Chapter 45
TYNAN
“The sacred water! We need the water!” I grabbed Alina’s hand, unwilling to let go and guided her through the crowd.
“I have some,” a voice responded, and I immediately seized the bottle from an older man.
“Frid,” Alina said.
“Don’t mind me. Help him.” Her face was covered with blood, but her eyes were wide with fear.
I had never seen her so vulnerable, so real.
“Frid,” Victor whi?spered, as the three of us lowered him to the ground.
“Don’t speak. Don’t speak.” Frid clasped his hand.
“I was a fool. I wanted to ask you . . . out . . . I went to your room, but . . . you were with someone. I could . . . not . . . bare it.”
“Hold here!” I looked at Alina, she followed my instructions, pressing her hand to the gushing wound on his neck.
“He’s bleeding out,” she said as I wrestled with the bottle, trying to get the cap off.
“Damn it, Victor,” Frid whispered.
“I better ask you now,” Victor smiled, his teeth were colored with streaks of crimson.
I clenched my jaw, unable to even allow the thought that it may not work.
Alina moved her hand and I carefully poured the liquid onto the wound. Blood had soaked his shirt and it seemed like the temple water was unable to get in contact with the skin.
“You have to stay conscious,” I said, forcing him to take a sip of water.
“Frid! Keep talking!” Alina looked up.
“Open your eyes!” Frid shook him, but Victor was losing consciousness. “Don’t you dare die on me. I will hunt you down, and you will not have a peaceful day in this life or any other. I swear, I will make your life a nightmare.”
I sat back, looking at his face that turned artificially pale. Alina covered her mouth with her bloodied hand, tears streamed down her face. We could only wait.
“Open your eyes! I’ll tell you right now, from now on . . . don’t even think about other women or, I swear to the gods, I will cut it off!” Frid cried. Her head lowered to his chest and loud whimpers shook her body. “I hate you. I hate you,” she kept repeating until her voice broke.
I looked up at the sky, unable to bear this new pain deep in my chest.
“What?” Frid lifted her head looking at Victor.
“Don’t . . . cut it . . .off . . . just yet,” he whispered so quietly that at first I thought that I was hearing things.
“It worked.” Alina exhaled.
I looked at his neck, the bleeding stopped and new skin was lacing the open wound.
“It worked?” Frid looked almost wild.
I sat back, paralyzed, drained, incapable of moving or thinking clearly.
Alina wrapped her arms around my neck, her body shook with tears.
Once it was confirmed that Victor would survive, two men from the clan carried him back to the castle while Frid followed closely, still holding his hand.
But the work, however, was far from finished. All across the fields, the bodies of civilians and clan warriors were gathered and prepared for burial, and I knew I had to return to the place where Sol still remained.
“Ty,” Alina whispered, and her hand found mine.
Carefully I pressed her hand to my lips, more than anything wishing to tell her how much I needed her right now.
“I just returned from the castle.” One of the clan warriors stopped right in front of me, I frowned meeting his eyes. “Hanoch is dead.”
“What?” At first, I thought I misheard him.
“It’s true. I saw his body.” Alina studied my face.
“That makes you our new clan leader,” the same man raised his voice for everyone to hear.
He extended his hand, and there it was – the sword that had been passed down through my family for generations.
The black Arulian steel, said to have once belonged to the first Dragon King.
Slowly, I took it from his outstretched hand, its weight settling heavily in my palm, stirring a restlessness deep in my chest. I loathed this sword with every fiber of my being.
It had belonged to my father, and then to my mother after his death.
Yet here I was, drawing the blade, my eyes locked on its jagged, serrated edges.
“Aye! Aye! Aye!” sounded from every direction.
“What do we do now?” the same man asked.
I shifted my gaze from the outlines of the mountains to the warriors who awaited my orders.
Hanoch was dead. Once again, I had failed to save him.
But unlike the visions, this time nothing could be done.
Everything that had happened was real. His children had just lost their father.
I placed my hand on the hilt of my sheathed sword, wincing as a sharp pain shot up my arm to my shoulder.
The wound had not fully healed. I needed more sacred water, but I would rather die than take any more when there were others who desperately needed it.
It did not matter how I felt. I had to protect the people – families, children – everyone was depending on me now.
“We’ll search for the wounded first. Gather all the water you can find and organize the help – one group here in the valley, another at the castle.”
“We don’t have enough water.”
“Assign three capable warriors who can fly to the temples right away.” I said, and everything around me came into motion.
I shifted my gaze back to Alina, who squeezed my hand. Somehow even without words I knew, she was there to give me all the support I would ever need. With her by my side I could never be indecisive, hesitant, or weak.
“Monsters!” someone shouted, pointing toward the mountains.
I clenched my jaw, watching the silhouettes in the sky. Behind the clouds and the setting sun were the unmistakable shapes of hundreds of dragons.
When they were close enough, I could clearly see the dragons with light almost translucent looking scales.
The white clan. Somehow they managed to find us.
Something was not right. My eyes distinguished a dark shape that flew ahead of them all. Someone from our clan was leading them here, through the passages . . .