before
A shockwave rush of air blew leaves and dust outward in a circular ring, followed by a round, flickering sphere of energy. Streamers of bright material flashed out of the core and dissapated as the sphere grew from a tiny point of bluish-white light into a large globe that filled the small clearing. With a rush of wind accompanied by the acrid tang of electricity, the sphere expanded in a miniature nova, leaving two figures standing in the wake of its dissapation.
The two figures stood facing each other, eyes tightly closed. They opened their eyes and dropped their joined hands, breathing deep breaths of the warm afternoon air. One male, one female, the figures were human in appearance. They wore similar garb, dressed in long, open-sided robes belted at the waist. Beneath their robes each wore a finely-wrought shirt of chain mail on top of a simple shirt and trousers. Tall boots protected their feet and lower legs, and gloves covered their hands and forearms. At their hips hung swords in plain, utilitarian scabbards, and on each belt was a sheathed dagger and several small pouches.
The man wore black robes and clothing, trimmed at neck and hem with red. His dark hair was pulled back in a long braid and dark eyes glimmered beneath heavy black brows. His sword was long and slightly curved, with a carved ivory grip. Around his upper arm a bandage was slowly turning bright red.
The woman wore white, trimmed with green. Her hair was cropped to just above her shoulders and caught the sun in hues of honey brown and golden red. The green of her eyes echoed the trim of her robes and the lush foliage of the forest surrounding the pair. Her sword was straight and slender, with a deceptively delicate silver hilt. Dark stains marred the snowy whiteness of her clothing, and blood crusted the side of her face from a shallow cut on her brow.
The man collapsed heavily into the soft grass of the clearing, stretching his legs out and pillowing his head on his unwounded arm. The woman sank to the ground beside him, removing a cloth and a small vial of water from one of the pouches at her belt.
"You're bleeding again," she said as she moistened the clean cloth and dabbed at the blood on her face.
"It'll stop," the man replied.
They were silent for some time, the man reclining with his eyes closed and the woman slowly removing the worst of the dirt and blood from her face and hands. Steadily the shadows around them lengthened as the sun went down. Finally, the woman capped the vial and replaced it and the cloth back into her belt pouch.
"I need some food and a bath," she announced.
The man merely grunted and made no move.
The woman stood and regarded the man thoughtfully. Appearing to reach some inner decision, she booted the man in the ribs and ran, giggling, into the forest. With an oath, the man doubled over then stiffly got to his feet, jogging after the sound of her laughter. As the moon rose over the now abandoned clearing, his outline in the grass slowly faded, leaving only the echo of the woman's laughter ringing softly in the distance to mark their passing.
The two figures stood facing each other, eyes tightly closed. They opened their eyes and dropped their joined hands, breathing deep breaths of the warm afternoon air. One male, one female, the figures were human in appearance. They wore similar garb, dressed in long, open-sided robes belted at the waist. Beneath their robes each wore a finely-wrought shirt of chain mail on top of a simple shirt and trousers. Tall boots protected their feet and lower legs, and gloves covered their hands and forearms. At their hips hung swords in plain, utilitarian scabbards, and on each belt was a sheathed dagger and several small pouches.
The man wore black robes and clothing, trimmed at neck and hem with red. His dark hair was pulled back in a long braid and dark eyes glimmered beneath heavy black brows. His sword was long and slightly curved, with a carved ivory grip. Around his upper arm a bandage was slowly turning bright red.
The woman wore white, trimmed with green. Her hair was cropped to just above her shoulders and caught the sun in hues of honey brown and golden red. The green of her eyes echoed the trim of her robes and the lush foliage of the forest surrounding the pair. Her sword was straight and slender, with a deceptively delicate silver hilt. Dark stains marred the snowy whiteness of her clothing, and blood crusted the side of her face from a shallow cut on her brow.
The man collapsed heavily into the soft grass of the clearing, stretching his legs out and pillowing his head on his unwounded arm. The woman sank to the ground beside him, removing a cloth and a small vial of water from one of the pouches at her belt.
"You're bleeding again," she said as she moistened the clean cloth and dabbed at the blood on her face.
"It'll stop," the man replied.
They were silent for some time, the man reclining with his eyes closed and the woman slowly removing the worst of the dirt and blood from her face and hands. Steadily the shadows around them lengthened as the sun went down. Finally, the woman capped the vial and replaced it and the cloth back into her belt pouch.
"I need some food and a bath," she announced.
The man merely grunted and made no move.
The woman stood and regarded the man thoughtfully. Appearing to reach some inner decision, she booted the man in the ribs and ran, giggling, into the forest. With an oath, the man doubled over then stiffly got to his feet, jogging after the sound of her laughter. As the moon rose over the now abandoned clearing, his outline in the grass slowly faded, leaving only the echo of the woman's laughter ringing softly in the distance to mark their passing.
after
A shockwave rush of air blew leaves and dust outward in a circular ring, followed by a round, flickering sphere of energy. Streamers of bright material flashed out of the core as the sphere grew from a tiny point of bluish-white light into a large globe that filled the small clearing. With a rush of wind accompanied by the acrid tang of electricity, the sphere expanded in a miniature nova, leaving two figures standing in the wake of its dissipation.
Facing with gloved hands joined, their eyes tightly closed, the pair remained motionless for a moment. Then they slowly opened their eyes, breathing deeply of the warm afternoon air and taking in their surroundings. A soft breeze stirred the edges of the long surcoats each wore over light chainmail, the man’s black trimmed with red and the woman’s white trimmed with green. Beneath the mail, both had bracers and leg armor of boiled leather protecting their arms and legs and both were splattered head-to-toe with dried mud and darker stains of blood. The man’s hauberk bore a rent in one sleeve, and fresh blood trickled across the torn and twisted links.
Seeing no immediate danger, the man unbelted the sword at his waist and collapsed heavily into the soft grass of the clearing with a deep, relieved sigh. Stretching his legs out, he pillowed his head on his unwounded arm, flipping his long braid of dark hair out of the way. He grinned up at the woman, his dark eyes glimmering beneath heavy black brows. The woman finally sank to the ground beside him, releasing the strap that held a heavy mace at her side. She removed a cloth and a small vial of water from a pouch at her belt.
"You're bleeding again," she said as she moistened the clean cloth and dabbed at the blood and dirt on her face. She pushed a strand of light brown hair behind one ear, the rest falling to just above her shoulders in slight waves. Green eyes regarded the man lying in the grass, flickering to the blood seeping from the wound just below his left shoulder.
"It'll stop," the man replied.
They were silent for some time, the man reclining with his eyes closed and the woman slowly removing the worst of the dirt and blood from her face and hands. She offered the cloth to the man, who accepted and pressed it against his wound, eliciting an exasperated sigh from the woman. Steadily the shadows around them lengthened as the sun went down, but they did not move.
“I think we’ve rested long enough,” the woman announced. Getting no response from her companion, she continued. "I need some food and a bath.” The man merely grunted and made no move.
The woman stood and regarded the man thoughtfully. Appearing to reach some inner decision, she booted the man in the ribs and ran into the forest.
“Ow! Dammit!” The man doubled over then stiffly got to his feet. “What the hell?” The woman peeked out from behind a tree, her white surcoat a pale smudge in the twilight gloom.
“I told you to move!” she called out then disappeared into the trees, leaving only an echo of laughter for the man to follow. He swore and jogged after the sound, muttering threats under his breath. As the moon rose over the now abandoned clearing, their outlines in the mashed-down grass slowly faded, leaving only the echo of the woman's laughter ringing softly in the distance to mark their passing.
Facing with gloved hands joined, their eyes tightly closed, the pair remained motionless for a moment. Then they slowly opened their eyes, breathing deeply of the warm afternoon air and taking in their surroundings. A soft breeze stirred the edges of the long surcoats each wore over light chainmail, the man’s black trimmed with red and the woman’s white trimmed with green. Beneath the mail, both had bracers and leg armor of boiled leather protecting their arms and legs and both were splattered head-to-toe with dried mud and darker stains of blood. The man’s hauberk bore a rent in one sleeve, and fresh blood trickled across the torn and twisted links.
Seeing no immediate danger, the man unbelted the sword at his waist and collapsed heavily into the soft grass of the clearing with a deep, relieved sigh. Stretching his legs out, he pillowed his head on his unwounded arm, flipping his long braid of dark hair out of the way. He grinned up at the woman, his dark eyes glimmering beneath heavy black brows. The woman finally sank to the ground beside him, releasing the strap that held a heavy mace at her side. She removed a cloth and a small vial of water from a pouch at her belt.
"You're bleeding again," she said as she moistened the clean cloth and dabbed at the blood and dirt on her face. She pushed a strand of light brown hair behind one ear, the rest falling to just above her shoulders in slight waves. Green eyes regarded the man lying in the grass, flickering to the blood seeping from the wound just below his left shoulder.
"It'll stop," the man replied.
They were silent for some time, the man reclining with his eyes closed and the woman slowly removing the worst of the dirt and blood from her face and hands. She offered the cloth to the man, who accepted and pressed it against his wound, eliciting an exasperated sigh from the woman. Steadily the shadows around them lengthened as the sun went down, but they did not move.
“I think we’ve rested long enough,” the woman announced. Getting no response from her companion, she continued. "I need some food and a bath.” The man merely grunted and made no move.
The woman stood and regarded the man thoughtfully. Appearing to reach some inner decision, she booted the man in the ribs and ran into the forest.
“Ow! Dammit!” The man doubled over then stiffly got to his feet. “What the hell?” The woman peeked out from behind a tree, her white surcoat a pale smudge in the twilight gloom.
“I told you to move!” she called out then disappeared into the trees, leaving only an echo of laughter for the man to follow. He swore and jogged after the sound, muttering threats under his breath. As the moon rose over the now abandoned clearing, their outlines in the mashed-down grass slowly faded, leaving only the echo of the woman's laughter ringing softly in the distance to mark their passing.
