Oil and Water | Arcane | Silco | Sevika

The Bridge

     Smoke infiltrates the lungs of those left alive on the bridge. A thick, dark cloud hovers over the living and the dead alike, masking anything more than a few feet from eyeshot. An eerie stillness settles in the atmosphere and redness of the sky pales in comparison to the endless sea of red coating the bridge. Bodies of friends and family are scattered like leaves on cold, hard dirt.

     Two young girls watch on, frightened as a large man pummels into a less fortunate opponent. They hold onto each other, already shaken up by the death that lingers around their shrunken frames. The oldest of the two remains rooted in her spot, protecting the younger child to the best of her ability.

     Mayve shouts for her brother, unable to see him through the dense clouds of smoke. Her fearful eyes catch the last of his fight. One would think from this angle he's victorious, but the lost battle on the bridge suggests otherwise. Her eyes catch the sight of two young girls no less than twenty paces away from him. She follows the line of sight of the pink haired girl, noticing the dead bodies, some of which she recognizes. The parents of the now orphaned girls are amongst them.

     "Vander!" Mayve hears the metal footfalls of the enforces approach from their side of the bridge with speed. Any second now the enemy will be upon them. "We need to go, now!"

     Vander looks between the man whose life he ended and the two girls behind him. Fury contorts his face into something monstrous. The taller one shields the younger from the horror surrounding them, her hand covering her younger sister's eyes. With a guilt-ridden heart, he picks them up and follows his sister off the bridge. The girls curl themselves onto his chest. His last glance catches the eye of a female enforcer before he turns his back and disappears into the smoke.

     Those who survived the battle flee back to the Undercity. This is as quiet as it has ever been. So many cower in dimly lit corners or hide away under crates near the buildings. The haunting sounds of anguished cries echo throughout the streets. Too many have been lost to the war. It sends chills up Mayve's spine.  She stays as close to her brother as possible, not wanting to be separated from him for the second time. The first time was scary enough.

     They make it back to The Last Drop with haste.

     A few others enter through the front doors and none say anything to Vander, escaping to the booths along the walls to recover for the time being. Sevika is one of them. She holds her arm to her side, sweating from the pain shooting across her sore muscles. Mayve quickly walks over to the woman, noticing how strange the cradled arm looks compared to the other.

     "You've dislocated your shoulder. I need to set it." Mayve knows that the last thing Sevika wants is to be touched, especially with the amount of pain she's in. However, it won't go away if her arm remains like this.

     "Just do it." Sevika prepares herself, not ready for what comes next. She can't help but cry out as Mayve grabs her arm and lifts it. With some strain and struggle, the arm is set and Sevika is flooded with relief. She sags onto the table, ready to pass out.

     Vander sets the exhausted children down and leaves the room, but not before dropping his gloves on the floor. The jarring sound of hard metal hitting wood is enough to reverberate through everyone's chests, a reminder of the battle they all had the fortune of surviving through. Not so many were lucky.

     Mayve guides the siblings over to one of the tables near the bar and checks them for wounds. They only seem to be in shock. The youngest still clutches to her older sister, her knuckles turning white from her strong grip. They are covered in dirt, sweat, and tears.

     Vander returns with all the supplies he has. They aren't much, but they're enough. He treats his sister first.  The swollen bruise on her cheek, her split lip, her bloody knuckles, and this isn't even the worst of it. Her adrenaline high begins to crash just as soon as the needle pierces the sensitive skin of her forehead. Her eyes water. Vander's hands are gentle despite what they are known for. It hadn't occurred to Mayve that she has a major gash on her forehead. She didn't remember how she got it. It will scar surely.

     Mayve, after Vander finished sewing her up, checked her brother's wounds. He has a multitude of bruises and a few cuts on his face, but no other visible injuries. For certain, he has more hidden injuries than he's letting on.

     "I'm going to take the girls up to bed." Mayve finishes rubbing ointments onto Vander's colorful face. The blacks and blues truly bring out the bags under his eyes. It ages him more than it should.

     As Mayve takes the childrens' hands, her brother checks up on everyone who decided to take refuge in their bar. She follows the stairs to a room with bunk beds. They are from when her and Vander were kids. It seems like a lifetime ago.

     Despite there being enough beds for both siblings, the sisters share one not yet ready to leave each other's sides.

     "My room is just down the hall if either of you need something." Mayve left it at that, closing their bedroom door behind her.

     Mayve's bed is a welcomed relief. Her muscles relax to the best of their ability as she relaxes back on the lumpy mattress. Part of her thought she would never live to see another day after the battle broke out. It was more bloody and gruesome than she had imagined, and it went south faster than most could comprehend.

     Treasonous tears fall from Mayve's eyes, the saltiness stings only a little. They are still irritated from the smoke cloud on the bridge, but the pain is nothing compared to what she experienced not moments ago. The tears are warm against her cheeks. She brushes it away, her thoughts now consumed by the two girls taking residence in her old room.

     As a result of the war, countless lives have been lost. What Mayve has yet to discover is that she will be a mother of two daughters in the days to come.