Bitten

Pain exploded through Eyna’s body. 

The snake struck true, sinking sharp teeth deep into her forearm. Eyna’s blood joined that of the snake's own, mixing and mingling in the water. Bubbles burst from her mouth as Eyna screamed. For a moment, the pain was like a searing brand, so intense she felt like the snake surely had to be tearing her arm apart.

She struggled and writhed, but the snake had an unyielding grasp on her arm.

Just when she thought for certain that it was going to rip and tear off her arm, the pain vanished. It was simply there. And then it was not.

Or, at the very least, replaced by something manageable. A sting, like one left by a disgruntled bumblebee. She looked down. Her arm was still there. It didn't even look like it was damaged. The snake was still latched onto her forearm, gripping her tightly. And it hurt, yes. But Eyna could tell that it wasn’t a truly malicious bite.

For a moment, Pepper’s comment about venomous snakes echoed eerily in her mind. But there was no time to consider it. She needed to surface, and do so now.

In Eyna’s defense, she’d dealt with many bites in her lifetime. Were it not for Mother’s healing sap, she’d have plenty of scars to speak to her adventures. When she was little, she’d been a curious, capricious child who had wanted to play with everyone. It took time and experience to learn that not everyone wanted to play alongside her.

Eyna was older now - wiser, one might hope, but she still wasn’t afraid of the snake. Not even after it bit her.

The real challenge was resurfacing. Eyna’s legs were strong, but the snake was starting to coil around her. It was heavy and dragged her down. The mouth was still latched on her arm, and the snake seemed to be clinging to Eyna more than trying to hurt her. But that didn’t mean they weren’t both going to sink for it. 

Eyna needed air.

She kicked frantically. Up above, shadows fell over her. Faces she couldn’t quite make out through the water. Eyna reached up, but her strength was fading, lungs burning. Bubbles burst from her mouth. The light was slowly fading as she lost consciousness.

A powerful arm burst through the waters and hauled Eyna up by the scruff of her neck. She was wrenched out of the water, dragging the snake up along with her. Eyna coughed and sputtered. The snake was a dead weight around her for a moment, coiled tightly - and then it was gone. Eyna blinked, trying to get a good look at it. But she was swiftly wrapped in a strong, unyielding embrace.

Father.

Father wrapped her up, powerful arms around her. The scent of mint leaves and pine filled her nose. The scent of home. The scent of safety. 

“Eyna! What were you thinking?!” His voice was hard, downright thunderous, as he spoke. A rumble that reverberated in her chest. “You reckless, foolish girl!”

Despite the fierceness of his voice, he held her tightly. Securely. Eyna swallowed. She felt a little shaky, yes. Jittery.

“Eyna.” Father gradually loosened his embrace. He looked down at her. He seemed… Angry. His usual cheerful expression was carved of dark stone - muscles taut, jaw locked. “What have you done to yourself, child?”

“Eh? I’m… I’m fine. It was just…” Eyna blinked, feeling a sudden wave of dizziness rush over her. She shook her head, trying to clear it. “There was… A snake. An injured snake, and…”

Eyna tried to look over Father’s shoulder for the snake. She hoped that it was alright. Father shifted his hold on her, blocking her view, and forcing her to look up at him.

“A snake.” Father echoed her words grimly. “... You thought there was an injured snake in the pool. Eyna, how many times have I told you not to enter the pools? How many?”

“I know, but there was a snake and it was injured and-”

Father let out a sharp, low sound. “And you put yourself in danger! You put your siblings in danger! Eyna, you reckless, belligerent child! What would you have done if Saffron hadn't sent for me?!"

“But it’s o-okay, right? I saved the snake. A-And you saved m-me.” Eyna chattered. Strange. Her teeth were clacking together like she was cold. But she wasn’t…

Father didn’t answer. 

Eyna frowned. She felt hot. But the heat seemed to be emanating from within herself. And as she grappled with Father’s back, she felt weak. Her arm, in particular, felt like it was burning up. She looked down at it, expecting to see teeth marks. Scratches maybe. Redness. And there were certainly puncture marks. But all around them was a pulsing mass of darkness, climbing up her arm. It looked to her, in that brief glimpse, like her arm was rotting from her body.

It felt like her heart stopped.

There is was. Black rot that pulsed and spread from the bite marks. Her veins were inflamed, as if molten lava pumped through them.

“Eh…? What’s…”

She had only a few moments to see it before Father was holding her tightly, pressing her to him protectively. Father was deliberately cutting off her view, gentle but powerful hands guiding her own away. He pressed a fierce kiss to her head. “You reckless child…”

“Father, what’s…”

“Shh. It’s alright, Eyna. You’re going to be alright.” Father hushed her. As he held her, he gently rubbed circles at her back. His anger seemed to have melted into something else. Something almost soothing. But that frightened her more than the anger. It was the voice Father used when tending to a fallen deer with shattered legs. When the injuries were severe and the victim needed to be eased and gentled.

Eyna gripped at Father’s tunic, eyes wide. She wanted to ask him what was happening. To demand that he not lie to her. That he be truthful and honest and tell her what was happening. But the words didn’t come out. Eyna felt herself grow faint. The darkness closed in as she fell into unconsciousness.

But there was no relief in dreams. For those that came were to her as she fell limp in Father's arms were strange and hostile things.

Water slid down the walls. Dripping rhythmically.

It was cold. Frigid. Delicate webs of frost extended across the ground and panes of fractured glass. It was painful to breathe. Every drag of air through battered lungs was a red and raw thing. Each outward breath was a ghost that lingered in the chilled air for a moment before dying.

The room was thick with the scent of ozone. Outside the room, storm clouds were heavy and dark. The rumble of thunder. But inside the room, sparks burst against stone - as if someone were grinding metal to a blade.

Another rasping breath.

Thick, heavy blood pooled beneath curled hands. Claws slid on the slippery stones below, grasping for purchase on something. Anything.

Our eyes cast downward.

There was something embedded in our chest. A long, sharpened blade that glinted in the low light. Our blood coated it, staining our chest.

Clawed hands curled towards it. Struggling to process the sight of such a foreign object, straight through our chest.

Pain. White hot pain that tore into every cell, every scrap of flesh.

We were not alone.

A voice snarled out from within the darkness. It was deep and guttural and utterly filled with rage. “Curse you. Curse you, and all that you are, and all that-”