Padawan
The moment before waking did not feel like sleep. It felt like falling. Not the sharp, sudden drop of a misstep; but something longer. It was weightless and wrong; where the body had not yet realized it was in danger, but the mind had already begun to brace for it.
And then-
Sound returned first. Like a violent shudder. Metal groaned under strain, then came the sharp, splintering crack of something giving way.
Lumiya’s eyes opened to motion. The transport lurched hard enough to throw her forward against the restraint. Her breath caught as the harness bit into her chest, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Around her, the calm murmur of travel had shattered into panic. Voices rose, overlapping, and breaking into shouts that struggled to be heard over the screaming hull.
She did not understand what was happening at first. Only that something was. Her hands moved before her thoughts could catch up, fingers tightening instinctively around the worn strap of her medical kit. She held it close, as though it might steady her, and as though the familiar weight of it could anchor her against the chaos unfolding around her.
Another jolt came, this time harder. The lights then flickered. Someone cried out. Something struck the side of the transport with a force that reverberated through the frame, a deep, concussive impact that turned fear into certainty. They were under attack.
Lumiya drew in a breath that never quite settled, her shoulders pulling inward as if bracing against something she could not see. Her gaze flickered from one face to another - strangers, all of them - each caught in the same widening realization. She should do something. The thought came, small and distant. She did not know what.
The transport dipped - too sharply, too fast - and the world seemed to tilt beneath her. And then---
Silence did not come all at once. It crept in. Through the ringing in her ears. Through the fading echo of torn metal and breaking systems. Through the absence of motion where there should have been more.
Lumiya became aware of her breathing before anything else. Shallow. Uneven. And alive. Her eyes opened again, slower this time. The world had stopped moving. What remained of the transport did not resemble what it once had been. The side of the hull had been torn open, jagged edges framing a view of unfamiliar forest beyond; tall, dark shapes and filtered light cutting through drifting smoke. The air carried the scent of burned circuitry and scorched metal, thick enough to taste.
For a moment, she did not move. She simply looked. She took in what she could understand. And what she could not. Her hands were still clutched around her medical kit. That, more than anything, seemed to bring her back. Then she took a breath; slightly deeper this time. And then another.
The sounds followed. Not loud. Not chaotic. But small things. A cough. A strained inhale. A quiet, pained whimper somewhere behind her.
Lumiya’s gaze shifted. The others. They were waking. Injured. The realization settled slowly, but once it did, it did not leave. Her stomach tightened. Her grip on the kit faltered just slightly before she steadied it again, her fingers curling more deliberately this time. She didn’t feel ready. She didn’t feel capable. But there was no one else moving. No one else reaching.
Lumiya swallowed, the motion small but visible, as she carefully unfastened the harness that had held her in place. The release felt louder than it should have in the fragile quiet that had replaced the crash. And for a brief moment, she remained seated. Just long enough to gather something that resembled resolve. Then, slowly; albeit carefully, she pushed herself to her feet. The world tilted, just slightly. She steadied herself against the damaged frame beside her, eyes closing for the briefest second as she willed the dizziness to pass. When they opened again, they did not look outward. They looked to the nearest injured passenger.
Her voice, when it came, was soft. Uncertain. But present. “…I’m here.”
Tag:
Darion of Myrkr
And then-
Sound returned first. Like a violent shudder. Metal groaned under strain, then came the sharp, splintering crack of something giving way.
Lumiya’s eyes opened to motion. The transport lurched hard enough to throw her forward against the restraint. Her breath caught as the harness bit into her chest, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. Around her, the calm murmur of travel had shattered into panic. Voices rose, overlapping, and breaking into shouts that struggled to be heard over the screaming hull.
She did not understand what was happening at first. Only that something was. Her hands moved before her thoughts could catch up, fingers tightening instinctively around the worn strap of her medical kit. She held it close, as though it might steady her, and as though the familiar weight of it could anchor her against the chaos unfolding around her.
Another jolt came, this time harder. The lights then flickered. Someone cried out. Something struck the side of the transport with a force that reverberated through the frame, a deep, concussive impact that turned fear into certainty. They were under attack.
Lumiya drew in a breath that never quite settled, her shoulders pulling inward as if bracing against something she could not see. Her gaze flickered from one face to another - strangers, all of them - each caught in the same widening realization. She should do something. The thought came, small and distant. She did not know what.
The transport dipped - too sharply, too fast - and the world seemed to tilt beneath her. And then---
Silence did not come all at once. It crept in. Through the ringing in her ears. Through the fading echo of torn metal and breaking systems. Through the absence of motion where there should have been more.
Lumiya became aware of her breathing before anything else. Shallow. Uneven. And alive. Her eyes opened again, slower this time. The world had stopped moving. What remained of the transport did not resemble what it once had been. The side of the hull had been torn open, jagged edges framing a view of unfamiliar forest beyond; tall, dark shapes and filtered light cutting through drifting smoke. The air carried the scent of burned circuitry and scorched metal, thick enough to taste.
For a moment, she did not move. She simply looked. She took in what she could understand. And what she could not. Her hands were still clutched around her medical kit. That, more than anything, seemed to bring her back. Then she took a breath; slightly deeper this time. And then another.
The sounds followed. Not loud. Not chaotic. But small things. A cough. A strained inhale. A quiet, pained whimper somewhere behind her.
Lumiya’s gaze shifted. The others. They were waking. Injured. The realization settled slowly, but once it did, it did not leave. Her stomach tightened. Her grip on the kit faltered just slightly before she steadied it again, her fingers curling more deliberately this time. She didn’t feel ready. She didn’t feel capable. But there was no one else moving. No one else reaching.
Lumiya swallowed, the motion small but visible, as she carefully unfastened the harness that had held her in place. The release felt louder than it should have in the fragile quiet that had replaced the crash. And for a brief moment, she remained seated. Just long enough to gather something that resembled resolve. Then, slowly; albeit carefully, she pushed herself to her feet. The world tilted, just slightly. She steadied herself against the damaged frame beside her, eyes closing for the briefest second as she willed the dizziness to pass. When they opened again, they did not look outward. They looked to the nearest injured passenger.
Her voice, when it came, was soft. Uncertain. But present. “…I’m here.”
Tag:
Darion of Myrkr
