3. Trauma

Trauma

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    • Don't… think you've won...
      The man falls on the floor after his last strangled words of agony, his own blood tinting his dark shrine. Gaerielle stays still with her sword in her hand, panting and shaking, before she falls herself, her heavy armor keeping her from the pool of blood just like it had protected her from the man's last blows. She coughs a few times, holding herself up with two shaking arms, trying to chase away the terror that the man's somber prayers had forced into her spirit. Soon they would fade. And this would be just one more bad memory.

    _- A wandering priest ?
    She blinked surprisedly, slightly raising her brows, and watches her father with curious eyes. He nods, smiling, and turns his attention back to the cow he was milking while he explains.

    • Yes, he was walking by and saw tha' good old Betany here wasn't feelin'good, ya know ?
      He pats the back of his cow affectuously with one hand, chuckling.
    • She's feeling fine now, see ? He's a good man, said he'd stay 'while. To deal with tha place's problems, ya know ? Before he'd walk on. Good practice for him, he said.
      She nods hesitantly. There weren't many people stopping at their small farming village - hardly a village, even. She was surprised that a cleric would be interested in staying around. But then again, the village sure could use another healer's help. She had been taught how to ease the pain and close the wounds in the time spent around Jiyyd, but healing diseases wasn't something she could do. She smiles softly, tilting her head, and watches the peaceful cow that had been laying and panting on the grass the day before. Yes, this was a good thing. She finally nods joyfully and turns, making a few steps towards the house where she'd help her mother with the cooking. But she stops and turns back to give her father a questioning look.
    • Practice he said ? That's an unusual term._

    She almost crawls away from the unholy shrine, progressively gathering her thoughts, and stops a moment to try to catch her breath. She couldn't focus enough to heal her own wounds anymore, her throat was dry from incantating in the very melodic way she had been taught by Lilly, when she had first come to Jiyyd. After some time she finally finds the strength to stand up though, and limps slowly back towards the village, helping herself with her long sword as if it was a stick. The nightmare was reaching an end… almost. She turns her head to the side and watches the rabbit coming to her with dispair in her eyes. Hardly any hair on it, its skin pale and its eyes injected with blood. Undead animals. What madness could lead a man to create such abominations ? She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, letting her sword fall down on he undead more than she swings it, and falls heavily again. She couldn't make it, not carrying so much weight. Panting, she moves her hand slowly to unstrap her armor, only a few inches and some long grass separating her face on the ground from the one of half a lifeless rabbit, its red iris staring accusingly at her.

    Gaerielle's father stares silently at her, concern obvious in his eyes, while her mother contains her tears. She finishes to strap the half plate with a sad determination, trying not to show her own worry. She had faced worse already than a mad priest, a couple of years ago. With friends at her side, that was a fact. But she had learned how to deal with Evil. She takes her sword solemnly and walks away, unwilling to speak to her parents before she'd leave. She didn't want it to sound as if she wasn't coming back. Just a walk, and a little duel, to save her home village. She raises her voice and lets out clear notes while she walks down the path, her own words giving her the courage she needed to advert her eyes from the corpses surrounding her. Cows, horses, birds… What had first seemed to be a stranged disease had quickly spread like a plague to all the animals. Livid and weak, they had attacked the few villagers, forcing them to kill their only means of survival. And to kill them again, over and over, the undead creatures endlessly raising back. Now the meat was becoming rare, and this had to end. And she was going to end it.

    She opens the door weakly and shakingly, but her warmest smile on her lips, and allows herself a sigh of relief. She had made it back, and the village would be safe now. She had made it.

    • Mom ? Mom, I'm ba…
      She stops, her voice dying as her widening eyes fall on the corpse of her mother. She sways a bit, turning pale, feeling her stomache couldn't bear the sight more than her heart, but unable to look away. Only one sudden thought makes her return to reality, only to bring her more dispair. She looks hysterically around, fearing to find her father cut in two and mutilated with the same savagery that had got to her mother.
    • Dad ? Dad !
      She suddenly holds her breath, the familiar silhouette blocking the light that was coming through the door opening behind her. She can only let out a short shriek while the pale figure swings its scythe towards her throat. The infinite blackness is almost a relief after the vision of horror, the last sight of her father's walking corpse staring down at her with lifeless red iris.

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