" She yelled before he finally unfroze and took off.

Alas she looked to her companion. Handsome as he was, he wasn't going to maintain a pretty face if that wound didn't get looked at. "Come on. You're bleeding and so am I." she said as she held out her trembling hand. Fingers so cold they looked almost white. Should he take it, she'd hold his hand tight hoping that at least the presence of another living being would bring him some comfort in all this horror.

[Cithius Wintersun]

Now that Cithius was aware of the pain in his cheek and shoulder, and the exhaustion in his lungs and legs, it was harder to stay motivated to stand still. Everything inside of him spurred him to Run Away. But the blonde girl was not succumbing to the pain, snapping into action with a vigor he could not imagine, and she looked worse than him. Well, if she can do it, so can you.

Cithius took the moment while she was snapping orders to take in the damage. His vision had been so tunneled, he wasn’t aware of the greater damage. The bridge was gone, but the roots of the skyglass that the Constellations had attached to the side of the cliff still stood, reaching out from the pale Lhavit rock into the nothingness of the stormy sky that broke the connection between the mountains. There was shouting and crying on the other peak, he could hear them, but not see them. A selfish thought struck in his mind, as he approached the man with the broken leg, taking the character in.

He was an older man with midnight dark skin and sheepswool for hair. He had a well-groomed beard and a scar interrupting his left ear lobe. What Cithius was sure would normally be a wise, brave, or cheerful face was twisted in pain and shock as he struggled with his leg. The blonde girl was snapping orders, trying to shake the shocked still civilians into action, and Cithius just wanted to get the man with the broken leg out of the open air, afraid the lightning would strike again to finish what it started. Cithius’ mouth felt dry and his tongue was heavy, making speech an impossible dream at the moment. With his right hand, he lightly touched the man’s shoulder, alerting him to his presence.

The man hardly noticed, but Cithius felt the pang reverberate in his shoulder with the movement. Deciding that his own pain was not a good enough excuse to not help, Cithius leaned down to loop his left shoulder under the man’s arm pit, trying to support his weight and help him stand. The crying man was late to catch Cithiu’s wordless thoughts, his face contorted with pain as well. For a moment, Cithius wished he was a painter and could capture the two very distinct pains that these men wore on their faces. One of loss, and one of injury. Perhaps there was pain on his own face too, but Cithius’ clouded mind could not figure out what it meant.

The man with the broken leg cried out when the crying man swooped under his other shoulder, and both the men stood up, carrying the smaller weight of the leather caped one between them. He hadn’t prepared himself for the joint effort, and his leg moved oddly as gravity tried to straighten it out. If Cithius’ ears weren’t already ringing from the clap of lightning, he would probably be winced at the gargled sounds the man was making.

If they are crying, they are going to be okay. It’s the ones that don’t feel their wounds that you should worry about. His mother’s voice echoed in the back of his mind, and he found a small comfort in the screams of agony. He knew there were qualifications for that rule, but couldn’t remember what they applied to, and didn’t find his brain dwelling on it too much. But before Cithius and the crying man could start walking towards the building under the blonde girl’s direction, three uniformed Shinya appeared.
“Hey, what’s wrong with him?” One woman appeared at Cithius’ side quicker than he was anticipating and he jumped. “Sorry. What’s wrong with him?” She repeated, immediately putting her hands on the caped man’s face and inspecting his eyes.

“I- uh, he doesn’t seem to be bleeding.” Cithius said, his words coming out a little slow, as if it took extra effort. She shouted something quick and inaudible back to her partners, and Cithius felt as if the traumatic event was clashing with the real world, and he wasn’t prepared to fight through the fog of it all. He glanced around for the blonde girl, who had quickly established herself as the best equipped to deal with the event.

“Yes, what’s wrong with him?”

“Leg.” The crying man answered for Cithius, the tears no longer streaming from his eyes, and a grim determination settled on his face. He held up the leather clad man mostly on his own now, who was only wincing and growling at the pain now, having gotten a handle on himself. Cithius was the only one left still trying to put together the events in his mind. The small burst of adrenaline he had gotten immediately after wore off quicker than he would have liked, and now he felt as if he was wading through mud. The Shinya woman slipped her arm under Cithius’ manually detaching the weak link so that she could help the crying man walk the leather clad man away from the bridge. One other Shinya came to help her, and the other started herding the mother and child away from the bridge as well, checking where they were bleeding as he did so.

"Come on. You're bleeding and so am I." The blonde woman spoke now, her hand extended to him instead. He looked at it for only a second before latching on with his left hand, no longer wishing to move his right arm at all, unsure how bad the damage is. The Shinya would take care of things now. Like any proper Lhavitian citizen, Cithius trusted this statement as fact as soon as he thought it, visibly relaxing him. Only once he could see the Shinya helping the citizens and feel the warmth of another, even if it was a stranger, with him, did he find his voice coming out much more evenly, the fogginess in his brain starting to subside, pushed away by the pulsing pain in his cheek and shoulder, like aggressive waves eating away at the receding shoreline of his shock.

“We should probably go get a doctor over here.” Cithius repeated, two long strides taking him and the girl further from the scene. The need to run was gone now, as the adrenaline wore off, and the trek to the Catholican on the TenTen seemed more than he would have liked at the moment, but when they sent doctors back to the site, the less patients they had to treat away from the facilities, the better.

Tired brown eyes took in her delicate pale face again, which was now covered in blood. The wound was most likely going to need stitches, or maybe it seemed bigger than it was because the rain pulled the blood down her face. An inverted and lopsided ‘V’ marked her face with crimson blood, seeping down between her brows and past her nostrils and crawling down her chin, staining her shirt. The rain washed out most of the stream so it wasn’t gruesomely red, although there was still more blood on her face than looked comfortable. Cithius pulled the wet kerchief from his pocket, with his right hand, shaking it out delicately and placing it on her forehead with a stiff shoulder, doing his best not to wince too harshly as the cut stretched and caught on the fabric of his sliced coat. He could feel the wet cold rain seeping in through the holes to his wound, and it didn’t feel pleasant. Carefully he pressed against her wound, trying to sop up the blood before too much came out.

And then he laughed, pulling her right hand that he held in his left and placing it on her forehead for her, so that he could give his right arm a break. But the bubbling chuckle was breaking its way out of his chest as he realized scarcely ten minutes have passed since. “That was wild.” And then he remembered that while all had survived on the peaks, there was an unknown number lost to the valley below, and his chuckled dried up, a morbid frown in replacement, and he huffed a sigh.

“I guess it would help to call you something other than the ‘blonde lady’ in my mind.” He muttered, placing his left hand on her upper back so they could start walking again. It was going to be a long hike before they got help and Cithius wasn’t going to let this stranger disappear from him until he got her to the Catholican. “My name is Cithius.”

[Lily Maier]

To a native Lhavitian, the sight of Shinya was always a welcome one. Fine weapons and armour almost exclusively seemed to signal safety even at times where to be certain of such was foolish. There was a freedom in unloading one’s moral obligation to their fellow man on another, more qualified. The moment the Shinya appeared, Lily told herself everything was going to be ok. Whether there was truth in that sentiment or not, seemed irrelevant now.

Funny how times of calamity revealed the true hearts of men. And with her own eyes Lily would see right through Cithius’ noble heart indeed. Neither a soldier nor priest, none the less, in spite of his own pain, he helped the others carry a wounded man out of the rain. Wounds be damned, that heroic heart seemed to beat stronger than any pain could. No wonder, when the man came to assess her own wound, she’d give herself into his care instinctively, so taken was she with that display of true nobility.

A smile broke through her wince as the handkerchief covered the cut on her forehead. Feeling a little silly for the sudden skip in her heart, she was quick to hold it there herself as instructed. He too chuckled… ever so slightly but chuckled none the less. She wasn’t imagining it. How was it that even in moments like this, another’s presence could prove a comfort? This revelation only made Lily more aware of the loneliness in her own heart.

Snapping out of it a little once the tender moment was replaced by a deep thrown on the man’s face, Lily looked around, assessing the situation. The young boy was still nowhere to be seen. And relaying that information to her fellow she replied. “He’s not back yet. The boy. Perhaps he’s on his way to the Catholicon and by the time we reach it, there will be an army of doctors on on their way here. Still… Won’t hurt if we go check. AIn’t no use either of us sitting here twiddling our thumbs.”

Practical as always, was Lily. There would be time for tears and mourning later. Time for tending to their wounds and cleaning blood from their clothes. Perhaps they’d stain and shopping for new clothes would be in order, symbolically discarding this whole ordeal from memory alongside. For now wounds were too fresh to even begin thinking about the possibility of scars.

“Lily.” She replied, grateful for his presence and touch, not only for comfort but also because her legs were shaking beneath her so much that she feared tripping. Suffice to say Lily looked a lot calmer than she was. And though adrenaline still coursed through her veins, keeping her lucid, dilating her eyes like those of a cat calculating it’s next pounce, the rest of her body would soon betray weakness of a delicate body and a lack of experience with such tragedies. Never mind the pain pulsing through her shoulder as the glass remained stuck in it. If anything she could admire only more how, having sustained wounds himself, Cithius still displayed such selflessness.

Cithius…. A name she wasn’t quick to forget.

“Are you ok?” She asked before biting her tongue. What a stupid question? How could one be ok after all this? Yet, somehow, no better words came to mind. “Did you… did you see what happened? I mean… you know.”

Stumbling over her words as they walked, one could barely believe it was the same girl who, seemingly moments ago, displayed bravery and confidence of her own. None the less, she was certain, perhaps foolishly, that if she just managed to keep up some sort of a conversation with him, the walk to the medical centre of Lhavit would feel shorter somehow. If she could just keep her mind occupied and her lungs breathing rhythmically… It was then that, sluggish as they were, her feet knotted like yarn beneath her, sending her to the ground once more. Such a thump of her momentarily useless body reverberated through the streets that it almost startled two young Okomo who, much like Lily just hours prior, used the weather as an excuse for a bath. Their great horned heads now both turned to the pair of unfortunate humans inquisitively.