RP Between Sand and Stars

Of two things Klaire was sure: That she wouldn’t make it and neither would Ishaan if he was left alone in the desert. The man who refused to give them a name was big but not only that, Klaire noticed by the way he held her sword that he knew his way around it, unlike her unlucky partner.

“Let’s hope it has a happy ending.” She whispered back to Ishaan, lowering her gun despite keeping her finger on the trigger. There was no movement in their surroundings but the sand blowing in the wind, that didn’t mean she’d lower her guard.

“We have water!” Klaire said to the stranger. “Leave your sword over there and walk over here slowly, and we’ll share it with you.” The brunette slowly held her pistol up so he could see it and uncocked it, tucking it under her belt. It was easy enough to grab if she needed it and so was her sword; hopefully not something a man three times her side would be concerned about.
 
Normally, Therrin wouldn't disarm himself so easily, but the situation seemed less and less threatening by the moment. They even offered him water. Though showing eagerness to satisfy his thirst would be a weakness.

"Going to take a lot more than water to gain my trust." He paused to look the woman over "Faeries." The last words coming off harsher than intended. Therrin took his hand off the hilt of the sword and shoveled his feet forward, the daggers on his side remaining in the sheath. If he was going to get out of this damn desert any time soon, help wouldn't be the worst idea. Plus.. they could lead him to his destination.

Therrin stopped a few feet away, his large stature towering over the woman. "Do the two of you know where you are?" Therrin's voice boomed as he continued to study the captain with a close eye, watching her for a sudden motion. If they could help him locate where he was, it would be a good point to get to where he needed to be. "Where could two? (Hes still unsure of the boy) Faeries be headed in a place like this?"
 
By the way the stranger pronounced the word fairies, Klaire knew it was a good thing she hadn’t introduced herself for what she was, a captain for the empire’s military. She released some of the tension in her body when the sword was dropped, blinking away the drowsiness that was likely due to a mix of the hot sun over their heads and the snake’s poison.

“We were on our way to Armadilla, when our ship sank.” Klaire spoke honestly with her chin up, knowing if the gentleman had company they would’ve shown up by now. “Now we’re just two stranded travelers, trying not to die out here in the desert. I figure you’re the same.” She pulled out her flask and walked up to the man, offering it to him. The fact he was much taller than she was didn’t seem to intimidate her, even though she kept much of her attention on the movement of his hands.
 
Therrin huffed at her explanation "No one out here is just a traveler. Tell me, what business do you have in Armadilla? Myself, I am looking for someone."

Therrin grabbed the flask and looked at it for a moment, putting it above his head and letting most ofnthe water pour onto his mouth with one gulp. "Thanks, I hadnt had a proper drink in days." Therrin tossed the flask back and looked between the two of them. "I have no business is Armadilla, but i could assist you in your travel, should you need another hand. Of course, in excange for a favor of my own."
 
Watching the water pour from the flask and into the stranger's mouth was painful. Ishaan swallowed, watching the man's throat bob, silently craving the relief he'd gained. They'd been taking sips, for chrissakes. He silently hoped she knew what she was doing.

But as the man continued to speak, of business in Armadilla, but also of no business in Armadilla, of favours, as though he hadn't just depleted their water source, Ishaan knew this was a mistake. They were, after all, no longer going to the pirate city, not unless they wanted to die. He was inclined to ask the man if satisfying his thirst had been enough of a life-saving favour, but figured that might antagonize the brute. "That won't be necessary," he said instead, finally voicing his opinion - primarily to the Captain - about this potential alliance.
 
If this had happened earlier this morning, Klaire would have agreed, but circumstances had changed. This man, despite being sketchy and unmannered, didn’t seem like a bad person, and he could lift a sword. Ishaan needed him.

“We have food. And more water, however it shouldn’t last more than a couple of days if we don’t ration it. Sharing it is the only favor we can offer you.” Klaire said, knowing her partner wouldn't like her proposition. “You haven’t had a drink in a couple of days, and neither of us has a ship. You need us, and we have a better chance at staying alive as a group than otherwise.” She glanced at Ishaan reassuringly, before taking another step forward and offering the stranger her hand.

“I’m Klaire.”
 
Therrin mulled over the words of the woman offering her name. The giant huffed at the mans words, ignoring his stares as he teturned his attention to the one speaking business. Therrin let out a slight grunt "Need is a strong word, Klaire. But if you don't think you'll need my help as well, then I guess you haven't run into the Wyrms yet." His last words lingered in the air gor a moment almost as if they were a warning. Therrin let out a short low laugh afterwards, taking a step forard to tower over Klaire. Slowly he extended his massive hand. "As for the favor I was requesting.. it would be one that would work in both of our needs. Im sure your minds will change in time. For now, we get to Armadilla." Therrin still didnt trust these people nearly enough to reveal his name or his face, the risk was still there in his mind. 'Therrin The Terrible' was the moniker he heard through the whispers after the fatal ship incident. Surely the name had to have died out after so many years, but Therrin wasn't so sure. Fortunately, he figured his last name had been long forgotten, so he chose to present himself with that name instead. Atleast for now. "Call me Gasteel."
 
His hand was huge. It reminded her of holding her father’s hand when she was younger, or Rowan’s… But there was nothing fatherly about that man, and it was clear by his insistence on this so-called favor that whatever kindness he might have within him wasn’t a match to her mentor’s. She let go of it and started walking, in the same direction Ishaan and her had been walking towards before he arrived.

“We’ve wasted enough time, we better start walking.” She said. Klaire couldn’t tell Gasteel of their plan to make it to the military base, not before knowing for sure that learning that information wouldn’t turn them into a threat in his eyes. They were moving towards the mountains, presumably in the opposite direction to Armadilla, and if he started to question their route she’d have to think of an excuse that would explain why they were going there.
 
Ishaan didn't like the plan. He couldn't help but wonder if the poison was taking effect faster than anticipated. Or worse, she didn't have their best interests at heart. Regardless, he began to doubt his Captain, observing their interaction - their handshake - keenly. A handshake that meant nothing; not when one party held out details of the debt that Klaire suddenly owed.

At least she began to move in the direction of the mountains, and away from the uncharted portion of the desert. Away from Armadilla. He held his breath momentarily, wondering if Gasteel would realize. Wondering how she'd possibly explain why they were moving in this direction, to someone who very clearly looked like he belonged among the bastards they'd find in the pirate capital.

The moment passed and Ishaan turned to face the man, adjusting the thin fabric that draped over most of his face. "Ishaan," he offered with a nod, before continuing forward, through the scorching sand.
 
Therrin took note of Klaire's urgency to keep moving. Was the desert really the only thing working against them? Their motives were still In question, but given the fact they already gave him a large amount of their supply, he'd stop questioning it for the time being. The Brute nodded at Ishaan, the man seemong to give in to the idea of working together.

Therrins eyes shifted ahead, noticing a the mountains in the distance. His eyes squinted as they walked, the wind around them picking up some. "How are you so sure you can find Armadilla?" Therrin wondered, nevwr having actually found it himself. Though he was never one to search for it, well other than on his current contract. "I was on a ship." He admitted, "About a week or so. The captain claimed to know where it was. After we crashed I never saw his body. Maybe if you dint really know.. We could find him. Though like I said it's been a week. And we both know it's not this way.." of course he noticed, even if he hadnt know the location, The mountains had been at Therrins back for most of his walk. Ifbthe caltain really did know where the city was, they wouldnt have been traveling by the mountains instead of towards them. He would wait to question what was really in the mountains direction.

As Therrin began to speak again, the ground around them started to shake, and a gust of sand blew by them up ahead. It was one of two things, a sandstorm.. or Wyrms. Therrin wasn't interested in fighting these ground beasts now, but he wasn't sure if there was much of a choice.
 
“If it crashed a week ago, the sandstorms most likely took over it by now.” Klaire said, thinking of her beautiful Dragonfly. She wandered how much of it was still above the surface, and the bodies… She didn’t stop walking when Gasteel let known he was aware they weren’t moving towards Armadilla.

“I know someone who can help, at the base of the mountains.” She said, before looking over her shoulder. “Going east with no supplies is suicide. If our plan doesn’t work for you, we wish you good luck on your journey.” She glanced at Ishaan. He hadn't spoken much, and even though she couldn't quite see his face under all that fabric, his frown made it clear he wasn't happy with this arrangement.
 
At the base of the mountain? Wasn't there a military base in the desert mountains somewhere? Therrin could vaguely rememb3r hearing something about it long ago but never visiting himself. Surely that's not what they could have meant. Of course Therrin didn't know where that was either, so if by a small chance they were military, he'd have no way to know where they were bringing him.

Therrin shrugged in response to Klaire, it wasn't like he had much of a choice. There was no way he would last a few more days without water. Therrin slowed his walk as the wind picked up little bit more. "Somethings coming.." He murmured looking out into the distance.
 
Something was coming. Ishaan felt the wind rustle his loose clothing, bringing the slightest relief from the heat. He squinted into the distance, seeing nothing but golden sand and the illusion of movement. It was nowhere near the scale of the storm that'd appeared yesterday but still illicited fear. Wetting his dry lips, Ishaan turned to Klaire. "We should turn back." To the wreckage they'd used as shelter not moments prior - it was the closet coverage within sight, likely within miles.
 
Klaire froze as well as the others, but not before drawing her sword. She nodded at Ishaan’s words and stepped back slowly, keeping an eye out for whatever it was that approached them.
 
He didn't wait for their companion's approval, nor did he care if Gasteel chose to follow or not. He began to walk back, retracing their steps towards the wreckage. Every once in a while he'd look over his shoulder, and each time he'd watch as the movement grew nearer.
 
Ishaan was certain that sand covered every inch of his skin. Even now, several hours after the onslaught they'd faced, he could feel the tiny, near invisible grains that stuck to his face, to the growth of hair that'd begun to sprout over his jaw.

They'd lost their companion, lost precious time, but gained a temporary shelter. Boulders, perhaps once belonging to the mountain range, had come into view, and beneath one side, a tiny alcove. They'd scrambled in, tucking away from the sun and sand, and now, the cold and stars.

Rubbing his hands together, feeling the scratch of sand particles between them, Ishaan looked to Klaire and pressed his cracked lips together.

He knew that she'd lied. One fucking week. It hadn't been one day yet.
 
Klaire thought she’d have more time, but as her body heat increased and she felt cold despite the desert’s temperature, she wondered if she’d be able to make it through the night. The two of them were lucky to find shelter before nightfall, shelter that would likely serve as her grave.

“I’m sorry…” She said, curled up in a corner of the cave. She could have said she was sorry she lied about how much time she had left, but her regret expanded way beyond that. “I really thought we’d make it. I- I was so arrogant.” Her voice left as a whisper while her eyes stared at the sand instead of at Ishaan.
 
Dark brown eyes softened. A quiet albeit heavy sigh later and the man suddenly found himself moving across the cave, taking a seat in front of her. Closer, but with an adequate distance between them.

She was dying. They both knew it. But what she was saying... it was filled with regret, and there wasn't anything to regret - nothing that was within her power.

He told her as much. "This isn't your fault. None of it." The storm, the pirates, the snake... "Just the cards we were dealt."

He'd met her uncle, knew that her father had served and survived. Couldn't begin to imagine the legacy she thought she needed to uphold. To surpass.
 
She didn’t rebuttal, despite disagreeing with his kind words. There was no use in starting a pointless argument, and Klaire found herself lacking the energy to do so.

A cold breeze blew through the entrance of the cave, the light dimming as the sun began to set. Her purple eyes looked up at the two versions of Ishaan, that merged into one as she blinked.

“I… Thought I’d die a more violent death.” She said, pulling tighter the fabric around her shoulders. “Or maybe I’d live long enough to retire, like my uncle. To be honest, I never thought that far ahead.” Why was she telling him those things? Perhaps because there was nothing else to be done except lay and wait. Or maybe it was the poison running through her veins and making her run her mouth. “I thought I’d at least accomplish something to… Make them proud.”
 
This brutal climate; the blistering heat during the day and the cold winds at night, it still seemed unnatural to Ishaan, who was far from accustomed. He felt the muscles in his back stiffen as the cool air moved the fabric covering his skin. Still, when he looked at her, with what little light remained, he was unsure whether she was hot or cold. Likely both. When she tightened her hold, he had a better inclination. He moved, adjusting his position so that his back blocked the brunt of the entrance.

His brows furrowed in response to her words, in response to the clear defeat and self-criticism. He should be feeling the same way - his fate was all but sealed as well. Perhaps it was the lack of poison though; that made him grasp onto the tiniest bit of hope. That made him want to comfort her. Because that's what he'd want, when he died.

"I'd bet an absurd amount of rumman and our remaining bread that they're both proud of you." Ishaan forced a smile, an attempt to lift her spirits. "That they're proud of the woman that you are."

"Tell me about your happiest memory."
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top