Chapter 10: Of Magic and Missions
1372 Words
It soon became a sick game of tag. A few more loud shouts and shrieks filling the tunnels alerted the young royal that his last line of defence had fallen. Rough turns and reckless stunts left Kaelonne with bruises and scratches, his energy fading as he swam aimlessly. His tail pained terribly, the wound from the siren’s claws had finally stopped bleeding, but it left the fins stiff and Kaelonne struggling more and more to keep the simple up-and-down motion that kept him moving.
Eventually, it became too much. Though he could hear them, he certainly hadn’t caught sight of his opponents yet. Sending a short, breathless prayer, he ducks into a dead-end cave, huddling behind a couple rocks as far into the darkness he could manage. It was not the best plan, putting his back to a wall, but it was the only plan his tired brain could think off.
Sleepy exhaustion pulled at him, forcing him to stretch his tail in hopes that the pain would keep him awake just a little longer. The warning shriek was coming closer, just one this time. Kaelonne held Cassian’s dagger to his chest, keeping his tired eyes on the entrance to the cave. It must be close to morning now, the waking currents whispering on his fins even so deep in the tunnels. It calmed him, his heartbeat slowing, the pain from his injuries finally easing slightly…
The young royal startles awake, the dagger in his hand lashing out wildly. A loud curse cuts between the chanting rattling in his head, scaring him enough to slam his back into the wall behind him. The sudden fright cleared his sight easily, but the fogginess in his mind was still clouded his judgement.
A young creature had their hands held up, a faint glow slowly fading from them. They looked at him curiously, not making any other movements than to shuffle their tail to keep herself somewhat floating. They had silver scales, much like Kaelonne, they were not as polished, but they weren’t quite dull either. They had long, wavy hair, with shells and bits of bead entwined in the braids. They didn’t look quiet Mermatian, but they clearly wasn’t quiet Sirinian either.
“Who… who are you?” Kaelonne mentally cursed at how weak his voice sounding, finally realising just how much blood he’d lost in his thoughtless swimming.
“Someone who’s trying to make sure you don’t lose the little life you have left.” They smile stiffly, a similar look to that Kaelonne held when he was trying his best to stop a sarcastic sentence from passing his lips. Their voice is mysteriously smooth and soothing, “My name is Viatrix, I’m remalia if you were wondering.”
“W-what are you doing?” She relaxes slightly, reaching out slowly to touch his tail. He could hardly find the energy in him to pull away and feels himself relax at her oddly warm hands.
“The others are almost here… you know that they will kill you if they find you, right.” She states it as a surety, not a question. Kaelonne lets out a pained, sharp whistle as she tugs at a broken fin, pulling him out of the unconsciousness that was calling him unnecessarily loud. “You sleep, you die.”
“There is not much I can do.” Kaelonne could finally feel the emotions welling up in him, threatening to choke off the already short supply of oxygen he was getting in his system, “I’m cornered, and I can’t fight in this state.”
“That’s it, you’re just going to give up just like that?” She doesn’t look mad, just curious.
“What do you propose I do.” Kaelonne bares his teeth slightly. “My home is in ruins, my brother is missing, the rest of my family might be dead. I just let my captain sacrifice himself to save me. I don’t want to give up, but there is nothing I can do.”
“Fight, you fool.” She says it like it’s the simplest answer in the world. “Your people need you now more than ever, you can’t just hole yourself up in some unknown tunnel and pray your that your death is easy. You are possibility the last royal, your people need you now more than ever.”
“Then what do you propose I do.” He hisses, slamming his hand on the rock behind him, head bowed. He refused to acknowledge the pain and blood now seeping from the injured limb.
“Fight.” Kaelonne pulls in a ragged breath, anxiety suddenly filling in his veins. It suddenly seemed impossible to breath, a warmth building in his chest, “Now, you fight harder than ever. You do what it takes.”
She wasn’t speaking any language he knew, yet somehow, he still understood her clearly. Viatrix looked at him unflinchingly, her purple eyes glowing. The warmth in his chest grew, the thoughts of Falkon practicing to become a guard, Eirian laughing as he notices a fish bump his side, Idris smirking as she watches her bothers get into trouble again, all his best memories burning into the forefront of his mind.
He couldn’t give up yet, he had so much more he wanted, so much he wanted to live for, to continue building these memories, to talk to Harley one more time. The warmth in his chest became painful, spreading to his arms and fins.
“Heal, prepare, learn, get the help you need and return.” Viatrix grabs his wrist, tugging at him. He followed, unable to get his voice to work.
They are back out into the tunnels, Viatrix slashing her claws at a Sirinian that dared to get to close. They navigated it almost thoughtlessly, but Kaelonne could almost feel how Viatrix knew her way, the currents growing fitful, as if trying to lend a helping hand to pull them up even faster.
His fins burned, the gills at his side positively ached, but all he could think about was the possibility of getting a second chance, to find out what she really going on instead of dying a useless death in the middle of know where.
They reached open water, Kaelonne could feel the grip on his wrist loosening as he watched the bright blue surface that felt so close, yet so far. Two sirens followed behind him, just out of reach, their teeth bared.
And he finally understood what he had to do.
He gasped as his head broke the surface of the water, panic surging though his veins as his chest spasmed uselessly. A wave slammed into him, sending him under again, his fading claws latching onto a broken plank of wood.
Liquid fire flowed through his veins, his unfamiliar legs barely twitching despite his desperate attempt to drag himself higher onto the swaying plank. The rain beat sharply on his face, the cold stinging the smooth, scale-less skin, his long hair catching on the splinters of the board and tugging at his scalp.
His lungs finally reacted to the air, spasming painfully and dispelling the water out from in them. He choked and spluttered as the painful feeling of air rushed down his throat, burning from its dryness. It pressed horribly on his ribs, like shards of glass threatening to shred him apart. His mind in a muddled chaos, he lets on a pained cry, baring the fangs that were no longer there. The sound rivals the thunder cracking in the sky as if challenging it.
His energy was spent, the lightweight armour and his weapons suddenly felt too heavy, to tight, his trembling arms protested under his weight. He let himself fall heavily on top of the plank, ear faintly picking up the sound of the pendant on the chain around his neck hitting the wood harshly.
His body aching, the winds of the storm whirling mercilessly, and the waves coming down on his head, he looked heavenward and truly prayed for the first time. He prayed to his deities for the help he knew might never come, prayed for the fear etched in his bones to finally settle, for the safety of his family and friends, for anything his muddled mind could think of.
A loud cry of surprise reached his ears, just as his shaky view of the world faded into black.
- Writer
