Xena Mythriel Al'vyon
The Clocktower, Town Square
Wroth looked terrible, and for the longest time Xena had no idea what to do. He looked like he's in so much pain. She bit her lip, frantically thinking through all the books she had read about healing, trying to think of something---
anything--- that could help Wroth get over this thing he's been going through. Her usual first step to treatment is to make the patient relax by removing the source of the pain. But how? She doesn't even have any idea where this pain is coming from! There was no way to tell! No way... Her eyes widened, a wisp of a memory brushing softly against her mind. Determination suddenly engulfed her as she pushed her sleeves back and hovered her right hand in front of Wroth. She murmured under her breath, a chant as familiar as everything else, and yet it has eluded her notice for so long. Why didn't she think about it sooner? A faint white light engulfed both her and Wroth, turning into a golden color.
And then she felt it.
It was horrible, terrible, mind numbing pain. She had taken half of Wroth's pain and took it as her own, but she was already caving in, not quite thinking it could be this bad.
Can I take more? she questioned herself, but she knew she couldn't. More of this pain and she'll pass out. But she would not back down from a patient. She stared at the area around his neck, knowing the connection of the pain receptors to the brain by heart. If worse comes to worst, she could just momentarily snap it and put it back together again later. Those thoughts were running on her head, but then she felt her eyesight failing her. Along with Wroth's anguished statement. "C...an't.....se.....e."
There's no time to hesitate! She braced herself, willing her hand to pass through flesh once again like she did this morning. She was visualizing it in her head, carefully picking out which parts of the body to pass through and which are to be severed. She had dived her hand already on his neck when she felt a surge of electricity. She blinked. The pain was significantly reduced. Another surge of electricity, and another, and when she realized the pain was slowly ebbing away, she took her hand off him. She then looked at her hand. It was covered in a strange neon white liquid. A liquid that smelled like blood. It dripped down to the pavement, but curiously, it did not burn through the ground anymore. She stared at it for a couple of seconds, frowning, wondering....
One heartbeat. Two... three, four, five.... six, seven, eight, nine.... ten, eleven, TWELVE---
She covered her ears suddenly, frantically, and took a step back. Images rushed through her mind's eye. Taran, Wroth, a white haired man, towns burning, a tower, her necklace, torn wings, a dead woman, a quiet meadow---
THIRTEEN, FOURTEEN, FIFTEEN, SIXTEEN---
"STOP!" she screamed, her voice a resounding plea across the square. Everything was suddenly so vivid. She could feel everything. hear everything. The pain of everyone's injuries from the past battle, their emotional states, but the sounds of hearts pumping was what get her especially distressed. The hearts of everyone in the square, beating in a crescendo, her anxiety gripping her as it got louder, louder, LOUDER---
TARAN! Her mind screamed. She had no idea why she would think of him in her anguish. Nothing made sense anymore. She was totally gripped in a panic that she knew she had experienced before, but was not quite sure exactly when. She just kept covering her ears, shutting her eyes, trying to push it all out. To no avail.
"Stop, please, stop..." she practically begged, but it wouldn't. For how long can she stand this? How long will this go on? Will this torment ever end?
Suddenly, a strange calmness settled inside her. It was a familiar feeling, a familiar thought process.
That's right. her head murmured.
If they won't stop, then... her thoughts trailed off, staring strangely at the ground as she removed her hands from her ears.
...I'll make them.
It was so easy. So damn easy. She knew. A snap of the neck. A crush of the heart. She could do it. She felt so powerful. It will only take... a few seconds.
And then the pain started. From her blood soaked hands, the burn crept through her body, making her fall on her knees. But in her current state it was almost welcomed. The pain was hell, immense, and she might have screamed, but it was slowly making her numb to her senses, the pain droning out the sound of the heartbeats.
It hurt... It hurt... It hurt... She felt like she was burning inside out. Her senses were fading, and she felt herself hit the ground.
And then... blackness.
***
Errol
The Clocktower, Town Square
Errol hesitated as he stared at his hands, remembering the insane adrenaline he felt as he killed that vile man... remembering the feeling when he found out what had happened to Eltheya. How will Durbul react? He had no idea. Everyday Errol blamed himself for his sister's death, and not knowing it sooner. Blaming himself for being so powerless. Blaming himself for not killing his previous master sooner. He could have done so many things, could have made the ending different. In a perfect world, Eltheya will still be standing next to him, smiling and throwing out her cheeky replies, but this isn't a perfect world. And as much as he wanted for it to be otherwise, he could do nothing about it.
"Eltheya is... dead." he murmured, a flash of pain showing on his face. "It's... a long story. I'm here in the clocktower with my current master. Well, she's not the one I was originally sold to, and she doesn't like me calling her master either... but she's right over there---"
He was going to point into Xena's direction when he heard the scream. His eyes widened. He could recognize that voice anywhere. "Shit!" he cursed, fogetting about Durbul as he ran back towards her, to see her hitting the ground, unconscious. He immediately knelt down on her as and cradled her head, putting it on his lap as he tapped her cheek lightly. "Xena? Xena!" he said frantically, worriedly. She was so pale and clammy.
What the hell happened? She was just fine when he left her a few minutes ago! His eyes turning into crimson red, looking up to Wroth with seething eyes, he demanded. "What have you done?!"