02-25-2016, 10:30 PM
all that we have amassed sits before us, shattered into ash
Leaving the Valley had been her priority, before Eight threw up his protective barrier. Certainly she would have been able to come to and from the kingdom if she so pleased, but she just couldn’t be damned to ask him for special permissions. Besides… with her abilities, it would be wrong for her to sit aside while her kingdom mates and their allies were being hurt, maimed, and even killed. She can heal after all; there may be magicians on their side, but they will be utilizing their talents elsewhere. She can heal them. She can help.
She had met with Flamevein, only briefly, before they set out to their neighboring kingdom. A simple request and she has a beacon of the pyro’s flames surrounding her like a flaming orb. She can see through them, just as anyone could see her inside the flames, but hopefully the inferno will drive them away from her; she will not be fighting, anyhow. The circlet of flame is only a protective measure. It will keep her safe and burn anyone who tries to attack her; she will be safe to help her family. That is what matters.
Flamebrand had protested up a storm when she had told him he must remain home, but he, too, had to be protected. “But I have wings!” he had cried, indignant, but Cress had been adamant. “And they have magicians,” she had countered, and though he was angry, he had finally agreed to remain behind. He is too young to fight—she is too frail to be a part of the fight, really, but who was there to tell her to go home? No one. Her mother is dead and her father vanished… she is the one who must protect herself now. She has to protect Flamebrand and she has to protect herself.
She arrives not long after the fighting begins, and already it is bloody. There is a lioness—no, four of them—a tiger, and horses, and it appears that all but the lions are on their side. The Chamber is burning, but the waves of heat don’t even break against Cress’ barrier (not that she isn’t already toasty inside a ball of flame!). Swiftly she focuses on the injured—the stallion who had been ravaged by the lioness’ claws is her first priority. Blood is spurting rapidly from his wounds and she zeroes in on him, staying well away from the bloodstained battle arena that they have carved from the Chamber floor. Heal, and continue on, is the message she sends to him with her healing touch, cringing away from the pain herself.
Empathy. God-forsaken empathy. Why had she allowed the Valley to bestow upon her empathy, of all things? She can feel their pain—all of their pain—as if it is her own and it is excruciating. But she has to soldier on. For them. She cannot allow them to fail.
To the others she sends a breath of fresh air, a surge of healing to boost their own energy. None are as hurt as the wolf-stallion who initiated the burning, though Killdare’s wings could probably use a bit of a time out. She sends a little extra to him, just in case.
With that, she herself taps out, fading back into the shadows. The battle will be a long and difficult one, and if she is to keep up with all of their injuries, she will need to rest herself and take it easy between surges.
If they come for her, they’ll find she has a few tricks of her own up her sleeve.
cress
oxytocin x kindling
infected.