Life Support #wattys2015

Chapter 13: Fai

Fai watched Mary’s face regain color as he tied a long rope around the dragon’s torso so that he could climb back on after the journey. Mary sat behind him and Isaac behind her. He stretched his arm down and felt the knife in his pack, sharp enough to slice the pad of his thumb if he tested it. This knife was made for quick deaths and easy kills—he always felt better with it at his side. He removed the pack from his dragon’s saddle and put it on his back, not tying it yet. He would tie it before he left the dragon.

He let Ardor fly wherever it pleased. He didn’t know where the dead were, after all. Perhaps his dragon would.

Ardor flew towards the highest possible house on the surface, where they’d found Isaac the other day. The dragon still couldn’t land there, but they could fall safely onto it. The house’s pointed, sloped roof made Fai worry for Mary, but he didn’t show it. He tied his pack on his back tightly, so that it wouldn’t fall off.

He didn’t want to burn his hands fast-roping off the dragon—plus, he didn’t want the incompetent duo trying and miserably failing-- so he simply jumped off Ardor’s back and landed gracelessly on the house. A cloud of sand enveloped him immediately, and he coughed a few times before pulling a piece of fabric out of his pack and over his mouth and nose. He also took off his heels, which unbalanced him on the soft ground, and stuffed them in the pack before Mary followed, landing on the sloped roof carefully and sliding down before dropping gently on the desert sand, a small puff of dust rising in her wake. Isaac completely missed the house and landed on the soft sand, half the desert moving to the air because of his hard fall.

Mary put a hand over her mouth, and Fai noted, “Graceful, dead boy. Could you not see the house?” and offered Mary a scarf so she would stop coughing—it was all he had. He didn’t have time for incompetent followers—he would’ve left Isaac behind completely if not for Mary. She hadn’t asked Fai to allow the boy to follow, but she always bit her lip when they fought and she always shrunk into herself when Isaac glanced at her disapprovingly.

Mary hadn’t learned how to live in a world of cruelty yet (that much was obvious by her scars and her pacific behavior)—she needed Isaac to teach her how. Fai started the lesson—and she no longer lowered her head when he called her weak, she had started to stand up for herself—but he couldn’t be the only teacher.

Isaac would be just as cruel, but not on purpose. He would tell her to be quiet and interrupt her. He would take the knife of Mary’s doubt and twist it more effectively than Fai ever could—and Mary would heal herself. She couldn’t die again, after all, not without Fai’s help. And he knew that he couldn’t bring himself to bleed her dry and toss her over the side of the gorge like a bag of garbage.

Mary glanced at him, and winced for Isaac. Isaac, however, answered with a simple curse at Fai. Fai smirked and answered, “Says the boy who couldn’t land on a house even if it was right under him.”

Isaac rolled his eyes and walked on. Fai and Mary followed from a bit of a distance.

Mary moved closer to Fai—she had been doing that a lot, but he didn’t mind—and whispered, “Could you at least try to be civil?” Her voice was strained.

“Mary, he thinks I’m a monster. Might as well play the part, get some fun out of it.”

She bit her lip and looked away.

 He put a hand on her shoulder, getting her attention, “Look. I’m not going to be nice to someone who’s a threat to me, okay? As long as I keep saying stupid little things, he’s going to think that’s all I am. He’s not going to realize that I may be a threat to him, too. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to put myself in danger for you.” Isaac walked ahead of them, towards some unknown destination, well out of hearing.