Completed Seeing Red

[Kiva]

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68th of Winter, 515 A.V
Kendoka Sasaran

"You're Myrian?"

A deep voice broke the concentration of a young woman with dark hair pulled into a tight bun. She turned to face the intruder, lowering the kris she was swinging at a training dummy, and scoffed. 'Another Akalak.' With a roll of her eyes, Kiva returned to practicing, changing her stance and lunging at the stuffed figure. Her blade stopped inches from sinking into the worn canvas, and she squared her footing, throwing a shoulder into the chest of the opponent. Had it been a real person, the brute shove would be a nasty show of aggression. Stabbing someone in the chest and then throwing your weight against the wound wasn't exactly a friendly maneuver.

The man who had asked her origin waited patiently, watching as he leaned against the wall. A smug smile played on his lips as his eyes drank in her body, "Perhaps your goddess has gone soft," he pulled himself upwards, raising to his full, intimidating height and he began to pop his knuckles, "You make for a pathetic savage." White teeth flashed against skin so dark purple it looked black.

'...Excuse me?'

With an eerie slowness, Kiva lowered her blade and twisted her body to look the man in the eyes. They were gold, bright and glowing and he was still grinning, He feigned innocence, "Did I say something to offend you?"

"What did you say to me, Deyhan?" Her tone was as sharp and as cold as her blade. Did he just insult her goddess queen? Kiva's attention was fully directed at him now.

"You're small. You're delicate." He moved closer, leaning to look at her backside and then to her chest, "You apparently can't fight. What good are you? Shame on Myri." He was still smiling, but Kiva was as serious as the grave. She felt her chest tightening, her knuckles turning white from gripping one of the last memories she had of her home. A hot sickness washed over her, flushing her cheeks from anger.

Still, he pushed her, "Tell me, Myrian, how many times have you opened your legs for my brethren?"

The question sealed his fate. She jumped towards him, swinging her blade with full intent of sinking it into his stomach. She could taste the anger in her mouth and feel a pit in her stomach - a need to kill. Red flashed her vision, making her move sloppy, and it wasn't until she was close enough to see the glint of mischief in his eyes that Kiva knew she had made a mistake.

The dark stranger moved like water, flowing out of the way and engulfing her. His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her up and throwing her. Eyes widening, Kiva felt as small as a child, slamming into the nearest wall and sinking to the ground. Her vision flashed white from the impact, the sound of her kris skittering across the floor of the Kendoka Sasaran. Pain was instant, shooting up her spine, her back, and skull. She gritted her teeth, refusing to make any sound to encourage him. With slender fingers gripping her side, she sucked in shuddering breaths, resting on her knees while realization hit her even harder.

This was her real opponent. Someone against her people, against her goddess. Saying such insults to Myri... it was unforgivable. Her anger was muddled with frustration, and her brown eyes searched for her weapon. She found it resting at the Akalak's feet, and he nudged it with his boot towards her.

"I'm having doubts, myself. Where is the mark of your goddess? I was always told Myri branded her children with crude rocks. Let me see."

Long legs began to walk languidly towards her, and Kiva hissed in response. She jerked to her feet and retrieved her weapon. His smile was sickening; it mocked her. The Akalak was coming after her, she knew it. Why... that was an entirely more complicated question Kiva had no answer to. Perhaps he hated Myrians. No shortage of enemies there.

"Where is your gnosis mark?"

"Dira take you," she muttered, swinging her blade again towards his right side. He was quick to dodge again, but with fevor, Kiva shot out with her free hand, launching a punch towards his face. The diversion worked and her fist collided with his jaw bone. His face barely turned and he grabbed both of her wrists tightly, and jerked her like a rag doll. She was like a child compared to him, and she hated it.

This time, he did not throw her. He squeezed with such force, Kiva grunted, her knees wanting to buckle as he cut off circulation to her wrists. His large hands made her arms look like twigs and her face twisted with pain. Strands of her hair fell from their fixture and into her face, casting a black cage over her vision.

"Let go," He said calmly, face no longer smiling.

She shook her head. She would not give in so easily to a dirty outsider. Distracted by the throbbing in her hands, the soreness, the pressure... Kiva was slow to respond, "...No." She stared into his golden eyes and he quirked an eyebrow.

He increased his pressure, this time Kiva did give a small cry, teeth clenched and she looked at her offender. She wanted to remember his face, everything about him from the shape of his lips to the smell of his skin. If she survived, she would find her revenge; she would hunt him till the day she died if necessary. And she knew she would.

"You won't kill me," Kiva growled in Myrian, "Not here."

He didn't understand her, she could tell. His eyes narrowed and he started digging his nails into the soft flesh of her arms. Her muscles protesting, her body couldn't keep up with the drive of her mind, and it became harder to control her hands. Her fingers slowly released, and once again the blade dropped to the ground.

★★★

[Kiva]

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“Now, was that so hard?”

When she was unarmed, he pushed her to the ground and pounced upon her. Kiva threw her knee upwards, and it was like colliding with a tree. His stomach was hard and his muscles made him thick and heavy. In comparison, what he had said was true. It had been a long time since she was in Taloba… she was hardly a Myrian. She couldn’t fight, she was rusty. She barely knew who she was. How shameful it was to be overcome by a deyhan. Would Myri turn her favor? The thought sparked a fear greater than the one she had for the purple demon. She twisted under his weight, clawing at any exposed flesh like a wild animal. Her nails dug into his biceps, digging in deeper when he pulled back to hit her. At the opening, she threw punch after punch into his chest. She briefly saw his hand raise, small tendrils of blood trickling down from where she had broken his skin, and his hit rocked her head to the side. One hit, then two.

With the first, her ears were ringing; Kiva bit her tongue from the impact and blood was filling her mouth with a metallic taste. She spit the bloody mess at his face, bucking under him relentlessly. The second hit was more solid, connecting with her nose. A loud snap and then more blood. Her breathing was labored now. She was tired and her body protested. She relaxed, and he tore at her shirt. “All I want to see is the gnosis mark.”

“Liar,” she growled, her top being shifted to expose her bare skin. Her voice sounded off, broken along with the cartilage in her face. The air was cold, but she forced herself to remain motionless. To buy her some time and energy. His dark hair was medium length and fell forward and he looked down, running a hand along her abdomen. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he began to move lower, shifting his weight. His hand trailed to the waist of her pants and Kiva had had enough.

She broke free of his loosened grip and pushed him backward, going for the offensive. Shirt still raised and with her breasts exposed she threw full force punches at his stomach, the first catching the Akalak off guard. She heard the breath leave his lungs, and he gasped for air, giving her enough time to shove him off her. Kiva rolled away from him and scrambled to her knees, grabbing her kris and slicing towards him.

Impact.

It was an un-calculated attack, one done with too much emotion and not enough training. The wavy blade cut into the corded muscle of his thigh, deep enough for red blood to quickly seep through the cloth of his pants and stain the wooden floors of the facility.

It was his turn to writhe in pain, teeth grinding together. A dangerous fury burned, and he glared at her with a look that would have scared another. Kiva only returned it with her own passions, trying to rotate her wrists and work through their stiffness.

There were so many things she wanted to do. So much pain she wanted to inflict. Something told her not to. A wisp of a thought held her in place, 'It's more dangerous for him to die.'

He tried to sit up, clutching his leg. The blood continued to pool, “This was an accident,” She sounded distant and rushed. Kiva looked at her blade, wet and glistening, and lifted it to her mouth. She watched his face as she ran the flat edge of the kris against her tongue, tasting it, “We were training and a hand slipped. You are not angry, but worried. I panicked and ran.”

He cursed her, trying to stand. He did, briefly. He took a step towards her, but the tables had shifted. At full health, Kiva was nothing to him. But fate had given her an opportunity to change circumstances, and she took it. He tried to charge, but his new injury slowed him down. Kiva jumped back, avoiding the blow and shot out with her foot, kicking him backwards. She continued, “I will leave-“

“Dirty coward. Stand and fight!”

Kiva snarled at him, violently cutting at the dummy that had been left. She stabbed it mercilessly until she could no longer. Nostrils flaring, she spun on her heels, pacing. Her body still wept with pain, and she moved with angular movements, “You will cry with sorrow.”

She headed towards the door, “You have broken the law of this land,” Kiva held up her wrists, displaying the dark bruises that were already forming and staining her skin, “You have harassed me. A woman.” She said the last word with pride, “Tell them it was an accident, or we shall take it to the law.”

Such a threat in Taloba was weighty. Myri and the Council of Nine did not allow for these incidents to happen. To go to them was a last resort, as the judgement were often harsher than the crime. Kiva snatched her things by the exit, slipping on her coat and scarf. When she looked back, the Akalak was sitting up, holding his wound… smiling bitterly, “Little Myrian, you attacked me. It was simply self-defense.”

A brief memory of Kavala’s words resonated in her mind, making her stomach drop. The Akalaks would find her guilty if they could, make it so. They would then force her into sexual servitude. She would have to become a Nakivak. Panic made her want to rush to the Sanctuary, to seek out aid from her employer. Common sense told her running would only make her look guiltier. Kiva hesitated momentarily to fix her top before peeking out the door and down the hallway. The instructor of the facility was holding a class. She could hear him in the main room, and she made an effort to quiet her steps. She lightened her footsteps, walking briskly and going to turn around a corner. She froze, jerking back and hiding when she noticed a pair of men talking, and only moved on when they had dispersed. When she was out of the Kendoka Sasaran, she exhaled loudly.

This purple Akalak… he would regret his words. Kiva would train day and night if necessary. She would hunt him down like an animal. She would kill his kin. But first… she needed an alibi.

★★★

[Kiva]

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Kiva felt… scattered.

Her thoughts flew through her mind like frantic birds beating against a cage. Why didn’t she kill him? Why did she let him live? Was walking away the right move? Kiva struggled to breath and her eyes darted across the street. A man looked up at her, and the Myrian started power walking away from the building. She could still feel the ghost of his hands on her body and she pulled her scarf higher around her face to conceal it. When she was far enough, she pulled the map she had been given from her coat pocket and ran her index finger across its pictures.

“Where are you?” she breathed, “Come on, where..?” She was finding it hard to focus but after a moment, she saw what she was looking for – The Medical Center. Two blocks up. Kiva started to run, but taking deep breaths hurt her chest. It felt like her ribs had been racked and her face was tender from the punch. Half of her face would likely swell, turn yellow or blue. She pushed herself, forcing herself to run when she got closer. It took much longer than she would have liked, but she was slowed. Blade still in hand, she had forgotten it had been bloodied and she cursed.

She had to look innocent. She needed to look concerned. Not the image of the savage Myrian everyone had. Walking away was the right move, she reasoned, Killing him would have trapped me. This is my only chance. Outside of the building, Kiva started screaming for help. She must have already looked disheveled, and when a blue Akalak emerged from the building, she second guessed everything. She was so tired of them, and she took a step back. She didn’t want to deal with another, but he quickly approached her, taking in her appearance. He was approaching her when a human woman followed. Her eyes widened and she followed suit.

“What’s wrong? Let me see.” The man immediately went to work, reaching out to take her hand, but Kiva jerked away at the touch.

He hesitated, holding his palms up in a non-threatening gesture, “My name is Karvin and Lostrum Gillia. I run this center. What is your name?” His voice was soothing, a drink of water on a hot day. His presence was comforting, not irritating or overly dominant. He looked at her with gentle eyes and Kiva wanted to believe he could help. He would be a good person to use.

“Kiva of The Crimson Sun,” she allowed him to approach her, and with the caution one might use with a wounded animal, he gingerly took her hand. The healer began to lead her inside.

Don’t forget what you’re doing. If we wait too long, we will miss our chance!

Kiva shook her head, clearing it, “No!” she protested with more force than she thought, “There was an accident at the Kendoka Sasaran,” She pointed behind her, trying to think of what to say. Would they believe her? “There is an Akalak injured! He’s bleeding. We were… we were sparring and I… I..” It was all a lie. She had to hide the full truth, “My blade cut his leg.”

Once the words left her mouth, there was nothing she could do about them. Karvin looked at her with steady eyes, and the Myrian was sure he didn’t believe her.

“Clarissa,” The young human perked up beside him when he addressed her, “Go to the Kendoka Sasaran and do what you can. Kiva,” he kept his voice soft, “Come inside, it’s cold and you’re bleeding.”

Truthfully, this was one of the first times she had felt the chill since arriving. She had been so flustered, it didn’t immediately register with her. Now, she felt the snow under her boots, the icy wind breaking through her layers. She nodded, looking in paranoia over her shoulder once and then allowed for him to guide her. Inside the building was well lit and there was a front desk where others sat, filling out forms. Most were women, it seemed. The lines of their mouths were thin, stressed. Some hopeful and glowing. More than one had a silver bracelet around their wrist. At least two were round and obviously with child. Did they know they were likely to die?

To her surprise, Karvin lead her to a back room and pointed to an examination bed. “Now,” he began, going to wash his hands in a basin. While he ran the soap across his hands and started to scrub at his skin and fingernails, he watched the Myrian over his shoulder. “Try and relax. Everything is alright.”

Everything in the room was clean, neat, organized. Everything that is… except the Myrian. Her hair was amuck, once pulled back, now had strands sticking in every direction. Her skin looked swollen around her, the faintest bruises on her face already turning purple and her eyes darted around the room like a trapped animal. Bright and vibrant blood masked the lower half of her face, and her nose jutted at an odd angle; the cartilage shattered from his guess. He gave a reassuring smile when their eyes met and dried his hands off quickly, holding out a hand, “I’ll take your pulse if I may. You can take your coat off if you like.”

Kiva hesitated for a long while, her body sore. She didn’t want to move, if she were being honest, but after a moment of waiting, slowly stood and slipped off the thick coat. She shivered in the crisp room, her top feeling more revealing than usual. A mid drift style, not often seen in Riverfall for the exposure of skin clutched her torso, but she figured it would have been a practical choice, considering her solo training and having been indoors sweating. She didn’t think one of these giants would obsess over ripping it off.

After her coat was removed, Kiva placed her bag beside it and returned to the table. Her long legs dangled off of it and Karvin’s smile stayed in place. He wanted her to relax, she could tell. But how could she? Not when she had come the closest she had ever been to being sexually assaulted, and had barely scrapped out of there with a busted face. Akalak guards were just waiting for her to leave so they could pounce, she just knew it.

Attempting to clear her mind and take some deep breaths, the young woman had to resist the urge to flinch when she saw dark hands reaching out to tenderly take her arm in his hands. This twitch did not go unnoticed by the healer. His eye brows furrowed together, but he replaced it with a smile. When he looked down however, it faltered.

Kiva’s wrists were badly maimed. Nothing he couldn’t fix, but a surprise to say the least. He tried not to pause in his work, pushing two fingers as softly as he could against her battered flesh. He felt the pounding of her pulse beneath his touch, but he couldn’t help but ask, “You say you had been sparring when the man was hurt?”

She didn’t say anything.

He leaned over to look at her face, “Kiva?”

“Yes, we had been sparring.” She pulled wrist away and tucked it against her chest, crossing her arms securely. She met his eyes, her deep brown ones looking into his own, “I was training and there was an accident. That’s all.” And there it was… Another lie.

He could be as friendly as he wanted. Kiva had no intention of telling the truth.

★★★

[Kiva]

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Karvin thought it best to change the subject for a while, give her some time to relax, “Why don’t you tell me of something interesting that’s happened to you lately?”

Riverfall had been fairly… uninteresting for her. Strange thing seemed to have happened to everyone around her, as if they were gods. Flashes of a tattooed man spilling ink from his skin played in her mind regrettably, followed by her own employer, a woman who may have been able to talk to animals. Work had been uneventful, and the last “adventure” she had included chasing an innocent and ugly couple down to seduce them, getting into a bar fight, and then activities that Kiva couldn’t quite remember the rest of, “No.”

The healer was unprepared for her response and cleared his throat. Karvin moved around the bed, carefully checking for any lacerations or more visible bruising. Her chest rose and fell quickly, taking shallow breaths, “Does it hurt to breath? Here, can you sit up straighter for me?” He started feeling her ribs, all were in place, but she hissed in response to his examination. “You have some bruised ribs,” Women didn’t often come into his business in such bad shape. Pregnant, or having a baby… Okay. Complications in delivery? There was no better place in Mizahar to be. But a Myrian with injured ribs, a broken nose, and bruises littering her body? Not often seen from a sheer training session.

Worry set into his stomach. What if this Akalak Kiva talked about lost control of his brother? What had they done? “Here,” Wasting no more time, the healer reached out, placing a palm on either side of her torso. A bit of concentration and Rak’keli’s power flowed from his fingertips.

It felt like a soothing warmth. Not the sort of heat one gets from a shot of liquor or by standing close to the fire. This was… different. Like being tucked into a warm blanket on a rainy day. First there was pain and then there was… nothing. Kiva took a deeper breath to test the theory, and uncrossed her arms from surprise. It was incredible. She held out her wrists, interested to see what he would do. Karvin complied eagerly, addressing the most immediate and glaring pains first. The ache in her wrists faded, and Kiva shifted in her seat. Voice still muffled and nasally, she had to ask, “How are you doing that?”

He paused, cocking his head, “My gnosis. Rak’keli has marked me.”

Rak’keli?

Karvin elaborated, “Rak’keli is the goddess of healing and health. Through her gift I can fix broken bones, heal sickness of the blood. With it, I can save the lives of a lot of the Nakivak that come through our doors.” Something he said displeased the Myrian. Her dark eyes lowered and her lips set into a thin line.

“Did I offend you?”

A similar question was asked by her attacker. Kiva tried to stand and move past the Akalak but he blocked her path, confused. She wanted to scream about the savage practice of forcing women into being walking wombs, but bit her tongue to hold it in place. Finally, she snapped, changing her course of questioning, “Does your goddess hate Myri?”

Myri, the goddess of war, was a complex deity. Kiva often wondered how other gods viewed her, the more she learned about them. This… Rak’keli… Did she hate Myri for instigating war? Or did Myri keep this holy healer in business?

“I can’t claim to know the will and desires of the gods. But Rak’keli urges those with her gnosis to heal without prejudice. A child of Myri, an Akalak, a Symenestra, or a Zith. It doesn’t matter. As for your goddess… Rak’keli doesn’t hate war. She has warriors of her own, but they fight for very pure reasons and their weapons aren’t what you’d imagine.”

Kiva contemplated this new information. What reasons, what weapons?’ The young woman couldn’t imagine Myri dismissing such a valuable ally. Watching her own flesh knit and mend itself was incredible. Karvin pulled away, retrieving a wet rag which he used to carefully wipe the blood from her face. At this proximity, Kiva could see the details of his eyes.

This man was honest. Truly caring for her well-being.

But would he, when he learned the truth? That she had stabbed one of his own?

Could she trust him?

★★★

[Kiva]

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The more he worked, the clearer her face became. She had a smooth complexion and full lips. Her eyes were large and brown. Dark blue patterning decorated under her eyes and along the bridge of her nose. Kiva took slow breaths through her mouth, watching as he swapped out the wet cloth for a dry one. Scratching at dried bits, he repeated this process a few times, until he had a clean view of her face, “Do you know how to set the cartilage when this happens? Not everyone has Rak’keli’s gift and this is a good skill to have. “

Was he offering to teach her? “How?” Was he trying to earn her favor? Knowing how to do this would be valuable indeed. Next time she got into a scuffle, she’d be able to fix herself. That would be nice.

“Very well. When you break your nose, sometimes it can get displaced. If it does, it will need to be reset, so it will heal the way it was before. You want to do this as soon as possible, or the swelling will make your life harder. Now, you do this,” He leaned back, illustrating his next step by putting his hand in a triangle shape, the pads of his fingers pressed together, “Tuck the bridge in the top of the triangle, inhale,” he emphasized this step, “and pull downwards, as straight as you can. You should be sitting when you do this. It’s very painful, and can make you dizzy or lightheaded.”

“Now,” he continued, scooting closer, “Let me fix you up.”

Kiva leaned back and Karvin raised an eyebrow. The Myrian spoke up, with a grumble, “Can I try?”

The Akalak healer slowly smiled, “This is not easy and you have a lot of swelling. Perhaps I can lower the pressure. It’s not easy to mend one’s own nose. It’s a challenging endeavor for a beginner.”

Kiva shrugged, determined. Karvin liked the woman’s drive for independence and knowledge. This would not be an easy lesson for her, “Here.” He reached out, his gnosis giving her the same warmth as before, only it was followed by a giant pressure being relieved from her face. Kiva took a deep breath in through her mouth, beginning to follow his instructions.

'Sitting. Good. Triangle.' Kiva, with some doubt, made the same triangle with her fingers and brought her hands to her face. Her touch was tender, and she inhaled a few times, prepping herself. The last thing she wanted to do was meddle with the wound, but she wanted to do this. To prove that she could take care of herself, despite what happened in the Kendoka. Looking into the healer’s light eyes, she inhaled once more and pulled downward. She immediately yelled from pain, but didn’t stop. She felt her fingers moving down the battered bridge, and when she was done, a wave of nausea shook her. She wobbled, catching herself on the examination table, and took shuddering breaths. Somewhere, she could feel Karvin’s hand rubbing her back in reassuring circles, soothing her. After a moment, she muttered, “Is it straight?”

Kiva’s vision showed the healer leaning over, examining her work. He was nodding, pleased, “Yes. You did well. Here,” he reached out to heal her face. To take away the pain, but Kiva swatted at his hands.

“No?”

The Myrian waited, allowing for the dizziness to pass, “I want it to heal properly, but I want this. I want to remember it.”

Another surprise. Karvin didn’t know how to respond at first, but agreed to her terms, “I will start the healing process, so it stays straight. But I will keep the bruises, and the cut will remain. You may also still experience swelling for several days. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes.”

Very well. The healer did as he said he would, and the pain subsided only slightly. When he was done, he had to ask, “Why is this important to you?”

Kiva gave a half-lie, still refusing to tell the whole story, “I am Myrian. We do not like to forget our weakness, but grow from it.” In full truth, keeping the reminder would fuel her vengeance in the days to come. It would keep her from feeling fear. It would remind her of who she was dealing with.

“Kiva,” Karvin was careful in his next line of questioning, “You were training at the Kendoka,”

’Yes, and?’

“The Kendoka is a weapon’s training facility, but you came to me with wounds that suggested you were unarmed,” Kiva stiffed, her stomach tightening, “This… accident… Did it occur before or after this Akalak shattered your face?”

“After,” Kiva blurted, unsure if her answer was right or not for her alibi, “…I stumbled from the impact and lost my aim. We were both bleeding heavily, so I ran for help.”

“Did Mizra or Sohryn not step in and offer aid?”

“They were teaching a class, and we were in another practice room,” There, a splinter of truth, “When it happened, I panicked, and I knew there would be healers here. So I ran,” It was hard for Kiva to pretend to be concerned for a man she later planned to kill, but she did the best she could, “Do you think he will be alright?” She stood, grabbing her things slowly, but honed in on the exit.

“There no way for me to tell, as I haven’t seen the wound. But Clarissa is a very skilled medic, and I believe she can fix up your friend.”

Friend. Kiva couldn’t help but visibly flinch. She wanted to leave this place. She had done what she had come for. Craft a story, have witnesses, get patched up in the process.

This time, Karvin did not stand in her way. When she reached the door, the Akalak spoke only once more, “Kiva?” His voice was soft, but he knew there was more to the tale than he was getting.

She turned, spotting an item in his hands. It was her kris, still bloody from the attack. He held it out to her, and with shaky hands she took it, disappearing into the hallway. When she was free from the facility, she ran. She ran as hard and as fast as she could, not stopping until the Sanctuary came into sight, just a dot on the horizon. Legs caving in, she collapsed in the snow with tears budding in her eyes. Never before had she been so unsure of her future.

★★★

[Konrad Venger]

Nice job! Your work has pleased The Sloth! Kiva XP: Unarmed Combat - 2 Endurance - 2 Kris - 1 Brawling - 1 Subterfuge - 2 Socialization - 1 Observation - 2 Medicine - 2 Lore: Combat: Never Attack in Anger Endurance: You Still Have Limits Unarmed Combat: Body Punches Brawling: Art Born of Desperation Subterfuge: Words Don't Hide Scars Rak'keli: Goddess of Healing Karvin and Lostrum Gillia: A Truly Kind and Caring Akalak Medicine: Resetting Your Own Nose Additional: [*] Minor scratches and cuts on both wrists; will heal fully within ten days [*] Slightly but permanently crooked nose Click Me! : Another great one, love. I liked how much THOUGHT you put into this; you didn't just plow into vengeance and murder, you have Kiva realize she had to be SMART about getting her revenge. I liked the contrast between Purple Dickhead and Karvin, too, very well done. Oh, and please make sure you go back and edit your post in the Request Thread to reflect the fact this one is now done and dusted. PM me with any questions and later 'tater!