𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
It's the beginning of a new age when Jaylah Imperatrix seemingly returns from the dead to reclaim her throne. And in perfect timing.
In her absence, evil has be...
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Act 1 Chapter 12 JAYLAH
Even though I had been recovering on the beach for some time, it was still difficult to stand. The swords on my back felt a hundred times heavier than usual. With every raindrop that pounded into my freezing skin, I felt the temptation to sink back to the floor and sleep for a year.
Movement to my side caught my eye. Khan stood a bit farther up the beach, wiping water from his eyes. I took a few stumbling steps to him, not even feeling my own footfalls because of how numb my legs were.
"Shelter," I rasped through chattering teeth, my voice ragged from coughing up what seemed like half the sea. Even to my own ears, it was barely audible over the rain.
I watched as his gaze roved the beach, attempting to find somewhere safe. Hugging my arms around my chest for warmth, I desperately hoped we would not have to search out the nearest town for warmth.
"There," I scarcely heard him say. Across the beach was a tall cliffside with a dark entrance at the base. Smaller than a cave, but at least it was something.
Sand sifted under my uneven gait toward it. I hoped to the Gods I would not further humiliate myself and fall facedown in the sand. My boots were filled with water, making every step more uncomfortable than the last. I realized with horror that I could not feel my fingers; even as I rubbed my hands together for warmth. If I was looking elsewhere, I would not have believed they were able to move.
The rain blessedly ceased beating against me when the slightly overhanging cliff blocked the sky. And the roar of the storm quieted ever so slightly as I entered the hollow.
As soon as it was safe to, I sat on the stone floor and began to wrench at my boots, clumsily untying the laces. The first one came off, sending more seawater that seemingly possible pouring out of it. The second was no better. I attempted to move my toes, just to see if I could. They were as unmoving as death.
Out of the corner of my eye, I was aware of Khan doing the same. There was a wet slap as he threw his soaked jacket and shirt onto the stones to dry.
I was quick to shuck off my waterlogged top layer, leaving the dark shirt. I shot a quick look down at it. Not too see-through, though the way it clung at my skin underneath was extremely uncomfortable. What I really wished for was to lose the tight pants; I hated the way they became stiff with water, lessening my capacity for movement. Perhaps I was being foolish, putting my pride before my survival, but the last thing I desired to do was strip naked in front of Khan.
I heard him say, "Shit," and looked up. He had dug two firesticks from Gods-knew-where and was attempting to light them over a small pile of tinder gathered together near his kneeling knees.
