Snow Burial

[Tea]

[continued from here]


Tea felt like she was walking through mud. She heaved one foot forward. The goo clawed up at her pants, wrapping its impossibly long fingers around her legs and tightening like cursed vines. They were moist against her limbs. She glanced down and trembled.

The mud bubbled up into a face, white hair wisping around a woman's pale sunken head. The skeletal jaws snapped their teeth together as lips and a tongue quickly oozed into place. The tongue whipped about like a serpent's tail, slipping out of the foaming puss-filled mouth on occasion. The tongue flicked again as the figure climbed higher, reaching her claws into Tea's joints, grappling up with her knee, thigh, waist, and shoulders as it yanked itself along until the swampy beast was merely inches away from her face.

The cold sludge dripped down onto Tea's naked shoulders and throat, making her shiver. The muddy tendrils wrapped around her neck like a child wanting to be picked up. As though possessed, she wrapped her arms gently under the cold creature's shoulders, holding it into place.

Tea gazed down into its obtuse eyes. The corneas had been long misted over with white film.

"Avarielle................. Come join me, won't you, Avarielle?"

Its mouth was perfect now... Eerily smooth and wrinkle-free like doll's. Gray flooded into them, softly contrasting the mouth with its white face. Its serpentine tongue slipped through the exit momentarily, a flash of warning for what was to come. A trail of slime slipped from the hairline over one sightless eye, glimmering as it drooped down to the creature's thin neck.

It's voice was beautiful. Nostalgic.

"Join me," it asked quietly, slushing closer to the shivering maiden's face, "won't you... Avarielle...?"

Ice brushed against her mouth as if to kiss her.

Tea gasped, shaking uncontrollably as her eyes popped open. Her petrified orbs raced across the trees and snow and the small fire she'd started before.

There was nothing here. There was nothing here. It was okay.

She sighed, wrapping her cloak more tightly around her shoulders as she hopped to her feet. Her heart was racing (from the nightmare?), but she no longer felt like her blood was lava. That was good, right? She brushed her half-frozen hair away from her face. The long strands clung to her cloak.

She stepped forward quietly, listening as the snow crunched under her dark boots. Where was Ialarin? They planned to only take a short break after escaping, but she'd fallen asleep. How long had she slept?

She sipped some of the hot water from a pot over the dwindling flames, savoring the feeling as it raced down her parched throat. She drank quite a lot of that earlier, hadn't she? Was her body trying to turn her into a fish or something?

Tea groggily walked over to her bag, pulling out a pair of dark gray gloves and sliding them onto her fingers.

Oddly enough, she couldn't remember what they were running from. Perhaps it had something to do with that all-too-recognizable specter in her dream? She slowed down her quick breaths. It had been awhile since she'd had such vivid nightmares... It was probably from her fever. After all, the woman in the dream had been dead for six years now. It was only a dream. Only.

Tea paced back to the fire, staring at it dazedly.

Why did she want to be cured again?

The young woman shook away her wobbling, twitching thoughts. She couldn't think clearly at all today, could she? She suppressed her odd shaking completely.

Where was Ialarin?

[Chuck]

Beastly eyes watched from the trees not too far from where the sickly girl and her fire where. The air coming down from the mountain, revealed the the disease tainted breath, and sweat. He movements showed weakness. Her body shivered with cold and her skin seemed to be burning up. The eyes among the trees vanished and out strode a man clothed in heavy hide, and fur clothing.

He quickly made his way up a short cliff to the spot were Tea was. He walked towards the miniature camp site and fished into one of the leather pouches that hung from his belt. And pulled out a small handful of some kind of plant root. The man wasn't one for manners. he saw the woman stop shivering, which was a seriously bad sign. He pulled his fur, cloak from his back, and before she could turn around, placed it over her shoulders.

Without asking, without saying a word he took a simple knife from his boot and split the root that he still held in his hand and dropped the root into the hot water. It was obvious the man wasn't one for manners. He sat down next to the fire pit. and grabbed a stick that hadn't quite burned all that much and used it to stoke the embers. He also grabbed some near by tinder and added it to the smoldering mix and the flame soon came back to life.

"The name is Charles, this tea will help clear your head." He said simply. Unsure of what else to say.

[Tea]

Something heavy weighed down on Tea's shoulders, dragging her toward the ground. It was furry. Soft? It engulfed her cloak, grasping it and clutching it and feeling it. It rolled its tongue over the fabric, chewing it and swallowing it bit by bit, and licking its fingers clean. It was a tomb and burial shroud. Heavy. Suffocating.

Only... Tea blinked, forcing her mind back to reality. It was only a cloak in addition to her own. She wasn't falling in the slightest. She was standing.

Snow thumped off a nearby pine, mixing its own white wig with the snow rug at its roots.

Her spidery fingers reached up to touch the additional cloak. The tufts of fur stood out as jagged blades next to her pale flesh. Her long eyelashes met once, slowly, then separated.

Something was there.

Her eyes rotated to the figure. He was much older than her, with a tangled ponytail racing down his back. What color was it? She couldn't tell. In her eyes, all colors were the same. He looked strong. Armed? A cane was at his side. Did he walk so loudly he needed a cane to move? She blinked slowly. She couldn't think. Was she an insect in a sea of gelatin?

Tea shook her head, feeling the tendrils of her long hair brush against her throat as she forced her thoughts clear once more.

Tea? Tea for Tea? Charles... Was that his name?

Who was he? Why was he here? Was he here before? Why couldn't she--

Enough, she scolded herself, silencing the questions she couldn't even understand enough to answer. Good gods... This was why she wanted treatment. This weakness was like a growing weed inside of her--it clawed up her arms, stretching and reaching under her skin and sucking it free of nutrients.

Wait... Was she silent? Was he talking to her? This Charles person.

The flames burned passionately within the pit, glittering energetically even though they were fated to soon die. The icy surroundings pet them so very softly as if cooing to a babe.

Just what was he doing here? Where was Ialarin? Did it matter? Tea pushed her plush lips together, using the sensation to force her attention.

"Why are you here?" Her voice was soft. Scratchy?

Pale slashes marred the man's tan skin like the stripes of a tabby cat. His face. His fingers. Was he a swordsman?

[Chuck]

His thick cloak would be far warmer than hers. His was made specifically for this weather. It was even greased with animal fat to keep it water proof. Chuck was strong however, and could handle the cold. not to mention he wasn't wearing a good amount of hide, and was kept warm enough anyway.

He heard Tea speak, but did not answer her right away. he found it pointless to explain anything when the girls mind was so clouded.

He took his stoking stick, flipped it and used it to stir the pot of boiling roots. He spent a few moments while the root tea boiled, wittling a chunk of wood into a bowl. He then dipped the bowl into the boiling water and handed the bowl to her. "Here, drink." He said. The tea was bitter, but would clear her mind a little. The fumes alone would help clear her swollen sinuses.

Assuming she drank from the bowl he explained. "I saw a sick young woman sitting in the mountains alone. I couldn't in good conscience ignore the situation." The wind blew cold, picking up the snow and whipping it around them. "What may I ask are you doing in the mountains with such poor health?"

[Tea]

Silence. Then, tea for Tea.

Fumes--spicy?--swam up to her nostrils. Her hands automatically reached out to accept the bowl.

What was she supposed to do? He seemed to be waiting. Charles.

Her eyes flickered down to the solution. It wasn't like he needed to drug or poison her to subdue her in this condition, was it? No. She was easy pickings. Thus, Ialarin. Where was Ialarin? Perhaps this Charles was nice? Did it matter? Did she have the strength to resist?

She couldn't think.

She sipped the hot (really, really hot--her taste buds weren't quite that displaced) drink and then removed it and kept it from her singing tongue. Gods. Wasn't that stuff boiling not a minute ago?

Feeling quite a bit more aware than she had been before promptly burning her mouth, she gazed down at the angry hissing waters. The bowl was warm in her hands, but it wasn't hot enough to burn her. Winter's cold sheltered her. Just a tad, slipping its icy fingers into all the right places.

Something. A sick woman in the woods. Poor health.

Weakling.

Her.

Where was Ialarin?

The tea was hot. Focus, focus... This guy didn't appear to mean harm. Did it matter? Her violet eyes flickered up from the steaming bowl. A normal person would've mugged her by now. He just tried to feed her boiling tea. Boiling tea. Was clarity returning to her mind?

"I was heading to Avaren," she answered slowly, her voice drifting off at the last bit. Medical treatment. She needed medical treatment. Her lips and tongue refused to speak.

Tea gazed somberly down at the tea. Silence was good. Silence.

[Chuck]

Maybe he could have put some snow into the tea to cool it off a bit, however Charles saw no real need the heat would do her good. And it wouldn't kill her. And what didn't kill you only made you stronger. and it seemed she could use a little strength.

As he listened to her speak. He made a few more observations. There was an extra pair of tracks in the snow and there was a lingering scent that was neither hers nor his. So, she hadn't been traveling alone. "So, where did your friend go? He can't have gone too far his tracks have yet to be buried in the drifting snow." He said gesturing at the depressions in the snow.

He took note of what he said and thought it seemed a bit of a detour to get to averen through the mountains, when there were a few good trails through the woods. May not have been safer, but there where more camping materials and the roof of trees kept the snow and wind at bay. Well he guessed he wasn't one to judge.

[Tea]

Her friend? Ialarin? Her employee?

Tea's violet eyes glazed over for a moment, sinking within the depths of her sweltering cob-webbed mind. The tea was cooler now. Cool enough? She tenderly lifted the bowl to her thick lips, sipping it gingerly. Ialarin...

Her thoughts slipped back into oblivion, drowning in the turbid memories. Heat. Cold. Fire. Ice. They fled. Her feet crunched into the snow. Her hand reached for her blade. Running. Being dragged. White. Black. Everything was blank. Was it even the same day? She left that last town in the morning. It was now late afternoon. There was... the ruins? Was that where they met up? Or was it... She couldn't remember.

Everything from earlier was blank and foggy, like an illogical maze of trees.

Was Tea... in a labyrinth?

Trees curled toward her, clawing at the edges of her sight. Snow clutched at her boots, heaving itself upward and clawing at her pants. The wind yanked at her flaming hair, wrapping the threads around its fist and swinging her head toward the ground. No, nothing was moving. She blinked, snapping out of her trance. Her pale skin blistered from the inside. Hot again.

"I don't," she muttered softly, Tea's voice more pathetic than she could ever forgive, "remember."

The tea was warm.

[Chuck]

He thought a moment. He looked over at Tea. She seriously needed help. Exactly how long was her escort going to take. Chuck didn't want to just leave her here. and it seemed her friend had vanished. The tea was only a temporary fix. The tea would last for the day, maybe but she would run out and it wouldn't take long for her health to get even worse. He could probably nurse her to health himself. All he needed was a cave and a fire. But he seriously didn't want to waste any more time, plus if he didn't eat her on the full moon first, he just might get himself sick. So him providing extended care wasn't an option.

He looked at her, and saw how sunken her features where. the exhaustion in here eyes. She seemed to struggle even to speak. She was easy prey. He then looked at the tracks. Who ever this person was that was suppose to be helping her was no where to be seen. He thought of the amount of time he had already been with this sickly girl. He could have ripped her a part eaten her, and covered his tracks by now. Great protector whoever he/she was. It actually pissed him off a little. A man had been charged with escorting this sick woman to Avaren in one piece. and he was off doing gods know what. while his 'client' was sitting alone, sick and defenseless in the snow of the mountains.

"If you don't mind me saying, I think it would better if you got into town sooner than later." He said. "Your escort is gone, and i don't know what the hell he's doing but one thing he shouldn't be doing is leaving you in the snow alone to fend for yourself when you're sick like this." He said with a little anger being revealed in his voice. "How about you let me take you the rest of the way to Avaren?" He asked.

[Tea]

Ialarin... Where was he? He hadn't been paid yet; this, Tea knew. It wasn't because she remembered it, per se, but more because she knew herself. Her money could not be stolen, as she'd tucked some of it in that nasty old book in her bag. Ialarin would be paid at the end of his task and not before. If she died, after all, then he failed his mission.

That was the verdict.

"No," replied the sickly warrior after a thoughtful moment. Firm. Soft? Scratchy. "I'll wait for him."

That sage had no right to judge her, did he? Technically speaking, she supposed, her whirling thoughts twisting into some discernible pattern, he could just bonk me on the head and kidnap me, couldn't he?

Just because she was sick didn't mean she was entirely defenseless in a fight, did it? Movements without strength had seemed to become her specialty lately.

As the fog, gray-white, clutched at the rims of her sight, her opinion changed. Slightly.

She brought the tea, warm, to her plump lips and drank it heartily, pausing only to breathe every ten seconds or so. She was feeling a little bit better, so long as that fog stayed back away from her eyes. There was already enough darkness in the shadows and glitter on the ice... What more decoration might this scene need?

"Thank you for the tea," said Tea calmly, serious. Clear?

She handed his bowl back, mutely rubbing her temple. What was he here for? Had she already asked that question? Probably.