“do it. i dare you.” for my baby terra
More Vigil had gone missing in the night - one male, one female, both Norn.
They’re stretched too thin to send a search party, so Terra goes instead - Braham close behind her, Garm on their heels.
The blizzard had caught them off guard - and she curses that, because she should have expected it, honestly - and separated them, leaving Terra alone in a swirling cone of white.
No, not alone - never alone, in the Marches.
‘Aren’t you tired?’ the whispers curl around her in the storm, as real as the snow pelting against her face, ‘Don’t you want to rest?’
She ignores it, pushing forwards, stopping when a shadow moves in the distance, beyond the swirl of white.
Too tall to be Braham. Too awkward to be Svanir.
One of the missing Vigil soldiers stumbles forwards - eyes unseeing, blue creeping up the skin of his neck and armor encased in ice. The head tilts towards her, hand fumbling awkwardly for the sword at his belt.
Terra’s fingers clasp around the hilts of her own weapons - dagger and sword both reacting to her touch, lighting up as they are drawn at her sides.
Her breath puffs out, steady and white, eyes locking on the husk of the Vigil. Magic crawls along her spine, ready and tingling.
‘I can help....’ coo the whispers, ever trying to sway her, to distract her as the thrall draws it’s sword, ‘if you’ll just... let me in...’
Terra rolls her shoulders back, sword poised high and dagger held behind her as the thrall shifts positions, sparks gathering near her ankle.
“Do it.” she commands, out loud, speaking to the thrall and not the Dragon, “I dare you.”
An enraged yell and the body rushes forwards, swinging wildly at her neck.
Such a waste.
Terra jumps forwards, shadowstepping and swiping out with her sword, slicing through the dead mans neck. She whirls as the body falls, stabbing downwards - dagger slipping easily through the torso and where the heart would have been.
The body falls still without a sound, ice cracking as she yanks the blade free - beginning to melt as she lets a ball of brilliant flame drop onto it’s back.
You were too late to save him. At least his body can now be put to rest.
‘Such a shame.’ the whispering hums, fading away as the snow slows, ‘You’ll see, soon enough...’
The blizzard stops, leaving only soft snow falling in it’s place, and she glances around at the clearing she’d been led to, grip tight on her weapons.
She can hear shouting from a distance, and heads swiftly in that direction - not allowing herself to look back at the smoldering body, at the life she couldn’t save.
Braham appears through the snow, the second missing Vigil soldier thrown over one of his shoulders - and while he doesn’t ask, his expression says it all.
Are you alright?
“Let’s get her back to the Keep.” Terra pats Garms head, not quite meeting the Norn’s eyes, “She’s the only survivor, I’m afraid.”
Braham’s frown deepens. “Then let’s get the hell out of this snow.”
Terra stays close, this time - maybe closer then necessary, since it seems Jormag has had it’s fun with them for the day.
But she will not be caught off guard again.
