Heroine

- Rune the Mage -

A young man with a cloak sat, tending to a young woman with short, white hair. He had found her with an arrow through her chest, and had taken her back to his camp in the woods.

He had broken the arrow and pulled it out as cleanly as he could. He was just in the process of putting the girl's shirt back on her-he had mended it-when she woke up, shooting up, quickly becoming face level with, and only a few inches away from, the man's warm, motherly smile. Blood would've risen to her face had she not just lost so much, of that she was certain. His features were soft, warm-not too manly, but he was certainly handsome, if not slightly wild looking, from what she could tell.

He chuckled in a low voice, as calm as the ocean on a clear day. "Awake, I see, my dear."

She scurried back away a bit, and, hit with the sudden recollection of what had happened before she collapsed, brought her left hand up to feel at her chest. Not finding any holes in her clothes or person, she let out a breath of relief she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and she saw the strange man frown.

"Don't mistake," he said, a bitter taste in his mouth for saying it, "you did die, my dear. You did, and yet.... Explanations are for a bit further into the future, child. Now is the time for introductions." He brought up a hand as if to remove his hood, but hesitated, and put down his hand, shaking his head. "I'm afraid I can't show you my face," he said, something sad in his voice, "but you wouldn't be happy with it anyway." He paused a moment and extended his hand to her. "You may call me Rune. I am Rune the Mage."

She looked at him incredulously. "Explanations're for later!?" she growled out. "Later.... I guess I've got time now, now that..." her voice lowered to its usual volume. "Sethra Rain. The Blood-hunter." She looked at his hand hesitantly for a moment before reciprocating the gesture.

The man spoke inquisitively, "Rain? ...Did you lose your family?" It was tradition in the Kingdom for second names to be nature-based, and were only used as surnames if one were disowned, or other extreme cases, such as having no living relatives.

The girl lowered her head a bit, her short hair doing nothing to cover the downcast look on her face. She spoke, her mouth dry, "Yeah. I'd just avenged their death before...," she brought her hand back up to her chest.

The man smiled sympathetically before speaking. "At least you are familiar with the act." She looked at him as if he were telling her the sky isn't blue. He continued. "First, you may want to examine your left arm." She jumped a little, looking at her arm from fingertip to almost her shoulder before she saw what the man was referring to; some sort of...marking, a tattoo, in a woven looking pattern. She scratched at it furiously to no avail, until the man reached out and grabbed her gently by the wrist. She looked up at him, and for a moment felt the heat in her cheeks rising, and tore her arm away, trying to look at him like he was mad for stopping her, but failing, instead giving him a simply...lost sort of look.

"What's it now?" she asked, sounding thoroughly exhausted.

"You don't want to do that," he began his voice solemn. "...This might me a bit hard to take, but I would appreciate it greatly if you would sit quietly for me." He paused, sitting back up finally, and drew in a long breath. "Yes, you see. I told you already that you did, in fact, die. I also informed you earlier that I am a mage. I found you dead in the valley...removed the arrow, and healed your wound. I could tell you were...ah, fresh, and that your death was unclean. I could still see remnants of your spirit lingering around, and it was red - the color of passion. I knew you would be up to the task. That's the act - revenge. That is the game you must play. Find whoever killed you by the time four seasons pass and end him - and your soul will be at peace." She had a slightly lost look on her face, and not being able to find her voice, rubbed her hand gently over the marking on her arm. "Yes, that.... This is the...hardest part...to get out...," he hummed for a moment, his eyes closed. "Right. Well. Once the four seasons are up, it'll disappear.... However, if that happens, you'll be wiped into oblivion - nonexistence," he finished, his voice barely above a whisper and his eyes, locked onto hers, held an intense look of almost menacing concern.