brave_kreyu | OOM All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness -Part Seven

As he winds deeper and the crowd disappears, he can hear a young heart and a set of small feet barreling toward him, frightened. It's a small girl, perhaps 4 years old, who skids around a corner. She wavers for a moment when she first sees him, staring at where the shadow of his wings WOULD be, if they were visible. (They aren't visible right now, at least not to NORMAL humans.)

"Had to get him away from Momma," she pants between rapid breaths. "But after ME now."

The shadow of where his wings would be might grow to the eyes of certain people who are sensitive to that sort of thing as he feels them flare a little, protectively. He extends his reach of what he's listening for, wondering what has this child in such a fright.

"He won't catch you," he says, motioning for her to come closer to him as he kneels slightly. "Where is your Momma? Does she need help?"

Skellig does not yet send out a call for Kreyu, and keeps his emotions steady - if this is something he can handle on his own, he would not bother her.

Edited 2024-07-08 02:20 (UTC)

He can hear a man's footsteps, running, feel his anger. But there's something...wrong about his echoes, something Dark that feeds on human suffering.

She comes closer, although her eyes watch the shadow of his wings. She nods frantically. "Momma's so sick. She didn't get out of bed this morning, and she's so pale."

The little girl scowls. "Momma was doing better, until he came by yesterday. His shadow's full of rats, they make things go bad." PROBABLY not a literal description.

Edited 2024-07-08 02:26 (UTC)

Quickly debating his options - he doesn't want to fly anywhere with this many people around, but also doesn't want to risk using any of his Light in an effort to disguise their presence. And he REALLY does not want to fight this type of being with a child in tow.

"We will help your Momma," he reassures her.

Shadow full of rats. Scavengers. Picking up what they can to survive and feed. The footsteps are getting closer, but he still has time. He notices the wards are quite common here on these doorways and thresholds. Has this Being been a problem for a while now?

"Do you know another way to get back to her?" Another alleyway, a side street, anything? He extends his hand to her - if she takes it, the rustle of wings will cross her mind, a calming presence in his energy.

The little girl nods, takes his hand, and leads him down a different alleyway, one that looks like a dead end. "You just have to go over the wall, here," she tells him. It won't be hard to scramble over, even for Skellig. The courtyard on the other side is a karmic space, weak, but stable. A small temple to the Winged Goddess/Kreyu, from the wards on the walls.

The being's angry footsteps fade, waver, his anger flaring as they vanish from his senses.

As they approach what must be the girl's home, Skellig sees the warding symbol over the doorway, but this one has been defaced with what looks like a bloody hand-print. Inside, he can hear a woman's coughing, hear her heart, her body weakened by disease. The White Death has had many names, Consumption, Tuberculosis, but it has stalked humanity for a long, long time.

Skellig has no issue with getting the both of them over the wall safely, and while he does not stop listening for the footsteps of the one who was stalking the girl, he allows his focus to shift to the sounds of coughing and a weak heart. Much too weak. She said her Momma had not gotten out of bed this morning and was so very pale...

She is leading him so confidently in her steps, even if he would clearly be able to feel where he is being pulled towards.

Briefly he wonders what might be of the girl's father, as they near the doorway. The child did not mention him, so perhaps he is not here for one reason or another. Illness, death, travel, occupation- who is to say. The sense of suffering and overwhelming Dark strikes him hard as the girl tugs on his hand and leads him into the home.

Her soul still burns bright, for all her body is failing her. She has not yet gone past the point where he can heal her, especially with his reserves full to overflowing with Light as they are. She stirs, tries to sit up when she sees him, a stranger, holding onto her daughter's hand.

"It's okay Momma, he's going to help."

"Neferet," the woman starts, but her words are swallowed up by coughs that rack her body, bring up blood.

Letting go of the child's hand to move swiftly to the bedside, Skellig helps the woman sit up so she can spit the blood onto the linens - which are already quite stained.

"She is safe, as are you."

With the hand that is closest to her spine, he flattens his palm against her skin, the clammy texture causing his fingers to stick to the layers of sweat and grime. His first priority is working to stop the spasms that are causing the coughs, and then the second is to drain some fluid from her lungs, ease the struggle that each breath fights.

"My name is Skellig, I am a healer. You are quite ill," that is an understatement with the threads of disease running through her bloodstream. "But you are wise to seek the aid of the Great Lady."

Obviously, that is not him! But he has connections.

Neferet sits on the bed at her mother's feet. "I knew you could help, your shadow has owl wings," she states confidently. "And owls eat rats right up, I've seen them!"

The mother gives Neferet a LOOK while Skellig works to stop the spasms, drain the fluid. Clearly, this is not the first time Neferet has said something in her presence about people's shadows.

"The man who sired Neferet is trying to claim her," she tells Skellig as her breath eases. "He must not have her, whatever happens to me. Please."

"He will not," Skellig replies firmly, his focus on working to rid this plague and illness from her body - it is not something he can simply take into his own body as he did with Kreyu's wounds, his connection is not nearly as strong. This is a plague, thousands upon thousands of tiny pieces that have infiltrated the entire being of the woman. Each one clashes violently with his Light as he sends it out through her system, though the 'sparks' are so small she will hardly notice.

He adjusts his position where he is seated on the bed, turns and flashes a smile that is just ever-so-slightly sharp to Neferet. "Owls do eat rats," he replies, as if he is praising her for being so smart. "And all manner of other nasty creatures."

The mother's words: sired her clearly set the tone. He wonders if that Dark being is the sire of this child. If she is clearly god-touched in some manner, is her mother as well? Surely he would have been able to tell by now, though the layers of the White Death are putting up a struggle as he peels them back.

Edited 2024-07-08 12:01 (UTC)

There is the faintest flicker of SOMETHING in Neferet's mother. She has a touch of Sight, but it would be an inconsistent thing at best.

The mother's worry eases when Skellig says that he will not. "He's become something terrible, since the night I knew him."

"The rats in his shadow make people sick," Neferet chimes in.

Never has he typically been one to exclude children from a conversation simply because of their age (unless it is blatantly obvious the subject matter is best avoided) so his focus as he speaks is on Neferet.

"Does he ask the rats to run freely and choose who he makes sick? Or does it seem more as if he chooses, and then sends the rats after them? Have you ever noticed that?"

It may be an important distinction, it may not be - but facts will help regardless. He adjusts his hands on the mother's frame (she's frail and tired, muscles exhausted) and shifts one palm to the center of her chest between her breasts, places the other on her shoulder. More 'sparks' crackle through his system and hers, as the war continues within.

His voice low - this he shields from the child - he mutters a few words in an old tongue, long since forgotten by most. It causes her to cough and spit up some blood, but it is less than before. (That area of her lung was being a bit...difficult.) "Your name?" He asks the mother, once she has quit coughing.

Neferet frowns, thinking hard. "The rats are never far from him, I don't think they can leave him. I think he chooses, because they don't bite at everyone."

"Iset," she gasps. "You, you are one of the Wise." Someone with magic, as Skellig has heard Kreyu called before.

Nodding, he frowns faintly as he allows his senses to 'reach' a bit deeper, seeking out the last bits of the disease that are lingering within Iset's body, working to have his energy grab hold of them and wring them dry, wash them from her system.

"I am one of the Wise," he confirms quietly.

(Very little of the plague remains within Iset's body, but he can still sense a heavy burden of it in this room, perhaps either just within the walls or maybe the child carries it as well.)

"I follow the teachings of the Great Lady," he adds. "You are wise to seek her protection. No more harm will come to either of you, under her watch." Under 'our' watch, he nearly says, but he realizes it is best if he does not let out those details so freely. "This may be...uncomfortable. Trust me a moment."

He turns her head so that she can bury her face in his chest as she coughs out the last of the blood and disease, him not caring that the red splatter coats his skin. He just wishes for Neferet not to see.

The White Death sleeps in Neferet, waiting for an opportunity to strike. And the plague lurks in the walls, in the surfaces here. He can get rid of them with more power, more light.

Iset's breathing is easing already, under his care. "I would not have expected one of the Wise to come here, even with such vast mercy as the Great Lady possesses."

There is a flicker of shame across Iset's face. "I know that the gifts of the Wise are not wielded without cost, but I fear I have nothing to offer you, kind Skellig."

"It's okay, Momma." Neferet tells her. "I have something!" Neferet proffers a rock to Skellig as if it is a great treasure. It is a holey stone.

There is a linen rag on the bed which Skellig uses to quickly wipe away the majority of the blood upon his skin before he turns to see what Neferet is offering to him.

And his face brightens considerably, when he sees what it is.

"How did you know little one, that I hold such stones even higher in value than I do the most precious gems? Come here, let me see you," he adjusts his seated position on the bed, beckons the child to crawl closer from where she sits at the foot of the bed. "And show me this fine stone, while I would check you over as I did your Momma?"

Iset will clearly pick up on his underlying concern that her child is also ill; the nod she gives him is permission enough for him to continue.

Edited 2024-07-09 00:33 (UTC)

Iset doesn't MEAN to fall asleep, just close her eyes for a second, but the illness and the healing have both taken so much out of her.

Neferet gleefully sits right next to him and starts telling him about where she found the stone on the beach. There was a crab, and it tried to grab her toes, but she got the rock away from it!

This infection will be much easier to treat, just one small spot lying in wait for the right conditions to grow out of control.

Skellig listens very intently to her tale - such bravery, to snatch the rock away from the crab before it stole her toes! While doing so, he keeps a hand on her back carefully as he works to rid her body of the infection, Light charging into her system to scoop up the Darkness and White Death and carry it off - much like her "battle" with the crab.

"It is clear to me that you are a special heart, Neferet. And you will do great things. You just must be careful as you are young, about who it is that you speak about shadows with. I will ask my friend if there is someone who might mentor you, help you grow in your strength."

Once he is satisfied he has cleared her body of infection, he lowers his voice, whispering. "We must let your mother rest. But I would not take this rock from you without a trade. Can you keep a secret, little one?"

Neferet's mother has mentioned that to her before, about being careful who she talks about shadows with. Perhaps, coming from Skellig, it will stick!

Neferet nods rapidly. "I am good at keeping secrets."

"I trust you. "

Skellig glances over at Iset - she is sound asleep, her body already desperately trying to recover now that she can BREATHE - and then reaches up to his neck, to slip off his amulet. The "shadow" vanishes and this in turn exposes his wings, which he carefully stretches the smallest amount before he brings one forward, close enough for the child to touch.

(Meanwhile, he quickly preens at his shoulder with one hand, seeking out a few feathers that are loose enough to pluck free.)

"You were right about the wings," he says softly.

Neferet makes an awed, open mouthed expression! "You have owl wings!" she whispers. Clearly, that is the coolest thing ever!

She touches the tips of his feathers oh so carefully. "They're soft, not like duck feathers at all."

If he has to 'help' nudge Iset to keep her asleep for an extra few moments, he will.

"They are for flight in silence," he says, nodding. "Where a duck cares less about how much noise it makes."

With a few feathers plucked free, he carefully offers them over to her on an upturned palm.

"Trade for the stone? I would add it on this cord," he says, indicating the amulet. "Which I wear with me always. That way if you or your Momma should need help, it would be easier for me to find you."

She takes one feather, carefully. "People can do bad things, if they have a piece of you," she tells him. "And I'm LITTLE, what if they took your feather from me?"

"You are little, but you are very smart, and very brave. I trust that you will keep that feather safe as best as you can."

He weaves the other two feathers back into his wing easily, then threads the rock onto the cord with his owl amulet, tying an extra knot to separate the two pieces.

"If somehow that feather is taken, you do not need to worry. I promise." It is not a lie - one feather in the hands of a Dark being could not truly do that much harm to him, especially as it carries no blood.

"Okay," she says, softly. The feather is placed into the 'pocket' where the stone was, where she keeps her treasures.

"Thank you, for helping Momma." She doesn't realize that Skellig healed her too.

"He'll be back, though," she says, worry creeping into her voice. She's not wrong, Skellig can just sense the edges of THAT presence again, of the man who was chasing her.

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