Stone

Gendelfa applied pressure to the gash across her side. How could such a horribly made knife pierce through her armor? She hissed Techlis’ name out of anger that such an inferior creature could do such a thing and that her journey had to end here.

Her once pure white chest plate was ripped off and discarded, its Atherquartz having been extracted and held in Gendelfa’s hand. But now both she and the chest plate were stained red. Beside it was a similarly bloodied hammer, the gorgeous lavender color stained by proof of battle.

Countless goblins and spiders lay strewn across the ground, each surrounded and covering the dead bodies of the men and women she had led. Sentinels, Wardens, and even a Loreseeker lay dead. While she still breathed painfully. Once again, she hissed Techlis’ name as if she were trying to turn his gaze away from such a failure. If she hadn’t led them into this ambush, they might still be breathing, making the realms a better place.

She figured it fitting that her death would be the slowest; she would see what her mistake cost the others. At the very least, she would become one with the realms. She took a shaky breath; it did not matter how much she had prepared for this moment; the idea of letting go in the face of certain death shook her to the core. With being buried under mountains of stone, she knew that Hysh would protect her; the realm would provide. But now, in the face of certain death, she felt shaken. She didn’t want to remove her hand, even if she knew it was right.

She rolled her head to the side, looking at her fallen Vanari, wishing to see her failure one last time in hopes of making letting go easier. Instead, she found a figure cloaked in shadow, crouched down and picking through the pouch of the Loreseeker. A feeling welled up inside her chest; it wasn’t anger or desperation. Of all the things Gendelfa thought she needed to learn, the last thing she thought she would ever need was to sort out the cocktail of emotions she felt now. That storm of emotions came out in a sputtering cry at the figure.

She thought the figure would run, thinking they were caught or ignore her, knowing she was so close to death. But she did not expect them to look at her. She knew the shadows had hidden someone, but to have eyes reflecting the most minor flickers of light from the moon Gnorl, poking through the canopy. A flash of red and gold came next.

Gendelfa cursed again, keeping her hand on the wound to keep blood from flowing; she did her best to reach the hammer she had so carelessly cast aside. She could hear footsteps now, and they were quick. A grot probably stayed behind to pick at the corpses after she had routed off the last of them. If she was going to die, she wanted to do it as Techlis deemed it. She would not have her fate be changed by pure chance. Techlis damn that-

A hand grabbed her shoulder; she swung her fist, which was reaching for her weapon just moments ago. Rather than connecting with a crooked nose or wart-covered face, it was caught in a grip by a slim but calloused finger that moved it downward toward the ground in a calm motion.

“Be calm, no harm meant.”

Gendelfa looked back at what she thought was a Grot, but now they were in the light; she could not tell if them being a Khanite was better or worse. The woman before her was unlike many Khanites she had met before. Where many sneered and snarled, this one looked into her eyes without the slightest hint of emotion. It was like looking into the eyes of a statue. Upon her forehead was the most beautiful crown she had ever witnessed, five crescent moons aiming towards the skies in brilliant gold. A gem as crimson as blood was placed right at her temple, where four thin golden chains hung beneath her hazel eyes. Her clothes were as minimal as many of her culture were. Small golden chest plates covered her chest, and a body suit made of what seemed to be silk, but it did not flow but instead clung to her muscled form as if its life depended on it. Then there was her hair, a mass of maroon cascading down all along her back and sides until it met her hips.

“What?” Such a simple and hardly dignified question was all Gendelfa could come up with. But the Khanite didn’t respond to that, rather choosing to dig around in a satchel at her waist. Within moments she had produced bandages, herbs, and a vial of- something.

Before she could raise any more protest, the Khanite stuffed the herbs in her mouth and drank what was in the vial. Only a moment later, she was chewing and spat out a wet pile of green on her hand that looked like melting lake moss.

“What in Techlis’ name are you doing?!” Gendelfa asked indignantly. Holding a hand up to try and keep distance from the other woman. However, as she raised her arm, pain shook her, causing a hiss and her strength to falter just enough for the Khanite to apply the poultice.

“Grot knife, they like to, dip in poop. Probably infected, should fix. Dull pain too…….tongue is numb.”

Just as she said, where pain once flared with each movement, there was now the numb feeling of pins and needles. For the first time in the last half hour, she could breathe easy, without fearing the horrid pain that came from the small movements.

It wasn’t long until her strange savior wrapped the bandages around her torso to cover the wound. The woman hadn’t spoken a word after the explanation of the herbs. Upon completing the task, the Khanite stayed there, knelt beside Gendelfa for enough time for it to become awkward.

Gendelfa cleared her throat. “What is your name? I must kn-“ she paused, realizing just how she first saw the Khanite. “And what in the luminous twins’ name were you doing poking around the corpses?”

The Khanite’s face broke from the statue-like expression of calm, turning into one of suppressed shame. Pinching her lips together and standing back up to her full height. “Lack money, was- hoping find some. But it- was not- best decision.” There was a long pause “I would- leave. But do not, know if you, make it back, to your base.”

Gendelfa opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. What in the eight realms was this woman up to? No Khanite does things like this unless it is to get something. She had to deal with a coven on more than one occasion, and not one showed a hint of compassion. So only Techlis knew what this one was doing; she doubted that even the way she spoke was genuine. This one spoke like a stupid human. But then again- she did save her life. But then what of becoming one with the realms? “I still need your name.”

“Mandragora.” “A last name? Maybe a coven title? To know who to thank?” “No, just Mandragora.” “Alright, now what do you want? No one provides aid, much less worrying about one’s health after, without wanting something.” “……” silence, great. “You obviously want something.” “May I- search for food, in saddle bags?” “That’s all?” “Am without money, having food means less, need be spent…when do find money.”

Gendelfa sighed. “Fine, go ahead. But please bring me any Aetherquartz you find.” She picked up the small amount she had dropped during the scramble for her hammer.

“I- ok. I will, try to, find some. Valuable yes?” “Yes, it very much is.”

Mandragora spoke no more, turning on her heels to move over to the fallen Vanari knights, unceremoniously pushing the dead rider off of the corpse of the Lightcourser. Gendelfa winced at such disrespect. Choosing to clench the small bit of Aetherquartz tightly to her chest.

“Techlis, what is it that you have planned for me? Why have you brought such a strange person to me? But- I thank you. For not letting me die yet.” Mandragora turned her head, a small sack in her hand “What?” “Nothing, a prayer and a question.” “Ah-“ what seemed to be out of habit, she rubbed at her golden arm guard. “May Khaine, Techlis, and Tyrion, look over you.” “You worship the twins?” “No- just- trying be polite.” “Go back to looting the corpses of my soldiers please” “Ok”