Author's Notes: Wow, it has been awhile! Sorry for such a long delay guys, but I've been having trouble with my leisure time lately, and college life and summer holidays has really sapped my strength to carry on and do anything. But here I am, with the long awaited FIFTH CHAPTER! It's long, but I hope it's worth it.
More to come! Enjoy the read guys!
-Raven
Chapter 4: Remembering the Storm
"We've landed, your highness."
It was the familiar voice of Kylenn that woke me from my daydream. Indeed, the ship had landed in the hanger bay, and the ramp was opening. I unfastened the buckles of my seat and let my two guards escort me outside.
"Thank you, men. You may return to your posts."
"Your highness," they bowed respectfully before they left to their other duties.
Femur joined me just after I sent the guards away, seeing the melancholic look that failed to wane from the past weeks of lamenting. With a comforting hand on my shoulder, he led me to the exit doors that connected to the medical facilities.
We wandered down large corridors past a number of occupied rooms. All were filled with the sick and wounded, most of which were casualties from the destruction inflicted by the raid. The soldiers were in poor shape, and the morale was waning among the faces of the men ever since the attack. The news of Pyrus' injuries had brought the fire people within an inch of spiritual collapse, which threatened to diminish the already disappearing strength of the Alliance. But now, despite the heavy losses, it was at least comforting that Pyrus was able to wake from his coma.
I just hoped things would get better.
Femur paused before a closed door, where the readout display near the control panel read Pyrus' name. He looked at me and nodded, a gesture of his hand pointing to the doorway.
Mustering up all my available courage, I pressed the open command on the panel, making my way into the room slowly.
There was an amassed crowd, having formed around the bed that occupied part of the west wall. Graveheart was speaking at the time, but I couldn't articulate what he was saying. Femur walked further into the room.
"Hey guys, she's here!" came his announcement. Everyone diverted their attentions, noticing me at the doorway. The reactions were somewhat laced with glee and anticipation, kind of like the contented looks people give to little babies. I could feel my cheeks glow from the embarrassment.
"Zera," said Graveheart respectfully. "You're here. Just in time."
I looked up at the faces of the people that adorned the room; an assembly of different cultures in different shapes and forms, enriching the ethnicity of the bond our peoples shared. But most important of all, they were also my family. There was Graveheart and my father, who both gave gentle smiles. Jade and Tekla gave encouraging glances, while Zuma simply bowed. Femur took his place alongside the others, smiling suspiciously. Pelvis, his somewhat humble servant, nodded his respect.
The crowd parted as to allow me passage.
And there he was, lying there draped in a blanket as he breathed weakly through the oxygen mask, eyes half-open and weary. As I approached him, he turned his head slightly in my direction, managing a half-grin through the pain searing his lower body. Unmistakably, this was none other than Pyrus.
For a moment, I shook nervously as I slowly closed the distance between us. Never had I imagined how tense I was when the scenario came before me; Pyrus was awake, and he was smiling at me. But there were no words that I could muster which would express the bliss I felt, looking into those eyes. . .
My face contorted into exasperation, when I remembered the others in the room.
The shuffles of several pairs of feet, as well as the silent whir of the door sliding shut were the only sounds that echoed within the room before the silence became apparent. For what felt like years, there was only the beep of the heart monitor, the heaves of Pyrus' breathing, and finally, the sound of his voice.
"Hey princess."
For a minute, it felt like my heart would rupture from the tension. My shoulders eventually learned to relax, and I managed to respond with a slight smirk.
"Lavahead."
Pyrus gave an alleviated sigh, the signs of fatigue wearing away at his features. "You don't change do you?"
"No," I scoffed. "I guess not."
I sat in the empty chair next to his bedside. We exchanged curious glances, as if we were conversing telepathically, trying to decipher what had happened to us since our long period of separation. The sad smile stayed imprinted on his face, locking me in place. From there, we shared the passing moments quietly.
I couldn't tell what he was thinking, the way his eyes hazed halfway between sleep and consciousness. If only I could tell what he was thinking about right now, the way he stared at me with those deep blue irises. Zuma offered to read his thoughts once for my sake, when he was still in his coma, so maybe. . .
No. . . it wasn't necessary – I told her I would learn of his thoughts when he awoke; invading his privacy would forever shatter whatever reverence he had towards me. My faith in his strength was never wrong, and the fact that he was alive now affirmed it. The things I wanted to say, now lost in my struggle for words, was what kept me muted, but neither of us seemed to mind though as we drank in each other's presence.
Our minds seemingly drifted from the surrounding room, remembering the day that had led to this moment, as our gazes became lost in one another's. . .
- - - - - - -
Another volley of null energy skimmed the hull of the bladewing, taking its toll on the lonely fighter, and on the both of us contained inside. We were getting tossed around in our seats as Pyrus attempted to avoid the damage as much as possible. But as good a manoeuvrable ship it was, and as experienced as Pyrus was at piloting, we were still outnumbered and outgunned by seventeen fighter drones, who now clung in hot pursuit.
"We can't take much more of this!" said Pyrus as he looked at the extensive damage readings on his left HUD; besides the hull damage, only half the guns were working, one of the turning thrusters were malfunctioning, and several of the auxiliary systems were offline.
"Hello? Hello? Come in anyone?" I cried frantically into the commlink. "This is Princess Zera and Prince Pyrus, and we're under heavy att-!" Sparks and flame discharged from the panel in reply, making me jolt back into my seat. "Even the comm's been shot!"
"No kidding!" Pyrus coughed, trying not to get distracted as the thickening smoke began to obscure his vision. Then the ship shook as it became wreathed in flame. "We've entered the atmosphere! We gotta find a place to land, or we're toast!"
"The co-ordinates are sketchy," I said, working with the erratic navmap display. "But I think I got a slight fix on the nearest landing field!"
"You sure?"
"Do you doubt me?" I scowled.
"Just checking!"
As the descent through the atmosphere ended, he pushed the control yolk forward, sending the bladewing down into a steep dive. I hung onto dear life as the g-forces threatened to tear the carapace off my body.
"Hold on Zera, this is gonna be a bumpy ride!" exclaimed Pyrus, with a lace of insanity in his sarcasm.
I managed a confused smirk; that line seemed too familiar.
He piloted the fighter low into a mountain chain, rolling left and right as he steered around the rocky outcroppings that protruded from the surface. Enemy fire continued to stream past us, signalling that the beast drones were still gaining. I caught a glimpse of two of the fighters both trying to circumvent a stalactite, only to crash into one another, then gyrating and hitting solid rock at Mach 3 before the spectacle became hidden behind the blind spot.
"That's two less to worry about," I reported. It brought us only small comfort.
Pyrus maintained an extreme focus ahead of him, as I looked at him to assess his well-being. I followed his stare to a large mountainous wall, and it was getting larger as we closed in. A large narrow vertical fissure in the distance marked the entrance to a steep chasm, his intended target.
"Pyrus," I shook my head frantically in protest. "No way, no way! We're not going in the-!"
"We have a better chance through their than in a dogfight. Just sit tight, ice top."
The intensity in his face frightened me along with his unusually calm voice, leaving me too petrified to even start an argument. It was evident my life was in his hands for the time being.
We entered the chasm within a few short minutes, where there was even less space to navigate, but just as difficult for the beast drones. I watched as four more of the beast fighters collided into the rocks, their manoeuvring hindered by the density of beast ships between them. Besides the three that continued the chase, the rest broke off from formation, heading in some other direction, probably towards a more important target. Pyrus continued to skilfully lead the ship through the chasm, dodging enemy fire, as our pursuers came in matching speed.
It was then that I noticed the chasm was getting narrower every second.
"Pyrus. . ." I urged him quietly, touching his right arm, which was extremely tense as it clutched the control yolk.
"I know Zera," he said reassuringly, reaching over his left hand to touch mine. He looked at me from his peripheral vision, and grinned slightly. "Trust me." His tone was soothing, even while death was nipping at our heels.
I nodded, and he switched hands this time so that his right gripped onto my extended left. The reaction of our different body chemistries again triggered the common event that vented from between our fingertips. Steam filled the empty space that separated us as we clutched tightly, enveloped by the strange sensations of each other's touch. I hazed in and out of my thoughts as I breathed in some of the vapour, which made the tingling drip further down my spine. We were no stranger to this sort of thing, but from all the times I gathered of the both of us, having touched or gripped one another, either during our sparring practices or in our petty arguments, never had we held like this before . . .
Reality came rushing back the moment Pyrus pulled the control yolk back, bringing the bladewing into a sudden vertical climb, barely missing the chasm's dead-end. My hand loosed from his just as quickly. Following the sharp manoeuvre were the sounds of exploding null energy, marking the head-on impact of two beast drones into the dense earth, with the escalating volume of something slicing the air at high speed directly behind us.
"Eat my dust, freak," he mutters under his breath. A slight smirk... accompanied by a gentle squeeze of the trigger.
The remaining forward cannons fired rapidly upward into the rock wall, sending a shower of particles and debris down on top of us, growing thicker as it descended downwards. We passed through it easily, the rest followed in desired effect.
The Beast drone watched as the dust cloud engulfed his ship, everything past his field of vision became smothered in a vaccum of brown and black. He quickly looks to his readings-
And like his friends, he didn't see how close the rocks were.
As we broke clear of the chasm, the air became calm again, absent of a pursuer or of incoming fire. Both of us breathed a long sigh of relief, working off the strain of the entire ordeal.
"That was close. . ." I gasped between deep calming breaths. "Remind me never to ride with you again."
"When you ride Air-Pyrus, you ride first class," he chuckles weakly to his own joke, then stops to look over to his left, as if checking on something.
"That was so lame, Pyrus," I stated to him, trying to hold back any signs of amusement, but just slightly. He returns my look, displaying his trademark grin, before turning back to the view of the cockpit window, where indeed the looming eyesore of the Rock palace pierced the mist.
"We're here! The airfield is right there, just behind the palace!" I exclaimed, pointing at the nearly derelict outcropping of metal.
The alarm had indeed spread throughout all the planets; already the Rock troops were scrambling every Arrowhead into the air, moving out to repel the Beast invasion. It was my first time seeing such a spectacle from this angle.
We were skimming the mountain range, just a few hundred yards from the docking pads, nearly home free.
"I told you I was right," I boasted haughtily.
There was no reaction, except for an attempt to suppress a deep choking cough, probably due to the smoke still spewing from the burnt out control panels. He hunched somewhat, turning his head stiffly to his left. . .
"Um, Pyrus," I turned to him, seeing that his focus wasn't forward. "Pay attention please."
He lifts his head in reply, almost labouringly, the sacks under his eyes seeming to bulge more. It was when I felt the ship lean left, right into the-
"PYRUS! WATCH OUT!"
The image of the oncoming cliff earned a shaken gasp from Pyrus. He steered the bladewing in the opposite direction, saving us from a direct collision, but not from what was about to come next. The screech of tearing metal tore through our heads like a mad current before the bladewing began winding out of control.
"Pyrus!" I screamed, trying to reach for his controls, but the ship was tumbling too violently for me to grasp onto anything. The bladewing spun in three-sixties and the port side engine, gashed open by the sharp cliff, had caught fire. Through the chaos I saw Pyrus struggling with the reins with one hand, while his other seemed lost at his side. The alarms drowned out my cries to him as he fought to keep the ship level, the tension in his face tighter than ever.
The bladewing was accelerating abnormally, and the loose shaking of the outer hull plating meant it was ready to come apart at the seams. The ground came at us fast as Pyrus levelled the ship for a crash landing. I shut my eyes, screaming in terror as I conceived a painful demise, the high pitched whine in the air singing the death hymn to transition.
In an instant, almost all sound seemed to mute, and all I could sense was my body being tossed about the compartment, with the world vibrating around me as a storm seemed to rage outside my mind.
My eyes opened, and I found myself still strapped to my seat.
As soon as my head began to grasp the current situation, I inspected myself hastily for wounds. My eyes widened in surprise, after finding myself untouched by the apparent crash.
Sunlight was shining through the tears in the hull, with loose wires and circuits dangling from the scorched metal. The entrance platform that once sealed the rear portion of the bladewing lay twisted and bent in the trail of wreckage behind us some several yards away, its absence letting more of the light pour in. It was a clear assurance that I was alive.
The monitors in front of me caught fire, and I leapt out of my harnesses to avoid getting burned.
That was when I turned to Pyrus, who was still slouched in his seat, breathing heavily with his right hand dangling to his side, holding the control yolk snapped from its fixture.
My face contorted from disbelief to utter hatred, and I kept my distance as Pyrus turned his head towards me, his expression a mix of confusion, fear, and apology. His lips quivered, mouthing words to speak, but something within his voice seemed to fail him.
The feeling of having been within seconds of dying horribly came back to me; the way the ground seemed to come so fast, the way my life seemed to flash before my eyes before I could imagine myself being burned alive in the fiery crash. It was the most terrible feeling I had ever experienced. I entrusted Pyrus with my life, and he had almost thrown it away out of carelessness.
I clenched my fists and unleashed all my pent up emotional fury.
"You. . . you. . . YYYYOOOOUUUU!" I screamed at him, my body shaking madly. "WHAT IN THE GREAT GLACIER WERE YOU DOING! WE WERE HOME FREE AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN STAY FOCUSED FOR TEN-MORE-SECONDS!" My voice broke down at the last three words, and that was when I drew back and struck him in the face. He recoiled from the vicious blow, his face disappearing from sight, which was when I stormed out.
Trying to fight back the wetness in my eyes, I kept screaming. "YOU WERE ALWAYS LIKE THAT, PYRUS! YOU WERE ALWAYS THE HOTSHOT, WEREN'T YOU! ALWAYS RISKING EVERYTHING IN YOUR STUPID PLANS! NOT ONLY THAT, YOU HAVE TO DRAG ME ALONG IN THE PROCESS!"
I gasped for air, then continued. "MAYBE YOU GOT A DEATHWISH FOR YOURSELF, BUT I DON'T! OF ALL THE TIMES I'VE STUCK WITH YOU, I HAVE FINALLY HAD IT! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO MUCH! I HATE-"
When I turned around, the image that would haunt me for the weeks to come became freshly etched into my mind.
Pyrus was stumbling towards me, his legs dragging across the floor of the runway, yellow blood flowing from a gaping wound in his left side, his left arm dangling and dripping the same fluid. His face was badly bruised from the punch I gave him, blood dripping from his half-open mouth because of it. His eyes, sagging and filled with fatigue, were watery, wide, and desperate. He reached his right hand towards me, shaking badly, and that was when I saw his tears flowing. It was then I realized I had wounded him badly, worse than what the crash did to his body.
My knees buckled together along with my arms, my hands reaching to cover my mouth, to smother my urge to scream. I was frozen by pure terror, watching Pyrus lurch towards me like a ghost. A powerful sense of guilt came and stabbed me in the heart, as the state of Pyrus' wounds, and the recollection of the events during the flight, made me realize what had happened. The tears came, but they were no longer out of feelings of hatred.
"Pyrus..." I uttered from what was left of my voice. I reached out and moved towards him as well. "By the glacier... Pyrus... I-I'm so-"
Again, there was no sound, as my focus lay narrowed on Pyrus' face, filled with hurt and pleading...
Then, there was a bright flash from behind him...
His eyes widened out of surprise...
... His face came closer... his mouth opens to cry out...
... I saw the sky... the sun was setting...
... The ground struck my back... a warm sensation filled my body...
... The sky darkened with black shapes... I turn my head...
... Pyrus was staring at me... those gentle eyes...
... A man is wreathed in flame, flailing as hell burned around him...
I blinked rapidly, and saw the rock soldier scream as his uniform had caught fire. He pats himself desperately before careening over the side into the deep canyon below. I looked up and saw the fighter drones strafe the men on the runway, some scrambling to their own ships, while others fired back with their rifles. The sound of the anti-air defenses doing their work was deafening.
Then I turned back, and saw Pyrus' face close to mine, his arms draped around me protectively, and hoarse sounds of breath emanating from his lips, the bleeding in his wounds worse than before.
I gasped and got upright, finding myself in the shadow of an Arrowhead. Everyone was too distracted by the attack to help us, and Pyrus' condition needed immediate attention.
"S-stay here," I stuttered, and entered the Arrowhead, searching for a medkit. Finding one in the emergency compartment, I rushed back to his side. "On your back..." I whispered, easing him down. "That's it..." Gently laying him down flat, I soon saw the true severity of his condition; bits of shrapnel had been embedded in parts of his upper left arm, and the deep gash looked like it was caused by something big, and had been removed from the wound, probably beforehand by Pyrus. His blood was almost scalding, making it a little more difficult to touch him.
I whimpered and steadied myself.
"Hang on, Pyrus," I stifled a sob, and exhaled my nanites onto his wounded side. The wound half-closed and he flinched from the feeling of cold on his exposed flesh. I breathed in, and did it again, and again, but the wound refused to completely heal. He spluttered and more blood came out of his mouth, his breathing becoming a bit hoarser than before. My mind was in a panic, not knowing what else was wrong with him. I whispered soothing words into his ear as I turned him over again slightly.
Two deep marks were etched into his back as well, caused by two pieces of shrapnel, but they were deep into his flesh, and there was no way I could remove any ot them; I was no surgeon, and even if I was, I needed more than a medkit to save him.
A stale sort of greyness was spreading across his skin; something I had seen before, and I knew what it meant. His breathing became shallower, and he fluttered his eyes, struggling to stay awake. I had never felt this powerless since my mother's death.
"By the glacier..." I whimpered to myself, wrapping the bandages around his bleeding side, and trying to calm Pyrus. "There there... everything's going to be alright..." My voice was breaking, my mind knowing that the situation was the exact opposite.
Without saying a word, he put his bloodied hand over mine, at the same time turning his head to look at me. He massaged the back of my palm, and his breathing became slower. Our glances met, and while forcing back some of his pain, Pyrus smiled slightly.
For a moment I froze to this, seeing the calmness in his expression eerie. I couldn't decipher what it meant, since I was too worried about his condition to think about it. But after a few seconds of looking into those dark blue irises, I felt a deep sense of hope, and I returned a grin as well.
His eyes then began to wander, the smile fading from his features. That was when his head went slack, along with the grip in his hand. It wasn't long before the sudden realization struck me hard.
"No..." I shook my head, at first trying not to look at him. Then the tears came, and I only shook my head more violently. "No...! No! This isn't happening!" I turned to Pyrus's face again and held him even closer. "I won't let you!" I pressed my mouth to his, venting as many of my nanites as I could into him, my mind seething with desperation. I wasn't sure if what I was doing would work, but it was the only thing I could think of that might help him.
Sobbing quietly, I cradled his limp body in my lap, unwilling to look back at his empty stare. I didn't know how long I sat there beside him, but it felt like an eternity before the moment I collapsed.
The battle raged on, and the darkness soon took me...
- - - - - - -
I awoke four days later, having recovered from a severe nanite deficiency in my system.
The raid was thwarted off by the air defenses and fast responding pilots, leaving only a ragged mixed unit to retreat back into space. Pyrus and I were found sometime after I passed out.
He was much more worse off than I was; he had suffered everything from burns, bruises, cuts, gashes, broken ribs, shrapnel wounds, and internal bleeding, all which had been inflicted during our flight away from the beast drones (I could remember the exploding panels all too well), the crash, and finally the explosion from the wrecked bladewing. The doctors were amazed he could sustain himself for so long, long enough for me to give him the nanites that saved his life. They evidently slowed down a lot of his bleeding and healed some of his internal wounds, giving the field medics that discovered us time to carry him to the doctors.
And here we were, having emerged from that traumatic event, wondering where the time had passed.
We came back to our senses, the blipping of the heart monitor returning to our ears. It was the only noise that permeated the room, and filled the silent gap between us.
"Quite a right hook you got there."
My mind reeled over everything from the past two weeks; the nightmares, the ghostly image of Pyrus' mangled body, the thoughts of losing him forever, the crying, the worrying, that day at the burning airfield, the endless nights of mourning... and all the pain I had caused him, and all the apologies I should had, but didn't say.
Without thinking, I took hold of Pyrus' right hand in both of mine, and pressed it to my cheek, my body shaking madly. I closed my eyes tight and drew closer to his bedside, burying my face in the warmth of his palm.
I had never cried so hard in my life.