Honor, Oath, & Blood

Chapter 4

Everything felt...wrong, hollow somehow. Gylledra was in bed, daylight shone through the window and there were the murmuring voices of Nasorya, Varok, and one she thought might be Pava, coming from the main room. Weakness weighed heavily on every part of her and there were only bits and pieces of memory from the storm. Though, mixed in were the memories leading up to it. She pushed herself up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, gathering the gumption to go further.

The weakness was disconcerting, but finally, Gylledra got to her feet. She was wearing only a linen shirt that hung mid-thigh as she slowly moved toward the doorway, which she gripped, taking another moment to breathe. It was then she realized her pendant was missing, and she gasped, almost falling. Looking toward the bed in a panic, she saw it on the bedside table, the stone was dark and she could only stare. It had been the only thing allowing her to be away from the Nightwell, it had fed the dependence she'd developed on its power, the dependence all Nightborne had developed. Without a potent source of arcane, she would begin to wither.

Pushing herself, Gylledra moved into the main room of the cabin. Nasorya and Pava appeared to be intently bickering over a map and Varok was unimpressed. Seeing movement out the corner of his eye, he did a doubletake.

"Gylledra..." He moved quickly as she stepped into the room, her knees nearly buckling. He caught her, and she leaned against him, shirt riding up somewhat. Pava and Nasorya whirled around, eyes wide.

"What happened?" Gylledra demanded, holding up the inert necklace.

"You're not wearing pants." Nasorya declared.

"So? Everyone here's seen me naked." Gylledra rolled her eyes.

"Um, I have not, and do not wish to." Pava shook her head then frowned. "Wait, what?"

"Then I apologize in advance, pants seem beyond my current capabilities." She replied. "What happened to my pendant? Why is it dark?!"

"I think it was drained..." Nasorya fidgeted, looking anxious. Varok helped Gylledra into a chair and she stiffened a little.

"What's the matter?" He frowned.

"The chair is cold, and, as Nasorya helpfully pointed out, I'm not wearing pants." She arched a brow at him and he turned away before anyone could catch the brief smirk.

"You summoned Etzanel." Nasorya told her at last.

"I did what?"

"He wasn't pleased about it, you were invoking, he did whatever you commanded but...I imagine whatever he did in retaliation..."

"Damn it." Gylledra sighed and rubbed her face, already feeling exhausted.

"What does that mean, though?" Varok asked. She shook her head and looked up at him.

"That I will likely die." There was no jest in her voice and he stared for a moment.

"Is there nothing that can be done?"

"Not on a ship in the middle of the sea where there is no source of arcane." She couldn't fathom why she'd have thought it a good idea to summon Etzanel. He was a vicious Void Revenant who loathed her with an incredible intensity. Drinking had obviously been a terrible idea, one which seemed likely to cost Gylledra her life.

"Do you remember nothing of what happened that night?" Varok asked. Meeting his eyes again, she wondered if he meant the storm or what came before it.

"I remember everything but the storm, of which there are only fragments and flashes." She told him. He nodded. Yes, what happened between them was still vivid in her memory. She added more quietly: "At least it was a good night until the storm. I wouldn't change that."