when the stars go out

Something in the way his name resounded, on a pained gasp, on those anguished, agonizing turns, made his heart twist, sharp claws raking down his chest, coiling in his ribs. Jigano had her before he did, but otherwise there before her within an instant, the notions all spiraling out of control, confirmations between her whispers and the unmoving limbs. Even as the Sage bit and tore, delving further into magic and incantations, even as Amun gestured with the staff, even as Zuriel continued her stay on bent knees, it wasn’t enough – too much damage, too much destruction, too much harm. And as much as some inner rage began to churn and burn in the pits of his being, he had nothing and no one to pin it on.

So he swallowed it down, along with the rest of the ethers, the vestiges, the pinnacles of pain harbored within – choking and smothering so it didn’t sweep into hers, so it didn’t make everything so much worse.

His hands on her, a gentle, grasping hold (that hurt too; that maybe this would only make things worse), striving to keep her as straight as possible, to place her on the stretcher. He had no intention of injuring her further, afraid, afraid, afraid of anything and everything in those fragile beacons and moments, holding his breath as he softly extended and lowered. He didn’t even know what to say. Were they not in the presence of others, it could’ve been an allotment of things – instead he gripped his hands on the outskirts of the stretcher, prepared to lift her once someone else grabbed the other side. [say]I have you[/say] flickered between bonds. But for how long didn’t, just a reeling conflagration bursting in his essence, eyes lifting to those willing, before always going back to her. [say]“We will take you to the infirmary.”[/say] Drowning in every other nuance, in comfort that he couldn’t seem to trace, he waited – then carried.

- FIN for Deimos

Amun had nothing useful to contribute, it seemed, and so Jigano ignored him as unimportant - especially when he took the staff away to apply it elsewhere. Later, perhaps, there would be venom and anger at the memory, but for the moment all that mattered was Amalia and doing what he could to heal her, pouring his magic, his heart and soul, unstintingly into a body that was knitting together before their eyes...

But not enough. Never enough.

He caught her as she rose, but he would surrender her to Deimos's arms, concerned only that he had some part of her to touch, that the magic might flow without interruption. Wessex suggested moving her and Jigano simply nodded curt acquiescence, sending a pulse of quieter agreement to Deimos at the General's decision of a place. Near at hand and hopefully untouched by the damage to the Shrine, it was better than trying to carry her across the settlement. The last of the rocks were moved and he gave Deimos space to lift and shift Amalia to the stretcher, then took his place at her side, letting her lover and one of the others carry the swathe of canvas and poles while he kept his contact with the injured baker, healing any incidental complications from the move and simply giving her all that he had to give, in case the feeling in her legs only needed more - more time, more magic, more care, more power - to fix.

It wouldn't be that simple. Nothing on Caido ever was. But he wouldn't stop trying until he had nothing left to give.

- Finished for Jigano

The infirmary- and oh, but she wants to rebell against that notion, resist becoming trapped in the place still haunted by her mother's errant ghosts. But it makes sense: it is close, and safe, and she won't be there long.

As soon as her legs heal she'll be free.

She falls back heavily onto the stretched, suddenly terribly tired. As her body continues to knit itself together Amalia closes her weary eyes, trusting her friends and family to get her to safety, too bewildered and in too much pain to reflect on the implications of what just happened, and how it will change her life.

[Fin]