A/N: This is the sequel to Twisted Fate and a prequel of sorts detailing some of the events leading to Impervious. This is the last of the stories that I took down that I am putting back up.
Thank you for reading!
…-…
Amaeria Lightswill would have given most anything for a light blessed bath. Her long, white-blonde hair had been put up in intricate braids before she'd headed out on this patrol with some of Silvermoon's rangers, and now she was dreading when they returned to the outpost they were operating out of for the next week and a half. Getting these tangles out would be far worse than trudging through mud and underbrush.
When she'd signed up for this mission, it had been so that she could smooth things over with her childhood friend, Jaserisk Dawningblade. They'd grown up together, always getting into trouble with her other best friend, Prynn. Their parents had called the three of them the terrors of Silvermoon, and they had lived up to that title, always finding their way into mischief and scraped knees.
That had stopped when both Amaeria and Prynn had shown an aptitude for using the Light. The priesthood had welcomed their new members into the fold, and Jaserisk had been left behind.
Behind but not forgotten.
They'd still managed to have adventures whenever they could, some more risky than before since both Prynn and Amaeria were becoming capable healers.
Jaserisk hadn't had much of any connection with magic, and the Farstriders had recruited him, impressed with how good he was at scaling walls and sneaking around. He'd been quite proud, and both Amaeria and Prynn had been there when he'd graduated the academy to become a full-fledged ranger, clapping for him even as he'd bound up to them, pride swelling his chest as he'd hugged each of them.
But then something had shifted. Jaserisk had, well… he'd fallen in love with her.
And Amaeria hadn't found out about it until after she'd fallen in love with Gryst'lyn Emberdawn, one of Silvermoon's most notorious bad boys. He wasn't too bad when she was around, but...
That hardly mattered to Jaserisk.
He hadn't talked to her since she'd announced their engagement, and it was selfish, but Amaeria didn't want to lose one of her oldest friends just because she was getting married to someone else.
Determined to find a way to reach out to him, to at least try to come to an understanding, Amaeria had signed up for this patrol. She'd rather thought it would just be a lot of riding through the woods, checking rune stones and the like.
Instead, they'd headed to one of Silvermoon's furthest outposts and set up there, going out for days at a time to scout the woods. The ground was so cluttered that they'd left their mounts behind so that they would be able to move faster. They were in the south western edges of their territories, so it wasn't likely that they'd have to deal with any Amani trolls—the chance that it could happen was still a little nerve wracking—and the quel'dorei were on friendly terms with the humans to the south, so it didn't seem like this adventure would be that dangerous.
It was still a lot of hard traveling, though. It was easily more than Amaeria had ever done in her life—the priesthood suddenly seemed so detached from the places it was needed most, with so many priests spending their days safely in the city walls instead of out and about where they could do the most good.
The Farstriders she was patrolling with could tell. While she was doing her best to keep up, her original cheeriness and determination had somewhat diminished the further they went, and now she was rather quiet, expending most of her energy just to keep up with everyone.
Jaserisk was leading their group, though he hadn't said anything to her yet. She'd tried to talk to him a few times, but he'd just shushed her. Others had pointed out they needed to be listening, on the off chance wild animals came too close.
When she'd made this plan, her blind optimism had ignored one very key detail that she should have taken into consideration before attempting anything: Jaserisk was one of the most hardheaded elves she knew. If he never wanted to speak to her again, he very well wouldn't.
Her ears drooped a little at that prospect, though she kept her gaze on the forest floor, cursing herself for having worn robes instead of something more travel-appropriate.
Even as she silently lamented her foolish plan and wondered how painful the rest of their time out here was going to be, a pair of boots came into her view, standing beside a bubbling creek that she hadn't even noticed.
She was indeed not meant for anything other than city life.
As her gaze swept up the figure waiting for her, she held her breath when she saw it was Jaserisk. He rolled his eyes, holding his hand out to her, gaze focused on the others who'd already crossed the water.
They must have hated having her with them.
Suddenly all the adventures she'd had that had assured her she would be able to do this fell into focus as exactly what they were: children's games.
She took his hand hesitantly. Feeling the way his leather glove curled around her somehow made her lonelier as he started across the creek, making sure that she didn't slip into the water. It was warm enough that such an escapade would result in little aside from embarrassment and mild discomfort as her clothes dried, but it was still kind of him to make sure it didn't happen.
Amaeria smiled a little to herself. Jaserisk had never had a cruel bone in his body. She'd always felt safe around him. To find out that he'd fallen for her and hadn't said anything… had he mistaken her friendliness for mutual feelings? Prynn treated him the same way that Amaeria did, from what Amaeria could remember.
He dropped her hand once they'd cleared the creek, signaling for his subordinates to keep going. Even as Amaeria struggled to come up with something to say, he started toward the head of the group. A thank you died on her lips as she watched him walk away.
It hurt that he could be so cold to her, though she supposed he must be hurting, too, with the way things had ended up.
If they could just talk…
That likely wasn't going to happen.
Amaeria wanted to go home. This had clearly been a mistake. Perhaps time would heal the rift that had formed between them. Time and space.
She hadn't bothered to give him either.
How horribly self-centered of her.
What kind of priest couldn't be more understanding of other people's feelings and—
Amaeria squeaked as she felt Jaserisk's arm wrap around her waist and pull her to a stop. He put his other hand over her mouth for a moment before taking it back and putting a finger to his lips. The others had stopped, too.
Her ears perked up, and she strained to listen to what the Farstriders around her were so well trained to hear. While all she could make out were birds and wind whispering through leaves, Jaserisk's grip on her tightened, and he pulled her closer, frowning as one of his ears twitched.
He motioned to the others silently with a hand, and the group spread out and began to creep through the trees, toward some unknown threat. Amaeria looked up at Jaserisk, who in turn motioned to the side with his head and eased his grip on her, though he didn't completely let her go.
While on her own she knew she would have bumbled her way through the woods, alerting whatever it was that they were on their way, somehow Jaserisk was able to keep her footfalls as quiet as his own, and they carefully made their way after the others.
Amaeria didn't get a clear look at what they'd found at first. Rather, she was overwhelmed by the smell of rotting meat and instantly had to fight back her gag reflex, jerking her shirt up to cover her nose and mouth. Even as she willed her robe to be a better air filter, she heard a cry from somewhere to her right, and both she and Jaserisk darted toward the sound.
Before anything really registered in her mind, Amaeria was tossing heals and bubbles to everyone in range. It wasn't until the creature attacking one of her fellow patrollers found that its claws were useless against the strange aura surrounding the elf that she saw it.
As it saw her.
It looked like it had been a man once upon a time, though she doubted anyone could call it that anymore. Its shape was contorted, its head tilted at an odd angle as it turned a milky gaze toward her, mouth hanging open and bits of flesh, blood, and cloth poking out from its broken teeth.
The creature seemed to understand that she was the one who had thwarted it, and she was surprised by how fast something in such a late state of decay could move. She barely had time to throw a bubble around herself before she was on the ground, terror stricken as the corpse clawed ineffectually at her. While Amaeria was a decently skilled priest, she knew that holy shields wouldn't last indefinitely. She braced herself for the pain the thing's claws would soon bring.
However, before it could make it past her magic and to her flesh, arrows and blades flew into it. The monster let out a slow, gurgling hiss before slumping down on top of her.
Amaeria wasn't sure how she managed to keep breathing through her fear, but her body jerkily took in air as she stared up at the creature. It really was a corpse. How then, was it moving so...well? Never mind that; how was it moving at all?
Magic obviously, but who would do such a thing?
She didn't realize she was crying until she heard Jaserisk murmur that it was alright and felt his arms around her, his chin resting on top of her head. The creature...it had been shoved away, but it was still close enough that she could touch it if she wanted to.
A sense of humiliation washed over her. This was her first patrol, and she was in tears after their first skirmish? Amaeria quickly wiped at her eyes, though she grimaced when she saw that streaks of coagulated blood ran across her clothes.
She shook her head when Jaserisk offered to carry her for a little while and rose shakily to her feet. One of the other Farstrider's ruffled her hair—pulling loose a few locks of her hair so that they tumbled messily around her face—and laughed as she immediately tried to pat it back into place. There were leaves and dirt caught in her hair, and the Farstriders seemed amused that she would be annoyed by anything making her rat's nest worse.
"You didn't do half bad, priest," the Farstrider offered, grinning. "We're all still here, aren't we?"
Amaeria looked back at the creature on the ground and nodded meekly. Even as a few others offered her gentle praise or consolation that they'd never seen such a creature themselves, she stilled. She barely noticed Jaserisk's hand against her cheek.
"It's...not dead."
As one of them asked her to repeat herself, she shrieked her words again, stumbling into Jaserisk as the corpse rose back to its feet and made another lunge toward her. While she maintained enough of her senses to keep up her shields and her heals, for the duration of the fight she felt as though she would throw up. Even when limbs were hacked off, it kept coming at them. It no longer focused strictly on her, however, instead desperately clawing at whatever was nearest, trying to eliminate even one of its attackers. She felt a pang of sympathy for the creature. Was there still some semblance of whoever it had been trapped within that rotting flesh?
Finally, one of the Farstriders had the sense to light the tip of his arrow and set the creature aflame. As it burned away to nothing, still shambling toward them and leaving small fires in its wake, it let out a hellish, other-worldly wail before finally succumbing to death.
Even as the elves went about extinguishing the flames it had left, several more wails responded from somewhere further south.
Amaeria was in Jaserisk's arms in a breath, and the whole lot of the Farstriders retreated, intent on reaching their outpost before anymore of the corpses could reach them.
~"~
She couldn't out run them. Amaeria looked over her shoulder again to see that dozens of the ghouls were pouring out of the woods, their sights set on her as their rotting limbs jerked unnaturally, forcing themselves to seek her out. She could hear the cries of the Farstriders as they fell to the creatures, and she was overtaken with guilt. How could she have left them like that? How could she have let them die when she was charged with their lives?
Even as she thought to go back and save whoever she could, she felt decaying teeth bite down into her shoulder, jagged, broken teeth digging into her skin, tearing it apart.
She screamed.
Amaeria's eyes snapped open, and she bit back a hiccupped sob as she realized it had only been a nightmare. On their way back to their camp, they had stumbled into several more corpses. The creatures had been dealt with fairly easily, since they'd discovered fire to be the monsters' weakness.
Upon reaching the outpost, they'd sent a messenger to Silvermoon to report what they'd found, with the assurance that more updates would come if they found out that there were more walking corpses than they'd anticipated.
Jaserisk and his fellow Farstriders had decided to rest up for the night and then see if they could find the source of the risen bodies in the morrow. He'd told Amaeria she didn't need to come with them, but how could she let them go against something so… relentless? Especially when she was their healer.
The guilt from her dream surged back up.
If things got too dangerous, she wouldn't really abandon them, would she?
She shook her head, trying to reassure herself. It had been terrifying, but she was stronger than that.
Pale and trembling as she had been, Amaeria had said she could go back with them. Though Jaserisk had clearly been skeptical, seeing as she'd looked ready to pass out even with the threat miles behind them, the Farstriders in her patrol were quick to remind him that she'd done a damn good job healing them, despite her fear.
It was a small consolation.
As she curled up into a small ball on her cot, she felt a hand on her arm and looked up to see Jaserisk leaning over her. His brow was pinched together, worry tugging his lips into a frown. She felt so stupid. Of all of them, she was the only one to be this rattled by their little ordeal. They had to be thinking that she was even more inept than she'd originally appeared to be, even if they had come to her defense earlier. He forced a smile as she sat up and ran her fingers through her hair—she'd brushed it out before going to bed. The actions had been soothing and the gentle tug of her hair as the brush moved through it had helped dull the horrors of the day, if only a little.
"It'll be alright," he ran his hand down her back and pulled her toward him. She felt him lean his cheek into her hair, and a fleeting sense of relief washed through her, though it was quickly replaced with something she couldn't quite place as her lover's—Gryst'lyn's face flickered into her thoughts.
She shifted on her bed, away from Jaserisk and smiled faintly, brushing her hair back over her shoulders. "I know...I don't know why it's got me so upset," she trailed off as she tried to think of something witty or confident to say. However, all she could do was picture those monsters' faces. They had been people, once. Were they still?
"When I saw that first one, I about had a heart attack," Jaserisk offered, drumming his fingers against his ankle once. He'd seated himself half on her bed. His long, blonde hair fell around his shoulders, half dried from a recent bath. He smelled like crisp leaves, and Amaeria had to fight the impulse to admit to herself that it was nice.
She brought her knees up to her chest and picked at the hem of her robe. "Do you think...do you think anyone's missing them? That we should have tried to find out who they were?" She frowned as he laughed. She hadn't remembered it being such a pleasant sound. As she realized that the tips of her ears were turning red, she looked away from him, hoping desperately that he wouldn't notice in the dim light.
"I know...I'm not your ideal man," Jaserisk whispered.
Amaeria jerked her head up and looked back at him, eyes wide. He was staring down at his hands. However, even as she floundered for a way to comfort him without misleading him, or just change the subject all together—perhaps back to what she'd been pondering about the ghouls—he shrugged and looked at her wistfully.
"I love you, Amae—"
"Please don't," she whispered, interrupting him as she looked back down at her feet. "I already promised myself to someone else."
"That worthless prick of a noble?" She blinked and looked back at him to see he was leaning toward her. He traced her jaw line with his thumb and leaned forward to let his lips trail along her neck. "He's just going to break your heart." He pulled back and caught her gaze for a long, quiet moment before gently drawing her to him and kissing her. He rested his forehead against hers as she tried to catch her breath. Everything was happening so suddenly. He took her hand and held it against his chest. "I love you. I love how innocent you are, that you think of the monsters we fought as the people they were... I love the way you try to be brave, even when you're so terrified. I want to protect you. To hold you, to have you, in every way a man can..." He grinned and kissed her again. "And I love that such thoughts make you blush."
Even as her mind drew a huge blank, and she couldn't think of words to piece together a basic sentence, he ran one of his hands along her leg, pulling her robe up with it and letting his palm trail over her bare skin. "Give me a chance...?"
He had such a pleading, hopeful look in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, finally breaking from her confusion and catching his hand. "I'm sorry, but I'm already in love with someone else."
Jaserisk was quiet for a long, agonizing moment before a half smile flickered across his lips. "I've known since that first day that we met that we were meant to be together. I can be patient."
With that, he rose to his feet and left the room.
Amaeria felt all the blood drain from her face as she stared after him.
This had been a horrendously bad idea.
