Insanity Isle (Lyzan, Lillian Thorne, Tirgesfu)

[Lyzan]

Redbeard rushed forward and grabbed the man's arm as Jaymz spilled his breakfast and proabably last night's dinner onto the floor. The old man thin but oddly strong fingers gripped Jaymz arm as he supported his weight. Slowly bringing him up onto his feet and guiding him into the next room then. He set the young warrior down on the bed and retrieved a mug of water for Jaymz to drink. With a sharp bark towards one of the helpers, he summoned for the healer.

Just then, Saidah appeared in the doorway. She offered help. For a moment, Redbeard simply looked at her. More wrinkles formed over his forehead as he studied the woman. She'd been watching the match, he thought. How else would she know if Jaymz needed medical attention.

"The shelve over there... get the jars of herbs, some clean cloth and a bowl of water.. We need to stop the bleeding as best we can before the healer gets here.." croaked the old man to Saidah. "You did well out there, son." said Redbeard to Jaymz. "You did really well. Now, calm yourself down. Breath deep and try to relax. You'll get used to it eventually.. I'll give you some good wine for you tonight. Make sure you drink to the fullest or else you won't be able to go to sleep.." he paused. "Unless if you prefer to take it the hard way.. Your choice.. But you have to get some rest.."

His head then turned towards Saidah; "I suggest you do the same.."

He wasn't proud to recommend such things to the warriors but he'd understood what they're going through too well and was just unable to see them suffer during the long cold night. Sleepless and most probably depressed from the sight they'd witnessed. They will need some time of getting used to, with the gore.

"Attend to him as best you can, Saidah.." instructed Redbeard as he took a seat over the edge of the bed right next to where Jaymz was sitting. "Tell me, Jaymz. What is it that went through your mind during that bout?" the old man asked.

[tirgesfu]

It was Redbread’s tone of voice and the kindness in his words as well as just the sight of Saidah that let the dreaded tension of his feeling of loss slip away. Tiredness and tingles of pain overtook any other emotion. He didn’t feel his wounds, any of them just yet. He just felt as if his energy was bleeding out his feet. He wanted to close his eyes and lay down on the bench.

But Jaymz didn’t want to fall asleep there. Not in the room next to the arena. Not with the next fight beginning soon and the next man crawling in here with his own cuts and broken bones. Instead he just put his head in his hands as if he needed the support to hold it up. He kept his eyes hidden inside the palms of his own fingers.

Jaymz began to speak answering Redbread. “My will to live causes me to lose parts that make me the man I want to be. I was not ready to die. Not at the claws of a beast. It will be a man’s eyes I see when mine fall shut.” He was not sure he could explain killing an animal does not hold the same for him as killing a man. It had nothing to do with which Jaymz felt was better or more advanced. It was more about killing your own kind, your family, your pack. Jaymz snorted slightly at his own thoughts. Look around this place you simpleton. Your own kind eats each other for entertainment. Not mine. These are not mine. Jaymz shook his head realizing everything he believed holds little value here.

“I do not want to be their champion.” He lowered his fingers from his face and looked to Redbread with a bit of strength finally finding its way into his eyes. “But I do not want to die for them either.”

[Lillian Thorne]

She had never been the one to tend to the wounded, though she had learned to prepare the herbs in the still room so she was vaguely aware of their properties. She simply nodded at Redbeard and moved to the row of jars. With shaking hands she lifted one at a time sniffing at their contents. They were mostly blends which was probably best for such brutal healing needs but it made it harder for her unpracticed nose to discern a purpose. Finally she found a jar with a sweet floral scent that she recognized: Agrimony. Used to celebrate the Mother’s bleeding and useful to control bleeding in her children. She remembered wreathing her statue in the tall shoots of yellow blooms at the moon festivals. Peering into the jar she spotted the orange slivers of petals that spoke of calendula and knew that even if this mix weren’t intended for this purpose it would serve. She poured some into a nearby mortar and then poured some of heated water over it. She quickly mashed the whole lot into a paste. It wasn’t fine enough to satisfy the priestesses but she knew time was of the essence. Gathering up a stack of bandages and a bowl of clean water she hurried to Jaymz’s side.

She brushed her curtain of dark hair over her shoulder and set to work. She quickly cleaned the worst of the cuts, getting out any debris she could see, using copious amounts of water rather than going digging as she didn’t trust her hands. The floor around the cot where he lay was awash with pink tinted water in which floated clots of darker stuff. She didn’t look down, didn’t think about how people could watch beings do this to each other and think it was entertaining. Her black eyes glittered with unshed tears but she kept her face still, like the statues of the mother that had once offered her comfort. Once she was certain she had cleaned as best she might she began to apply the poultices to the wounds, carefully packing the wounds with herbs and tying them closed with the bandages. Some would need stitching but she would leave that to the healers.

As she worked she listened to the men speak, hating the situation they were in. She could hear the kind of man Jaymz was and heard the struggle to remain so in his voice. She saw Redbeard and in his compassion heard the man he used to be, much of which seemed to be lost over time spent in this place. She hoped she died before she got so hardened.

Her hands, still soft from her temple life, found one of Jaymz’ and she dared to twine her fingers with his and give a gentle squeeze. She didn’t say how she ached for him because to give words to what she felt would lessen his pain, his suffering so she held her tongue and spoke only face and not the emotions that threatened to drown her.

“I have done what I can here. You will need to see someone skilled with a needle.”

[Lyzan]

"It is not wise to think about death while you're in a battlefield.. Same goes to here, Jaymz. The day you were captured and brought here on that ship, you're already a dead man. We have no control over how or when we will die, Jaymz. But when the time comes, we go whether we're ready for it or not. It is those images that flashed over our eyes before the final breath is drawn that tells us if we're ready. You would want to see the good things you've done in this life so you could go peacefully..." Redbeard paused and patted on the man's knee before he resumed. "Your mind is clouded, Jaymz. Your ears are distracted by the cheerings and jeerings of those spectators. Your eyes are blinded by their faces for bloodlust. You're disgusted by them. By their intentions. Your heart seemed to be within their grip. You see them before anything else and that, my friend, is a huge mistake that's been draining your strength and concentration."

Redbeard then stood and raised a hand gesturing to the woman before him as he turned to face the man. Palm facing to Jaymz as he said; "You failed to look at those behind you. Those who prayed for you. Those who wouldn't want harm get you." Then he continued raising that arm and gestured to the door where the rest of the warriors praticed, dined and rested. "You've forgotten about them. Their dreams. Their hopes." Redbeard paused and held Jaymz's eyes. "It is not to those out there.." he pointed to the arena. "..that you'll be a champion to.. But it is to them.." Redbeard returned the gesture to the door. "When the day you fall, it'll be a sacrifice you made to protect them the best you can. To hell what they think of you. Let them take you however they wished. As long as you keep your own belief close at heart, they can never take away what belongs to you."

The door where Redbeard had gestured to then opened. In came an old hunched-back woman with one of the room's attendants by her side. Aiding the frail looking croon into the room by the elbow. Her pale, wrinkled and dry skin seemed to shed a thin layer of skin. Like a serpent would. She held in one hand a short-staff, just the perfect size for her height. A crooked beak of a nose between tiny beads of dark eyes. Strands of white hairs like a distrubed cobweb hung dearly over an almost smooth scalp. Redbeard lowered both his arms and his head as the woman approached him.

"What did he loose? A leg? An arm?" she squawked.

"He's whole, Areena.. Just bitemarks from a druid."

"Just bitemarks, eh?" she scowled before making her way to Jaymz.

Her staff tapped on the floorboard as she neared Jaymz and deliberately knocked against Saidah shin as she neared.

"Move over, child;" she grunted. "Hmm.." her tone then changed as she studied the paste over the man's wound. "Did you do this? You've got a healer's touch, child. Old man.. I want her to come to my quarters three nights a week.. I could use a hand healing this wounded men and women after a match.."

"Yes Areena.."

With that said, the old woman shut her eyes and reached her hand out towards Jaymz's wounds. Hovering over it mere inches away. Her lips then moved carrying soft hisses as she mumbled an enchantment. From her palm, lights emitted, shining upon the cuts. A tingling sensation as well as some tugging should be felt under Jaymz's flesh. From his body, myriads of tiny lights wafted like fireflies appearing out of the man. Sparkling and bright. Bones began reconstructing itself. Mending the fractured back to health. Sinews and puntured nerves rejoined together. Slowly, the wound closed. What Saidah have done have indeed aided the healing process. Areena had simply quickened the natural healing process of Jaymz immune system as well as the properties of those leaves. She panted then when it was over.

"He.... he needed rest.. He'll be ready ...in a couple of days.. You best see to it ...that he's not in another fight before then, old man.." that said, Areena started to move back towards the door.

"If there's nothing else you two need of me, you may go.." said Redbeard to both Jaymz and Saidah.

[tirgesfu]

Jaymz tired to listen beyond the words Redbread spoke. He was dazed and confused. Those behind him? Who was behind him? He could not understand what it was the man was trying to tell him. He was shocked to think that others in his camp or circle of rooms cared if he succeeded or not. Why would they? Were they not destined to raise their blades against each other? Maybe he had things wrong. He felt the concerned touch of Saidah. He did not understand why she was there. But when she put her fingers around his he held them. He squeezed them for a few second as if hanging on to something good in all this darkness. Even that confused him. He wanted to hold those soft fingers and yet he wished her to be far away.

In his heart he knew that Redbread offered his words carefully and thoughtfully. But wasn’t it his job to just throw men into the ring for the next beast’s meat? Why would he care what motivated Jaymz. But the words that sank true into Jaymz for reason other than the battles inside a ring were the part of him he knew he was losing. He heard the wisdom. As long as you keep your own belief close at heart, they can never take away what belongs to you. Yes, yes, that was all Jaymz had. That was all he ever had. He sat through the voyage in chains knowing that his heart and soul would never be theirs. That was true. He could keep that from them. But there is no denying, as Jaymz sat in his broken pain, that his belief in himself was fading. He was tool. Used over and over he was beginning to forget his own worth.

All this was almost too much right now. When the healing touch hit him it warmed more than his cuts and bites. He felt the heat like a ray of sunshine. As battered as his heart and soul was he took quick hold of that and soaked in the warmth. He reached for it, the light, and in his even breathing and need for the warmth he encouraged his body to stretch and pull, heal and mend.

Jaymz opened his eyes quickly before the woman Areena left. He wished to thank her. But he couldn’t find the voice to tell her so. Instead he just reached for her and placed his hand on her rounded shoulder with a tender gently touch. He pressed lightly, like a soft pulse given to a loving elder. Then quickly he pulled his hand back. He was not sure how the old woman would judge his gesture.

He stood when Redbread dismissed them all, Areen, Saidha and himself. He took his time finding his legs and moving his arms as if stiff before he stood at the door and opened it for both the woman. He walked out of the room checking over himself in his mind, flexing one muscle and then the next. Waiting until the old healer was away from them he turned slightly to Saidha and asked, “Why were you there?”

[Lillian Thorne]

Saidah hissed in pain as the old woman’s staff hit her shin. It wasn’t a large pain but it smarted and the callous way it was delivered seemed overly cruel and mean to her. She stepped aside and wanted to hate the woman even when she complimented her work. Her face tightened at the authoritative way the crone commanded her life, demanding three nights. There was so much of her life that she had no say over that she wanted to be sullen and refuse. But then the woman began her work and Saidah’s protest died before it was even given life.

She watched, fascinated, her black eyes wide as the woman ran her hands over Jaymz’ wounds and they were made whole again. Flesh that had been parted was mended, swelling that had been intense subsided. Even the color on the bruising, blood trapped just below the surface of the skin, diffused. It was incredible and for a second Saidah felt the presence of the goddess in the room. But that wasn’t the case, it couldn’t be since there was no goddess and she certainly wasn’t channeled through the hands of a stooped, bald, toothless old crone with a heavy hand on her walking stick. But she could not deny the sight before her or the feel of power that danced across her skin as she watched.

It affected the woman, whatever it is she had done and Saidah thought about one of the lessons the priestesses had tried to teach her, that nothing came without cost. She believed it then more than at any other time as she watched the old woman hobble away. She wondered than, where the energy, the life she had given Jaymz flesh had come from. Was it her own? Was she as old as she looked? Panic filled Saidah as her unfortunate and not often witnessed vanity came to the fore. Her hand went to her hair, hers black , thick and glossy and pictured the crone’s pale scalp and shuddered. She felt foolish then, because she didn’t know a great many things about what she had witnessed the least of which was its cost.

She dropped her head at Redbeard’s dismissal and began to walk out of the room. Jaymz opened the door for her and she looked up at him, the last of her foolish panic leaving her black eyes as he asked her his question.

Why had she been there? Why had she made herself watch such a battle? She didn’t know precisely though words bubbled below the surface, words stirred up by the little pot boy and then seasoned with the spice of Redbeard’s words and at the heart of them was the meat of the matter, she held his name. She didn’t have the artifice then to make them pretty those confused and tangled words, so she simply opened her mouth and let them come as they would.

“I came because someone who wasn’t enjoying the fight needed to see, someone not aroused by the blood and pain. I came because that could have been me, will be me someday and I would like to think that someone will witness my end and not cheer for it. I watched because hearing about it would have been worse. I watched because I hold your name and you hold mine and that is as much a connection as any I have here. Do you remember giving it to me? Do you remember what you said when you did? I watched so I could remind you when you were done, that you are who you are.”

[tirgesfu]

At the door the eyes and voice of Saidah made him stop. His wounds healed and warmth had found its way into his muscles. But the hands of the old healers did little to his beaten soul compared to the fast words of Saidah. They came so quick and so rapid full of wisdom Jaymz had to hold his breath. They comforted him and yet sent fear through his heart.

She would remember his name. She would help him keep a part of himself through all of this. But is that the thread that will tie him to the madness? If he cared for no one, not her, not Redbread, not Aaron, then whatever happened would be numb, dull and not laced with pain. He could fight. He could die. It would not matter. But if what Redbread had said was true that he was fighting for those behind him those like Saidah, everything changed.

She had let her tongue roll and her words flow. Jamyz knew she did not do that often. So he offered back what he could. “I find it hard to know what to say. You have my name and I want you here. I want to help you. Yet, I want you as far away as possible. In this maddening pain I would welcome your warmth and yet to do so would only add more layers of agony. You can not care about me and I would be a fool at this stage to imagine any other way than cold distance.”

He nudged her through the door and closed it behind them. “They beat your spirit over and over until you have nothing left. Then as if placing a crumb in front of you they show you a possibility of concern and compassion. That is what breaks you.” His eyes looked to hers with a longing he knew he would not show her again. But for a second he reached to her hair and touched the ends. Then he spun around and left her He walked quickly through the yard to the hole in the wall that was now his room.

[Lillian Thorne]

Saidah felt as if she had been slapped. Jaymz words, his concerns his look all felt like a physical blow to her. She understood the danger he spoke of and despite knowing about it, she had weakened and fallen for it. Between Pots and Jaymz and his quiet dignity she had opened herself up for a world of hurt. For a long moment she stood as if stunned in the doorway of the infirmary, her black eyes blinking as if stunned from the light. Then without warning, no discernible tensing of muscles or shifting of stance she moved. Her steps were silent and quick as she crossed the courtyard past people practicing, dodging bouts and people watching and then slipped into the quiet cool of her room/ prison.

She leaned against the door feeling weak and tired as her eyes began to fill. Her belly which had been a quiet knot of pain rumbled and tightened. She moved to the wash basin and drank deeply from the pitcher, her belly filling with the water and staving off her need to decide anything for a little while longer. She wasn’t certain what she was supposed to be doing but figured that if anyone needed her, she was easy enough to find.

She took off her armor and stripped down to nothing but a shift and settled onto the hard and narrow cot. For a long time she stared at the ceiling as images of the things she wanted most unseen flashed through her mind. The sight of entrails in the sand, the faces of the people slowly starving in the cages that led here, the image Jaymz being wounded by that bear that became a man and the maddened crowd who lived to see such bloodshed. Slowly her eyes drifted shut and she slept but her dreams were haunted by such similar sights.

[tirgesfu]

Jaymz sat on his bed feeling the world around him spin. He laid down. For a time he closed his eyes but all he could see was her hurt face. As soon as her eyes looked too real to him he sat up and rubbed his own. He didn’t want to see her. Why was she inside his head?

He believed the only reason she even noticed him was because they were forced together. Mistakenly he had asked her to remember him. It would be best if she forgot. It would be best if he would. But he knew he would not. Even so, he could pretend. It was better now to feel the sting of her disappointed face than to touch it, to feel it, to kiss it, and then have it all taken away.

What end could there be in this place? She would be ripped apart and he would not have the will to go on. Or he would fall under then blade of some fighter and leave her in more pain than she needed. Maybe. Maybe.

In his tired mind he couldn’t help but imagine the touch of her. Would it be so bad to have a small ray of light in such a black dark place? It could be the comfort of her would be the one spark of something good in this bitter end.
Jaymz shut his eyes and fell back down. He had come this far, lived through it all because he had kept everything away. He flexed his own muscle to keep his mind focused and closed. He had managed to survive feeling almost nothing. Then in the worst place of all, in the bottom of the hardship, he stumbled upon a few who tugged at his feelings.

Suddenly Jaymz jumped from his bed. His mind was filling him was unrest. He left his tiny room and walked out into the commons. Taking a quick hold of a few pieces of bread and a tankard of water he went to Saidah’s door. Standing there he closed his eyes and tired to find the muscles in his arm that would allow him to knock. He contracted his shoulder muscles and then released like taking a long overdue breath of fresh air. But he still could not bring himself to place his knuckles on the closed door.

With a sign he placed the small tray down on the ground in front of her door. With the taste of much failure, in the battle, in the entertainment the crowd found, in his inability to understand Redbread’s words and his unwanted feelings for Saidah, Jaymz turned and left.

[Lyzan]

The next morning started off almost similar to the one prior. Blowhorn sounded to summon both unfortunate men and women who're fated to be here. Sandals crunching over the sandy courtyard as the fighters rushed to assemble in rows. Redbeard already standing before them. His wrinkled face serious and filled with a determination to better those gathered. To him, the cycle of life and death began anew, just like the repitition of night and day. As frequent and as inevitable. A life would be taken away again today. And he'd no idea whom it would be.

"Today, after your meal and a few moment of rest, you'll start with an intense sparring session right here in the courtyard. Areena has already been informed about today's activity and you can imagine just how unhappy that woman is with me.. But this is necessary! I expect it to be taken seriously. Give it your all and your best as if your life depends on it! Keep one thing in mind! Without such practise, you can never be better! Without practise, death would come before freedom!" the old man then paused as he studied the faces before him. "Aaron, you'll be sitting out on this one. Today my friend, you need to be at full strength.." there was no need to say anything more than what was mentioned. "The rest of you would wait by the corridors until I call for your name. Treat the courtyard as the battleground," said Redbeard before his attention shifted to the first pair. "Saidah, you're to choose any weapon -wooden- you're most comfortable with and shall be the first to enter the ring.. Followed by.. Jaymz.. You'll have to do the same.. Choose a weapon of your choice and then step into the battleground after Saidah.. You may begin whenever you're ready and I expect an all out performance from you two!"