Karma, Part 2 - Thread

Despite knowing it was bad form, Ruune kicked open the door to the inn, accompanied by a gust of wind and snow. The poor boy manning the bar startled, as did the half a dozen or so other patrons, all eyes turning to her.

"I need help," she announced, her own eyes sweeping through the room before settling on the bartender. "A room, clean water, and bandaging supplies, medical assistance if there's anyone capable."

He opened his mouth, and a string of half finished syllables floated out. She stared at him for a few seconds and adjusted the passed out woman on her back.

"Please?" she added, and that broke him out of his stupor.

He was remarkably efficient after that, instructing someone who clearly didn't work there to head to the back to boil water, while he led her swiftly up the stairs. Instead of individual rooms, it seemed that the inn had one large loft dedicated to travellers who needed a bed for the night, and though it was currently free of people, a few of the beds in neat rows along the walls had backpacks and coats and other belongings on them. He disappeared through a door to what she suspected to be a supply closet, while she headed to the back of the room, where she carefully lay the woman down on a large table.

"Wouldn't... a bed be better?" the boy asked, though Ruune didn't turn to look at him, focusing instead on trying to figure out how to remove the woman's padded leather armour. A lot of good that had done her. "More comfortable?"

"Do you want blood on your linens?" she asked in return, finally managing to find the clasps. From the corner of her eye she could see him stepping up as she began to peel back the layers of cloth, until finally they revealed underneath an expanse of skin, stained with blood and mottled with scars.

The torso of a warrior.

There was a small hitch of the breath beside her, and finally she turned. The boy, his face red, had his eyes cast away and a small kit that she recognised as first aid supplies held up to block the view. She rolled her eyes. Teenagers...

"Do you have any kind of medical knowledge?" she asked, picking the kit from his hands. Relieved of their burden, they immediately flew to his sides as he shook his head stiffly. "Then I would like you to fetch me the water. I need to clean her before I can stitch her up."

"Ri-right, of course," he muttered and rushed away. She rolled her eyes again.

Although she had to admit, she could somewhat understand the reaction. Waiting for the water, she now had a moment to actually look over the woman she had saved, and she had a remarkable physique. Her muscles were well defined -- perhaps on the side of dehydration -- and she exuded both strength and dexterity, with broad shoulders and a slim waist. Her face was nice too; her facial features, framed by choppily cut bangs, were sharp, except for her lips which looked... distractingly soft. And in the light of the inn her eyes seemed less dark, but rather with an auburn hue--

Ruune shrieked and jumped back, and the woman chuckled, the sound of it breathy and pained. She went to push herself up, but Ruune immediately stepped back to her side and placed a gentle but firm hand on her good shoulder.

"Don't move! I haven't stitched you yet!"

"I'm fine," the woman said and waved a hand, only to wince. "I've had worse."

"Worse than being bit by a wyvern?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but that was the point the boy returned with a pail of water, and in the end she didn't. They watched as he, somewhat awkwardly, left the pail on the ground and then made a hasty exit. The entire time his eyes stayed glued to the ground.

"It didn't even bite me that hard."

Ruune suppressed a sigh and looked back at the woman, at the wide grin on her much too pale face.

"Right," she said and picked up the cloth in the pail. "I still need to stitch you up."

"As you wish," was the reply, followed by a soft hiss as she pressed the cloth to the wounds on the woman's shoulder.

She considered that while she wiped away the blood and sweat, kept considering it while she dug through the first aid kit. It was... a bit of an odd reply, wasn't it? As she wished? She threaded the needle. Surely it wasn't up to her to decide whether or not someone else received medical treatment?

She picked the woman's belt off the table. "It won't do to be suicidal."

The woman snorted. "I'm not suicidal," she said, but somehow that didn't quite sit right. "Living by the blade means dying by the blade, and I had accepted that."

"Had?"

Her canines seemed awfully sharp as she grinned again.

"It's not up to me anymore, is it?" she asked with a glint in her eyes. "It's up to Karma, now."

Then she stopped, blinked, and looked around. She noticed the scabbard of her sword that Ruune had removed from her hip and set aside earlier. Her face paled.

"Where's my sword?"

Ruune blinked too and glanced over. The scabbard was empty. "Oh, I suppose it was left behind," she said, and for the first time since meeting her the woman's face actually showed signs of distress.

"What?!" she screeched and tried to sit up again. "I need to go get it!"

"No, you do not!" Ruune countered, pushing her back down. "You need to lay still and let me treat you!"

"You don't understand, that sword is--!"

The rest of the sentence was throttled by the leather belt shoved into her mouth. Her eyes widened even furhter, sliding over to lock with Ruune's.

"I'll go get it," she said, slowly and clearly, and the woman swallowed around the leather. "I also left all my stuff there. However," she gave her a pointed look, and dutifully she laid properly back down, "you are slowly but very surely bleeding out, so I need to do this first. Now, keep biting on that." She pulled out the needle, her expression turning apologetic. "I don't usually stitch things that can feel, so... this will hurt."

***

When she had finally stitched, cleaned, and helped the woman into a bed -- where she promptly fell asleep -- Ruune clambered back downstairs into the common area. The boy at the bar already had a bowl of stew and some bread out for her, for which she was greatful, and she collapsed onto a barstool to dig in.

"So... what happened?" he asked after a moment. She glanced up at him. "If you don't mind me asking. Your friend was pretty badly chewed up and I... heard you mention a wyvern up there?"

"She's not my friend," she said and shoved a piece of bread into her mouth. The boy's mouth fell open in surprise. "But yes, there was a wyvern. I happened across them on the road not far from here and stepped in before she got her arm bit off by the thing."

"Is it dead now?"

"Probably. Or at least badly enough wounded that it'll be easy to finish the job. Speaking of..." She gulped down the rest of the stew and spun around on the stool, addressing her next words to the travellers gathered in the room. "I know you lot have been listening, so if there are adventurers here as such inclined, I would appreciate some backup as I retrieve my belongings. I do not much care for the wyvern's body, but I know those things can fetch a pretty penny from the right people."

There were quiet mutterings around the room, and a few minutes later Ruune left the inn with a sturdy, low cart, two men, and a woman in tow. The woman and one of the men had the air of very traditional fighters about them, though the other man seemed more adept at arcane arts. Always useful to have when dealing with dragon-kind.

The snow was falling down in thick, fluffy flakes, and the air was biting but still. The sun had long since set, the world around them lit up by nothing but their lamps and the bright shine of the moon as it ever so occasionally peeked from behind the grey clouds. Everything was peaceful in the way it only was during a winter night like this.

Really, it was quite beautiful, or would have been if Ruune wasn't so exhausted. And, for whatever reason, so on edge. Something about all of this felt... weird.

She'd have time to ponder that later, though, because for now she had to focus on getting her belongings back. Luckily she found them exactly where she'd hidden them, and while the other three ventured off into the forest where she'd heard the wyvern land, she stayed on the road a while longer looking for the missing sword. She found that too easily enough, since the red of spilled blood still shone through the freshly fallen snow. She picked the blade up and turned it in her hands.

It was a nice sword, well crafted and with a good balance. Old too, by the looks of it, but well taken care of. No wonder the woman had been so frantic to get it back -- you couldn't get swords like this nowadays, especially from around this part of the world. As she wiped the blood off with a cloth, she noticed a small inscription by the hilt of it and brought it closed to see what it said. To her disappointment, she couldn't read the symbols etched into it, but she figured it was probably the blade's name.

She'd have to remember to ask that later, she thought, sliding the sword back into its scabbard, and followed the rest of the group into the woods.

***

A few hours later they were finally back at the inn, and Ruune for one never wanted to leave ever again. Well, she did, and come morning she once again would, but for now she was content with getting a bit more food and drink in her and warming up by the happily crackling fire. The rest of her excursion party were merrily drinking to their lucky break and telling the tale of how they'd chopped off the head of that wyvern, but she wasn't too keen on joining them. She felt a little bad for the thing, honestly. It was just trying to live its life, just like the rest of them.

Then again, self-defense was self-defense, and in the end the last one standing would be the victor.

She made her way to the bar, where she asked for some more food to bring up to the patient. Climbing the stairs, she contemplated whether or not she should wake the woman, considering how exhausted she, too, likely was, but then again, she would need to eat something. If she had no calories in her, she couldn't recover, and based on her condition, she desperately needed something to eat.

In the end, the contemplation made no difference, as when Ruune stepped into the loft, she found the woman was already awake, sitting up on the bed. She was turned partially away, looking out of the window at the slowly falling snow, her profile illuminated by the cold light seeping through in a way that made Ruune's breath hitch.

She must have heard, as she blinked and turned, and in the moment their eyes met, the world crawled to a stop.

"Did you bring my sword?" The words hung weightlessly in the air between them.

"Yes, of course," Ruune said as the whole room spun. She shook her head to clear it. Feeling a bit more secure on her feet, she sailed across the room and set the small tray down on the bedside table. She reached behind her to pull the blade out. It felt heavier in her hand now, somehow... meaningful. "It is quite lovely."

"Thank you, it's a family heirloom," the other woman said, a softness on her face as her eyes landed on the sword. Then they flicked back up. "What's your name?"

Ruune blinked, the air tenser all of a sudden. "Um. Ruune."

"Ruune what?"

Why does that matter? she thought, but when she opened her mouth the words that came out were, "Ruune Norja."

She had no idea what had compelled her to say it, knew immediately that it would be a bad idea, but as the woman's face grew brighter, a gentle heat tried to creep up her own. She pushed it back down, adamant to not let it show, and unsure what to say, simply handed the sword over. She kept her eyes locked with the woman's, who reached over and--

Gripped the sword directly over Ruune's hand, clutching it between both her own, and the heat was no longer gentle. Her entire body set ablaze, but not simply because of a mild infatuation. Oh no, this was something else. Something magical.

Something dangerous.

"What are you doing?" Ruune tried, but she just grinned.

"By the Divine Justice of Karma," she began, and her eyes glowed like the sun, "I, Tikariina Airo, hereby pledge my life unto you, Ruune Norja."

The whole world shook, a deafening roar in Ruune's ears, her heartbeat a thousand times louder.

"What are you doing?!" she cried, but it didn't matter.

A thread, red and thin but growing thicker by the second, snaked its way around her wrist, its other end wrapping around Tikariina's neck.

"For as long as we shall both live," she continued, absolutely maniacal, "I am forfeit."

With that final word, everything fell silent.

The light dimmed from her eyes just as the thread now connecting them faded into nothingness. It was still there though. Ruune could feel it. She could feel it pressing against her pulse, could feel Tikariina's pulse through it, the weight of her life placed upon her.

For a long while she couldn't say anything. Because what the fuck could she say?

"Why?"

Tikariina smiled once more, but this time... it looked so, so tired.

"I told you," she said with a shuddering breath. "It's up to Karma, now."

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Hello!!!! I am quite excited to be back, ngl!!!! We are writing this well in advance this year, so let's hope that we can keep the pace up :) I am looking forward to seeing what exactly this story will bring!

But for now, the next topic is "Sky" (I can't believe we've not used that yet??? anyway) bye~~

Pede out.