CHAPTER XII #10
“No, Arens!” I shake my head in hard denial and grab his hands. “He’s almost here. The King’s almost here! Just hold on and we’ll bring you back with us. Hold on. He’s almost here.”
The Woodlands Discerni flicks his gaze on mine, his eyes sparkling with what little life is left in them.
He gives me a soft smile, a smile of appreciation and warmth before they close to the rumbling ground below us.
I grip his hands hard just as he sags into his body, his own fingers coming loose around the arrow still in his chest. They release the weapon at the same time his full body goes lifeless under me, his eyes closing shut without any trace of the pain that previously gripped them.
“Arens?”
I shake his hands in mine, needing him to hear me.
“Come on, Arens, wake up. He’s almost here!”
Keane’s summoning is shaking the full woods around us now, moving it so violently that the trees begin to sway. I lean down to Arens and wrap my arms around him, holding him tightly until Keane can figure out what to do.
“He’s here. You’re okay…”
Someone places a timid hand on my shoulder, the gesture willing me to pull away from my hold.
I nod into Arens’ cheek and feel its warmth, hating that his eyes are still closed to woods around us.
If only he’d wake up… he’d see that we’re here to help, that the King himself has come to take him back to Nolan’s temple so we can treat that last wound.
“Wake up, Arens.”
I start shaking his shoulders, willing his eyes to open so I can see that curious young man staring back at me. But he just lays in my arms, the two of us on the ground with the woods moving around us like I’ve never felt before.
“Arens?”
I can feel Keane’s presence as he steps into the woods, can feel my own body finally breaking down as I hold onto a lifeless form.
There’s something so gut wrenching about finally accepting reality, and it’s all I can do but start pounding my hands against Arens’ chest. Sob after sob starts pouring out of me, my tears filled with anguish and anger.
I fall heavy on the ground next to the young man, unable to comprehend what all has just happened.
The hand on my shoulder gives me a gentle squeeze before it steps back to allow the King to approach. I cry harder into Arens’ side and ignore Keane’s advances, wrapping my arms around the Woodlands Discerni again as I plead for him to wake up.
“Alexis,” the King’s voice is a strong, soft caress as he places his own hand on my shoulder. “It is done. He’s gone.”
“No,” I reply violently.
I lift my head to my blonde friend, spotting all the blood at his lips again.
“No.”
Two argents dip low in the woods, their quick white bodies still circling above us. I feel their magic pulsing within my bones, feel Stormfall once again lift into the air to swipe them away.
Do not trust the argents.
I glare at the birds in hatred, hearing Arens’ warning so clearly now. I watch them fly above and eye them in spite, my anger pushing out towards them, hating the painful death they’ve just led me to.
Arens warned me.
He warned me from the beginning not to trust them.
And look where it’s led!
I stare at those pure white birds and their puffed proud chests, pushing myself off Arens’ shoulders as I wish beyond anything that they’d just drop dead.
Quickly, within the small breath that releases from my chest, I watch in satisfied amazement as the birds do just that.
Their wings stiffen in their flight just as their chests heave a final breath.
They fall to the ground with thud, their lifeless bodies falling limp just as Arens’ did.
I let my hate push out of me to the rest of the forest, to the rest of the argents that I know are watching from afar.
I want those birds to lose their breath as well, to fall to the ground in pain for all the pain they’re causing me.
Their small white bodies begin dropping from the woods like stones, each landing on the floor of the forest as I start to smile, enjoying the sight.
Breathe, Alexis, a calm and old voice fills my mind.
I turn my head quickly to the woods in confusion.
Breathe and let go of your anguish or you will end up hurting the people you love.
My glance immediately turns towards Keane and Holis behind me, noticing that both men are doubled over in pain.
Their hands are pressed against their chests as the argents continue to drop dead around us, their small white bodies falling like rain.
I look around in even more confusion and spot Desmond, Canon and Mana farther off, all of them doubled over in the same position and grasping for breath as if there’s no air around them.
Am I doing that?
Yes, Stormfall grips my shoulder harder than he ever has before, talons drawing blood.
Keane takes a hard step towards me, his hand reaching for the back of my neck through his own pain, his palm wrapping around my skin like a collar as I stare at the Bird of Ash in disbelief.
“Storm?” I shiver under the King’s touch before I fall to the ground.