Kakael: Dark Nights/Chapter I

*Previous Chapter: Prologue*

When the figure, lying spread eagled on the beach with one hand still tied to half a crate nearby, awoke, the figure hurt. The figure hurt in several ways. There was an aching pain all over his body and several more on various body parts. There was a stabbing pain in his back and a spinning, nauseating pain in his head. Eithron gave out a pained groan, and spat. His throat was dry from the salt water, and he stomach was empty due to his vomiting bout. He groaned again, and tried to roll over. His body shuddered with effort, the pain caused him to yell, and his bound hand caused him to stop halfway through his roll, teeter for a moment as the rope went taunt, then roll painfully back.

After a couple of minutes curse break, Eithron tried to sit up. The rope was still holding his arm, so he shuffled closer to it, and leaned against the crates remains. Then he looked up, saw nothing, wiped the crusted salt from his lids, and looked again. It took him a few moments to realise that the sand bank he lay on was not an island; there was, in fact, a small strip connecting the peninsula to a far large island.  To his left, the sun shone brightly over the sea, almost blinding him when he looked up. Surrounding him on the sand were various piece of wood, broken planks and half crates. The crate he was still attached to had fallen open and was now empty. Several bodies also littered the beach and in the distance several small groups picked their way across the beach, occasionally stopping to stoop down.

The island he was on was dominated by a large mountain. At the base of it, across the small section of sea separating the peninsula, was a small town, mostly constructed of log houses and surrounded by farm fields. A couple of boats had crossed from it and a couple more groups had disembarked to search the shipwreck. The mountain was topped with snow on the area facing away from him and half way up the mountain was a line of jungle.

There was a shout and Eith turned to quickly to look; his head began to spin and he felt himself want to vomit again. His vision blurred and all parts of his body began to sting again. Several men and women began to run to him.

"Ca-an I ha-e som-" Eith coughed, the words painfully vibrating from his parched throat in Cossite, "ugh, some wah-ter?" He couldn't tell who was approaching him, but he knew it was better than lying here. He tugged at the rope, trying to indicate that he had become stuck. Looking into the blue sky hurt his eyes, so he hung his head as if in shame, blinking slowly at the various pairs of feet in front of him.

"*Water. He wants water. Somebody get the man some water, quickly,*" snapped a woman's voice, speaking an odd dialect of Common Eastern. There was some movement and then a young woman of around twenty, with fair skin and sandy brown hair, knelt down in front of Eith. She put one arm around his back, supporting him, and with the other arm lifted a water flask to his mouth, slowly tilting it into his mouth. The water was cool and fresh and Eith drunk it gratefully. Kneeling by him in the sand, the women spoke in extremely broken Cossut, pronouncing the words strangely and with a strong Eastern accent, "Your name is, frient? I called Tel-Niv."

Behind her the others whispered and muttered to each other in the same odd dialect of Al-harid the woman had, but Eith could not make the effort to understand their words.

Speaking this time in Al-Harid, Eith tried to say "Thank you. My name is Eiter Broken. Where are we?" but forgot how to say Thank you, instead saying "You are good." He once again pulled at his arm, but stopped as the pain was too much. "I am stuck. Can you stuck not me?"

The woman, Tel-Niv, smiled when he spoke the Eastern tongue, but replied in Cossut as she untied and freed his hand. "You stay on Kakael. An islant. Lie now, please."

Eith vaguely thought of a joke, lying about the shipwreck, as he lay his head back on the sand, but couldn't force the words through his mouth. He tried to smile, but his lips, still dry, barely curled, giving him a bizarre smirk. "Island.....wh-where? Are we in Deo..Deosu? Uhh..or Juli?" Eith rubbed life back into his wrist, and shuffled uncomfortably, as there was a pebble digging into the small of his back.

"Nowhere. No, no, neiter. Menyr is more near, but is too far," she replied, before trailing off. She suddenly snapped at the others behind her, "*Urten, find a**- ,**"*here was a word Eithron couldn't understand, *" - quickly. You two, stay with me. The rest of you, keep checking everywhere else."* She went quiet once more as the others wander off, some repeatedly pausing to look back. "Kakael is alone. There isn't any ship here. No ship was coming here. We are thinking that we are unknown. Forgottent."

*Why did this have to happen to me? Mama was right. I should have left the open sea to the sailors and kept to my open plains. I could have just snuck out the window, jumped on Meiron and raced through the gates.*

*"*Oh spirits. This wasn't supposed to happen." Eithron took a few moments to breath deeply, slowly, trying to clear his aching head. The sky was still too much to look at, so he rolled his head to the side and looked at Tel-Niv. "Uh...Menyr. Are you from Menyr? That is east, right?"

"I have not been to Menyr myself. The first were from Menyr, yes," answered the woman, who, now Eithron looked at her, seemed to have far more Cossut features than any of the others. Tel-Niv got up as she continued, "Menyr is in the east, indeed. You should rest. It cannot be changed." She looked down at her feet and quietly murmured, "I am sorry that this has happened to you."

"Urgh... Thank you." Eithron shuffled his feet into the sand, feeling the warmth properly. Then he felt sun on his face. It was uncomfortable, so he held on of his arms above him as he continued. "Was there...anyone else from my ship? A man wearing fancy clothes? Men with guns?"

"We have found many dead. I a- We-," muttered Tel-Niv, "Only one alive, but not well. He is - what is it? Not sleeping, but like it. He does not look well. I am sorry, but he will more likely die."

Tel-Niv looked away, before adding, "We have not found all yet, so hope is."

"Ah...OK."

Eithron did not particularly care for the crew of the ship, but they might have known something about where they were. However, that sketchy nobleman had saved his life, or at least helped him stay alive. And he seemed to know a lot about what was going on, even before it happened. Certainly an interesting character.

"Well, I am glad you found me. But uh, can we move under some shelter. This sun is much...heavier than where I am from. Speaking of which, are you a Cossite?"

After quickly calling over two other men, she smiled. "My mother was. She - we lift you now, OK? - tried to teach me the language. I wish I could have seen it. It sounds beautiful." As she spoke, she and the two men lifted the Cossite onto a stretcher. "We are going to use a boat. So you can move to Danohst. The town. Is that good?"

"Uh...sure. That's good. The snow lands are beautiful indeed. Maybe if we get off this...whatever it is - ," he paused to cough horribly before continuing, " - I can take you there."

Eith tried to make the carry as easy possible for the men, pushing himself onto the stretched fibre, and shifting his weight to match the rhythm of the walking men.

The woman did not reply, but kept walking as the men picked Eith up and carried him. She did not reply for a while, before then saying, "You could sleep. Rest will help heal you. Until we can find healers in Danohst. Sleep, please."

Eith gave a sigh, and lay his head back, his eyes shut, but still too bright. The pain was still too acute as well, so he didn't manage to sleep, but the slow and gentle rocking of the stretcher and the men carrying him helped him to rest. After a time, they stopped and Eithron was placed on the ground. The sound of waves lapping against the shore was audible in the background. The woman knelt by him once more.

"Was any other Cossite on the ship? Can any not speak Al-harid well?"

"Uh, well." Eithron looked around as he answered, "I didn't really know anyone on the ship that well. Most of the sailors were from the Sultanate so I guess they would be able to speak east. The others, I am not sure, but some of them looked Cossite. Why do you ask?"

"Little here speak Cossite. My talking may be useful, but else I will stay with you," said Tel-Niv, fumbling the foreign language slightly as she held a boat steady for the others.

"Ok, that is fine with me." Eithron gripped the edge of the stretcher, steadying himself as he was lowered into the boat. "What about the one in a coma? Is he coming with us?"

He had been carried to the shore nearest the city and now looked over the small inlet to the city. There was a large but fairly empty harbour stretching onto the sea. Behind it, the city climbed up the base of the mountain, small log houses surrounded by fields of wheat and sheep. He was sitting in a small rowboat, just large enough to make the trip to and from the city and several other boats had been dragged to the sand around him.

"A coma? What is a coma?" asked Tel-Niv.

"You said there was another survivor, but he was asleep and would not wake. I think he must be in a coma," Eithron replied, tapping his hand against the wood of the boat absent-mindedly, "but I'm no healer."

"Perhaps, but I do not think that coma is correct. The Eastern word is *estre-thiramos*. I do not know if you know it."

It was not a word Eithron had heard much, but from the context he managed to remember it meant unconscious.

Tel-Niv paused to look out across the sands for a moment, stopped between leaving to look through the beaches and getting on the boat with Eithron and the others. Eith opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped and closed it again.  His hand ceased tapping as well.

"I think that - that no others l- awake have been found. We can go. I do not think I will be needed," she said, climbing into the boat with the two men and Eithron. "I will simply check for any injuries. Can I?"

The two men started to row and the boat began to make its way out through the inlet, being pushed around by the waves.

Eithron, briefly forgetting that he had just been in a shipwreck, tried to get up to make room for Tel-Niv, "If tha- ow!" He sank back down again, and groaned in pain. "Go ahe-ugh, ahead. It seems that I wont be able to walk this one off."

"Tell me if anything I do hurts," said Tel-Niv as she pressed two fingers to his neck. She mumbled something to herself afterwards. Eithron gave sharp intake of breath when her fingers touched his pale neck, but it was more shock than pain.

"Uh...no, maybe a little? I think that was just your fingernails."

"I'm sorry," she said, shifting her hand slightly to a different position. "Try to rest and not speak anything for a small time," she asked, tucking a stand of her light brown hair behind her ear with one hand as she kept the other on his neck.

"Uh..." Eith lay there silently. He didn't feel anything much. But he did want to itch his nose.

After a short period, around half a minute, Tel-Niv mumbled a "Thank you," as she took her hand away, moving it to his abdomen. "This can ache a bit," she warned him, before pushing down slightly.

Eithron gave a yelp of pain, and spat a small trail of red-stained saliva into the bay. "Perd! That hurts! Ughhh!" Eith clamped his hand around Tel-Niv's wrist, and held it away from his body. "Ugh, sorry!" he cried, releasing it and clutching his chest.

"Oh! Sorry!" winced Tel-Niv, pulling her hand away. The two men held themselves steady as the boat rocked worryingly. As the rocking calmed down, Tel-Niv began to support Eith's back. "I'm needing to check if there is injuries there," she told him as she began to remove some of his upper layers of clothing. They were soaked wet for the most part and were hard to peel off, especially as most of them were ill-fitting, made to be worn with warmer clothing. Eith held his arms out to let her remove his shirt more easily, and tried to ease it off his body.

"I...think you put your hand right into a wound. I felt my...ughh." Eithron wiped his mouth with his hand, and tried to sit up further.

"Sit back, please," insisted Tel-Niv as she opened the front of his shirt. There the source of the pain was found. Inbetween his shirt and his underclothes his satchel had got tangled up. An arrow had dug into his midriff and his undershirt was now stained red. He hadn't noticed the pain before, but it hit him now. Tel-Niv swore in Common Eastern as she saw it. "*Sit,*" she said, pronouncing it *Seet*- one of the men gave her his attention, "*Rip a strip of cloth from your clothes. Do either of you have a dagger?*You," she now said to Eithron, her Cossite deteriorating, "be flat and resting."

Eith carefully lay back down on the stretcher, and placed his hand over his face to shield his eyes from the sunlight, leaving a crimson smear across his brow. One of the men passed Tel-Niv a dagger as the other handed her a strip of cloth.

She quickly cut the satchel from Eithron, dropping it to the floor of the boat before lifting up his undershirt. She started to bandage it up, causing great pain to Eithron. Trying to stifle his cries of pain, Eithron clamped his teeth together, grimacing dreadfully. The pressing up of the bandages against the open wound sent fresh spikes of pain through him. His jaw began to ache but he could not open his mouth, he was paralysed by the pain. He gave a frightful moan as he tried to stay conscious. Tel-Niv swore again, loudly, stopping bandaging Eithron to rip a second strip of cloth - her sleeve this time. The pain lessened slightly, but before Eithron had a chance to react his healer shouted an apology in Eastern and pushed the bundled up cloth into his mouth. She then moved back to her bandage, starting to tie it once more. Eithron tried to calm down, to take deep, slow, controlled breaths, but as soon as Tel-Niv got back to it, he moaned again, and his breathing went at a hundred horses an hour. The cloth hanging from his aching mouth was a god-send, and well needed, as another stifled moan echoed over the water.

Tel-Niv finished bandaging him, though with some difficulty, removing the cloth as she finished tying the bandage. His midriff still ached and stung, but less so now the pressure was relieved. She took a deep breath and momentarily closed her eyes as she slumped backwards. After a seconds rest, she sat up again, but slower, and began to murmur an incantation under her breath with her hands over his wound. The pain was relieved as she cast the spell.

"Agh...thank you." Eithron held himself still as she gave the incantation, knowing that any extra variables like his movement can make this kind of thing more difficult. Or at least thats what Sheuon told him. She May have just wanted him to shut up and sit still, instead of talking about horses and trying to stick his fingers in the cauldron.

"It is alright. I am sorry I made pain for you. It is only short until we arrive at Silver Dusk, err, dock," she told him as she finished the spell, her face pale. "Once we arrive, you will sleep. Our mother will care for you better."

Eith gave a small nod of his head to show that he understood. He was still hugging his body, and placed one of his hands on the boat to keep himself from falling with the swaying. At least this time he didn't feel sick. Perhaps all landlubbers needed to find their sea-legs was a good shipwreck or two. He smiled to himself as he thought this, and rubbed his jaw with his other hand.

The rest of the journey was spent in silence, besides a few muttered words between the three islanders on directions and advice. It took around a half hour before they arrived at the dock across the waters. The small rowing boat came to a stop at a specially designed lower part of the dock, while above them walkways for access to much large ships towered.

"How are you feeling?" asked Tel-Niv, as the two men secured the boat and started emptying it.

Eithron gave a grunt as he prepared to disembark. "I'm fine. I'm certainly feeling better than sitting there with a hole in my chest. You are a good healer." He looked around at the docks and the bustling couple emptying the boat. "I think I will be able to walk. I might need some help off this boat first though."

"*Give me a hand getting him off the boat,"*said Tel-Niv in her own language. One of the men stopped and helped hold the boat steady as she lifted him up, swinging his arm over her shoulders. His legs ached hugely, the first time they had been used since he had left the ship. Giving little silent gasps of pain as he put one foot in front of the other, they slowly and carefully made their way off of the boat and onto the dock. It took him a little to steady himself, his legs were all wobbly and barely did what they were told.

"So...who is this 'mother' you mentioned?..Ugh... Is it your mother? And these are your brothers?"

She laughed as she stopped to let him remove his arm. "No, these men are not my brothers. Mother is ours though, yes. She was Cossite and told me all I know of healing and Cossut. Our father died a distance ago, but he was from Menyr."

With a slightly confused smile Eithron stood and regained his footing, "Ah, I see. I should want to have a talk with her then."

Forgetting for a moment that he was still in pain, he stepped forward a little too hastily, and teetered dangerously, grabbing onto Tel-Niv's arm to keep upright. "Whoops! Sorry..."

Tel-Niv sprung forward to grab him before he fell over, holding him steady. "Are you struggling?" she asked, with worry in her voice, putting his arm back over her shoulders. "You are still bad."

Tel-Niv continued to talk, but her voice fell away as Eithron's head started to spin again. His vision blurred and he lost focus, his knees giving way as he fainted.

*Next Chapter*