Chapter 380: Book 6-13.3: Landfall

The Fleetfoot barbarian collapsed on top of Gwendith and started to twitch. His hands curled convulsively and his fingernails, unexpectedly sharp, scratched her hard enough to draw blood.

Hissing in pain, and horrified that the man was still barely alive, she rammed the dagger harder into his eye and pushed. The man’s weight was what finally did him in. At that point, he grew limp and turned into a deadweight. His blood was hot on her face, and she groaned in pain and disgust.

With numbed fingers, she shoved him off her but found that her trembling limbs barely gave her enough strength to push. Instead, she spread her Animus into the snow around her and turned them into ice pillars that supported his weight even as she shimmied sideways to get out from under him.

Hissing at the scratches and her blood, Gwendith pulled up her underwear and pants, trying her best to make do with the remnants of the cord that served as her belt. The barbarian probably had something on him to replace the belt, but she didn’t want to touch his filth. She also knew that she would need to use Recovery if only to prevent the wounds from festering. They were in a rather delicate region and his nails were caked with filth.

Her mind was whirling as the enormity of what she’d done dawned on her. She defended herself and killed a barbarian warrior, which meant that whatever protection that bastard son had over her was moot. She needed to make herself scarce. The upper plateau and tundra were wide and she thought she could probably hide in the Shallows of the Tidelands if she had to.

Her initial Facet had allowed her to make things freeze at her touch, wholly unusable against the Iron Skin. Her second Facet allowed her to utterly control her body temperature and prevented her from dying to the elements. But it was what she could do without the support of her Facets and Heritage that ultimately gave her the edge. And perhaps it would be enough to survive this ordeal.

She’d have to abandon the rest of the captives but she had no choice. Her thoughts roamed back to what had happened. If she’d let the man have his way, it would have only impacted her dignity. At least, that’s what she thought. Other dark futures awaited her had she just given in, but that was also the easy path. Now…

She would be killed, probably, once they found out. Maybe tortured first. Who knows.

Her falling spirit gathered itself. She should have been prepared to die once she had been captured. That she lived for so long without losing herself was more a matter of Thaer’s indulgence than her stubbornness. She knew some of the prettier women had been broken and forced to convert. It could have been done to her, and she didn’t know why he didn’t. Perhaps he liked his trophies willful and feisty.

His golden-haired wife certainly had fire, as did his numerous consorts, even if they were banked most of the time. Those who had been broken to the barbarians’ will looked like they’d already died inside and were only waiting for their bodies to stop moving.

Focus, Gwen, focus. She slapped her cheeks and her hands came away slick with blood. Blanching, she scrubbed her hands and face into the snow, trying to get as much of the muck off her. Some of the blood had frozen on her hair, but that actually made things easier. She dusted snow over herself and soaked it in her Animus before manipulating them away. Flecks of blood came with the snow.

She hurriedly checked the man’s things. He had a belt pouch with a flint and steel, some jerky, and an iron knife. He also carried a huge pickaxe that was too heavy and unwieldy for her to use, so she left it behind. She had several blades of blue-veined grass and hopefully, that should help her survive for several days. She could always hunt for more.

She’d already considered how she could survive in the wilds. She could dig into the snow and form a rudimentary shelter, making sure that it didn’t stick out too much off the ground. She could use her second Facet to keep warm. As long as she kept out of sight, she could slowly make her way down into the valleys and find a way to reach the Imperial camp. Or she could hide in the Shallows as she initially thought, but she worried that the Chaos would erode and change her. She wasn’t strong enough to live there for long.

Mind set, she once again spread her Animus into the snow and used it to sink the man’s body down into the drift. It was just deep enough that he shouldn’t be found easily, though those with enhanced noses would probably smell the blood. There wasn’t much she could do about that. Thankfully, he had followed her all the way out here instead of closer to the entry tunnels. There were usually dozens of harvesters out at a time, but most of them limited their area close to the tunnels. She should have a few hours lead.

Bidding goodbye to the captives in her mind, she gritted her teeth and slowly made her way closer to the Veil. She decided to enter the Shallows for a bit, to scatter her trail.

Several days of cautious travel later, Gwendith rested inside a hard-packed snow shelter. She had found a couple of clumps of blue-veined grass, and along with the meat jerky she scavenged, she wasn’t starving. She wasn’t really sated, either, and the continued effort of forcing the cold away from her core drained her Animus reserve. She had been foolish in her expectations.

Her second Facet still took a bit of Animus to operate and so did her ice manipulation technique. Her reserves weren’t that much to begin with, just eighty-seven lumens last time she checked. She hadn’t needed to take Zoi Elixirs to bring her cap up to the minimum to advance to Apprentice, but it was another matter to reach Sollus for Apprentice.

And of course, her abduction meant that she didn’t have any Zoi Elixirs to increase her cap. Nonetheless, her Animus reserves had increased by several lumens over the past year. Not enough to advance, but better than nothing. Straining herself now seemed to do wonders for her though, and she felt as if she could reach Sollus over the next Season. Likely too late for it to matter but she’d take what good news she could find.

Sleeping in the snow, focused on keeping her body heat stable and made it much easier for her to understand cold and ice. Warmth and cold were two sides of the same coin, she knew. When she held in her heat, deep within her core, her limbs grew cold enough that the snow didn’t melt on her skin. It probably wasn’t healthy for her body, but she kept Recovery running and her Animus flowing. That seemed to be enough so that she didn’t lose any fingers to frostbite.

She could have started a fire, of course, but that would have been a beacon to her pursuers.

She saw them a couple of times. When she went over a hill, and when she climbed a tree to check the view. About a dozen barbarians. Most seemed to be of the Fleetfoot tribe, which meant they travelled across the tundra quickly. Whether they could track her or not was really a moot point. There was only one way for her to go if she didn’t try to go down the mountainside.

She avoided their pursuit by moving away from the direct path to the Tidelands and holed up in her shelter. It was barely enough space to crawl through and had limited lighting. The wounds she got from the rotter, scratches on her inner thigh and along her pubis, as well as bruises on her neck, were well on their way to healing. The scratches got a bit inflamed early on, but constant use of Recovery and temperature adjustment helped her get through it.

The Tidelands were so close! If she could only sneak in! But no, the barbarian scouts were already too near, and they could run faster than she could. Chaos, the whole lot of them were tall, and their long legs and strange-looking footwear allowed them to cross the snowy tundra easily. She could only hope they didn’t find her.

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Several more days passed as she played hide and seek. A couple of barbarians were left at the centre of the Tidelands’ entrance while the rest of them fanned out to search. There were several bunches of pine trees that she could hide in, but the blue-veined grasses didn’t grow there. The barbarians harvested all they could find and Gwendith found her rations running low.

She was on her fourth shelter, near the top of a hill that gave her a good view of the Veil when the Tidelands’ entrance shifted colours. From her studies, she knew that it was a reflection of what tried to enter through it. The black, greys, and muted whites were not a very comforting sight.

Evidently, the barbarians were worried, too, and they gathered near the entrance, though far enough away that they wouldn’t get caught if any eruption of Chaos happened. The hues shifted and condensed, creating ripples that appeared high up in the sky and converged towards the ground.

Gwendith focused on her eyes, forcing herself to use Enhanced Sight. The ripples continued, the intervals between each coming closer and closer until the entire Veil was covered in black and grey waves. Then…

Nothing.

The ripples stopped and nothing passed through. Gwendith rubbed at her eyes and wondered at the strange event, but nothing came to mind.

She decided to just continue with her vigil when the Veil’s hues started to gather again. This time, the lights were gold, light blue, and a bit of red. Mostly gold though.

Bright shining gold the colour of the sun’s rays.

Gwendith’s heart pounded furiously in her chest and she found herself, inexplicably, drawn to that light. She crawled out of her shelter and had barely managed to make it down the hillside when the ripples focused and whoever was going through finally entered.

A figure encased in golden light, Radiantly beautiful and instantly recognizable. Even if she had barely thought of her the past couple of years, Gwendith felt her lips dry and her heart quiver. Was she dreaming? More figures stepped through, but she barely paid them any heed. Instead, her eyes wandered down towards the barbarians who were similarly enthralled.

But it couldn’t last, Gwendith knew. Lust would cloud their reason if they even had any. Yuriko Mishala Davar sauntered out of the Tidelands. Her movements were even more graceful than before. Gwendith could intuit that she had advanced past her already, to Journeyman or perhaps to Knight. More likely the latter since the last she saw of her, she had been swept into a Chaos rift. Since she was here now, that meant she survived in the Chaos Sea naked. The how didn’t really matter to her right now, just the hope that Yuriko was strong enough to hold her own.

“Who are the others?” she murmured as she swept her gaze behind Yuriko. Three men and three women, with the last woman looking decidedly odd.

The barbarians stalked down towards Yuriko and the others, confidence clear in their gait. They outnumbered Yuriko’s group and that gave them the gumption to try and take her.

Gwendith growled and started to create her ice daggers. She would rot in the Abyss if she’d just let them have their way!

The barbarians unsheathed their weapons and postured. The people behind Yuriko did the same, but the golden-haired girl didn’t do anything other than cock her head. She was the tallest woman in the group but two of the men were bigger than her.

Her clothes fit her body well, too well, Gwendith grumbled. They followed every curve of her body. She was still slender, but her growth had made her a bit more…feminine? Certainly not voluptuous. Hrmmm, Gwendith wasn’t sure which she preferred.

She started to lope down the hill, rushing as quickly as she could. She was only a couple of hundred paces away, merely a couple of minutes running if she had been in her ideal state. Before she could move halfway down the slope though, the barbarians charged, weapons raised high.

They only got a couple of steps before all of their heads exploded.

Gwendith staggered to a stop, her jaw dropping. She didn’t even see what happened!

But then, Yuriko’s face turned towards her, and she saw her break into a wide smile.

“Gwendith.”

Heart melting in wonder and adoration, she ran towards Yuriko and collapsed at her feet. The pain, sadness, and rage of the past years burst out of her in a wailing sob. Strong hands enfolded her and the warmth radiating from her friend burned through the coldness of her body and Anima.

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