Heir of Fire and Ice

Anger

Elentiya banked hard, flying faster than she ever had before. Tulikipi protested, but obeyed. After the shock had come anger, harsh and unrelenting. At herself, at the assassin who had ended their lives because they thought that Elentiya herself would be a better ruler, at the world. The gods. And hatred. It was her fault. She should have been there, to prevent it, or - or... something. She rode through exhaustion, and was now somewhere beyond, somewhere where nothing but that rage, that need to go on existed.

Tulikipi moaned, plummeting toward the ground. Elentiya couldn't bring herself to care that she could be about to die. It would be a relief, really. She wondered idly what she would look like splattered across the ground. But Tulikipi stabilised at the last moment, catching herself and preventing them from smashing onto the rocks. Her wings caught the wind, slowing the fall, and they crash landed. Her head hit the ground, spots briefly flashed before her eyes. Then, the darkness expanded, blocking out the entire world.

Elentiya's whole body ached. The heat of the sun pounded down on her skin, making it feel as if she was burning up from the inside. She sat up hesitantly, and reached a hand up to her aching forehead, before noticing that it was caked in blood. In fact, there was a pool of blood, now dried but not evaporated, where her head had been. She had lost a lot of blood. Not a fatal amount - if she had, then she would not have woken up. But enough that it sapped her energy enough for the cut on her head to not have healed automatically. Focusing on it, she healed it, more from instinct than anything else. Where was Tulikipi? 

Yesterday's events washed over her like a bad dream, unreal, and yet terrifyingly believable. She pushed any thoughts of that away. Later. She could mourn later. If it had been just herself, she would have just let her die, but she couldn't condemn Tulikipi to the same fate. Pushing herself to her feet, she ignored the onslaught of dizziness, and tried to think logically. If she were a ruk in unfamiliar surroundings, where would she go? Surely, even after all that Elentiya had put her through, she hadn't been abandoned. She screamed, a scream of desperation and anger and fear.  Not for herself. Never for herself.

"Tulikipi!" Elentiya called softly. She did not want to shout. No - not when she didn't know what lived here. Not when she was unarmed. Where was that ruk? Elentiya had somehow injured her leg in the fall, and having expended most of her energy and all of her healing on her forehead without thinking, without any sort of supplies, she could do nothing about it. For all her training, those years spent trying to be strong, not defenceless, she was still that same little girl who had barely survived Maeve. Who could not save herself. She decided, as she limped along, that she hated that girl with a vehemence. No one would save her now.

"My, my. A little fae princess, lost in the desert all alone. Did you get lost little princess?" Elentiya turned to find one of the giant spiders, the very same ones that had made that spidersilk dress that she had worn with such pride, right behind her. She opened her mouth to scream.