Burned. Battered. Bashed. Crisped. Crushed. Close to dead, I drag my near-corpse back to friends and seek for help. I got in a fight with magic and I came out alive. My friends, the cousins, failed the light and failed me.
We burst into the room, full of swagger and uncareful of enemies. We knew the magic touch of the foes we faced, and we felt prepared. Immediately, my ally rushed straight through a mage, cutting her to the ground, his greatsword flashing. I felt secure. The mages' eyes bulged and they turned to face us. That's when everything turned upside down.
The meek firebrand, Udara, sat, useless, for what seemed like forever in a tangle of tentacles that burst from the floor. The swordmage, Magnus, fell into a pit that opened below him. I stepped clear of the tentacles and avoided the pit and swore under my breath. I pumped arrows methodically into the mage in front of me, scaring him, drawing his allies' fire and electric shocks and sword thrusts. I'm alone. With a bow. Four swords and three wands point at my soon-to-be corpse and I scream through my teeth.
Sarenrae, why do you put your servant in the fire? To purge impurities--God, what have I done!? What impurity can I be accused of?
I pull down power from Sarenrae, drawing from it like the first drink after a desert spell. I heal myself with her energy, patching the holes, salving the skin, stitching the slices. I throw shot after shot into mage after mage and slowly lose my life.
As I sag to the floor, the diplomat-mage Udara and the sword-mage Magnus crawl from whatever corner they cowered in and finally show their faces. I channel the last of Sarenrae's gift to heal their simpering slices. Magnus shows his worth and cuts down the lightning killer.
Three arrows: one death.
Three arrows: one death.
I walk away. I drag my near-corpse back to friends and seek for help. I suppose I might be too hard on them, but I felt very alone. I'm glad Sarenrae was by my side.
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It's good to ask for help, I think. That's what friends are for. But friends are imperfect, too, and sometimes don't know how to help. Or are unable to help, as Udara and Magnus seem to have been.
ReplyDeleteAnd that's something I've been learning and relearning, especially after my car accident in July. I'm terrible at asking for help; I'm worried about being an inconvenience to people, about people ditching me because I'm too much of whatever.
So I've learned that asking for help takes courage, especially when you've learned other lessons growing up. Or are going through a particularly difficult time.
And needing help IS very lonely but that's why reaching out for that help one needs is important.
Anyway, I'm rambling, I think, and should go work on my NaNoWriMo project. I'm a day behind.
This was from the tabletop game, and the others actually weren't useless. Magnus dealt nearly as much damage as I did and Udara disabled five people with spells and took nine images from an illusion so Magnus could one-hit ko the actual person. So it's a piece about perception, kind of.
ReplyDeleteYes, I figured it was from the tabletop game.
ReplyDeleteAnd perception is a very fascinating thing to work with, I think.