Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon (
jaskoleczka) wrote2021-10-09 10:36 pm
{ pfsb } flee from Temple Isle
One second, she was on her knees, cold stone hard through the leather of her trousers, hearing Dandelion shouting her name and watching an arrow speeding towards her –
The next, she's gasping in cool, misty autumn air, her knees and shins growing wet from the heavy evening dew that has settled on the grass where she kneels. Ciri looks about herself in a near-panic, then buries her face in her hands, trying to keep from sobbing with reaction and fear and pain.
She'd made it. Milliways: the first pleasant, peaceful place that came to mind when she made her jump from one world to another.
Half-turning, she winces at a sharp complaint from her back, and her eyes grow wide as she studies the arrow buried halfway up its shaft in the ground just behind her. "That was a near miss," she murmurs to herself, and pulls it from the ground as she slowly gets to her feet, aching, her back burning. Once upright, she locates the main building and begins staggering her way towards it, step by determined step, stumbling a slightly drunken path through the wet grass and quiet night.
The next, she's gasping in cool, misty autumn air, her knees and shins growing wet from the heavy evening dew that has settled on the grass where she kneels. Ciri looks about herself in a near-panic, then buries her face in her hands, trying to keep from sobbing with reaction and fear and pain.
She'd made it. Milliways: the first pleasant, peaceful place that came to mind when she made her jump from one world to another.
Half-turning, she winces at a sharp complaint from her back, and her eyes grow wide as she studies the arrow buried halfway up its shaft in the ground just behind her. "That was a near miss," she murmurs to herself, and pulls it from the ground as she slowly gets to her feet, aching, her back burning. Once upright, she locates the main building and begins staggering her way towards it, step by determined step, stumbling a slightly drunken path through the wet grass and quiet night.

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The movement in the distance draws his attention, and as he realizes who it is and how she's moving, Lan Wangji goes swiftly to join her.
"Ciri?"
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She's so grateful she could nearly cry. "Lan Wangji," she says. She hesitates to touch him, knowing his dislike of physical contact, but with every step the fire in her back grows, as adrenaline ebbs from her system.
"May I – my back – "
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He can see, as she can not, the rent in her shirt that goes diagonally from shoulder to opposite hip, and the crimson stain slowly soaking along the tear. She puts an arm around his shoulder and winces. "Thank you," she says, and huffs a pained breath of laughter.
"One of these days you won't have to carry me to the inn when I appear, wouldn't that be nice?"
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"But as that is not today, hold on to me."
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"I'm glad I made it here," she murmurs. "It was the first pleasant place that came to mind. The lake, the forest... my friends."
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He moves as gracefully as he can across the grass toward the inn, trying to avoid jostling her.
"Was it the Hunt?"
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Dandelion certainly wasn't of any help. "I let one flank me. Stupid."
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She wonders if the white-haired doctor, Kim, will be there again, and a wry half-smile tugs at her mouth. This would seem all too familiar if she were.
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"I can see if Madam Bar knows of a healer who could be summoned. I have only the ability to clean your wound and share spiritual energy."
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"It's shallow, I think. Shouldn't even need stitches." At least, not if the Temple Guardsman's sword had been properly sharpened. "If you can help me bind it up, I think a little rest will do the trick."
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"If it makes you feel better," she tells, "I will come back to see one of the doctors tomorrow."
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He draws some water from the basin into a clean bowl and carries everything over to begin tending her back.
"What happened?"
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She sighs a little and shakes her head. "I knew he couldn't be trusted, but I had no other choice."
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“What were you trying to do?”
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She thinks of the blue spark of magic – Chaos – spiritual energy that leapt from Lan Wangji's fingers when he examined the box. "It may be fixed, but I had to leave it behind."
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She shakes her head. "I don't know what happened to Dandelion. I hope they didn't hurt him."
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“If you need help when you return,” he murmurs, as he applies bandages over the ointment, “I hope you will tell us.”
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"Weeks have passed for me since I last came here. There is much to tell, and unfortunately not much that is particularly good."
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He draws her shirt back up over her shoulders and moves to her side, holding out his hand. "Give me your wrist."
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