"S-Simin," Sounsyy breathed unsteadily. Her face, too, was becoming stricken with pallor. In essence, Sounsyy was bleeding for the injured Miqo'te, near a pint of the Captain's lifeforce had been given already. Sounsyy felt unsteadily perched on the headboard. Her head began to ache. But Simin had been first to give, the Thavnairian lay sprawled across the floor, her eyelids flickering in a daze. Fhruhsunn tried to rise from his cot, but he had lost too much strength. All the mute could do was moan painfully, not for his own pain, but for worry of his fellow crew.
Then the door burst clean open, swinging free of all but one of its hinges. A cry of alarm came from Cwaenlona and Sounsyy who had turned quickly to catch sight of the man- if he could still be called that. He looked like one of Siren's thralls! Some long-drowned sailor dredged up from the floor by some song that encouraged his muscles to move long after his mind had passed. He stood in the doorway, dragging some dead Garlean, draining that man's lifeforce into his own as he walked. It was truly horrific to watch, but Sounsyy could not tear her eyes away. Cwaenlona did not dare look, however.
"Forty-three, I need you!" The chirurgeon choked out. "Yer magicks, quickly, she's all but gone."
In response, the Lalafell clamored upon the stool and began his work, setting others to their tasks. Jada moved in Fhruhsunn's stead. Her unsteady gait was that of a drunkard, or of someone whose leg had suddenly taken to sleep. She propped up the body and Cwaenlona moved towards it, craning the soldier's neck. She cringed at the thought of what she was about to be forced to do. The scalpel quivered in her hand. Then she plunged it into the soldier's throat.
The mighty Sahagin father looked upon Ryanti's display impassively. He regarded the Shorewalker with an expression that almost seemed like pity, as if Ryanti was one of his own children, just stepping into the waters of home for the first time. When Ryanti approached, a wave of dissent erupted from the Sahagin. There was a wave of aggravated clicking and bubbling.
Juhh held up a webbed hand to silence his children. There was a sudden pressure in the air. They could all feel it. The Lominsans held their breath, feeling their lungs stinging in their chest. As if even a subtle exhalation would set off a chain reaction. When the moment held for an impossible length of time, Juhh lowered his hand and - to everyone's surprise - replied to Ryanti with a deep bow.
He bent in half at the waist, his legs perfectly straight while the top of his headdress fell to the planks before him. The jellyfish tentacles fell loosely about the deck, splaying out like locks of hair. Juhh's strong arms were lifted out behind him in his bow, forming a tall 'V' as if he was preparing to dive from a tall board. That's what his bow looked like, a diver. When Juhh drew his first long breath, it sounded as if he was drawing upon the aether of the sea. The low grumble of his words were like the crashing of waves upon the shore.
"Pshhhh... Ssshorewalker," he hissed, standing back to his full height slowly, showing off the pure strength of his core muscles. "Ssspilling blood into the ssseasss isssh your kinsss' way. My kind, we beassstsss, we have wept the ssseasss for your peoplesss lossssesss. It isss clear to me, ssshorewalker, you are but a ssspawnling with much ssstill to learn. Do not missstake me... pssshhhh... I have eyesss that sssee kindnessss in your heart. Nobility in your lifeblood. Purpossshe in your veinsss."
Juhh approached Ryanti's kneeling form. His red eyes fixated upon the Allagan key laid before his feet. He lingered there a moment, towering over the suplicated Miqo'te, before he kicked the key aside with a powerful sweep of his foot. The key tumbled across deck, coming to rest several fulms away. Without warning, Juhh bent down and pressed both webbed hands to either side of Ryanti's head and lifted him from his kneeling position upwards.
P'welro gave a startled cry and raised her gun, but a Sahagin came from her side and struck her hard across the face. She crashed to the deck, her musket sliding away from her. The Sahagin held her down against the deck and before the rest of the crew could move into action, the Sahagin took them to the floor by force. A longspear held both Pamido Wolmido and Susuroon down upon their backs. A Sahagin had sprung from the waters and tackled Berasaem to the floor before she could draw. Marjanie was being held down by her own gun. What few still stood made to charge, but Juhh's fearsome red elbst puffed up its chest behind the impressive figure of the Clutchfather and gave a haunting bark into the sky. The Lominsans fell back in fear. This was it. They had survived the Garleans to be dispatched by fishbacks.
Juhh's strong arms lifted Ryanti clear off his feet so that their eyes met level. The Sahagins gils whistled as air rushed through them. "Psshhh... SSSEEKETH TO RESSSHTORE THE DREAMSSS OF A THOUSSSAND DEAD, FIVE THOUSSSHANDSSS YEARSSS BEFORE. YET KNOWETH NOT THISSS SSSAME MISSSSION HASSS FAILED A THOUSSSAND TIMESSS. SSSPAWNLING THINKSSS THISSS THE SSSKYSSSAILORSSS FIRSSST CALL?"
Juhh's words seemed ancient, almost prophetic. His voice boomed with the very rumble of the Sea, but he did not seem angry, nor did he yell. He could've killed Ryanti between his hands if he desired. Thrown him to the sea to see for himself, or worse, crushed the life from him. But he had no such intention. The Sahagin drew a deep breath and slowly lowered the Miqo'te so that his feet once again touched the ground. But he did not yet withdraw his hands.
"You think... pssshhhhh... that we do not know. It isss not for ignorance that we protect the ssskysssailorsss tomb. Once your ancestorsss. Ssshorewalkersss... psshhhh... once sssailed the ssskiesss. But the Heavensss were not enough for the Ssspawnlingsss of Man, no. Thisss cycle of death, of ssshpawnlingsss without clutchfathersss, of pain and war - it beginsss with them! A thousssand thousssand yearsss the ssspawnlingsss of Man have revered thisss cycle! They worssship it. The ssskysssailorsss were no different."
He paused, and Juhh finally released his hold on Ryanti.
"Except thessse here. Ssskysssailorsss who dreamed like ssspawnling dreamsss. Of peace. Of good that could be forged by the ssskysssailorsss craftsss and magicksss. I have eyesss that ssseee... pssshhhh... ssshorewalker. You and they, are not ssso different. ...Psshhh... But you have not ssseen with your eyesss. Dreamsss are only dreamsss. And before you ssseek the Deep, you ssshould know... know the ssskysssailorsss dreamsss were never realized. Thisss isss why we ssshtay. To protect the dreamersss. Go below, ssshpawnling of great and noble heart, but know, you are not the firssst who hasss failed to wake the dreamersss dream."
Juhh's words hung in the air. His deep red eyes watched Ryanti Veanysus as he retreated several steps away until his spined back came to rest against his red elbst. The beast gave a soft noise, hoarse from the length of time it had stayed out of water.
"Ssshorewalkersss are sssafe... psshhh... we will guide you below and watch over your dessshcent. Ssseek the knowledge of your ancessstorsss. Do with it what you will. But do not ssset your heart upon impossssible goalsss. The Cycle of Ssshorewalkersss' grief cannot be broken. Ssseven disssassstersss have done their worsssht, yet the cycle persssissstsss."
Juhh gave a loud series of clicks and gurgles and his Sahagin children released the Roehmerl's crew and slithered back into the Deep. Juhh turned and climbed upon his elbst, which gave a few short cough-like sounds, before plunging over the gunwale into the Deep. Juhh had not given Ryanti another look after his warning. As soon as it all had begun, it was now over. The sea was quiet and still. Flames crackled almost peacefully upon the Ganesha and the Far Eastern wrecks in the Roehmerl's wake.
Was this the cycle of death Juhh had spoken of. Were the races of Man incapable of escaping this cycle. If so, why then, had the Allagans sought them out in their dreams. The Key lay still upon the deck, pulsing gently for all to see.
P'welro clamored to her feet, her cheek raw from where the Sahagin's scaly hand had slapped her soft skin. She held up a hand to stop Ryanti before he could even turn and begin to explain. "Iffin' the Cap'n hid this from us, it's not our place t'know," she said simply. Her short, bloodstained blond hair looked a mess. She broke off her gaze from Ryanti and bent over to retrieve her musket from the ground. She holstered it and looked around at the battered crew.
"Sloane, Swozkhan, Hound search the Garlean ship. Cull it fer anythin' of use. Shortsnout, Pamido Wolmido take stock of our damages. Rest o' yeh lot! Search fer wounded or dead. Those not our own, throw o'erboard."
The crew broke off and set about to their tasks. P'welro seemed strained, hurting, like that near defeat had cost her something dear, even though she appeared unharmed. This was a victory no one was celebrating. Her thoughts kept coming back to Jada and Eighty-five. How she hoped they would be alright. Was this what Jada thought when P'welro had been stricken by grief? One of the main mast's sails had been torn in the fighting and the First Mate moved mechanically to fix it. Her path sent her past Ryanti. She gave him a pitying glance and spoke softly to him, "Go see to yer friend. And... return that 'key' to where it were. If the Cap'n were 'ere, that's what she'd say."
The Captain leaned heavily against the infirmary wall. Her brow was pale and sweaty, her skin cooling after the battle's exhaustion. She had now given nearly two pints of blood to Eighty-five, who was still loosing as much or more of her own. Sounsyy began to shiver as visions of old nightmares began to dance across her glassy eyes. She had almost died many times in her life. Most of the visions she could not remember. Some... some fever dreams she remembered vividly. She wondered what Eighty-five was dreaming right now.
She struggled to lift her head to get a better look at the ongoing operation below her, but her head had become too heavy to manipulate so she settled for looking down the bridge of her nose at the bloody scene below.
Cwaenlona had carefully incised a long section of the sacrificial soldier's jugular vein and was in the process of transplanting it into its new host. The marred and bloody corpse of the Garlean soldier had been left splayed and bleeding on the infirmary floor. Jada had taken to vomiting in a corner, having had to witness the postmortem surgery first hand.
By this time, Simin had recovered enough to pull herself over to Jada and hold her hair back as the Miqo'te vomited bile, her stomach having nothing else to expel.
"Fhruhsunn," Sounsyy heard Cwaenlona's voice say calmly from somewhere in the room - right below her, but Sounsyy had to close her eyes as she was feeling dizzy. "Fhruhsunn, I need you to let Simin help you. I'm doing everything I can for the lass. If I lose her, I don't want you to die too. Please," she said, then lowered her voice to a whisper, "Please don't die on me now child."
Cwaenlona brought her eyes up to look at Eighty-five's pale face before lowering them again to her neck. With steady hands, she guided the cutting of vein over the torn end of Eighty-five's own jugular with a pair of forceps in each hand. Disposing of the left pair of forceps, she took hold of the clamp and released it enough to slide it over where the new vein overlapped the old. Blood ran freely out the vein and began to pool and spill out of the wound in Eighty-five's neck.
"Have to relieve... some of the pressure..." Cwaenlona muttered to herself before re-clamping the two veins together. The Roegadyn moved her forceps down Eighty-five's neck to the bottom of the wound. She carefully brought the two veins together and looked desperately at Forty-three who seemed deeply in concentration.
"Can you use aether to join the vessels together? Stitches, in her condition, are too risky. And I cannot cauterize the veins without causing sclerosis. I know... even saving her life now will be a miracle from Nophica... but I have to hope for how she will potentially live her life after. What quality of life is there for a young girl who would not be able to stand without feeling faint?"
These were the last words Sounsyy heard echo through her ears as the darkness took her. What quality of life is there for a young girl... The words repeated as she grew more distant, falling into the darkness with a muffled splash. Sounsyy felt the cold dark water flood over her skin as she plunged into the Deep below. She opened her eyes and found no difference in the texture of her dreamscape. She was alone, floating in darkness. She could feel bubbles rush past her skin as they raced for the surface of the sea she had just been plunged into.
From the darkness she could just make out the motion of some deep sea monster - some long forgotten serpent of ancient times. Its long, scaly body slithering through the water towards its prey. How long it must have been since its last meal! Sounsyy thought she had had this dream before. It seemed familiar to her? Yes, the serpent had the torso and head of a Hyuran woman. But instead of legs, her form blurred into the serpentine coil which spanned beyond the depth of Sounsyy's vision. There was no screaming in her ears this time, like there had been before. The siren seemed almost at peace, terrifying though she was. A light glowed upon her form, illuminating her Hyuran abdomen and breasts, dancing shadows against her face. Sounsyy looked down and saw a massive vessel, glowing pale blue from the Deep's floor. Was this what they were searching for? Was this always here? All of a sudden, Sounsyy could hold her breath no longer and water filled her mouth.
Sounsyy awoke in one of the infirmary cots. A warm, orange glow colored her sheets and the curtains which hid her from the view of the rest of the infirmary. It was almost evening now. The sun was but a bell's length from descending beneath the horizon and becoming extinguished by the sea. She wondered if it was still the same day as the battle.
With a groan she pulled back the sheets to find herself nude beneath. Clean dressings had been applied to her older wound on her right shoulder and then to the fresh wound at her hip where Cynthia's bullet had grazed. A wave of nausea struck the Captain as she tried to sit upright in the cot. She clamped her eyes shut and held her forehead in her hands. She felt something foreign rubbing against the soft skin of her elbow. She looked down to find a thick bandage wrapped around her arm. The bandage over her severed finger had also been changed, she noticed. All in all, small injuries, nothing she couldn't survive.
This line of thought reminded her of Eighty-five and the Captain threw the sheets aside and scrambled off the bed. Her limbs were weaker than she thought and she collapsed painfully on the wooden floor a fulm below. She rubbed her knee and found her clothes folded to one side of the bed. But before she could reach them, her curtain was drawn back and Cwaenlona stood in the opening. Sounsyy was hardly perturbed - she knew Cwaenlona had seen her breasts before - but a part of her was grateful she still wore underwear over her lower half.
"Good to see you up, Captain," Cwaenlona said hoarsely. Sounsyy pulled on a thin undershirt off the top of the pile so that she was covered before she stood. Fortunately, the shirt fell over her hips low enough to hide her boyshorts from view. Sounsyy looked up at the woman and found the pain in her eyes.
"Status?" Sounsyy asked cautiously, unsure of whether or not she wanted to really hear the answer, "Eighty-five?"
Cwaenlona did not answer, her lips pursing slightly. She pulled aside the Captain's curtain completely and Sounsyy slowly followed the woman into the center of the main room. Of all the medical cots, only a few were empty. Though not all of the curtains were drawn. Fhruhsunn was sitting upright in one across the room, his arm in a sling. He looked weakly at Sounsyy and nodded. Marjanie had a tender hand on his shoulder.
Cwaenlona moved in front of Sounsyy and held out her arm to point at the cot where Eighty-five had laid hours before. Only now the curtain was drawn and there were no sounds from within. Sounsyy approached the curtain, took the linen in her hands, taking a moment to truly feel the texture against her palms, before pulling back the curtain. Within lay the pale form of Eighty-five.
Then the door burst clean open, swinging free of all but one of its hinges. A cry of alarm came from Cwaenlona and Sounsyy who had turned quickly to catch sight of the man- if he could still be called that. He looked like one of Siren's thralls! Some long-drowned sailor dredged up from the floor by some song that encouraged his muscles to move long after his mind had passed. He stood in the doorway, dragging some dead Garlean, draining that man's lifeforce into his own as he walked. It was truly horrific to watch, but Sounsyy could not tear her eyes away. Cwaenlona did not dare look, however.
"Forty-three, I need you!" The chirurgeon choked out. "Yer magicks, quickly, she's all but gone."
In response, the Lalafell clamored upon the stool and began his work, setting others to their tasks. Jada moved in Fhruhsunn's stead. Her unsteady gait was that of a drunkard, or of someone whose leg had suddenly taken to sleep. She propped up the body and Cwaenlona moved towards it, craning the soldier's neck. She cringed at the thought of what she was about to be forced to do. The scalpel quivered in her hand. Then she plunged it into the soldier's throat.
The mighty Sahagin father looked upon Ryanti's display impassively. He regarded the Shorewalker with an expression that almost seemed like pity, as if Ryanti was one of his own children, just stepping into the waters of home for the first time. When Ryanti approached, a wave of dissent erupted from the Sahagin. There was a wave of aggravated clicking and bubbling.
Juhh held up a webbed hand to silence his children. There was a sudden pressure in the air. They could all feel it. The Lominsans held their breath, feeling their lungs stinging in their chest. As if even a subtle exhalation would set off a chain reaction. When the moment held for an impossible length of time, Juhh lowered his hand and - to everyone's surprise - replied to Ryanti with a deep bow.
He bent in half at the waist, his legs perfectly straight while the top of his headdress fell to the planks before him. The jellyfish tentacles fell loosely about the deck, splaying out like locks of hair. Juhh's strong arms were lifted out behind him in his bow, forming a tall 'V' as if he was preparing to dive from a tall board. That's what his bow looked like, a diver. When Juhh drew his first long breath, it sounded as if he was drawing upon the aether of the sea. The low grumble of his words were like the crashing of waves upon the shore.
"Pshhhh... Ssshorewalker," he hissed, standing back to his full height slowly, showing off the pure strength of his core muscles. "Ssspilling blood into the ssseasss isssh your kinsss' way. My kind, we beassstsss, we have wept the ssseasss for your peoplesss lossssesss. It isss clear to me, ssshorewalker, you are but a ssspawnling with much ssstill to learn. Do not missstake me... pssshhhh... I have eyesss that sssee kindnessss in your heart. Nobility in your lifeblood. Purpossshe in your veinsss."
Juhh approached Ryanti's kneeling form. His red eyes fixated upon the Allagan key laid before his feet. He lingered there a moment, towering over the suplicated Miqo'te, before he kicked the key aside with a powerful sweep of his foot. The key tumbled across deck, coming to rest several fulms away. Without warning, Juhh bent down and pressed both webbed hands to either side of Ryanti's head and lifted him from his kneeling position upwards.
P'welro gave a startled cry and raised her gun, but a Sahagin came from her side and struck her hard across the face. She crashed to the deck, her musket sliding away from her. The Sahagin held her down against the deck and before the rest of the crew could move into action, the Sahagin took them to the floor by force. A longspear held both Pamido Wolmido and Susuroon down upon their backs. A Sahagin had sprung from the waters and tackled Berasaem to the floor before she could draw. Marjanie was being held down by her own gun. What few still stood made to charge, but Juhh's fearsome red elbst puffed up its chest behind the impressive figure of the Clutchfather and gave a haunting bark into the sky. The Lominsans fell back in fear. This was it. They had survived the Garleans to be dispatched by fishbacks.
Juhh's strong arms lifted Ryanti clear off his feet so that their eyes met level. The Sahagins gils whistled as air rushed through them. "Psshhh... SSSEEKETH TO RESSSHTORE THE DREAMSSS OF A THOUSSSAND DEAD, FIVE THOUSSSHANDSSS YEARSSS BEFORE. YET KNOWETH NOT THISSS SSSAME MISSSSION HASSS FAILED A THOUSSSAND TIMESSS. SSSPAWNLING THINKSSS THISSS THE SSSKYSSSAILORSSS FIRSSST CALL?"
Juhh's words seemed ancient, almost prophetic. His voice boomed with the very rumble of the Sea, but he did not seem angry, nor did he yell. He could've killed Ryanti between his hands if he desired. Thrown him to the sea to see for himself, or worse, crushed the life from him. But he had no such intention. The Sahagin drew a deep breath and slowly lowered the Miqo'te so that his feet once again touched the ground. But he did not yet withdraw his hands.
"You think... pssshhhhh... that we do not know. It isss not for ignorance that we protect the ssskysssailorsss tomb. Once your ancestorsss. Ssshorewalkersss... psshhhh... once sssailed the ssskiesss. But the Heavensss were not enough for the Ssspawnlingsss of Man, no. Thisss cycle of death, of ssshpawnlingsss without clutchfathersss, of pain and war - it beginsss with them! A thousssand thousssand yearsss the ssspawnlingsss of Man have revered thisss cycle! They worssship it. The ssskysssailorsss were no different."
He paused, and Juhh finally released his hold on Ryanti.
"Except thessse here. Ssskysssailorsss who dreamed like ssspawnling dreamsss. Of peace. Of good that could be forged by the ssskysssailorsss craftsss and magicksss. I have eyesss that ssseee... pssshhhh... ssshorewalker. You and they, are not ssso different. ...Psshhh... But you have not ssseen with your eyesss. Dreamsss are only dreamsss. And before you ssseek the Deep, you ssshould know... know the ssskysssailorsss dreamsss were never realized. Thisss isss why we ssshtay. To protect the dreamersss. Go below, ssshpawnling of great and noble heart, but know, you are not the firssst who hasss failed to wake the dreamersss dream."
Juhh's words hung in the air. His deep red eyes watched Ryanti Veanysus as he retreated several steps away until his spined back came to rest against his red elbst. The beast gave a soft noise, hoarse from the length of time it had stayed out of water.
"Ssshorewalkersss are sssafe... psshhh... we will guide you below and watch over your dessshcent. Ssseek the knowledge of your ancessstorsss. Do with it what you will. But do not ssset your heart upon impossssible goalsss. The Cycle of Ssshorewalkersss' grief cannot be broken. Ssseven disssassstersss have done their worsssht, yet the cycle persssissstsss."
Juhh gave a loud series of clicks and gurgles and his Sahagin children released the Roehmerl's crew and slithered back into the Deep. Juhh turned and climbed upon his elbst, which gave a few short cough-like sounds, before plunging over the gunwale into the Deep. Juhh had not given Ryanti another look after his warning. As soon as it all had begun, it was now over. The sea was quiet and still. Flames crackled almost peacefully upon the Ganesha and the Far Eastern wrecks in the Roehmerl's wake.
Was this the cycle of death Juhh had spoken of. Were the races of Man incapable of escaping this cycle. If so, why then, had the Allagans sought them out in their dreams. The Key lay still upon the deck, pulsing gently for all to see.
P'welro clamored to her feet, her cheek raw from where the Sahagin's scaly hand had slapped her soft skin. She held up a hand to stop Ryanti before he could even turn and begin to explain. "Iffin' the Cap'n hid this from us, it's not our place t'know," she said simply. Her short, bloodstained blond hair looked a mess. She broke off her gaze from Ryanti and bent over to retrieve her musket from the ground. She holstered it and looked around at the battered crew.
"Sloane, Swozkhan, Hound search the Garlean ship. Cull it fer anythin' of use. Shortsnout, Pamido Wolmido take stock of our damages. Rest o' yeh lot! Search fer wounded or dead. Those not our own, throw o'erboard."
The crew broke off and set about to their tasks. P'welro seemed strained, hurting, like that near defeat had cost her something dear, even though she appeared unharmed. This was a victory no one was celebrating. Her thoughts kept coming back to Jada and Eighty-five. How she hoped they would be alright. Was this what Jada thought when P'welro had been stricken by grief? One of the main mast's sails had been torn in the fighting and the First Mate moved mechanically to fix it. Her path sent her past Ryanti. She gave him a pitying glance and spoke softly to him, "Go see to yer friend. And... return that 'key' to where it were. If the Cap'n were 'ere, that's what she'd say."
The Captain leaned heavily against the infirmary wall. Her brow was pale and sweaty, her skin cooling after the battle's exhaustion. She had now given nearly two pints of blood to Eighty-five, who was still loosing as much or more of her own. Sounsyy began to shiver as visions of old nightmares began to dance across her glassy eyes. She had almost died many times in her life. Most of the visions she could not remember. Some... some fever dreams she remembered vividly. She wondered what Eighty-five was dreaming right now.
She struggled to lift her head to get a better look at the ongoing operation below her, but her head had become too heavy to manipulate so she settled for looking down the bridge of her nose at the bloody scene below.
Cwaenlona had carefully incised a long section of the sacrificial soldier's jugular vein and was in the process of transplanting it into its new host. The marred and bloody corpse of the Garlean soldier had been left splayed and bleeding on the infirmary floor. Jada had taken to vomiting in a corner, having had to witness the postmortem surgery first hand.
By this time, Simin had recovered enough to pull herself over to Jada and hold her hair back as the Miqo'te vomited bile, her stomach having nothing else to expel.
"Fhruhsunn," Sounsyy heard Cwaenlona's voice say calmly from somewhere in the room - right below her, but Sounsyy had to close her eyes as she was feeling dizzy. "Fhruhsunn, I need you to let Simin help you. I'm doing everything I can for the lass. If I lose her, I don't want you to die too. Please," she said, then lowered her voice to a whisper, "Please don't die on me now child."
Cwaenlona brought her eyes up to look at Eighty-five's pale face before lowering them again to her neck. With steady hands, she guided the cutting of vein over the torn end of Eighty-five's own jugular with a pair of forceps in each hand. Disposing of the left pair of forceps, she took hold of the clamp and released it enough to slide it over where the new vein overlapped the old. Blood ran freely out the vein and began to pool and spill out of the wound in Eighty-five's neck.
"Have to relieve... some of the pressure..." Cwaenlona muttered to herself before re-clamping the two veins together. The Roegadyn moved her forceps down Eighty-five's neck to the bottom of the wound. She carefully brought the two veins together and looked desperately at Forty-three who seemed deeply in concentration.
"Can you use aether to join the vessels together? Stitches, in her condition, are too risky. And I cannot cauterize the veins without causing sclerosis. I know... even saving her life now will be a miracle from Nophica... but I have to hope for how she will potentially live her life after. What quality of life is there for a young girl who would not be able to stand without feeling faint?"
These were the last words Sounsyy heard echo through her ears as the darkness took her. What quality of life is there for a young girl... The words repeated as she grew more distant, falling into the darkness with a muffled splash. Sounsyy felt the cold dark water flood over her skin as she plunged into the Deep below. She opened her eyes and found no difference in the texture of her dreamscape. She was alone, floating in darkness. She could feel bubbles rush past her skin as they raced for the surface of the sea she had just been plunged into.
From the darkness she could just make out the motion of some deep sea monster - some long forgotten serpent of ancient times. Its long, scaly body slithering through the water towards its prey. How long it must have been since its last meal! Sounsyy thought she had had this dream before. It seemed familiar to her? Yes, the serpent had the torso and head of a Hyuran woman. But instead of legs, her form blurred into the serpentine coil which spanned beyond the depth of Sounsyy's vision. There was no screaming in her ears this time, like there had been before. The siren seemed almost at peace, terrifying though she was. A light glowed upon her form, illuminating her Hyuran abdomen and breasts, dancing shadows against her face. Sounsyy looked down and saw a massive vessel, glowing pale blue from the Deep's floor. Was this what they were searching for? Was this always here? All of a sudden, Sounsyy could hold her breath no longer and water filled her mouth.
Sounsyy awoke in one of the infirmary cots. A warm, orange glow colored her sheets and the curtains which hid her from the view of the rest of the infirmary. It was almost evening now. The sun was but a bell's length from descending beneath the horizon and becoming extinguished by the sea. She wondered if it was still the same day as the battle.
With a groan she pulled back the sheets to find herself nude beneath. Clean dressings had been applied to her older wound on her right shoulder and then to the fresh wound at her hip where Cynthia's bullet had grazed. A wave of nausea struck the Captain as she tried to sit upright in the cot. She clamped her eyes shut and held her forehead in her hands. She felt something foreign rubbing against the soft skin of her elbow. She looked down to find a thick bandage wrapped around her arm. The bandage over her severed finger had also been changed, she noticed. All in all, small injuries, nothing she couldn't survive.
This line of thought reminded her of Eighty-five and the Captain threw the sheets aside and scrambled off the bed. Her limbs were weaker than she thought and she collapsed painfully on the wooden floor a fulm below. She rubbed her knee and found her clothes folded to one side of the bed. But before she could reach them, her curtain was drawn back and Cwaenlona stood in the opening. Sounsyy was hardly perturbed - she knew Cwaenlona had seen her breasts before - but a part of her was grateful she still wore underwear over her lower half.
"Good to see you up, Captain," Cwaenlona said hoarsely. Sounsyy pulled on a thin undershirt off the top of the pile so that she was covered before she stood. Fortunately, the shirt fell over her hips low enough to hide her boyshorts from view. Sounsyy looked up at the woman and found the pain in her eyes.
"Status?" Sounsyy asked cautiously, unsure of whether or not she wanted to really hear the answer, "Eighty-five?"
Cwaenlona did not answer, her lips pursing slightly. She pulled aside the Captain's curtain completely and Sounsyy slowly followed the woman into the center of the main room. Of all the medical cots, only a few were empty. Though not all of the curtains were drawn. Fhruhsunn was sitting upright in one across the room, his arm in a sling. He looked weakly at Sounsyy and nodded. Marjanie had a tender hand on his shoulder.
Cwaenlona moved in front of Sounsyy and held out her arm to point at the cot where Eighty-five had laid hours before. Only now the curtain was drawn and there were no sounds from within. Sounsyy approached the curtain, took the linen in her hands, taking a moment to truly feel the texture against her palms, before pulling back the curtain. Within lay the pale form of Eighty-five.