Dusk of the Realm

15

Tarin took a step forward and lifted his sword. The Infernal was already as good as dead, but that was not good enough for him. He gripped the blade tight and swept it down in a steady arc, beheading the rebel in one smooth stroke. The head flew from the Infernal's shoulders from the force of Tarin's blow and bounced along the ground four times before coming to a stop.

"Sir, Ambrose is barely breathing!"

He spun and sheathed his sword in the same breath, glancing towards where Vice was kneeling beside his newest Wolf. It was fortunate that Tarin did not get rattled easily, particularly in battle situations. Ambrose was in bad shape; if Tarin had to guess, he would say that the Fae would not make it through the night if not given professional help. While Vice was surely aiding him with whatever remained of her magic, she was not a Curer, was not trained in the healing arts to the level that the Curers of the castle were. They needed to get him back to Azure.

"Wulf!"

Tarin blinked. He had forgotten the Eternal was there. When he turned his head, he saw that Isaiah was back on his feet now, and though he looked in poor condition as well, he did not seem to be in much pain. However, he was shouting curses, and yelling Tarin's name over and over again as he pounded on the heavy shield Tarin had built up to protect Serena from harm.

Then Tarin saw why he was trying so desperately to break through the wall, and he did not think any further. He just ran.

The human girl that had followed Isaiah through the Portal was on the ground, unmoving except for the occasional twitching of her arms and legs, as if the muscles were spasming of their own accord. She was partially hidden from his view due to the height of the wheat surrounding her, but as he got closer, Tarin thought he could see drool dribbling down her cheek. Her eyes were closed and her face was scrunched in what could only be pain, though she did not make a sound.

He gathered all of that in a passing glance - passing, because what was happening to the human was not nearly as alarming to him as what was happening to his princess.

Serena was propping herself up on the invisible wall of magic with one hand, but even as he watched, she seemed to half-collapse against it. Her arm folded as if it had lost its strength, and she whimpered from her slumped position. He could see her hands trembling, her eyes blinking more rapidly than they should be. It was when her legs began to wobble that he forced the wall to crumble and put on a burst of speed in order to catch her before she fell to the ground, pushing Isaiah aside as he did so. Even if the Eternal did bring her back into the Realm, it would be a long time before Tarin would trust one of his kind to lay a hand on his princess.

He was painfully aware of the bareness of her back; not just because touching her skin made the magic flowing through his body seem to go haywire, but because she was cold as ice. He had not been expecting the temperature, and it shot from his arms into the rest of his body the instant she tumbled into his grip, surprising him enough that he nearly dropped her.

Tarin gathered the princess up into one arm and moved his free hand up to her face, gently but persistently rubbing his thumb along her cheek, trying to get her to respond to the touch. "Princess. Princess, can you hear me?"

Her eyelids fluttered, but she could not seem to speak past the chattering of her teeth. Meanwhile, the human girl was still on the ground, looking like she would be screaming if she were not somehow trapped in her own skin, prevented from acknowledging anything but her pain. Serena, at least, seemed semi-conscious, but her trembling was growing severe enough to cause Tarin's panic to rise with renewed vigor.

"Vice. Vice, I need you!" he called. He began rubbing Serena's upper arm with his hand, hoping the friction would do something to raise her body temperature, though he did not notice any change. "Vice!"