RP:Rescue Me

Synopsis: Lanara returns to the cottage in immense pain and with a dagger wedged in-between her ribs, after slaying a drake in a mercy kill. Krystan does his best to heal his love, and Talyara ends up coming to fully save her sisters life.

Lanara slowly opens the door to the cottage and weakly presses her weight against it, to slam it closed, so that the chill wouldn’t be allowed in. The woman looked worse for wear, as she was donning an ankle-length mossy green dress, or rather what remained of it. A slit up the side showed off her shapely thigh, which was covered in deep gashes, and her matching cloak was shredded. Raising her head, she nearly collapses as she attempts to pass through the room and head to the bed. All she wanted to do was sleep, though she was woozy and kept stumbling on her way to the adjoining room. Sighing, she bites back a yelp as she slides down the wall and clutches her ribs, banging her head against a cabinet. However she had made it through a snowstorm in the middle of the night was anyone’s guess, especially considering she had a dagger embedded in her ribcage.

Krystan is up and about the moment the witch was in the door. He was no stranger to the wears of battle, and Lanara wore such evidence openly. With a quickness that demonstrates his full recovery, the man makes his way to the elf, and lifts her up and moves her to the bed. He sets about instantly going into damage control. Where the witches were good with magical applications for wounds, the assassin is damn good with patching up such injuries with naught more than a bottle of potent whisky, some stitches and clean rags. He pours her a drink, then himself one, before he says. "I'm starting to think we're all trying to out-do the other these days." In a light attempt at humor, as he goes to examining his lover's condition. The man is one for detail, as every scratch, slash, burn or whatever is examined with intense scrutiny as he sets about his work. His dagger is in his hands with startling quickness, and what’s left of her dress is expertly ripped apart to where she hardly moves, nor feels the tug of the dress falling freely to either side. He has seen that flawless body before, and right now is not time for one to be shy. "Where the hell have you been, huh?" he says as he offers her the glass of whisky, saying. “It’ll take the edge off. Believe me."

Lanara whimpers in pain and shrinks away from Krystan, not wanting her lover to see her as anything less than perfect. “I’m fine…” She hisses, though it’s obvious that she’s clearly –not- fine. A few shallow scratches dot her left cheek and her collar bone hold a deeper slash. Moving lower he would notice that Lana’s ivory athame was deeply embedded in-between her ribs, as blood was flowing freely, at a rapid pace. As she turns her head to obediently take a small sip of whiskey, she winces, and then he would notice that her dark locks were also embedded in blood, a head wound. “I… There was a hatchling on the back of a drake. The mother was badly wounded. I had to take her out, as she was suffering… And it sort of backfired on me. She’s passed…” The witch’s voice trails off now, as tears silently flow over her suddenly pale cheeks. She forgets to mention Pilar, or the fact that she ended up rescuing the hatchling, as the room begins to spin, before her very eyes.

Krystan listens as he sets to work instantly. The minor lashes are not life threatening, but the athame is. Such a vital spot is often deadly, as the assassin knows well. He'd often embed his blade there to ensure a kill. But, it seems to have luckily missed any vital organs. The luck of this witch is amazing. So, soothingly talking to his beloved, the assassin says. "Its alright, I'm here ok. We shall make sure everything is ok..." He yanks the athame out quickly then, before he finishes. He knows that will be one of the most painful parts of this. But, the blade is discarded as a clean rag is placed upon the wound, and pressure is applied. "Now, stay awake, you've lost a good bit of blood," Knowing she is going to hate him for the pain, he does his job anyway. He'd rather have her pissed, than dead. The blade cut clean, but the width of the blade isn't unmanageable. Holding the skin together, the man sets to working the stitches through with a skilled and steady hand. He weaves the thread through and through, until the wound is good and bound together, but not so tight as to risk tearing. Those wraps she used on him are retrieved with him hardly moving, as many still lingered at the ready since he was in her position not that long ago. The soothing effect they have should help, but, to ensure infection does not set in, the man does the only trick her knows. He tips that bottle of whisky up, and pours a good bit over the now closed wound. It's going to sting like a mother. But later on it will ensure she doesn't get it infected. He isn't a healer, but he has the skills of a field medic. Once the whisky is poured over it, he'd set to the collarbone injury. It’s a deep gash, but due to the bone's location, stitches won't help. The bleeding has stopped mostly, and it seems it’s started to coagulate already. He dabs some alcohol on another clean rag and sets to cleaning it, again ensuring she doesn’t get infected. Once cleaned and bandaged, he goes to examining the wound on her head as gently as he can. She probably hates him right about now, but, she will survive. The assassin refuses to accept otherwise.

Lanara screams at the top of her lungs as the dagger is removed from her ribcage, though catching her breath is just as painful as the removal of the athame. Weeping hysterically, she tries to claw and kick at Krystan, delirious from pain and not understanding why he was hurting her, further. “Stop!” She cries out, the woman ripping the sheets with her blood soaked fingernails and wailing helplessly. As he pours the liquor over her wound, she winces, not because it stings, but because it’s the worst form of healing that she’s ever had to endure. Being a witch she was used to being numbed, cleansed, healed, and then stitched. Never was there pain when she healed another, unless it was a near death injury, and the fact that her body was on fire made it feel as though he meant to kill her, after torturing her, greatly. Beside herself, she glares at Kry as he aims to tend to the wound on her head, daring him to try and cut one single lustrous lock of her beautiful hair. Lana had gorgeous hair, and she considered that to be her best feature, so if he dared to destroy it, he’d have a hellcat on his hands. “Stop…” She weakly whispers, very much wanting to sleep, despite his plea to stay awake. She had enough this evening, and having her flesh tampered with and bathed in alcohol after sustaining grave injuries was not her idea of fun. “Kry… Stop…Just let me die…” Death would likely be less painful, she thinks, as she softens her expression and pleads with him, those chocolate brown eyes glazed with pain.

Krystan knows well the pain she goes through, but knows better still that what he is doing will ensure she doesn't die, mainly, but also that she will recover. And since she chose to come here, instead of seeking another healer, like her sister, he was her best shot at not losing so much blood she wouldn't be able to recover. Not unless some potent, and more often than not, dark, magic was involved. But, she begs and pleads, those doe eyes are brought up like a knight would raise his shield. All to be defeated by the assassin's unwavering resolve. Her hair, and head, were in luck. She has a nice bump, and it too was bleeding slightly, but the swelling will go down and she will recover. "You'll have a headache for a few days, and you'll hate me forever, but you'll live." He was covered in her blood, his new clothes ruined. But, there was a look of concern in his eyes, a worry that went to the man's soul, and thus let out hints through his brilliantly shaded blue eyes that betray his concern for the woman. She was fine, now. She’d have to rest, and her sister could speed up her recovery. But, the fact it was -her- walking through that door so injured reached through that armor of anger, hate and emotionless professionalism that makes him such a deadly killer, to reach his heart. He sits back, his hands shake for the first time since his first kill. He lets out a deep and heavy sigh. He knew she needed sleep. So, he fetches her some water, she needed to replenish her fluids. "Drink this." He commands. Though his tone is filled with compassion, and even more worry. He did not like this turn. He doesn't like seeing her on the bed. He is fine with whatever fate awaits him, but seeing the woman he cares about, nay, the woman he loves more than anything else in this world, like -this-, has hit him deep. He sits and stares at her, as he will all night, and into the next day, until she gets better.

Lanara continues to sob, though her voice is hoarse and it tires her to continue carrying on like this. She knew deep down that Krystan was trying to help her, but she’s in great pain, and has never endured healing like –that- before. At least her accusatory looks had halted, though she continues to grasps the blood-soaked sheets, be it in fear or holding on so that pain wouldn’t continue to shake her body. As her lover returns with the water and she sees the concern in his ocean blue eyes, she lowers her crying to soft sniffling. “I don’t –want- water…” She states matter-of-factly, as she grabs the glass and hurls it across the room, with whatever remaining strength she has left. The glass dissolves into hundreds of clear shards that dot the corner of the bedroom floor, though the sound of the crash appears to make her slightly more alert. “I… I killed her… I feel so awful. I only meant to end her misery, but she fell from the cliff. It’s all my fault…” Lana was, of course, feeling sympathy towards the dragon that she had somewhat slain, earlier. Typical of the witch, to feel more sorrow for an animal than for her own flesh. “I don’t mean to be difficult…” She manages, before trying to rise from the bed, but finding she’s too weak to support her own weight. “Up.”

Krystan dodges the flying glass easily enough, thank you honed reflexes! and continues on. He props himself down next to the woman, and maybe due to his close proximity, or perhaps the powerful witch's empathic abilities leaking out, but he feels more of what she feels than what is the norm. He knows she is concerned about the life she feels she took, and it weighs heavily upon her. But, the powerful resolve of the assassin seems to be able to even shake the unstable empathic powers of the witch at the moment, and he (gently) pins her back down to the bed. "Lay down." Comes his voice in a soft, yet stern tone. "You've plenty of time to deal with that later. But do you know what kind of condition you're in currently?" His eyes narrow. He wanted to yell. Didn't she? Wouldn't it be fair to yell back at her, and tell her how bad she should feel for making him worry like this? About how she is being a damn brat right now, and will only injure herself and make him worry more? No. He won't do that. He tries to again sooth the distraught woman as best he can. “I’m here Lana, but you need to rest. You took some serious damage, and I'm sorry I don't have magic at my disposal to make it easier, but what I did helped, and you'll survive until someone useful can show up and magic away all the pain, alright?" To this end, the man has an idea. He looks to Taylor, the cat that is Lana's shadow, and he goes for broke. “Taylor, go get Taly, we need her." he doesn't know if the cat will understand him, but he isn't stupid. He knows that cat is way more than it seems, and well, crazier things have happened in hollow. Right? Then, even if Taylor just kind of sits there, Krys will go back to trying to calm Lana down. "Baby, look. I... I got you a gift today. Bought with honest earned money, from a day's labor. I... I was hoping to surprise you with it today...” He tries to smile, but it kind of fails, as he shows her the pendant. “The merchant says it’s a Lovers Pendant, and that it will strengthen our bond. So... I dunno...” The man slumps back in his chair. He isn't used to this. He hates this feeling. He can't just stab away the problem, or drink it away. His woman is hurt, and he seems unable to do anything. If Lana can still feel others emotions, she will then feel how useless and utterly hurt Krys feels right now. Again he looks to the cat, and says. "Please... go get Taly..." In a desperate voice.

Lanara falls silent, as her empathic vibes are going haywire right now, and she’s not sure what feelings are her own, and what feelings are those of Krystan. Too weak to put up her shield, she falls silent and, at last, stops crying and shaking. Taylor hisses at Krystan, as though it was the assassin’s fault that her mistress was in distress and claws at the door. Once Krystan opens it, the large snow leopard is dashing through the snow and on the hunt for Talyara. She was a smart feline, and although she was furious at the male for giving her orders, she would do anything her four legs would allow her to do, to save her elven companion. In the meantime, Lanara pouts at the male as he tells her to stay put, the woman not wanting to lie in her puddle of whiskey and blood. Though at the mention of the present, she arches a brow and extends a dainty hand, though she quickly retracts it, as she didn’t want to get blood on her lover’s hand. “A… Lover’s Pendant?” She murmurs, before the faintest and weakest of smiles lights up her pale face. The aching in her side is nearly unbearable, and the pain is visible in those beautiful brown orbs, but her heart aches to see Kry at such a loss and for that, she manages the smallest of smiles. “I’m going to be alright…” She reassures, before falling silent and biting her tongue to the point of drawing blood, so that she wouldn’t cry out in pain and upset her assassin further.

Talyara had been working on her skills of moving quickly between the different realms of Hollow for some time now. She had finally perfected her abilities, but never used it for this far of a distance. However, Lana was the most important person to her and she wasn’t about to let anything hinder her. Taylor had already run ahead of her, so Taly merely focused her energy, those blue flames erupting from her hands immediately. As she concentrated, the flames grew larger and suddenly engulfed her petite frame. A few moments later, Taly appeared in the Winterberry Garden, slightly woozy and completely exhausted from the long travel in such a short time, but she immediately sprinted down the path towards her cottage on shaky legs. Upon reaching the door, there was a moment’s hesitation for she hadn’t been there since Ayras left, but she swallowed hard and flung the door open causing it to crash against the wall with a loud bang. Lana was not in the common room, so that left the bedroom. Taly quickly rounds the corner and freezes. There was blood everywhere and Lana looked worse for the wear sprawled in her bed. Glass was shattered in the corner and Taly’s doe-like eyes widened as she looked between her sister and her lover. “Wha…” she starts breathlessly. “What happened?!” She finally asks as she moves to Lana’s side, emerald irises sweeping over her sister’s injuries and attempting to assess the damage.

Krystan hears the crunching of the heavy snow outside before the door even slams open, but he knows almost instantly who it is as the snow leopard rounds the corner first. The cat, which shoots a venomous glare towards the assassin, did as it was asked. Talyara is in the room a moment later, and her demand to know what happened is met by the man rubbing his own weary looking face as he says. "I don't know, she stumbled in here way worse than this. I... I did the best I can do, she won't die, but she is still in pain." he shakes his head, feeling utterly useless, as he continues. "I don't have magic. I don't know any magic to even try; all I know is what you see. It saved her life. She had a damn dagger stuck in her side! Nasty slashes all over her, and a wound to the head. I took care of those, cleaned and stitched her up, even sanitized the wounds best I could, but I can't stop the pain." There is a rare look on the man's face. Usually an emotionless mask, hard as stone, he seems ragged, worn down and beaten by the worry for his lady love. Concern shows in his eyes, and it wouldn't take an empath to see he feels horrible for being so damn useless. "She says she killed someone, or something. I ...I don't know...” He submits there, his face falling into his hands for a long moment before he again looks at Lanara's blood covered form, and he nearly loses it again. "I swear by whatever gods are out there, if someone did this to her... hell will be a reprieve from the torments I shall unleash upon them and everyone else around them!!" Comes the worry driven, anger fueled promise of the assassin, who means every single damn word.

Lanara clutches her side as she attempts to sit up, though a few drops of blood were beginning to seep through the wraps, as she likely popped a stitch or two. The bedroom smelled like a brewery, and the elf’s nude body was smeared in blood, from head to toe. At the sight of her sister, she groans, miserable from the nights events and the pain that surged through her frame. “Taly…” She croaks out, while Taylor hops on the foot of the bed and watches Krystan with wary eyes. “I’m glad you are here… I never saw anyone treat another as I was healed! It was… Awful!” Big brown eyes fill with tears again, though she turns her head to look at her lover, whose healing habits had traumatized her, as well as saved her life. The witch dreaded knowing that her sister would get satisfaction out of scolding them both, especially when she took in the full sight of her cottage. An orange was rolling around on the floor in the next room, a crumpled leather dress was hanging off a chair, and a broken glass was in the corner of the bedroom. Add to that the bloodshed and the whiskey, and she was sure to have a fit! So the woman takes this single moment to focus on her true love, before her sibling goes ballistic, and before she is poked and prodded again, before being healed, once more. Krystan is her safe haven, her hero, and her soul mate. Regardless of his past, she desires a future with him, and it’s obvious as she was willing to accept the lover’s pendant. As he makes his threat to the unknown, she winces, and extends her bloody hand, not caring now if she soiled his clothing. “No… It’s –my- fault… It will all be alright. Honest… Even if I perish… Tyler…” Voice trailing off, the witch now does fall unconscious, be it from her skull crashing against the cliff wall, or the loss of blood, it’s unknown. The fact that she messed up her feline’s name would likely raise an eyebrow, as her hand falls limp off the bed, never having made contact with her love. Taylor rises to her haunches and unleashes an angry hiss, before jumping from the bed and going to sit at Krystan’s side, clearly unhappy.

Talyara only half listens to Krystan’s explanation of what happened with Lanara. While the details are hazy, Taly is quickly moving to the other side of the room, crouched down, and pulling open a drawer. Several bottles can be heard clanking together and the witch scoops them all up in her arms before straightening up and moving to Lana once more. Taly would pick up a bottle and swirl it quickly, holding it up to her green eyes as it changed from clear to a pale blue. She would uncork the glass with her teeth, spitting it on the ground, and hold the opening to Lanara’s lips. “Here, drink this Lana; it will help with your pain.” Luckily for Taly she is able to get Lana to drink half the bottle before she loses consciousness. The confusion of Taylor’s name causes Taly to furrow her brow, but now was not the time for consideration; it was a time for action. The soiled wrap around her sister’s ribs were cause for concern, but the potential head injury was more disconcerting. Taly unties a pouch from her hip and immediately pulls out a wrap of leather. As she unrolls it, Krystan would be able to see various tools, and Taly would select the smallest knife in the bunch, similar to a scalpel. The witch could hardly believe she was already using this again so soon (she had used the knife to help heal Linn after his necromancy attack), but she seemed unfazed. Taly’s eyes had darkened considerably, and instead of their bright emerald green, they were a dark mossy almost muddy hue. “Uncork the bottle with the green tincture,” she barked at Krystan. While he did that Taly prods her sister’s head, finding a rather large bump there. When the assassin hands over the bottle she douses the knife the in the liquid and pours a copious amount near her sister’s wound. Before losing all nerve, Taly pushes the blade against the bump and drags it against her flesh. Immediately, dark crimson blood begins to seep from the wound, slowly causing the lump to diminish in size. “Get me some clean bandages from the bottom drawer I was in, please,” she orders once again. Once Taly was satisfied with the pressure she had relieved from her sister’s head, she would quickly stitch it up once more, slender fingers moving quickly without causing too much cosmetic damage. Once more Taly would cleanse the wound before wrapping her sister’s head in the clean bandage before securing it tightly.

Krystan does as he is commanded, listening and moving about the cottage. He again feels useless, but he knows he sent for Talyara for a reason. It was perhaps the best decision he could do. But he sees now these women use magic for just about everything. His limited skills saved Lana's life, but magic was so much easier. The way his woman described his aid, the look of horror and the way she pleaded for death instead all made his stomach churn. He sets down what Taly needs, and heads out. He needed air. The man was literally close to losing it, right then and there.

Lanara is unconscious for the duration of her head being sliced and sutured, though as the pressure begins to leave her head, she’s able to open her eyes. Regaining half-conscious, she peers up at her sister and sees the worry in her emerald eyes, and she noticed Krystan, heading for the door, and leaving. Just as well, she thinks, before those beautiful eyes brim with tears, and she clenches her jaw. The pain is slowly subsiding, thanks to the potion, though she was still nauseas and dizzy.

Talyara’s eyes trail on Krystan as he leaves, shaking her head slightly and causing those chestnut waves to fall across her shoulders. When she turns back to her sister she notices those eyes are open and brimming with tears. “Oh Lana, don’t cry, he is just unbearably worried about you. He just went to get some fresh air. You sure gave him a fright.” Quickly moving once more to her bag of tricks, Taly procures a mint leaf and pushes it towards her sister’s mouth. “Chew on this; it will help settle your stomach.” The witch gives her beloved sister an encouraging smile before moving to a basin of water at the far end of the room, and bringing it back to the bed. Taly sits at her sister’s side, dipping fresh bandages in the water and gently wiping the blood from her sister’s body. After several quiet minutes her sister is cleaned up. The bandages around her ribs seem to be holding their own so Taly grabs the basin of soiled water and moves back to her dresser. The witch paws through her top drawer and comes up with a long, silk nightgown which she brings to Lanara, helping her get it over her body. A chaste kiss is planted on her sister’s forehead before Taly hands her the bottle of her blue tincture. “Finish the bottle, it will help you rest. I’ll be right back.” Grabbing the basin to dispose of the water, Taly moves to the front of the cottage and opens the door. Spotting Krystan she moves over towards him before emptying the water out. Taly reaches out and places her hand on the assassin’s arm and speaks in a gentle tone. “Don’t beat yourself up. You saved her life using the methods that you know. No one can blame you for that. I, for one, am grateful,” she offers with an appreciative smile. “Please come back inside, Lana’s semi awake, at least she was. I’m sure you’ll want to watch over her tonight.” She would wait for Krystan to follow her back into the cottage, “I will give you some tinctures and explain what they do, alright?”

Krystan inhales deep, and exhales slow. He repeats this process for several moments before the sister would come outside. The cold of the night air fills his lungs with a frigid bite. But, if one was careful, they'd see the man's body was running hot. A bit hotter than most, actually. The heat rises from his shoulders like a steam as he stares off into the night, off into the wilderness where in the distance a single howl can be heard from miles off. Then, Taly's voice dives into the darker corners of his mind where his thoughts were taking him, and takes hold, bringing him back to the present. Back away from that animalistic side that demands blood. Back from the monster he was who screams out from within to seek out vengeance. Someone, something had hurt his beloved. Nearly killed her, and -he- had to put her through pain to save her. He had to hurt -her-, of all people, that was the last he would ever raise a single hand to. It was all new, this bond, this caring. Love was such a foreign concept to a man who was raised like he was. It was weakness. Something to be exploited. It impeded survival, as so many people have fallen to his blades before when trying to save a loved one. Some even wished to die in his prey's stead. And for once, the assassin is on the other end. He would gladly offer himself up to whatever god or murderous fiend that lay in the shadows waiting like a hungry wolf to prey upon his beloved Lanara. A simple nod is all that is given is response, as for now he simply doesn't have the words. Back inside he goes, following Talyara's lead.

Lanara nods to her sister, and obediently munches on the mint leaf, though her jaw trembles in fear. The empath felt more a burden to her sister and lover now, more than ever. As her sister bathes her, she remains eerily silent, even as she’s slipped into the silken nightgown. Tonight was traumatic for the brunette, and it wasn’t often that she let others see how weak she truly was, it would take some getting used to… An hour ago she felt heroic and on top of the world, and now? She was diced and quartered by those she loved, an in effort to save her life. Never had she had such inhumane treatment done to her body, and to be left right after, though she couldn’t blame Krystan. Ever since she came into his life, she had done nothing but turn his world upside down. “Maybe he’s better off without me...” She mutters, vowing now to let a single tear fall. As her beloved sister leaves to empty the basin, she sighs heavily and hugs the uninjured half of her body, craving comfort. Lana’s bruised cheek falls against the blood-stained pillowcase as her eyes shift to the door, as Taylor is the first to enter. Immediately, the snow leopard prances like a kitten over to her mistress, and nuzzles her hand, though her blue eyes peer over her shoulder. Knowing that Krystan must have returned, she narrows her eyes, wanting to appear stern, but ends up weeping again. “Taly…” She cries out, as her fingers cling to the feline’s fur. “Anything for heartache in that cupboard?”

Talyara breathes out a deep sigh as Lana calls to her, asking for something for heartache. The witch shakes her head as she goes to retrieve some clean linen in order to change the sheets so the pair isn’t sleeping in blood and alcohol. “There is no reason to have heartache, Lana, Krystan is right here.” Taly moves over to the bed and gently helps her sister sit up so that she may change the pillow cases. Not caring that the assassin was there, she plows on, “You have to remember, that this is all new to him as well. This...love thing. So you need to learn to give him a break, and realize he’s learning how to cope with these new feelings just as much as you.” Taly’s words are spoken softly, but she holds her sister’s chocolate gaze as she talks. Who would have thought that the half elf would speak so kindly of her sister’s lover? The clean sheets are left on the end of the bed as Taly moves to sweep up the broken glass in the corner. As she turns to dispose of the shards, green eyes catch a vase with dead roses in them. Her eyes immediately begin to brim with tears and a stabbing pain shoots through her chest. Taly quickly drops the shards in the vase and angrily throws the lot in the rubbish bin as a few tears manage to roll down her cheeks as she turns to the pair. “You two are welcome to stay here as long as you want, I--I can’t stay here…”

Krystan is very much so numb due to the entire ordeal, that where he'd normally pick up on Talyara's distress, he wholly misses it. His focus is Lanara, as he makes his way over, without saying a word, and just holds her as gently, yet as closely, as he can. For several moments he doesn't say anything, but he does finally manage to get out. “I love you, Lanara." Before fighting back the urge to squeeze her in a tight hug. The man finally raises his gaze to meet hers, and he breaks. Tears swell in his eyes as well, as he says. “I... I'm so sorry I hurt you. I... I just... I tried to help, and I'm so sorry...” He doesn't have the words. He isn't used to -this-. "Lanara, I love you so much. I'd do anything for you. If you want me to leave... I'll go...”

Lanara sits perched at the edge of the bed, and watches her sister closely as she cleans up the mess she had made, feeling awful. About to apologize, her heart breaks as she sees those green eyes well with tears, and instantly knows the cause. A few days prior she had returned to the cottage and found all of Ayras’ belongings moved from their home, and Taly hasn’t been by to visit since. Sighing, she shakes her head, then gets dizzy and waits until the moment passes. “N-no… Don’t worry about him, sister. You have Linn now, and you will –always- have me and that puppy…” Lana smiles faintly, only able to imagine the agony that her sister was going through, but deeply understanding her reasoning for not wanting to reside at the cottage. “We won’t stay that much longer… Just until I’m up and about.” A shy glance was given to Krystan now, as she had heard her sister’s words loud and clear. Both of them had come from different backgrounds and this relationship was going to take work, understanding, and above all, patience. Sniffling, she takes his hand and rests her cheek against his palm, gazing up through those long lashes into his tear-filled gaze. “It’s not your fault, really. I’m just not used to a barbaric way of healing another… But it’s not –your- fault… It’s all that you know. I will teach you the proper way to help another, at least the basics, when I am healed. I can’t hate you for hurting me, when you saved my life… I feel as though I should be the one leaving… I ruined your career and now I’ve upset you. I’m sorry…” Looking at Talyara now, she blinks through her tears. “I love you, my sister. Thank you for saving me, too. And for knowing that Taylor meant for you to follow.” Now her gaze would return to Krystan, as she kisses each of his fingertips. “I love you, more… You know that?”

Talyara bites hard on her bottom lip as it begins to quiver, squinting her eyes shut tightly at Krystan’s proclamations of love for her sister. While she was happy for the pair, truly she was, it was too much for her to bear, being in the home she had built for Ayras, the promises he had made and subsequently broken, the love she held for him that was never returned. The witch strains to smile at her sister’s attempt at comforting words but it merely came out as a grimace. Taly had to leave and she had to leave now before she completely broke apart. Quickly turning from the pair she moves to the common room and exits the cottage without another word.

Lanara watches her sisters back as it fades from view, and frowns, knowing that the breakup was taking its toll on Talyara. But the best way to heal from matters of the heart was to find a new lover, or let time mend the wound. Linn would see to it that her sibling was put back together, she was sure that he was more than capable. Sighing, she vows to send Taly a lovely letter and some treats that they used to make back in Kelvar. That would lift her spirits! Lana shakily rises to her feet and with some assistance from Krystan; they would put new sheets on the bed, before she would curl up by his side. “Lay with me… You won’t hurt me, I promise. I just really want to go to sleep and be held in your arms. It’s been a rough night… We can talk more tomorrow, okay?” Raising her head, she places a lingering kiss to his lips, before lowering her head to his chest. Within moments, the witch is half asleep, in the arms of the man she loves.