Soothing Water

[Elfling]

Jason Heldenbrand had suggested that Lamai try healing within Myrken Town instead of plying her trade to those within the tavern. It had been a good suggestion, and until the plague hit, she had been quite successful. Yet, one girl could do little against scores of death, and people were quite quick to trust a Hospital lauded by the heros.

It had been disheartening. In the Chaos, she had vanished, unable to revel in yet another failure. Yet, at home, Lamai had found no solace in the arms of a child who had turned four years old. The older she got, the more she reminded her of Tag.. of David. It ached of old wounds that had never healed, though the Cathedral had been sunk under its Lake for nearly five.

Lamai Carver was a sweet picture of serenity. Strawberry hair was full from proper nourishment, and even the flesh on her bones seemed to have gained a luster to them. The lake's waters were receeding, but that didn't stop her from perching on a favored rock to watch the small waves lap at the sand. Her usual whites had been discarded with the rumors of white-robed people being attacked or held for questioning; instead, she had turned to soft blues that matched her eyes.

Her skirt had been folded modestly over knees that were bent. She leaned forward against her thighs, and arms had been wrapped around her legs. It was little more than a quiet, thoughtful pose of one lost in the midst of so much sorrow.

She could feel it, of course. Thirty dead from the plague. Thirty more from the sword that rose in the sky much like dark Spires once had. Just like the Spires, Myrken would forget the rising of the sword, and so many other things that it struggled through as the years wore on.

This forest healed. That, at least, she could be grateful for. In Town, Lamai had been driven to near madness with the buzz of terror, anger, and hate. So many negative emotions swam this way and that, and she soaked them all in like a sponge. Even as she sat, the heat had dried golden trails against her cheeks, giving them the glimmer as if she had dusted them with golden powder to mingle in with her freckles.

She could only imagine how Altias was holding up. She hadn't gone to see him; she couldn't face that she had left when he needed her. She had fled. Oh, she'd heard it all, of course. That the Govenor had nearly died, and that Ariane had stayed there throughout. It sprung jealousies within. Yet, there was little she could do.

She had given up her mortality.

[Thadius Dhrin]

"You are likely to catch a nasty sunburn, sitting in the open like that."

Soft, like words breathed in hopeful desperation between lovers just before dawn, the voice came drifting over the brittle grass to touch the waters edge. Thadius Dhrin had come to wash the blood from his robes. The crimson bundle, now stiff and stained with rust-colored fluids, was clutched in his thin, but toned, arms. A stark contrast to the pale blue linen trousers and black cotton shirt that draped his ivory flesh.

Silken hair of a silvery white flowed loose about him, despite the crushing heat. Small strands clung to his moist flesh here and there. Somehow he was still quite pale, despite all the sun. Not a man to wander about unnecessarily, he did spend a great deal of time inside when he could. Eyes of frosted malachite would move to rest on the young woman perched on the rock, a slight incline of his head as he knelt by the water.

"Good morning, my dear. I've not seen you here before."

A cursory look was all she was really given, as he unrolled his tunic, dropping it into the waters near his feet. Slender hands, missing the ring finger on the right, began to draw the cloth back and forth, allowing the water to begin to pick the bits of blood from the fabric.

"I fear it may be a loss. Pity, it was one of my favorites."

The man seemed not at all distressed by the amount of blood in the garment, nor did he make any attempt to hide it. It seemed as though, to him, this was the most natural thing in the world.

[Elfling]

Reverie was a distracting thing. Therefore, Lamai had neither heard nor felt the approach of another to the lake's shore. She gasped her surprise as her slender form went rigid.

Aquamarine eyes turned upwards towards a form that so briefly towered over her, until he knelt to begin to wash his clothing free of the blood that stained it. The crimson life was a stench of copper she knew too well, but it didn't stop a delicate nose from upturning softly.

"I've been away," she offered in her soft-spoken tones. Even so, the man earned himself a smile with his concern. Altias knew, of course. So did anyone else that might have been listening that night. Yet, she couldn't simply brush off concern offered to her.

"I will go inside, soon. It is.. much more soothing here. Away from all the .. terror." How could she explain that being so close to others drove her mad, at the moment? Even that she hadn't told Altias.