16.7
Gem coughed hard then took another heavier breath, the sound of the air in her chest and then passing through her bones was still soggy. Wet and bubbling in ways that did not feel right at all.
Ugh she hated this part, but at least she would be fine in a moment.
She took in an even deeper breath, holding it this time, filling her chest as hard as she could, clenching so that it didn't move into her bones and out through her nose. She moved her fingers as her long time friend had guided her too, flicked her tail, spoke in a whisper of a breath, more shaping her mouth over the old Ulog Hai words then actually uttering them.
But the first spell Tsulogothulan had taught her did not really need the full voice, not after Gem had etched the sorcery into her throat, lips and tongue through repetition for so many years.
She focused inside herself, on the soppy bubbly fluid which was leaving her lungs unable to take a full breath, gently, oh so gently. There was so much inside the body that was supposed to be water, that had to be wet.
Only the salty, sappy gunk that Gem couldn't quite get out of her lungs needed to respond to the working, nothing else. Her chest was held still now, breath stopped, she’d never dared to even try this with anyone else.
Not without having practiced with all of herselves together to feel and know what she was touching, not without the assurance that her Wyrmsight had given her for exactly what she was doing.
There, as much as she dared, grasp, direct and pull, it came up her chest, crawling, tickling, Gem didn't dare breath or cough now, not with such a delicate working happening inside her.
Not until the crawling peeling feeling moving inside completely left her chest, was building up in her throat in all its tickling, flowing, burning aggravation. Only once it was only in her throat did she cough again, hack, heave.
It always felt like she was vomiting, chest compressing hard, blowing air up behind the moving scummy filth that had built up in her lungs, and then finally horrid and gummy and salty with a hint of iron that told her she’d not been as gentle as she should have been.
But even that and the itching scratch deep behind her ribs was worth it.
The heavy splat of pink and green and yellow goo mingled in viscous spit that she had managed to pull up out of her lungs.
It was far too little then she thought it had any right to be, the effort and blessed relief of feeling her chest clear had her thinking it should be more than half a hen’s egg of muck. After how much effort she had to struggle through breathing with it inside her you’d think it would have the good manners to be enough to fill a piss pot!
Still! finally Gem’s chest was clear again! She could breath deeply and fully and no longer felt an awful slushy bubbling in her bones, and it was only with a few hints of blood. If pattern holds she should be able to go another two or three days without suffering from her breaths being half as vitalizing as they were supposed to be!
“Gem! Hurry up! We are losing the noonday heat, not all of us can stave off the cold with wyrmish sorcery! We need to get our blood pumping and our blades swinging!”
Gwenn’s voice came in through the window, rising shrilly from the courtyard where Jadwiga and her had already prepared for today’s bout.
The eldest wyrmspawn picking up the pot with the evidence of the latest kind of uncomfortable muck that this body seemed insistent on making every day. Gem hurried to empty it down the dumping spout. She couldn't delay any longer, Imre had been getting better in the ‘family bouts’ and he might actually beat them if she wasn't at her best!
He’d improved enough that Gwenn now very nearly thought it was fair for her and her betrothed to pair off against Gem and whichever of the twins was staying in Rochford while the other stayed in Valasect to write out of the missives.
But only nearly, she still complained vehemently how unfair either twin was when fighting beside the smallest of the spawn. She still outright refused to a match with Imre and her against both of the twins.
“I’m Coming Gwenn! Best be ready for us! We’re going to best you again today!”
She had to pull on her wyrm flame to keep her throat from cracking in pain, but that was fine. Jewel’s largest self would be arriving this evening and that would be more than enough to keep her stores full for another few days.
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Down and around the familiar hallways of Fort Rochford she went, running as she and Gwenn had when they were both children, as Gem still had to run even as her sister had grown up and out in ways that she was growing fairly confident this body never would.
Her breathing steady, whistling like it should, perhaps a little pained, she really needed to be more careful with that working. Tsulogothulan had been insistent that it was dangerous to pull hard on water other than air or what was soaking into clothes.
But she’d been doing it for a year without much incident. It was more of the same, just a little bit extra raw after a new kind of cleaning her body needed. Just another inconvenience, like ‘making water’ had been mortifying when she first had to do it, but now just part of life.
She pulled on a little more wyrm flame to fortify the air in her chest, the soft warmth of it keeping the chill from touching her at all, making sure that even breathing in the chill crispness of Rochford’s winter Autumn air would not tickle her throat enough to cough.
Jadwiga was waiting with both of their practice swords by the time she ran into the courtyard, if it was more than just family and staff in the fort this time of year Gem might have worried about appearances. But Imre and Monika were family now, Gwenn’s acceptance of the Betrothal last summer harvest celebration securing it.
The entire Rochford family would be making a trip to Arva for the wedding, departing in spring to make it well ahead of the hungry summer.
All of herselves were looking forward to seeing Count Thurzó. It had been so many years since they had last seen each other. Letters were all fine, and Imre was a delight to have close, seeing him and Gwenn courting one another as only her sister could have devised was hilarious.
But Gem missed him, well Jewel, her mother self missed him but that was the same wasin’t it?
The practice sword was tossed, she didn't even have to look, snatching the blade hilt of what for anyone else would have barely been more than a dagger. Maybe a shortsword at best, but was just the right length and balance to be swung as either a single or two handed grip for Gem.
She formed up with Jadwiga without a word needing to pass between them, although there was a twitch of her lankier, stretched out sister-self to suggest the hint of concern she had for her and the so far unique indignity of needing to peel muck out of her lungs every day.
Gem twitched her own tail, she was fine, no worse then the first time they had cleared her of the new muck.
Gwenn grinned brightly, giving Imre a glance, who returned it, the two of them were just so adorable, like ducklings the pair were, fierce, sword wielding ducklings that could hold up to all the graceful maneuvers Gem and either twin could muster.
There was no signal, no shout, all four of them were well practiced in this.
Her sister shifted, trying to hide her intent, Imre had trained beside her and there was a familiarity and camaraderie there between the betrothed that had been long seasons and grueling drills to form. But it was there, everything that Gwenn had confided in Gem she hoped for from her man.
Jadwiga was moving and Gem was supporting her, one going high, the other low, singling out Gwenn did not require any consideration, not even a glance. They both knew that they had over favored Imre in their last bout.
Like one body made two she was moving together with her sister self blades struck and were countered. Her opponents were nearly Gem’s equal, her sister and soon to be brother in law moved and countered her.
But where the spawn could act in concert while barely looking at each other the man and woman before Gem had to signal, rehearse, practice. A year of bouts had honed them and their instincts but they still were fighting at a disadvantage.
Blows rained down in complement to one another, strikes slipped through, parries made openings for one or the other.
Gem’s limbs sang, she felt her chest burning, her heart racing, the cool air and recently clear breath, letting her dance with her twin like she only could now, immediately after preparing, flow to bursting with wyrmflame, lungs scoured open.
A strike, a blow-
Gem fell, her heart was thundering, too fast, far too fast, her lungs pulled hard, she pulled on her wyrm flame to try and keep her lungs warm but the pain made her clench and cough.
“Gem?!”
Her sister’s voice was strange, distant, but shrill.
“Jadwiga?! What’s going on-”
Why was she shouting so quietly? Gem took gasping breaths, but they were wet and bubbly, her bones warbled and played a terribly boggy sound. The Rochford colors on Gwenn and Jadwiga’s dresses, on Jewel’s own dress were faded, that wasn't right, She wasn't supposed to be Jewel, and they were good wyrmspun wool.
She’d spun them herself-
No, not with these hands, these were too small-
Her chest burned, she breathed hard, it hurt but she had to breath, why did her chest burn, why did it itch? She coughed even harder and tasted iron on her tongue, there was a shrill ringing in her ears, then a muffling quiet.
It was soft and warm, no it was hot, she gasped but it bubbled, she coughed and it was wet on her lips and tongue, she let go of the wyrmflame and it felt the same, so hot, so warm.
So slow and quiet, Jewel remembered, her eyes were going dark around the edges.
Everything smelled of blood.
Ah, yes she remembered what this was.
But she’d fought the terror boar so long ago.
Why-