Dying Lily & Wilted Rose

Swim Before You Drown

Callisto came to on the shore of the lake they fell into after his (admittedly) reckless gamble of jumping off the cliff.

It was cold, with the heavy rain and wet clothes. Callisto coughed a couple of times to expel the water in his lungs. He breathed in several times, before bursting into laughter.

They could have drowned to death.

He looked to the side and saw the woman lying beside him, pale and unconscious. She didn't look like she was breathing.

Callisto jolted upright and checked for a pulse.

Don't be dead don't be dead don't be dead–

It felt like an eternity before he felt one, small, but a pulse nonetheless. Callisto nearly collapsed with relief.

He didn't realize it at first, but he was stuck in a mass tangle of thorny vines that came from Penelope's arm and wrapped around his body, tying the two together.

Did she drag us out of the water by herself? Callisto thought incredulously as he freed himself from the thorns and lifted Penelope up. He ignored the sharp pains on his back from the stab wounds.

"Crazy woman," he snorted (affectionately).

But even in the dim rain, Callisto could see the cloud of red that stained Penelope's clothes, right below her collarbone.

The memory of that lowly assassin making an attempt on her life still sent Callisto's blood boiling with rage, but he push it down in favor of finding shelter.

He came across a cave not long after his search.

There could be wild animals inside, Callisto thought warily. He shifted his hold on Penelope to bring his hand near his sword hilt before entering.

The cave stretched far, so far that Callisto couldn't see where it ended. He carefully placed Penelope against the stone wall and ventured further in.

He strained his ears and listened for the sound of a breathing creature, but heard nothing. There wasn't a distinct smell of anything living (or dead) either.

Callisto huffed. Better than the rain. An involuntary shiver went down his body and he was reminded that he was, indeed, drenched. He turned his eyes to the still unconscious Penelope, whose lips were turning a concerning blue.

Callisto looked down at his cloak which was dry thanks to the enchantment on it, and sighed. The things I do, he thought without really much a hint of irritation behind it as he replaced Penelope's wet clothes with his cloak. But then something caught his eye.

Black veins, starting light from the bottom of her face and marching down to her torso and the tip of of fingers, marked Penelope's body.

"What on earth...?" Callisto muttered. He really wanted to wonder more about them, but they were both at risk of hypothermia and Callisto preferred less near death experiences for one day.

The prince always carried flint around with him in case of emergencies, like now, but he lacked fuel. So he had venture out again to gather firewood, dry firewood, which was going to be annoying because it was raining, and thought enviously of Penelope, who could magically summon fire whenever she wanted. She would probably not make a fire out of spite if Callisto were to say that aloud to her.

He rolled his eyes and swung his sword, cutting off the driest looking branches off a tree.

—

Penelope was being swallowed up by flames.

The world around her was was on fire. Blazing branches snapped and fell around her in a circle, effectively caging her.