Changing Tides [Sammy] Jan 6, 2018 4:49:21 GMT
Post by Ymir Bishop on Jan 6, 2018 4:49:21 GMT
A key lesson was one which Ymir was just learning, and certainly not in an easy way, in her pursuit of her new career: conducting business far from home was just as risky as it was in one’s backyard. Shimmer had been the one which had originally tempted her into the jobs; Ymir, however, had chosen to pursue them further when she’d discovered she enjoyed the excitement of in contrast to teaching at the Lledrith School. The problem, however, was that in maintaining both positions, it was difficult to stray too far off unless it was done in spurts. On one such ‘spurt’, taking a job far from the School, far from the boundary of the Wildes, she’d stayed as far as the coast of the Nihla Ocean. All she’d needed to do was stay in an inn, and burn a couple of correspondence letters before the Inn-Keep delivered them to their recipient.
Things had started to go awry when she felt some nervousness at the strong, surveying, attentive eye of the Keep; the nerves caused her to behave with less precision that she might have otherwise. All hell had broken loose when the Inn-Keep, not unlike a parent catching their child with a hand in a cookie jar, had caught her rifling through his things, searching for the letters. She’d taken them successfully, before he’d thrown her out… But the intended recipient was quick to find from him that they were missing. That had lead to a chase.
Closer to home, she might’ve been more familiar with the area. As it were, she’d only gotten a chance to survey it from one direction on her way in. Another mistake. The third, not necessarily through her own fault but rather because of physiology, was that her pursuer proved faster than she. Ymir had managed to burn the letters in a barrel which kept the small periphery town – scarcely more than a scattering of ramshackle residents, and the single inn – aglow in the night. She’d taken off then, but he was undeterred. Sprinting through the woods, scraping her face and tearing her clothes on branches, she’d ended up cornered atop of thunderous waterfall. His grip, when it finally seized her by the scruff of her cloak, was like iron. The hand likely would’ve seized her hair, were it not braided around the crown of her skull.
She’d been hauled backward before she could react, facing the scathing eyes with her own widened ones. Her face was obstructed, fortunately, the lower portion of it hidden with the dark cloth of a cowl. That was something the man sought to change. His hands extended, fingers catching the fabric roughly as she struggled. Her hands seized his gloved one, nails attempting to pry to no avail. Feeling the fabric shift, she abruptly dropped her hands and threw her body weight downward. As his grip tightened on her cloak, pulling the cowl away, she released the clasp at her throat before it could punish her breathing.
Ducking downward, obstructing her face, she left the man cursing as he found both hands full of useless clumps of fabric. It was then that she made her final mistake of the night, as she stumbled to disentangle herself from the rest of the cloak. Stumbling, flailing, she lost her footing, lost her direction. The ground at the edge of the precipice of rushing water gave way before she could catch herself, or the man could push her. A shrill yelp sounded from her, her voice stifled as weightless free-fall took over, then the shock of cold. Ice cold.
She didn’t remember much, as the darkness of the night gave way to glimpses of the moon beneath the water’s surface. The luminous glow highlighted the wintry smattering of snow on the shore with an ethereal sort of glow. Her dark hair came free, the surging liquid around her tugging at her clothes and battering her body against stones. Her lungs felt as if they were about to burst – her body struggling to swim toward that moonlight as the turbulent current pulled her downstream, and cast bubbles toward the surface. And everything… Everything was so cold, the grip stubborn, pervasive, as it sought to tug her down, down, down…
She swam like she never had before.
Somehow, she managed to catch hold to a wayward branch some ways downstream. The morning light of dawn was lightening the sky by that point. Thoroughly exhausted from the current, and having several cuts and bruises to show for her efforts, she clung to the wooden surface. Her entire body shook violently. Unfortunately, it was as she was trying to pull herself from the current, that the thing gave way, a fruitless denial of her efforts. Crying out again before she was dragged under, clinging to the branch for dear life, a vicious tumble caused her worse injury than had the initial fall. The punishing blow of a stone caused her vision to go dark, blood staining the water from a wound at her temple as she lost consciousness… being swept out of the final bend and into the saltier water of the ocean. Were it not for the branch having tangled with her top, she might’ve been lost beneath the water’s surface altogether.
Above, the sky lightened with beautiful streaks of pink and orange. The heat of the colors shown as a stark contrast to the white mottled land and dark waters.