Dacian flipped through the pages as fast as he could, grateful Marie had left the book where only he could find it. It proved to be very useful for what he was going to do. He moves to the ritual circle, placing the book down in the center of the circle, with a small bag of items and moves quickly, placing candles in their respective places.
He was shaky as he lights each candle, calling upon each element to join the circle. He knew he didn't have much time. He sits in the center, calling Nebula over. The bird rests in his lap, as he lights the final candle in front of him. Then he begins the chant.
"Audite verba mea, audite clamorem meum. de tormento nostro salva nos, et incolumes nos suscipe. ut ita dicam."
He continues to chant, as each element surrounds them. The smell of burning wood. The feeling of a crisp autumn breeze. The smell of rain. The smell of clean dirt and mud. And the most familiar scent.. to him.. the smell of home. Old books and incense. To any other person, it would be their favorite scent. Fire, Air, Water, Earth, Spirit.
The area changed quickly, but Dacian didn't stop until they were somewhere safe. Only then did he stop, his energy drained. Nebula nudges him, and he slumped, panting. Nebula hops up, nudging him again. He mumbles, feeling heavy, exhaustion setting in. Everything hurt and he felt nauseous. The candles had burned out at this point. "Nebula, go get help." He instructs, and the bird flies up, in search of the help he needed.
She spots three men, and dives, into them, cawing. She lands on one of the men's shoulders, nudging him and taking flight again, circling overhead and trying to get his attention. She dives again, tugging on his jacket with her talons, before flying through the trees nearby, trying to stay in sight.
Dacian was whispering, quietly, as Nebula returns. The elemental scents faded as he dismissed them. Pain spread through his body and he moves, slowly, onto his back. "Spirit.. stay. Help me bear the pain." He mumbles. Then he noticed Nebula had returned. "Good girl, Nebula.. you've returned.. where is.." he slowly sits up, wincing at the pain on his side. Then he saw the other. "Nebula, we aren't in France anymore.."
Spirit was translating his words, so he could be understood. He moved, to his knees, kneeling in the center of the circle, and raising both hands up in the air. A show of not being a threat. He was unarmed. "I will not harm you. My name is Dacian Livingston. I am a wiccan. I require medical assistance." He looks to Nebula. "Don't move any closer to him. We need to show we are harmless."
Nebula hops up, onto his shoulder, preening her feathers with her beak. She nudges him. His clothes were dirty, grass stained, with blood on his shirt. His pants and shirt were torn.
He was injured, and nearly malnourished from his time spent in jail before his escape. He'd hardly had time to tend to his wounds or even eat.. which was another reason why this spell was impacting him with such intensity. He shifts his weight, trying not to wince in pain, but it was obvious.. he felt wet... And warm.. on his side. Blood. He knew it was.
The adrenaline that had kept the pain at bay, from his escape, was wearing off, now that he realized he was mostly safe. His hand goes to his side, to aid in the pain.. then he noticed just how much blood he had lost. Spirit had been keeping him from bleeding out too fast. He pulls his hand back, looking at the blood. His whole hand was covered. "Spirit, don't let me bleed out before I can patch myself up.."
He felt the effects of the element, slowing the bleeding and helping the healing process. It drained him, though, each time he called on the element. The smell was much stronger around him. He didn't know what the other was smelling, but knew it would be a familiar smell. He felt remarkably calm, with the element around him.
@foretoldchaos for the blackwells
