It was happening again.
Izira muttered under her breath as she tried to come to terms with where she was. Not in her bed, not inside. She felt the rough ground at her back, a cold breeze over bare skin. Dawning sunlight burned through her eyelids, causing a greater ache to awaken in her head. She pushed herself up, coughing into a hand. Eyes cracked open, first light of day, her hand was covered in ashes. Alertness bolted through her body, wide eyes looked around to take in her surroundings.
Where was she?
Slowly standing, her body resisting the effort it took. She turned in a full circle, devastation waited at every turn. In a radius of nearly thirty feet from her nothing remained but ash. Beyond that stood pristine forest, untouched by whatever event had occurred. Turning and turning again, Izira could not make sense of it. Only knew that she must have been the cause.
How long had she been out?
Ash and dirt covered her body along with cuts and streaks of dried blood. Was it her blood? There was no one else in sight. She was unsure on whether or not to consider that fact a good omen or not. Foot moving for balance, something snapped beneath her foot. Eyes captured by the sound, a dirty foot moved carefully to the side, white bone stared back up from the ground.
What had she done?
Small bone. Not bird, mammal. Small mammal. Falling to her knees again, shaking hands lifted the bits of broken bone trying to piece them back together. Trying to piece herself back together, to become whole, to become fine, to undo whatever it is she has done. No luck, too late. She just hoped it wasn?t one of hers, releasing the bones to fall back to the earth.
What else?
Izira looked around once more, taking in the sky and gauging which direction would lead her home. A chill had slipped into her skin. There was no fire to for warmth, it lurked but would not come when called. Burned out, she was too tired to even express the bitter smirk. It died before it reached her lips. Perhaps her father?s people were right, it would be better for the half-breed to be dead. Safer. Izira shook her head. First, she had to make sure everyone at the inn was fine.
Izira muttered under her breath as she tried to come to terms with where she was. Not in her bed, not inside. She felt the rough ground at her back, a cold breeze over bare skin. Dawning sunlight burned through her eyelids, causing a greater ache to awaken in her head. She pushed herself up, coughing into a hand. Eyes cracked open, first light of day, her hand was covered in ashes. Alertness bolted through her body, wide eyes looked around to take in her surroundings.
Where was she?
Slowly standing, her body resisting the effort it took. She turned in a full circle, devastation waited at every turn. In a radius of nearly thirty feet from her nothing remained but ash. Beyond that stood pristine forest, untouched by whatever event had occurred. Turning and turning again, Izira could not make sense of it. Only knew that she must have been the cause.
How long had she been out?
Ash and dirt covered her body along with cuts and streaks of dried blood. Was it her blood? There was no one else in sight. She was unsure on whether or not to consider that fact a good omen or not. Foot moving for balance, something snapped beneath her foot. Eyes captured by the sound, a dirty foot moved carefully to the side, white bone stared back up from the ground.
What had she done?
Small bone. Not bird, mammal. Small mammal. Falling to her knees again, shaking hands lifted the bits of broken bone trying to piece them back together. Trying to piece herself back together, to become whole, to become fine, to undo whatever it is she has done. No luck, too late. She just hoped it wasn?t one of hers, releasing the bones to fall back to the earth.
What else?
Izira looked around once more, taking in the sky and gauging which direction would lead her home. A chill had slipped into her skin. There was no fire to for warmth, it lurked but would not come when called. Burned out, she was too tired to even express the bitter smirk. It died before it reached her lips. Perhaps her father?s people were right, it would be better for the half-breed to be dead. Safer. Izira shook her head. First, she had to make sure everyone at the inn was fine.