Chapter Twenty: The Selfish and the Selfless
Xaphile tried to keep his footing when his assailant violently dragged him backwards towards a darker part of the forest. However, in spite of the obvious danger he was now in, his eyes were vacant of all expression aside from mild irritation.
The whole time, he kept his jaw locked and refused to make a sound.
After a few minutes of walking, the one holding him finally let go and whirled him around, slamming him backwards against a tree. Before he could attempt retaliate, the blade was once again being held against his throat. He blinked when he found himself staring into the face of a very grubby, greasy-looking man with weathered skin and flaming red hair. Xaphile met his assailant's gaze evenly, pupils contracted into angry slits.
The redhead pressed the blade against his neck a little harder.
"Disgusting demon," he sneered, bearded mouth curling in disgust. "Keep glaring and I'll slit your throat instead of selling you off."
Xaphile defiantly continued to stare at him with cold, unblinking eyes.
"Care to explain?" he lowly demanded, not moving a muscle. "Why are you holding a knife to my throat?"
The redhead looked surprised by his words, but after a moment he glared.
"Some demons make good coin," he sneered, touching Xaphile's fur-covered ears before brushing his fingers against one of the horns sticking out of his head. "You speak our language, and you even seem to have quite a few resources on your body that people would pay a mighty sum for. You might make a good sex slave, if nothing else."
Xaphile quirked an eyebrow.
"Remove your hands from me," he quietly retorted. "You can't just waltz up to random people, attack them, and decide that you want to sell them into prostitution. I'm not an object."
"Shut up before I decide to slit your throat!" the redhead spat. "Don't make me say it again!"
So saying, he gripped Xaphile's dark hair again and smashed his head back against the tree, exposing his neck.
This freak was serious.
He could tell by the cunning look in his lime green eyes.
But at this point, he couldn't bring himself to care.
Slowly leaning forward and pressing his pale throat against the blade, he looked the man clean in the eye, feeling his exhaustion coming to the surface.
"If killing me will help you sleep at night, go ahead," he murmured, not looking away from the man's eyes; he felt next to nothing when they jolted open wide. "Slit my throat if that's what you want to do. Go on. Do it."
"SHUT UP!" he snarled. "DO YOU EVEN REALIZE THE SITUATION YOU'RE IN?!"
Xaphile merely looked at him.
Waiting.
"I completely understand," he quietly retorted, giving him an icy stare. "Just make your choice already. I'm not letting you sell me like a store-bought kitchen appliance, so either kill me and get it over with or let me go. Your choice."
The redhead's left eye twitched and a vein bulged in his forehead.
When his fist tightened, Xaphile mentally braced himself... but then, almost abruptly, the man jumped.
"If you value your life," Ella's voice suddenly growled, "you'll drop the blade and take your grimy hands off of him."
Slowly, the man released his hair and carefully held the dagger out to the side before letting it drop. And with a speed that Xaphile could barely process, the hooded albino girl whirled around his body and sent a fierce kick straight into his nether regions. The grubby slaver folded like a ragdoll, clutching himself and screaming in agony.
"OW!" he squawked, face turning dark purple. "FUCK! FUCK!"
"Filth," Ella spat, folding her arms with a dangerous expression. "Get out of my sight."
"Little Bitch!" he wailed, rolling around on the ground. "You... whore!"
"Shut up!" she snapped, furiously cocking her hip. "I'll say it only once more: get out of my sight, filth! If you ever come near one of my companions again, I'll castrate you!"
Xaphile winced at the threat, since he was pretty sure she was actually crazy enough to do it.
When the man didn't move, she kicked him one more time. Clutching his groin, he hastily crawled towards the treeline, then pulled himself up and hobbled away. Ella waited until long after he was gone to lower her guard. Closing her eyes with an irritated sigh, she cautiously relaxed, breathing heavily.
"Are you all right?" she finally demanded, giving Xaphile a sour look. "That man... who was he? What did he want, and why was he holding a blade to your throat? Did you do something to him?"
"He wanted to sell me as a sex slave," he muttered, not looking at her. "He attacked me out of nowhere."
She stiffened, looking at the ground with a concerned expression.
"Slavers? This far south?" she murmured, hastily sheathing her dagger. "This doesn't bode well. Once we eat, we're departing again."
"Eh?" Xaphile asked, looking at her in dismay. "We just finished setting up camp, though."
"If that man was a slaver," she snapped, losing her patience, "he'll likely come back and bring more of his companions with him! I'm much too tired to fight them off properly, let alone defend four other hapless people. We leave after we eat."
"All right," he sighed, shaking his head. "Fine."
When they turned to go, however, she froze like a statue.
Then she clasped her daggers and drew them in a flash.
Xaphile followed her gaze and stiffened when he saw a large group of burly men moving through the trees. There were about thirty of them, total: two men were up on horseback, but the majority were on foot, and all of them had weapons, He swallowed when he noticed that they were all scarred, enormous in size, and wearing dark cloaks.
When they stopped a decent distance away, the grubby redhead stumbled up, still clutching himself.
"That's them," he snarled, lifting a scraggly finger and pointing straight at them. "Those are the ones that attacked me!"
"Leave us!" Ella calmly and loudly commanded. "I am only going to say this once! You will find nothing of value here."
"Filthy bitch," the redhead snarled, spitting on the ground near her feet. "She keeps company with demons!"
Ella sighed and took her own hood off, revealing her white hair and extremely fair features.
Then she took control of the situation, lifting her pink eyes with a savage glare.
"I am the Countess Ellameira Rochard of the Southern provinces," she called in a warning tone. "To get my companion, you will have to come through me, and you definitely don't possess that kind of skill."
Some of the men stiffened and fear alighted on their faces at the sight of her face.
"It's the white witch!" one of them whispered. "The ruler everyone calls the demon slayer!"
"Bah! Demon Slayer or not, even you can't take all of us at once, little girl," a burly man with shaggy brown hair snapped, lumbering forward with a threatening visage. "Don't underestimate us!"
"We have no quarrel with you," Ella retorted, quirking a thin white brow. "Leave us be and no more need be said."
"You'll only get past us over our dead bodies," the man growled back. "We won't obey you."
"It's your choice," Ella chuckled, instantly flicking her daggers into a ready position.
"Wait," Xaphile growled, snatching her wrist. "Don't."
Glaring at the clawed fingers gripping her limb, she glanced up at his face and saw that it was dark with a strange expression. His eyes were flicking around as if he were trying to spot something beyond the group of men.
"Let go of my arm," Ella commanded. "Now."
"No," Xaphile retorted, tightening his grip without looking at her. "I've got a very bad feeling in the pit of my belly right now. Instead of going right to them, you and I are going to to draw them away from here."
She stiffened, then clenched her fists.
"Don't think to order me around!" she hissed. "I won't run from a fight, even if you would! Now, remove your hand from my arm before I decide to chop it off!"
"No," Xaphile retorted, teal eyes hardening into frozen gems. "Something isn't right. If you charge in there, I won't be able to do much to help you!"
"I don't care!" Ella snapped, dragging her wrist out of his grasp. "Now, stay here. It'll be over soon."
So saying, she walked forward and hefted her daggers, making Xaphile tense.
Something really isn't right, he silently muttered, frantically looking around. There's something wrong here.
"You want a fight?" Ella called, dancing from foot to foot. "You got one! Let's go!"
The sound of swords drawing all over the place met Xaphile's ears.
"Attack!" the shaggy man roared, gesturing wildly with his sword. "Come on, men!"
When all of them charged, Ella merely stood where she was, pink eyes flicking around... but then, in a flurry of black and white, she darted forward and spun straight into the throng like a ballet dancer, daggers flashing wildly.
It happened so quickly that Xaphile couldn't even see it.
Within ten to fifteen seconds, nearly half of them had fallen to the ground around her, screaming madly as they clutched wide gashes that had been opened up on their bodies. The rest backed off when she stopped dancing, holding her daggers out with practiced ease.
"Bitch," the leader sneered, eyes growing triumphant. "Big mistake."
That's when he realized why everything about this felt so wrong.
His eyes widened in horror just as the shadows in the trees moved.
"ELLA!" he roared, eyes widening in horror. "MOVE!"
When she looked at him in confusion, time seemed to slow down to the point where everything fell still. Not long after her eyes met his, the muddled twangs of bows releasing multiple volleys of arrows from beyond the treeline met his ears.
His heart nearly stopped when flashes of the real Ella lying dead in the snow seared behind his eyes.
She wasn't going to make it out of harm's way in time.
It was impossible... she wouldn't make it... unless...
Unless he did the unthinkable.
In that instant, he made his decision.
He didn't think.
He didn't stop to think.
All he did was let instinct take over.
Before he could figure out what was happening, his irises erupted with aquamarine light and his legs propelled him into a headlong sprint. Hair exploding behind him, he lunged forward so quickly that he probably looked like a blur to those around him, but in his own perspective, everything still seemed slow.
He could hear his heart racing, every single beat... he could feel his long hair billowing out as he drew closer... the deadly weapons slowly arching up in a raining cloud of death. Lowering his torso, glowing eyes fierce with fury, he spread his arms and lunged, tackling her around the middle like a football player and crushing her against his chest.
A split second after he hit the ground, covering her body with his own, the arrows landed.
Most of them had gone wide, but one... one was all it took.
He jerked when it landed in his left shoulder, skewering him.
His pupils instantly contracted into pinpricks and he let out a wheeze, clawing at the dirt in agony.
"Fuck!" he spat, writhing on top of Ella, who lay stunned and frozen beneath him. "Owwww."
The pressure... the burning sensation, the heavy feeling... sharp agony... the scent of his own blood... it all washed over him, making his head go light nearly instantaneously.
"What are you doing?!" Ella suddenly screeched, hitting him in the face. "Get off me! Right now!"
When he pushed himself back, he realized she was red with fury, but then her eyes flicked to his shoulder, and she froze.
Instantly, her red face turned bone white.
Ignoring the agony washing over his body, Xaphile finally tore his gaze away from Ella's eyes and pushed himself off of her since he could hear the rest of the slavers charging. Left arm limp, he weakly danced from foot to foot and furiously struck out with his feet at anyone who came close, snarling like a wildcat.
Ella, on the other hand, merely sat stricken on the ground.
Her horrified eyes had locked onto the arrow sticking out of his back. A large dark spot was already seeping through his clothing, quickly staining his left shoulder completely red. Ella shivered a little in surprise, however, when the bleeding boy still managed to disarm and incapacitate nearly every single man attacking them using nothing but his own legs.
One of the slavers had been circling around, though, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Once the thug found an opening, he moved in with a savage war cry.
Xaphile, caught blind by the attack, put his uninjured arm up to protect his face.
Ella's eyes went blank and lost their sheen when the blade cut the skin on his pale hand wide open.
Blood began spilling down his palm and wrist in rivers when the slaver triumphantly raised the weapon again.
She was just about to roll to her feet and tear over with her weapons when Xaphile whirled towards the man in a bizarrely flexible manner and spun his foot out, sweeping his legs out from underneath his body. Then, lifting his foot high above his head, he brought the heel of his clawed foot down on the offender's stomach.
When the man gagged and vomited all over himself, the twangs of more arrows being fired filled the air. Growling, Xaphile whirled around and literally scooped Ella off the ground before sprinting out of danger. She shook when he took off into the woods, breathing heavily. The trees had them zigzagging in a dizzying manner, but he obviously didn't care.
"Stop it!" she cried, suddenly regaining her senses and flailing around. "Put me down! This instant!"
"Shut up," he hissed, clutching her all the tighter; her face twisted in horror when she felt the blood from his hand soaking her cloak, then glanced up to see that his face was going pale. "Don't say another word."
He could hear them coming.
Horses... footsteps...
Then they hit an unseen incline and abruptly flew forward over empty air. She screamed when they fell, but instead of dropping her, Xaphile twisted his body and landed on his back. The arrow embedded in his shoulder snapped and was shoved even deeper when he landed, holding her close as they tumbled clean into a tree.
The force of the impact sent Ella rolling out of his arms.
She shuddered when she came to a halt, feeling thoroughly disheveled in more ways than one. Xaphile struggled to get up, but merely fell over on his side again, staring off at nothing with glazed eyes and panting heavily.
"Get up!" Ella barked, hastily crawling over to him and gripping his arm. "Hurry!"
He struggled to move, but his limbs failed him.
"Go," he growled, eyes flicking up at her. "Right now."
She blanched, not believing her ears.
"Silence such madness, you fool!" she spat, hitting him upside the head. "Get up!"
"GO!" he snarled, making her jerk away with a start. "RUN, YOU IDIOT!"
"I refuse," she retorted. "You just saved my life! Why you did, I don't know, but I can't abandon you here after that: my pride won't allow it."
His next actions startled her.
Gripping her cloak with furious eyes, he jerked her face down within an inch of his own.
"I watched you die once already," he hissed, every word laced with venom, "and I would rather let myself die a second time than watch it happen again. Get your fucking ass out of here right now before I bite your god damn fingers off, Ella!"
She shivered, since his glare was genuinely the fiercest thing she'd ever seen.
She was torn.
But by the time she had a chance to figure out what to do, it was too late since the redhead who'd been chasing them came into view at the top of the hill. Lifting his sword, he let out a snarl and charged down the hill right at her. Xaphile violently shoved Ella out of the way and frantically struggled to raise himself into an upright position, but the slaver merely lowered his shoulder and tackled him.
His tail thrashed and he let out a wheeze when the man attempted to pin him down.
He kicked his legs and weakly pushed at the dirt with his feet, but the redhead merely raised the sword.
"Squirm, little maggot," he snarled, grinning nastily and revealing rotting teeth. "This is my favorite part... I get to watch the life bleed away from your very eyes..."
When he brought it down, Xaphile instinctively caught the blade between his palms, straining with all his might to keep the rusted point away from him.
He was losing the fight.
He had no strength left in him.
But then, in the blink of an eye, a flurry of silver came roaring at them. There was a squelching nose, and in an instant, where a snarling face had once been, there was instead a fountain of blood. Xaphile jolted when the man's body twitched and went limp, jerking violently. His whole torso was coated in a hot red spray, making his eyes widen in sheer horror.
With a terrified cry, Xaphile convulsed and frantically tried to get away from the spraying blood.
The blade fell out of the decapitated trunk's hands, and slowly, the slaver's twitching body tilted and landed on its side.
Xaphile nearly began to hyperventilate: shakily lifting his hands, he touched his soaked face with small, quivering irises.
Slowly turning his head, he looked at the twitching corpse.
Seeing all the blood, his pupils expanded to the point where they nearly obscured them. Before he could comprehend what had just happened, Ella roughly dragged him upright. Throwing his arm over her shoulder and angrily supporting his dead weight, the girl took off running, dragging his limp and stumbling form with her as fast as she could go.
The forest blurred as they fled.
It was getting harder and harder to see.
"Stay with me," Ella spat, drawing his consciousness back to full awareness; he hadn't even realized he'd been drifting away from it until she'd spoken. "Don't you dare die."
By the time the trees opened up in front of them and their campsite came into view, he felt as though he were about to faint. His vision was clouded with black and red spots... the prickles were blinding him. Amelia, Gus, and Lucy simultaneously leapt upright in horror.
"PHIL!" Amelia screeched, flying over to them and helping Ella lie him down on his stomach. "OH, GODS!"
"What happened?!" Lucy cried, looking at the two of them with huge eyes. "He's completely covered in blood!"
Xaphile felt the back of his shirt being cut open by something, but everything was going fuzzy.
"We were attacked by a group of slavers," Ella curtly explained, examining the broken arrow buried in his back. "Shite..."
"Slavers?!" Gus hissed, gripping his bow and hurrying over. "How many?"
"Thirty of them attacked with swords, more were in the trees," she retorted, scowling with intense focus as she carefully used one of her daggers to cut Xaphile's shoulder open. "Now, be silent! Amelia! Use your magic to slow his bleeding while I remove this arrow!"
"Y-yes, Ma'am!" Amelia squeaked, waving her hands with an arcane gesture; almost immediately, a flare of golden light engulfed them and she smacked them down onto Xaphile's head. "I'll try and heal his other injuries while you do that, but I can't make any promises since I'm still a novice with curative magic!"
"Just do it!" Ella snapped, watching as the golden glow extended through the boy's body; once his whole form was glowing, she began to cut the arrow out of his muscle, face twitching when he started writhing a little. "Don't squirm, you idiot! You'll injure yourself even more!"
Her words fell on deaf ears.
Sounds had faded into a dull mumble, and his eyes were sightless.
Spots had dominated his vision.
Almost instantly, he remembered Ella's last words... the words she'd spoken before dying.
"I... can't see... anymore... Phil! Everything's... going... fuzzy... and I can only see spots. I can't even... see you anymore... where are you?!"
"Spots," he croaked, voice coming out small and thin. "I'm dying."
"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Ella shrieked, frantically drawing the weapon out of his shoulder and throwing chunks of wood and metal off to the side. "Close it! Close his injury, right now!"
"I'll try!" Amelia squeaked, hands growing brighter. "Hang in there, Phil!"
"I don't," he croaked, lifting his hand and shivering all over as the sky turned dark and fuzzy in his vision. "want to."
Then, eyes rolling back, his arm fell to the ground.
"Xaphile!" Lucy shrieked, watching as his wound started to close with frightened brown eyes. "Hang on! Just hang on!"
"OPEN YOUR EYES, YOU IDIOT!" Ella roared, shaking his arm. "IF YOU DIE ON US, EVERYTHING IN THIS FOREST WILL GO WITH YOU!"
"Gus, keep Ella away from him!" Amelia snapped, checking his pulse; breath hitching, she made an arcane gesture and her hands began glowing gold. "Divines! Give me strength! This is the second time in a month that his heart has stopped beating!"
Once Ella had forcibly been dragged out of the way, she began doing the compressions.
Ella watched with a stunned expression as he lay still on the ground.
Waiting for him to move.
To open his eyes, to say something... to give her a sour look, if anything!
But he lay still... covered in blood, eyes closed... face pale...
And something began to tug at her memory as she stood there, staring at his face with blank eyes.
She watched as Amelia continued the compressions.
Watched as she pressed her lips against his own, plugged his nose, and huffed air into his lungs in the hopes of restarting his heart.
And the whole time she did so, there was that unfamiliar tug, as though something were struggling to surface into her mind.
All around them, with a pulse of energy that seemed to cry out in agony, trees and plants slowly began to lose their vibrant face went white with horror when the leaves of the forest turned brown and started raining down around them.
"XAPHILE!" Ella screamed, face turning red as she finally started panicking. "OPEN YOUR EYES!"
Gus honestly looked as though he were going to pass out from the strain of holding her back.
"BREATHE, PHIL!" Amelia finally screeched, losing her own composure. "BREATHE!"
However, through it all, his eyes remained closed.