From the Ruins

Chapter Nine: "Under Her Skin"

 The young soldier awoke to the sound of muffled music and the gentle crackling of a small fire. He couldn't feel the harsh metal of his armour irritating his skin like it normally did. Nor could he feel the biting winds of the mines.
 

"The Mines! They're gone. Where am I?" He thought. He shot up from the bed he laid in while the memories came back.

They had walked for two days straight before he collapsed. He could see the Descendant's extended ears flinch as his knees hit the snow-covered ground. She was crouching before him as he fell unconscious.

"Calm down, you are still weak" he heard a quiet voice say from the other side of the room where the fire was located. It was heavily accented like her tongue was never supposed to try and form the words of his language.

She sat there with her back to him while sitting on the floor in front of the small fire. Her posture rigged, trying to look relax. Her daggers were stilled strapped to her thigh, the short swords across her back. However, her hood and mask and mask were both pulled down. He could not look away from the marks that crawled across her skin. At first, he thought the marks were scars, from the many battles he heard whispers of her being a part of. Then he thought they were tattoos like the ones he saw on the captured pirate that was brought to the camp.

She looked over her shoulder at him and he knew they were much different then he thought. The curving and purposeful lines laid under her skin. The pattern going down from her hairline to her chin then down her neck resembled the jewels on a dagger. But the lines going across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose looked like letters that no longer existed. They moved with her but there was something wrong, something off. His eyes refused to focus on them as they buzzed under her skin. His head and heart hurt as he tried to make sense of them, as his mind tried to form words he was too young and inexperienced to know.

"Stop trying to understand them, these runes are not for... your kind." Her voice grew harder the longer he stared. He instantly looks away, busying himself with trying to spot his sword, armour, and the hidden dagger he had tied to his ankle in the dimly lit room.

"Where are we?" He hoped the question would distract her from his searching eyes.

"Halfway to Nasdi," she said as she turned back around to face the fire she had her small and bony hands held up to, "Your dagger is under your pillow."

"Can you read my mind then?" he replied. He lifted the pillow and there lied his dagger.

"No, but I can hear the quickness of your breathing and feel the shifting of your eyes." He nodded but did not fully believe what she was saying.

"Where are my sword and armour?"

"I sold them." Her reply was accompanied by a confused expression and slight head tilt like she did not understand how he did not assume that already. "The coins for your sword got us this room until you regained consciousness. The coins for your armour got us supplies for the rest of our journey. Basic necessities."