Chapter 112 Faylinn
Chapter One Hundred Twelve
Faylinn
Iwove through the trees, taking no care to muffle the heavy sounds of my footsteps as I careened through the thin forest, snapping twigs and crunching leaves as I went.
No one was paying attention to this side of the battlefield anyway, too preoccupied with the soldiers that seemed to pour over every hill.
Bodies in various states of injury covered the ground, the spring-green grass completely transformed by the mud coaxed to the surface by heavy feet and the blood and bodily fluids that stained everything they touched.
Screams of the dying washed over me, their cadence rising high above the sounds of battle as magic zapped through the air. Windstorms caught my hair, tangling my already unruly curls while the earth bubbled and roiled, pockets exploding heavenward as Earth Mages attempted to bury their enemies.
Foe and friend blended together as battle lines heaved and blurred.
“Cut the head off the snake, and the body dies,” Rohak had told Torin, his words echoing through my mind like my own personal marching cadence.
My sweaty grip tightened slightly on my daggers as I saw a Mage approach out of the corner of my eye.
I ground to a halt, sliding along the wet leaves and spraying mud in a wide arc.
I crouched low, ready for an attack, but when the seemingly unaware Mage turned to face me, my breath caught in my lungs.
His eyes scanned crazily, shaking in their sockets as he looked without seeing. What was even more alarming, though, was the lack of skin on his face and his missing lower jaw.
Sinew hung from his upper mandible, a few wayward teeth still intact, while others embedded themselves far into the upper part of his mouth.
While he wore black, it wasn’t the Mage blacks of the Academy; in place of a simple tunic and pants, he wore armor with spikes protruding from the shoulders and an ornate leather breastplate.
His long black hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, the blood-soaked ends of it slapping wetly against his armor.
Samyrian.
I should have felt hatred and disgust toward this Mage who would have killed me in an instant if we’d met in any other circumstance. But all I could conjure was pity.
Somehow, despite the horrific extent of his injuries, the man was clinging to life.
A guttural noise I could only describe as something a wild boar would make when skewered rattled from his chest. The lack of jaw and tongue made it that much more painful to listen to.
The Mage careened around aimlessly for a moment, bouncing off of trees and making that gods-awful noise every time his exposed face came in contact with the spiky bark. Eventually, he tripped over an exposed root, crashing down to the forest floor with another of those squeals.
A pang of pity zipped through my body.
No one should have to die like this, in this much pain.
I quickly glanced to my right beyond the line of trees. Sufficiently convinced that Solace was occupied and no one else was about to wander through, I sheathed one of my daggers before cautiously approaching the downed Mage.
He writhed on the ground, his hands flopping uselessly against the forest floor. He was missing a few fingers on each hand; bone was exposed in some cases, as if the flesh was stripped from his digit, while fleshly remains hung from the other spaces.
“Hey,” I said loudly, confident the sounds of battle would drown out my words. “I’m going to help you.”
The Mage made no indication that he heard me, though his body stopped rocking when he felt my hand against his neck.
I watched as his back rose and fell in jerky movements.
He was dying even without my help, but the long-dormant healer in me couldn’t let this man suffer any more than he already had.
Were we any better than Solace and our enemies if we left others to suffer in such a way? Compassion is what separated us; if we preached this virtue and planned to rule this way once Solace was removed, shouldn’t we practice it now?
Lodging my hands beneath the prone Mage, I heaved with all my might, muscles straining under his immense weight, until he was resting on his back. His shaky hands fell against his chest, the breath rattling in his lungs.
Up this close, his injuries nearly made me vomit; the sight only made worse by the leaves, mud, and bugs that stuck to his open wounds.
“Let me ease your passing,” I said, imploring the man to understand.
A low whine eased from his throat as tears built in his hazy eyes. The sound was different than what I’d heard previously, and I took it to mean consent.
With a deep breath that I held, I quickly pushed one of my long, thin daggers between two ribs, angling it upward to hit his heart.
I exhaled as blood dribbled from the wound and coated my dagger and hand, relief echoing in the man’s eyes as I watched his life fade away.
“What the fuck are we doing,” I mumbled to myself, removing my dagger and wiping it against my dirty pant leg. I shook my head in frustration.
This is not who we are, not what we stand for.
Anger bubbled in my chest as I continued moving through the trees, seeking Solace in the chaos of battle once more.
I need to end this now before we devolve even further into twisted wickedness with no return.
She’d moved closer to the tree line while I dealt with the disfigured Mage, and I quickly climbed the nearest maple, scurrying up the branches until I was perched high above the battle. Solace was fighting three of our Mages, a lazy smile on her face as if she were holding back.
I winced, wanting to call out to our soldiers to watch their flanks, but I was too late and my position too tenuous.
In a move quicker than lightning, Solace stole the air from the three Mages, their attacks instantly abandoned in favor of clutching their throats as their faces slowly turned a deep shade of red, then purple.
Eyes bulging from their heads, they sank to their knees, bodies twitching with the lack of oxygen as spittle foamed at the corners of their mouths.
Do it now, while she’s distracted!
Gripping my daggers more firmly in my hands, I moved to the end of the branch as Solace took a menacing step toward the incapacitated Mages.
With a battle cry, I launched myself off the tree branch, landing solidly on Solace’s back. I jolted from the impact, crying out as it felt like my skin was on fire. Immediately, Solace began to paw at me, her long nails cutting into my face and neck, leaving deep gouges that bled profusely.
I cursed at the sting, grappling for purchase on her bony frame as I maneuvered one of my daggers high above her head. Without pausing to think, I plunged the dagger down, aiming for the area between her ear and forehead.
One strike, that’s all that it takes.
Solace twisted at the last second, causing my blade to miss the mark and sink deep into her shoulder. The goddess hissed in pain before flinging me off.
I fell hard against the ground, rolling a few times in the mud and blood until my momentum was stopped by a fallen soldier. I’d knocked my head hard against the earth, my vision blackening and ears ringing from the impact.
With a groan, I pushed myself to a sitting position, only to be met with Solace’s sinister outrage. She put her mouth right next to my ear, warm breath fanning against my cheek and making my hairs stand on end.
“Fool,” she whispered, loud enough I could hear over the slowly dissipating cloud in my ears. The sounds of battle slowly swept back in, the crunch of bone and shrill cries of men and women making me wince.
Solace’s white gown was covered in ash, the fabric nearly transparent with the amount of bodily fluids it held. I tried to scramble back from her, my heart beating wildly as I was suddenly aware of how close to death I sat.
My hands scrambled for purchase in the wet earth, mud sticking to my fingers and palms as I slipped and slid. Solace simply smiled and stalked toward me, reaching out with one long-fingered hand to wrap solidly around my throat.
With a strength I didn’t know she possessed, Solace pulled me from the ground by my neck, her fingers squeezing mercilessly against my throat.
I gurgled and gasped for air, thrashing against her punishing grip with all my might. The sounds and smells of battle faded again as my energy was unerringly focused on the crazed woman.
“You are just like your mother,” Solace spat.
“Arrogant beyond measure because my father favored you.” Her eyes flashed dangerously as her fingers closed impossibly tighter.
The blood rushed to my face as my lungs fought to inflate.
My muddy nails and fingers scratched against her skin as my legs kicked and twitched, trying anything to loosen her grip even a fraction.
But it was of little use.
I was outmatched and foolishly outplayed.
No one was coming; no one knew I was here.
My vision blackened and narrowed to a pinpoint, ensuring that the last thing I saw in this world would be my killer.
The loud thumping of my heart echoed in my mind, its cadence slowing as if offering me a final countdown of the moments I had left.
Tears streaked down my cheeks from the sharp realization that I would die here, and Rohak with me.
I opened the Bond, then. Pouring every ounce of love and devotion I had for Rohak into it, hoping he could feel it. The Bond flared in alarm, Rohak evidently catching onto the pain I was subconsciously projecting.
“Goodbye, my love. I’ll see you in the ether,” I whispered down the Bond, even my inner voice fading.
My eyelids began to flutter closed as I felt a pulse of sheer terror down the Bond. I tried to soothe him, but my movements were sluggish and uncoordinated.
From somewhere deep beyond, I heard a scream and felt my body suddenly careening through space.
Perhaps this is how it feels, then?
Abruptly, my lungs filled with air, my breaths too large for the amount of oxygen I was just deprived. My head hit the ground first, followed by the rest of my body as it tumbled bonelessly head over heels.
I hacked and retched, bile and spit ejecting from my stomach as my body rejected the idea that we were still alive. Air that was necessary for my survival scalded every inch of my throat with each inhale.
The muffled buzz of awareness forced my eyelids to flutter open as the ground roiled beneath my limp body. I watched in a numb daze as two people who looked vaguely familiar fought against Solace.
A man—an Earth Mage, judging by the green power climbing up his arms—threw attack after attack at Solace, never letting the goddess rest. His eyes, the same color as his power, were wild and wet, terror and an anger like I’d never experienced before flashing with each move.
Sweat and blood marred his brow, a burn marring the majority of his neck and shoulder.
Who was this man who fought for me?
The woman was smaller, lither, with fire-red hair and a snarl of savage grace as she brandished a short sword in Solace’s direction. Together they fought, completely in tandem and sync, the Bond Marks on their forearms pulsing brightly with each move.
It was a beautiful dance of savagery, but one that couldn’t last. I felt Solace’s hit land against the Mage before I saw it, the wind knocked out of his lungs as he stumbled back a step, losing the grip on his power.
As soon as he was incapacitated, Solace reached for the fiery woman.
I rasped a warning cry, my voice breaking with the effort as tears cascaded down my cheeks.
But I was too late, too far away, too injured.
Solace lashed a stream of air around the woman’s sword, wrenching it from her grip so forcefully that she lurched forward, impaling herself on the blade Solace had flipped around.
“NO!” I heard the Earth Mage roar, stumbling toward his fallen mate, clutching at the middle of his chest.
Ben. Asha. My chest pulsed with pain at the slow recognition. My friends.
I whimpered, trying to drag my shaking body through the muddied grass.
If I can reach them, I can save them. Put a rune on them . . . do something.
“Asha,” the man cried, slumping next to the woman, cradling her dying body in his arms. Her pale arm hung limply to the side, the other weakly pressing against his cheek.
His tears mixed with hers, splashing onto her face as they tinged red with blood.
Ben pressed his lips to hers, even as he slowly sank to the ground, their life forces draining in tandem.
His arms loosened, Asha’s body tumbling to the ground where she lay still. Ben’s large form slumped shortly after, coming to rest inches from his Bonded, their hands twined together even in death.
“No,” I rasped. “No, no, no, no.”
This wasn’t supposed to happen. They had a baby, a life together.
It was supposed to be me, not them.
I cried a soundless keen, pulling myself ever closer.
A foot on my hand stopped my progress, crushing the bones in one grind of their heel. A breathy whimper escaped, singeing my throat as I looked at my attacker.
Solace.
“You did this,” Solace whispered, bending low into my ear.
“You caused their deaths. You will cause the deaths of everyone you love and hold dear.” Her long fingers wrapped around my jaw, turning my head so I could see Ellowyn and Torin fighting together a few hundred yards away.
Solace wrenched my face once more, and I winced in pain before opening my eyes to see Rohak.
He was closer than Ellowyn and Torin, his face white and aghast. Blood marred his clothes and stuck to his face and in his hair, but he’d never looked more beautiful to me.
Or more lost.
“You will die, granddaughter of Fate. But not before I take all that you love.”
A scream tore from my throat as Solace set her sights on Rohak. It felt like I’d ripped my throat open with a hot piece of glass, but I needed someone to see, someone to notice him before it was too late.