lucetilogs | TERRACE Draft

[The rain does nothing to slow Walter as he moves through the mass of fighting bodies; the rainwater slides off of his hair and clothes, and he is so focused on the battle at hand that he does not mind the puddles. The lightning keeps him from going airborne, and so he instead slams his teriques into cultists or forms it into sphere to trap individual cultists.

It's a particularly large cultist wielding a warhammer that gives him trouble, especially when he takes the brunt of the weapon to the side with crushing force. He curses, face half-submerged in a pool of water he lands in as he struggles to cast a spell with his good arm.]

[Though the rain makes it harder for Mia to see, it hampers the cultists too, allowing her to make the most of her small advantage of invisible spellcasting. Walls of ice and frozen spires spring up around the battlefield; if she has enough time to focus, she can even aim some of them now.

She takes a few hits herself, but months of practice in combat techniques turned her into a competent fighter. The mace also helps. After the roar of a particularly nasty burst of thunder she hears someone splash to the ground nearby. Without checking to see who it is, a volley of Ice Horn goes in that direction, to drive away a potential attacker until she can get there.]

[The ice smashes into the large cultist but does not down him, and he unleashes his rage on another hapless draftee who is sent flying when the warhammer hits him as well. Walter's fingertips emanate a blue aura, spreading up to his arm as he finishes casting the spell while the cultist is distracted. Lightning seems to rise out of the ground, cleaving through the cultist in the form of Thunder Blade.

The cultist collapses, giving Walter a moment to struggle into a sitting position. Breathing hurts, his entire left side hurts, his arm only seems to come alive when he jostles it enough to feel the bones shift. Not something that a quick call to Nala would fix. Damn.]

[Seeing a different draftee sent flying by some kind of weapon spurred Mia into an even faster run. Whoever is over there is going to need help, whatever help she can give.

Then she sees just who is half-collapsed on the sodden ground. It's hard to see his face but it looks like he's in pain. Seeing the (massive, heavens) cultist appear to be trying to rise, and his bulky warhammer not too far away, Mia doesn't have a lot of time to think.

Instead, she acts. A wall of ice rises on silent command, spreading between him and his weapon; a different command, shouted this time but masked by thunder, brings forth a small blue creature and his devastating ice stalagmite.

That cultist will not trouble them any further.

Then she's on her knees, not caring about the water because they're both already soaked through, squinting into the rain to try and see just how bad it is for Walter, that he hasn't managed to stand.]

[Broken ribs? Maybe. That's just a distant thought in Walter's mind as he starts preparing another spell-- but the wall of ice disrupts his thoughts, and he sighs as he lets go of his concentration as the cultist is killed by another ice spell.

Even when his cloak, tangled against his body, is moved, it's difficult to tell there's damage -- such was the normal case with getting struck by blunt weapons. But he is breathing hard and irregularly, trying not to move his left arm as he drags his feet underneath himself to attempt standing.]

Mia...?

Stop moving.

[It is sharper and louder than she intended, but stopping him matters more than being gentle just now. With the fighting continuing around them, Mia can't see many courses of action to take here. What she can see is enough to tell her they aren't going anywhere.

The rain and wind and lightning don't help matters. What she wouldn't give for some of Kurt's or Alex's warping powers now. They should get inside or under cover somewhere, but how?]

You'll be okay, Walter. [Despite all of her concerned thoughts, it isn't an empty reassurance. She'll try to help him back to the ground, or at least support him in half-standing.]

I'm fine. [No, he's not. But he'll say so anyway, because that is how it's always been for him. A few broken bones weren't going to stop him. Hell, even if it was his leg that had been broken by that hit, he'd find a way to stay standing.

The fighting was still too close, and there was no decent cover nearby; if they were going to get somewhere safe, they would have to move. He tries to stand straight but regrets it when his chest complains.]

Can't stay here.

[She's on his uninjured side in seconds, holding him up as carefully as she can without putting pressure on the other side. It is hard to concentrate in the middle of all the noise and action. She'll do it anyway. This is, broadly, what she's trained for. To shut out the world and be able to heal somebody.

Which she does, with just a Ply at first. Testing the waters and trying to lessen his pain. The injuries that initial spell reveals make her wish even more for the gift to disappear from here and reappear somewhere safe. It's bad. It might even show on her face.

The nearest building is far enough away to make her consider staying. Even though they can't.]

Don't move too fast. If you cause yourself more damage I- [The rest is blurred by the lightning and thunder. She's okay with that.]

I won't... I'm fine. [Mia's magic mends the blood vessels damaged by the hit; if nothing else, his body would not have to focus on healing bruises and instead focus on the more hampering wounds. He doesn't make any noise at all, used to such healing sessions though it's been a long time. He simply blinks back rain from his eyes as he glances at her through his fringe of blond hair.

Then he's shoving Mia away with his uninjured arm before a cultist's sword can collide with her back, using his broken arm to punch the sword out of the man's grip. More lightning and thunder block out their struggle and yelling.]

[It shocks her so much to be thrown aside that she lands in a different muddy pool of water. What is he doing? The minute distance between her and impalement will register later.

She's up again in seconds, one hand extended and the other using the mace to hold herself steady. This takes a bit more concentration, it's rather unnatural. But the cultist fighting Walter freezes in place, pinned mid-strike by Halt.]

We don't have much time.

[Walter is again breathing heavily, and he doesn't waste time once he's recognized that Mia has stopped the cultist in his place. It's adrenaline and sheer anger that drive his next actions, as he summons his teriques to wrap itself around the cultist, spinning him and then flinging him across the battlefield in his paralyzed state.

He wavers on his feet, his broken arm sapping at his strength and concentration. But he stumbles back towards Mia, face pale but jaw stubbornly set.]

[Above all else, she doesn't like the way he's breathing. Cracked or broken ribs are bad enough, but if one of them pierced something in the struggle-

Then he's made it to her and she goes back to thinking about getting them both to somewhere safe, trying to shrug off the rain and the darkness. The doorway to a building is about thirty yards away. And there could be enemies in there.

But it's got to be better than this.]

[He can walk. He can talk -- somewhat. He can still fight. But Mia is with him, and the way she is trying to draw him away from the fighting keeps him from turning his back and attempting to join the fray again.

He keeps a steady pace when he realizes where Mia is trying to draw him; it does nothing for his breathing, but he wants to reach their destination quickly before Mia is further put into danger by his injured state. He can't trust himself to carefully check the interior of the building, slumping against the wet wall by the door with a barely audible groan.]

[Walking and fighting are so very different. She would argue with him about the 'can walk' part, too.

After helping him to the floor, she looks at the broken-off door and something in her expression darkens a great deal. Shortly thereafter the opening is sealed with another, smaller wall of ice. It's a bit chilly, but they aren't being rained on anymore.

It is still rather dark.]

Walter? Can you make a light? [She'll think of something else, if not. Using her Psynergy to figure out how to do that would interfere with trying to heal him, but they have very few options. On top of everything else, they're wet and cold. Even she is shivering at the edges.]

[Walter shudders as he rests on the floor, his wings uncomfortable underneath him and his injuries complaining. As the adrenaline fades from his body, he can feel the broken bones even more, and he shuts his eyes tiredly.

Mia's voice forces him from the edge of unconsciousness, and he turns his good hand over with a ragged sigh. A small ring of fire forms above his hand -- a formation learned from practicing with Eferin for so long.]

...Here.

[It will have to be enough. In the dimness she sees the shadowed corners of an empty room, and the weariness in Walter's face. She only needs the light for a short while.

Mia has almost never been so thankful for a handy knife. If she had a whole brightly-lit room she would still need a clearer view of Walter's injuries, and slicing through the fabric of his sleeve and shirt is the fastest way to do it. At least she knows where the damage is to start with.

She just didn't know how bad it was going to look from the outside. There is the slightest waver in her voice.]

I will try not to hurt you.

[He wants to sleep. His injuries are telling him to sleep, to let the weariness win. Without the adrenaline to keep him afloat, he has to concentrate on the fire floating above his hand and the sound of Mia's voice.]

You won't.

[He tries to keep his voice level, but he definitely sounds tired.]

This is nothing.

It's not nothing.

[Those are the last words she says. After that her mind is too busy and too focused. She can't even be gentle, setting his arm takes force and concentration. It's probably going to jerk him out of falling asleep.

But when she's done with that, and she casts a Ply Well strong enough to hopefully keep anything from shifting out of place in the next few minutes, she'll look him in the eye if one is available.]

I don't need the light anymore.

[He is silent even as Mia sets his arm, though there is a tense moment in which he holds his breath right before the bone is set back into place. He breathes shallowly and rapidly, clenching his good hand into a fist as he represses hisses of pain and discomfort.

When Mia speaks to him again, he releases Eferin's light, and the room is swallowed by darkness. He shuts his eyes wearily, pain blurring the desire to fall asleep.

Even so...]

Are you all right?

Yes. [And then, much more gently:] Stay still.

[Were Mia to keep her eyes open after she says that, the room would take on a faint bluish cast, light enough to see into the corners but not enough to put shine to details. All of her focus belongs on healing Walter, though, and that includes closing her eyes and no longer listening very well to the sounds of thunder and conflict.

Here, beyond the dampening barrier of Luceti, she has access to reserves she almost can't remember. She needs them, bones are tricky and slow at their best and the damage her Psynergy confronts now is enough to turn her stomach; she doesn't know if even with this much strength she can heal it all the way. Not at once.

On her end, the long silent minutes feel like hours. When she finally does stop, she's grateful for the darkness because it hides her exhaustion. It will not surprise her at all if Walter lost consciousness somewhere along the way.]

[There are moments where he blacks out, feels bones moves and shift in his arm and chest as they slowly mend themselves -- he succumbs to his body's reactions, breath halting and labored before very slowly returning to something more resembling a normal breathing pattern. He's cold and still in pain, but awake once again out of sheer willpower.

He doesn't try to move, even as an explosion rocks the battlefield not too far away.]

Damn...

[And she thought she was alone here in the darkness.

Mia's voice comes out soft, a bit forced, and surprised.]

You're awake? [If he can hear it, over the sound of rain and more distant explosions, she's trying to hide being out of breath.]

[He can't see very well, but he can make out the faint outline of Mia close by.]

...It's cold. [He's laying in a pool of rainwater, and his injuries are not doing much in ways of allowing him to regulate his body temperature.] We ... can't stay here.

[There was no way of knowing how long the fighting would go on outside. He could think clearly enough to acknowledge that.]

[It is cold. In the back of her mind Mia is aware of how hard she started to shiver. With no fire abilities and no actual fire, the most she could do would be to dry them off. And even that...it's still cold.]

I know we can't. [Short sentences. Thank goodness for the darkness that stops her vision from whirling.] But you...shouldn't get up.

[He manages a dry sound of acknowledgment -- of agreement -- at Mia's words, slow and trying not to move his aching left side. It takes him awhile to churn through his thoughts to come up with something to say.]

Is there ... anything here to burn?

Day 4

Day 4

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