Drip. Drip. Drip.
An ever present noise, invaded Riven's senses as he stared at the ceiling.
He couldn't close his eyes.
His body didn't let him.
....He'd see those slits if he did.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
woooh!
The wind howled gently, dulled due to the cave's hollow interior.
That scene kept replaying in his head....
Non-stop.
SPURT!
The sound of blood painting the floor, painting his hands, painting his cheek.
Those eyes losing vision; dying like a fallen star.
He had to do it, but that didn't make it any less....
Drip. Drip. Drip.
He placed ice-chilled hands on his head, covering his vision slightly.
Cold.
Useless.
It wouldn't leave.
"...Hhhk--"
Riven's eyes snapped open.
Not a memory.
Not the drip above, or the phantom sounds in his heads.
A cough.
Small.
Weak.
Real.
He turned, muscles stiff.
The girl next to him had shifted.
Her lashes flickered across her snow-white skin, lips open drawing shallow breaths.
Her voice had come out.
Broken.
A whisper dragged out by dry lips.
"...Mother...?"
Riven just stared, frozen still.
Her lips moved again, softer.
"...Mother?"
She stirred, lashes shaking before she pushed herself up, blankets slipping slightly.
Every motion was hesitant, weak.
His eyes were fixed on the girl, chest tight as though the cave pressed down.
Her fingers twitched, lifting slowly to her own throat.
The skin was tender, ridged with faint bruises.
A memory sprang; air stolen, hands clutching.
A cold shiver ran through as her breath hitched.
It was as if a phantom of touch still lingered.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Her eyes darted: stone walls, dripping water, the pale light of a cave.
It wasn't the castle.
It wasn't her chamber.
The echo of what happened....
It came.
Her eyes were wide, as she stared into a darkness, the faint sounds of wind overhead.
Then she saw him, through hazy vision.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
It was the silhouette of a person, slouched against stone.
Silent.
Still.
A blade shining across his lap.
Her chest sprang, as she jerked further away, a slither of fear tearing at her throat.
"...Haaa"
She stared from a distance with ragged breaths, the person didn't move, but she could see the whites of his eyes.
The breaths came uneven, fogging cold air.
The person didn't move.
Didn't speak.
It didn't take long for the haze in her eyes to mist away.
It became more clear.
The silhouette was young.
Around her age it seemed.
Dark hair, with whites of snow littered.
Hands streaked in dried blood.
Lips darkened due to frost.
Grey eyes that seemed to lighten the caves darkness.
A sword resting across his lap, more clear. The edge dull with red.
Her chest rose sharply...until the cave's faint glow spilled across his face.
A tired face.
One that looked like it carried something far heavier than a boy his age should.
She just stared.
Unblinking with a sapphire gaze.
The boy didn't move.
Not until a cough broke his throat.
Cough!
One that dragged his shoulders forward.
His dark lips parted:
"...You're safe."
A hoarse voice, the words dragging through ice.
Her chest heaved, words sneaking out.
"What... what happened? Where... where are we?"
His eyes met her.
wooooh!
Tired, rimmed red, shaky.
"Away."
"....Away? Away, where?! Where is my father? What happened to the castle?!"
A torrent of questions.
Her hands trembled, as she ripped through the cold air, pleading for answers.
Riven didn't move at first.
He was silent apart from a rise in ragged breaths.
Slowly his hands clenched....then unclenched, before he rasped--
"You're safe. That's all that matters now."
It didn't soothe her, not fully.
Her breath still shuddered, suspicion flickering in her gaze.
That crimson colour....
'....Where did it come from?'
But something in his tone--
raw and unpolished. It kept her from breaking entirely.
The silence that followed was fragile, uneasy but it held.
For a moment, the cave was only their breaths, uneven but shared.
Silence stretched.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The drips.
The faint howls.
It invaded her senses.
It was cold.
Why was it so cold?
'Where am I...?'
She rose slowly, her legs unsteady.
She edged toward the mouth of the cave.
"Don't." His voice snapped sharp, firmer than before.
But the light drew her forward.
She stepped into the white glow.
WOOOOHHH!!
The wind cut through, flinging her hair to all sides.
Her breath caught, fogging the cold air.
It was pure white.
A scene of nothing and everything.
Fog that obscured vision.
Snow that pulled steps.
Only one place held this view.
A place void of of warmth.
A place void of colour.
Of life.
Of mercy.
"....Frostveil." the words slipped from her lips, hoarse, haunted.
WOOOOHHH!
The wind howled in response.
Riven's head snapped up.
The grip on Mael's Fang tightened.
The name fell like frost itself; silent, but heavy.
And in that single word, the cave felt colder than outside.