*** I think I got Legolas' eyes wrong in this story. I said that he has brown eyes (because Orlando Bloom has brown eyes), but in the movie he wears blue contact lenses, doesn't he? I'm not sure. However, this is my story, and "my" Legolas has brown eyes. I hope things are clear now.
Riley: Don't worry, I don't find your reviews boring at all! Please keep on telling me what you think.
Acacia wants more Boromir, Sarahduck wants more Aerilyn... I have good news for you: This chapter features them both! Yay! Hope everybody enjoys. ***
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Boromir waited for hours, but nothing happened. Finally sleep came over him and he only woke up again when he heard the door to his cell being unlocked. He hurried to get on his feet and quickly approached the source of the noise, forcing his body to ignore the overwhelming tiredness and unbearable pains. But before he reached the door he stood paralyzed, clenching his teeth in despair. No words could ever express the disappointment he felt the moment he discovered that it wasn't his young helper who had come to unlock his cell.
"So eager to come with us?" one of the two men asked with an evil grin, referring to Boromir's swift movement towards them. The man from Gondor didn't reply but silently backed away again when his abductors came closer, but of course there was no way to escape and only minutes later he found himself in another room. He was lying on a table, front side down, wrists tied together behind his back. Two men to either of his sides made sure he remained in place and didn't attempt to get up or even flee.
"I'm going to ask you one last time," the group's leader explained to his maltreated victim. "Answer the questions or somebody is going to die a very painful death."
Boromir couldn't help grinning faintly, causing his enemy to slap him across the face.
"Don't grin at me like that! Besides, do you really think it's so funny to die?"
"Do you really think your threats have the slightest effect on me?" Boromir asked back with a low, hoarse voice. "You threatened to kill me already twice, but I am still alive. Do you seriously think I fear you will act out your threats now? No, I'm not afraid of your words. You lost your credibility."
"Boromir, Boromir," the leader said with a soft sigh and shook his head. "You must learn to not be so self-centered. The world does not revolve only around you."
Boromir raised his head a bit to be able to look at his abductor's face, furrowing his brows when he saw the cold smile on the man's face that predicted nothing good.
"Who said it was you who is going to be killed?" The leader straightened up and gave a sign to one of his men. "Bring him out!"
The last glimpse of hope that had been in Boromir's heart died away when he saw how two men dragged Ralvan into the room, placing him a few feet in front of the table Boromir was lying on. The young man was tied up too and pure dread was showing on his face.
"If you speak we will let him live," the leader said calmly, "But if you refuse to spit out what we want to know, you will watch your little friend die."
He gave one of the men that had gotten hold of Ralvan a sign and he pressed a dagger against the young neck, pricking the skin slightly until a few drops of blood trickled down his throat. Boromir saw the panic in the young man's eyes, the sweat of pure dread that arose on his face.
"He's not my friend," Boromir replied, his voice emotionless and monotone.
"Is he not?" the leader asked and raised an eyebrow. "Do you believe we are stupid enough to let this unpredictable, foolish boy run around in this dungeon without keeping an eye on him all the time? And I mean all the time."
When Boromir didn't respond, his opponent continued to speak, his voice mocking Boromir.
"We can flee together... I will protect you... I promise I will take you with me to Gondor..." His dark eyes narrowed and he squatted down again to see his prisoner directly in the face. "Now, does this not sound familiar to you?"
"I know not what you mean," Boromir stated stubbornly.
"Liar!" A second slap hit Boromir's face, harder this time. "Why won't you admit it? We know that you were planning to flee with the help of this dirty brat, so don't pretend that he doesn't mean anything to you! Tell us what we want to know and he will live..."
"I will not tell you anything, no matter how gruesome your threats are," Boromir said and shifted his gaze to Ralvan, his eyes expressing a silent and desperate apology.
"Are you aware that it will be your fault that a young life will be taken in a few seconds?"
"I will not tell you anything," Boromir repeated determined and shifted his gaze to the ground again, not being able to stand Ralvan's begging stare any longer. The leader of the group looked to his companions and gave a short nod. Boromir winced slightly and closed his eyes when he heard a scream full of pain that echoed through the dungeons.
"Look at him!" the leader yelled, firmly grabbed Boromir's head and turned his face towards Ralvan whose face had turned pale all over while bright red blood was spilling from a wound on the very left of his neck. The blade that still stuck in the young flesh had penetrated only few inches so far.
"He is not dead yet, Boromir. Don't you want to save him? Look closely! And then tell me if you really want to kill him!"
"You are killing him, not I!" Boromir yelled back, feeling guilt rising inside of his heart.
"But you could easily rescue his life! It's only one word, Boromir. One word or one number you have to say out loud. Trade your military knowledge for the life of an innocent boy. That is a fair deal, don't you think?"
"No..." Boromir said, his voice getting weaker. He felt the horrified expression in Ralvan's gaze pinning right through his heart and soul. The desperation in his eyes was hard to stand, but Boromir knew he just couldn't give in. He wished he could save Ralvan, but it was not possible. The wellbeing of his people was of highest priority. He could not risk it only to safe the life of a single boy, nor his own life.
"Say it, Boromir!"
"No! Shut up!" Boromir yelled back desperately.
"Say it or we will slaughter this boy just like we did the girl who was with you in the woods the other day!"
The words hit Boromir harder than any bash ever could. The horror must be written all across his face, revealing the pain he felt, as an evil, satisfied grin spread on the leader's face.
"It was really a pity. She was so sweet, young and beautiful," he continued, the grin growing even wider.
"You bastard! What did you do to her?!" Boromir screamed out of his mind. He attempted to get of the table in order to throw himself onto his opponent, but strong hands grabbed him and violently forced him back into position. Boromir clenched his teeth, breathing heavily with rage.
"She tried to run away, but of course she had no chance. She begged for her life. Please, she cried, please let me go. But I didn't. I killed the sweet little thing with your dagger, Boromir. And believe me, it was a most painful and very slow death."
"No!" Boromir yelled, tears welling in his eyes.
"Oh yes, and she deserved it! She was not only a spoiled, sniveling brat, but also a lecherous whore who was unable to curb her immoral lust!"
"Don't you dare talk about her like that!" Boromir screamed furiously.
"But I only say the truth. We saw you, Boromir. We saw her opening her legs for you, and while we prepared for our attack you mounted her... We were there all the time. We witnessed everything. "
"I will kill you," Boromir pressed the words out between gritted teeth, his eyes reflecting nothing but pure hate. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. How could this be? How could he not have noticed that they had been observed all the time? Had he been so much caught up in their lovemaking that his warrior instincts and senses had failed him? What a downfall, what a shame...
"I will kill you, of that you can be certain," Boromir repeated, his voice low but threatening. The leader laughed softly.
"Yes, of course you will," he said sarcastically and rose on his feet. "But it's my turn to draw some blood first," he replied and gave his companion another signal.
"Please, no..." Ralvan sobbed, his voice sore and husky as his neck was injured, "I didn't do anything... Please."
But there was no mercy. Boromir watched in horror how the dagger that stuck in the side of Ralvan's neck was forced through the soft flesh, cutting the full length of the boy's throat. The young man's eyes widened in pain and he tried to gasp, but he could not. The blood was everywhere, choking him and creating a red mess on his clothes and the ground. Boromir closed his eyes and a second later heard how the lifeless body of the boy fell to the ground.
"I guess I regained my credibility, no?" the leader asked coldly and then stepped closer to the table, his hands clutching Boromir's dirty, soaked shirt.
"Hand me the knife!" he commanded and with one strong movement ripped the expensive fabric apart, revealing Boromir's bare and bruised back.
"I ask you a last time: How many soldiers are there to defend Gondor?!"
Boromir did not respond.
"How many?!" the voice yelled furiously. When he still didn't say a word cold metal was starting to prick on Boromir's bare back.
"This time we won't be as gentle with you as the last times, do you understand?"
The sharp blade cut his flesh deeply, parting it as if it was softer than warm butter. Boromir clenched his teeth to suppress any noise of pain. His jaw was aching so badly, it felt as if his teeth would start cracking every second. Hot blood slowly flowed down his sides in thick lines.
"How many?!"
Boromir did not know how often they had asked him already. He had stopped counting, like he had stopped counting the bashes, cuts, kicks,... A second long cut was made from his left shoulder blade down his back, parallel to his aching spinal column. A shivering whimper filled the room and it took Boromir some time to realize that this whining sound came from his own throat.
"Hand me the salt," he heard his torturer say coldly. Boromir felt panic growing in his stomach and he tried to wind out of his torturers' hands, but there was not even a tiny chance of escaping the torments. And then he experienced pain so bad he hadn't known a human body could ever bear it. At first, he thought he would faint or maybe die, the overwhelming pain lay everything to sleep inside of him. He could not see, smell, taste, hear, breathe, speak, think. Nothing. There was only the pain, nothing else. He fought the darkness that surrounded him and numbed his senses, but when he was successful with escaping the stupor and everything came back he suddenly wished he had fallen unconscious indeed. A noise broke from him so violent in nature that it could not be described as a simple scream. He instinctively tried to move away, but strong hands held him in position and the torture continued. Soon he was too weak to make any attempt to defend himself. He just lay on the table, paralyzed, his whole body numb with pain. He couldn't move at all, not even his lips, and he felt the thick mixture of blood and saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth on the hard wooden surface of the table, merging with salty tears that came from his eyes. He couldn't remember when he had cried the last time in his life, and he was ashamed that these hideous, evil-hearted creatures had managed to draw tears from him, a tough, proud and strong warrior. At last he had to admit that the leader of the abductors had been right. He had indeed demolished Boromir's strength.
Boromir gasped when he was dragged from the table and flung to the cold, hard ground. He struggled hard to get control over his body, but finally he managed to shift himself into a kneeling position. If he was going to die, he wouldn't do so lying with his face down.
"Do you have a last wish, Boromir of Gondor?" the leader asked and outstretched the blade of his sword to Boromir's direction until the tip bored into the ripped remains of Boromir's shirt.
"Then speak now, for you will be silenced in only a short moment!" With that he pulled the sword back again, tearing the clothes from Boromir's maltreated body. The abductors eyes narrowed when his gaze captured the necklace that hung from Boromir's neck and he approached, squatting down to have a closer look. A smile spread on his rugged face when he eyed the many tiny jewels and gems that were sparkling in the light of the torches that illuminated the room. His grin grew even wider when he turned the amulet around and saw the fine engraving on the backside.
"Aw, how sweet!" he stated loudly, causing the other men to join his laughter, "It's a necklace that once belonged to his mother Finduilas... How heartrending."
"You surprise me," Boromir whispered exhaustedly, "I didn't think you could read."
Boromir felt a wave of satisfaction washing through himself when he saw the baffled and angry expression in the leader's eyes. He had managed to make him speechless for a second, maybe even hurt him a bit. It was only a small triumph, but it felt good. Boromir smirked. The back of the leader's hand hit his face so hard that his head flew to the side and the blood that had gathered in his mouth burst past his lips and collided with the nearby wall. But the faint, satisfied smile was still there when Boromir turned his face back towards the abductor.
"You will regret that!" the leader yelled once he had found his tongue again and abruptly ripped the necklace from Boromir's neck.
"Give it back to me!" Boromir said aggressively, piercing the other man's eyes with a sharp gaze. His opponent stuffed the necklace in a pocket of his clothes and returned Boromir's icy stare.
"Your mother is lucky she died when you were only a small boy," he said, "Like this she didn't have to see her firstborn son grow to the cowardly weakling he is these days."
Boromir would have given anything to beat the life out of this man, but his shackles made it impossible to act out physical violence. And so he did the only thing he was able to do in the condition he was in. He spat at his opponent, the thick mixture of blood and saliva hitting the man exactly in the face.
"I should have killed you much earlier!" the leader pressed his words through clenched teeth while he wiped the sleeve of his shirt over his right eye to free it from the burning mixture. Boromir didn't shift his gaze to the ground when he saw the blade of the abductor's sword being raised over his head. He would get killed, yes... But he would get killed with his head up high, his eyes wide open and the knowledge that he had at least tried to fight them until the very end. He was much, but not a cowardly weakling.
The sword came down fast and powerful and a painful groan echoed in Boromir's ears. To his great confusion the sound of anguish did not come from his own throat and with huge surprise he realized that the burning pain caused by the blade throbbed only in his left upper arm. He was still alive...
He jerked when the leader of the abductors fell to his knees in front of him, his eyes expressing horror and pain. Boromir's eyes narrowed in confusion when he saw that an arrow penetrated his opponents throat. What was going on? Why would somebody of the others shoot his own leader? The same moment the leader's now dead body fell backwards, a gentle hand touched Boromir's shoulder. Boromir gasped and almost fell, but a man grabbed him carefully and held him, preventing him from hitting the ground.
"Aragorn?" Boromir asked in disbelief and blinked a few times to see past the blur.
"Yes, it's me. Don't worry, we will get you out of here," Aragorn whispered and captured Boromir's head in his hands once Boromir had his balance again.
"Legolas, Lord Atalar and your cousin are here as well. We will bring you back to Minas Tirith."
Boromir opened his mouth to speak, but Aragorn interrupted him quickly.
"Shhh," he whispered, gently wiping strands of blood-soaked hair from Boromir's bruised face, "Do not talk. We need to hurry. We managed to get rid of the men who were in this room quickly and silently, but it's only a matter of time until others will come and find out we are here to rescue you." Aragorn swallowed hard and then looked Boromir deep in the eyes, feeling his heart ache at the broken expression in the other man's gaze.
"You will be fine," Aragorn promised while he started to free Boromir's wrists. "I will get you out of here, and if it's the last thing I will do in my life. I will get you out of here."
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Aerilyn lay in her bed awake, rolling over and turning from one side to the other again and again in a desperate attempt to find a better sleeping position. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't come to stillness. Her thoughts revolved around nothing but Boromir and Atalar, hindering her from finding rest. The possibility of never seeing either of them again scared her more than anything. Atalar had been around her almost every day of her life, they had hardly
been separated from each other for longer than one or two days. It would have been hard for her to stay at Gondor while her brother returned to Katalla, but to not even have the chance to be gifted with a visit from him every now and then ripped her heart to pieces. The moment she learned of his death, that is if he was dead, a part of her would die away and nothing and nobody could ever bring it back to life, of that she was certain. She doubted that she would ever again laugh and smile if he really had been killed. No one would ever be able to soothe her and make the pain of the overwhelming loss go away. Atalar was not only her brother, he was her best, intimate friend, her protector, teacher, advisor, soulmate,… He was her everything. Nobody could ever replace him. Nobody. Not even Boromir.
Boromir… She loved him very much, but it was so different from what she felt for Atalar. She didn't even know this man of Gondor very well, and he didn't know her for real. Sure, they had spent time together and they had talked for hours, but it needed more than that to really get to know each other. Her strong feelings for him had developed almost out of nothing. They were just there, deep in her heart, and she couldn't describe them or reason why. The affection for him had sparked off in only few days while the devotion for her brother had grown and deepened for many, many years. But yet she loved both of them with emotions that rivaled each other in purity and ardor, and she felt like going insane if she had to be without either of them for one more single day.
With a low sigh full of sadness Aerilyn finally got out of her bed, quickly dressed and left the room silently. Maybe she would be able to fall asleep later on if she first went for a little walk instead of rolling around on the mattress for ages. She exited the building and inhaled deeply, breathing in the fresh and cool air of the chilly night. The streets were dark, silent and empty. Almost spooky. For a second Aerilyn hesitated to return to her chambers, but then she started moving and quickly made her way through the sleeping city. It didn't take long until she had to hide in the shades of a small archway in order to escape the vigilant eyes of a small group of
guards who were patrolling the privileged districts of Minas Tirith. She wasn't very fond of running into the arms of anybody who would bring her back to her safe rooms and report to her father that she had sneaked away, and so she waited for the guards to be out of hearing range again and quickly made her way to the huge gardens. Now as they were dark and deserted
the gardens seemed even bigger than they were anyway, but Aerilyn advanced deeper to the centers to be as far away as possible from the streets and the guards. She sat down on a wooden bench and drew her cloak closer around her when she started to shiver slightly. She sat for a long time thinking until she slowly began to doze off, her eyelids falling close against her will.
Maybe she would have fully fallen asleep here on this uncomfortable bench in the cold, but before she could find rest a sudden sound made her eyes shoot open again. She sat up, held her breath and waited. Just when she thought she only had dreamed, there it was again. A sound as if twigs were crushed and broken under a heavy step. Aerilyn jumped to her feet and quickly turned to the direction from where the noise had come.
"Hello?" she asked in a low voice that revealed her fear. Suddenly she wished she had indeed bumped into the guards instead of sneaking into the deserted gardens.
"Is anybody there?" she added and swallowed. Maybe it's just a hare or a squirrel, she tried to calm herself down. That's it, and tomorrow you will laugh about your cowardice...
The third sound was much closer and Aerilyn started to run out of reflex although she still clung to the idea that it was just a small animal that created those noises. This thought was ultimately destroyed when she realized that she didn't hear only her running feet hitting the ground but
also the heavy, very quick steps of somebody else. Aerilyn didn't dare to turn around, but she could easily tell that those steps were coming closer rapidly. She was being pursued. With a wail of dread and despair she let her cloak fall down, increasing her pace to the extreme. Without thinking she abruptly changed the direction she was heading for, crossed a small flowerbed and forced her body through a few bushes until she found herself surrounded by nothing but trees. Twigs cut her skin when she broke through them, urging herself through the narrow gaps between the trees, branches and bushes. But it had the effect she had hoped for, her chaser was left behind as he was too big to follow. When she realized the pursuer was not coming after her anymore, Aerilyn collapsed to the ground and remained lying there for a moment, trying to catch her breath. She couldn't believe what just had happened and struggled hard to keep back tears. Would this nightmare never end? It seemed as if somebody wanted her death, no matter what, and she had no idea why. Well, perhaps it wouldn't be that bad to get killed. If she indeed had lost both ardently beloved brother and fiancé she didn't want to go on with her own life anyway...
Don't cry, she told herself. Pull yourself together, you need to get back to your chambers or at least find the guards.
Slowly she made her way past the trees and bushes, careful to not suffer much more cuts and scratches. She just wondered how to explain the totally ruined dress to her father the next morning when she stumbled out of the trees and bushes and reached one of the many paths that led through the gardens. She had lost orientation and didn't know to which direction she should turn in order to find the shortest way out of here, but she was relieved to be on the path again and quickly snatched up her dress a bit so she could move faster. She had only managed to run a short distance when she was hit in the side by something very huge and was flung to the ground.
Driven by pure dread she was up on her feet running only in a split second, although her ankle had been strained by her fall and was hurting madly. The pain slowed her down greatly and a short moment later she was grabbed from behind and her desperate attempt to flee was proven futile. She wanted to scream, but a gloved hand quickly covered her mouth while a strong arm was wrapped roughly around her waist. She was lifted up with a swift, violent movement, her feet lost the ground and she couldn't breathe. Thrashing about in panic she tried to get free, but no matter how hard she moved, hit and kicked, her attacker's grip remained powerful and firm. He carried her away from the path, back to the deeper and hidden places of the gardens. Aerilyn
tried to bite his hand, but his gloves were made of thick leather and her efforts didn't affect him at all. She felt tears gathering in her eyes. This had to be a horrible nightmare. She just had to wake up again and everything would be fine. It could not be that something like this happened twice in a row... could it?
Suddenly the arm let go of her waist and Aerilyn immediately tried to run away, but the hand on her face pulled her head back against the man's shoulder so roughly that she thought her neck would break from it. Her jaw was aching from the firm lock of his strong fingers, and the flesh on the inner side of her mouth started to bleed because it was pressed and rubbed against her teeth so violently. But all the pain was forgotten when she saw the man's arm being raised in front of her eyes that widened with horror and dread. She saw the dark, emerald-green sleeve of the man's shirt, the black glove he was wearing, and the large dagger he held in his hand. Aerilyn felt as if somebody had turned back time, she experienced the same terrible feelings, the same mortal agony she had felt the moment she had been attacked in the woods.
She held her breath and closed her eyes when the sparkling blade plunged down towards her chest. Without even thinking she raised her hands to protect herself and stop the thrust that was aimed at her heart. Hot pain washed through her when she felt the weapon cutting her flesh while she tried to grab the attacker's hand or arm. Trying to ignore the burning pain in her cut forearm she somehow managed to make her attacker lose grip of his weapon. When he quickly bent down to pick it up again she pulled with all her might and finally escaped his hand. She didn't look back, didn't look at her injuries, didn't pay attention to the horrible pains in her arm and ankle. She only ran as fast as she could. Ran, ran, ran,...until she bumped into somebody. She cried out and raised her fists, ready to fight whoever it was, but when she looked up with panicking eyes she caught a familiar face.
"What's wrong, Aerilyn?" Faramir asked and softly closed his hands around her upper arms.
"Oh, Faramir!" she sobbed and pressed herself against his body, searching for shelter and comfort.
"You are injured," he remarked when he discovered her bleeding forearm.
"What happened to you?" he added when he noticed that she was a mess. Cuts and scratches all over, ripped dress, dirty skin and clothes, soaked with sweat.
"There was a man..." she told him in a low voice that was a bit muffled because her face was buried tightly against his chest.
"A man?" Faramir asked and put a hand on the back of her head protectively.
"Yes, he attacked me," Aerilyn continued to tell Boromir's brother with pure fear in her voice. It was so good to feel his strong hand gently touching her. His caress was like a guarantee to guard her, protecting her from whoever wanted to do her harm.
"You are safe now. I won't leave your side," Faramir promised and ran a hand over her hair while he scanned the surrounding area with narrowed, watchful eyes.
"I was so afraid, I thought he would kill me."
"What did he look like?" Faramir wanted to know.
"I don't know. I didn't see his face," Aerilyn said and backed away a bit so she could look at Faramir who watched her with a more than worried expression in his eyes.
"I only know that he..." She ended her sentence abruptly and stared at Faramir in a way that made him feel uneasy, maybe even frightened.
"That he what?" Faramir asked, following her stare that was focused on her own, blood covered hands that clutched to his shirt.
"That he wore an emerald-green shirt with brown ornaments like...this one..." Aerilyn whispered and raised her gaze that was so full of horror back up to his face. She had the feeling to faint, she couldn't breathe and her legs seemed to turn to jelly.
This cannot be, this simply cannot be,... she tried to convince herself of Faramir's innocence, but she knew what she had seen.
"No, Aerilyn...please..." Faramir said desperately when he realized what she was thinking. He wanted to grab her arms again and affirm to her that he had nothing to do with the attack, but as soon as he moved his hands she backed away in panic.
"Stay away!" she screamed and wanted to flee from him, but he quickly got hold of her arm and forced her to stay.
"I swear it was not I," he said, but she didn't listen. Before he even realized that she was moving she kicked him in a for him most unfortunate way and then ran away while he almost collapsed to the ground with a groan of pain.
"Aerilyn, wait!" he yelled after her when he had caught his breath again, but it was too late. She was gone.
Tears streamed down her face while she ran to no particular direction. She just ran. She wanted to get away from everybody. She didn't know what to think or believe. Could it really be coincidence that her attacker and Faramir wore similar clothes? Or could it be that Faramir was involved in some kind of conspiracy against his own brother? Could it even be that both Faramir and Boromir took part in a gruesome plan and the elder brother's abduction had just been a masquerade? She had thought that Boromir truly loved her, but could she be sure? Of course not. She was young and inexperienced. It would be easy for a man like Boromir to fool her with feigned affection. She felt so stupid... How could she be taken in by his false oaths of love in such a strong way that she had been willing to give her body, her chastity to him after so short time of knowing each other? Suddenly she felt disgusted by the memories of the intimate moments she had shared with Boromir the other day, but on the other hand she couldn't deny that she actually had enjoyed it. Probably not as much as he had, but still it had been a beautiful and very special experience.
No, no, it cannot be like this! she told herself over and over again, but huge doubts were growing inside of her and she couldn't reason them away. More and more questions came to her mind... What had been Faramir's needs in the gardens in the middle of the night if not to chase and kill her? But then again, why couldn't he be in the gardens out of the same reasons she had gone there? After all he was missing his brother and had to cope with great pain about the loss, too...
She thought about millions of possibilities, alternatives and reasons concerning the matters until she felt dizzy. Her pace slowed down, her breathing rushed in and out with loud and short pants, and she felt a sudden, painful sting in her chest. She lifted a hand to the spot that ached so much and felt warm liquid against her palm and fingers. Abruptly she stood still and looked down to her body. Her hand was covered with fresh blood that came from the old wound in her chest. Her dress was soaked with the red fluid that spilled from the injury that had broken open again due to the physical strains of running. Aerilyn pressed a hand to the wound and started walking again, very slowly this time. She knew she had to go to the houses of healing rapidly, but she had lost orientation and didn't know which way to chose. The great despair brought tears to her eyes again and every sob sent unbearable pain through the upper part of her body. She paced through the gardens, only seeing a blur due to the flood of tears, and wandered off until her legs couldn't carry her anymore. She collapsed to the ground exhaustedly and then everything went black.
