Escape
Nothing happened. His body was still numb. His mind was still reeling. His thoughts were still scattered. But he wasn't dead.
He opened his eyes. Still the same scene as before. Liz on the stairs, frozen mid-scream. The Warden above him, energy-wreathed fist burying itself in the centre of his chest. He looked at the injury in a moment of detached interest. His shirt had been vapourised. The surfacemost flesh had been burned away, exposing the blackened bones beneath. The magic had yet to pass through his ribcage and into his lungs, but it was only a matter of time. Or rather, it wasn't.
Because time was frozen.
Now he was more confused than ever. What was going on? Why wasn't he dead? What was he looking at? Was this just another image? It had to be, if nothing was changing. But why was he seeing this? Why had he seen the other ones? Half the memories which had flashed by weren't even his in the first place.
He focussed on the Warden in front of him, struggling to bring his shattered mind to bear, and began to notice things. This picture wasn't as still as he'd thought. The shifting colours of the Warden's magic- which had previously writhed with a mind of their own- weren't entirely motionless. Nearly, but not quite. He turned his head to the side, and found himself looking at a speck of dirt, suspended in mid-air. He watched it and, after what must have been minutes of scrutiny, realised that its position wasn't quite the same as it had been before. Time wasn't frozen. It was slow, unbearably slow, but it hadn't stopped.
This changed things. If time was passing, he couldn't be imagining this. It was real. He was watching himself die, in slow motion. Someone had slowed his time. Why? Who? There was nobody else here. Lamb wasn't a sorcerer. If it was the Warden, he'd be spending time gloating. So it had to be Liz- but why? Why slow it for him, and not herself? He hadn't known she was a mage, but if she was then why not use the ability to escape? With time slowed to this degree, it would be child's play to make a break for it. Unless...
She'd never told him she could use magic. He didn't think she'd have lied to him about that, so she might not have known herself; which meant that she might not be able to use it properly. Did she even know she was doing it now? What if it was instinctive, and her instincts had led her to affect him instead? What if it took too much energy to sustain while escaping? What if she couldn't move whilst using it? That meant he was her only hope. When the Warden was done with him he'd kill her next.
She might die if he didn't step in. Did he step in? He didn't know if he had the energy.
That's an excuse. You know you do.
Okay, so maybe he did. But did he want to take action? All the pain would return again. He was quite comfortable in this elated numbness.
Move.
He didn't want to. He'd done enough already, hadn't he? He'd taken her in. He'd fed her. Sheltered her. Clothed her. Wasn't it time she dealt with her own problems?
I'm your guardian angel. I want to guard you.
Spoken as a joke. He hadn't meant it. It had just been funny at the time.
Leave the Wardens to me.
That had been different. He hadn't known things would turn out like this. It wasn't his fault he was unable to fulfil his promise.
Move.
Did he really care that much? He'd made such a badass parting speech only moments ago. If he survived, wouldn't it all have been for nothing?
Petty.
Perhaps. But it had been the perfect farewell. If he got up now, it would all have been ruined.
She'll die.
Everybody dies.
Move.
He couldn't. This was a Warden he was talking about. He couldn't fight one of them.
Have you ever tried?
He didn't need to. Did he? The Wardens were invincible- weren't they?
Move.
There were worse things they could do than kill him. Did he really want to take that risk?
Move.
Shouldn't he just play it safe? A quick and painless death? It didn't sound bad.
Elizabeth. Move.
Could he do it? Could he really do it?
Move.
He'd never heard of anybody who could beat a Warden. Could he be the first?
Move.
That would be nice. He'd be a hero.
Move.
And he couldn't really leave Liz, could he?
Move.
Then he didn't really have a choice, did he?
Move.
He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. He didn't want this. He wasn't looking forward to this. He wasn't going to like this. But he didn't have any choice.
Move.
Fine then, he opened his eyes, burning with resolve, have it your way. I'll move.
Time crashed back into existence. His right hand flashed out, grabbing the Warden by the wrist and wrenching his fist off to the side. The Hellcannon fired, and the ground beneath him exploded into a hurricane of grit and superheated air.
The Warden stopped. "Wha-?"
Lamb bunched up both legs, bringing them to his chest then lashing out as one, hitting the knight square in the chest and sending him flying into the air. The Warden smashed into the timbers of the ceiling, shattering them like an eggshell as Lamb rose blackened and bleeding to his feet. Then he began to fall back down to earth, flailing wildly like an overturned beetle.
Lamb brought his right foot up, up, above his head, leg outstretched. The falling man reached level with him, and it might have been his imagination but Lamb was sure he made contact with a pair of stunned and even frightened eyes. Then he slammed his foot down, heel splitting the air like a headsman's axe and striking him, with all the strength he could muster, in the small of his back.
His boot buckled, tearing apart under the force, ripping itself to pieces. The bone of his heel cracked open. The sorcerous breastplate buckled beneath it; then the Warden crashed into the ground with all the strength of a falling star. The earth quaked and the building shook, foundations falling apart under the onslaught. Glass windows bent and shattered in their frames. Dirt, grit and splinters flew in every direction. Another wall gave way; the overstressed tavern began to groan in protest.
Liz froze, blinking stupidly. "Huh?"
"Stupid!" Lamb bolted over to her, throwing her unceremoniously over his shoulder. "Stupid!" He made for the door, stopping on a whim to grab his statue under his other arm as he fled. "Stupid!" He raced without pause from the scene, grime-coated, sweating and bleeding. Behind him, flames began to spout from the windows of the ruined tavern, and the second floor began to fall.
"Why are we still running?" Liz called into his ear a short while later, pounding at his back in a futile attempt to make him drop her.
"Stupid girl!"
"What are you saying?"
"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"
"Enough!" She was screaming now. "Just stop! Put me down! We're safe!"
"Safe?" Lamb burst into hysterical laughter, half-delirious through pain and fear. "Safe? Think we're safe? Think I beat him?" He laughed again, blood and spittle raining from his broken lips. "I just pissed him off! Now they're gonna kill us slowly. They're gonna cut us into itty bitty pieces an' make us eat 'em! Stupid girl! Stupid!"
"Why," she screamed back in his ear, fists beating vainly against him, "what have I got to do with it!? I saved your life!"
"Saved my life?" He threw back his head, cackling manically. "You stupid girl! He didn't even know you were there!"
"You would have died!"
"I was fine!"
"You were beaten half to death!"
"Yeah! Half! You shoulda seen the other guy!"
"I did! You hadn't scratched him!"
"He was wearing armour!"
"Exactly! You were helpless!"
"He was armoured! You've no idea what he looked like! He coulda been beaten three quarters to death!"
"What?"
"What?"
The argument died as abruptly as it had begun. Lamb tried to focus simply on running.
Calm down. Breathe.
I am breathing!
Just run. Don't fight it. One foot after the other.
One foot after the other? I'm a goddamn dead man! We're both gonna die!
Despite his panicked state of mind, he found himself doing so anyway. One foot after the other. One had a boot on it. The other didn't. He found that funny for some reason. Left. Right. Left. Right. The cobbles flashing by beneath his feet. The buildings blurring into one, spinning past in a haze as he ran, faster than any man alive.
Every now and then a patrol spotted them and fired an arrow or two, but Lamb ignored them. He was faster than them; they'd never be able to hit him. And besides, he was well outrunning the word of his actions. Most simply saw him fly past, and knew nothing of he or Liz's fugitive status.
Ten minutes passed, and he made no signs of slowing. He'd had time to think, and although he wasn't entirely composed, he wasn't borderline insane anymore either. The pain was horrific but strangely bearable, and however grim their situation might be he felt sure that there was still hope yet.
"Lamb?" Elizabeth's voice was shaken, nervous, but urgent too.
"What?" He didn't mean to snap at her but it came out like that anyway, and she flinched as he spoke. He cringed inwardly, guilty already.
"He's here."
Swearing, he risked a glance back over his shoulder. A half mile back, fire burning from its hooves as it scattered everyone in its path, the warhorse was carrying its rider after them. The Warden was singed and scuffed, but didn't appear overly injured. He had his greatsword clenched in his right hand, and the reins clasped tightly in his left. As predicted, it seemed all Lamb had done was make him mad.
There was still hope, though. Lamb wasn't tired or out of breath- he could push himself further. Could he outrun a horse? Maybe. With his physical abilities, it might be worth a shot.
He picked up the pace, amazed he'd never tried this before. He'd always known he was strong, but never tried using that strength to run with- he'd never had any reason to. Now he found his legs powering him onwards like machines, bounding towards salvation, covering many yards and clearing entire streets in a single bound. Forget horses, he grinned despite everything, they didn't hold a hope in hell of keeping up. He was insane, he was inhuman; he had to be the fastest being alive!
"Lamb," Liz tapped his shoulder, and he snapped out of his ego trip.
"What?"
"They're getting closer."
A second's pause. "Huh?"
He glanced over his shoulder again, uncomprehending. She was imagining it- she had to be. The fastest horse in all the worlds shouldn't be able to catch him. But, stunningly, it was. Still a good distance off, but closing rapidly. It shouldn't have been, it didn't seem to be running particularly quickly, but... his eyes narrowed. It was out of step. The horse was running alright, but its hooves when they touched down weren't in sync with the ground. It was like it was running on air.
He swore, loudly and repeatedly, scorching the air. Bloody Wardens! Bloody Wardens and their bloody magic! As he thought it, a fireball flew past to his right, exploding against the front of somebody's house. He swore again.
Faster, he had to go faster; but he was at his limit. This was as far as he could go. He considered for a split-second giving up and handing himself in, but thrust the idea from his mind. Stupid thoughts. Damn it all!
The great walls of the city rose up before him, and the slightest ember of hope began to kindle in his breast. Never give up. Never back down. There is no such thing as an unwinnable fight.
Another Hellcannon shot flew past and blew up against the road before him. He pressed on through the debris cloud, wincing as the shards of stone opened scores of little wounds across his body. Further. Just a little. Come on!
He reached the foot of the walls, not slowing in the slightest. Five or six yards tall, crenulated, manned by gods knew how many guards. The gates were open a minute ago, but they'd been closed at the explosions. He didn't have a choice- he had to go up. Could he do it? Only one way to find out.
"Hold on!"
"What do you-?"
He ignored the distraction of her voice, pouring every last ounce of his energy into the task at hand. Twenty yards to the walls. Ten. He hurled himself to the right, leaping up in the air. Three high. Maybe he should've slowed more. Then a building rose up beside him and he kicked off from it, using it as a springboard to launch himself higher and higher.
The stone of the walls flew by below him, inches away, ripping all the skin from his right forearm, but then he was over it. The ground rose up to meet him and he hit it, touching down hard with bone-cracking force, teeth threatening to rattle out of his gums. Liz over one arm and his statue under the other, he couldn't break into a roll and had no choice but to accept the impact. He felt his ankle break and forced himself backwards, leaning away from the earth as he skidded across the ground, ripping up topsoil and clumps of grass as he slid to an unsteady stop.
He fell to his knees, exhausted and in agony. He noticed distractedly that Liz was screaming hysterically in his ear. How long had she been doing that? Since you jumped. Huh. Maybe she was scared of heights.
He raised his head, well beyond the point of collapse. The forest. They'd be through the gates soon, but if he could get to the forest he might just stand a chance. After that, who knew?
Running. Panting. Sweat and blood in his eyes. A tree exploding to his left, splinters burying themselves in his side. No time to think about it.
The Warden was still behind him, firing cannonball after cannonball as he chased him down, but now he'd lost the advantage. The forest was thick here, and getting thicker. You couldn't ride in it, and the knight was being slowly left behind. Judging from the volume of magic directed his way, Lamb assumed he wasn't very happy about that fact.
He pressed further into the forest, the world beginning to darken under the canopy. The cannonballs had become more and more sporadic, until they appeared to tail off entirely, but that was no indication that they were safe. For all he knew the Warden was just toying with him.
He gave it a while longer before finally concluding that they really were safe. It was surprisingly difficult, he found, to get his legs to stop- they were so used to running, after nearly an hour of it, that they'd almost forgotten how to walk. Still, he brought himself to a stuttering halt. He placed his statue neatly in the soil beside him, then dropped Liz gracelessly into the dirt.
She leaped straight to her feet, spluttering in outrage, but stopped short when she saw the state he was in. "Oh, my God," her eyes widened like saucers, "What-?"
"Cut myself shaving," he growled, more than a little irritated.
"But-"
"No buts." He allowed his legs to give way beneath him, falling backwards into the deliciously soft earth. He wasn't physically tired as such- his body could still go a lot further- but his mind was in ruins. Too many near-death experiences for one day; and far, far, too much pain. "I'm fine."
She rushed to his side, panicking, and he slapped her hands aside when she tried to sit him upright. Her face fell. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't-"
"Stupid girl." He laughed, weakly but condescendingly. "How's it your fault?"
Her face broke down, and she began to cry. "You were trying to protect me. If I hadn't turned up-"
"I'd still be bored as hell, yeah. Think you forced me?"
She looked away. "It doesn't matter. If I hadn't turned up, you wouldn't be dying."
That snapped him harshly back into reality. He blinked, suddenly sitting upright and choking in outrage. "You what!? D'you say I was dying!?"
Liz paled, trembling. "No! No, of course not! You're going to be just-"
"Stupid girl!" He broke into a self-deprecating grin. "Stupid, stupid, girl. Think something like this could kill me?"
"No, I never-"
"Gods- all the girls in the world and I get stuck with the thickest of the lot."
A moment's pause as that sank in. "Hey!"
The grin slipped from his face, and he looked at her earnestly, waiting for her to meet his gaze before continuing. "I'm fine. There ain't no problem."
She looked away again, downcast. "How can you say that?" Then she looked back at him, remembrance flickering in her eyes. "And how did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"When you... with the Warden- and the wall- and... everything!"
"How'd you heal so fast?"
"I don't know."
"Then there ya go."
"But that's not the same!"
"Close enough."
"No it's not. It's-"
"Liz?"
"Yes?"
"I'm tired. Let me sleep."
"But can-"
"Let. Me. Sleep."
A short pause, as she weighed up the values of interrogating him and letting him rest. "Fine. But this isn't over. Once we're out of here, you're going to answer my questions."
"Yeah, whatever." He rolled onto his side, back to her as he closed eyes. Stupid girl. He was what he was. He did what he did. He was just Lamb- wasn't he?
03/07/15
Okay, so up until now the updates for this have been very sporadic, for a number of reasons. Now it appears I have a lot more time on my hands, and so I can finally get into a regular routine for updating. As of now, new chapters are uploaded every Friday, with the possibility of additional irregular updates should I prove particularly productive.
