There wasn't any reason to distrust the dark
clothed woman. Her face seemed kind enough. It just looked as if she
were mourning, what with all that black she was wearing. Even Mirrah's
own trained instincts to remain vigilant and stand her own ground was
wavering the longer she looked at that bowl of green stuff. It wasn't
even a pleasant color and yet Mirrah still wanted to wash it down her
throat.
Mirrah moved towards the open seat the woman pulled out for her, slowly at first,then eased herself into the seat once she wrapped both hands around the bowl. The bowl felt cool and a fresh damp smell was wafting up to her nostrils. Looking down at the bowl, she noticed her own hands were trembling.
"It's a simple mixture of herbs. It may not suit your tastes but it will restore some of your energy."
Mirrah looked back up to see the woman had gone back to crushing herbs. She hesitated a bit before holding the liquid to her lips and taking a sip. No sooner had the water slipped through her lips and trickled down her throat did she feel the immediate instinct to vomit, if she had any thing in her stomach to vomit. Instead the water went straight up her nose, the rest spat violently back into the bowl.
"Ah, gag reflex." The woman turned to Mirrah with a chuckle. "Seems you're alright after all."
Mirrah pushed the bowl back onto the table, pausing briefly to gag. "It's ah...bitter."
"Just bitter?"
She managed a wry grin, before feeling water drip from her nose. Her hands flew up to her face. "Oh geez-- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." The woman offered a handkerchief which Mirrah took without hesitation.
They remained in an awkward silence for a short moment with Mirrah wiping her nose and the woman just sitting there, watching. Mirrah took a moment to realize that her voice was no longer raspy and even though it felt as if her throat were caked with green powder, it didn't hurt nearly as much to talk as it did earlier. Mirrah lifted her eyes as her hands lowered back into her lap, fingering the handkerchief.
"Um. Did you...uh..."
The woman cocked her head and then leaned back in her chair. "That young man was the one who saved you."
Mirrah raised her head. "What?"
"I found you both on shore a day ago and brought you to my house." She cast a slight glance back to the doorway Mirrah passed through where the pirate lay sleeping. "I assume he swam you to shore from wherever you were. He was conscious when I found him, though barely, and promptly passed out once I drew near."
Mirrah sunk slightly in her chair, much more disappointed than she should've been. To think that she owed him her life now! It just didn't seem right! That man was the one who kidnapped her in the first place. Technically he was the reason she was dragged into this whole mess anyway. So did she really owe him her life? Even with all the rationalizing, she just couldn't bring herself to ignore the favor she now owed him!
Even if he was a pirate!
Even if he did kidnap her!
"I won't ask you to explain yourself." The woman had gone back to grinding her herbs, keeping her eyes on the stone slate before her. "But I cannot ask you to stay any more than three nights."
"Three nights?"
"I'm afraid I'm quite unaccustomed to company and the provisions I have now will not sustain three people for any longer. Once you and your friend have recovered, I would be more than happy to guide you back down the mountain and point you to the main roads."
Mirrah straightened herself in her seat, planting her hands firmly on the table, a motion that was enough to catch the woman's attention. "No no! You've already done plenty for us--me!" Mirrah paused for a second, dropping her voice down a notch in case she woke the sleeping pirate. "I should be on my way anyway."
The woman gave her a stern frown. "Don't be ridiculous. Your friend hasn't woken yet either--"
"Believe me. He's not my friend." Mirrah figured the best favor she could give the pirate was to keep herself from strangling the man in his sleep. "It would be much better if we parted ways sooner rather than later."
"You aren't well enough to descend the mountains right now. As you've already proved, you can hardly stand upright without clutching onto the wall."
"I feel fine!" Mirrah pushed herself up to prove that statement and, though she wouldn't admit it, it took her a little more than mindless effort to keep from swaying. The only thing on her mind was to escape before the pirate woke up and Mirrah's conscience kicked back in. She waved her hand, a motion that only provoked the frown on the woman's face. "Maybe a bit stiff from sleeping all day but it's nothing a little exercise can't cure."
Mirrah was just about to turn when she felt a cold hand rest upon her shoulder. No, not even a hand, just a cold aura that blanketed her shoulder. When she turned, she saw that black shadow of a hand clasped around her shoulder, the cold going deep into her bones. The creature had followed her from its dark corner in the other room, not quite standing in the sunlight, but far enough away from the deep shadows that Mirrah could finally see the figure, which actually wasn't so different than when it was still in the shadows. It was still a dark mass of writhing tendrils, a shadow given form. Now it was standing behind Mirrah. Blocking her way. Mirrah had to suppress her desire to fight back. She felt for some reason she probably wouldnt' be able to hit that thing.
"Please, I must insist."
Mirrah turned back to the woman, not quite as enthusiastic as she was before. The woman was standing now, her hands pulled into her sleeves. She too, almost looked like a shadow, her face and neck floating in a sea of blackness. They almost looked related, that shadow and the woman.
"It's bad karma, having human flesh rotting on the mountain side. It would be painful for both myself and the mountain. If you are truly grateful for my hospitality then you would rest until you are recovered."
Strangely, even though Mirrah recognized the threat, she didn't feel as if the woman were threatening her. It was more like...a scolding mother. Still it was disturbing hearing her speak of Mirrah as a decaying corpse. And maybe just as disturbing seeing her unfazed by the shadow that was holding Mirrah in check. Reluctantly, Mirrah eased herself back into her chair, placing her hands placidly back into her lap. The shadow removed its hand from her shoulder though still remained where it was standing.
The woman's frown softened the moment Mirrah complied and she too sat back into her seat. "I understand your need to leave as soon as you can, but seeing as night is beginning to fall, I must ask you to at least stay 'til morning."
Mirrah didn't meet the woman's eyes, instead keeping them glued to the floor like a child. "Yes, ma'am."
The woman gave a slight smile and then turned back to her herbs, no doubt planning to whip up another gag inducing concotion for the pirate back there. Mirrah sighed heavily, not aloud lest she wanted to be chided by the woman again, at the thought of having to thank the man for saving her life. Anything that happened on that boat was a seasick blur. She couldn't even remember the name she had given herself aboard that ship much less the act of the pirate trying to save her. For all she knew, he may've been trying to use her as a float. Regardless, she was still here because he jumped in after her (or fell in). How was she supposed to get into contact with Wilhelm now though? A day or two had passed, according to what the woman said. Did he assume she was dead? Would Mirrah have to find another job?
Mirrah gave her spiraling-into-despair thoughts a rest once she noticed the rhythmic sounds of grinding herbs had come to a halt. She lifted her head to see that the woman had turned her gaze to the open window. Her expression shifted from a pleasant wonder to a startling irritation. She swiftly rose from her seat and walked to the window, her black robes blocking out any hint to what she was looking at. Mirrah could still hear, however, and the woman was muttering underneath her breath.
"That boy..."
Mirrah moved towards the open seat the woman pulled out for her, slowly at first,then eased herself into the seat once she wrapped both hands around the bowl. The bowl felt cool and a fresh damp smell was wafting up to her nostrils. Looking down at the bowl, she noticed her own hands were trembling.
"It's a simple mixture of herbs. It may not suit your tastes but it will restore some of your energy."
Mirrah looked back up to see the woman had gone back to crushing herbs. She hesitated a bit before holding the liquid to her lips and taking a sip. No sooner had the water slipped through her lips and trickled down her throat did she feel the immediate instinct to vomit, if she had any thing in her stomach to vomit. Instead the water went straight up her nose, the rest spat violently back into the bowl.
"Ah, gag reflex." The woman turned to Mirrah with a chuckle. "Seems you're alright after all."
Mirrah pushed the bowl back onto the table, pausing briefly to gag. "It's ah...bitter."
"Just bitter?"
She managed a wry grin, before feeling water drip from her nose. Her hands flew up to her face. "Oh geez-- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." The woman offered a handkerchief which Mirrah took without hesitation.
They remained in an awkward silence for a short moment with Mirrah wiping her nose and the woman just sitting there, watching. Mirrah took a moment to realize that her voice was no longer raspy and even though it felt as if her throat were caked with green powder, it didn't hurt nearly as much to talk as it did earlier. Mirrah lifted her eyes as her hands lowered back into her lap, fingering the handkerchief.
"Um. Did you...uh..."
The woman cocked her head and then leaned back in her chair. "That young man was the one who saved you."
Mirrah raised her head. "What?"
"I found you both on shore a day ago and brought you to my house." She cast a slight glance back to the doorway Mirrah passed through where the pirate lay sleeping. "I assume he swam you to shore from wherever you were. He was conscious when I found him, though barely, and promptly passed out once I drew near."
Mirrah sunk slightly in her chair, much more disappointed than she should've been. To think that she owed him her life now! It just didn't seem right! That man was the one who kidnapped her in the first place. Technically he was the reason she was dragged into this whole mess anyway. So did she really owe him her life? Even with all the rationalizing, she just couldn't bring herself to ignore the favor she now owed him!
Even if he was a pirate!
Even if he did kidnap her!
"I won't ask you to explain yourself." The woman had gone back to grinding her herbs, keeping her eyes on the stone slate before her. "But I cannot ask you to stay any more than three nights."
"Three nights?"
"I'm afraid I'm quite unaccustomed to company and the provisions I have now will not sustain three people for any longer. Once you and your friend have recovered, I would be more than happy to guide you back down the mountain and point you to the main roads."
Mirrah straightened herself in her seat, planting her hands firmly on the table, a motion that was enough to catch the woman's attention. "No no! You've already done plenty for us--me!" Mirrah paused for a second, dropping her voice down a notch in case she woke the sleeping pirate. "I should be on my way anyway."
The woman gave her a stern frown. "Don't be ridiculous. Your friend hasn't woken yet either--"
"Believe me. He's not my friend." Mirrah figured the best favor she could give the pirate was to keep herself from strangling the man in his sleep. "It would be much better if we parted ways sooner rather than later."
"You aren't well enough to descend the mountains right now. As you've already proved, you can hardly stand upright without clutching onto the wall."
"I feel fine!" Mirrah pushed herself up to prove that statement and, though she wouldn't admit it, it took her a little more than mindless effort to keep from swaying. The only thing on her mind was to escape before the pirate woke up and Mirrah's conscience kicked back in. She waved her hand, a motion that only provoked the frown on the woman's face. "Maybe a bit stiff from sleeping all day but it's nothing a little exercise can't cure."
Mirrah was just about to turn when she felt a cold hand rest upon her shoulder. No, not even a hand, just a cold aura that blanketed her shoulder. When she turned, she saw that black shadow of a hand clasped around her shoulder, the cold going deep into her bones. The creature had followed her from its dark corner in the other room, not quite standing in the sunlight, but far enough away from the deep shadows that Mirrah could finally see the figure, which actually wasn't so different than when it was still in the shadows. It was still a dark mass of writhing tendrils, a shadow given form. Now it was standing behind Mirrah. Blocking her way. Mirrah had to suppress her desire to fight back. She felt for some reason she probably wouldnt' be able to hit that thing.
"Please, I must insist."
Mirrah turned back to the woman, not quite as enthusiastic as she was before. The woman was standing now, her hands pulled into her sleeves. She too, almost looked like a shadow, her face and neck floating in a sea of blackness. They almost looked related, that shadow and the woman.
"It's bad karma, having human flesh rotting on the mountain side. It would be painful for both myself and the mountain. If you are truly grateful for my hospitality then you would rest until you are recovered."
Strangely, even though Mirrah recognized the threat, she didn't feel as if the woman were threatening her. It was more like...a scolding mother. Still it was disturbing hearing her speak of Mirrah as a decaying corpse. And maybe just as disturbing seeing her unfazed by the shadow that was holding Mirrah in check. Reluctantly, Mirrah eased herself back into her chair, placing her hands placidly back into her lap. The shadow removed its hand from her shoulder though still remained where it was standing.
The woman's frown softened the moment Mirrah complied and she too sat back into her seat. "I understand your need to leave as soon as you can, but seeing as night is beginning to fall, I must ask you to at least stay 'til morning."
Mirrah didn't meet the woman's eyes, instead keeping them glued to the floor like a child. "Yes, ma'am."
The woman gave a slight smile and then turned back to her herbs, no doubt planning to whip up another gag inducing concotion for the pirate back there. Mirrah sighed heavily, not aloud lest she wanted to be chided by the woman again, at the thought of having to thank the man for saving her life. Anything that happened on that boat was a seasick blur. She couldn't even remember the name she had given herself aboard that ship much less the act of the pirate trying to save her. For all she knew, he may've been trying to use her as a float. Regardless, she was still here because he jumped in after her (or fell in). How was she supposed to get into contact with Wilhelm now though? A day or two had passed, according to what the woman said. Did he assume she was dead? Would Mirrah have to find another job?
Mirrah gave her spiraling-into-despair thoughts a rest once she noticed the rhythmic sounds of grinding herbs had come to a halt. She lifted her head to see that the woman had turned her gaze to the open window. Her expression shifted from a pleasant wonder to a startling irritation. She swiftly rose from her seat and walked to the window, her black robes blocking out any hint to what she was looking at. Mirrah could still hear, however, and the woman was muttering underneath her breath.
"That boy..."
