Pst!

The Two Best Thieves in XX

Lost and Loss (9) 

Sage, the tiniest fairy, with pompous pink hair pulled into ponytails, was fast asleep around the campfire. Her blanket was wrapped around her and she had cast a simple invisibility spell upon it. Rone, a strange half plant-half human, with long brown hair and well-worn hands was out picking roots. Rone was in need of some fresh roots to create some salves to replenish the ones he’d recently used. Despite their simple, carefree appearances, these were the two most wanted criminals in the land. Thieves, rogues, criminals, murderers. Rone dug up a small jullilip root from the ground and placed it within his small pouch hanging from his side. 

“RO—” he heard in the distance. The sounds startled him. That couldn’t be Sage, could it? All was well just moments ago… He had only been gone a few moments, right? Rone ran back as quickly as he could to where Sage was sleeping, recklessly sparing no time to conceal his sound as he had previously when leaving the campsite. His stomach twisted in anticipation—he knew that was Sage’s voice, but wasn’t ready to accept what it had meant. As he approached their campsite, the fire blazed in his eyes, and he couldn’t have found Sage even if he wanted to for a few moments. 

“Sage” he hissed. 

There was no response. 

“SAGE!” he said, far too loud for her small ears. 

There was no response. 

He cursed his eyes as they slowly adapted to the new lighting he was facing around the campfire after pure darkness collecting roots. He couldn’t find Sage anywhere though, and his stomach twisted into an even tighter knot. 

“SAGE!” he cried out again as he frantically patted around the ground where she should have been laying. It was a joke. It had to be a joke. She was going to flit down in a moment and tell him what a fool he was. About how he couldn’t sense her magic, but she could his. 

His hand felt a difference in the texture of the ground as his hand ran over her small invisible blanket—left behind. The knot in his stomach had swelled up into his throat and he could hardly bear to keep it down. He cast his eyes upwards towards the vacant new moon and slowly cursed himself as his right fist clenched the fluffy piece of invisible fabric—and trembled. 

****************** 

Rone read through the incantations in his book one last time. He had not wanted to use this spell at all, let alone this soon in their ordeals. From what he understood, he would have immense strength and endurance, but feel immense pain and eventually suffer from a prolonged exhaustion. His flesh would twist into thick wood covered in bark and he would be able to endure an abnormal amount of wounds, yet he would feel all of the pain. The spell would last for a decent amount of time, but leave him vulnerable as well. Rone knew all too well he had no water magic to draw upon and that fire was his ultimate weakness as a plant. He was fearful of the fire he was likely to encounter upon using this spell. The flames licking upon his tree-like, sapped riddled flesh would feel horrific while happening. 

Rone had little time to waste and after assuring himself of the incantations necessary for the spell he was about to cast, he ran off towards the northern coast. He knew where the Trehnton army was situated because Sage and him had only fled from them about 3 days ago. At the time they saw the Trehnton’s boats docked on the northern coast and since then had progressively made their way south back to where their own boat had been hidden. Both of them had felt no presence around them for the last 2 days and were sure they were safe when Rone had left Sage to take a small nap while he collected roots. 

As Rone’s feet raced along the soil after Sage, his heart raced even faster. He knew they would waste no time returning to their boats with Sage in hand. For as fast as he could run, whoever had captured Sage was likely to run faster back to their own camp than he was. His legs were not that gifted either. 

After a strenuous, slow, steady run (with one break) of nearly 5 hours, Rone arrived at the encampment along the northern coast. He had gone unnoticed in his pursuit of the bandit who stole Sage away because they were as desperate to make it back to camp as he was to catch them. He knew they did not wish to face him or Sage one-on-one and had made their move only because an opportune moment had arisen. He noticed immediately their ships were being prepared to set sail. He had to act quickly or Sage would be gone. His knees shook, and his stomach dropped, as he looked upon all the troops amassed on the northern coast. 

He took the water flask from his side and took a long drink from it before stretching out his muscles briefly. His eyes scanned the horizon all the while, taking in what details he could. The flagship of the army was the second from the right from his vantage point and was to be the direction for the path he was about to begin. Sage was bound to be close to there, he would find where she was for sure the closer he made it to that flagship. 

Rone clenched his fist and said softly to himself, “Sage’s knowledge is worth more than my own, and in turn, her life is worth more than my own. They will not capture my master like this.” He drew a small knife from the belt resting upon his hip and cut off his long ponytail. Although he usually hid flowers and leaves within his hair as discreet weapons, he knew his hair would bring him no such advantage this time. He knew if he was going to save Sage, he would face the flames of the Trehnton army. He gathered his thoughts and charged down the small sloping hill towards the army’s encampment. 

As Rone’s legs accelerated down the hill, he cast his spell (XXXXXX-still gotta pick a fuckin name). The pain in his body was excruciating as his skin twisted into a bark-like substance and his blood thickened like sap. He screamed out in pain as his body went through the changes, but he did not slow. He drew a tiny staff from his back and spoke softly to it while it expanded to a length of several feet. 

As Rone reached the bottom of the small incline, he was running at an unnatural speed and his body had finished twisting into the grotesque, tree-like form he had now assumed. The first wave of troops had noticed him at this point, and signaled the alarm that he was approaching. They had to know it was Rone—who else would charge blindly into the enemy in pursuit of a freshly stolen Sage? 

No one. 

Rone wasted no time on the first wave of troops, ramming his staff against the first one’s throat before making a quick connection with the second one's right kneecap. He slumped under the impact and Rone quickly turned and cracked his staff against a third attacker’s skull, quickly dropping him to the ground. Rone wasn’t happy about what was ensuing, but knew he was ready to kill to save Sage despite how much he disliked it. These gruesome injuries he inflicted now were not life-threatening. 

He pressed onward trying not to be slowed because he knew a circle was soon to form around him like a beast. His staff connected with the fourth troop right on the breast-bone and sent them staggering backwards. Rone drew his staff back towards him and another assailant came down upon his right arm with a sword. 

Rone screamed in pain as it felt like his arm was being severed—but when he looked he saw the sword had become lodged within his thick bark-like arm. He yanked his arm and the sword ripped out of the soldier's hands in shock before he drove his fist into the soldier's face knocking her senseless. The rage inside Rone burned as his eyes sought for someone who would be holding Sage captive. He tried to free the blade from his right arm but was unable to—so left it. 

After slowing for his last skirmish Rone started picking up a bit more speed leaving the first wave behind and pushing into the dense second and third waves of troops whipping his staff one way and the other to clear the way. He leaped through the air with the grace of a large cat before descending upon his next victim with a quick crack off his staff. He followed that with a well planted left foot and sweeping movement of his staff that obliterated the left kneecap of his next victim. Rone felt an arrow ‘thunk’ into his left arm, but was getting used to the ungodly pain he felt at this point. His strength was not diminished by the pain. If anything, it was amplified. 

Rone saw the archer who had shot him back in the last row of the third rank. He pressed forward with all of his might, dropping another three soldiers with his staff before another two arrows ‘thunked’ into his left arm that was quickly turning into a miserable shield. He drove his left forearm into his next unfortunate attacker, splintering arrow shafts in their face. The fire inside of Rone’s belly was overwhelming and he was not comfortable with it. He rarely acted so brazen and reckless—it was terrifying. But he had to save Sage… 

As the next arrow whizzed towards Rone, he no longer attempted to avoid it—he merely put his left arm up like a shield and let the arrow sink into it as the pain coursed through his body. He cracked his staff right, then left, clearing a space around him thereafter without hitting anyone as he ran forward. He finally was instilling fear in them, leverage he needed. Another arrow, and he again put his left arm up to let it sink into his barky, mottled flesh. Rone planted his right foot and jumped into the air before driving his staff down into the next attacker in front of him. His staff drove into the victim's chest and forced the air out of his lungs and Rone continued on. 

Rone was utterly disgusted with himself. He just wanted Sage back. He heard a gasping from among the army he was forcing his way through at this point. He was one man, twisted into a horrific creature, but had now pierced deep into the third ranks of their army and their archers were having no effect on him as the arrows accumulated in his arm. The circle of troops widened, and Rone did not like what his stomach told him was next. 

Fire. 

Fire.. 

Fire… 

He focused his attention towards the flagship he now approached and ran as fast as he could in its direction knowing what was about to happen. The troops continued to widen around him as he approached and as they did he cursed softly under his breath about his stupidity for having left Sage alone. This was entirely his fault. 

****************** 

Sage, meanwhile, was stuffed inside a magic-resilient bottle and firmly in the grasp of the army’s young general Trivout. Sage had tried hard, but was unable to do anything about her capture besides let out a scream for Rone when they first laid hands on her. She could feel his magic aura approaching now, even if she could not see him inside of this sack her bottle was stuffed inside. Something was wrong though. His aura felt twisted, enraged, bloodthirsty—not traits Rone would be cultivating. What had happened since her capture? What had he offered himself up to? 

Sage gasped—she knew then he had not offered himself up to some devilish spirit. No. This was his own doing, she knew the spell he was using. The pain he must be going through at this point to save her—she could hardly think about what it must feel like. His soft flesh twisted into a barky mass of dense wood. He must be suffering so many cuts, so many wounds, just to free her. Sage was upset her magic had not done well enough to hide her from the enemy. She had assured Rone everything was fine, and that he could go collect roots. She had urged him to in fact—he had not wanted to leave her alone at first. He trusted her though, and she had let him down. If only she could get out of this damned bottle she was in, she thought to herself. Then, everything was much brighter, but she didn’t know why. It was almost a blinding light... 

****************** 

Rone screamed out in pain as the arrows soaked in resin and lit on fire rained down upon him. He again had put his left arm out that was already covered with arrows to take the impact, but this time, his barky arm immediately caught fire. The resin coated his entire left forearm and as he wavered for just a moment, a few splattered resin onto the left side of his chest and the worst pain Rone had ever experienced coursed through him. He swore flames were bellowing out of his eye sockets. Yet, he did not slow his run but sped up—wielding his new flaming left arm in a sweeping fashion. He dropped his staff and instead chose to slam that flame-drenched left arm into the faces and bodies of his victims. The ones lucky enough to not get the resin like substance on them as well only dropped to the ground from the club like effect. 

Another showering of arrows rained down upon Rone, this time on his right side. He turned into them and put both arms outwards protecting his body from the arrows, and his right arm quickly caught fire to match his left. The flames licked around him, singeing his eyebrows and what he’d left behind of his hair. 

“SAGE!” Rone screamed with all the might in his lungs. The sap-like blood within him was boiling and he trembled with rage. He knew he was close to Sage and could not, would not, stop now. In a frightful display, Rone singled in upon the archer who had just struck him, dropped his arms to the ground in front of him and ran momentarily on all fours, flames curling around his body, smoke trailing him, before jumping and hurling his entire body against the archer and driving them both into the ground. Rone rose from all fours and grabbed the archer by his shirt while snatching the satchel upon his hip with his other hand and quickly dropping it to the ground before the flames got ahold of it. He then tossed the archer aside and howled out again in agonizing pain, “SAGE!” He then stuck his right foot through the satchel’s straps and slid it up his leg in a quick motion tying the strap tight to his thigh where the flames weren’t burning it. 

****************** 

The young general, just witnessing the gruesome display before him, took two steps backwards for the first time. He had not doubted the success of his army before this moment, but as he saw the fire engulfing Rone reflecting in his own eyes, Trivout had lost his nerve for the first time. He did not see a man—like how he saw himself. No. He saw a wild creature racked with the curse of magic. One possessed with blind-rage capable of killing him despite the cost to itself. How had the fire not stopped that beast, Trivout wondered. His king had assured him that would stop Rone if things got out of hand, but here he came unrelenting, covered in flames. Sage felt the rustling in her pouch of the general backstepping in an uneasy manner. She also felt Rone’s unsettling aura twisting further into a pain-filled madness that he might not come back from. Sage trembled at the feel of his aura, unsure if he was really some gambit to be played to save her like she felt now. Reckless. Desperate. Spiteful... She had not felt these feelings from Rone so passionately ever. She only hoped it wasn’t too late to save both of them, somehow, someway. It would soon be her turn to pay a price if this was Rone’s price now. 

******************

After Rone’s hideous display, the circle again widened around him. The average soldiers he faced were completely demoralized by what they had seen. Rone had only increased in savagery with the increased efforts to take him down. Trivout sensed there was no point running now, and boldly stepped forward at last, drawing his longsword as his men retreated. This in turn gathered a rallying call from his men, as Trivout had hoped, and they circled up around the ensuing fight between Rone and Trivout. Yet, Rone’s eyes did not even register what was happening beyond the single figure he now had pinned within his unstoppable path. As Trivout planted his feet and made a thrust of his longsword towards Rone’s chest, Rone didn’t even deviate his path or hesitate as the blade drove deep within him until it came to a rest. Rone didn’t hesitate, and clutched Trivout’s throat within his left hand. The flames licked over Rone and onto Trivout in a horrific sight as Trivout’s hair quickly caught fire and burned itself out. 

Trivout gasped for what air he could, trying to get out any words to Rone that would distract him for a second before finally registering the look in Rone’s eyes. It was a look of pure hatred as his fingers closed in around his throat and he knew there were no words that would ever escape his throat again. Yet, Rone gently reached down with his right arm, and ignited the small satchel at his side attempting to undo the strings instead of killing him. As he did, the bottle containing Sage fell to the ground before Rone shattered it under a firm, but gentle, application of his foot, that in turn let the small fairy escape. 

****************** 

Sage saw a blinding flash of light and then was falling, falling, and before the bottle could rebound off the soil, it cracked open. Free. Her small bottle had dropped out of that bastard's satchel and she was free to escape, but to where? She knew Rone was nearby based on the aura but… oh my… What she was faced with was not what she would have ever expected. Her eyes rose slowly. Rone was a horrific sight towering above her, with flames twisting around his body, swords and arrows stuck into him, and sappy, resinous, blood pouring down him. She thought to herself, “What was he thinking?! Did he not feel the energy of life seeping out of him? He had to feel that pain. Adrenaline isn’t that powerful… How is he…” Then she realized she was wasting time. 

“Rone, what are yo—” 

“Go to the flagship Sage! NOW!” 

Sage was horrified with what she saw in Rone’s face when he told her to get to the flagship—but she was in no place to question him. She would be corked right now if it wasn’t for him and he had risked everything to get as far as he had by her assumptions. She did as she was told, and flitted quickly over to the flagship, waiting for Rone to follow. 

******************

“Go to the flagship Sage! NOW!” the words came out of Rone’s throat harsh and grating. Was that him speaking? His body twisted in pain and he felt like he could collapse at any minute if he couldn’t get these fires out soon. In this form, his body would not withstand flames like it would gashes and cuts. 

Rone tightened his grip around Trivout’s throat, looking deep into his eyes. He did not feel like himself. He yearned to squeeze every last ounce of life out of Trivout right then and there. He did not want to be or feel like the savage creature he had become to save Sage—but he was. The thought of Sage being free again slowly filled Rone’s mind and his grip eased. 

“Tell your King to do better.” Rone motioned with his other flame drenched hand at the troops he’d laid to waste behind him, before hurling Trivout aside like a ragdoll. The troops, seeing their general mercilessly throttled, held up a defensive line and drew back from Rone as he now moved swiftly towards the flagship. A couple remaining troops were brave enough to fire arrows again at him, but none approached him for combat. As Rone climbed aboard the boat he screamed and wailed in agony as the flames engulfed around his body even further, his torso starting to fully catch. He threw himself to the ground and rolled around making horrific noises as the army stood back and watched Rone’s demise. 

“Let him burn himself out” they whispered to each other. 

However, Rone wasn’t quite burning to death—yet. As he threw himself to the ground faking his death, he smeared the contents of the bag he had stolen that was tied to his leg all over the central post of the ship. As he took the contents out though, it instantly ignited in his hand as he went to smear the compound on the central post of the ship. He could not take this much longer, so once he smeared the sap onto the ship to hopefully burn it down, he rolled towards the edge and the beautiful salt water that was over it. 

He hoped the flames, smoke, and fear would let him get away at this point. Or at least off the ship to die somewhere of his own accord. As he made it over the edge into the water, he felt the soothing blast of icy water upon his charcoaled and ember-infested flesh. His body in its woody state, floated easily on the water and he turned onto his back, feeling horrible, and started to kick his legs—moving himself out to sea as opposed to down the coast. 

****************** 

Sage saw what was happening in horrific disgust and tried to trust Rone had a plan and he wasn’t burning alive. She waited a short distance from him, and when he rolled into the water, she was at least thankful there was some inkling of hope. As she flitted down to where his smoldering body was in the water, she wondered why he was heading out to sea as opposed to down the coast. 

“Where are you going Rone!?” she said as she came down upon him. 

“Out. Let me float…” his kicking was slowing as well as his breath. 

“Rone! What am I supposed to do?!” Sage was in a panic. 

“Let me float. For the length of one fairy nap. Trust me.”

Sage didn’t like the proposition, but did like that Rone’s aura was settling, untwisting, normalizing. It was still wrong though, she knew he was in great pain and needed help. “ONE fairy nap,” said Sage as she sat down on his forehead, “if you can take it with me sitting here.” 

“Deal.” 

Sage was troubled by how quickly he drifted off to sleep as his body drifted out to sea, but what else was she to do? Not long ago, she was even more helpless than this. She had to trust that her apprentice had a plan and that after his fairy nap they would start solving this predicament. She sat with great impatience, but absolutely stillness, upon Rone’s forehead. 

Sage waited the exact length of one fairy nap, to the F, and woke Rone up promptly upon its completion. 

She lifted off his forehead and flew just in front of his face, “Wake UP captain!”

****************** 

Rone had been right in assuming the army he had just plowed through had not followed him out to sea. In fact, he could still see flames on the horizon which meant the flagship was still burning slowly as he had hoped with the troops now in disarray with their mangled leader. “Sage. I thought I’d lost you there.” 

“You fool, I thought I’d lost YOU.” 

“I can be replaced, you can—” 

“Shut up Rone! You cannot be replaced. There is not another apprentice I can find.”

“But you can train a—” 

“Shut up Rone!” tears were streaming down Sage’s face. “Just shut up, okay? You can’t be replaced.” 

“I’ll drop it, this time. I don’t have much fight left.” 

“That’s what I was afraid of. I don’t know what to do Rone—you’ve got us into this and you’ve got to get us out of it… How do I get you back to shore…” 

“If I said I never planned to make it back to shore, would you—” 

“Shut up Rone! Stop joking!” 

“Have a plan?” 

“No. I wouldn’t.” Sage crossed her arms and tapped her left foot in the air.

Rone closed his eyes. “I just figured after I floated a while, they’d all think I was dead after that display, and I’d swim back to shore. I was hoping that even though I swam out from the shore, a current would catch me and drag me south. Then I could kick my legs as hard as I could.” 

“Shut up Rone! You’re fucking messing with me. What’s that real plan?” Sage glared down at him, tired of the joking. But, she saw no humor in his eyes. Only an immense pain.

“That’s it Sage. The only plan was to ensure I free’d you—the rest has been improvised… I know that’s going to make you mad.”

Sage wasn’t surprised though, she had felt his aura on his way to save her. So twisted and desperate. Hatred billowed off his frame like trails of smoke as he had approached. She could only imagine what had unfolded as he tore a path to her through the army that was now left behind on the northern shore. 

“If you’re telling me the truth… Then I’m not mad….” A wry smile came over Sage’s lips, cruel almost. “LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! MOVE! MOVE!” 

Rone let out a small chuckle and tried his best to kick his battered legs to the tempo Sage was driving out mere inches from his ears. He so badly wanted to sleep, to close his eyes, to drift off into the ocean forevermore… His body was in immense pain and he knew there wasn’t much left in him to get him back to shore. He hadn’t the heart to tell Sage that if it wasn’t for his barky body that was slowly absorbing more water keeping him afloat, he would long since have been dead. 

****************** 

Sage was uncomfortable about the colors she was seeing in Rone’s face—even if it was wrapped in a brown bark. It was turning an ashy gray and his kicking had slowed dramatically. She could see the shore line finally coming back into sight, but wasn’t sure if Rone would make it that much further. She tried not to look panicked because he was kicking his feet and assuring her that he could make it. She didn’t believe him though and was starting to let fears creep into her mind. 

“How long do you have left before this spell wears off?” 

“Maybe another hour?” 

“Rone….” 

“What is it? We’ll make it.” 

“At what cost…” Sage fought back the tears to appear strong, “Rest your eyes for just a few minutes. A second fairy nap…” She tugged at the bottom of her dress uncomfortably.

Rone knew that if he were to take a second nap now, that was essentially his death sentence. But he also knew he was lying to Sage and didn’t have the strength within him to make it back to shore either. Perhaps being asleep as the water filled his exhausted frame and lungs was better—especially if Sage was encouraging him to do so. She had to know what she was asking him to do. 

“Okay Sage. If you insist.” Rone gave himself up then and there to whatever fate the ocean chose for him, and closed his weary eyes knowing that Sage was at least safe and could fly to shore as he sank below the rolling waves to finally rest. 

But when he closed his eyes, Sage was quick to work. She took a small length of rope from her backpack and strung it around his two, now motionless, feet. Tears escaped her as she did, knowing that Rone’s life now depended on her saving him. After the rope was fixed around his feet, she rummaged through her backpack for one last thing. A disgusting, vile, green potion saved just for an occasion like this. The rank concoction gave her the strength of twenty fairies, but was highly intoxicating and did not last for as long as she’d like. Whenever she had tried it before, she had vomited for hours on end after the effects wore off. 

Now though, she didn’t even pinch her nose as she unstoppered the bottle with one hand and tossed it back quickly with the other, drinking the entire concoction in one pull. Her face twisted in disgust as the slimy mixture slid down her throat, coating her insides all the way down to her stomach. She clutched at her stomach and nearly retched at the quantity she drank so quickly. Never before had she taken so much. 

She quickly braced her back in preparation of the rope against her skin that she had tied between Rone’s leg and put her tiny legs into the water and started kicking with all of her might. She thought about her legs like they were her wings and told herself if I can beat my wings thousands of times a minute, I can do the same with my legs. 

The potion was working through her quickly and she felt herself quickly finding the task of working as hard as it was humorous. She banished those thoughts and recentered herself, but they just as quickly returned as they had dissipated. She stopped kicking and turned around to look at Rone and screamed as she realized less and less of him was now floating above the water. She did not know what was going on with his body, but it was not good. 

She put her back against the rope and re-doubled her efforts kicking her legs at a pace she had never achieved before. Her small legs kicked long powerful strokes under the potions effect and she wondered if this is how Rone’s body felt when swimming through water. Such power, such momentum. Abruptly, the rope vanished as Rone’s body crashed over the wave they had just been riding upon. 

****************** 

The rocking and tossing motion of Rone’s body followed by the abrupt crash into hard, solid water, had reawakened him from his slumber. He had no idea what was happening though. He should be dead or choking on water as his head dipped below the water level. Why had he just been tossed and was now tumbling? 

He tried with what little might he had to swim to what had to be the surface of the water above him. He prayed he was not swimming down in the wave’s confusion of his sleep. As the next wave swept over above him and he felt the pull of the water moving, he was thankful he was indeed swimming towards the surface. His head crested through the water as he gasped for air. 

“RONE!” Sage’s voice bleated out. “RONE! The shore’s over HERE!” 

Rone certainly didn’t see her tiny frame, but heard her and started floundering in the direction of her voice. As the next wave came along, he made sure it swept him along and tossed him into the shallower waters, his energy fleeting. Thankfully, his feet found sand beneath them this time, and he struggled to stand up. As he did, Sage reached out and grabbed his right arm pulling him, quite forcefully forward, and out of the water. As he made it to the shore, she continued to pull him by his right arm as he slumped forward into the sand. Her strength was still amplified by the potion she had just consumed though. She drug Rone from the shore line into a thicket of low lying bushes. 

Rone knew he didn’t have the strength left to tend to himself, but Sage appeared to have more strength than he just had hours before. “You’ve got to help Sage. I know you’re not going to want to do what I’m asking of you, but it’s the only way. You’ve got to hack off my left arm at the shoulder… The sap will close the wound before the spell wears… 

“Shut up… Shut up…” 

“You’re lucky the sword can come out of my chest before I change back.”

“Oh and I supposed you want me to use that…” 

“Exactly.” 

Sage hadn’t really processed everything that was run through multiple areas of Rone’s body until now. She reached down and pulled the longsword out in one clean motion as Rone screamed out in pain, tears streaming down his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Do you want—” 

“No. Go quicker.” 

Sage squinched her face up and tried to pretend she wasn’t about to do what she was. With one clean swing ending in a “thud” she quickly removed his left arm at the shoulder. Next, she went about quickly removing five arrows that remained in his right arm. She then set about removing the two daggers that were rammed into his right arm and right thigh. “Rone why did—” 

“Not now,” mustered Rone between clenched teeth. 

She quieted herself now that all the weapons had been removed and sap was flowing over and sealing the wounds. She sat down on his chest next to the spot where the longsword had been ramed through so close to where his heart still beat now. She reached out, feeling very emotional and rather tipsy, and stuck her fingers into the sap oozing out of the opening and traced a small heart on Rone’s chest with it above his beating heart. She flitted over to where his left arm had been and did the same with the sap there—tracing the heart this time on top of his shoulder. 

“You jus’ reesstttah….” slurred Sage, but Rone had no effort left to question her language or his reality as he closed his eyes and drifted off into exhaustion-induced sleep. Sage sat herself upon his forehead and tried to settle the anxiety and discomfort swimming inside her small stomach for as long as she could. 

****************** 

Sage flew quickly away from Rone who had been asleep for some time now and promptly turned herself inside out. Magic never works for free, she told herself between projectile blasts of green vomit escaping her tiny frame. She knew she had not drank anywhere near the amount of liquid that was now escaping her, but she had been aware that this was her lot. She was ultimately better off than the mangled and burned heap Rone was now.

Sage’s toes quivered endlessly as she continued to vomit and retch much to her dismay. After vomiting for what felt like hours, she was able to spare a glance in Rone’s direction. He was no longer covered in bark and was covered in scars, scabs, burns, and all sorts of horrible disfigurations. Before she could take it all in, she was puking again—her tiny stomached pinched by a pair of unseen fingers. The acid on the back of her teeth and tongue was so repulsive that when she finally got a minute, she rinsed her mouth down at the ocean, before that too made her vomit. She tried again, with better success the second time around. 

It was at this point that she made her way over to Rone who was still in a deep sleep. He wasn't at least bleeding profusely. There were some parts of him where he hadn’t completely scabbed over—like his chest and shoulder—where the skin was still pink and bloody though. The flames that had covered his arms left burn marks, boils, and blisters all along his skin and he currently was without eyebrows or hair. Sage shuddered at how bad he looked lying there. How could she be worth this to him? 

Sage rummaged through her backpack, looking for a salve to put on his wounds. The trouble with her backpack was you could fit anything in there, but then when you reached your hand in there you could grab anything first! She eventually found what she was looking for though and began to apply it to Rone’s pinkened and blackened flesh. The sting upon his chest brought Rone’s eyes open. 

“Eeeeaahhh! That burns!” 

Sage almost dropped her container of salve as she whipped her head to take in his not-lifeless-body, “Oh Rone…” She pressed her hand with the salve deeper into the wound upon his chest with guilty pleasure. 

“Aaaah!” 

“Quiet Rone, you’ll draw attention to us. We’re in enough trouble as is.” As she smeared the salve into his next wound, he made no sound, and her eyes drew wide, “We’ll a little sound is okay…” but he made no further sounds as she cleaned up the rest of his wounds. 

“I was only teasing you know Rone…” she looked up at his face and then deep into his eyes. 

“I thought I lost you Sage. If they had left with you on that boat… I…” tears ran down his face. 

“Shut up, and eat some of this root,” said Sage as she stuffed some nourishing dried roots she had in his open mouth—embarrassed about how the situation was unfolding just then. “You’re wasting your strength.” 

Rone smacked down the dry, sandy, roots because he knew he needed to eat something. “Are we camping here tonight?” 

“Yes. I don’t figure your body is going to take itself anywhere else tonight is it?”

“Well, didn’t you like carry—” 

“Ssh! You heard what I said didn’t you? We’re camping here tonight.” Sage reached around again in her backpack for what was the easiest item to find within it—the large blanket that covered Rone. As she pulled the leading edge of its soft shimmering green fabric out, Rone’s eye caught it, and he helped her pull the blanket out and lay it over himself. This one wasn’t invisible in any way like the fancier one Sage had, but neither of them cared. It was comfort—it was warmth. 

“Thanks Sage, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Rone reached out and ran the knuckle of his right pinky finger gently along her left cheek. 

Sage knew he spoke the truth, and was embarrassed for her lack of fitting words. She said, and immediately regretted, “There aren't any fairies like you.” 

But Rone smiled, brought his arm down, and closed his eyes. He knew what she had meant, even though he wasn’t a fairy, she was sure of it by his body language. Sage took another fleeting glance at how funny Rone looked without eyebrows or hair before snuggling up on top of his chest as he adjusted the blanket to cover all but her head upon him. Before Rone could doze off to sleep, he felt the gentle pitter-patter of Sage’s tears upon his chest. “Sage are you okay—” 

“I’m fine Rone. Sleep. I’m just thankful to be here with you now.” He ran his knuckle along the length of her cheek again—which she truly loved him doing—before returning it to his side. His breathing slowed and he drifted off to sleep as Sage lay there feeling the warmth of his body seep into her. She thought about how cold his body had felt earlier at sea, how near he was to death when she lost him over that wave, and how she would have lost him for good in her strengthened stupor if he hadn’t swam to the surface himself. She didn’t want to think about his left arm at all. She couldn’t even imagine what Rone had seen before reaching her within that jar. 

In her mind she tried, telling herself a fictitious narrative of his adventure to reach her, which numbed her senses and helped her drift off to sleep where she dreamed about a lone wolf fighting off hundreds of ferocious, rabid, weasels. 

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