The Other Huntress (Kotallo/OC)

Chapter Thirteen: Phantom Heart

Kotallo's back baby! Enjoy ladies and gentleman, and thanks for reading! 

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Kotallo awoke with a start, pain searing through his body like a hot brand. Gasping and spluttering into the night, he fumbled blindly in the dark, left arm reaching for his dagger, tucked securely underneath his bedroll, intent on cleaving straight through whoever or whatever was assailing him-

Oh. Oh.

Like an angered Behemoth, reality came crashing down upon his chest, the Marshall barely managing to blink back his tears. They were dead, gone: Sekkoh, Fashav, his comrades. He alone had survived, and for what? He had failed his brothers and sisters-in-arms, each and every one of them slaughtered in the windswept sands of No Man's Land.

I should have died with them.

And yet, he had not.

Kotallo's first awakening at the Memorial Grove after the fact had been an agonizing one, to say the least. Half-delirious with pain and grief, he had blindly lashed out at the Tenakth diligently working to deposit him at the healers' quarters, unable to comprehend anything beyond the torment of his severed arm-and even greater-the anguish for his fallen friends. It had taken Hekarro himself to calm Kotallo down, the Marshall finally allowing himself to be examined and treated by the Grove's skilled healers.

Even now, nearly two weeks after the fact, Kotallo's memories of his injury were still relatively murky, like a turbulent pond that refused to be stilled. However, there were a precise few things he could remember sharp as a blade: a face, and a voice.

"Just hold on. Hold on." The image of the moonhunter's face-Orea-was seared into his mind, her dark hair framing her face like a shield as she leaned over him, azure eyes caught on his own as she dragged him back from the brink. She had been the one to heal him: it was her scarf he now wore wrapped around the stub of his arm, etched into his skin like a silken tattoo.

Kotallo wore her kerchief as a reminder that the moonhunter had saved his life, in spite of the looks of disgust he received from his fellow Tenakth on the daily, the whispered curses that he too should have perished with his comrades. Despite the fact he was better off dead, Kotallo would never forget Orea for what she had done. In her eyes, she had been simply saving a man's life, her actions selfless despite the pair being complete strangers to one another. How then, could he hold the moonhunter's act against her? The solution was simple: he could not. Despite the shame with which he now lived, Kotallo only lived at all thanks to her.

He only wished he could say the same for the others. Sekkoh, whose greatest dream had been to earn the title of High Marshall. Sekkoh, who was now dead and buried in the hallowed catacombs of the Grove. Sekkoh, who had left behind a wife, Marrah, as well as a family. Kotallo had delivered the news of the High Marshall's death to Marrah himself, refusing to glance away from the tears in her eyes, not even for an instant. He almost wished she had struck him down where he stood, rather than embrace him tightly, weeping as she muttered that her husband's death was not his fault, and that she did not blame him. Oh, but how he deserved to be blamed, though he hadn't had the heart to protest against the heartbroken Tenakth before him.

Then there was Fashav, who had come so far-so close to returning home-only to fall just feet away from the Daunt. Now, only his corpse will see the Sundom. Kotallo had never anticipated to one day befriend a Carja soldier, much less a relative of the Mad Sun-King himself. Yet, Fashav had quickly proven his mettle, revealing himself to be an honorable and sincere man, earning the respect of both Kotallo and the other Marshalls. Except Regalla. Hekarro's then-right-hand had never been able to overcome her intense hatred for the Carja, thanks in no small part to the gruesome murder of her two younger brothers. Kotallo could understand her contempt for their eastern neighbors (he himself had lost many friends to the Red Raids), although he could not condone her actions. Not when she had challenged Hekarro for control of the tribe, and certainly not now.