The Huntress Descent

The Storm: Chapter Eight

My head hurt too much. My body hurt too much. It seemed that everything hurt too much. Slowly, the sense started to send reports back to my brain. There were bruises and cuts and scrapes and maybe some breaks. I kept my eyes closed, not because I didn't want to see where I was, but I thought it would hurt too much to open them.

I tried to move my arm an inch, but the moment the thought even crossed my mind, pain seared through like a molten fire, burying itself deep into my chest. I bite down, my face cringing through the pain. White flashing across my eyes, sending my head into a dizzy spin of nausea. Needles. It felt lie a thousand needles had been jammed into every fibre of my existence. There was nowhere to retreat from this. Each of breath felt like swallowing broken glass. The last just as painful as the first. I was trapped in an ever-ending cycle of agony. The pain was overwhelming to the point if screaming was an option, I would have done just that.

But worse than that was the growing panic – panic that I had been left behind to die.

I forced my eyes open, biting down as the light flooded in. At first, blinding whiteness pierced every nerve ending and searing the connection to my brain. Gradually (and I mean gradually) it dulled to reveal the multitude of colours. Orange and gold greeted me with soft strikes brushed against the skyline. The sky ablaze with the fire of the setting sun. Long dark shadows cast themselves along the ground, covering me in darkness but setting the tips of the rock face ablaze in the golden brilliance. I could see why they called this the golden hour.

You don't know what the golden hour is.

I do now.

A light tap to my face drew me away from the wonder of the sky. The soft bristles on the branches of the yellow flowered plant swayed in the light breeze that had settled in the valley. They were the same ones that I walked through earlier that day.

Earlier that day...

Was it the same day. It felt like the same day. There was nothing to indicate that it wasn't. But how would have I have known that. Days could have passed. I could have missed it. Abandoned. Alone...

Stop. Breathe. Think.

Stop ... ... ... Breathe ... ... ... Think.

Stop ... ... Breathe ... Think.

I shoved the spiral of thoughts away. That was something I didn't need right now. There were no answers to my questions. What there was was a self-fulfilling destiny if I spent any more time wallowing in the realm of despair. Carrying on was the only way I could continue. No matter how much I hurt. I still had a claim to the cure. I had every intention of gaining it.

Initiating the first part of my plan was the worst part. When I lifted my head, pain bolted down my nape. My eyes screwed together. Through a dense headache, I coached myself to rise and push back the pain. As I tried to get to my knees, something deep inside me cracked. Pain thumped through my bones and bruises. With a sharp intake of breath, I stopped, my faze glazed with cold sweat. When I laid out my hands to steady myself, dried blood lingered in their wake. I dared not think what I actually looked like.

I took a deep breath to soothe the stabbing aches. A sharp pain in my chest, on the right side, erupted when I took it. I coughed. The discomfort growing inside my own body. A low whimper escaped my lips. Something wasn't right. Something felt very broken.

You need to keep moving.

I gritted my teeth together, swallowed back the bile that formed, ignored the pain and straightened myself until I stood upright. Every jostle that I made sent ripples of pain through my shoulder, back and neck. I wiped away a tear from the corner of my eye. It involuntarily escaping.