Dragons, Dystopians, and Denial

"So anyways," he continued on with a long story about how he saved a cat from the clutches of an animal he described to be like a mutated bear. "I grab the cat from it and it roars, but..." She began to zone him out.

A pang of uneasiness ran through Jerica. She wasn't even sure what tipped her off, but something was there. Elias stopped talking as she stood in her stirrups, yanking a throwing blade from her belt as her head snapped towards the left, looking for whatever it was that was watching them. She spotted a man trying, and failing, to hide behind a tree. She pulled her arm back to throw the blade, but froze when she heard the twang of a bow being drawn behind her, off to the right of the path.

"I wouldn't, if I were you."

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath. She was usually better than this. For them to get on both sides of her without her noticing? She mentally kicked herself for being so sloppy in monitoring their surroundings, but turned her head.

Men were wandering out in the road in front of them. She spotted the archer in the tree line off to the right. Men were behind them now, too. They'd walked straight into an ambush. She still had her arm pulled back, but she wasn't sure where she even intended to plant the blade. What if there was a second archer somewhere?

No sooner than she'd had the thought, she spotted another archer off to her left, and then a third one a bit further ahead. She couldn't take them all out before one of them got an arrow in her. She sighed and sat back in her saddle, letting her arm fall to the side, even though she kept her grasp on the blade.

If she wasn't injured -- and if she didn't have anyone else to worry about -- she would have tried her luck. But she was injured. And she did have someone she was responsible for.

"Good choice." A man swaggered to the front of the group and stopped a few strides ahead of them, smirking at them. He crossed his arms as he assessed them. So smug. Cocky in his men's ability to protect him.

"Look." Jerica sighed heavily, looking around them. There were easily twenty-five men boxing them in, some further up the hill or down the road a bit, but close enough to count. There was only one name that came to mind for what sort of outlaw would have this many men in his employ. "Let's just not and say we didn't."

"Or we could and say we did," he countered.

"I thought you only stole from the rich?" Jerica raised an eyebrow, putting her left hand down on the horn to stabilize herself as her head started to feel light again.

"You know me?"

"Jayk."

He inclined his head with another smirk. "In the flesh."

Jayk's name would live in infamy for many years after he died. He'd been in Swaltou for years and yet somehow managed to avoid every single government that tried to capture him. He'd been collecting more and more men for his band of outlaws as the years stretched on. She didn't particularly mind his philosophy -- take from the rich to aid the needy -- and she'd have been fine with it if he wanted to rob her uncle. But she needed everything that she had left.

"Do we look rich to you?" she asked.

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?" he countered. "Princesses tend to be, no?"

It was hardly surprising he'd recognized her, too, but she wasn't quite sure how to talk her way out of this mess now that she knew for sure that they knew who she was. She watched him for another moment. He seemed familiar, but her vision swam too much for her to figure out exactly who it was that he looked like. Aerik?

"That would be kings that you're thinking of," she quipped back. She gestured at her bloody abdomen, still holding on to the knife. "I'm down to my last tunic, and it's not holding up too well as it is."

"No, it doesn't seem to be," Jayk agreed, craning his neck to look at her. "Doesn't look like anything about you is holding up too well."

She sighed again.

So, it was going to be a fight. He thought she was too injured to manage to get away. And she didn't know how it was, exactly, that she was going to prove him wrong. But she'd be damned if he thought he was going to take her rum or her weapons.

"Don't test it," she said tiredly. Men had one of two reactions to recognizing her: running away in fear, as they should -- or wanting to fight her. To appease their little egos. And she wasn't in the mood. "We both know I can't just let you walk off with the last of our shit. Is it really worth it to see how many of your men I'll take out before one of them can take me down?"

Jayk pursed his lips, shifting his weight from his heels to the balls of his feet then back again. "I'm not looking for a fight, Princess... Assassin... General? Which is it that people are actually supposed to call you?"

"I'd prefer if you just said 'bye' rather than call me anything."

"I heard you were witty. Am not disappointed." Jayk smirked. He spread his arms out, making a point of showing that he hadn't drawn his sword. "Honestly? We'd let a sorry lot like you pass by if you were anyone else."

Jerica sighed again.

"Buuuut," Jayk said, reaching up to scratch his scruffy chin. "We saw a dead Scelinon a ways back and thought you might have had something to do with it. Don't know anyone else who can gut one like you did and live to tell the tale... though, it looks like your tale almost gutted you. How much blood you lose?"

She snorted. As if she'd tell him that.

"And despite all that, it looks like your companion here seems surprisingly unscathed through it all." He turned his gaze on Elias. "You didn't help her at all, did you?"

Elias froze, watching the conversation bounce back and forth between Jerica and the man, Jayk, until somehow it landed back on him. His eyes darted between the two of them.

"I did after she killed the thing, he said with a small nervous laugh.

Jerica eyed Jayk, trying to gauge what he was trying to get at. Maybe he just thought Elias got scared. Or, maybe he thought Elias wasn't able to help. And she wasn't sure she liked either implication. She'd rather Jayk think he was dealing with two skilled warriors at the very least -- not a recruit and a severely injured assassin.

"I'm not sure what it is you're trying to imply, Jayk," she said crisply, trying to draw the attention back to herself. It always seemed to end badly when Elias started talking to people. Even though he'd done surprisingly okay with that question. "Would anything about my track record suggest that my men are anything less than excellent? Are you doubting my training regime?"

She wasn't sure how Elias would react to her pretending to be his commanding officer, but she hoped to death he'd be smart enough to go along with it. Especially since they were screwed if Jayk decided to call her bluff. Elias was nowhere near ready for combat -- especially not with this kind of ratio.

"Of course not." Jayk smirked again. "Everyone knows that your reputation precedes you, General."

She kept her eyes locked on him, wishing he'd shut up. She wasn't sure how many times Jayk could say 'General' before Elias finally noticed, but that was a detail he didn't need to have. Although, at this point, what did it matter?

"Good," she answered, forcing her expression to stay stern. The exertion of maintaining this facade was exhausting her. She was still in far, far too much pain to have to pretend that she wasn't. "Then you'll know he followed his orders exactly."

Kind of. He'd stayed out of her way, anyway.

"The..." she tried to remember what he'd called it. "Scelinon is dead, so there's nothing left to discuss. And, you're welcome, by the way."

"For?" He smirked again.

"Getting it out of your hair. I know it didn't show up overnight and, as you said, not many people can do what I did." She glanced around, deciding to push her luck. "Which means, I believe you owe me one. So..."

She squeezed her legs, urging Evan a single step forward.

Tensions rose in a single instant. She heard yet another bowstring draw somewhere behind her, and the men all raised their swords a bit. She took a deep breath. Her hand was trembling, making the tip of her knife scratch the edge of her saddle.

"Not so quick," Jayk said smugly, thoroughly enjoying the fact that he was in control of this situation. "This is the most interesting stop we've had, maybe ever. I'm in no rush for it to be over."

"I am," she answered tersely.

"Then I suggest you get yourself an army," Jayk looked around, rubbing in the fact that they were severely outmanned. His men chuckled. He looked back at her. "Or, at least, that you bring yours with you. A whole army at your disposal and you really chose to only bring one man?"

"I don't answer to you."

"No," he agreed. "But you will answer my questions, if you want to get past." He swaggered forward a bit, turning his attention back on Elias. "I'm particularly interested to know more about you. Who might you be?"

"He's--"

Jayk waved his hand, cutting her off. "I don't want to hear from you."

She narrowed her eyes at him, tightening her grasp on the knife. She couldn't take on all of the men, but it might be satisfying to at least know he died with her. And, Elias would heal himself, even if he got hurt. So, all things considered --

She shook away the idea. He'd just starve to death out here, even if the bandits couldn't kill him. She had to do what was best for him. She'd promised Aerik.

"So, why you?" Jayk continued, fixing his gaze on Elias. "Out of all the soldiers she commands, why would she pick you? Name, rank, and why you matter, soldier."

Elias didn't like to be put on the spot. But it appeared that he had no choice, even when Jerica tried to answer for him.

Why you? Jayk had asked. Great question. He asked himself that question everyday.

Elias nervously smiled, eyes darting between the two of them as he tried to think of something reasonable that would fit with Jerica's narrative. He only hoped that it made sense, considering he didn't really know much about the mechanics of her army. He didn't even really understand her role.

"I'm a combat medic," he said casually. "She doesn't exactly need an army to fight things, but she does need someone to help patch her up if she gets hurt." He shrugged. "It's a decent system since I also get personalized training."

Jerica hoped to the gods Elias would make up a believable story. At this point, she wished she had told him more of the truth. She took a deep breath and repositioned the knife in her hand, hoping she wouldn't have to use it.

Combat medic? She looked over at him, dread settling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know what that was. Which meant Jayk wouldn't either. She listened intently to every last word Elias said, slowly realizing what he was talking about.

"Combat medic..." Jayk repeated.

"Physician," Jerica cut in.

"Oh, I put that together," Jayk said. "Don't worry, I'm not quite as dumb as you think I am."

"Never said you were dumb." Jerica swallowed hard. In fact, she was quite certain it was the exact opposite. And smart criminals were much, much harder to go up against.

"Then, do you really think I'm going to believe." Jayk turned back to face her. "That you're out here to do whatever it is that you're doing, anticipate that it'll be dangerous enough that you'll need a medic, but didn't bring any backup with you?"

"Again, I don't answer to you." A sudden spout of light-headedness struck her. She tightened her grasp on the horn, but couldn't stop from wobbling in the saddle before she caught herself. She swallowed hard, setting her jaw as she looked down at him as condescendingly as she could manage.

His expression softened.

"Alright, I've had my fun. Let's get you back to the camp, I've got a healer who can help you."

"Hard pass," Jerica snorted. She wasn't going to make a move that stupid, which he knew. So she didn't know why he was even suggesting it.

"You need actual medical attention," Jayk said. "Let me help you."

"I don't need anything from anyone," she snapped. "And I certainly don't need anything from you. If you want to help, let us past."

"Stop being an Ainsley for like three seconds and actually think instead of being stubborn, why don't you?"

"Oh, hmm, let's think-aloud shall we?" she retorted. "Should I, or should I not, throw myself entirely at the mercy of a band of outlaws who are at this very moment trying to rob me?"

"We're not going to rob you, just like we're not going to hurt you," Jayk answered. "If you'll recall, I said ordinarily we'd let people that look as tattered as you pass by."

"And yet you didn't let us by."

"Because I want to help you."

Jerica snorted. "You're not fooling anyone, Jayk. I know your reputation."

"Then you'll know I don't have a reputation for hurting people down on their luck." Jayk uncrossed his arms and pulled up his right tunic sleeve a bit, rubbing his wrist as he strode a bit further forward until he was just in front of their knees, between the horses. "I promise no harm will come to you or to your friend. It is my obligation, and my honor, to aid you."

"Why should I believe you?"

Jayk glanced around to be sure none of his men were at an angle that they'd be able to see, then tilted his wrist towards them. For a moment his wrist lit up with the glowing blue outline of the crest of the Guild of Kyrkkini, then it disappeared again.

Jerica looked at him another moment, then inclined her head. "Fine. But I will tell her, if you so much as touch my rum."

Jayk chuckled. "Fair terms."

He turned and strode back out from between the horses, then down the road a bit. "Come on. We're only a few miles from the camp."

Jerica looked at him, then over at Elias. There was far, far too much to even try to explain just then. And, she was exhausted. She slid her knife back in the belt. "We can trust him."

Well, it appeared the combat medic was not a good answer. Elias watched as the two of them bickered back and forth until, finally, Jayk revealed that he was here to help. This was only reaffirmed after Jerica seemed to turned to him to confirm that they could trust him.

"How do you know him?" he asked under his breath as he strode Mellie up to her.

“I don’t,” Jerica admitted quietly. She pressed her right fist against her burnt side, wishing the throbbing would stop. She’d been entirely too tense this entire conversation.

She glanced around to make sure none of Jayk’s men were near enough to overhear.

“But he’s in the Guild, which means he won’t hurt us...” She looked at Elias, deadly serious. “And it is very, very important that you don’t mention that to anyone. Ever. Okay?”

Elias shrugged, although there was still a lot he didn't understand. He didn't understand how she was able to bring the dagger hot enough to be cauterized, or how Jerica was able to trust Jayk so easily, or what exactly was in the Guild. He only knew bits and pieces, and it seemed like so much had happened the past few days. It was getting to be a bit much.

"Okay," he said softly, riding alongside her. "I trust you."

Jerica glanced at him. She was still so perplexed by being with someone who hadn't spent their entire life -- well, her entire life -- building up hatred for her. No one ever trusted her. In fact, people seemed to find great joy in reminding her how little they trusted her. And now here he was...

She smiled at him a bit and nodded, but otherwise didn't respond.

Her vision was getting hazy. She focused on her breathing, vaguely keeping track of the path they were taking so that she'd be able to backtrack to get to the path again, but mostly just trying to find the strength to stay upright in the saddle. The interaction had taken a surprising amount out of her.

Eventually, they came upon a nice camp. There were a handful of men milling about, but not many beyond the band that they were with. Jayk turned back towards her. "Well, here it is. Home sweet home."

Jerica raised her eyebrows. "I was under the impression you had more manpower."

"Oh, we do," Jayk said, walking up to hold on to Evan's bridle. "But we don't keep all our eggs in one basket -- or, men in one camp. It's easier to scatter if soldiers find us."

"Fair." Jerica took a deep breath, realizing that she had to actually get down off Evan now. She gritted her teeth and swung her leg over his back, cringing. Her legs buckled the instant she hit the ground. She grabbed the saddle to stabilize herself, but it made her side scream in pain.

Jayk seemed to anticipate that she'd have trouble, and stepped forward swiftly, wrapping his right arm around her back to catch her. He slowly lifted her upright, so she could straighten her legs and support her own weight.

She took a deep breath, her entire body trembling as she started sweating again. She swallowed hard and looked at Jayk, giving him an appreciative nod. He inclined his head, stepping away from her. "We need to get you patched up now. Leave your horses, my men can handle them."

He held out an arm to her, but she was too proud to take it. She straightened her shoulders and took several slow, deliberate steps forward. Jayk started towards the center of the camp, careful to stay easily within reach if she ended up needing help.

"Glynn!" Jayk shouted. "We need you!"

There was a rustling up ahead.

Jerica stumbled. Jayk stepped forward, wrapping his arm around Jerica, almost seeming like a hug rather than like he was helping her along. Sparing her pride. She wrapped her left arm around him and looked up at him, taking another step forward.

He had brown hair and a scruffy beard, and sharp green eyes. "You look like a Munen."

Jayk looked down at her, eyes intense as they locked on hers. "You only know of one Munen," he said firmly, then lowered his voice. "But yes."

Jerica nodded, pleased that she figured out who he was. "Did he tell you I was coming?"

Jayk inclined his head. "He said it was a possibility you might be passing through."

"He say why?" Jerica's head felt so light, and she was grateful for the stability that Jayk offered so that she wouldn't stumble again.

Jayk glanced over her shoulder, presumably looking at Elias, but she couldn't be bothered to turn to figure out where he'd gone. "No. But I have assumptions."

Jerica nodded.

"Save your strength," Jayk murmured. "There's plenty of time for chatting later."

They walked a bit further, then were met by an aging man. He was a few inches shorter than Jerica and had rich brown skin and a long mane of dark gray hair that was braided and pulled back into a messy ponytail. He looked past her, eyes cloudy.

"Glynn," Jayk said, gesturing at him. "Jerica."

Glynn smiled, bowing slightly, though he wasn't quite facing her. "An honor."

He's blind.

"She's injured," Jayk explained.

"Come, come, sit," Glynn said, not waiting to hear more. "Let's get you patched up, dearie."

Jerica smiled a bit, letting Jayk lower her to the ground. Glynn's hand landed on her cheek, gentle, then he moved it to hover over her body, humming a bit. He inhaled sharply. "What happened to you?"

"She thought it'd be a good idea to fight a Scelinon," Jayk answered for her.

Glynn shook his head. "Seems like you both lost that one. Lay down."

Jerica slowly laid back with a grunt, pain stabbing through her side again. Glynn's fingertips gently brushed her side, then he cringed. "Cauterized?"

"It was bleeding a lot," Jerica explained.

Glynn nodded. "Alright. I can work with this. You ready?"

"Wait." She tipped her head back to look at upside-down Jayk, wondering where Elias was -- she figured he was nearby, but couldn't quite see him at her current angle. "Hold me down."

Jayk sank to his knees behind her and grabbed both of her elbows.

"You're not strong enough to hold me down by yourself," Jerica murmured. "Not for how bad this'll hurt."

Jayk hesitated, then nodded. "You might be right."

Jayk moved around to her right side and firmly pressed down on her shoulder and her arm just above the elbow, pinning her to the ground. He looked up. "Get her other arm."

Elias was standing behind Jerica the whole time, not sure what he was supposed to do. He had gotten off Mellie and handed the ropes over, but two people were softly speaking to Jerica and whisking her away. What was he supposed to do? Follow? Go somewhere else?

It wasn't like he knew anyone else, so he meekly followed behind Jerica, feeling a bit out of place. They didn't seem to notice him, but he did garner enough information to understand that she was being healed. How, he didn't know. He didn't think it was wise to ask, either, but considering that she had somehow magically heated up the metal part of her dagger to cauterize her wound, the question blurted out of his mouth.

"How is she going to get healed?" he asked, interrupting the flow of the conversation as the blind old man waved his hands in front of her.

"The R'hyk," Jayk answered tersely, nodding down to her shoulder. "Now hold her down so we can do it. She's laying her in pain for no reason."

"The R'hyk," Elias repeated plainly like it was supposed to answer everything. He did as Jayk told him to do and kneeled down to hold down Jerica's shoulder, briefly making eye contact with her.

It took him a few seconds before he realized what that meant, and his eyes widened ever-so-slightly.

"Magic?" he asked, turning back towards Jayk.

"Do you always ask so many questions?" Jayk asked skeptically.

"Yes," Jerica answered, then looked back at Elias. "And yes. And hold on tighter this is going to be... bad."