Figurehead

nineteen

I wake to chaos.

It fills my vision, my ears, my nose, and I wish it didn't. I wish I couldn't hear the screams, the frantic shouts and calling of names, the hurried speech stumbling over itself. Wish I couldn't see in the darkness of the freezing night- the lanterns, the faces twisted and distorted in horror, in disgust, in shock, in pain, in grief, in rage. Wish I couldn't smell blood, blood, blood, death, sweat, vomit and everything else all at once.

I roll painfully onto my side and empty whatever was in my stomach. All I can really do is retch, stomach heaving while my eyes blur with tears from the effort.

Dein. The thought forces me upright, despite the aching of my muscles and the pulsing and throbbing pain that encircles my neck. I don't dare bring my hand up to touch it. I can feel dirt, dried sweat and blood both dried and fresh all over my exposed skin, and beneath my clothes.

Where is he? I can't turn my head. And in the dark, it's hard to tell the living unconscious from the dead. But what I can see when I manage to stand, legs shaking, is that people are beginning to be arranged into rows, healers walking between them, seeing if there are any still living. One catches sight of me and rushes to stand before me, hands hovering. "Where do you hurt?"

I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. "All over," I croak.

He looks me up and down. "Kla, take her into the palace," he calls to one of the others, and she comes, eyes wide, eyebrows raised at seeing someone who was so obviously caught in this mess actually standing.

"I can't- I can't find-" I break off as she starts ushering me towards the palace steps.

"Here, eat this." She hands me something I can't see properly in the dark, and I obey. She's a healer. But if she wants me dead, then I die. Fine. So be it. I don't have the energy to fight over such a simple instruction. "Can you walk up these?" Kla asks, looking at my legs.

"Yes." I can't nod.

It begins to snow, and her eyes squeeze shut briefly before re-opening. "What were you trying to say earlier?" she asks, glancing back at the battlefield before returning her attention to me.

I can't shake my head. "Where-" a breath of a groan catches in my throat as my knees buckle beneath me, and a wave of exhaustion hits. "I'm fine," I whisper, but who am I trying to convince? I force myself to keep walking without her assistance. She hovers around me, eyebrows creased, but doesn't say anything until we reach the palace entrance.

"Take her to the others," the healer orders one of the guards, just as my eyes flicker to a close and I'm falling, falling..