It wasn't until the ocean had withdrawn from it's storm did the first fisherman creep from his hut to check upon the boats that were safely tied to the harbor. Once in awhile, the ocean did get away with a boat or two, and it took time to build another one to feed their families the fish.
He almost stepped on her, the poor girl.
The stone harbor was had ended a few feet behind her, and luckily she hadn't fallen on the ground, but even so the mud that covered her face was sticky and made it difficult to breath while unconscious. The fisherman, a man that went by the name of Charles, had quickly checked the body first of any possessions. A long cloak, possibly from the Arab Countries was discolored by the exposure of the sun and the ripped leather did not give any value worth of anything. There were wooden beads across her neck, with thick coarse horsehair keeping them tied around her neck, and several more in her tangled hair that spoke of poverty.
It wasn't until Charles had found that she carried a small bag did he find worth of any value. There was a waterskin that was out of a good hide, and one that would replace his shabby one quite nicely. The other thing was that he found in the bag was three small bags of various spices that his wife would enjoy using and a stick that had some metal encrusted on the outside of it. There really wasn't much to do with metal in this village, there wasn't a blacksmith around that would be able to make do with the small amount of metal that the stick held, and probably held some meaningful memories to this half dead stranger.
Charles tucked the waterskin and spices under his shirt, and went to go find his wife. He wasn't stealing, no, this was the price of saving the stranger's life, and giving the girl a place under their roof for a few days until they could journey wherever she was going to.
He came back with his son only ten minutes later, and between the two of them they extracted the girl from the sticky mud and carried her towards their home. His wife was heating water, and wetting rags to wipe the mud off of the poor girls face, and Charles was pushed out of his house and he went to go do his original duty. Checking on the boats, seeing if the storm last night had any damage to them and to take them out into the water to go scavenge anything floating in the sea and maybe bring in a few fish.
The strange girl was certainly something the ocean had thrown out of the sea, and Charles wasn't sure if it was because the sea had seen the town a small mercy, or if because it couldn't handle something that dangerous in it's dark waters.
...
It was warm. And dry.
She opened her eyes, blinking at the brightness that invaded her senses. The aching sense of the world not rocking under her feet was powerful enough to send her from the bed that she lay in.
"Hold up! Don't move, at least not yet!" Somebody said, and a hand rested on her shoulder stabilizing her. This was different from the last few days, where she was alone in the vast stretch of sea and the only company she had the was the small smack of a wave against her boat. A cup was pressed to her lips, and she opened her mouth to greedily suck in the cold and refreshing water that didn't taste like salt in any way. The first swallow seemed like a drought had ended and she sucked inasmuch as she could in her next mouthful, but couldn't swallow because she had to cough from the sudden surge of water.
"Shh, that's alright, deary. It's okay. Drink slowly." A warm voice and a rubbing sensation on her back kept her from coughing again as she slowly sucked in another swallow of water.
Her head throbbed with each heartbeat, and her legs felt like they were on fire. So did her face. The small sailboat she had used to escape didn't give much shade during the hot hours of the day. And the few meager supplies that she had, weren't enough to hold on for more than three days. By her estimation, she had probably been out on the waters for the last... eight days.
No wonder she hurt.
The water had stopped streaming into her mouth, and she blinked up at the woman hovering over her. It was an elderly woman, of that. Her brown hair was streaked with gray, and wrinkles lined her eyes and mouth, but even so she could still see the beauty the woman held.
"Th-thank you." It hurt to talk, like she had a fever and her throat was burning inside. And she didn't sound good either. It mostly hurt her head when she talked.
"You shouldn't talk." The woman scolded, waving a finger down at her. "I'll simply go get another bucket of water from the well. Please, do not get up. I know your kind, always go go go. Well, if you get up from this bed, missy, we will be havin' words."
She stared up at the woman and mutely nodded her head, then stopped as it made the lights behind her eyes flash with pain. She grimaced. The woman tutted her, before grabbing a bucket and walking out of the room.
Immediately, the girl pushed herself up from the bed and gazed around. She had been on a boat for eight days. Five without food or water, no shade from the unforgiving sun above. Yes, she had managed to escape on a sailboat that had promptly broken down after two days at sea. It was built only to withstand the peaceful harbor of the last town she had visited. Yes, all of this had happened. The Elements must have taken pity on her, although she had no memory of it whatsoever.
But that didn't answer the question of, where was she?
And was she safe at the moment.
Her thoughts were lost, twisting and turning until she took in a gasping breath and patted at her bad. Or at least, where her bag used to be.
Oh no. Oh no. It couldn't be gone. Not after all of the work and-
Her bag was on the table across the room.
Without a spare thought, she stumbled to her legs, almost crying out at the stinging pain of the peeling sunburns, and made it to the table. She leaned heavily against the wooden surface, trying to elevate her weight off of her feet as her fingers scrambled at the opening of the bag. Immediately she sighed in relief as she caught sight of the wand. Made up of plain walnut wood, it had simple carvings that had lead wrapped around it.
She would have been in trouble if she had lost it. Clutching it tightly to her chest, she stumbled her way back to the bed, before letting her body crash head first on it. Which was a mistake. New aches and pains came apparent to her, and she rolled over onto her back.
Closing her eyes, she checked the magical reserves that rested in her chest, and found then nearly depleted. Her magic must've been sustaining her during her five day fasting period.
"What did I say about getting up?" Came a loud voice, which caused the girl's eyes to open, then blink up at the woman who stood above her. She had returned.
"Not to."
"Exactly. What do I find when I come back from the well? You, clutchin' a silly little stick. Tell me, was it worth it? Does it worth more than your aches?"
Yes.
The girl blinked up at the woman, every second her eyelids feeling like stones here hanging on them.
"Oh, and now you're tired. This is what happens when you don't listen to me." The womans lilting accent carrying the girl further into the thoughtless peace of sleep. "You get tired out too fast."
It was hard to keep her eyes open. All of her energy was gone. Her wand was in her hand, in a safe place at the moment, and definitely not on a boat. It was difficult to try and stay awake.
"Aye, I suppose it's time for you to sleep anyways. Your body is healing, and there isn't much you can do more at the moment. Sleep girl. You'll tell me your story when yer awake." There was a rustling movement, and a cold cloth dabbed at her forehead. "Sleep I say. Sleep."
The Witch finally succumbed to the darkness, falling quickly into a deep slumber.
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