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

Kreyu feels his 'push', turns in concern from where she's shopping. She starts to head toward the coastline, worried about Skellig.

He's loved, here. She would never let THAT happen to him!

If Skellig is far enough up when he lets go, he won't have to worry about the effects the Dark being's death by drowning might have on him.

Normally Skellig would respond to Kreyu with something a bit more detailed - something like I am fine just dealing with a problem but all he can manage in his current state of mind when he feels her gentle probe of concern across their connection is a brief, simple four words:

Not hurt. Bring soap.

He does not waste time with arguing with the Dark being or telling him why he's doing this. It is clearly obvious. So once he is far enough out and over deep enough water, he drops him without preamble and then banks hard, heading back to the shoreline (the death is swift, nothing more than a twitch across Skellig's 'radar') and landing on a deserted strip of beach, the white sands surrounded by high cliffs, inaccessible except by air.

She will find him stripped of his kilt and standing at the waters edge, he has scrubbed the spit off his face with saltwater but the rest of it he's about to deal with when she arrives.

Kreyu does bring soap, and cloth for drying off with, and quite a LOT of worry.

"Skellig? Love? You smell like blood, and the White Death." She hangs back a bit, uncertain, but fidgeting, anxious.

"Not my blood. Long story."

When he looks at her, she will notice a hint of a storm behind his eyes - there is anger and sadness and worry all wrapped together with a bit of his feral nature creeping through, but he is not wounded. Nor are his reserves that low, but some of his Light is noticeably gone and drained.

"Healed two of it. Not sure if it can make you sick." He strides into the water - thankfully the surf is not too wild here, as he goes up to his chest, not caring that his wings are getting wet. "If it can, stay back until I am clean."

He steps deeper, struggles a little - being light means it is hard for him to 'sink' beneath the waves, but that also frustrates him. With an irritated growl, he forces his entire body underwater and then comes up shaking his wings awkwardly. He just wants this OFF of him, needs the soap, but doesn't went her sick!

"I can cast a spell to make it safe for me to approach you, but it will sting," she tells him when he surfaces.

"We will have to go back there soon, then, if two were sick there are likely more." WE, because she's not letting him handle EVERYTHING by himself.

"I do not want to pass anything to you. Do what you must."

His voice is a little curt, but it is not directed towards her, just the situation. Skellig dunks himself under again and then as he resurfaces, scrubs furiously at his upper arms with a handful of fine white sand. This will help, until he gets the soap at least. He is going to clearly be a mess, and he's still struggling.

The spell does sting, as it crawls across his body, but she's THERE, moments later, with soap and cloths to dry off with.

And with touch, gentle, on his shoulder, worried, but full of Light.

The soap smells like honey and cinnamon, as she passes it to him. "Do you want my help washing off?"

"I will need it, there are places I cannot reach easily. My wings are going to be a wreck," he huffs and shakes them, already VERY irritated with the sand and water being EVERYWHERE but at least now there is soap. "But I could not avoid it. There was a young child, and her mother."

Skellig looks up at her as he is harshly scrubbing at his chest, where the worst of the blood spatter - rinsed off by the waves, but he can still FEEL the sickness despite the sting from her spell.

"I was pulled."

"Ah, no wonder." She picks up some soap and the cloth, starts working on the parts of his body that are harder to reach.

"They are lucky you were called to them. The White Death is a dreadful thing, impossible to cure without magic."

"They are located in a lesser area of the city. Nearer one of your temples. The child... she is young, but Wise. She spoke of shadows, could sense my wings. I do not think her mother holds as much Sight as she does. I did not tell them exactly who I was... but told them I would speak to a friend about a mentor for the girl. She needs trained, for her safety."

He scowls slightly.

"The man who sired her...Darkness." That will explain some of the Mood that Skellig is in. "He wished to claim her to repay a debt to a greater being. I did not allow that to happen." He glances towards the deeper water. "He did not harm me, but..."

"I thought I had someone in all of the temples who could treat the White Death," Kreyu mutters. "Maybe that temple popped up in the last ten years, after I moved some people around?"

She shakes her head, as if to clear it. "Yes, she will need to be trained. I know a few people who might suit."

Kreyu scowls with him. "But it hurts, the Darkness."

"He said some things," Skellig is Intentionally Vague as his eyes narrow at the waves that break beyond the reef that protects this cove. "And then spit upon me. It caused..."

Not even realizing just how HARD he is scrubbing, he is working at his neck, skin turning a bit red and raw from the mix of the salt, sand, and soap.

"I remembered, from Before. I was hungry, begging. A higher man than I came to walk past, I thought perhaps I would collect enough to eat. Instead he spit upon me. Called upon me to work, called me a freak. I hurt, I was just hungry."

He can feel the rage building in his energy again, but woven throughout the strands are others - shame, regret, depression, so many other emotions he has not had to consider since he arrived in the desert. "It hurts."

Kreyu gently but firmly grabs his hands where he is scrubbing at his neck, wraps her wings around him tight. There is RAGE in her energy, but so much love for him. "That was no MAN," she snarls, the sound too dragon for a human throat. "Not even a beast, for a beast can not be cruel."

She calls the wound of the raw skin into her body, then heals her flesh with karma. She places her lips upon that place, so gentle, kisses him softly. "If only I could take the pain in your mind and your heart away as easily as the pain in your flesh," she whispers.

Exhaling roughly, he does not fight her as she presses her lips against his skin.

"Why is it that which I recall, and nothing else? I would rather remember nothing, be left with a void of static, than have to relive that cruelty."

He KNOWS it is a question to which there is no good answer, but it still frustrates him. He shifts his hands to interlock their fingers, turns to allow his forehead to fall and rest against hers.

"I would ask you to search me, ensure there is nothing I have picked up from that Darkness that might harm you. I...I asked your brother to do the same to me when we first met, as he raised the concern of my arrival and our meeting being perhaps...too convenient, to be truly no more than the Fates."

"He did WHAT?" Kreyu asks, voice sharp for a moment before she takes a deep breath, forces herself to settle. "Paranoid Pain in My Ass," she growls. "If he'd been right, the damn fool could have KILLED YOU, and I wouldn't have even gotten the chance to say goodbye.." Her voice cracks, full of tears.

Her energy is full of anger, grief, fear of what might have been.

His energy is already raw and ragged from the incident earlier and now with her emotions running beneath the surface of her Karma, it worsens ever-so-slightly - but it is in no way her fault...

"He admitted that you were a far stronger mage," he says quietly. "And he told me that he could not ensure my safety, if indeed a trap had been laid for you. I told...I asked him to do it regardless, as my only concern was your safety above all..."

Skellig can feel her anger well up beneath the surface, and presses a hand to her chest. "I was foolish to do so. Blinded by my love for you. I have grown stronger in not only our connection, but in my Self, since then. I will not jump so recklessly again, I swear it. I know now that losing me would... would ruin you. I just had never known that sort of love, that limitless depth."

She IS angry, when he says his only concern was her safety, but his hand on her chest and his words after help deflate that anger.

"I'm glad you know better now," she says at last, voice still jagged with unshed tears. "That you would not jump so recklessly, value yourself so little."

She kisses that spot on his neck again. "I will check, once you are clean and dry, since you wish it."

She may be plotting to spoil him in EVERY way she can, tonight. A kind of tonic against that cruel memory.

While typically he might protest being spoiled, tonight he will not.

"I know I still reek of the White Death and of Darkness," he says, voice low. "And we are here, waist deep in the surf and I cannot even swim, but if it would not bother you I would ask you to stay by my side, until I am clean."

"You can't swim?" she asks, concerned. "I was going to insist on staying with you anyway, but THAT just gives me an excuse."

Unless he protests, she'll help him clean and dry off, then have him rest on one of the rocks while she does her 'check'.

"Nothing left behind," she says after a while, her gaze refocusing on the physical world.

"That was much less...jarring," he comments, once she has finished checking him over and he 'rejoins' her. "Perhaps as our bond is already so tight, it is less difficult for you to find your way."

He is at least clean and dry (the kilt is a goner and deserves the fires of the Lair if it is not given instead to the depths of the ocean first) and even with the state he is in, he is safe.

"...and no, I cannot swim. I was never taught, and my body...I am light, except when my wings are waterlogged, and then I just...I am a mess."

Skellig sighs heavily.

"I am a mess. I got nothing from your list. Nearly adopted a child," he grumbles. "Could imagine THAT when you'd come to find me on this beach."

Kreyu snorts. "Or my brother has all the finesse of a bull in a pottery shop when it comes to magic."

"I would like to teach you, just for safety's sake."

She combs her fingers through one of his wings. "You did far more important things than shopping," she assures him. She flushes a little when he mentions the child. "I, I would not have minded," she confesses. "If the child truly needed us. It would be easier, once we are more settled, but.."

She smiles, cups his face. "We would have managed."

"If her mother had been too far gone when I had arrived, I would not have left her," he offers. "Thankfully while her body was weakened, her soul had not. I could not tell until I entered their home why exactly I had been pulled so fiercely, if it was to act as a healer or if she needed... an escort."

Skellig is still clearly a bit bothered by his lack of 'control' over his abilities, even as they are strengthening.

"Her name is Neferet," he adds quietly. "I could not tell exactly what she can sense... she was able to see my wings within the shadows, knew they were of an owl... knew the shadow of her sire was full of rats."

He brings his hand to his neck, fingers touching the amulet which now has the additional holey stone tied onto the cord. "Her mother felt shame for not been able to pay me, I argued there was no need, but Neferet gave me this."

She touches the rock, gentle. "Loved, for Karma clings to it," she says. "And stones such as these DO have a use in certain magics, particularly wards."

Neferet has good instincts, perhaps.

"Humans who can sense such things without training are as rare as dragons," she explains. "Literal, metaphorical, both or neither, impossible to say at this point." She chuckles. "You find the most wonderful treasures, my love."

"I would train Neferet myself, when the time comes," she adds, finishing off drying Skellig's wings. "She needs to be with her mother now, and I fear my teaching is not best suited to a beginner. But, when she is older...."

"She will benefit from your guidance," he says firmly. "That I know for certain."

Once he is dry enough that he feels as if he would be able to fly without issue, he looks to her and the glances toward her bag which rests on a rock nearby.

"Did you at least manage to get enough for us before I interrupted with..." He waves a hand towards the water's edge. "...my mess?"

"I have enough for dinner and for breakfast," she tells him. "We'll need to come back here tomorrow in any case, track down any other cases of the White Death before they have a chance to spread."

She caresses his cheek. "Would you like to come home with me, Skellig?" she asks. Her voice drops low. "I promise I don't bite," she teases.

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