Witt Will Not Save You (Adventure and Romance)

Part 20

Maive had only been asleep for no longer than half an hour when something woke her. At first she thought it was Harlen and her cheeks flushed as she jolted up right. But there was no one else in the small tent but her. She could of sworn she heard someone speak or whisper, the lightest of whispers, not even that. She suddenly felt cold even in her jacket and thick pants as well as the warmed atmosphere of the tent. But it wasn't just a physical coldness, she felt it in her chest. In her blood. 

Before Maive could think she was standing, then she was walking. She walked right out the tent and let her eyes adjust. To her surprise no one, not Harlen or any of the collectors were around. The feeling of coldness in her chest grew and what accompanied it made Maive's heart skip a beat. A definite whisper of voices caressed her ear, she could not make out what the voices were saying she only knew they did not belong to any human. The voices were dangerous, ethereal and luring. Maive's feet were once again moving, the forest or rather what lurked within the forest was calling to Maive, beckoning her and she was powerless to resist it.

Maive had walked a fair distance away from the tent, she was completely hypnotized by the dark feeling growing inside her. Emotions were on high and she felt as if she could feel all the sadness and anger and despair that she had ever felt come simmering to the surface. The voices were now violently humming in her ears, like a crescendo of thoughts. But above everything else the most crushing weight in her chest was the aching feeling of guilt. All the guilt that she felt about her village, its people, her life was amplified by a thousand. Why had she been so mischievous and troublesome, thieving not just for food and clothing but for spite and  for sport. No wonder she had spent all those years alone, she had always thought that being alone was better than having someone she cared about walk out of her life. The voices, the thoughts and the feelings, the pain, the guilt was so overwhelming. She deserved to be alone. She was filth, she was scum she was a disgusting excuse for a life and all she wanted to do was for everything to stop, all she wanted to do was-

Large hands were on her, trying to pin her down, struggling against her skin. It had stopped finally, the pain and the voices were gone but she was still screaming, screaming? when had she started screaming she thought. And just like that her senses had returned and she realized where she was, she was on the ground with her hands pinned above her head. And above her was Harlen who's perfectly sculpted face was pale and painted in worry. His breathing matched her own, deep withered panting. He moved his broad hands so that he was holding both her writs in one while the other every so slowly attempted to remove Maive's grip on her sword, which she did not know she was holding. Their eyes watching each others movements, he made sure she did not make any sudden movements while she was trying to comprehend that this man was practically straddling her. She slowed her breaths trying to refocus when realization of what she had done, what she tried to do, hit her. She let her head fall back to the earth and closed her eyes as she sighed in relief. Relief that Harlen had stopped her before she could do what she was about to do. Harlen knew that she had realized what had happened, only when he was sure that she was out of the trance and that she wasn't going to harm herself did he lift off of her.