bethen avilla ; the circle mage (bethe) wrote in thedas,
The sudden combined impact of spider, its web, and the cold earthen floor had left Bethen initially dazed; it just barely registered with her that the shrill shriek had come from her own throat, though it was hard to remember when the sound was quickly muffled by a thick, sticky weave that managed to wrap itself around her slim figure and over her face. Staring up at four pairs of glittering eyes and a gaping dark maw was surreal, this entire moment something of an out of body experience. Part of her was panicking, urging her to move, get up, do anything to break free. Maybe it was the blow to the head that had rendered her so ineffective, but none of her limbs shifted even a fraction of an inch from where they were trapped. Not until the beast above her broke away, distracted by something -- light? A spell? She couldn't tell, but she felt it recoil, the sounds it made rattling through her bones as it reared back, ready to charge at its next victim.
She tried to turn her head to see where it was going, maybe to warn Constans too late to be careful, but there were cobwebs in her mouth, clinging to her tongue and clogging her throat. To breathe, let alone speak, would be difficult. She couldn't see, couldn't move, and fear finally sank in -- oddly, not for herself, but for her would be savior (though they were at about even on that score, nevermind that this wasn't really a competition). They were not friends, he would not have given her a second glance in a hallway except to mock her, but she did not want to see any serious harm come to him, especially not if she could help it. Frantically, Bethen tried to pull the thick silk off her clothing, formerly pristine robes now filthy, askew and slightly torn from the struggle. She managed to finally free her hands and legs, sitting up only as she heard the other apprentice say her name.
Hot air blew against her face as a stream of yellow-orange flames consumed the black limbs of the beast; it must have roared, but she could barely hear it underneath the crackling fire. She was still on the ground, at least to her knees, but she could feel the pressing heat and smell the smoke rising. It was no longer darkly lit, but the air was growing heavier. It was so warm in there, increasingly so as the spider wildly threw itself into walls and hanging shreds of cocoons, deterred by the combustion, setting its own nest alight in its fury and desperation to put itself out. Bethen coughed hard, trying to dislodge the webbing and keep the soot out, blindly grabbing at rocks to help her find her way back to her feet. A sharp pain erupted in the space between ankle and heel as she stood, faltered, and caught herself on Constans' shoulder.
Bethen was exhausted, powerful spells cast with a price. She just wanted to stop, sleep, even if that meant right then and there, her forehead resting against his shoulder blade, hands clutching at the back of his robes. We are not friends, she reminded herself again, but she did owe him her life, and vice versa. That was something. She couldn't define it now, nor did they really have the luxury of time to do so. Beth righted herself as best she could, craning her neck so that she could see the pathway she had started to clear behind them. The shattered remains of the spider she'd slain first were thawing out, slick chunks of carapace strewn about the ground. But no more of the enemy impeded the final dash to the storage room doors, where ceilings were lower and far more visible.
"Constans," was all she could manage to wheeze out, fingers still wound into the fabric he was wearing, feebly trying to drag him with her as she hobbled forward. They were so close now. From this distance, she could just see the top of that shelf she'd asked him to reach as a favor, and the glint of glass on the ground. She still needed to help him label those canisters, didn't she? Later. Now, she needed to shout at the top of her lungs in the direction of their intended exit. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP US!"