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Despite being a pretty silent woman, Yasha never liked silence. It got under her skin; made her feel like something was coming. Silence accompanied death. She learned that with her clan. When out on a hunt, the hunters’ silence was a forewarning to their strike. When Zuala died, Yasha was swallowed by the silence her missing presence brought. Then Molly died, and the silence was back. She was suddenly without the two people who made the most sound in her life. And it hurt. Yasha knew it couldn't be mere coincidence that everyone she loved was killed; there was something wrong with her. Yasha didn't believe in luck, good or bad, so being cursed was the only option.
And that probably hurt the most. The notion that it was Yasha, cursed to be alone with silence, that caused the deaths of Zuala and Molly just by being near them; by caring about them. By daring to drown out the silence that choked her. There had been, still was, so many things she wanted to say to both of them. Yasha wanted nothing more than to tell them how much she loved them because she knew that there was no such thing as expressing love too many times. But she couldn't do that. Yasha couldn't even be there for the funerals of the ones she loved most. But maybe those funerals would've been too much. Perhaps the silent grieving of everyone would've suffocated Yasha as she mourned Zuala and Molly.
Being with the Mighty Nein was good. In their weird way, they kept the silence at bay. Or maybe it wasn't strange. They were such a loud, chaotic group. Even Caleb, quiet as he was, was loud enough to drown out the itch on her skin. It didn't hurt that his Frumpkin was charming and felt wonderful to just pet. The Mighty Nein did so many things that it was hard to stay focused on grief. Especially when certain members caught her attention more than others.
Becoming pirates definitely was a distraction. Whatever the hell happened at Darktow absolutely kept her filled with noise.
But this? Sitting below decks, staring at an unknown ball the past seven days? This was not a distraction. This was just further proof that she was nothing more than a curse. A blight upon the world. Because it happened again. She was alone with the silence. Nervously, Yasha scratched her bicep. Were they dead? How long should she wait before it was sure they were killed? Why would they just leave without her?
They must have realised what a blight upon the world she was. How it was her cursed hands that lead to Mollymauk's death. They left, not wanting her around anymore. Yasha couldn't blame them.
She closed her eyes, feeling the urge to crawl into bed and sleep forever. She hadn't moved from her spot on the floor, but Yasha couldn't force herself to get up. She resigned herself to another night of sleeping in the room. It was tiring work, waiting. The emotional toll of waiting, of the crushing worry and the resigned acceptance, was almost worse than the silence. If they were dead, at least she'd be there for their funerals. It would be the first time she could make it to one.
Just as she was falling asleep, she was jolted awake a loud sound ripping through the silence. Her eyes opened to the sight of Beauregard, bloody and bruised. Yasha jumped to her feet and walked over.
"What happened?" she asked, eyes tracing over Beau's beaten form. "What... Where did you all go?"
Without thinking, she placed her hand on Beau's bicep, healing her as much as she could. Beau only looked up at her. Yasha had no idea what was going on in the human's head, but she had no time to ask anything else before Caduceus Clay suddenly appeared. He was less injured than Beau, but he still wasn't great.
"What happened?" Yasha asked, firmer and angrier. Something was seriously wrong. The silence was starting to die down, but it wouldn't die all the way until the rest of the Mighty Nein was there.
"Dragon," Beau said, staring at the ball still on the floor. "There was this, like, giant fucking dragon. I think... The others will come soon."
Yasha could tell that there was much more to what Beau was saying; she looked worried. Very worried. Before Yasha could ask (demand) for more information, Fjord appeared with a crack. He was panting and looking around frantically.
"Jester. Did she...?" he asked roughly, looking around. "Where is she? I thought she got out before I did." Dimly, over the chaos in the room, Yasha noted that his accent wasn't as pronounced. Which was strange, considering most people's accents only became stronger when they were distressed.
Caleb appeared with another crack, making all of their attention snap to him. He stumbled forward before looking around at the rest of them. Yasha was getting angry; what was going on? Her heart screamed over the silence for answers, but she knew she wouldn't get any soon. Not until everyone was together again.
There was another crack. Nott slumped to the ground, battered and an inch from death. A new air took over those present; Fjord and Beau began to look frantic as they waited (By the Stormlord did Yasha hate waiting) for what Yasha could assume would be Jester next. And she did appear next, similarly battered and bruised. Jester didn't say anything. She just fell to her knees next to Nott and hugged her close. Yasha could see tears, but she wasn't sure which person they came from.
Another crack came through as the new little one, Twiggy, popped in. She looked triumphant. Apparently, she'd killed the dragon they'd fought. Yasha didn't know what to make of it all. Quietly standing back, she watched the Mighty Nein wave goodbye to Twiggy before slinking off to their beds.
Leaving her.
But it was different this time because she knew she'd see them again. There wouldn't be a need for more death. More funerals. More silence. Yasha slowly made her way up to the deck and looked out at the ocean. Even though they were docked, and had been for days, she was comforted by the view of the sea. Storms happened a lot out there, and the Stormlord was loud enough to drown on the silence.
Yasha let out a soft puff of air, sighing sharply. She was still tired, and the energy from the earlier chaos was starting to seep out of her. She trudged to her quarters and sat down on her bed. She quietly hummed a song Zuala used to sing as she got ready for bed.
There'd be no silence for Yasha that night.