"I see." Arialla took a deep breath and almost smiled, at this sign of the gods' favor. They wanted her to live, so she would. They might not be able to control the actions of evil humans, but they could heal and offer solace -- and, perhaps, vengeance. "The gods have been good to me, but thank you for calling on them. I think I owe some offerings as well."
Evil humans, or not so humans. Arialla's almost-smile turned into an expression of disgust and horror at the mention of the Ascended. "I know of the Ascended ... I had hoped that the blood-drinking was only a tale."
Her hand had never quite come down from the scar at her neck, and she brushed her fingers over it now. It didn't hurt, but she hated it anyway. Her attacker had marked her, left evidence for all to see of how helpless and hurt she'd been. Indelible. She could never be the same carefree girl again.
"Yes ... they drank from me. It was ..." Arialla shuddered and felt no need to go on: this man seemed to understand the horror of what had happened to her, and she didn't want to think about it too closely. "I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die, just so it'd be over."
She offered Gideon a weak smile when he said he wished he'd been there sooner. "You arrived as soon as you could ... The gods sent you to me when I needed you. I can ask no more."
Arialla climbed slowly, carefully, to her feet. Moving didn't hurt, but she winced at the amount of fresh blood on her clothes and skin, in her hair. The stew-soaked basket she'd dropped lay a few feet away.
please don't take my sunshine away
