Weakness

"I ain't going nowhere!"

"Oh yes, you are!"

"No I ain't!"

"Yes you are!"

"You can't throw me away like that!"

"I'm not throwing you away...I'm trying to protect you!"

"I don't need to be protected..."

"...look at you!" ( dragging her to the cracked mirror, which hangs on the wall, as she put up a fight and tries to wrestle free her arm)." I said look at you! You're a bloody mess!"

"I'm fine. I'm not leaving. This is my home!"

" This is what you call fine? How many broken bones this time, huh? I lost count of the times I had to patch you up. You need to go away, at least for a while. Change your mind frame..! (exasperation)

"Look who's talking!"

"It's a quiet place. You'll like it! You'll feel much better afterwards..."

" I'm not sick and I ain't leaving nowhere!"

Laandra sighed, taking her head into her palms and massaging her temples. Light, her head ached... From the other room, the sounds had reached unbearable levels.

They had been fighting for nearly three hours now, and she wondered how they still had energy to do it. It went through the crying phase, as Daria sobbed and murmured almost incoherent words in the beginning, then to the utter amazement stage, when Eireannan had told her it would be a good idea to leave the Plaguelands for a while and then it had settled into sheer arguing. More precisely, Laandra corrected herself, screaming at each other, with what was probably short breathing pauses in between.

It was the least thing she would have expected from Eireannan, she thought, stretching her long limbs as she rolled on the improvised bed, keeping an ear to all sounds that came from outside. The place was another one of their deserted shelters, near the edge of Ghostlands, but he Scarlet Crusade had found them once and it was very probable they could do so again.

...what was she thinking? Yeah, something she wouldn't have expected from Eireannan, with his usually quiet mood, keeping himself to himself and sharing very little, even with her.

But he seemed perfectly at home yelling at Daria for more than two hours now and judging after their voices, they were both still far from being exhausted.

"...if only I could trust you that you wouldn't EVER do something like this again...Oh, but I can't...the moment you'll have the opportunity you'll rush to find another one to tear you to shreds..."

"It's my life. At least what's left of it..."

"But it is me the one that has to cope with the the bloodied mess..."

"Then don't do it anymore, she screamed,in frustration this time. Just let -me-die for once. Leave me alone!"

"I can't."

His words, breaking into a whisper, as Laandra could make out muffled sounds of movement; taking her into his arms, maybe.

" How many times do I have to say...that I care for you?"

----

And she's trembling, again the little girl she used to be, as her fingers dig into the dirt and the debris that now covers her mother. She withdraws them red with blood. So much blood, everywhere, that she dares not look...not anymore...and there are those sounds....the horrible creatures...the fouls smell...the cries...and the silence...

Why did she run? She should be dead. She should be dead like they are...she only breathes because she is a coward and ran away from the house, way from the screams, until her feet gave up under her own weight...

She should be dead.

"There's no one left alive", one of the men says, his face betraying utter exhaustion and pain as he bends down to pick the remnants of a ragged doll, then drops it and almost smashes his fist against the wooden wall of the barn.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!"


There's another voice.

"A child."

"Let me."

This one is soft, almost caring, and, through the tears that blind her, Daria can see him reaching out to lift her from the wreckage. She doesn't know what to do with her hands covered in blood and mud, so she keeps them clutched in front of her, afraid to touch.

" What kind of Light allows this sort of things to happen?" she hears the first man say, as he hits again the wooden wall, in anger."

She should be dead, like them all, she knows it well. Yet, turning her face a little, she meets the gaze that lingers worried over her face, trying to assess the damage that's been done to her body and mind alike. The green eyes. Then everything fades and she collapses into darkness.



----

The place is clean, a small scent of flowers coming through the open window.

It's the fragrance and the light she remembers, as the sun ray glitters over the floor, extending from the window to reach her.

"She's gone, Eriean, let her be!"

The voice of the woman sounds slightly annoyed, even if melodic and clear. But the hand that caresses her tangled strands of hair does not withdraw. Daria listens intently, as the other voice answers, that deep, soft tone she's grown used to.

"She'll come back, Nin. She just has to decide when..."

"Poor child...after all she's seen..."

"She'll be fine!" he snaps, then returns to Daria, as she lays down, her head in his lap, his fingers still gently stroking her dark brown hair.

----

"...I cannot..."

Laandra peers through the half-open door, to see Daria cry again, this time quietly, almost without sobs. Eireannan holds her tightly and she keeps crying. The screaming has given way to whispering and Laandra cannot hear anything anymore...it's just Daria finally uttering, in a broken, tired tone...

"I'll go..."

----

As Prophet Velen says, every step we take makes us closer to our goal, even if we are going backwards. “Not all those who wander are lost”…

Though, it certainly seems so, sometimes…