"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Delirium seemed to effect them all at some point. It had nearly hit him before now, but now it was really getting him good. He was hardly aware that he was lying prone in the same place that it all began. Blood pooled around him, draining from the bone plates that grew and shielded him. One day they would kill him, lock into place and crush him, he was sure of it.
If this plague didn't kill him first.
He was so damn hot again, inside and out. His heartbeat was so slow, pushed to stubbornly pump from the molten blood forcing it to. Those bloodshot black eyes were closed, lips parted with weak breaths. He was probably dying. Rhonen got him good this time. That bastard. At least he'd died first. Gonna call that a win.
It lifted the corner of his mouth so infinitesimally. The line of his body was blurred in a haze of heat. In random places, a small flame would flare up and lick across him only to snuff out just as unpredictable. He was too numb to notice, too lost in this heat that felt like he was finally getting sent to hell. Bout damn time, really. He was burning up.
Maybe the effects were made stronger by being here, where the ground had been soaked in Rhonen's blood and disease and an extra dose of magic. He wouldn't have a clue how he'd even gotten here unless it had called to him somehow. The delirium was real. Maybe he'd blame Leliana less for walking away. Maybe. When he could think again, see again.
There was a shadow slowly stretching over him, and he groaned so softly. "Zoryn," he rasped. He'd lost him. But Zor came back. Good. He could sleep now. Zor would guard him. He sighed and drifted into that strange sense of vertigo and peace as another flame lit across his hip, another on his belly lapping around the edge of bone armor protruding out of him.
The light, too, was there. A soft orb floating near then clinging into his hair, illuminating the stardust specks of white on his neck beside his left ear.
She should not be in this place. She should not be here amongst the sandstone caverns barely there vegetation. Winter had ravaged this land, or so it seemed, but she seen random things that she had only see at edges of the ocean. A starfish beneath a tree. A seashell and the remnants of a crab too far from the edges of the land to make sense. There were other things, like the constant smell of brine and fish and other smelly things that she was not used too.
It felt off, the undercurrents of something running beneath the surface of the soil. The scent of blood was heavy on the air and she couldn’t help but want to make sure whatever it was was okay. Her bleeding heart would get her in trouble one of these times, she just knew it. And maybe this time was it.
So she moved deeper, wary, but stubborn in her choice. So when she sees him lying in a pool of blood she only pauses a moment to check her surroundings before she goes to him. She moves quickly but she is careful when she gets to the blood, sees some of it dried and staining the ground while other bits of it are fresh, from the bone armor plates growing across his skin.
She frowns at this, and frowns again when he says a name that certainly isn’t her. He was sick. Her nose pressing against his neck and then his face feeling the heat that emanated from him
before she even presses her lips there to his skin. His eyes blinking shut completely and his body relaxing as he drifted off into a sleep.
She huffs softly. She has no healing magic, just the immortality that ran through her veins keeping her young, even as her triplet sisters aged. The thought saddened her immensely. For now though, this stallion laying like a babe was going to be her priority. So she stands near him, letting her eyes roam and wander as she kept look out for the stallion that couldn’t keep a lookout for himself.
She checks on him periodically, her lips finding some part of him to touch, to check, because she is a naturally touchy girl and it soothes her to do so. A soft humming coming from her throat as she filled the quiet of the land around her with a soft melody that had been sung to her so long ago.
The fever came and went. Along with it, his ability to keep track of time. What is real and what is a hallucination. When he's asleep or awake. He should have guessed drinking from the river in this god awful place would make things worse, but he had been so thirsty. He didn't remember when he'd lost Dovev. One minute, he'd thought he was right beside him, and the next, he'd awoken and the bone man was gone. Zor called for him, and sometimes he thought he'd answered, but the fever would take him and he was left only in darkness.
His body aches all over. He's cold and hot all at the same time. A thin sheen of sweat gives his gold and white coat a sickly shimmer. He's losing weight. Everything seems toxic here, including the grass. Currently, at least for now, he is on his feet and moving. A cool breeze flows over the land, and he shivers. He hates the way he feels, wishes he had never come here. Has to get out. Find Dov. Dizzy, and his baby girls. He hopes they aren't suffering the same fate as he. Should never have left them. His fault. All his fault.
Through the awful haze in his mind, his eyes scan ahead. Has to blink away the blurriness. Doesn't work, shakes his head. Tries to focus. Several yards away, a body lays on the ground. Diseased and weak. Black, bone-white. He coughs in an attempt to clear his lungs. Stumbles. Oh, this has to end. Will it get worse? Kill him? No, he can't die. His girls need him. He needs..
Dov's scent reaches his nose, and he hones in on it. Back to the body laid out. A mare stands near him. A growl rumbles from his lips, the first sound from him in he doesn't know how long. He doesn't care who she is, only focuses on the man on the ground. He seems to know he's there, calls for him. Zor moves in with ears flattened against his black hair caked to his neck, head lowered and teeth bared at the female who feels the need to keep touching that which is not hers.
He growls again before he reaches Dov, pressing his muzzle to the stars behind his ear. "Dovev. You have to get up." His tone is low and deep as he breathes warmth into Dov's skin. "We can't stay here." His teeth scrape against skin, and he lifts his head, eyeing the girl once more. "We need to go. Now." She could include herself in that 'we' if she wanted, he supposes. Just now, he doesn't care. Only concerns himself with trying to get his friend up. He meant it. Feels that every moment they stay here makes the sickness worse. Lowering his head once more, he shoves at Dovev until he gets some response. "Get. Up. We have to move." His eyes jump to the painted girl again, who might be attractive if he had the mind to pay attention to that right now. He glares as if to say 'why aren't you helping?' and goes back to nudging the bone man. "Up." He insists. Won't settle for less. He would figure a way to carry him out if he must.
He had only a bare second to realize that scent touching him was not actually Zoryn before he'd drifted swiftly unconscious.
Sometimes he'd nearly wake, feeling more touches on him. They hadn't felt threatening, soft and steady and even earning a hum in his throat when they passed over the most sensitive parts of his overly-sensitive skin. Goddamn, an angel of death must have been tormenting him, singing him into complacency like a siren and occasionally touching over the skin that flared up all kinds of heat inside him. Really sexy kinds.
"Mmmm.."
Fuck. His Dagger was gonna kill him.
Well, he was dying today anyway so that's cool. Get in line.
No, he was kidding. Don't remember that part.
He might have lost consciousness again, but he was back at that familiar growl. A warmth cooler than his hot skin pressed behind his ear and he startled with a small jerk and a grunt. Then he softened and groaned. Zoryn. "The angel comes to take me away," he mumbled helpfully. But wait. An angel would more likely kill him. Do they kill stuff? He frowned. Well, fuck. Now he was confused.
Zoryn's teeth drug over his skin then his voice sounded far away as he addressed someone else. Oh yeah! His angel. Or not-angel. Maybe his reaper. Do those sing? They definitely kill stuff. Pretty sure.
"That's mine," he said with a little scowl, eyes still closed. She'd come here for him. She can't take Zor, no way. Kill Dov instead.
He grunted again as someone started fuckin' shoving at him. Fuck! Rude. Trying to sleep here. Or trying to die here. Either way, this would end today and it would be so wonderful. Goddamn, there must be three or four of them. They seemed fuckin' strong. A hell of a lot stronger than Dov was even when he attempted to scoot up to a sit for appearances. See? He was trying.
He was definitely gonna lay back down when they left.
"Just a little nap, though. Up later."
He still couldn't find the energy to open his eyes, and his head hung limply. By some miracle or curse, he'd managed to prop up in a way that no longer took an effort to hold himself that way. Mm, good. Nap time.
"Mmk, Angel," he mumbled as if she'd said something to him. Had she? Possibly. He was pretty sure. "That's mine," he repeated once more because it just made sense to.
She is quiet, softly humming while she waits for him to wake. Maybe she could get him up and get him out of his place. Something trembled along her nerves, sending icy fingers down her spine. It gave off an aura of menace that only growed the longer she stayed here. So she hummed, mostly to keep the quiet of the land from getting to her, but she also hummed to soothe the stallion as he fever-slept.
Until. Another one found his way towards them. He growled at her, and she merely flattened her ears in response, not backing down. She flashes him her own set of teeth, hooves stomping suddenly protective, and willing to fight if she had to. But the moment passes and it’s obvious this is who the bone stallion had been calling for earlier and now Zoryn was trying to get them both up and out.
She could see that he was sick too, not just with the sweat darkening his skin but it was a glassy look in his eyes. She wonders how long it will take to effect her too.
She immediately is pulled from her thoughts when the other stallion, Zor, gives her that look to help and she presses her lips down against Dovev’s neck. She laughs when he fever-talks, a soft rumbling in her throat. “Come on Dovev.” Her lips touching his cheek. “I’ve come to take you away, but you have to get up and walk first.”
She presses against his neck, teeth dragging against his skin before she pinches him at his crest. “Come. We have to go now.” Her eyes meeting the other stallion’s as she gives Dovev another push, sliding down onto her knees and then looping her head and neck beneath his gently. “I’ll help, but you gotta get up.”
