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Mejt

The girl didn’t reply, but she seemed to be trying to say something.

“Not–my–name. My–name–is–Isella–Christine–Aumardel.”

I scowled. With a name like that, she was definitely nobility. Why had she told me?

Suddenly, the realization dawned on me and I snorted a laugh.

“I didn’t mean– Delya means–” I fumbled for a synonym in the same language “It means Lady.”

It was odd that she didn’t know it. Wasn’t it common knowledge?

The man handed me the water and I took it without comment and gave it to the girl. She wouldn’t let go of my hand, and I tolerated it.

The girl finally lapsed into sleep and I disentangled my hand from hers. Neither of us would bring that up when she woke.

She shivered in her sleep.

I sighed and mentally ran through a list of curse words, none of which I would utter out loud. Growing up in a port city, surrounded by sailors, had given me an impressive vocabulary, but I never put it to use.

As soon as I’d finished with that, I unpinned the dull blue jacket I wore over my stays and shift. It was late spring, and still too cold to go just in my stays, but she needed it more than I did. I draped the wool jacket around her shoulders. That was good enough.

(Author’s note: I find it hilarious how Mejt seems to be kind against her will XD)

 

“Thank you!” A girl cried. She had long dark hair, and thankfully she was dressed simply. I almost gave a breath of relief, then remembered that I didn’t like people.

“You don’t know what a relief it is to see you! I’d go mad if there wasn’t anyone else here! Well, not mad, but maybe depressed. Or scared. Or maybe both. But, anyway, I’m just so glad I’m not the only one here!”

She was grinning, swinging the leather pouch by her side.

I stood and crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow at her. She was being incredibly optimistic for someone trapped in a nightmare like the rest of us. Besides, being with people didn’t sound like something to be thankful for. If anything, I was cursing every moment in the presence of these strangers.

She seemed to realize her mistake and smiled.

“Forgive me for my enthusiasm. I didn’t mean to make any of you uncomfortable. I’m Enydd Skvogaard. Who are you guys?”

Odd name. Perhaps from Tirbren? (I’m sticking with the names from Liorah’s world because I haven’t created any new ones XD Gosh, Mejt’s underdeveloped world is making this just a degree more chaotic than usual XD)

Tirbrennians weren’t better than those from Liqeni. They’d long been allies, and our enemies. They looked down on us as much as anyone else.

“I’m May,” I said, briefly. My real name, Mejt Eirlyssen, echoed in my mind, but I pushed it down. It was too decidedly Shykvallian, they’d notice. (I made up that name on the spot XD I’m winging this more than usual XD)

“I’m from Mara. Where are you from?” Enydd said.

I’d never heard of it. Was it a city? I knew more about geography than most people expected of me. Names of foreign cities and faraway places had flown through the lighthouse like gulls for as long as I could remember.

“Varseina, from the Lighthouse,” I said, briefly. I couldn’t help the splinter of pride that bored into the statement. I was proud of our lighthouse. It was ours, no matter what anyone said. Wasn’t it Father who had lit the light every day for as long as I could remember? Wasn’t it Mother and I who had helped him count for the fog bell, even in the middle of the night, when the wind seemed ready to tip it into the sea once and for all?

The girl’s eyes flicked to someone standing at the other end of the cave. He was tall, with tan skin and dark hair.

He saw us too, but as soon as he did, a raven took his place, swooping up and around a pillar. I glanced at the floor, then the ceiling, trying to figure out where the man had gone. He couldn’t be– Only his clothing was left where he’d stood.

The raven morphed into a wolf with wings, giant, roaring, with claws like knives. My eyebrows slowly pulled upward. This was getting truly ridiculous.

“Why follow evil dhiaga?” It growled. “I have power to free you.”

“Come again?” I said, my tone automatically slipping into the flat dialect more common among the shore folk. I seldom used it, it made people think I was stupid, and I didn’t need anything else to add to that already constant perception. However, it was the only way I could express my sheer incredulous surprise.

“Choose. Live free, run, or die.”

I glanced up at the creature. I was fully convinced I was dreaming. Considering that this was a dream, I did the only logical thing. I sat down against the wall, crossed my arms, and watched the debacle unfold.

Someone charged the wolf, and it slashed at him. It also seemed capable of producing ice, which was quite unexpected. I’d never seen ice, but I recognized it from my parents’ stories.

The force of it’s wings was as strong as a summer gale. It brought tears to my eyes and goosebumps raised on my bare arms.

The noble– Isella– got up, stumbling toward it. I sighed. Nobles had no sense. If she wanted to die, I wasn’t going to save her again. I was sick and tired of it already.

She tripped and almost fell. I sighed, cursed myself, and got up to help her. What was wrong with me? I supposed I just couldn’t stand suffering, even if it was inflicted by someone’s own stupidity.

Before I could reach her, she raised her hands, which were now glowing white. I stopped, uncertain. This all looked like something I didn’t want to get involved in. If I did, I’d get blamed for it, no matter what happened. I was too used to being a convenient scapegoat.

The creature stopped, as though frozen. It seemed to want to move, but couldn’t. Isella was visibly struggling with the effort of whatever she was doing, but managed to speak.

“We don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know why you’re here; I don’t know why I’m here. But if we don’t work together we will all die. These people–” she gestured behind her–“they helped me. That man you hurt saved me from the dragon.”

Helped her against my own will, at best. Why was she trying to be nice to it? If she’d ignore it long enough, it would become someone else’s problem.

The blinding light vanished, and so did the wolf, I caught a glimpse of the man, before it morphed into a mouse.

Some of the ice had flashed forward, toward Isella. She seemed trapped in it. I carefully inched forward. Was she alright?

A raven flew out of the corner, then morphed back into a man. He paused and rummaged around in his clothing.

The man approached Isella. The man in metal tried to get between them, even trying to slash at him. He seemed impenetrable, taking the almost-lethal cut in stride.

I got out of his way, but kept my eyes fixed on him in a decidedly hostile way. It was all I could do.

He poured some of the liquid on her face. She gasped in relief. Thank goodness, she’d be fine.

The man caught a creature, read the message on its leg, wrote something back, and sent it off.

I didn’t stop staring at him.

“Where I’m from, we call that a dramatic overreaction.”

He turned and stared at me.

Oh, heavens. I’d said that out loud. That was rather an issue.

I stared back at him, so scared I was bold.

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SHEESH this took me long to write XD