Raiding the Raiders
6, Despair
In the days that followed, lying in his bed as he battled with his guilt and sorrow and resigned himself to his new life as a cripple, Cliegg tried to recall what happened that night after the Raiders had poured down on him and his shooter had been snatched from his hand. The best his memory could serve were flashes of sound and colour; no particular sequence, just certain images that had scarred into his mind and would remain there forever.
Holding long knives, slick and slippery in his grip.
The press of bodies, a virtual wall of the giant-sized Sand people around him.
Blood spraying like the fountains of the Ator into the sky.
Pain in his back.
Pain in his arm.
Slash.
Cut.
Stab.
An upraised arm, an uncovered chest…
Adrenaline gave him extra perceptiveness. His eyes saw a flash of weakness and his knife followed through. He sold his life as dearly as he could.
The blade in his shoulder. Falling on his knees.
The white moons being gradually blocked out by a wall of darkness.
A masked face close enough to reach out and stab. He had.
The bones of his elbow snapping.
Darkness.
A graveyard of old friends.
The chiselling of sand pebbles on his face as he was dragged across the ground.
Fire. Monstrous shadows.
The pattern of blood on a blade.
Darkness.
A white face with black hair billowing around it.
Another one he had failed.
Impossible.
But it had leaned close and he allowed himself to believe.
He was so sorry. He had not saved her.
"Akia, I'm sorry."
Her dark eyes smiled at him. "Wake up, Cliegg. Wake up."
Her face morphed and became different, old, careworn but uniquely beautiful.
"Shmi! Shmi!"
Dark blue eyes, kind and sad. "Wake up, Cliegg."
He had to. He had to help her.
"Wake up, Cliegg!"
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
He could not save her.
To Be Concluded...
Raiding the Raiders will be concluded in the next chapter. If you've been lurking, now's the chance to leave a reply. :D