The Journey

The energy of something not being right, seemed to drift in the wind to outside the city. Islana could guess the reason for that feeling. It wouldn't surprise her if the lack of penitents, arriving from the Pilgrimage, had been alarming.

Islana was concerned, exhausted and hurting; the push to get here had aggravated her injuries. She needed a break before entering the city.

Madaya, who also looked tired and concerned, seemed to read Islana's mind and pointed towards the river.

"We should rest a bit before going in." The younger woman said.

The river was calm; as they approached it, there wasn't anyone lingering here, probably because the evening was growing dark.

Islana used the walking stick to help her sit on the river's edge, took off her sandals and put her ankle in the water. The coolness felt good on her swollen joint, and she wished to be able to just put her whole burnt body in there.

It would just remain a wish; but maybe, eventually a bath would be on the agenda. And new clothes; as hers were ripped, covered in dirt, and stained with blood.

Islana wondered if the Ozanine healer would work his magic on her arm and ankle again. Another wish, perhaps, but that was a bigger possibility than bathing in the river, at the moment.

Madaya looked deep in thought, Islana didn't want to interrupt her. They both had things to contemplate and the redhead went into her own thoughts.

They had made it; Islana might be a bit bent but she wasn't broken. She had survived everything that had been thrown at her. The near deaths of the sandstorm, a mirage of quicksand, hunger, thirst, the Skara.

Still convinced that the spirit walk came at her actual death. Seeing her mother. Alexis and Tarmen, Gonyaul and Voah, Shalia - their present and futures still in her mind, along with the wonder about those she was not granted access to.

Meeting Madaya, protecting her. While the old Islana would have done that; she probably wouldn't have believed she could. She never would have thought to fight the Skara.

The Sk'elep came to mind; having saved her twice. She didn't really know if there was a proper way to thank a spirit. Maybe the fact that she had made it was enough? It just felt like more was needed.

That brought to mind the fight with the Skara, the violation of her mind by the hive. Memories of it left her with a sense of fear and dread. Nightmares of it interrupted her sleep on a regular basis. It was something she would have to deal with, eventually. Mostly on her own, because it was doubtful anyone would understand completely what she was going through. She hadn't discussed it with Madaya, but the girl knew Islana had been struggling since the attack.

The Pilgrimage had broken the witch, and rebuilt her. She felt more mature, and like this was the person the young woman was always meant to become. The things that had to be still worked through would be, in time. The huntress had grown to know herself more. Her adolescence forever left behind in the sands of the desert. Islana had walked into adulthood.