This is a sequel to This image.

She waited several hours at the designated spot, her long pink hair shown silver in the moonlight. Her face was a picture of worry as she stopped and stared out into the desert. She knew that Dema, her love, had a unfathomable knack for weaponry. However she also knew that despite her hardened viking exterior- she was a soft and gentle woman.
She started pacing back and forth along the entrance of the cave, Katur laid his ears back and whined with worry. She felt a pang in her heart and stopped again, she knew something was wrong.

"She told me to wait here, Katur. She wouldn't want me to go back." but in her heart she knew she would.

She called for Nohrahk, her fearless stallion- ever since she had been kidnapped by the desert lord, Nohrahk had been her only friend in the encampment. Until her love appeared and saved her. Nohrahk knickered in knowing, his blanket and bridle still on from the ride earlier.

She jumped up and positioned herself comfortably along Nohrahk's back. With a whistle, she called for Katur. He lepted up in her lap and at that signal, Nohrahk started to move. At first his pace slow, but gradually picked up to a hasty gallop.

In no time, they reached the top of a hill that overlooked the area where she last left her love. As far as the eye could see, the ground was littered with the bodies of the desert lords monsters. Katur jumped from her lap and took off down the hill, Brittanu hoped that he was on the scent of his companion and urged Nohrahk to follow.

They didn't find her love in the midst of the slaughter, but Brittanu knew that she would not have wanted to die amongst them. She heard Katur barking in the distance and hastily made her way towards the sound.

With a cry of dismay, she located her. She had crawled past the rocks and laid down on the open sand, the ground was caked in her blood- but Katur was faithfully laying by her side.

Britt quickly unmounted Nohrahk and ran down to where Dema lay.

"Dema! Please, please be okay." she begged and attempted to roll her abused body over. A groan emited from the wolfess and she opened her eyes briefly to look at whom disturbed her peaceful death.

"Ah...the troublemaker has come back." whispered the wolfess, her hand reaching up to touch Britt's face. "Look at all the trouble you've caused, you're mother named you wrong. You should have been a Helen."

Brittanu noticed Dema's right hand was cut and bleeding, then saw beside her body that her sword was broken. The blood on the bottom part of the sword suggested that when it broke, she continued to use it as a weapon.

"I'm such a fool..." Britt exclaimed, tears running down her face. "I should never have asked your help, I should have stayed, I should have..."

"Shhh, you talk to much." Dema laughed huskilly, while nuzzling her neck. "Even with all this blood, gore, and sweat- you smell so sweet."

Britt started to cry, but slowly started to emit strands of her aura out to attempt to heal the wounds. Dema started to protest, knowing that her wounds were too far gone for healing. She knew that if Britt on her course, that she ran the risk of dying herself.

"Stop..." she said and attempted to push away, but was far too weak. Britt held fast and continued working her spirit into Dema's wounds, healing her from the inside out.

In a last effort to stop her, Dema reached out and felt for the hilt of her sword. Like her, she knew it was broken beyond repair. She sat quietly for a moment, gathering up all the energy she could. She would have to act quickly before her love saw what she was doing, she had to be swift to ensure Britt wouldn't try to heal it.

If one of them were to die, it wouldn't be her sweet smelling troublemaker.

If you want to see the non-glowy version, you can find it Here.

Commission for my wifey, whom asked for a sequel to a previous commission (link found at the top). There will be one more after this.

Dema and Katur © My star-crossed lover/svarta-perlan svarta-perlan
Brittanu, story, and art © Me/Jessica Conkling-Alvis/seasaidh

DO NOT USE without our permission.