Thoughts best unspoken [Kaelon!]

[~::Chelsea::~]

Chelsea sat down on the side of the lake in a deep red dress with a gold cord around the middle. She was glad that the dress was floor length, grateful for the warmth. The wind blew her hair around a bit and she sighed. She carried a small leather shoulder bag, containing a pen and her journal. She didn't have time to put it somewhere safe. She needed to get out of the castle.

She gazed at the crystal water and wondered what things would have been life if she had attened Hogwarts as a child. Would she have had the same horrific experiences? She ground her teeth. She didn't come here to think about that.

She took off her shoulder bag and shoes, and waded into the lake, still wearing her dress. She didn't realize that her bag had opened and her journal half slipped out, in plain sight if anyone came by.

When she was halfway submerged in the lake, she dove under the water slowly and held her breath. It was relaxing. Very relaxing. She muttered a soft charm under the water and she was able to breathe somewhat under the water.

"[red]Lumos[/red]" she said pointing her wand in front of her. Now able to see in the darkness, she went deeper into the lake, thinking the things under there wonderful, and hoping not to run into any michevious creatures, like merpeople.

[Kaelon N. Reeve]

Kaelon meandered slowly across the Entrance Hall, rubbing his left shoulder with his right hand. He had fallen asleep on the stairs again--a terrible habit of his, but stairs were one of his favorite places to sit, lounge, or otherwise relax--and consequently had one of his recurring nightmares he had been getting recently, memories of his younger days.

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, Kaelon tried to force the images out of his mind, but they kept replaying themselves, over and over... Swaying suddenly, he reached out, placing one hand on the front doors to lean on for support. A small, frustrated sigh escaped his lips, and he slumped back against the door, sinking to a sitting position.

He just couldn't seem to get rid of his past. Damned memories kept pestering him, wouldn't let him leave his life behind. Kaelon rubbed his temples. Fresh air. That would help, just maybe.

Outside, the air was delightfully cold and clear, the scenery having that odd scrubbed-clean look that late winter gives it. Kaelon took a deep breath, holding it for several seconds and then expelling it in a large whoosh, and headed down across the lawn. Shivering slightly, he fastened his slightly-rumpled black button-down shirt and rolled his sleeves back down, though he forgot, as was his habit, to button the cuffs. He wandered in circles that slowly increased in size, until the path of one of his circles happened to be interrupted by the lake. Kaelon stood there for a long time, stopped at the edge of the lake, just staring out and into the water.

Perhaps... I need to write in my journal again. Maybe Chelsea's right, and writing all this down will help to clear it out of my head.

With what seemed like a disproportionate effort, he wrenched himself back to walking, pacing slowly around the shore. Kaelon had managed to lose himself in thought again when he came across a small oddity: a pair of shoes and a leather bag, both of which he recognized as Chelsea's, as well as the journal that had apparently spilled out of the bag at some point. But... shoes? Where would Chelsea be, she wasn't one to leave her things lying around... His eyes found the trail of barefoot footprints leading from her belongings to the water's edge, and he understood. Glancing back down at her things, he crouched down, picking up her journal. Tilting it back and forth in his hands, he wondered what she had written since coming to Hogwarts. It made him curious, holding the book, but, tempting as it was, he tucked it safely back into her bag, and sat back in the sand, wondering how long she had been swimming. After a time, he fell back in the sand, having dozed off again--the man hadn't gotten much sleep last night.

[[Ew, GROSS, I can't write today. Looks like the rest of my updates are waiting until a later date.]]

[~::Chelsea::~]

Chelsea was about to come back towards the surface of the water when she saw a light shining in the water. It's probably just a grindylow she thought. She didn't think it could do much harm, because the whole purpose of their deception was to drown you, and the charm on her prevented that.

She went towards the shimmer in the blackness of the water, kicking her feet and letting a slight chill run over her body as she was chilled to the bone in the cold water. The only thing was, the closer she got, the more she grew wary of the light, suspecting that it was not a grindylow....but she could help herself from moving towards it.

She was overwhelmed with a childish curiosity that prevented her from having any sense of rational thought. She was just of the other side of a bunch of seaweed, and the little current blew the greenery around like wheat in the wind.

She peered through the plants at the light, and saw that the light, was actually a light to a place. Under the lake. It did not occur to Chelsea that this place was the home of the merpeople that lived in the Black Lake. Instead, she thought it some sort of Atlantis.

She swam cautiously towards the place, and then stopped immediately when the water changed around her. Turning her head, she saw a shape vanish behind a rock, and then another out of the corner of her eye. A sense of inevitable doom washed over her and in her panic, she took out her wand.

Bad idea.

Merpeople--as Chelsea didn't know--did not like to have magic used on them. Nor did they like intruders, or being threatened. Perhaps this is why she unconsciously felt that her ruin was imminent.

At once she was seized by a merman from behind, and she thrashed wildly. Merpeople were not kind, and she was overcome with a new sense of terror as her wand fell from her hand and sank unto the sand below.

Above the water on the sand, a light scratching sound could be heard. For Chelsea's journal, was not a normal journal. It had been charmed to automatically write down her important thoughts when she thought them, and it was now doing so.

Murderous waves come crashing loudly,
Roaring up the steep cliff wall,
Driving down to meet the coral,
Amidst what sounds like siren calls.
Circling `round to gain momentum,
With monstrous force, to bruise and rip
On the bones of former victims,
This man now within its grip.
The sea foams with hideous laughter,
As if possessed with demonic joy;
Beating, battering, unrelenting,
This soul like a worthless toy.
He calls out for one to save him,
But mocking winds drown out his cry;
On the rocks, his ship is keeling,
On his mind a mystery lies.
Where's the lighthouse he remembers,
That once shone upon this shore,
Guiding him beyond this peril,
To safe harbor and the moor?
Hope is lost as death looms nearer
To make his bed in a watery grave;
Merciless waves seize their captive
As the ocean takes her prey.
But ere he's pulled beneath the water,
Moonlight bathes the rocky bluff,
And what he saw struck him with horror,
As his trusting heart is cuffed.
For there he saw the lighthouse towering
As before, on stormy nights;
But now, in Stygian darkness,
Gazes pitiless on his plight.
While the sea lifts high its victim
To crush his life on rocky shoals,
He screams words at his betrayer
That only God in heaven records.
"Curse and curse the worthless lighthouse,
Strong, but dark, amidst the storm,
And the keeper sleeping in it,
By whose neglect, to hell I'm borne."
Last, the ocean takes the plaintiff
And holds him `til his struggles cease,
Then hands him through eternity's door,
>From where there is no release.
The sailor is another witness,
Passing on through endless night,
That the watchman who was sleeping
Is guilty of soul-damning slight.

Such were the words that one would find if they saw the journal. For some reason, that was the only thought that Chelsea had.

[Kaelon N. Reeve]

Ew.

Kaelon had awoken again, finding--much to his distaste--the entire side of his face covered in sand. Brushing himself off as best he could, he stood and shook sand from his clothes as well, wondering just how long he had slept; the light hadn't changed much. Kaelon was unsure what had woken him--nothing appeared to have changed in the space of time he had been asleep: there was still no sign of Chelsea, her things still sat where they had been, it was silent except for the slight lapping of the water and that weird skritching noise. Kaelon frowned slightly. what was that noise, anyway? He glanced around, looking for maybe some small animal digging in the sand, but the noise seemed to be coming from Chelsea's bag.

He was reluctant to invade, but... Kaelon bent down, flipping open the bag, and the source of the noise became instantly obvious: her journal lay open inside the bag, Chelsea's pen busily etching away at the decreasing blank space of the page.

What in the... Kaelon looked around and over both shoulders, wondering if he was perhaps dreaming again. Then again... A self-recording notebook and pen did seem the sort of thing Chelsea would employ. She never cared for sitting idle for long periods of time. But what--and why--on earth would she be writing while swimming in the lake? He frowned, eyes traveling over the lines with a slightly disturbed curiosity he couldn't hold back.

[~::Chelsea::~]

Chelsea was thinking that it was a good thing that she had awhile before the charm that allowed her to breathe wore off, but then she glanced at the waterproof watch on her wrist that appeared as her dress moved in the water. She only had five minutes left. She hadn’t realized that she had been under so long!
Caught up in all of her thoughts, hadn’t realized that a merman was speaking to her. Not that it mattered, she couldn’t understand merspeech.
“[teal]Human. He said follow him or he’ll not hesitate to kill you.[/teal]” came a voice. Chelsea turned her head and noticed for the first time that she had a spear to her back. She glanced around and saw that it was a young female mermaid that had spoken to her. The mermaid looked like Ariel off of the children’s movie, but meaner….deadlier.
“[red]Gotcha.[/red]”
Chelsea didn’t usually need telling twice, but a glance at the spear to her back and a glance at her wand made her do something stupid…that and the lack of time that she had until she would eventually drown. Very quickly, Chelsea hit the spear from her back and dove for her wand. As soon as her fingers closed around it she cursed an approaching merman and turned to swim, getting slashed from her shoulder to the bottom of her rib cage. “Ariel” swam after her, the spear now in the mermaid’s hand.
Chelsea’s hand barely grazed the surface of the water when something sharp hit her in the back. She let out a scream that turned to a gargle as the spell wore off and she swallowed water. Chelsea saw that the water around her was turning pink. She had been stabbed, and she started to fall slowly lower into the water.

Above, the pen wrote the words “almost there” repeatedly as Chelsea neared the surface of the water. Then very suddenly, then pen broke and exploded ink all over the page.

[Kaelon N. Reeve]

A stream of profanity escaped Kaelon's lips as the notebook (more specifically the pen) suddenly exploded in his hands. And in attempting to avert his head from the ink splatter, his peripheral vision caught a tiny splash on the lake, a flash of what looked like a hand--just the fingertips--and a swirl of reddish... Red! Kaelon swore again. He had heard of the merpeople in the lake, and they occasionally fought, he knew, but mers didn't bleed red.

Disregarding all else, Kaelon flung himself into the lake, whipping his wand out of his pocket. Submerging, he blinked to clear his vision, though he was still moving even as he couldn't see. A large red plume colored the water before him, shortly spiraling down... And there was skin. Pale skin and red cloth among the diluted red of the water. Kaelon thrust himself downward, and suddenly the Mers loomed out to greet him. He mostly ignored them, only shooting hexes at random to keep them at bay, striving to reach the sinking body, apparently unconscious.

That's her. It must be her. I can't let her down, not again, it's all that's happened for the last week... Kaelon pleaded with himself, his muscles, and the water both aiding and obstructing him, to allow him to move faster to reach her.

A searing pain in his hip, his lower back, another in his shoulder, two in his legs... The Mers had overcome their initial shock at his appearance and some made bold enough to strike at him with their crude spears. Kaelon spun, in the course of his circle first screaming a curse which came out only as bubbles at the Mers, but served it's purpose in stunning them all with a massive electric shock (those less affected quickly scattered, not quite gone, but... Mers were skittish things), and second, another spell...

"ACCIO!!!"

The body--it was Chelsea!--flew towards him, and he looped an arm around her waist, turning again to struggle painfully upward again, back to the light, now seeming so far above him, so unreachable when the water was couding even more with blood that was his this time... Kaelon kicked out, sharp white pain lancing through his body, and he was out of air. Struggling still to keep his mouth shut, trying not to inhale water, kicking, straining upwards, he could swear the surface was so near, but it was so, so dark, and he couldn't move, water coming into his lungs and the Mers were gathering again and--

Kaelon's hands and knees scraped sand. He exploded into the air, coughing and hacking, very nearly puking his empty guts into the shallows, and without realizing he was still going, hauled Chelsea up over his shoulder, stumbling and staggering clear of the water, he didn't even know where he was, but she was safely on the ground, and he couldn't see anymore, but ...he was still bleeding, and... ...air... ...He couldn't see anything but black...

Kaelon felt himself hit the sand, and nothing more.

[~::Chelsea::~]

Chelsea lay unconscious through the whole ordeal, her wand slipping from her fingers and nestling beneath the sand. She awoke sometime later with a brilliant cough of water.

At first she thought that she was dead. She didn’t remember ever emerging from the water. But then she felt the pain. There was no pain after death….was there? She opened her eyes and realized that she was on the sandy beach of the Black Lake. She was still damp, but drier than before, so she figured that she had been out of the water for around twenty minutes.

She was going to sit up, but she found that even blinking hurt. Those Mers hadn’t exactly been gently, even before she was so brutally attacked. Her breathing was a bit harsh and rapid. It hurt like hell to inhale or exhale at this point. Tears of pain stung her eyes and she clenched her hand. Searing pain rippled through her as she did so, starting at her shoulder.

Her fingers brushed skin, and fighting the intense anguish, she turned her head. “[red]Kaelon,[/red]” she whispered, her voice coarse. Willing herself to move, she rolled over, letting out a cry of pain before she sank back into unconsciousness. Her head now rested on his chest, her hand enclosed in his.

[Kaelon N. Reeve]

The sound of his name penetrated the muffling blackness...

Kaelon blinked awake, and at once wished he hadn't. Excruciating pain wracked his body, throbbing sharply, stabbing through him. He bit his lip hard and squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the urge to yell out. It took several minutes to master himself enough to think clearly.

He was having a hard time breathing, his breath gurgling in his windpipe and his chest feeling as though it were compressed under some stifling weight. He tried to draw in a deep breath (his chest felt as though it would tear apart at the seams), and, oddly the weight shifted. Bemused, he craned his eyes down, lifting his head up the barest bit (Ow!) so he could see--Chelsea somehow, was lying on his chest. Still unconscious? If she was still unconscious, how had she gotten there? Kaelon couldn't really remember anything after coming out of the water, but... he didn't think she had been on top of him... Unless she had awoken, and fallen unconscious again. He realized suddenly that her hand was curled loosely in his palm. ...She had definitely awoken at some point. But how long ago, and how long had he been here?

Suddenly he erupted in a violent and agonizing fit of coughing, unable to stop, hacking and gagging on water and probably a lot of blood he was coughing up. Rolling ungracefully out from under Chelsea and a few feet away, he strained to prop himself up on his hands and knees (Ow!!!!), retching, and emptied himself of a large amount of water, blood, and stomach acid.

He coughed weakly a few more times, then his shaking arms dropped him back on the sand next to Chelsea. He wondered again how long they had been out here. His clothes were still a little soggy, but his hair was mostly dry; he guessed they had been lying here an hour perhaps? They had both lost a lot of blood: the sand around them was stained a disgusting color with it. Mustering up a massive amount of strength against the overwhelming pain--it would only last him a second--he located and snatched up his wand. Healing spells were not something he frequently employed, but... His previous life had taught him much about first aid.

Holding his wand in his right hand (his indominant hand), he raised his arm slowly (Ow!) and pointed his wand at first his left shoulder, where there was what felt like a deep gash, and murmured, "Episkey." Once done, he pulled his shirts (his collared shirt and the undershirt underneath) off, allowing himself better access to his other injuries. He repeated this pattern, only with his now (mostly) usable left hand, on the stab wound in the back of his hip, and his twice-slashed right leg, closing up the wounds as best he could, even if they did leave long ugly red weals. He could at least move now with minimal pain. The injuries could be properly taken care of later, when he could think more clearly to come up with a less rudimentary spell to use.

He turned to Chelsea, still laying facedown on the sand, sitting himself next to her body. There was an ugly slash across her back, running fairly short but deep. Kaelon restrained himself from grinding his teeth, enraged at the Mers for injuring her.

The sliced-open fabric of her dress was stuck to her skin with dried blood, so Kaelon busied himself gently cleaning it away with a trickle of water from his wand tip, peeling the now-wet fabric back from the wound. Once cleaned, it did not appear nearly so terrible, but it was still a nasty injury, perhaps eight or nine inches in length and and inch deep at the deepest point, and it looked to have slightly nicked the bone of one of her vertebrae. Kaelon spent a moment considering a better spell to use, and set to work slowly and carefully closing and healing the wound, taking utmost care not to leave any trace of a scar on the smooth flesh of her back.

Done at last, perhaps an hour after he had first awoken, Kaelon heaved a sigh. He was not sure when Chelsea would awake, but... They'd best go inside. He retrieved her shoes, bag, and journal (the ink all over it had dried by now, so he placed it and her shoes in the bag and slung it over his shoulder) from a short distance off, then returned for her. He picked her up gingerly, cradling her in his arms and doing his best to keep her dress covering her, apparated into the castle.

((Moving the thread to the Gryffindor tower, same title and whatnot. Please excuse the liberties taken with describing her injury, let me know if you want me to change any of it, or anything that has occurred.))