Kissing Death // [ Conqs v. Cipactlii Day 4 ]

Each day brought new pains and a new relief. Two mornings ago he had finally been allowed to quench his thirst with a jug of fresh lake water, but at the price of two knives in his back and a dart to his abdomen. This time he had been rewarded with food - a meager supply of plants, just enough to sustain him for the next few days - but had lost four of his toes in the process, cursing him with gruesome stubs on his feet and the inability to walk without stumbling like a clumsy child. Gypsy had helped dress the wounds and heal them as best as she could with a bit of first aid, and it was enough to make walking a definite possibility. But now I’m going to slow them down. As if a crude point were trying to prove itself, he quickly fell behind Owen and Gypsy as they tried to maneuver out of the labyrinth of thick foliage and strangely-scented flowers. He was using his sword as a pathetic crutch that was too short for his body, forcing him to try and match their pace in an awkward limp that made his wounds burn. By the time they emerged from the suffocating gardens Pyrian was craving a rest, but did not falter as his ally and twin sister changed direction and headed for a large structure that was peeking its golden head above the trees.

Losing the track of death counts and remaining tributes had left Pyrian somewhat perplexed when the district one girl’s face had appeared in the evening sky. He had nearly forgotten that there were careers they needed to worry about, and now he had no idea how many of them were left. He did, however, know that Asunder was still alive somewhere, and that the tension could be eased off of their shoulders as they had dwelled over the absence of a boy whose leg had been crushed into a grotesque mesh of bone and mangled flesh. That meant there were at least five of them left, when Pyrian counted Noah. Six, when he remembered Noah’s red-headed district partner. Seven, when the image of the scorpion girl with a bow between her toes flashed behind his eyelids (could she really breathe fire?). Eight, because he didn’t recall seeing district one appear twice in the night sky, meaning Emerald’s partner was still breathing. Ten, because the naked boy who had spat a dart at his abdomen had unfortunately never appeared above the clouds along with Elodie, the strange girl that had assaulted his body with her hands. Then, of course, there was Ivy, whose presence had slipped his mind up until this point. That makes eleven of us. Only ten more deaths until Gypsy could seize the crown.

With all of the sickeningly familiar faces flashing and twisting in his head his paranoia grew to an ultimate high, and he spent the majority of the journey checking over his shoulders for sneaky tributes and watching Gypsy’s back in case of a sudden ambush. There were no safe houses anywhere in the arena, not even within buildings (the old temple had proven that point days ago), but after trudging for hours through vines that seemed to slither and past burrows where carnivorous moles probably lived, the building ahead of them looked promising. Gypsy was sympathetic enough to assist him in his limping whenever he strayed too far behind, but by the time they arrived at the entrance to the extravagant building he had grown accustomed to the pace and retrieved some of his lost strength. The structure was more massive than he had initially imagined, and nearly blinded him with its reflective shimmers of gold as the sunlight pounded furiously against it. His bad experience in the temple was enough to convince him to retreat, because he knew that anything beautiful in the arena would be an illusion meant to lure unsuspecting tributes into ugly, black claws of death, but this apparently didn’t frighten the three of them. Owen and Gypsy seemed determined to explore the insides of the building, and slipped past the enormous doors as Pyrian tried to battle his own curiosity. We’re on a treasure hunt, he suddenly remembered, the previous clue a distant blur in his mind, and if there really is treasure, it’s gotta be here.

He was right. As the doors creaked shut behind them they were plunged into a wonderland of colors as brilliant as a rainbow and as bright as the stars that twinkled in a black sky. Mountains upon mountains of treasure towered over them as they gawked and stared and smiled at the sight of such wealth. Gypsy was quick to dash forward and claim a few priceless treasures of her own, while Pyrian began to slowly scale one of the thick piles of coins sprinkled with jewels of every color and kind. His eyes found a speckle of red among the endless stacks of blinding gold, and upon closer inspection he discovered it was a ruby encrusted silver ring that slid perfectly onto his finger. There were shapes and figures carved in the sides, one being a flame and the other a dragon with it’s wings extended - both suited him rather well, he thought, and he decided he admired the craftsmanship too much to drop it. He slid down the mound of coins to flaunt his new prize while Gypsy adorned herself in jewelry that was suited only for a true queen. He found himself smiling when the fourth figure suddenly appeared, nearly startling him out of his skin as it barreled toward Gypsy. His heart jumped as if struck by an electric shock and his hand reached for his sword, but he soon recognized the figure as none other than their lost ally, Asunder.

The reunion was brief, if at all comforting, because as soon as Asunder was within ten feet from them two bulky shadows emerged from the corners of the hall - shadows that definitely did not belong to a human. If anything, they were the most terrifyingly monstrous creatures he’d ever laid eyes on. They were giant lizards, it appeared, similar to crocodiles that would be found it wetlands, but there was something extraordinary about them that made him cringe in mixed awe and disgust. Both of them had extra mouths sprouting out of other body parts, each complete with rows of gnashing razor teeth that snapped at them as they slinked their way across the floor. Pyrian didn’t waste another second in staring at the monstrosities; it was obvious that they were dangerous, and they needed to be disposed of before they could take a bite out of his sister. Eyes narrowed, he quickly withdrew his blade and lunged mindlessly at one of the creatures before his brain could remind him of how intimidated he was by the idea of pain, of death, and of being mauled by two crocodiles.

[attacks Cipactli #1 - broadsword]
[dice=200+1000]
[Deep Gash on Right Thigh -- 8.0 damage]

[rand=89904450322501361559682516381144596986570581793794072936261072755]

He falls just as they fell just as everybody fell - his black blood pours upon the shiny stones and casts it all a deep, dark glow, his bloody teeth snapping feebly in the air for a moment before stilling. He was the oldest of your kind, one of the few that remembered Before, and now you are the only one (that you know) who remains. You've done damage but it's not enough, no, not when the one with missing fingers can run without paying for her transgressions, when the one who dealt the killing blow will still escape with nary a wound to his name. The unfairness of it all is startling, you would think if you could... but you're only a monster, made to eat and kill. That's everything you've ever been built for, everything you've known. And so, you do what you're told.

Lunge.

[dice=200+2000]
[attacks Owen, shallow cut on forehead, 4.5]

Blood and bone and tears and you would smile if you could, but it's not over until they retreat into the bright sun again and leave you alone with your shiny treasures that you will guard endlessly until others come find you or you are swallowed whole by the serpent that roams.

[dice=200+2000]
[attacks Asunder, deep gash on left forearm, 8.0]

It's not enough, but it'll have to do.