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Post by Grace de Beaumont on Dec 21, 2009 5:34:39 GMT
Grace's dagger struck true, sinking into something so foul, it left her gagging. But the grip on her neck did not cease but squeezed. Grace's knees buckled as the air pressed from her lungs -- not by the creatures grasp but by horror.
Images flowed through the young woman's mind... horrible, terrifying images. Her father bleeding and gutted, her brothers, decapitated, her mother, burnt. Corpses of dead family and friends, servants and villagers, all reached for her, fingers clutching, eyes reproachful. The hair seemed to stand up on Grace's head and she clutched her eyes closed and screamed.
The piercing cry echoed through the woods, birds taking wing in startlement. Trying to take a breath, Grace felt she was suffocating, smothered in a nightmare of memory. Frozen in place now, she could not move, could not kick herself free of the fetid breathed one who leaned panting into her neck. This is death, Grace thought, visions swimming still before her vision. Her mother's long hair plastered in blood, Richard dead on the ground, cold and grey. Grace screamed again.
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 21, 2009 5:53:03 GMT
The other hag had come back as Richard turned. He hacked at the thing and with each of Grace's screams, his heart clenched hard. No, don't ye dare be hurt. Don't be sick. Don't ye die. The creature keened at the bite of his sword and he hacked again at its neck. Chopping at it as if it was a tree. It died.
When he again turned to help Grace he almost gagged at the sight. The thing had bitten the back of her neck, he could see the wind from its nose blowing against her thick hair. Something like raven's wings crossed the back of his own neck. Richard cried out something guttural, it was a cry of pure rage. Blood pumped hard through him, his vision seemed to be hyper clear but hazy all at once. It took little effort to pull the creature from Grace. So deep was he in rage the nightmares did little more than spur his anger.
Richard threw the creature away from him and then hacked at its neck with his sword. Then again, the dull thud against something hard in its throat making his stomach twist with disgust. When the creature was beheaded he scrambled to Grace's side, dropping his sword as he did so.
"Grace," he pulled her against him and tangled a hand into her hair, searching for the wound on the back of her neck. "Darling lass." Richard's voice was little more than a pant as the exertions caught up with him. Making his limbs tremble.
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Post by Grace de Beaumont on Dec 21, 2009 6:07:23 GMT
Caught in the miasma of her nightmarish visions, Grace stared outward with blank eyes, pupils blown wide, mouth now slack. All was gone, everything destroyed, she was alone and nothing.... would.... ever... change that. Grace knew it in her heart and soul, knew it even as the thing that held her suddenly began to change shape.
No longer the creature in an old woman's form, the face that swam into her vision was familiar, even beloved -- Richard. Not dead, he's not dead. Grey eyes blinking rapidly like a sleeper awakening, Grace slowly began to move again. Consciousness flooded her senses. "Not dead," she whispered, a shaking hand flopping to Richard's arm, grasping him, trying to regain coordination. He felt warm, real, alive, and Grace breathed heavily in profound relief.
"You're.... oh god in heaven!" Her head turned, looking, still fearful. "Is it gone?"
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 21, 2009 6:16:19 GMT
"Aye, aye its gone." Richard felt blood on his hands and he pressed his palm onto her neck. Trying to hold the precious life stuff in. "Shh, it bit ye. Hold still." Staring down at Grace with his chest heaving and gasping for air, Richard felt cold from knowing how close he had been to losing her.
"By all that is holy and good," he breathed and hunched over with closed eyes. So tired and yet he clutched at Grace, sloping his shoulders protectively over her and palm firm on her neck. "You were hagridden, weren't you? Inflicted with nightmares. That's why you were screaming." Richard shuddered.
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Post by Grace de Beaumont on Dec 21, 2009 6:46:12 GMT
Grace was perplexed, still confused from the hag's effects. She tried to twist about to see what was wrong with her neck. "Yes, I.... it was..." Her throat tried to close from tears. "Terrible things, saw terrible things. That's what it felt like, nightmares. An' I couldn't wake up."
Which each breath, Grace grew stronger and with that came the realization of pain. It wasn't very bad, a stinging bite but certainly endurable. Grace gently prodded through Richard's hand, feeling the wound. "It's not bad," she murmured. "I've got it now." Reaching forward with her other hand, Grace was surprised to see the dagger still clutched in her grip. It had brownish thick goo on the blade and Grace stared at it in horror before her hand dropped open, spilling the dagger to the grass.
"Look.... I stabbed it!" Grace breathed in amazement, forgetting her wound but as she looked up at Richard, her face clenched in worry. Moving out of the circle of his arms, Grace clutched at his tunic front. "Richard, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 21, 2009 7:01:29 GMT
"Aye, you stabbed it. Wha-. . ." Grace was moving out of his arms and then she grabbed his tunic front. He put his hands onto his legs to keep them from shaking. "Tired, tha's all. Very tired. Not important. You . . . you were screaming. But you stabbed. Stabbed . . ." Groaning, he grabbed his head and rubbed his skin, trying to wake himself from his babbling.
"I'm sorry." When he spoke his voice was level. The note of hysteria gone. "You right scared me ye did."
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Post by Grace de Beaumont on Dec 21, 2009 17:07:20 GMT
Grace managed a small, relieved smile. "I right scared myself, too."
Richard worried Grace terribly, the way he was acting. She had been witness to him in fights before, times when they were on the road, attacked by thieves and marauders. Corrupt guardsmen in small towns who wanted bribes for letting them pass. Richard was always steady in battle, graceful even as he let loose his sword upon any enemies. Hardly breaking a sweat.
This was different. Maybe there had been magic involved that she wasn't aware of. Terrible, wild magic that no mortal man and weapon could fight against. Something was wrong -- the big man was really shaken and that rattled Grace even more.
Clutching onto his upper arm, Grace turned around and searched the surrounding forest warily. "We should get out of here," she whispered, low and determined. Letting him go only long enough to retrieve her dagger and his sword, Grace ducked under Richard's arm, lending her weight to his as he seemed unsteady. "We are leaving. Now."
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 22, 2009 2:44:02 GMT
Richard's pride was too great to allow Grace, his charge, to help him. He shrugged her off and stood on his own before sliding his sword back into the scabbard. Sweat was drying on his skin and it chilled him at the core. Still, he wasn't sure if he wanted to leave. There was something still here for them.
"Wait," now he reached for Grace, holding her arm as he looked around. Finally saw what was tugging at him. "Look there." The creature was pale and its coat shimmered like sun on the snow. Eyes ice blue, she gazed at them. Then she snorted and pawed at the ground, the corn rooted in her forehead stabbing into the air.
"Is that the creature ye told me about? Unicorn?"
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Post by Grace de Beaumont on Dec 22, 2009 5:25:28 GMT
About to fuss at Richard some more for moving too quickly, Grace was brought round by his exclamation. Momentarily frightened that another hag had found them, Grace peered around Richard's shoulder.
Her body froze, mouth slack at the sight. "Oh!" If the hag's had imbued an aura of disease and death, the creature before her was light and life. "Yes.... I-I think...." Unable to help herself, Grace stepped away, careful slow steps bringing her closer to the unicorn. Time stopped; there were no bird calls, no sky, no forest and no Richard. Only Grace and the unicorn.
Grace felt drawn to it, an invisible string pulling her across the clearing. The creature must have felt it too, for though it tossed its head, stepped restlessly from side to side, it did not take its eyes off of the young woman approaching. The skin on Grace's face tingled and chilled, and she realized tears had wetted her cheeks. "So beautiful," she breathed and raised her hand.
The unicorn reached forward immediately, one step then two bringing itself closer. The great eyes flashed intelligence and knowledge as they gazed on the woman, head ducking as it reached for her hand. But then pink nostrils flared, a snort of alarm. Her own eyes traveled down to her outstretched hand, only then noticing the blood. When she looked up again, the beast was gone.
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 22, 2009 5:37:23 GMT
I don't dare follow . . . Richard stood still as Grace walked towards the pearly white beast. Instead he ran his eyes over its form, noting the utter peace in her gaze and the magic contained in her flesh. A different longing from Grace's stirred him. He wanted to fall into the magic of this place. Take it into himself and then give it back in a new form.
It must have come across something it didn't like because suddenly it whirled quietly and its mane tangled in the wind. Then she was gone. Richard strode to Grace and touched her shoulder. He felt refreshed. Relaxed and calm again.
"She was a grand creature. I should leave something for the spirits of this place," Richard pulled out a coin from his pocket and tossed it towards a rowan. "You should too, the spirits gifted us with something wonderous. Tis a way of showing thanks."
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Post by Grace de Beaumont on Dec 22, 2009 5:50:56 GMT
Sniffing quietly, Grace half-turned away, dashing the tears away with the back of her hand. Raising her head, Grace smiled tightly at Richard but was not yet able to speak.
What he said made a kind of sense and she watched him toss the coin to the tree. Without a word, Grace removed her dagger and with a swift slice, cut off a sizable lock of her long golden hair. Twisting the end of the bundle together, she dropped the token next to Richard's coin.
Grace felt strangely bereft after the unicorn's passing, like she was gazing into the warmly lighted windows of a comfortable home and knowing she could never enter. More still, that she herself would never know such comfort. A deep longing tugged at her soul and she looked to the ground.
"It was so beautiful," Grace sighed before raising her head to Richard. "Are you sure you are well?"
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Post by Richard Cabal on Dec 22, 2009 7:38:22 GMT
"A worthy gift," he ran his hand through his own hair and his eyes were unfocused. The forest had returned to its previous aspect, containing natural danger but no magic. Richard knew that it held no more surprises for them that day.
"I feel better, my thanks." As if to prove it to her, he managed a smile and touched her shoulder gently. This time to coax her into walking. "We should leave now lass and we both should rest and eat much. I hear that days touched with these happenings can have tiring effects on mere magic-less beings like us."
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