16 #3
The other three snickered just as he repositioned his blade, the tip of it slicing across the neckline of my already-tattered shirt.
The one at my left wrist with peony hair snickered. “I heard that the brat-Prince doesn’t like his toys being tampered with.”
“Is that so?” The dagger-wielding one smirked. “Maybe we have a way to gain his attention, after all.”
They all grinned at me, four faces of pure evil before the first one completed his slice, carving open the front of my shirt and peeling it aside with vigor.
My body continued to worm, every inch of me coming alive with the impending, changing danger before me.
I was screaming, only apparent by the sudden hand that was wrapped around my mouth.
Without thinking, I bit down on the fleshiest part of his finger, forcing a squeal from his mouth that was immediately followed by his hand colliding with my face.
The one with the dagger laughed at the two of us, shifting himself until he was straddling my waist with his knees on either side of my hips. His grin stretched impossibly wider, parting slightly at the center where raindrops slithered down his nose and collected.
Then there was a sword protruding from his mouth.
It pulled backwards, the same direction that it had entered from. When the pixie gurgled on his blood a few times, then ultimately slumped over and off of me, I was left staring up at Raegan. His sword dripping, his hair untamed and scattered from the harsh winds that blew at us.
He was snarling as he began to move. Guttural noises formed at the back of his throat as his sword found a high arc, soon colliding with the pixies’ neck who held down one of my wrists. The other two leapt backwards, up onto their feet where they pulled their weapons out and advanced on the Prince.
But Raegan was not alone. Soon at his side was Killian, his face scrunched in fury as his back pressed against Raegan’s, the two of them preparing to pounce on their enemies.
Just as their fight began, as metal whined against metal and swords gleamed in the moisture, two bodies blocked my view from where they crouched in front of me.
Niamh pinched at my chin, tipping my face up towards her so she could get a better look at me.
Shea shed her armoured leather chest-plate, placing it over my upper-body and working at lacing it up along my back.
“Move, move! Is she alright?” Killian roared as he reappeared in front of me, nearly knocking Niamh into the deep puddle at our side. Raegan appeared next, peering down at me with something behind his eyes.
Both of them extended a hand to me.
My eyes flicked from the two calloused offerings.
As my hand wrapped around Killian’s and I let him hoist me up to my feet, my eyes met Raegan’s over his shoulder. Whatever I was incapable of putting into words shone in my eyes, just as fear dissipated in his and he nodded.
Killan’s face was buried deep in my neck, his nostrils constantly working as he drew in breath after breath, scent after scent, his body rigid and tense as his grip remained strong.
And only once he slowed in his continuous breathing in of me did he release a damning noise from the back of his throat that was primal and capable of deflating his panic.
Killian had such a grip around me I was surprised I could breathe. “I’m alright,” I choked, guilt taking my lungs hostage. “But… Gaoth, he…”
I felt Killian’s body go limp against me, his knees buckling as he released his hold and turned to look at where the stallion had fallen.
Niamh took his place at my side, letting me slacken my spine against her as she wrapped an arm around my waist. The four of us were left to watch as Killian took small steps towards Gaoth, eventually dropping to his knees and pressing his forehead to the pegasus’ neck.
“He… he protected me,” I sniffled, too shaken to even try and stop the tears from falling.
Niamh pressed a finger to the few salty droplets that started to stream. “Then he died with honour. He enters Mag Mell with glory and would not want you to shed a tear for him.” She rested her head on my shoulder, pulling me tighter against her. “That is what it means to be caraid.”
I was finally starting to understand the pixies, their strange view of the world, and the earth beneath them.
Their ability to see beauty in the mundane, their simplicity that was the shining jewel that centered their whole world.
The creatures that they allied with were more than just mounts or tools.
They did not see themselves as more mighty than beings with fur or scales or hides, they did not see themselves as the apex creature.
In Saoghal, all were equal.
In Saoghal, there was no greater honour than being caraid.
Although bodies surrounded us, blood pooled at our feet, and the sun mourned behind a dense collection of clouds, I admitted to myself that I never wanted to leave this place.
Although carnage had followed utter chaos, I wanted nothing more than to call Saoghal my home, for the rest of my short life.