15th of Ash, 120
As though he'd warped, Arkash woke. A heavy veil of torpor laid over his eyes, one that he could not easily shake or pierce. It was as though his mind waded through a deep, warm bog. Even the air he breathed felt all too thick, as though it filled his lungs with more ease than he was familiar with. Why was it so hard to breathe? Just meeting half his capacity hurt. His limbs were stiff, almost like stone with how unyielding they were to his will. His breathing turned ragged, raspy.
He could barely hear himself through a muffled distortion of the world around him. There was a distinct rumble far away, one which only grew lighter and more clear with every second that passed. Soon enough, it became clear that it wasn't a rumble, but more of a chorus of chirps and squeaks that rattled against the far walls of... wherever he was. The soft crackle of fire sounded beside him; he could feel its warmth.
For a moment or two, it almost felt as though he was curled up beside the hearth of his home in Lower Nivenhain, but the smell was wrong. They weren't burning wood from the forests; it was coal in their fire. Despite the warmth of the flame, the air smelled damp, wet, moldy... The sound of dripping accompanied the scent and Arkash finally parted his jaws to exhale the rotten stench in his lungs.
His mouth was dry, so dry that he couldn't feel or taste anything with his tongue. The two-pronged organ moved about in his maw and bumped against the strange textures of the roof of his mouth. It almost hurt, but the sensation was so alien that Arkash couldn't help but explore it, perhaps in search of some spit to dampen his tongue? He found none. As his jaw shut and his serrated teeth wove with each other, he found an uncomfortable tightness on the left side of his head, one that pulled at his lip and forced it to curl up as if he snarled.
Finally, his right eye opened, and he found the fabric of a pillow, stained with yellow and brown. His surroundings were unfamiliar; dark, desolate, broken... Some sort of abandoned building? His breathing picked up and he found himself with strain on his healing lungs. A hard, body-jerking cough saw him sputter and sit up. He tried to move his dominant right arm to cover his mouth, but it was caught on something. Arkash looked with his right eye and found a shackle that chained him to the iron railing of the bed he laid upon.
His left arm had no such constraints, and he lifted it to touch his face... but nothing came. At the sensation of reaching through his own head, Arkash looked to the limb and found a bandaged stump a couple of inches down from the elbow. He froze and stared in disbelief. His arm was gone. There was nothing there. His claws, his hand, his wrist, it was all gone. The young rathari began to tremble, then flexed the arm a little. At his command, it moved. It was real.
"No..." he choked a quiet, shriveled whisper. "Please, no..." the lizard wheezed and parted his maw as he shut his right eye. His head thrummed with a crippling migraine from the dehydration and stress as it was. He had no tears to cry, and going through the motions only boomed pain in his head. He breathed ragged and deep as he looked about the room. It was some sort of abandoned lumbering warehouse. He'd worked in one of them alongside hollows in the few years prior to that day, but that specific warehouse was unfamiliar.
His weary eye fell on the shackle again, and he pulled. It didn't take much for him to feel the strain on his muscles and bones. He was... Suddenly so much weaker, everything was heavy and stiff, slow, exhausting. A look at his legs revealed exactly what he'd feared; they were barely more than scale and bone. Hesitantly, he flexed his toe-claws. It took some effort, but he managed to clasp them. What could he do? He was trapped, alone, and broken.
That was to say, he thought he was alone. The moment he loosed a worn, raspy cry for help, a warm hand met his left shoulder. Arkash froze momentarily, then tried to turn his whole body to the left to put the person in his field of view, but the muscles in his back were too tight. He bared his teeth and strained to move before a second hand met his other shoulder, and pulled him back down with ease. His back met the stained bedding and forced a grunt from his lips.
He didn't have the strength to resist, trying left him breathless. So, he succumbed to the will of whoever held him down. "Take it easy," spoke a familiar voice in common. "You're still healing. You're only hurting yourself."
Arkash furrowed his brow. He knew the voice; it was the argent that visited him in his home. "Help me..." he wheezed, then turned his head to the right to get a look of the giant winged man. Sure enough, 'Valris' stood there, looking down at him. The sight of the argent somehow put him at ease, even though they weren't meant to look after nameless. For some reason, Valris was.
"You sound thirsty," spoke a different voice to his left. With a sharp inhale, the lizard snapped his gaze to the source and found the pale-skinned woman sat beside him. "Here," she instructed and moved a cup to his lips. "It's water, drink up."
He should have been terrified, afraid for his life. Sat beside him was the woman who cut up and murdered two thugs in an alley with little effort. And there she was, offering him a drink. What could he do but accept? Arkash was incredibly thirsty, regardless of whether or not an incredibly strong murderer was offering him the drink. So, he parted his lips as she brought the drink closer, shut his eye, and tilted his head back to guide the water down as she poured it. It barely touched the sides, but managed to soak his uncomfortably dry mouth.
After he'd finished the cup, he coughed a little on the last few droplets to roll down his throat, then sputtered a weak "more, please..." in common. The woman looked above him, then nodded as she drew another cupful from a pale, then watered the lizard in the same way as she had first. He was still thirsty, but the two cups had done wonders for his throat and mouth. "Thanks..." he sighed in his common accent, and the lady bowed her head.
Arkash swallowed on his spit as it filled his maw, then shuddered as he exhaled. What came next? Why were they holding him? What happened to his arm? Why couldn't he see? Why was his left lip so tight? Where was he? How long had he been asleep? Where was Cojack? Cojack.
"I've gotta go," spoke the lizard firmly, then cleared his throat hard. The elf and the Avialae exchanged a look. "I told my dad I... I was gonna meet 'im in th' forest. I've gotta find 'im." Cojack could have been fine with the amount of money Arkash left him with. Cojack would have found a way, he must have.
"Arkash..." Started the argent, "everything's fine. You were out for a while, you need to take it slow. We'll find your-."
"-Stop..." Warned the lizard, who tried to pull against the argent's grip, but only found an immovable obstacle. "Get off oF ME-!" he choked on his roar and pulled against his restraint. He swung at the argent with the nonexistent claws of his left arm only to find his arm in an iron grip before it was also pinned to the bed. Everything hurt, his head felt as though it was going to explode, but he continued to thrash and fight like a cornered animal. He screamed, roared, and hissed as he dove his jaws at his captors.
"CALM DOWN!" bellowed the pale lady, who gripped his muzzle with both hands, and held it shut. With his jaw secure, she effortlessly continued her vice-like hold with one hand and moved her other to hold his stump down while the argent held his shoulders in place. Arkash continued to thrash and failed his legs in protest before she moved his head to look her in the eye. "Enough." She warned and bared her own fangs in a blatant threat.
Arkash's only eye fell on her primal threat, and his thrashing slowed to a halt. He continued to stare at her a moment longer, and the pain began to set it. His lips trembled in her grasp, then his breathing turned ragged and broken as he sniffled and sobbed. Broken and defeated, he began to cry.
As though he'd warped, Arkash woke. A heavy veil of torpor laid over his eyes, one that he could not easily shake or pierce. It was as though his mind waded through a deep, warm bog. Even the air he breathed felt all too thick, as though it filled his lungs with more ease than he was familiar with. Why was it so hard to breathe? Just meeting half his capacity hurt. His limbs were stiff, almost like stone with how unyielding they were to his will. His breathing turned ragged, raspy.
He could barely hear himself through a muffled distortion of the world around him. There was a distinct rumble far away, one which only grew lighter and more clear with every second that passed. Soon enough, it became clear that it wasn't a rumble, but more of a chorus of chirps and squeaks that rattled against the far walls of... wherever he was. The soft crackle of fire sounded beside him; he could feel its warmth.
For a moment or two, it almost felt as though he was curled up beside the hearth of his home in Lower Nivenhain, but the smell was wrong. They weren't burning wood from the forests; it was coal in their fire. Despite the warmth of the flame, the air smelled damp, wet, moldy... The sound of dripping accompanied the scent and Arkash finally parted his jaws to exhale the rotten stench in his lungs.
His mouth was dry, so dry that he couldn't feel or taste anything with his tongue. The two-pronged organ moved about in his maw and bumped against the strange textures of the roof of his mouth. It almost hurt, but the sensation was so alien that Arkash couldn't help but explore it, perhaps in search of some spit to dampen his tongue? He found none. As his jaw shut and his serrated teeth wove with each other, he found an uncomfortable tightness on the left side of his head, one that pulled at his lip and forced it to curl up as if he snarled.
Finally, his right eye opened, and he found the fabric of a pillow, stained with yellow and brown. His surroundings were unfamiliar; dark, desolate, broken... Some sort of abandoned building? His breathing picked up and he found himself with strain on his healing lungs. A hard, body-jerking cough saw him sputter and sit up. He tried to move his dominant right arm to cover his mouth, but it was caught on something. Arkash looked with his right eye and found a shackle that chained him to the iron railing of the bed he laid upon.
His left arm had no such constraints, and he lifted it to touch his face... but nothing came. At the sensation of reaching through his own head, Arkash looked to the limb and found a bandaged stump a couple of inches down from the elbow. He froze and stared in disbelief. His arm was gone. There was nothing there. His claws, his hand, his wrist, it was all gone. The young rathari began to tremble, then flexed the arm a little. At his command, it moved. It was real.
"No..." he choked a quiet, shriveled whisper. "Please, no..." the lizard wheezed and parted his maw as he shut his right eye. His head thrummed with a crippling migraine from the dehydration and stress as it was. He had no tears to cry, and going through the motions only boomed pain in his head. He breathed ragged and deep as he looked about the room. It was some sort of abandoned lumbering warehouse. He'd worked in one of them alongside hollows in the few years prior to that day, but that specific warehouse was unfamiliar.
His weary eye fell on the shackle again, and he pulled. It didn't take much for him to feel the strain on his muscles and bones. He was... Suddenly so much weaker, everything was heavy and stiff, slow, exhausting. A look at his legs revealed exactly what he'd feared; they were barely more than scale and bone. Hesitantly, he flexed his toe-claws. It took some effort, but he managed to clasp them. What could he do? He was trapped, alone, and broken.
That was to say, he thought he was alone. The moment he loosed a worn, raspy cry for help, a warm hand met his left shoulder. Arkash froze momentarily, then tried to turn his whole body to the left to put the person in his field of view, but the muscles in his back were too tight. He bared his teeth and strained to move before a second hand met his other shoulder, and pulled him back down with ease. His back met the stained bedding and forced a grunt from his lips.
He didn't have the strength to resist, trying left him breathless. So, he succumbed to the will of whoever held him down. "Take it easy," spoke a familiar voice in common. "You're still healing. You're only hurting yourself."
Arkash furrowed his brow. He knew the voice; it was the argent that visited him in his home. "Help me..." he wheezed, then turned his head to the right to get a look of the giant winged man. Sure enough, 'Valris' stood there, looking down at him. The sight of the argent somehow put him at ease, even though they weren't meant to look after nameless. For some reason, Valris was.
"You sound thirsty," spoke a different voice to his left. With a sharp inhale, the lizard snapped his gaze to the source and found the pale-skinned woman sat beside him. "Here," she instructed and moved a cup to his lips. "It's water, drink up."
He should have been terrified, afraid for his life. Sat beside him was the woman who cut up and murdered two thugs in an alley with little effort. And there she was, offering him a drink. What could he do but accept? Arkash was incredibly thirsty, regardless of whether or not an incredibly strong murderer was offering him the drink. So, he parted his lips as she brought the drink closer, shut his eye, and tilted his head back to guide the water down as she poured it. It barely touched the sides, but managed to soak his uncomfortably dry mouth.
After he'd finished the cup, he coughed a little on the last few droplets to roll down his throat, then sputtered a weak "more, please..." in common. The woman looked above him, then nodded as she drew another cupful from a pale, then watered the lizard in the same way as she had first. He was still thirsty, but the two cups had done wonders for his throat and mouth. "Thanks..." he sighed in his common accent, and the lady bowed her head.
Arkash swallowed on his spit as it filled his maw, then shuddered as he exhaled. What came next? Why were they holding him? What happened to his arm? Why couldn't he see? Why was his left lip so tight? Where was he? How long had he been asleep? Where was Cojack? Cojack.
"I've gotta go," spoke the lizard firmly, then cleared his throat hard. The elf and the Avialae exchanged a look. "I told my dad I... I was gonna meet 'im in th' forest. I've gotta find 'im." Cojack could have been fine with the amount of money Arkash left him with. Cojack would have found a way, he must have.
"Arkash..." Started the argent, "everything's fine. You were out for a while, you need to take it slow. We'll find your-."
"-Stop..." Warned the lizard, who tried to pull against the argent's grip, but only found an immovable obstacle. "Get off oF ME-!" he choked on his roar and pulled against his restraint. He swung at the argent with the nonexistent claws of his left arm only to find his arm in an iron grip before it was also pinned to the bed. Everything hurt, his head felt as though it was going to explode, but he continued to thrash and fight like a cornered animal. He screamed, roared, and hissed as he dove his jaws at his captors.
"CALM DOWN!" bellowed the pale lady, who gripped his muzzle with both hands, and held it shut. With his jaw secure, she effortlessly continued her vice-like hold with one hand and moved her other to hold his stump down while the argent held his shoulders in place. Arkash continued to thrash and failed his legs in protest before she moved his head to look her in the eye. "Enough." She warned and bared her own fangs in a blatant threat.
Arkash's only eye fell on her primal threat, and his thrashing slowed to a halt. He continued to stare at her a moment longer, and the pain began to set it. His lips trembled in her grasp, then his breathing turned ragged and broken as he sniffled and sobbed. Broken and defeated, he began to cry.
