#adion

it had been a tough fight. one at the end of a series of hard battles, that had spanned since they set foot in the so-called golden city, but this time they had not the shelter of the city watch, nor the safety of guard ran inns to sleep in.

that made small difference to most members of the party, given they were blessed with the unsleeping guardian, but said guardian, who may be able to continue without sleep, sill bears the brunt of night attacks, and slowly succumbs to exhaustion and slowness. able to ride his warhorse withe head held high, but when he thought they went looking he would slump into the larger creature, or the nearest natural formation that could hold their weight.

they all tried to take the heat from their healer, but the only other warrior who could stand to take a hit had the luck of someone cursed by whole pantheons of gods. and while the investigator was able to manipulate the winds around him and cause mass damage, he still would hate to risk having to take any of the hits their warrior of sun shrugs off, or mostly shrugs of in these past few weeks, traveling through the wilderness.

but he digresses. the beads. the tough fight. the toughest yet but the next one would surely rob the last one of its crown.

blood soaked the white cloth, long brown and yellow from dust and dirt. as well as a muddy green from past bloodstains. ones these would layer on top of in time. but for now, the unholy poison burning through their cloth and metal and flesh was the pressing mater, and the blood around was a bright green, a startling contrast to dim and hollow colors that had dogged their steps.

the shine of his blade cut through both this thoughts and the stained cloth, bearing chain and rust, chain that he peeled back, bearing pale green flesh and the acid burning through it. he reached for the water-skin, looking the other adventurers in their eyes slowly, as each of them nods their consent to using the little water to help their rock.

the water sparkles tauntingly as it flows over the flesh and acid, mumbled words exit his mouth, long rotten memories of hymns bubbling to the surface, a plea to the watch-full gods to not abandon them. a plea to a god that holds no meaning for him, other than the reason he yet lives, the reason for the content face as they busied themselves at sunset and sunrise.

a glow lights the pale green skin. the water is the same, but the dull glow of the dormant beads, used up not long after they replenished. they glowed bright and strong again, an understanding filled his mind. pieces slotting into place, but not by his hand, but something other.

he reaches out, unpeels the final cloth over them, pulls the rounded objects out. the coldness of ceramic, the worn grain of wood, and the pores of bone greet him. symbols etched in, from sunrises and roads, to initials and name-marks. clumsy daisy's, carved by a a child, and unevenly covered in glaze, marred in some areas by the flame that has set it.

as they dipped into the water, it gained a glow, the sunshine flowing out and inhabiting the old stale water with healing power, the darkness receding and shriveling under the onslaught of joy and love from the beads. the flesh knitting together again, shiny and new.

the warrior moved forward to wake the soldier, stopped by the glare of the mage. they would let the holy warrior rest, healed by the joy of those that cared for them.