17: Foggy Slime

Author's Note: We have not seen this character before. But in our last chapter, centered on Stellina, Iridea, and Hawthorne, the group escaped from Xeoserps that had surrounded Iridea's house, taking with them Evelena's sword.

17

Lillian

Well, that was an interesting night. I don’t remember any of it. 

As the sun rises, so do I. In control. In pain, always pain; lancing through my body, especially after nights like that. Blood seeps from my wounds, flowing like lava as it pulses out of my body in a red hot stream. My shirt hangs off of my waist in tatters, exposing my chest to the pine needle floor. My pants are ripped, again. I’ll have to patch them up when I get back. Stabs of poignant pain rush over me, again and again, turning the frigid air against my skin to a metallic, burning heat. 

I push myself off of the wet ground with my left arm, my right arm is a mournful stub, as it has been for almost a year now. Blood mats hair to my face. Ripples of disgust drip with my blood at the feeling of my matted hair’s crusty, clammy texture against my forehead. I swipe some moss from the forest floor and stuff it in my wounds with a wince. It should ease the bleeding so I can get back to Cedar before things get too serious.

Now. Where am I? Pushing past the blinding flashes of heated agony, I observe the environment I’ve woken to.

Everything looks the same as anything else. Trees stretch in every direction around me. Sure, each of them are different but none of them are familiar. However, I can tell by the colours and patterns of this forest that I’m still in Finmork. Which is good. I don’t know how I’d get back if I were anywhere else.

I find the sun through a break in the knitted branches, it helps me pinpoint where north is. Grot should be northeast, so I wobble to face my supposed destination and begin to trudge that way. It shouldn’t take too long; it never gets very far without one of my arms to assist. 

My clothing hangs off of me, half of my body pulses into numbness, memories from last night are covered in this foggy slime that I can’t seem to break through. I stumble along this makeshift path of mine, a headache adding to my toil. Every once and a while, a tree lends its bark as a friendly resting point where I can lean all my weight against its firm frame.

A year ago I would have absolutely freaked. But this is just life now. And life keeps moving. Step by step, I’ll get back to Grot eventually with my broken body where Cedar can fix me up as she always does and Kenneth can try to act like he’s not freaking out, as he always does. But I can never go back home.