kreios
don't you tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash I was stumbling as I reached for the shard, and just as I feel the cool stone between my catlike teeth I finally fall. For a moment I think that I have dropped the shard (I can no longer feel it between my teeth), but as I push myself upright, the strangest sensation begins to spread through my body.
It is like nothing else I have ever felt before, and for a moment I do not feel my injuries. The burning sensation in my paw subsides, and it is easier to move my head (I am especially grateful for this as I regain my balance). The enraged sheik of Conquest reaches my ears at the same time that Lucrezia reaches my side. I lean into her, the weight of the seal preternaturally heavy, and I am grateful for her familiar warmth at my side.
One moment she is beside me, injured but alive, and the next moment she is gone.
"Lucrezia!" I shout, looking around frantically for the amber mare, "Lucrezia!" The world around me flickers, first grey, then green, and I shut my eyes as though that will stop it. When I open them it is to the sound of the second seal shattering.
There will be another monster coming, I know. Conquest has a companion, and given his wretchedness I do not have any hope that it will be a creature any less terrible. The sound of approaching hooves is terrible, a thundering the likes of which I have never heard, and I know that I must find a piece of his seal or risk his escape to Beqanna. War – the name echoes in my head, and I know that this beast is even worse than the one before.
The monsters are regrouping, offering we gathered few a temporary respite as they reassemble. With the field of battle less cluttered, I can see the small group of horses that have gathered together. They are allies, I decide; I will stand beside them.
A large piece of the second seal has landed conveniently beside me when it shattered, and it is almost too easy to place my hoof upon it and feel it seep inside me. It is cool, like the fresh spring that waters the canyons of the Orange Country, and I realize that if I do not escape this purgatory that I will never see the place again.
With a shake of my head (the tension of muscles remains, but is far weaker now), I charge forward. My right shoulder is bloody from my run-in with the armored bear, and my gallop is staggered, but I am still faster than the limping hellhound. I extend the claws on all four feet (is it easier to do than a moment ago, or is it my imagination?) and simply run over the hellhound, feeling its black body crumple beneath my weight.
I feel pulled in a multitude of directions, but the strongest draw is towards the children, the closest of which is the chestnut colt. War - because that monstrous creature must be War - kicks at him and the sight of blood on the boy's body is somehow worse than it is on my own. He is not quite a child anymore, but he is still possessed of boyish awkwardness, and the blood on his copper sides is al the more revolting for it. He should be home, watching over younger siblings and learning from his father, and instead he is hear fighting at the end of the world.
Rhonen turns to run and War pursues him, but Rhonen won't know that. I run between them, digging in my feet to stop as quickly as I can, and for the first time in my life feel dwarfed by another creature. War is tall, taller even than my imposing height, and for a moment I feel as though I am a child again. I expect the demon to attack, so when he draws up short and smiles, I freeze.
"Hello Kreios," he says, and somehow I am not surprised that he knows my name. Some part of me expects a conversation like the one he had with the others, so the lightning fast bite to my head sends me reeling. His teeth are razor sharp, and I barely manage to pull away and avoid the loss of my eye. The rest of my face is not so lucky, and I am horrified to see that hanging from War's teeth between the blood and red hair is a bit pale flesh that used to be my left ear.
I feel the blood welling on the side of my head and the gooey warmth as it drips down my neck. The rumble of my heartbeat is suddenly doubly loud and concentrated in my head, and through the red haze over my eyes I see War rearing up to strike.
This time I manage to duck away more quickly, but his hooves land on my shredded right shoulder and I scream in pain. "What do you want?!" I yell, not expecting an answer as I turn away and try to run. I cannot defeat a creature designed for War (or who designed war?), but perhaps I can lead him away from the others. “Coward,” he says as I turn, “You are an embarrassment, a terrible warrior, a weakling. I am ashamed.” I hear my father in his words but do not turn to contradict him – I can only run.
A bite at my hindquarters as I go convinces me that I have succeeded, but when I turn to confront him War has disappeared and a pair of two-headed coyotes are at my heels. Four pairs of strong jaws grab for my hind legs, and while a running buck dispatches the body of two heads the second is quicker, and darts away before circling back around.
Dripping blood obscures the vision in my left eye, but I turn to face the monster with my good eye. I snarl, a sound that has always been enough to scare away the real coyotes that haunted the edges of my headlands, but this one remains unperturbed. It lunges and I rear up and bat at it with clawed feet. I land a few good strikes - nothing deadly - but they are enough to send the creature whimpering away to regroup.
My attention is caught by the nearest movement, and it is the black and white filly, running towards where another seal lays complete on the ground.
Does she mean to break it? Has she sided with Conquest and with War?
Or is she trying to protect it? I've not heard her calls over the cacophony of battle, and I move to intercept her regardless. I am distracted by the sight on Conquest stalking the edges of the battle and coming towards us. Instinct overrides reason, a side effect of my years away from Beqanna, and I turn my back on where Weaver and the other black and white mare are standing beside the seal. Keep them safe, instinct says, protect them.
I mirror the yellow-eyed stallion's stalking circle, keeping myself between him and the seal where Weaver and Titanya stand. For the first time I am moving slowly and I take a moment to assess my injuries. My right shoulder is mess of blood and tattered skin, and there is a biting ache when I place weight on my foreleg. I have not felt this before, but know a large muscle has been torn, and that without magical assistance it will rot and I will die. My hearing is minimal - literally half of what it was - and the steady drip of blood obscures the vision in one eye if I do not keep shaking my head, which only worsens the bleeding. The coyotes can landed bites on my haunches and hind legs, but they are small punctures compared to my shoulder.
There are two more monsters coming, I realize, and they will come when the seals are broken. Where is the lamb? Where is the seal breaker?
|
|
|
