The Samaritan (Edreina)

[Nathaniel Ankah]

Nate didn't spare the woman so much as a glance as she made her move; he had far larger, sharper and faster-moving problems to worry about.

"Stupid!"

He'd regained his balance for barely a tick after kicking out half of Justin's teeth before Jez was on him, curved dagger slicing through the darkness like midnight lightning. Nate instinctively swung wide, trying to keep him away, only for the black to sway from him, much like Edreina did to avoid Baldy's club-

-then dart in fast as a snake's tongue, dagger scoring a vicious cut down his forearm from elbow to wrist-

"Fuck!"

-and the mace fell with a leaden clatter to the cobbles, Nate reeling away, Jez closing, kicking the metal bludgeon away from him.

"Stupid, Nate," he said, voice low and venomous now, eyes wide and watchful but body... composed. Not hyped or angry or jittery with eager bloodlust. Just... ready. "Should have walked. You want die here? For her? You fucking problem."

He'll bleed you out. He's a patient one, and he knows how to use that thing. You can barely even hold your kukri right, let alone-

Wood thudded hard on the cobbles and Baldy's club smashed down just a few feet away from Nate, Jez and the struggling, awakening Justin. The two warily-circling fighters flicked a glance over and saw a snapshot-

Baldy's head oozing something nasty from a fractured skull.

Edreina moving fast towards them, unarmed, seeking to head around them-

Jez lurched forward, a beat of ill-discipline, not wanting to lose his prey-

Use what you have, boy.

Nate dropped like a stone, knees bending as if they weren't there, snatching up the club and hurling it at the black. Forcing him to say back and away, arm slashing out of instinct, clouding and crowding his gaze for a brief tick-

-and when he did, he'd see his vision filling and then over-filling with a roaring, charging Nate-

-who tackled him across the chest, feet leaving the ground as he threw every pound of his weight behind him, left hand fumbling for Jez's wrist on his dagger hand-

-but not finding it as they both crashed into the wall, both of them pressed together, clawing at each other like kids on the playground, only Jez held the means to change that-

-Nate knew what he'd go for. Quick blow; killing blow. This close, Jez wouldn't get the chance again. So close he could slam that dagger through Nate's side and into his heart, and so he dropped his arm in the way-

-threw his head back and screamed at the stars as that dagger buried itself in his arm, almost punching through it-

-and Jez pushed him away, trying to rip his dagger free-

Some bright, growling, unburdened part of Nate refused to let go so easily. Even as his body shuddered and choked on itself with pain, he managed to twist himself away as he fell, pulling the dagger from Jez's hand, leaving it jammed in his arm.

"Fuck you, Nate," Jez said, voice a snarl now, angry and tired. Nate heard rather than saw Baldy's club scratch against the stone... and he knew Jez had rearmed. "Fuck you, being fuckin' Samaritan."

Nate had no idea what that was; all he could see and thus care for was the sight of Jez standing over him, club raised him for a skull-cracking, killing blow-

Whatever you have, use it now. All of it.

Nate's less injured arm snapped to the small of his back and gripped his kukri, slashing it in a flat horizontal arc at Jez's leg-

-but the black slid his foot back at the last moment-

-and Nate slashed upward instead.

The screech sent half the crows in Sunberth wheeling up to the sky in dismay. For streets around, glances were exchanged and murmurs of ghosts, banshees, djinn, daemons and mages raced through the grapevine. A few of the keener, older ears may have guessed what it truly was, however... and massaged their unblemished privates gratefully.

Jez was not so lucky. It felt like a shark had snapped its jaws shut around his crotch and was tearing, ripping-

-as Nate twisted the blade in his shaking grip, wringing out every inch of agony, blood spurting from that ruined appendage between Je's legs, until finally he let the man fall back onto the cobbles-

Mutilation and exhaustion soaked the alley. Nate lay there, half on his side, half on one knees, until he finally had the strength to pull Jez's dagger free from his arm with a disgusting sucking sound... and toss it down the other direction. Jez just sat there, pool of glimmering scarlet spreading around his feet, staring with glassy eyes at the ruins of his crotch.

"Fuh... Fuh... Fuh..."

Groans. Justin and Baldy, trying to recover themselves. Nate tottered upright, mace held in a loose grip... and after spitting some blood, came to the simple conclusion that he couldn't afford them looking for revenge, or a rematch. He gripped the mace tighter...

Jez had eyes only for his gelding, but he could still hear beyond the blood pounding in his ears. Slow footsteps. Mumbling. Then three... no, four, heavy, crunches like someone splitting a melon open with a machete. He blinked... dragged his gaze away... ran it over Justin and Baldy... heads now truly beyond the care of surgeons or human recognition... then the shadow fell over him...

"Fuh... Fuck... you... Nate."

Face too tired and battered to muster any sympathy, Nate gritted his teeth and buried the head of his mace into the middle of his skull.

"Waves and swells, girl, what happened?!"

Zeyphr and his merry men were on their feet sharish when Edreina came tearing around the corner, face flushed and pace telling all that she was being pursued. Docking hooks and fishing knives were unlimbered all around. Dark mutterings of "that big bastard" were exchanged and Zeyphr laid a tentative hand on the female's shoulder.

"Sister, what happened? Did someone attack you? How did-"

"Oh, well that's fucking charming!"

They closed ranks as the gory-drenched, staggering monster lurched into sight, mace still in hand, face streaked with scarlet and his every move reeking seeming like a full-body wheeze. His mouth seemed to be working fine, though.

"I damn-near get petching killed for you, and you sod off back to these fuckin' Barnacles? Lovely!"

"Friend, best move on and-"

"Oh, fuckin' stow it boy," Nate grunted in pain and crunched something, working it around his mouth... then spitting it out onto the cobbles between him and the clutch of Svefra. It was one of his teeth. "Not in the mood for cock-measurin'. And you-" he pointed at Edreina with his dagger-impaled arm, immediately regretting it and wincing, lowering it "-what did you want? A handwritten order for you to fucking stay where I fucking put you?!"

"Hello, Nate. Rough night?"

"Larry, this is not the fucking time! Got needle and thread and booze?"

"I have for a price."

"Yer a cunt, Larry."

Unfazed and unimpressed, Larry finished rolling himself something pungent in some smoking papers and resumed his slouch in the doorway. "Aye, and I'm the cunt with what ya need. And the price might go up soon-"

"Oh, fine!" Nate lurched through the Svefra, heedless of the knives and glares, jutting his granite chin to Edreina as he went. "You bloody pay him. I need to get these extra holes you fucking bought me closed up... and go back to yer room! Enough trouble for one sodding night..."

[Edreina]

Edreina had not heard footsteps behind her, yet. If Nathan fell, they would be after her next and gods only knew if they had followed her and Nathan there first. The squat inn and it's amber-lit windows came into sight just as she had started to worry over the possibility of having lost her way. Even as she fell into a fray of her kin, the Svefra did not breathe a sigh of relief.

Metal whispered its concern against leather as it was loosed. The breathless redhead turned abruptly the way she had come, unconsciously freeing herself of a stranger's grip. Lo and behold, lit by the light of a single flickering torch was Nate. How did he get back so quickly? Edreina's mind automatically went on the offensive, wondering if it had all been a ruse and this was just another step towards his gaining her trust to be exploited. Blue eyes narrowed through the entire group and a thunderhead rumbled through their shared blood at the outsider's tone. It was relatively rare to see Svefra outside of the Suvan, but they did not fail to band together whenever they found one another.

The longer the bloodied land-strider spoke, the higher the Svefra's collective hackles raised in indignation. The storm swirled and grew broke into a fully blown hurricane when Nate had the gall to lunge at Edreina. One of her kin, the one with the lightest blond hair and darkest walnut skin, lurched forward like a ship caught in a swell as instinct pushed him to protect the only female currently in his midst. A blade meant to gut fish glittered menacingly in the torchlight, but Edreina brushed it away easily, taking a step towards Nate in response.

It was almost as if he knew the regret she felt deep down for having left her room in the first place and having led to the injury of another - one look at the man's wounds told Edreina there was no amiability between Nate and the others. He seemed to be able to pick at all of the things that made some part of her want to cringe and duck her head apologetically.

The majority of the redhead's consciousness was, however directed towards anger. Such an emotion was so much simpler, so much easier to deal with and to channel towards an end. Small and frail though she may have looked, the Svefra was an imperious visage when roused in such a way. Baring her teeth, Edreina gave into the whispers that were telling her exactly how best to get her point across. Djed surged up and into her eyes, burning with a gem-like intensity. Instead of fear or respect or any other possible emotion to let flow into Nate's very being, Edreina chose wariness. It was a wariness that would come so naturally to Nate that each question would not be without an answer. She had dispatched a man in a handful of ticks. She was from Sahova, as far as he knew, who knew what abilities she possessed.

For a handful of ticks, the young woman stood in silence, chin up and eyes hard as she bore into Nate, hard-pressed lips making her grievances clear.

As she spoke, she wove the hypnotic Djed into her words. "I hired you to find me a ship and a place to stay. Nothing more. You chose to seek me out, for whatever reason, and to try to save me from your comrades," tone was all it took for Edreina to make her lack of trust clear. "Don't you dare try to put blame on me. If you had the skill or the wit, you could have ended that fight without suffering such injuries." The weariness started to worm itself into a form of reluctant acknowledgement as she tried to guide him to accepting her words instead of causing her more trouble.

Breaking their eye contact and the stream of Djed, hoping that it had begun to sprout independently in his own consciousness, the hypnotist turned on her heel and moved to enter the Inn. But, unable to stop herself and the glorious freedom that came with being outright defiant, something that Annalisa had tried to burn from her being, Edreina turned and uttered one final warning. "I will live and die by my own choices and my abilities to cope with the outcomes. Do not presume yourself in a position to make any sort of orders."

[Nathaniel Ankah]

Nate wasn't in the mood to have some wisp of a girl give him petching attitude, but he was hardly in a position to shy away from it. Larry came out, whistling like the shyke-stirring prick he really was, and helped Nate down to the table outside, freshly vacated by the Svefra. The big man tensed and winced and twitched as Larry swabbed his battered, impaled right arm down with alcohol, the kind of brew you could strip paint and Glyphs with, before handing the bottle to him.

"Missed the bone... banged up the muscle, though. Gods, Nate, you got lucky, could have sliced through yer veins-"

"What're you, a sodding healer?" Nate sucked down a Jamoura's mouthful before gasping out his next words, eyes already swimming. "Just petching sew it up, will ya?"

"I hired you to find me a ship and a place to stay. Nothing more. You chose to seek me out, for whatever reason, and to try to save me from your comrades-"

Prick... prick... prick... Larry was nothing if not efficient, and every tick bought a fresh puncture in Nate's flesh, a new eel of pain squirming through the ragged home in his arm, a sickening feeling of thread pulled through it... then to the other side... a fresh hole, and again... but he couldn't take his eyes from the female. She towered over him now, like he had over her moments before, and her blue eyes trapped him surely as a cup over a bug. Even drunk and nigh-delirious from his wounds, her presence kept his gaze on her...

And it wasn't like he wanted to look at his arm while it was sewn up, anyway.

But his ears worked fine, and the look he shot her from between the thick eyebrows crushing his eyes could have knocked down a Tskanna. Comrades? As if he was... part of it? The sheer effrontery of it nearly brought him to his feet and drew his hand back to smack some sense into her... but...

Look at the state of you. Arms petched up. Rest of you battered. On the way to drunk and she's got a little crew of her fellow fishies just itching to be her hero. And then there's.

Yes. The thought he'd been avoiding since he'd met her. One he didn't like to entertain in his oh-so-masculine head. The possibility that she hadn't just come from Sahova, she'd escaped. And if that had been the case, well... was it really wise to anger her?

"I had nothing to do with it" He managed to mutter, face still shadowed and angry but at least he wasn't issuing orders. "Why would I have gone through this shyke if I was?"

"Don't you dare try to put blame on me. If you had the skill or the wit, you could have ended that fight without suffering such injuries."

Perhaps it was the booze, but Nate actually rolled his head back and barked a short laugh at the sky. He patted Larry on the shoulder and jerked his head her way.

"Hark at 'er, will ya? Nails some cunt with a plank and she thinks she's a sodding expert. I ain't yer Myrian, love. I am what I am, I know what I know, and unless you've forgotten already, I still saved you."

That seemed to be the end of it. The two glaring parties - one vast and bloody and crouched over his table, the other imperious and commanding despite her poverty - finally broke their glances and Nate went back to wincing and gritting his teeth. A few more pulls from the bottle... ah, that was the stuff. His vision started to sway like he was on high seas and Nate was grateful for the sensation. He shook his head.

She wasn't going away, though. That hair alone was like a lighthouse through a storm, anchoring his eyes to it. Everything else was a blur of greys and blacks and browns - good Sunberth colors - but that flaming hair... it grounded him. He sighed and tried to search his thoughts, thinking past his trepidation. Girl... bloody girl...

Doesn't know this city. Thinks she can just... walk around, and she'll be alright. Gods, she needs to learn, and learn fast, or-

"I will live and die by my own choices and my abilities to cope with the outcomes. Do not presume yourself in a position to make any sort of orders."

"Oh, then sodding petch off back to the docks, will you?!"

Even Larry was surprised: hands comically raised in mid-stitch, eyes flickering from Guy to Gal like he was watching a tennis match. The Svefra growled their displeasure and Nate bared his teeth, still sticky with his own blood. After a shocked, stunned tick he grabbed the needle from Larry's hand.

"Piss off, I've got this from here."

"Nate, yer sloshed-"

"Yeah, well," Nate winced and grunted, remembering more of watching Kay darn socks than sawbones he'd spied on as a child, "Pain and booze... good ways to keep yer mind clear..." He shot another poisonous look at Edreina, pulling the thread through the slowly-closing wound. "Though being lambus... lambasted by a walking corpse always helps."

He plowed ahead before she could fire off her retort, voice a low and dangerous rasp, gaining speed like it was falling from a cliff, all the frustration and anger Nate had boiling in him bubbling out from between his lips. Not all of it was from the night.

You should have left it at that, you stupid girl.

"You're alive because I came after you. Those three? Would have fucked your raw and then cut a few more holes into you for the buggering, if what I've heard about Justin is true. What? You think your plank would have stopped Jez?"

He nearly choked as he pulled the thread tight, flesh pulling closer together, effort of sheer will keeping his arm relaxed enough for the sewing.

"So, first of all, yes, you will show some petching appreciation, or you can consider our little arrangement over. Here-" A moment's rifling through his pockets and a tiny bag clinked onto the cobble between them. "What you gave me. All of it. I don't get paid enough to get shit thrown at me by some girl who knows nothing of this city, to the point she went for a walk, at night, alone! Entire gangs don't make that mistake, and you thought you were petching special?!"

Like an animal he lunged forward and bit through the thread as the sewing line ended at the edge of the gaping wound, now a thick, bloody suture that still needed to heal properly. Larry had bought bandages, too, and Nate started to unfurl one roll with hands that were beginning to fail him.

"Thinks she knows, thinks she's so smart-"

The roll fell from his fingers and he cursed.

"Watch the Docks at sunrise, girl. Plenty of smart, plucky girls there. Facedown."

Again he tried to unroll it, but... the vicious gash on his forearm was leaking his life all over fingers, palm, elbow... soaking and making all slick. Nate finally left it alone, massaging bloody brow with bloody hand.

He was tired. Anger did that to a man. It gave one such strength, but it too so much from you after, and all you had afterwards was...

"You know why I came back? For the money. You know why I got carved up for you? You know why I'm angry you even suggested I was part of them?" He lolled rather than turned his face to her, exhaustion only emboldened by the booze, making his green eyes hard to see under his squinting lids. "Because I said I would. Make of that what you will, but if you don't trust me, sod off and find someone else, 'cause I'm not doing this every night just because your sodding paranoia beats your common sense to death on a daily basis! Oh, sure a smart girl like you will find someone who won't cut your throat the second they see your purse. Obviously you know all the-"

He bit back the rest. He was walking a fine line, and he knew it. Edreina had more of his Kay in her than he'd seen at first: beauty hiding the iron in her limbs and the will to do what she had to. It wasn't ruthlessness, per se, it was... understanding.

Of what you had to do to stay alive. Nate had learned very young not to underestimate that.

He sighed, and looked older than his thirty-two years after the gesture. Outrage and scron drained from his features and he was just a man in pain, who wanted to sleep but could not until the worst of it was over. His client - the first non-shipping, non-beating-bastards-to-shyke work he'd had for seasons - was on the verge of walking away and he had to do-

What's necessary. Most times it's the most obvious, and the hardest.

"Please..."

Larry's head poked around the door. Concern from Nate was one thing, but... Rhysol's Fragrant Fanny, had he just said-

"Please help me with this." He said, tapping the bandages." Hands're... petched... and I'm drunk..."

Something like a smile alighted his lips. Apologetic and beckoning, even if he couldn't quite meet her gaze. She would do as she would do. Nate had no cause nor urge to stop it anymore. Most like he'd nailed his own coffin shut and half-expected her to take his "advice" and storm away. But there was always hope, and fool that Nate was, he clung to it.

"Wouldn't be good, would it?" He found the balls to manage a wry wink, gesturing broadly to himself and his encyclopedia of wounds. "Have the hired help bleed to death..."

[Edreina]

Though being lambus... lambasted by a walking corpse always helps."

Pale fingers froze, then, gripping the half-way open door far more tightly than was logical. Her? A Nuit? Gods, this man was thick. But, then, he kept going and Edreina could not bring herself to speak just yet. A thousand thoughts were rattling around in her brain, offering options that included Djed and did not. Her subtle suggestions had not worked as she had hoped, so more stark methods would have to be used... C'mon... It would be so easy to implant the thought of how you're not worth the waste of air, that he should focus on his own wounds... It would be easy and it would be better than sitting here listening to him. The remnants of Djed she had woven earlier hung on her tongue like honey, tempting her to use more, just to get another taste of that intoxicating power; after having her life in the hands of another for so long, it felt good to have any measure of power; the more, the greater the addiction.

"You're alive because I came after you. Those three? Would have fucked your raw and then cut a few more holes into you for the buggering, if what I've heard about Justin is true. What? You think your plank would have stopped Jez?"

Turning and letting the door fall shut, her eyes reluctantly fell upon the gashes in his arms and the glinting needle as it journeyed in an attempt to repair them. She did not want to see the truth in his words and yet, there it was, plain as day.

"The truth will not become a lie simply because of who's lips it is leaving."

There was Razkar's voice again. It must have been something about being back in this city, the last place she had any happy memories with him.

"So, first of all, yes, you will show some petching appreciation, or you can consider our little arrangement over. Here... What you gave me. All of it. I don't get paid enough to get shit thrown at me by some girl who knows nothing of this city, to the point she went for a walk, at night, alone! Entire gangs don't make that mistake, and you thought you were petching special?!"

Blue eyes did not fall on her coin, her investment, as it was thrown into the filth, but upon the man's arm, again. He had never taken care of such a wound, obviously, and would likely suffer for that later. Nate's hands began to shake and Edreina felt some strange emotion that lay on the border of annoyance and pity. The bandage fell from his hand and she knew that he was done, that he would be asking for the willowy bar keep to come back and help him, again. She did not expect what came next.

"You know why I came back? For the money. You know why I got carved up for you? You know why I'm angry you even suggested I was part of them? Because I said I would. Make of that what you will, but if you don't trust me, sod off and find someone else, 'cause I'm not doing this every night just because your sodding paranoia beats your common sense to death on a daily basis! Oh, sure a smart girl like you will find someone who won't cut your throat the second they see your purse. Obviously you know all the-"

The redhead started visibly the moment the word "paranoia" filled the air around them. Was that it? Was she paranoid? If she were being honest, it seemed too mild a term. She was terrifed... of everything and every one. Gone was the woman who lived a happy, carefree life under the wing of a Myrian and gone was the woman who had done nothing but enjoy every minute of her day on the open sea. Edreina could not even bring herself to miss the women she had been over the years for it would keep her from learning to embrace the woman she had become. Every hardship is part of what makes us into who we were always meant to be.

"Please... Please help me with this." He said, tapping the bandages." Hands're... petched... and I'm drunk..."

Turning, Edreina looked for Larry but saw he was nowhere to be found; she doubted that he spoke to her kin who had gone back to drinking and glaring occasionally. He was speaking to her? After all that, he wanted her to help him? That was rich! That was...

...exactly what she felt obligated to do.

Despite how little she trusted him and honestly wanted to wash her hands of him and the help he had originally offered, he had tried to help her and such an act could not go without being repaid. Harder, Sahova had made her, surely, but she was still able to pity and wish to help those who were hurt; she herself had been bitten by hot iron - she knew how awful it was to go without aid until it was nearly too late.

Snatching the purse from the ground, she perched lightly on the bench beside him, ready to flee if this proved to be some kind of a ruse. Letting the little gold-rimmed coins clink onto the table, Edreina smirked and found herself unable to help a bit of wry humor. "I thought you weren't the hired help anymore?" Gentle fingers took his nearer arm and brought it close to her to be inspected. The sutures were messy and haphazard but they would do the job. The question, now, was how to rinse the wound and wrap it cleanly. The water here could not even be trusted for a dog.

"I need you to do me a favor and trust me..." She said, quietly, looking up at him with all of the gentle honesty she could muster without using her Djed... she would need that to fufil other duties. "Close your eyes, if you must, but don't... freak out. I'm doing what I must to help you." If he nodded or otherwise affirmed his willingness to do as she said, she would continue. If not, they would have to seek another option.

Edreina closed her own eyes and began to focus on her breathing, feeling the rush of it in and out of her body, the rise and fall of her diminutive chest. She was an ocean in herself and there was a constant ebb and flow of energy within her. Her outer body was sand waiting to be saturated by the Djed within her. Each breath was a flow of the tide and Edreina dedicated herself to letting the Djed fill her hand. In her mind's eye, she could see it glimmering and sparkling with potential. All she had to do, now, was bring it to the surface.

Exhaling, the young woman started to push the Djed from her body and command it to take the form of her golden orange Res. It rose in little streams from her fingertips as she focused it and herself. As soon as a ball smaller than her palm had formed over her fingertips, Edreina's eyebrows furrowed and she stopped it's flow despite the gentle nudging that begged her to do otherwise. Now, she had to manipulate what she had. It was like swimming through jelly, mentally. The muscles to do what she wished were there but ill-trained and untempered.

Chants and gestures...

"To heal him..." She whispered in her native Fratavan, turning her hand so that it was over the ball of Res. Slowly, she moved it over his arm, taking hold of his wrist with her other hand to hold it in place.

"To heal him..." Flattening her fingers, she commanded her Res to form a more compact shape though defining it anymore was beyond her abilities thusfar. She turned his arm gently so that his arm was on it's side and the wound fully facing her. With so little, she had to work very intelligently.

The words were doing a good job of keeping her focused, through all of the worry and the faint fear that never seemed to fade, so she continued with it. "To heal him..." Trembling, now, with effort as she held the Res in this state and denying its wish to be transmuted for just a moment longer, the young woman pressed the golden glob against his arm, just above the wound.

More... if you summon forth more Res, you'll be able to help him more! Look! Isn't it so beautiful? The water that works on his skin and cleanses it was created by you. Just a little more, and you'd be able to do just a bit more for him... Edreina shuddered as the whispers filled her mind, threatening to overwhelm the sense of purpose she was focusing on.

"To heal him..." Edreina mustered all of the concentration and her meager skill in order to begin transmuting the Res into water ever so slowly, moving her hand over the wound so that the Res would follow and water would stream over the sutures, washing away the blood and grime. When the end was in sight and she had only the smallest amount of Res left, the budding wizard faltered and transmuted all of it at once.

But, she was quick and made sure to spread the water around ever so gently, using her fingers to wipe away the last of the blood before carelessly wiping her hand on her pants. Without further words, she took the unsoiled bandaid and went about wrapping it around the wound, tightly enough to stop the bleeding but no so tight that she worried about cutting off the circulation entirely. Unsure of what to do with the end of the bandaging, she stuffed it under itself and hoped it would hold.

"And now... the other one..." Doing her best to keep from drawing attention to what she had just done and what was now to follow, Edreina held out her hands, waiting for Nate to consent again and give her his other injured arm.

[Nathaniel Ankah]

"I thought you weren't the hired help anymore?"

Nate let relief wash out of him with a soft little snort, though the emotion surely mixed so well with his exhaustion that she probably didn't notice. Just as there were few things so shameful that antagonizing another to distraction, the feeling of mending that broken bridge was equally rewarding. Knowing by her tone alone that Edreina's anger had subsided... well, Nate would rest a little easier.

"I did make it cun... con..." He frowned, ill-educated mind striving for the word, frowning deeper and wishing he had Matt with him again. The smart harlot always knew the big words. "Er... if you wanted to. Not ya already have, y'know?"

She seemed to, but vocabulary and grammar were not her concern at the moment. A firm grip with soft fingers turned his left arm around, the one nearly pierced through by Jez's dagger. She studied the suture, half of it Larry's work, half his own... and Nate sighed apologetically.

"Hardly a healer, love. Just whip a bandage round it and-"

"I need you to do me a favor and trust me... Close your eyes, if you must, but don't... freak out. I'm doing what I must to help you."

Nate stared into those guileless blue eyes, and a niggling worm of fear told him that something to do with magic was coming. Djed, wyrd, The Craft, the black works... whispered curses and dying careers in Sunberth (literally, in the latter, if you pushed it too far). Decades had Nate, like centuries for the city, been told and told again how dangerous the weavers of djed were. Even Kay, mild and charitable with a heart big enough for the whole world, avoided them.

Djed was a powerful force; the force, in fact, as much a part of Mizahar as gravity, earth, air and water. Practitioners of it were legion and at their apex, they could reshape mountains or burn them to ash, control seas and skies and wrangle the wills of men. But for all their subtlety and intangible fortitude, most refused to admit the simple truth.

They wielded a tool. Vast, fearsome and terrible, but a tool, nonetheless. Only the soul's will and the heart's passions - dark or light - made the endless shimmering ocean of djed in the world and in every body dance to their tune. It was the heart that made djed, not the other way around, and even stripped of djed and wyrd, most times the soul would be enough to sway what magic could not.

Nate saw that truth, or an avatar of it, in her eyes, in her tone, the concern etched on her too-skinny face. So much had been taken from this girl. Her liberty, her intimacy, her great and cherished love, her dignity... but that core of compassion that made Edreina who she was?

Battered. Bloodied. Dented. Violated. But not broken.

Not even close. Nate held out his arm, and his breath... and he watched with childlike awe as she...

Yes. He recognized that word. It was almost like "healer", so it probably meant "heal". Heal... he? No, him, obviously. The big man subconsciously slotted the phrase away just in case he needed it, always liking to augment his Fratava, but it was the work of his back mind, the most of it concerned with-

"Shyke...!"

Nerveless and useless barely a chime ago, Nate's shock bought fresh life to his right hand, and it gripped the edge of the table hard until the knuckles paled. The ball of... whatever, it was... gods, he could feel it, under his skin... working away at his wounds... sucking... pulling...

Calm. For fuck's sake, boy, calm! You asked her to trust you. You all-but-demanded it! Now do the same.

"And now... the other one..."

She'd said something. He was sure of it. But the sound was distant and seemed to travel through cotton wadding crammed into his ears. He was too busy staring at his arm, almost hyperventilating at... well, nothing. The bandage was attached, the wound was cleaned and... it felt better. But she was so calm! His eyes flashed to hers, wide and amazed, jaw slack like a yokel.

"How... How did you-"

"Petching witchery! I bloody knew it!"

Indignation writ large bellowed forth from the doorway, and the two of them saw Larry and Barry standing there, arms crossed and eyes blazing. Now the Svefra lads were a little more quiet: they lived there, after all. Who wanted to piss their landlord off? Larry bit his stinking, smoking cigar between his yellow teeth, eyes narrowed in disgust at Edreina.

"No petching djed-flingers in our place, missy. Take yer shyke and go. Nate, yer welcome to-"

"Ah, got shyke in yer eye, Larry."

The brothers exchanged shock glances as Nate broke the ranks of Sunberth, siding with... with an outsider! And a mage! Nate knew this would be news tomorrow, but he also knew that the chances of him having to cut his own fucking arm off had gone down quite a bit thanks to this girl. He lumbered upright, grabbing up the bottle of booze and bandages in one hand.

"Yer not welcome back her, boy! Not with that... that-"

"Time for us to go, miss," Nate said with a roll of his eyes, feet still and his pace slow, but still capable of some reluctant locomotion. "I know... somewhere else."

If she chose to join him, Nate would lead the Svefra through alleys and streets, a half-bell's walk from the halfway house on the edge of the Docks. He spoke only once on their way, trying to conserve his energy and keep his ears open for any prowling predators... but when he saw her from the corner of his eyes.

"Remember," he would say, lowly, almost a mutter, voice just for her, "Head high. Long strides. Proud. Strong. You mope around with your head down and your pace slow, that's like telling every jackal in the city you're easy meat. Confidence, Mistress Edreina. Does half the job..."

Well. That was new.

Finally they would arrive at Sunset Quarter and the plain front of his house. A single window out front with a modest little flower box hanging from it, orchids loyally sprinkled with water every morning, doorstep dusted every other. Nate's right arm was still a mess but the bleeding had almost stopped. Now there was just the gash to sew and dress, the sensation to recover and so he used his left hand to open the door-

"Now, don't worry about Jorka," he said, real warning in his voice that would have raised anyone's hackles, "Just let her sniff you and don't be too-"

A massive ball of exuberant black fuzz with white feet bounded over and didn't bother with the niceties. She took one look at the new two-legs with the pretty hair and jumped up to paw her chest, long pink tongue questing for her face, as fearsome and awful as a box of kittens.

Nate cleared his throat and closed the door behind them.

"... well... she's usually much more scary..."

Bloody typical.

[Edreina]

"Petching witchery! I bloody knew it!"

The redhead started and then whirled about, hard-won concentration shattering as surprise flooded her veins and washed over her features. The two barmen stood in the doorway, collectively able to block out most of the light coming from within the inn. All at once, she wanted to slap herself across the fact for being so foolish. This place was not Sahova nor Zeltiva in that magic was not an accepted part of every day life; if one was not ignorant of it, one abhorred it, here.

Frowning, Edreina stood on the bench she had been perched on. For a moment, her head spun and her stomach felt very unsure of itself; up until that point, it had not crossed her mind just how much Djed she had used in such a short span. Did they not see that she was using her Djed for good? That she was helping Nate the best that she could? Or were they so blinded as to see every worker of Djed with the same snarling face?

"No petching djed-flingers in our place, missy. Take yer shyke and go. Nate, yer welcome to-"

Hopping from the bench, despite the fact that it made it so that now she had to look up at the brothers, the redhead started to comply, bending to retrieve her dropped pack when, suddenly, she froze.

At once, two things took place. One was surprising while the other was to be expected. Nate shocked Edreina by sticking up for her, one who was not of Sunberth and was a mage. A mage, she was indeed, who found herself struggling with a second part of her mind. There were things she could do with Hypnotism, surely, to make this easier, to convince the brothers that she meant no harm. If she played with their emotions just right and implanted the perfect thought at the perfect time, they would let her stay for a night, at least. Anything to keep herself out of the darkened streets. How much Djed would it take, though, to convince both brothers or even one well enough? What was to stop them from coming into her room later that night and slitting her throat?

No... Trying to use hypnotism would be foolish. She would have to find another place to stay the night.

"Time for us to go, miss... I know... somewhere else."

Another surprise! Nate was still willing to help her, despite how it had ended for him the last time. By this point, Edreina had come up with three possibilities for him: he was a complete fool, utterly intent upon fooling her or, most unlikely, a truly good person without ulterior motives. Either way, he was currently her best option. Without a glance at the close-minded men in the doorway, the redhead trotted to follow Nate before slowing her pace to match his lumbering gait.

"Remember... Head high. Long strides. Proud. Strong. You mope around with your head down and your pace slow, that's like telling every jackal in the city you're easy meat. Confidence, Mistress Edreina. Does half the job..."

When did I become Mistress Edreina?

Sometimes... caring even slightly for someone who has spent their whole life fighting alone does far more than you realize.

It had not occurred to Edreina until this point just how horribly her posture had deteriorated in her time on Sahova. It was an effort of will and retraining her muscles to bring her shoulders out of the slight hunch she had adopted to make sure Annalisa never doubted her subservience. With a straighter back, it took very little effort for the recently freed woman to raise her chin and toss her hair from her face. Without realizing it, allowing herself to stand tall once again also allowed a faint glimmer of light to return to her eyes like a lamp beneath all of the ice.

"Now, don't worry about Jorka... Just let her sniff you and don't be too-"

He has taken you to his house! A voice warned in Edreina's head, setting her even more on edge than Nate's warning.

The way in which he spoke did not even vaguely match the creature of whom he spoke. The only terrifying thing was the amount of strength an animal half her size could have; it took everything the thin woman had to remain upright. Bringing up her violet-cuffed wrists, the Svefra did her best to ward off the dog's tongue's search for her face.

"The freckles don't make me taste any different!" Edreina found herself saying with a grin, pushing the dog off so that she could get herself inside of the man's room and allow Nate to close the door. Distracted entirely by such a warm welcome, the blue-eyed woman forgot to be afraid of the room and the person with whom she was trapped.

Instead of worrying, Edreina knelt, coming face to face with a grinning maw. She had seen one of these dogs before. Surely, they could not be the same for the one she had seen had its powerful jaws about the throat of another dog in the Pits of Syliras. Shaking her head, she pet the dog gently, convincing herself that dogs had the capacity to be good or evil just as easily as humans did. Dogs were, surprisingly, one of the few land animals Edreina had never been wary of; every dog she met on the Anchorage had been a friendly and loyal creature unless you were foolish to race across their home ship late at night; Surai had learned that lesson very quickly.

"... well... she's usually much more scary..."

"Oh I'm sure she is very fierce," the redhead cooed, using both hands now to scratch either side of the dog's head just behind the ears, laughing gently when Jorka's tongue lolled out happily. After a tick, the dog decided she may as well greet her master and left Edreina sitting on the floor...

...in the middle of a strange, closed room...

Similarities to when she had trusted and followed Annalisa flashed behind her azure eyes, sending a tremble over her frame. Had she made the same mistake again? After all of her internal coaching, was she still so foolish and trusting? Fear seized Edreina and she scooted until her back reached a wall, turning her eyes to Nate warily.

Breathe... No matter what, remember to breathe...

[Nathaniel Ankah]

"Oh I'm sure she is very fierce."

Nate harumphed in the way of men the multiverse over when an expression of her aggressive masculinity turned out to be... yes, actually rolling on her back so her pale belly could get strokies. Hopeless around a pretty face, that one.

"Try entering through the window some night without me next to you, then roll your eyes."

Nate smiled at a particularly fond (if bloody) memory. Last time one of the Septon Street Skulks tried to creep in when he was out at work. He'd come home to find Kay trying to get Jorka away from some scared (literally) shykeless youth, back into a corner and clutching the nubs where three of his fingers had been.

But with her? Hmm... I dunno. Could go either way.

"Honestly," he muttered, batting the bouncing black beast away when, lo and behold, she finally remembered him, "Oh, now you love me, hmm? Or you know you're due a feed? Bloody-"

The sight of her was enough to still his tongue. A tick before she was cooing over his dog and rubbing her belly and now she was curled against the wall and... gods, it was that kid again. Only now he was Jorka, and he didn't want her looking at him with such... dark, harrowing expectancy in her eyes.

Bad memories, there. Should have thought this one through, lad...

"Umm..."

The classic icebreaker bought him a few ticks, and Nate decided to take a fresh direction rather than tangle with the messy business of "what's the matter?". That was clearly a long, long talk for another night.

"... well, the, ah... bed's over here." Even mentioning it made his words plow on as if in a gabble. "Whichyoucanhavetoyerself! Ah, I mean... I'll take the chair. Nice, big, comfy... I'll put the bedside table under me feet, no problem..."

He patted the top of Kay's... of his chair, patient, hopeful smile on his face. Still those eyes. Untrusting now she was confined, but what was he to do? Open the door up to the streets? No again; not after Jorka went midnight gecko hunting that one time.

"Um... kitchen is over here, there's a... pump outside, f'you want some water. Privy's out the same way, there's a candle by the back door for it. Ah... you might, er... want to leave it lit a little while... haven't emptied it in a few... ahem..."

Facing down Jez and his little minions wasn't as nerve-wracking at this. At least Nate had experience there; he knew how to react, how to move, where to hit and with what... and if the worst happened, he'd long since accepted that end. But Edreina... he felt like he was on a highwire in a strong wind, or trying to calm a raging tiger. One false move was all it would take, and there were so many of them to make...

"... Jorka can stay with you, if you like," he said, refusing to glance at the triumphant snuffle his treacherous hound gave by way of response, "She's a good bed buddy, believe me."

Gods, he could feel sweat on his brow. Tickling in his legs and his hands, like he was nervous and restless and sickened all at once. He just didn't want her to be afraid of him. But how many times had she been at the mercy of someone stronger, larger, in control and far less benevolent? Nate wouldn't like to ask, but didn't need to: he knew where she came from.

You could give her Kay's room. Larger bed. Private. Soft sheets. Bedside table. All it would-

"The other room isn't... isn't fit." His words choked down halfway through, quashing the initial harshness that crept in. Cheva's Cunt, was it her fault he couldn't face it? "But... I'll get you some pillows... hope you don't have the help sleep out in the yard, eh?"

That's it, leave 'em laughing. Now go get the petching pillows and hope she hasn't jumped out a window when you get back.

[Edreina]

Through all of Nate's uncomfortable stuttering and unsure speech, Edreina felt a knot between her shoulders unwind ever so slightly. The two frail lumps drooped slightly as she exhaled, bending her back just enough that the top of her spine could be seen through her pallid, malnourished skin. He meant her no immediate harm, as far as she could tell.

Sleeping here was infinitely safer than sleeping on the streets, she affirmed to herself. Here, there was a dog and another human (though that could quickly become a con instead of a pro) to keep her from going mad again. So many bells could pass unnoticed when one was alone, when each wet thump of your heart in your ears could have marked the passing of a bell or a tick for all you knew. The silence was deafening, alone. She heard Nate's breathing, Jorka's and her own overtop the creaking of others as they moved about on the shared floor and the sounds of the city itself.

Yes... Here she could sleep...

"The other room isn't... isn't fit... But... I'll get you some pillows... hope you don't have the help sleep out in the yard, eh?"

The redhead's hair danced in the dim light as her head tilted at the barely masked pain in his voice. What about the other room brought him such pain? Knowing Sunberth even so little, Edreina did not doubt someone had been murdered or had some other tragedy befall them in the other room.

At the mention of pillows, she remembered his earlier offer of the bed and found herself tensing again. A bed? That, she could not do. A bed was not her corner, safe and warm. Blankets could so easily become some implement of torture or binding in preparation for torture. Biting her lip for an instant, Edreina decided it was best for her to speak quickly, though it was her turn for words to be halting and apprehensive. "Nate! I uh... I can't sleep in the bed... But a pillow would still be nice... I think..." The last was added out of some sense of duty to be kind to her host, to indulge in his need to make her comfortable. He would be puzzled, surely, by the refusal to take the bed. But would he press the matter? If asked, Edreina felt she could explain it, to some degree, but was in no mood to delve too deeply.

Glancing over at the dog with it's thumping tail and toothy grin, Edreina felt herself steady slightly and made a sudden decision. "And I would really... appreciate it... if Jorka would sleep beside me. If she is willing, of course..." It had been a long while since she had felt the warmth and solace of another creature beside her at night. A human would be too much, thusfar, as a sleepy mind could quickly mistake anyone for the nightmarish figure cast by her sorceress captor. The Svefra could imagine curling up in the corner with the dog beside her, hand in the creature's fur so that she could lose herself in the warmth and the beat of the creature's pure and guileless heart.

"Thank you, by the way... I don't know what I would have done without you. I'm sorry I'm so chary and... jumpy but..." She wanted him to understand but there was no way for her to do so without explaining to him what had happened to her. Shaking her head, Edreina rubbed the violet cuff about her left wrist with her right hand, thumb tracing the faint etching that had nearly been worn away by her fiddling. "I'm so sorry... We should uh... Get some rest... Busy day tomorrow, after all."

[Nathaniel Ankah]

Nate was halfway out the door, bearing so many fluffy items of bedding that he was almost eclipsed by them. Once they'd registered properly he peered over the top of them, nothing but a pair of incredulous eyes and a stout nose peeking over a pillow.

"Oh... well, at least you'll have plenty under you."

A fool could have told you she wasn't intending to move from that corner, so Nate went to her. Very carefully. He walked over as if calming a skittish foal, dumping down spare blankets and quilts like they were gifts, then crouching down to fold them into long, thick, soft rectangles. Once they were ready he planted a pillow at the top and slid it over to her, just in time for-

"And I would really... appreciate it... if Jorka would sleep beside me. If she is willing, of course..."

Nate snorted as Jorka seemed to nuzzle closer to her already, even though he knew from experience that she was just finding out the choicest spot on the massive new bed that Master had kindly made for her.

The Red-Fur would get some of it, too, if Jorka felt nice.

"You think you need to ask me? Or that she'll say 'no'?"

As if in tune to Master's words, Jorka padded over to nuzzle his face apologetically. A few spitty, frothy ticks later, Nate pushed her away with a laugh, pointing to the rough mattress he'd made for the Svefra.

"With her, love. Just for tonight."

"Thank you, by the way... I don't know what I would have done without you. I'm sorry I'm so chary and... jumpy but..."

Nothing followed that but her eyes darting away from his own stare. He snorted softly and his lips twisted, expression pained and understanding at the same time. Nate knew the feeling. It wasn't the talking about it, the shame you felt or the fear you felt of being judged, or pitied... it was the fact you had to go back there.

All that fear and trembling, you had to experience it again. Just speaking the words, recounting the events, dragged your mind and your waking soul back to the place you'd tried to hard to escape. Nate knew had bad that could be without mages involved. Gods alone knew what the Deaders had done to her...

"Don't think you're payin' me for my conversation," he said quietly, smile hopeful again, trying to cadge one from her own lips with his twinkling eyes, "You don't need to explain yourself to anyone."

Edreina bid him good night and spoke sense, which reassured him. Nate stretched his brawny, thick arms and immediately grunted and cursed as he realized what a mistake that was. Yep, he'd be sleeping on his back tonight, and with his arms straight and careful at his sides. Fucking Jez... well, one more problem he didn't have to worry about anymore.

"Oh, one more thing..."

Nate moved carefully. Strong as she was, willful as she was, he knew now that this woman was fragile as porcelain. He held up a finger, other hand rifling around in his pocket until he found what he was looking for.

"Something for under your pillow."

He placed the punching dagger in front of her by the blade, not the handle. The sight of it alone in his hand, ready for use, could have been enough to frighten her. He let her gaze at it a while, figuring she'd be impressed or curious at the vicious little weapon: four-inches of sharpened triangular iron with a wooden handle. But... no, apparently not. Nate frowned, then shrugged internally.

Probably her Myrian had one.

"Just in case. Don't let Jorka get hold of it, eh?" He walked back to his bed and lay slowly, painfully on top of the blanket, grinning at her from across the room. "And don't worry, I've got my own..."

A set of brass knuckles was produced from his other pocket and Nate placed them under his own pillow, patting it jovially like a child waiting for the Fang Folk. Mace and kukri were unlimbered from his belt and hung on the end of the bed, within easy reach. Jorka knew the signs of Master ready to sleep and make the darkness come; she snuggled down to wherever Edreina was waiting, eager to have a heat source she could leech from.

"Pleasant dreams, Mistress Edreina," Nate said before he blew the candle out by his bed, so that his last words came as from darkness, without mouth or eyes, but with sincerity. "You deserve them, it seems..."

Sunberth boiled and howled and cackled and crashed beyond the window and the door. Things canine and human and nameless scratched around the door a few times, but none entered. Everyone in Sunberth was a light sleeper: Nate was no exception. He let the sounds of the night fall into comfortable background noise, including the eventual soft sounds of a sleeping Svefra. Once he was certain of that, he allowed himself to drift. To dream.