Ashamin & Zandora



I was your Perseus,
vying for the power of Medusa,
seeking the affection of a snake, a stone, a soldier.

But now it's time to rest that reflection--
now I've got no strength to lift up that blade.
Just rest, now, lie with me.

Eventually, we'll win.




Ashamin was laying in the snow with his eyes shut and the blood still pumping audibly in his ears when the cold dark passed over him. It was Zandora. It was her shadow--somehow, she was standing.

"Zandora..." he said quietly, kindly, as if no violence had passed between them. What violence was there between friends?

He opened his eyes when he felt her place his sarong over his battered body. He had neither the time nor care to pay attention to the staining of the silken white, the way that the blood was soaked into the cloth and dyed it red. The Haruspex wanted to pull her down into the snow with him; every time he heard her cough he flinched at the harsh sound. It was unforgiving, that sort of pain.

Above, the stars shone brightly in the dark sky. Ashamin found one to be brighter than the others--a warrior's figure, and a long, mirrored blade. He remembered the shapes, he had seen them before, but he had never given them much thought. But now he thought of the stories he'd been told as a colt and the infinite reflections of that sword.

Was he the mirror and its wielder, now, that struck down the wicked woman, the queen of stone? Ashamin had never much hated the villain of that tale, and seeing himself in its Perseus hero was disquieting, to say the least. Was he not, though, the warrior with the mirror on his side? As Haruspex, wasn't that exactly his calling nowadays?

And what of Zandora, who stood above him with blood coming from her mouth like the scattered flake of snow? Was she his medusa?

Why had he struck her down?

They needed help. "Zandora, please... rest," he groaned out, his voice shivering and his whole body growing numb with pain dulled by cold. She had him on the ground now, unable to move with a body like lead and stone, and she stood with her heart cracked by his offer of friendship. Had he ruined her?

In the distance, Ashamin thought he heart the faint sound of hoofbeats. He felt his heart ease as the tether of his bond grew shorter. Lochan was coming close. "Zandora, the stars... they speak of battle, tonight. Maybe this was fate, but... you haven't lost. And you shouldn't stop fighting. So rest, for faith's sake, before you have no life left to live." Every word was strained, his throat rattled with the effort of speech and as he shifted as if to look up at her, pain shot through his leg.

Ashamin fell back to the earth. "I'm sorry... I did this to you. Just please, don't hurt yourself any longer."

Then, as Ashamin felt the world slip into quiet shadow and his lids drift down, Lochan broke into the clearing.

[[Yup, got it all! Ashamin is at the moment on the verge of passing out so he might be sort of delirious.]]