I didn't imagine I would have spare time on a Wednesday, but I ended up home sick. And after coyearth, Lady Corkboard, Kizanna the Underlander, and stephanie left such gracious (and entertaining) reviews, I cannot postpone much longer, can I?
Chapter Twenty Eight: in Which There Is Death
She saw Ares.
It didn't start out that way. At first, she was falling, with a feeling of both physical and emotional emptiness inside her. A millisecond later she flew, with harsh currents giving her a chill. She couldn't fight the winds, nor see where they were coming from. Her muscles felt about to burst as they tried to simply keep her in the air. A horrible sense bowled her over. She was losing altitude. In one blink, her sight returned, and a valley of jagged boulders glinted maliciously beneath her. With one strong gust of wind, her breath was knocked out of her, and she tumbled towards the ground.
But a pair of strong claws clasped onto her, and then she was flying, with Ares soaring just over her. His ebony fur glistened, like he was glowing, and his muscled wings and body showed no scars. He looked so natural in the air, with wind ruffling his fur and his eyes focused on the distance. When he saw her, he smiled. She couldn't look away.
The next thing she knew, they had landed. Without preface, Ares's wings were wrapped around her. She hadn't felt so secure in an incredibly long time. It was everything she had imagined it to be; his scent, his warmth, the texture of his fur. She could somehow tell what he wasn't saying. He loved her, and had ever since he knew she existed.
It felt like a miracle.
Here, there was no darkness. There was nothing to hide, no secrets or misunderstandings. Maybe Ares could tell that if she could love, she would love him too. Maybe she was still a monster. But somehow, wrapped in Ares's wings, it was hard to believe. She could love. And she did.
"No!"
No? What was no? She shook her head, trying to make sense of it. The voice sounded so ghostly, so far away...and yet she could feel its power, its passion... its fear. Ares smiled sadly at her, because he knew. She tried to speak, tried to ask what was going on-
And then she was in agony. Something was incredibly, terribly wrong with her- bleeding, iciness inside her, burning scars, and maybe even gaping holes in her body. Her senses were going haywire, and her mind couldn't register it through all the signals of pain it was receiving.
Voices. Hazy, incapable of being fully heard. The speakers overlapped each other, so nothing could sound familiar.
"Is she..."
"The other gnawers-"
"-blood-flow!"
"A spectacular swoop-"
"Must take her..."
"-stay here, I will take care..."
"-other injuries besides hers-"
"Are you well?"
"Can you do it?"
"Now!"
Hands groped at her. A warm surface pressed against her stomach- she was lying on her front- and air cut through her fur. As if she was flying, but she was not. Noises, drowned out by the speed at which she was travelling. She struggled to inhale; the scent, the surface on which she was lying on seemed familiar, even comforting. Her focus began to fade- her head lightened as she rose, rose...dipped...
Thump. Footsteps, in a stone hallway far from empty. Moans from people who sounded as tortured as she felt. Warmth against her stomach evaporated, to be replaced with many arms and hands carrying her on her back. She would squirm when the world stopped spiralling around her.
Darkness. Her eyes could not adjust to wherever she was. Warmth gave way to a smooth, cold rock surface. Cold, very cold. She could be trembling. The wounds etched into her back seared as they adjusted. Something pressed against- into- her gut. She couldn't do anything to stop the pain, only feel it.
More voices, hushed and rapid. Cold things, metal things prodding her everywhere. The area below her chest was on fire. Was she hungry? Was this an effect from the cold? And where was Ares?
A wing stroked her cheek and ran down to the tip of her wing, while another settled itself on her chest. Pain flared in her back. No matter. A single voice, crisp and clear: "Adrian?"
That was her. Her breath wavered as she tried to respond. She wanted to respond. That voice and those wings made her feel as good as Ares had made her feel. Safe. Loved.
Wings jerked away. More prodding at her. She wanted to protest. Where were the wings?
The voice cried out, startled. It seemed to be moving further away. "No, let me go, I must-"
Another voice, closer and muffled, muttered something about "operate". A bottle was held to Adrian's lips, and a bittersweet liquid with a sickly mineral taste flooded into her mouth. She moaned- her head turned into lead the moment she swallowed.
The voice again, distant and panicked. "Adrian!"
A surge of energy jolted through her at that voice. From the cry, she rememebered that someone cared about her, and whoever it was had been here. Another bottle jammed against her lips, and she tried to turn her head from it. She had to find the voice, had to know... The liquid trickled down her throat. Her insides froze over, and someone stuck something long and cold and sharp into her. This wasn't right. She wanted the voice that was being taken away from her, the voice that made it better...
Adrian found the strength to open her eyes and find the voice before she blacked out.
It was Darius.
Forgive the length and the confusion, but the next chapter will have an explanation and another thing that Adrian has been waiting a long time for. That is, as long as people express interest...
