The Eye of The Storm

Chapter 30

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Aella had fallen into a deep slumber, drifting farther away from reality with each passing second. She nuzzled her head between her two hands, oblivious to the destruction around her. Her body felt pleasantly numb. Before, every muscle and bone had wailed like a newborn baby, desperate for motionlessness. She felt warm and fuzzy, as though there was a refreshing fire in the hearth of her chest after a long winter storm. Yes, a storm.

A storm. Her mind buzzed at the word. There was a quality of familiarity about it. She suddenly had an overcoming sensation of fear. She wasn't supposed to fall asleep. Almost instantly, the forest of her body began to wake. Her chest heaved causing an earthquake, and she tasted the saltwater from her lungs force its way up her throat. Her arms remembered that they were arms, not meadows. Her legs remembered that they were legs, not thick tree trunks. Her body remembered that it was alive, not dead.

Whatever drug had been in her system began to wear off.

Pain.

The meticulous drill sergeant didn't miss a single nerve. It crossed them off with neat red check-marks. This one is working. That one is working. This one is working.

Aella blinked. Once, and then twice. The world around her came into view in pieces. She was laying in the mud, her entire body submerged in water. Miraculously, her head was propped up by a plank of rotting wood. The storm had danced with her first, spun her around in circles, before laying her down here. Most of the pain seemed to be shooting down her arm. When she creakily turned her head she understood why. Her wrist was bent backwards at an unnatural angle, causing her to cry out in pain at the sight of it. The visible bare skin had taken on a grey hue, and she was covered in tiny scrapes and cuts, some still freshly bleeding.

Despite these injuries she had survived, but Aella could barely lift her head to see where her other two companions were. Had they perished in the storm? She badly wanted to fall back asleep, to put this horrible living nightmare to an end. Or better yet, to simply give up. Giving up would be easier, but she had already made it this far. Her father and Thoren may have lost their lives because of her. There was no going back.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a harsh and heavy thumping noise.

"Aella!" The voice called. It was Thoren! She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his face bend over her. "Oh thank god, you're alive!"

"What happened?" Aella asked drowsily. She raised her right arm and rubbed her eyes, smudging her face with moistened soil. "Have you seen my father? Is he alright?"

"Shhhh," Thoren replied calmly, placing his finger to his lips. "One thing at a time." He could tell that Aella was terrified, no matter how much she attempted to disguise it. The news of her father would only upset her.

"My hand." Aella said weakly, as though she were suddenly a small child again, presenting a wound to one of her parents to kiss better. She lifted her arm for Thoren to see. When his eyes took in her deformed hand his breathing hitched in his throat.

"Is it broken?" He asked warily. A broken hand would certainly be bad. How could Aella control the elements and access her power if she didn't have two working hands?

Aella swallowed heavily and turned her head to assess her injury. "I think... I think not." She clenched her eyes and tried to recall the contents of the leather bound book which she had read attentively from childhood through adolescence. Pages one through ten were introductory medicine, pages ten through 50 dealt with minor injuries of  the body, pages 50 through 100 were concerned with pregnancy, so on and so forth. Pages ten through 50 would likely concern injuries of the wrist, ankle, and other joints. She sifted through the pages in her mind.