The thought that her plea might not sway the guards hadn't been entirely past Annara but that they would actually be taken prisoner, treated and led through the city like common criminals, the target of curses and rocks... How could that be happening? Hadn't they risked their lives over and over again to drive people from the endangered villages? Hadn't they done everything they could to save those who didn't know and wouldn't have believed that they needed to be saved? Didn't most of the people who attacked them on the streets owe their lives to them?

And yet Aust was carrying her down narrow stairs, all their weapons confiscated; even her daggers had been roughly taken from her, the guard in question ignoring her winces and the groans she had to bite back. But that was nothing compared to what happened at the bottom: In their eagerness to lock them up, they were shoved into the cell and Aust, poor, exhausted Aust who must have been well past his limits already, lost his balance, fell... and Annara with him.

The explosion of pain was so overwhelming she couldn't hold it back, couldn't even think about stifling it - she cried out so loudly that it must have echoed through the entire castle. Her torso and arm felt like she had landed on a board of nails, even after Aust lifted himself off of her and helped her lie down in a corner where the straw was a little thicker and didn't reek as much. She thanked him with a forced smile and gentle touch of his hand, still struggling against the agony that had claimed her voice. Was he apologizing? The Eretol was barely able to focus on her own thoughts, let alone the noises around her, so she wasn't sure, but she certainly didn't blame him for the fall. Without him, she wouldn't be here. She couldn't think of many men who would have carried her through the desert for an entire day.

Yuna's and Lothren's face appeared at the edge of her field of view and she thought she could hear somebody say something but she wasn't sure and it was still a little too hard to focus on the world outside her body when so much was broken inside it.

Maybe she deserved it. When she closed her eyes, she could see the knight, hands tied and defenseless, as she hit him again and again, only her blinding anger preventing her from drawing a weapon; she could see the little boy she had threatened and his terrified parents; she could see the girl she had killed, feel her warm blood on her hands.

[color=orangered][i]Maybe I deserve this.[/i][/color]

But even wallowing in self-pity was hard when the pain was this great. Nobody would be looking at her injuries anytime soon, that much was becoming ever clearer. There was another way, though. The Ancestors listened to every prayer but calling on their aid without an offering could offend the more ill-natured among them. They were fickle enough even when they were treated with proper respect and gifts but without them...

[color=orangered][i]I don't have a choice.[/i][/color]

Her headwound was still oozing a little under the bandage, would probably continue to do so for a couple hours more and get infected unless it was washed and stitched soon, but maybe that was enough to placate them. Annara gingerly raised her healthy hand to her head and shrugged off the bandage, almost immediately finding the faint wetness of trickling blood.

[color=orangered]"Ancients, forgive me"[/color], she whispered between rattling breaths, [color=orangered]"For I must call upon you... Ancestors, I beg you... Aid us in this time of need... Give us strength... Make me whole... Help us who linger under... Blue skies... Have mercy on those who... Wander the desert... Ancients, forgive me... For I must call upon you..."[/color] 

She repeated, chanted, sing-songed, hoping that one of the spirits would come to their aid before the exertion robbed her of her consciousness and heal a broken bone, make the guard with the keys stumble and break his neck right in front of their cell or send a merciful soul to them who could free them some other way. Strange how infallibly that last thought made her think of the King of Areta.

[color=orangered][i]Alan...[/i][/color]