The battered wagon rattles along the rutted road, keeping Samira from ever truly relaxing. She looks up past her hood to the perpetually gray sky, and feels a guilty pang of homesickness for Abu Dhabi. A glance to her left makes her feel even more guilty, as Jael looks as if he hasn't slept in days. Their desperate journey has been hard on the boy, making the young Khatta seem bent with age, but he's still only as old as Samira herself, barely even an adult.
The road they follow cuts through a valley, where stone edifices climb the slopes to either side, yet look more like huts or storehouses than buildings. The Savanite has never seen tombs before, but she can sense their purpose. It makes her clutch the satchel holding her music box all the tighter, as it reminds her of her master's funeral. She was the only inheritance that Jael got from his father, a slave that was good at dancing but not much else.
It takes some time before Aviri realizes he's the Savanite girl. And that the gray feline is her owner, but also in some ways her brother. There was a problem with money, and Jael fled instead of selling her to settle it. And there was something else that made it urgent, but Samira isn't very aware of it. She doesn't like Sylvania, but it was a good place to get lost in.
It only takes Aviri a few moments from realizing he's---she's a---no the Savanite girl to connecting the dots and concluding this must also be a dream. Although presumaly without any communication with the mute, if their ghosts were also mute. She pulls at her hood, trying to block the chill breeze as she looks around, taking stock of the wagon's contents, and giving Jael a long look, for the moment just bathing in the feeling knowing he'd run rather than part with her.
There are only a few meager supplies in the open wagon - a barrel of water, bedrolls and some jerky. Jael is trying to focus on the road, since the old Dromodon they got with the wagon tends to wander to one side if not corrected. The trees in the valley are all barren and skeletal. To Samira, it seems that trees in Sylvania are either dead or huge and ominous. Nothing like the palm trees she grew up around.
Aviri remembers that the previous dream took place mere hours before Silv's death. She looks again at Jael, and at herself, at how young they are. Although Aviri is more used to the forboding fauna, the realization that this might be Samira's demise turns them appropriately frightening. She adjusts her seat closer to Jael, either for protection, or in the hopes she'd be able to protect him, although Aviri isn't sure which.
"We'll stop soon," Jael promises, and manages a smile for the cheetah. "There's a town just past this valley, and.." The boy is interrupted by something striking the wagon bench between them. Both look at it in confusion, before realizing it's a crossbow bolt. "No.. nononono.." Jael chants and tries to spur the dray to move faster, which it seems reluctant to do.
Aviri's eyes linger on the bolt only long enough to identify it as such, and deduce a rough estimate of from where it came. She sits a bit forward, her legs, cramped from having sat for so long, ready to pounce in case she sees something.
It's hard to focus on anything with the wagon bouncing about. The road is rough, and some of the wheel ruts are deep. The Dromodon stumbles, and the wagon jams itself into one of the ruts, nearly throwing the felines from the bench. Jael is quick to leap down and start unhitching the dray. "We can leave the wagon and ride its back.." he claims.
Aviri holds the music-box close to herself as she stumbles, deciding it'd be more graceful to drop to the ground and catch herself there. She starts half-pulling, half-lifting the wagon to attempt to free it, but Jael's words stop her. She nods and helps free the other side of the yolk, her eyes frequently darting toward the bolt's origins.
There's movement now near one of the tombs. Three men.. Khattas.. are hurrying down the slope towards the road. One of them is holding up a crossbow, which has been reloaded.
Aviri instinctively tries to yelp, and grabs Jael to pull him behind what cover exists due to the dray and the wagon.
"What, we have to.." Jael tries to say, but doesn't fight the pull. When they're behind the wagon, a voice calls out, "We know it's you, Jael! Did you really think you'd get away with cheating the boss, kitten?"
Aviri tries to gesticulate the idea of the loaded crossbow, which is difficult since she still has a hand clasped around Jael's arm. She quickly releases it, once she realizes why she can't use her left arm properly, the slave-spirit a bit horrified that she'd so roughly grabbed her master.
Surprisingly, Jael grabs Samira's hand. "Don't be afraid," he tells her, then lets go and stands up. "Look, you don't have to kill me.. we can work something out!" he shouts.
"We aren't here to kill you," the lead thug replies, once they've reached the road. "We don't kill thieves."
Aviri feels herself give Jael's hand a tight squeeze before she nods, though it's hard to not be afriad. She tries to not panic, or hyperventilate. Upon hearing the thug's voice she attempts to peak over the dray's back and see what was happening. She then looks behind them; maybe there was a way they could run to flee...?
There's someone walking up the road behind them as well. He isn't carrying a crossbow though.. it looks like he just has a hatchet on his belt.
"What.. what do you want then?" Jael calls out nervously.
"Just your right hand, boy," the leader calls. "That's all Master Borso wants. You stole his trust and tried to sell it. Did you think it would work?"
Aviri presses herself against the dray when she sees the guy with the hatchet. So no, probably couldn't run. Though when she hears the hand thing, she looks to Jael's hand, then immeidately out into the wilderness, trying to search his Lapi brain for what plants she could use to ease Jael's suffering, if it came to that.
Aside from moss and skeletal trees, there isn't much to see.
"And.. and you'll leave us after that?" Jael asks in a cracking voice.
"Yeah, we'll leave you," the leader says. "You'll never have to look over your shoulder again, I promise."
Aviri lets out a frustrated huff at the lack of fauna, and then looks back to Jael, feeling useless.
"Wait here," Jael tells Samira, and squeezes her shoulder with his right hand. "Don't draw attention. They just want me.. this is my problem. I'll get us out of it."
Aviri nods and gulps nervously, squeezing that hand, knowing it'd be the last tine she could.
Jael takes a deep breath, and then walks around the wagon to confront the men. The one trailing with the hatchet gives Samira little more than a glance before passing by. But it's not as if she can do anything to them, other than dance at them.
She had considered dancing at them; recalling what it did to the pirates, but something told her that the thugs, if they enjoyed it, would still take Jael's hand, and maybe her as well. She remains where Jael left her, holding the music-box, trying to discern what's happening by the sounds.
There are low voices, and then a terrible chopping sound followed by a scream and the smell of blood. There is also an odd scraping sound. Non-Lapi ears aren't as good at pinpointing exactly where the sound comes from.
Aviri winces and clasps her hands over her ears at the scream. Only for a few seconds, though. still presses herself against the wagon, and pulls at the hem of her cloak, on one side, trying to tear off some of the cloth for use as a tourniquet and bandage.
There's whimpering from around the wagon, and more sounds of scraping and grunting. "Just a bit more," the leader says, from somewhere off the road. "He's not going anywhere."
The whimpering and scraping starts to get Aviri worried. Halfway through tearing at her cloak she looks around the edge of the wagon. It almost sounded like they were dragging him...!
She can see Jael's back, where he's on his knees and hunched over. The Dromodon is being antsy, but the thugs aren't immediately visible.
She wants to rush out to him, to care for him, but his instructions still rings in her ears. She stays back, checking around herself warily, looking for the thugs. If and when they leave, she could go out without drawing attention, and thus would only be breaking half the instructions.
Nobody seems to be looking at the wagon that she can see. Certainly there isn't anyone between her and Jael. The men have moved off somewhere else, but not far.
Aviri peeks all the way around the wagon, checking if they're not just hiding right there for some reason.
She spots them finally, up the left slope of the valley. They're clustered around one of the stone tombs, doing something.
Aviri takes a moment, then darts out to Jael, finishing tearing the hem mid-stride. She quietly crouches down beside him, weilding the cloth, making to tie it around his upper arm above the elbow.
There is a lot of blood. Jael wasn't in the best shape before, and he looks like he's shock now, just holding onto the stump weakly. He doesn't seem to notice Samira at all.
There's a final thunk sound from up on the slope, and the men start back down towards the road.
Aviri ties the cloth as tight as she can around his arm, hoping to stem the flow. Wishing she could have prepared some sort of herb mixture, she tears more cloak from the other side into two pieces. The sound makes her look up, and she winces, but seeing Jael in such bad shape prevents her from returning to the wagon, at least alone. She wraps her arm around him and tries to get him to stand, to get toward the barrel of water.
"Whoa there," the leader calls out, and jogs towards them. "What're you doing, little girl? We'll take care of him."
After a few moments Aviri relinquishes Jael. Either they actually would help him, in which case being in the way would only be detrimental, or they wouldn't, in which case she'd best be somewhere she could potentially throw a water barrel at them. Still holding her two bits of cloak she retreats to the back of the wagon.
The big cat easily carries the teenager. But he doesn't bring him to the wagon. He turns and starts up the slope towards the tomb.
No! Aviri wishes she could shout, could demand to know what they planned. The fact that they'd (probably) opened that ominous structure didn't bode well. She rushes across the road, up the hill, at a bit of a distance from the tomb, to see if it was really open, trying to be quick enough taht she could get to the thug and her master before they reached the tomb.
The tomb is open, and the other four men are still around. "Hey, the slave is running!" one shouts. The crossbow wielding one takes aim, yelling, "Stop!"
She stops upon seeing the open door, and moves, at a pace designed to be non-threatening, to get between the leader and the tomb. She points at Jael, then at the cart, and makes a cutting-off-her-hand gesture, then points at the four.
"Oh, we're keeping our promise," the leader says, carrying Jael towards the tomb undeterred. "We're not going to kill him."
The Savanite's eyes fill with horror at the thug's words. She moves again to block the leader, but aside from repeating the gesture she doesn't know what she can do. The thought of him dying slowly in the tomb, either alone or with her, is unbearable. The grief pulls her to the ground, and out of a complete lack of any power on her own part, she silently pleads to the leader to drop Jael.
One of the others puts a hand on Samira's head, just in case she tries to bite or something. The head thug doesn't even look at her, but Jael does, with wide terrified eyes, just before he's tossed into the tomb. "Toss her in too," he says to the one holding the Savanite. "I don't want to have to deal with her, and we aren't getting paid to kill her."
The addition of her own imminent demise adds little to the sorrow in Samira's eyes. She turns, looking at the other thugs, looking for confirmation that they were actually going to do this, a tiny portion of her soul hoping that maybe one of them had an ounce of compassion.
"You can walk in and tend to your master like a good slave, or you can be thrown in," the one holding her says. Well, that's not exactly compassionate on his part.
Samira grabs at the thug's hand, not fighting, just squeezing it, hoping maybe physical contact would help him realize the heartless act his leader was commanding.
"Sorry kid, but you've seen what happens to guys who cross the boss," the man says, and just gives her a nudge towards the tomb.
She can hardly see through the tears filling her eyes. She clings to him with her right hand, and repeats the chopping-it-off gesture with the other in a quisitive way, as though to say You have his hand, which is what you wanted!
"That's just for proof," the leader says. "The rest is for breaking the boss's heart. And that's the last time I'm justifying anything to a slave."
The next time Samira blinks tears roll tracks down her face. Her breathing is ragged, but she still holds onto the guy's hand with her right. With her left she points to Jael and her, then down the road where they'd been going. She makes a 'nobody' gesture, then points at her eyes, then at Jael and her again.
"Well, you should be honored then," the man nudging her says. "These are probably the tombs of important people. So maybe someday you'll be dug up and thought to have been somebody." He then shoves her into the tomb.
Finally her hold on the hand, which wasn't all that forceful to begin with, is broken. She sprawls against the stone, picks herself up and, instead of fighting, or making a break for the entrance, just hugs Jael again. She still has the two bits of cloth. She uses the thinner one to clean, as best she can, the stump, then the broader one to cover it, then the thin one to affix it to his arm. As though the stump was still important.
The stone slab that serves as a door is slowly pushed back into place, taking all of the men to move it. When it's closed there's no light. "I'm sorry, Samira," Jael says weakly. "Could you play the music box for me?"
The Savanite strokes his head gently, pulling her master onto her lap as she fished the box out of her satchel. It's difficult to wind and open it with one hand while she coddles Jael, but soon the notes fill the tomb with tinny music. Still running her fingers through Jael's fur, Samira gently rocks back and forth with the tune, hoping maybe Jael would be able to think of how she danced when times were better.
She'd really like to dance now. The music takes on more depth over time, until it seems like an entire orchestra. And she can dance. Dance forever! Until the music stops, and something breaks the silence that follows. Scraping.. banging.. sounds that seem wrong, somehow. For the first time in.. a long time.. there's light, but it's murky. Everything is under water, and the forms that enter the tomb aren't like any she's seen. But it doesn't matter. Someday there'll be music and dancing again..
Aviri wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling wet for a moment. But he.. she.. is still dry, wearing an uncomfortable corset and having an otter's nose stuck to the back of her neck. But at least Scarlet isn't snoring.
Aviri takes a heavy sigh. Or, rather, tries to. Due to the changes of her body, she feels close enough to Samira that it's almost like this was a continuation of the dream. In a way, it was. Her stomach turns, and for a moment she feels like she's going to puke. She manages to not, though. She stares out into the dark cabin, unable to get back to sleep. Maybe afraid to get back sto sleep.