Daughter to Dragons- a Skyrim inspired fantasy

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

“Is she awake?”

“Back up, give her some room.”

Ugh.  Everything throbbed.  Everywhere hurt.

“Is she dead?”

Flashes of pain raced through every limb.  Bright lights pulsated behind closed lids.

 “She ain’t dead, you fool.”

“Get away from her!”

A moan slipped through my lips.  Even those reverberations hurt my chest.  My throat was tight and dry.  It felt like I had been screaming for hours upon hours.

“She’s awake!  Get her some water!”

Warm hands pressed against my cheeks.  I knew I should try to open my eyes, but I didn’t want to.  It would only hurt if I did.

“Amelsa, I need you to wake up.”  That voice sounded so familiar.  It sounded like someone who owed me something.  “We can’t keep carrying you around like this.”

“I got some water!”

“Give it to me,” the familiar voice snapped.  I felt something pressed against my lips.  A few drops of cool water trickled into my dry lips.  “Drink, Amelsa.”

I moaned again as the water wet my mouth.  It was less painful this time.  When my mouth was full, I swallowed, pushing all that dust and dirt caked in my throat down.  The dirt grabbed a hold of my throat.  I sputtered, choking on the filthy water.  I lurched up, coughing into the dirt.

Then the pain hit.

I would have screamed had the pain not been so great.  Bright spots clouded my vision.  The pumping of blood blotted out all other sounds.  I ground my teeth together, trying to overcome it.

“Do any of you have a healing potion?” asked the familiar voice.  “Nobody?  Really?”  He muttered something under his breath—I couldn’t hear.  Something about stupid bandits perhaps.  “Go find me some blue mountain flowers, imp stools, and rock warbler eggs.  Go, now!”

A warm, tingling sensation washed over me, radiating through my chest.  Warm tendrils enveloped my lungs, pushing away the pain.  I could breathe again without the throbbing pain.  My eyes fluttered open.  A dull grey light was settling over the world.  A dark shade loomed over me, peering down at me with its dark eyes.

I swallowed, my throat constricting with every muscle movement.  “Rhythe?” I choked out.

“By Sithis,” he hissed.  “You’re awake.  I didn’t know if you were going to pull through or not, Amelsa.”  The shade came into focus.  It was Rhythe, all right.  I’d recognize that mussed hair anywhere.

I mustered up a weak smile.  “You called me Amelsa.  I almost forgot you knew my name.”

He snorted, shaking his head.  “I think you’re going to be fine, Dragontooth.”  He pushed himself up then grabbed my hands, pulling me up alongside him.  My head went light as my vision went black.  I felt my knees give out from under me.  I would have fallen had a pair of arms not caught me by the waist.  My arms instinctively went around his neck.  “You okay there, Dargontooth?”

The black receded to the edges of my vision.  I nodded, planting my feet firmly on the ground.  I ran a hand through the tangled skeevers’ nest that I called my hair.  “I think so.  I still want that healing potion though.”  His arms lingered around me for just a moment before he let go.  I took a look at my garb—still the same from the battle with the Forsworn.  By the Nine, I couldn’t remember anything that happened after that.  “Rhythe, what happened?  How did we end up here?”