41. Chapter 41 #3
He looked right at me but his mind was seemingly lost elsewhere.
The rage rolled off of him in waves as his body shook.
His sword dripped in blood and matter as his sword hand trembled.
It was then I noted a small sheen to his irises as he continued to look lost in his stance.
A wound seeped at his collar, and his tunic had turned a rusty brown across his left shoulder.
“Peiro?” I blinked rapidly as the gray dissipated and allowed the brightness of the day back in my vision.
“He hurt you.” His voice was otherworldly—it should have set me on edge, but it did nothing of the sort.
“I say more than that, unfortunately. He got in a good swing by the look of it.” I tried to smile but lost against the rising exhaustion.
“You will raise them from the dead then. And I will kill them all with my bare fucking hands for even thinking of harming you.”
“If that was something I could do, trust me, I would do it.” While every hair on my body screamed at me to move, screamed that he was a threat by how he looked and the way he stood, my heart knew this was nothing of the sort. “Are you hurt?”
He blinked; his eyes settled on mine. My breath hitched as I witnessed his deep brown eyes continue to hold a dubious glare.
Peiro squatted down in front of me. “You’re covered in blood and you ask if I am hurt?
” A deep growl released from his throat as his gaze swept my body before refixing on my injury. Something primal accosted his face.
“To be fair, you are also covered in blood.” I tried to laugh to diffuse his anger but the motion only caused more pain, forcing me to gasp. “Looks like I made a mess.”
“And I would very much like to kill the fucker again for hurting you. I’ll mark his name when I see him in the giant’s hell.
” His tone reached a low timbre I’d never heard before and brought forth ringing caution in my mind.
I quickly dismissed it as he knelt closer in front of me, his warmth snaring my own that brought me comfort.
Making quick work with the dagger from my thigh, he cut away the limb as gently as he could.
Regardless of his work, I felt every bit of jarring from the knife.
“We need to find you a Healer before we pull that out.”
“Fyom?” My heart plummeted as I quickly scanned the field we had landed in, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted the top of his white dreadlocks amongst the tall grasses.
“Quickly.” Peiro helped me to my feet, guiding me by placing one hand on the small of my back with the other holding my elbow to steady my steps.
Bodies lay strewn about, all in the same shade of tan and brown clothes, now peppered in red. Some wore coverings over their head; men and women of various ages, some even younger than Ora. Those with their eyes still open had the same red shade as the warrior that attacked me.
Had he killed most of these Graevicks? I looked up at him but his eyes were already on mine, already reading my thoughts.
“I am not sorry for the lives that I took. And I will do it again.”
I turned my head, seeing my sister on the ground.
“Ora!” I cried, seeing her hunched over Sury’s form, already glowing in a mixture of golds and greens.
Bodies littered the ground beside her. Wisps of white hair escaped their coverings or flowed from unbound war braids.
So many in their elder years had been willing to gamble their lives, and for what purpose?
Peiro held me in place, rooting me to the spot. “Let me get to her!” I cried as I tried to break from his hold.
“Look,” he commanded, and I did. Someone had pulled the arrow from Sury’s throat and his tunic was torn open wide.
Dried blood coated his copper skin, but I watched in awe as the wound at his neck was sewn back together as if by a hidden string.
Fyom cradled Sury’s head in his lap, applying his own Healing for support, but it was Ora who was bringing him back to life once again.
Sury’s lifesource grew larger, stronger, and more vibrant in color.
Good. The giant writing his story was becoming unbearable using Sury as their plaything.
“This is amazing,” Uriah breathed, sitting beside his father, careful not to touch Sury. “I’ve never seen anything like it. The clans in Elethia speak of regenerating magic, but to witness…”
I noticed that parts of Uriah’s tattered tunic were covered in blood.
My eyes grew wide upon seeing that Fyom’s once-white dreadlocks were now covered in various shades of red.
Parts of his face were splattered, as if someone had drawn war paint on his face and beard.
There was a savage gleam in his eye as he worked hard to concentrate on his Wielding and the green-tinted glow in his hands.
“Hopefully you won’t need to grow accustomed to the display,” Ora said as her glow slowly vanished. My ears perked at the fact that her voice seemed deeper and older. When she looked my way, I noticed more strands of white hair and the lines around her eyes etched deeper.
When you revitalize life or bring it back from its threshold, it’s possible that you give parts of yours as forfeit.… Fyom’s words rang loud in my ears.
Sury’s eyes suddenly blinked open and squinted against the sun.