It was twilight when Liz finally woke from her sleep, blinking her eyes as she looked around for her unusual friend or her even-more-unusual saviour. Seeing no one around, she shifted to sit up, crying out as the sharp pain from her wound hit her. With shaky hands she tried to pull up her dress enough to see her hip where the arrow had embedded itself. The dried blood and salve had stuck her dress to the wound, causing every movement of the thin garment to hurt. Biting her lip, she slowly and carefully forced it off, trying hard not to scream.
"Liz! You're awake!"
Liz looked up, dropping her dress back down over the wound as Mist walked up to her, a concerned look of his face. His hair was wet and he was shirtless, the wool shirt he usually wore dripping wet in his hand. "How are you feeling?" He asked as he hung his shirt to dry over a low branch.
Liz choked on her words, unable to answer him. Her gaze was fixated on the long v-shaped scar that ran down where his left shoulder once was. His collarbone was missing, and he had no shoulder blade either, just one smooth line from the side of his neck down his body.
Noticing her staring, he covered the area with his hand, suddenly self-conscious. "How are you feeling?" he asked again.
She bit her lip, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I just..."
"You've never seen it before, I get it." Mist covered his scar more noticeably, and Liz felt guilty for staring.
"Where's the Eyylik?" She asked, hoping to change the subject as she looked around for signs of him.
Mist scowled. "Don't know, don't care." Liz gave him a confused look, prompting him to continue. "He left, but it's fine. His kind would only cause trouble anyway."
"What do you mean? He saved us."
Mist's scowl deepened and he looked away. "He's an Eyylik, though. He would have turned on us eventually."
"I... I don't understand..." There was a small catch in her voice as she spoke, her eyes welling with sadness. "He promised he'd protect me."
Mist rolled his eyes, crouching on the ground and rooting through Liz's pack. "Well, he didn't promise me that."
"Did he attack you?"
Mist hesitated for a moment, weighing his options before answering. "No."
"Then what happened?"
"Liz," Mist raised his voice, upset at her continual badgering, "just trust me. He's not going to help us."
"Why would he save us and then leave us before I'm healed?"
Mist gave up searching through the bag, unable to find what he was looking for. Frustrated, he stood up angrily and began pacing, his hand moving to cover the massive scar across his side. "I don't know."
Seeing his aggravation, Liz gave him a desperate look. "Mist, please! What happened?"
"He called me 'not whole,' Liz!" He exclaimed loudly, his voice echoing slightly through the dense forest.
"What?"
Mist sighed and shifted his weight, still standing with his hand trying to cover his scar. "He said I wasn't whole."
Liz subconsciously looked at his amputated area, contemplating the Eyylik's words against her better judgement. The slope of his neck simply continued, smoothing down to his side with only the slightest curve where his arm used to be. It was obvious looking at him that something was missing, that he was incomplete. Not whole. But why did that matter?
Mist caught her staring again and scoffed, turning his scar away from her view and looking down at the ground sullenly. "You should get some more rest."
"No, Mist, I just-"
"I get it, Liz. It's fine."
Liz saw the sadness in his face as he continued to look at the ground and forced herself to stay awake. He needed her, and she was determined to be there for him, despite the pain radiating from her wounded hip and the overwhelming exhaustion that loomed over her.
"Mist..."
"I used to be... whole, once," he began, his voice wavering slightly as he spat out the word, "not that long ago, in fact."
Silence ensued, and Liz waited until the appropriate time to encourage him to continue. "What happened?"
Mist gripped his scar with his hand, his brown eyes looking distant, as though he was looking back into the past as he stared up at the clouds above him. "I was working in the city as a carpenter. A friend of mine asked me a favour one day; his really old barn had partially collapsed in a recent storm, and he begged me to try and fix it for him. He didn't have a lot of money and I wanted to help out a friend, so I agreed." He chuckled and shook his head, and Liz could plainly see the pain in his eyes. "I really was an idiot."
He shifted his weight slightly and met Liz's gaze, still gripping the remains of his shoulder as if it hurt. "Long story short, the barn wasnt stable enough for me to be trying to clear it out to repair it. I touched the wrong thing and it came crashing down, collapsing on top of me.
"They said I was lucky to have survived, considering how bad I was when they pulled me out of the rubble. One of the support beams had fallen on my upper arm, crushing it. They told me they had to make the decision: my arm or my life."
"I'm so sorry."
Mist chuckled and waved dismissively. "Don't be, Liz. Traumatic as it was, losing the arm wasn't the worst thing to happen to me." He shook his head as if in disbelief at the world around him. "Living without it was."
"What do you mean?" She asked.
"Just think for a moment of everything you use your hands for. Simple things like washing myself or getting dressed became so difficult for me. Living alone, I found myself getting angry at the slightest of things I couldn't do. And I couldn't work, of course. A one-armed carpenter? No one wants that."
"But wasn't there anything else you could do? Besides carpentry, I mean?"
"Perhaps, but people everywhere looked at me and saw a liability. They didn't want to hire me for even small tasks because what takes a normal person an hour might take me two. Not to mention the never-ending stares of pity."
Noticing the pitying look she gave him, he looked away in embarrassment and disappointment.
"I'm sorry, Liz. You don't need to hear about my troubles."
He turned away from her, his hand still grasping the sensitive skin of his shoulder.
"But I want to..."
The small voice, full of desperation and lonliness, behind him made his heart cry out. He turned slightly to look at her, watching the tears fill her eyes.
"Why won't you tell me anything?!" Unable to hold back the tears any longer, she let them flow down her cheek as her sadness turned to anger. "No secrets I said, remember? Do you know how difficult it was for me to tell you my story?!"
Mist sighed and closed his eyes, centering himself. She was right. He knew it.
"Its hard for me to say it..."
She nodded, wiping the tears with the back of her hand. "Of course it is," she said, "but some things need to be said."
"Just because it needs to be said, doesn't mean it needs to be heard." Mist argued.
Liz met Mist's gaze with a fierce determination. "So what happened next?" Seeing that Mist had no intention of telling her, she pressed further. "What happened next? I know that wasn't the end of your story."
"No," he admitted, shaking his head slightly, "that's not the end."
"Then tell me!" she demanded.
Mist couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face. He relaxed himself, looking up at the cloud-covered sky. "That determination of yours is impressive, Liz."
"Your story, Mist?" she said wryly, trying to bring him back on topic.
"I wanted to die."
Her mouth dropped open as she heard his words, unable to believe them. She stared at the tall man - a pillar of strength to her eyes - as he looked up at the sky solemnly, allowing the weight of his words to sink in.
"You...?" she uttered under her breath.
Mist looked back to her, a peaceful smile on his face. "I wanted to die."
"I thought," he continued, "that it would be easier to leave this world than face the endless frustration in my life. And pain." The smile disappeared from his face as he dropped his gaze downward, and his hand unconsciously returned to rest on the remnants of his shoulder. "The pain is so bad...
"I thought so many times about how to do it. A fall from a great height? A noose around my neck? Slit my own throat? If she hadn't chosen me, I would probably be dead by now.
"But..." He raised his eyes to meet Liz's gaze as he spoke, a newfound strength deep inside them. "The Goddess chose me. While I slept, Iana visited me in my dream."
"The Goddess of Magic?"
Mist nodded. "It's a little-known fact, but she used to be a prophetic goddess. She took me and showed me a world without fear - without Shades! She told me I needed to go to the Citadel and do her bidding.
"I begged her to choose another." He looked down at the ground again in shame at the admittance. "I told her I was weak. Incomplete. Not whole. She didn't care. She said she was giving me something to help me. I woke up, and my room was filled with fog, a mist so thick I panicked, even though I could see through it. It was like drifting in a cloud. It makes everything... fuzzy." He chuckled and shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. "Its really hard to explain.
"Either way, I knew this was the gift she had given me. Iana had awoken the magic within me, but the Shades never came. I grabbed a few things and left the city before the Eyyliks could spot me."
Liz took a moment, biting her lower lip, the slew of new information churning in her head.
"Look.." Mist sat down on the ground across from where Liz lay propped up. "When Vyre called me 'not whole', it reminded me of my weakness. I don't deserve the gift the Goddess gave me. I don't have the strength to do this task for her."
Liz tried to shift closer to her friend, but she underestimated the pain the movement would bring. She cried out and grasped at her wound instinctively, fresh blood oozing from it as the temporary scab the salve had helped form tore open.
Mist jumped at the sound of her pain, scrambling to her side. "Liz!"
Liz closed her eyes and bit her lip until she tasted blood as the pain slowly ebbed away. She smiled weakly at the concerned look in his brown eyes. "I'm okay."
Mist let out a deep breath, visibly relaxing. "I'm worried about you," he admitted.
Liz smiled at him, hoping to soften the blow from what she was going to say next. "If you're worried about me, find the Eyylik."
Mist's jaw dropped open and he stuttered angrily, shocked that she would suggest such a thing.548Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCrm3GYs7w9
Liz didn't give him the chance to argue. "It's not weakness to admit that we need help, Mist! He was willing to help."548Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1KbMBMqaK6
"He wasn't willing to help." Mist growled through clenched teeth. "He insulted me and he left us."
"He promised me he would keep me safe," Liz retorted.
"He lied."
"Mist."
"Fine." Mist stood up, brushing himself off. "How am I even supposed to find him, anyway? He could be anywhere by now."
Liz looked around. "It's getting dark. Maybe he's camping for the night."
"He could be hours away, Liz."
Liz looked at the pain in her friend's eyes, feeling guilty for asking him to locate the man who had hurt him so deeply. But that same gut feeling that kept her alive for all those years told her that if they didn't find him before the sun set, they would never see the morning.
"He didn't go far. I just know it."
Mist matched her gaze, looking tired and dejected, almost pleading with her to let him go. But Liz knew she could not.
Mist sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his messy hair. "Fine, I'll try to find him for you," he yielded, and Liz could not hide her smile.
He moved over to the branch his shirt lay draped across and saw it had barely begun to dry. Sighing exaggeratedly, he threw up his arm in frustration and walked off to where he had watched Vyre disappear earlier.548Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAQpScF3zAt
"I'm not going out of earshot," his voice trailed after him as he picked his way through the dense growth, "and if he calls me 'not whole' again, I'm not playing nice..."
Liz giggled at his bluster as she watched him walk away. Once she could no longer hear his low grumbling complaints, she lifted up her dress to examine her wound, carefully removing her stuck clothing. The scab that had started to form over the gash had cracked, and blood and plasma oozed from the area. Groaning at the movements, she reached for her bag and dragged it close to her body. With one hand still gripping her hip applying pressure, she rummaged through her bag, searching for the ingredients for the salve.548Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTOckfdS27z
After spreading another layer of salve made of honey (nearly emptying out her stash of it!), Liz allowed herself to relax and dwell on Mist's situation. If Mist did have some kind of power to stop the Shades from appearing, then maybe Liz could have a future. She could re-enter society. Start a family. Live out her days in peace. Without fear.
But Mist...
Even with the fear of magic gone and him being able to return to a normal life, he would always be an amputee. Incomplete.
Not whole.
What kind of life would that be?
Liz bit her lip as she began to wonder. Why is he doing this if there is no real benefit to him? Why would he put himself through Hell trying to help people if, in the end, he'll still be discriminated against? The curious thought followed her into the realms of her sleep as exhaustion overwhelmed her, her dreams haunted by pitying stares and the words 'not whole' echoing in her mind.
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