Chapter 26
Emmie
THE CHAIN - LEXXI SAAL, NOCTON ?
The roar of the flames, the shrieks of the dying, are all enough for me to be lost in the chaos. He moves to turn back, but it's already too late. A clear foreshadowing as the flames of his swords damper and only his silhouette remains.
I see the first of her barbs enter his shoulder, the second pierces the side of his abdomen as he twists too late.
The next Ananea, a man, scrambles on top of them and shoves his barbs down through Portarius' shoulders and arms. The force triggers Portarius to lose his footing, and he crashes to the ground, landing hard on his knees.
A third scrambles behind, spearing his calves, pinning his legs to the dirt.
He can't move. My warrior.
My voice tears the air as I watch his swords fall to the ground. He stares at me with everything he is, and as he fights against the barbs holding him in place, one hand moves to his chest, thumping it twice before the rest of the Ananea envelop him and he disappears from sight.
I search the space he was standing in only seconds ago, rapidly scanning the pile of Ananea for just a glimpse of him. A sign. But all I see is darkness. Black limbs feverishly moving all around as they climb over each other, trying to gain access.
A hum builds in my chest. A vibration stronger than any I've felt before. Another feeling growing alongside it, a building force needing to be freed. I claw at my chest, taking a final look at where Portarius had fallen.
This is not his end.
I tower out of the water, speeding higher than the tree tops, momentum squeezing the air from my lungs.
Our world burns around us, but as I take a dizzying glance down at the Gate, its surface ripples as though a torrent rains down upon it.
Clasping my chest, the pressure builds relentlessly, the bond between Portarius and me as clear as glass.
Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back as I'm lost to the pandemonium spreading throughout my body, my arms floating loosely by my sides.
Our bond, glowing brightly in my mind. It's like a triangle, one that connects the three of us in an unwavering strength, so if one falls, the other two can make up the difference.
The pressure suddenly changes. It no longer feels like my chest is going to implode.
Instead, I can feel every cell multiply, hear the blood flowing through my veins, as my body rapidly shifts into the vessel it needs to become to protect Portarius. My bonded.
My eyes fly open, and I've risen impossibly higher in the air, smoke billowing from the raging inferno.
A platform of water flows beneath me, as countless spirits hold me steady, my eyes catching sight of the scarred warrior, my guide.
Newly etched intricate tattoos spread from my fingertips as the final lock clicks open.
Swaying my hands, the Gates waters mirror the movement, tendrils rising as though by magic.
The spirits watch on, looking for my guidance as they prepare for battle.
The Ananea are so consumed in their destruction that not one of them has stopped to witness my transition, which if I do say so myself, was cool as fuuuck.
For a creature that holds so much power in its poison, they sure are dimwitted.
With lightning speed, I flick my wrist, a jet of water shooting out.
A searing hiss reverberates through the air the instant it hits the pile of Ananea, like a chemical reaction burning and melting through everything it touches.
The droplets, however, have a mission of their own, a simple directive to get to Portarius through any means necessary.
They burn holes in the hard Ananea exoskeleton.
Grunts and roars of pain radiate out as the pile begins to crumble.
One near the top falls and can't regain its footing, landing only centimetres from the edge of the water, and for a split second, you see the relief wash over its human shaped face.
His bulging belly sinking lower as he relaxes his guard.
Silly, silly mistake.
I barely have time to form the thought before the Gate shoots out an arm of glittering water, reaching into his slack jawed mouth as steam floods from his nose, ears, and eyes.
Melting the Ananea from the inside out. Several more scramble away as they flick and swipe at their bodies, trying to dislodge the acidic water.
They're disoriented in their pursuit, stumbling and falling as tendons and muscles are severed and dissolved.
I catch glimpses of Portarius. He remains kneeling on the ground, still held in place by the two Ananea whose barbs spear into his flesh.
His skin torn and bloodied. The brutality of their action written like a story over his skin.
There is not one part of him I can see that has been left untouched as they tried to end his life.
His beautiful body covered in such a deep crimson, you wouldn't know his warm caramel skin shone golden in the light.
I still feel his presence. It's reassuring, but my heart clenches as his strength dims and flickers.
A large blob of the Gate's water rests against his chest as it slowly sinks inside the hundreds of puncture wounds.
It wastes no time in targeting the two Ananea still attached to him.
The female's eyes dart around in a panic, striving to find a way out, but as our eyes lock, I can see this means more to her than a simple ambush.
There is pain twisting her face. A desperate frenzy as she tries to hold onto her vengeance.
Her body sways, her belly shiny in the light of the fire raging all around her.
I stride toward her, water meeting each of my footsteps, allowing me to remain high above the surface. She stares at me, her gaze unwavering as she sputters and clicks out sounds resembling words.
“You killed him.”
She flicks between Portarius and me, a slow grin spreading across her face, newfound confidence that she will succeed in her goal.
But what she doesn't know is that the Gate has been cautiously moving around her.
Its waters are safely inside Portarius, healing and mending vital organs.
But on the outside, the spirits who roam the Gate are poised for battle. A final manoeuvre to flank our enemy.
Slowly, she withdraws her barbs, the man opposite her, following her movements.
A tingling creeps into my hands, a warmth bordering on uncomfortable radiating in my wrists.
I take a final step, stopping at the edge of the water, my platform steadily descending, bringing me level with the Ananea.
The heat in my wrists becomes too much, breaking my focus.
Abruptly, the burning ceases, replaced with the soothing coolness of metal against my palms. Looking down, I'm shocked to find two long daggers nestled within my fingers
“You killed him,” she clicks. “He felt you come through the Gate, and you killed him. So now I kill yours.”
With one swift movement, she pounces to slice across Portarius' neck, only getting halfway before a ring of water lassos her throat.
I reach out, pushing my thumb and fingers against her windpipe, crushing her access to the air we breathe.
With my opposite hand, the tip of my dagger rests beneath her chin.
Each movement digging it in deeper. Her dark brown eyes flicker a glowing red.
A flash so quick I might have missed it.
A drop of pale green blood tracks the length of my blade, but I refuse to remove it until she moves her barb.
I needn't have worried, though, the Gates water so diligently working away in his chest shifted to where her barb is embedded in his neck, emitting the same loud hissing sound as it melts.
“He can not die,” I grit out. Flicking my gaze between her and the sizzling barb. I release my hold on her throat just a fraction.
“No,” she rasps. “But he can suffer.”
She jerks to push deeper into his neck, but her barb is already ruined. The Gate melting it like a hot knife in butter. Rage swarms through me. That she dared attack when she knew he was an eternal being. That she knew, and did it anyway.
I tighten my grip again, focusing only on her as I push the sharp blade through the bottom of her jaw. A soundless scream frozen on her face as the blade pierces her tongue. Stabbing into her brain and out the top of her skull. Her life was an easy sacrifice to take.
The final Ananea, the man who had pinned down my bonded's arms, tries to scramble away.
Slowly being stalked by the spirits of the Gate, he now remains half alive.
Trying his best to get the acidic water off him as the droplets continue to decimate his body, burning him until he lies limp at the Gate's edge, his dead eyes lifeless as he stares into a bottomless abyss.
My daggers disappear into the ether as I'm gently placed on the shoreline, my knees slamming to the ground, my nerves shot.
“Portarius?” I whisper, hoping to rouse him with my voice. Reaching out, I tenderly cup his face, repeating his name over and over.
But nothing happens.
No eyelid flicker. No twitch of his fingertips. Nothing.
His body slumped, head resting on his chest as he kneels before me.
The Gate's water pools around us, creating a barrier, a dome spanning to encompass us. Every inch of his beautiful skin is damaged, my fingers tremble an inch away, not knowing where it's safe to touch. Choosing to place my hand against his, comforting us both.
The flames shimmer in the sky, burning embers floating past. Anything that comes too close, intentional or not, is shredded apart, ceasing to exist as the Gate protects us. Water rushes in, rapidly filling the dome until I feel the cool touch of a familiar transparent hand.
The scarred spirit kneels beside me, taking my hand and interlocking his fingers with mine as a sob escapes me.
This can't be the end. As soon as my fingers leave Portarius' skin, spirits swirl all around us.
Poking and prodding the holes scattered across his flesh.
Each one left in the wake of an Ananea barb.
Not hesitating in the slightest, they reach inside his body, beginning the painstaking process of mending his wounds.