A trail of footprints in the sand showed Ensarrian’s path, also accompanied by droplets of blood that soaked the shifty surface. He walked along the foreign shores at a slow pace, his right arm limp at his side with blood dripping from his fingertips. At his elbow was an ugly gash with his tender inner flesh exposed to the evening air. But the worst part was the bit of bone that peeked out of the wound, broken and deforming the joint. Above the wound on his bicep was a self made tourniquet: a tattered piece of cloth torn from his tunic and wrapped tightly to help stop the bleeding. At least a little.

His arm was already in such a terrible state when he had awoken on the beach, so he was unsure of how he’d obtained it. It had been the pain that brought him back to consciousness, the severity drawing a scream from him that left his lungs free from any air. Now the pain had caused all feeling in his arm to numb. He knew that wasn’t a good sign. His only option was to find civilization and hope they were welcoming people. If he could transform into a dragon then searching would be far easier with a view from the sky. However, fortune was not on his side. His arms become his wings, and with the one arm injured, he could not fly.

And so he walked and walked, eyes half closed from exhaustion and skin pale from blood loss. There was no need to worry for the others, for he could feel through their connection that they were alright. Well, at least alive. A ghostly ache in his chest told him that Kohaku too was in pain for some unknown reason, but Ensarrian could only worry about himself for now. He didn’t know where the fox was, and even if he did he was in no condition to help. What could he do when he has one good arm and his body was so weak it’s about to pass out again?

He stopped walking suddenly, glancing to the side where the sea was now calm. The sky was a pallet of orange and pink as the sun set over the horizon, its reflection rippling and dancing on the water. The dragon was far too tired to go any further, his arm now aching despite the numbness. It throbbed dully. He was beginning to wish for his arm to come completely off if it would save him from pain that would certainly come later. He couldn’t keep the tourniquet on forever; his arm needed to breath, if he wishes to keep it. With a heavy, weary sigh he stumbled to a piece of driftwood and collapsed. The one good hand dug into the sand as he pulled himself closer, then set himself into a sitting position with his back to the wood. His head hung low, eyes drifting closed as he once again lost consciousness.

Now that Raziel was here, she had to find a way off the continent and head back home. Problem was, not many here were stranger friendly, so receiving aid was difficult. Somehow, she managed to find the ocean, the sound, and salty air big giveaways. By the scent, she could tell that there was a major storm recently. Instinct told her that she faced east-ish, but she had no idea where Canalux was in comparison to Onnen.

As she was on the beach, Raziel put her shoes away to feel the warm sand between her toes. It did not feel normal, however, but like smooth pebbles of all sizes. The angel wondered what the beach looked like, wishing she had someone to describe things for her. It made her miss her little vampire friend.

For now, she had Azula to keep her company, a snowy owl that had stayed by her since Sidhiel. It took a lot of time, but Raziel began to learn the differences of each sound from her. So when Azula gave a concerned hoot, Raziel cocked her head thoughtfully. ”Azula? What’s wrong?” Following the bird’s cues, the angel practically stumbled upon someone quite literally. By the feel of her walking staff bumping into something soft allowed her to avoid kicking or tripping over them. Oh, excuse me.” The answering sound was much lower than she had first anticipated.

Raziel kneeled down and carefully reached out, finding a leg. Carefully, she moved her hands upwards, noting the salt crusted clothing. With the lightest of touches, the angel cupped his cheeks, a frown furrowing her brow. He felt… hurt. ”Sir? I’m a healer, let me help you.” She continued her tender search, finding only that his arm was injured. The angel winced when she felt the jagged protruding bone. ”Before I can set this, I have to push it back into place. It’s not going to be easy. Are you ready?”

Even though he felt he probably shouldn’t, Ensarrian welcomed the sleep. He allowed the cool evening breeze and the soft sound of the waves to lull him. He only managed to sleep for a little while, or so it seemed, before he finally woke. Small hands touched his leg and followed it up to his toros, then went further up and cupped his cheeks. The voice of a young girl quickly followed, and it was then that Ensarrian allowed his eyes to open just enough to see the girl. Long, lavender hair cascaded down her back to her hips while large steel eyes looked upon him. Though she didn’t look familiar to him, he didn’t question her. Instead he let his eyes drift shut once more.

But her hands were distracting. They proceeded to touch him as if she were searching for something, his mind too dazed to pay attention to anything she said to him. All he could think about was getting more sleep. Until she touched something she shouldn’t have. His body jerked and stiffened when her hands found his wound, his mouth gaping in a gasp. His eyes shot open, the pain finally waking him up. Only then did he realize what she had been telling him, and what she planned to do. Looking down at his arm, he groaned to see that it was losing its color. His tourniquet had been on for far too long. The flesh would die if it didn’t get any blood.

Ensarrian took a deep breath, knowing full well that the numbness would ebb the moment the cloth is removed and the worst of the pain would return. The blood flow would start again as well. But if this girl was a healer as she said, then keeping his arm alive and attached to his body was most important by now. Reluctantly, he untied the cloth and removed the tourniquet. It took several lengthy moments, but the coldness in his arm started to vanish. Tingling soon followed as his blood rushed back into the limb, much like the feeling when a leg falls asleep for a while. And then the pain hit him. Sharp like daggers stabbing him all over his arm, the inner flesh that had been left exposed stinging from the cool air touching it. He let out a long, painful groan and threw his head back against the driftwood. Already his warm blood was flowing from his wound again, running down his arm until it felt completely covered, the sand soaking up what would have made a pool.

“Alright,” he finally replied, arm trembling. “I don’t care what you have to do. Just get it over with.”

She wasn't sure why, but relief flooded through her as he jerked beneath her touch. He didn't scream, later groaned as she waited for his response. Even if he did not give her consent, Raziel was tempted to save his limb regardless. Finally, she received her answer. ”Right.” Several items were withdrawn from her endless bag. Bandages, a knife, and her medical kit. The bandages were put in his lap for easy access, the kit opened and placed next to her. The knife was used to cut his shirt sleeve off above the wound.

”Alright, I am going to pop it back. On the count of three.” One hand gently cupped the back of his arm for support, the other grabbed a bandage, folded it and poised it before the protrusion. She took a deep breath. ”One.” Raziel did not wait for the count, catching her patient offguard to prevent tensing and further damage. She pressed against his bone, swift and sure, clenching her own teeth in sympathy. The angel continued the application of pressure, begging him to hold still on a soothing and encouraging voice.

After she mentally counted sufficient time away. Raziel was pleased that the flow of blood nearly ceased when she moved the cloth away. ”Two.” The angel opened her canteen of fresh water and cleaned his wound. Her needle was threaded from the medical kit, and her fingers moved deftly. One hand held his skin together, the other skillfully moved the needle through his skin. Not too deep, just enough to stitch the layers of skin together. ”Three.”

The problem with bandages was the strength one used. If it was too loose, the bandage is ineffective. Too tight, and the circulation was cut off and could result in loss of limb. It had to be just right to keep the wound safe, clean, and promote healthy healing. Even in bandaging, Raziel's hands were precise in their movements. ”There! All done. Wasn't too bad, was it?” She rocked back on her feet as she smiled at what she hoped was the location of his face. Raziel then pulled a blanket out of her bag and covered him up. Blood loss typically meant colder temperatures, which was not good for healing. She even offered her canteen for him to drink. ”What happened?” Raziel asked curiously.

She took her time preparing to handle his wound, pulling out supplies. His head tilted, flaming eyes examining everything she pulled from her bag until he found himself examining her. It was only then that he noticed her wings. Was she an angel? A quick image of another angel flashed in his mine, the one he’d met in the mines when Nelanna became his Master. But this one was far different. Her size was so small he wondered if she was actually a child, yet at the same time she had a mature look to her. Perhaps it was the wisdom in her eyes, the certainty on her face. Wait…there was something odd about her. He narrowed his eyes, watching her every move carefully, mind reeling.

Before he could figure it out, she spoke again. The moment she mentioned a countdown he took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as he prepared himself for more pain. His arm was already hurting something awful, but he could only imagine having a broken bone set back in place, then an open wound being tampered with. Well, he wouldn’t have to imagine it anymore. He yelped from surprise as his bone suddenly was pushed on, the rest of his body jumping. “What the heck!” He snarled through clenched teeth, groaning painfully soon after. Yet, her voice was soft and comforting, asking him to keep still while the bone was being placed. He shut his eyes as tightly as he could, letting his head drop back against the driftwood while his other hand covered his mouth. He wanted to scream, but bit his tongue.

Finally, the bone was in place. He released a slow, shaky breath, letting his head raise to look back at the angel. She continued counting, opened a canteen and poured the water over his wound. Ensarrian winced at the cold on his tender flesh, excess blood washing down the limb and rinsing away what had dried. Then came the needle. He furrowed his brow with a moan of disapproval, turning his face away. When the sharp pain began he knew the needle pierced his skin. It wasn’t as intense as other pains he’s experienced, which made it more bearable. And soon enough it was over with, the sharpness replaced with something soft. He looked back at the working angel as she bandaged his arm, chuckling dryly at her words once she finished. “Well, I suppose it wasn’t as bad as other things I was forced to endure,” he replied.

The next thing he knew she was taking a blanket from her bag then laying it over him. It was only then that he’d realized how cold blood loss had made him. He watched the angel through intense eyes, shuffling himself to be more comfortable. But the task was more difficult without the use of his other arm. “There were four of us on a ship when a storm suddenly brewed. Apparently the ship was too old to handle it, and fell apart when it was hit by a big wave. It seems we were all separated, but how I got this wound exactly…” He paused, thinking over what happened after the ship was torn apart. But the memory was blurred. Perhaps he’d hit his head on some rocks, knocking him unconscious and making his memories unclear. He shook his head, “I don’t recall.”

He was strong, and it amazed her. Not once did he scream out, beyond the first yelp of surprise at her. Yet, she did not think his laughter was jovial, more like dark humor found in irony. Raziel listened to his story of the storm and being separated from three companions, which seemed to coincide with the scent of the past storm. It was so easy to fill in the blanks, to see the winds ravage the ship, the boat breaking and slipping beneath the waves. People trying to stay afloat, to get the much-needed breath of air. "Poor things…"

Still, she smiled kindly as she lifted the blanket closer to his chin. "Here's what we'll do. Either you rest for a bit, now, or we move you away from the water." When he opted for a little rest first, she nodded almost knowingly. "Very well. Oh! I forgot to make you a sling. Got to keep you from moving that arm of yours too much." Within moments, Raziel had a large piece of cloth from her bag and was carefully positioning his arm. The cloth cupped his elbow and she leaned in and reached around either side of his neck to tie the sling, unaware of how close her lips were to his cheek. Afterward, she tucked the blanket around him again.

"Azula will keep an eye on the tide for us. Oh, and I'm Raziel." She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her knee supporting her chin. "After you rest, perhaps we can help each other. Help you find your friends and me a way back home. My father isn't on this island, never was. I think I boarded the wrong ship." Azula spread her wings as she walked toward the angel and rubbed her head against Raziel's hand. A smile spread across the somewhat depressed expression as she began to run her fingers through those soft feathers.

Silence fell between the two, but only for a moment. The angel tugged at the blanket with a soft smile while Ensarrian studied her. Something was definitely off with her, but he couldn’t quite pin it down. It was beginning to bug him. She spoke once more, her sweet voice breaking their silence, and he offered a swift answer. There was no way he was going to move, not yet. He was still faint and unsteady from blood loss. He would rather stay where he is until he was confident he could walk a good ways without falling again. Suddenly she remembered something, snapping him out of his thoughts.

With an impatient huff he pulled his arm out from under the blanket, wincing at the movement. He was silent as she began making the sling, eyes still watching her carefully. She then leaned in to wrap the sling around him, his eyes widening slightly with a thump from his heart. So was so close he could feel her breath, her lips almost brushing his cheek, which he could feel growing hotter. His body was so stiff it was frozen, yet his mind was swarming with thoughts. Why was he feeling this way? It’s not like he hasn’t been that close to a girl before. Images of Isedora came to his mind to shake his weird feelings away, allowing him to force himself to relax when the angel finally moved away.

He still watched her with narrowed eyes as she pulled the blanket back up and introduced herself. “I’m Ensarrian…but you can call me Ian if it’s easier,” he replied with a light nod of greeting. She sat next to him and made an offer to help each other, her familiar -or so he assumed- approaching the angel and offering her comfort. He thought for a moment, looking back out to the sea with a big yawn. Through their connection, he could tell that Kohaku was much further away from him than Nelanna is, so looking for her first would be their best bet. She was in pain, and he wanted to help her. By now Kohaku’s pain had mostly lifted, so he was sure the fox was alright for the time being. Besides, he’s extremely smart. He could find them on his own.

Ensarrian, however, was not as skilled at finding his way around with the use of flight, so having some help would surely be better for him. With a thoughtful hum, he looked back at Raziel to give her an answer, “Alright, that sounds fair to me. I can feel the presence of one of my companions nearby, so we can look for them first. Once we find her I am certain she will be more than willing to help search for your father.” Then, it was that look in her eyes that gave him an idea. They were distant, glazed over, they just weren’t the common color for blindness and had more…feeling in them. That’s what threw him off. Thought about asking her if it was true, or if her eyes just looked that way, but he refrained from it. He knew he was right. She used her hands to guide her instead of her eyes. Who else would do that if they were not blind?

Ensarrian introduced himself, which she tested the name on her tongue. "That's a strong name, Ensarrian." She could hear his yawn, keeping her senses tuned to him for now. It was somewhat difficult with the peaceful waves hitting the beach so close. "I would appreciate any help I can get." Raziel did not press any further questions upon her patient, instead began to put her excess bandages and medical kit away. Talking would just keep him from resting, and most beings healed best in their sleep. The silence did not feel awkward, at least to her. It was always nice to feel the presence of a sentient being with whom she could communicate. Even if they weren't talking.

As she sat there, listening to the water, Raziel began to think of her mother. She remembered her mother describing the beach. "Sand stretches as far as the eye can see, coarse and invasive. But the best part is the ocean. It swallows the horizon, claiming it as its own. The water is in constant motion, trying to engulf the land. Wave after wave it throws at land, trying to bring it back under the surface. I wish to take you there one day, my little angel." Raziel noted that Ensarrian was breathing deep and steady, a sound of being completely at rest. Carefully, she removed her shoes and stood, leaving her walking stick by him as she made her way from around him.

Finding the water was the easy part, as the sand became moister, and soon the water itself reached out to touch her feet. Farther she walked until her ankles were completely submerged, and there she stood, thinking of her mother. How she wished the woman was here with her, enjoying the feel and sounds. Elithia would describe what she saw to her blind little angel. She would have smiled sadly at the thought, but tears began to flow instead. Her mother was dying, and Raziel was out here enjoying the world without her, her task of finding two people still unfruitful as the moment she stepped foot out of the Cradle.

Like a blow to the heart, it hit her suddenly. After a quick tally of the passing of time, it was without a doubt her birthday. Raziel always believed that she would be with her mother on her 100th birthday, but they were continents apart. The angel fell to her knees then, drenching herself from the waist down as she buried her face in her hands. She sobbed as silently as she could, feeling more alone than she ever has before. Since departing from her mother's side, Raziel has been a victim to so much evil, even Zander perished in her defense. Friends she had made seemed to have disappeared.

As Ensarrian fell into a deep sleep, everything around him seemed to have changed. The sound of the waves were replaced by the echoes of his breath, the smell of salt in the wind, the fading warmth of the setting sun, the soft sand beneath him, all of it changed to a chilling damp room with cold stone walls. There was no fresh air, only the horrid smell of blood and mold. His movements were restricted by chains holding him to the wall, his stomach empty for days, skin pale, bruised and bleeding. All of his muscles were gone, his figure reduced to jagged bones from the lack of exercise and proper meals. He had been trapped in that small room for so very long. There was nothing to do, no way of escape aside from the iron door his eyes glared at every day.

Suddenly, the iron door slowly opened, the dim light of a torch offering light into the small and dark room. Three men came walking in, all dressed in mage robes with their hoods covering their cowardly faces. “How long as it been?” Bellowed the man with the torch, the one standing only a step away from Ensarrian. “Four weeks,” one of the other men replied. Ensarrian could see a broad smirk form on the torch man’s face. “Astounding,” he said with a tone of pride. “Who would have thought that he could last this long without food, and only at the age of twelve. He is certainly strong for a child.” Ensarrian clenched his hands, his glare growing more and more intense, and he released a huff of hot breath caused by the fire he kept burning inside him to keep himself warm. Its heat caused dense steam in the cold room, forcing the man to take a step back so that his face would not burn.

“Awfully feisty for having no food for so long,” the man said. “I thought you would have weakened by now, enough to bend to my will at least.” His smirk grew as he extended a hand towards Ensarrian. “What do you say, are you ready to escape this suffering and do as I say? I promise I won’t make you kill anyone this time.” Ensarrian’s eyes narrowed at the man’s hand. The man was aiming to break the boy, to turn him into his mindless slave, and he performed horrible experiments to test Ensarrian’s limits and capabilities. He knew what the man was truly after, and he also knew that he could never be trusted. The last time he made that mistake innocent lives were taken. “I would rather starve,” Ensarrian growled, the heat inside him growing greater. The man’s smirk and hand fell, “Very well then.” He turned away with the other two men and began walking out the door. “I shall give your more time to ponder on it. Then we will see if you still have the strength to defy me, after another four weeks.”

The door shut, and Ensarrian was once again left alone in the darkness.

His fiery eyes shot open to see darkness yet again. At first his heart pounded at the thought that none of that was a dream and he was still trapped in that small room, but as he took a moment to fully awaken he noticed the stars overhead. It was only night, nothing more. With a heavy sigh of relief he pulled himself up so that he was sitting. Somehow he’d fallen onto his side while he slept, and now sand plastered his cheek. He rubbed it all off, spitting away any that had gotten on his lips. Even as he tried ignoring the dream he’d had, it still managed to haunt him, bringing back the fear he’d once felt long ago. He hadn’t had any dreams like that in a very long time, so why had they returned? He no longer had anything to fear. He was outside, no walls or chains kept him down and contained. He was free.

He quickly reminded himself that it was nothing more than a dream, that it meant nothing, and began attempting to turn his attention elsewhere. Instantly he looked to his side for Raziel, only to find that her spot was empty. Her shoes and walking stick were still there, and upon further examination he noticed a trail of footprints leading straight for the ocean. There he saw her fallen form. Raising a brow, he removed the blanket from himself and stood, slowly approaching from behind. Quiet slushing signaled that he’d entered the water, the small waves crashing against his boots softly. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly paused all movement when he heard the angel sobbing. Was she…crying? Why?

For a while he continued standing in silence as he searched for what he should do. Naturally he wanted to reach out to her, to offer comfort and wipe her tears away. But he was never good at being soft and kind. Expressing emotions was not his forte. He could not just leave her, though, and acting as he normally does -blunt and strong- would only make her feel worse. Ensarrian is a very kind and caring person at heart, he was just afraid to show it.

Biting his lip a little nervously, he finally forced himself to approach her fully. Ever so tenderly he placed his uninjured hand upon her shoulder. “It’s alright to let it all out,” he said softly. “You don’t need to hide anything when you are around me.” He then crouched behind her, his knees and boots soaking with water as he did so. Keeping his hand on her shoulder, he leaned forward and lightly pressed his forehead against her back. It was something to give off the slight feeling of an embrace, letting her know that he was close and available for whatever she needed. He was also trying to be respectful of the fact that they were still strangers. Embracing her head on might frighten her, and she may feel uncomfortable if he moved in front of her to look upon her face. He knew women normally didn’t like being seen when they’re crying. If she wanted a hug, she would have to make the first move. After all that she had done to help him, he figured this was the least he could do.

Her entire body stiffened at the sudden touch, the unexpected contact of another. While she was able to relax, somewhat, at Ensarrian's voice, Raziel could not control the flow of tears. Months without the ability to share with her mother, torture endured, and long, lonely silent stretches of time poured forth now the proverbial dam had broke. She mourned her wolf, prematurely mourned her mother, and was frustrated at the lack of negative emotions toward her unfindable father.

Even now that she had no fear of waking Ensarrian, her sobs remained as silent as they were, until they subsided altogether. The angel used the base of her palms and much of her arms to dry her face, leaving only the periodic rapid gasping for air the only evidence of her crying. With her patient leaning his head on her, Raziel had felt quite comforted, though might have preferred if he had pulled her into a hug as her mother did. For a long while, she remained silent.

"It's my birthday, today." The angel's voice was somber as she finally broke the silence. After another moment, Raziel forced a sad smile on her face. "We should get you out of the ocean, lest you get cold and sick." Raziel turned until her patient was before her. "Although, I must admit, you are the first patient who had to perform a service for me. Thank you. May I… Um… Nevermind." Her face flushed from embarrassment, shaking her head. It was not a request she made often.

Raziel stood and offered a helping hand. Once he stood, Ensarrian would easily see their height differences, as she barely came up to his sternum. Yet, her desire to remember this person beyond his name and voice persisted. "Ensarrian, may I…?" She blushed deeper as she tucked her chin to her chest. "May I…" Her voice grew softer with each attempt to ask. "May I… Feel your face?" Eylids scrunched closed, afraid of a negative answer, almost berating herself for such an invasive request.