Chapter 14

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"You-you....what?" stammered Brogan. 

Tears formed in Ione's eyes. "I-I-know....I know..." She gave up talking and instead tactophrened him. I know why the man wants the Mythara. 

Is it...for our blood? 

Yes. 

They sat in stunned silence. A breeze wove its way through the grass, causing the green plants to wave and dance on the ground. Sunlight filtered through the tree branches and cast its rays across the two Mythara. Birds chirped merrily around them, unaware of what had just been revealed. Brogan's face was a mask of disbelief and Ione started sniffling.

He killed our parents, just for blood, and information. He sacrificed the lives of our kind in order for power of his own self. He murdered them  because our blood contains the information he needed. He is-he is..., Ione faltered. 

A stupid stuffed mushroom with polka-dot spores, hissed Brogan. 

At this, Ione hiccuped and managed a little smile. They both knelt there, by Brogan's droplets of blood on the ground, stunned by the revelation. 

"What are we going to-hic-do now?" Ione's voice was hoarse and quiet. 

Brogan shrugged and stood up, gazing at the sky and all around them. "We've still got to find our Ewynne...and Sphynx."

"I wish he were here. That is, to teach us the full extent of our powers. I mean, how indestructible are we? I would really like to know that." 

"H'm. Same here. How are we going to get rid of this glowing stuff? Is there blood still on my face?" Brogan asked. 

Ione glanced up at him from her kneeling position and shook her head. "It seems to have soaked back into your body." 

"It must be strange, being humans." At Ione's questioning look, Brogan continued, "I mean, look at all those people around us. They are so-so...vulnerable. If we get hurt, it's not very bad, and plus our skin is pretty much steel. But if they do, blood goes splattering everywhere!" 

"So, you're saying we're lucky to be Mythara?"

"I guess. I mean, who has acidic spit?" Brogan chuckled softly at this but Ione bit her lip.

"We aren't lucky to be hunted by the man. And being one of the last Mythara on Earth, I think." 

Brogan shrugged and helped Ione up. "You never know what may be out there."

"H'm. Yea, I guess," Ione mumbled. "Hey, your blood soaked back into your face, or something of that sort. Do you think you can clean all your blood up by touching it and then soaking it back in?"

"I'll give it a shot," replied Brogan.

He extended his pointer finger and experimentally touched the droplet, some of his shaggy brown hair falling into his face. 

"Wuh agunna need tuh cut our har," he murmured softly.

"What was that?" Ione asked. 

"We are going to need to cut our hair. It's getting long." 

"Oh." 

Then they watched, fascinated, as the droplet of blood disappeared. Brogan tilted his head sideways and grinned at Ione. "Looks like it worked!" 

Suddenly, the ground shook and all the droplets of blood and the glowing light around them vanished without a trace. Ione ducked as some rocks from the top of the mountain they just went over rolled down the slope. A plume of dust arose and they could not longer see each other. Coughing, Brogan called, "Ione!" 

A piercing scream flew through the air. "Ione!" Brogan yelled, louder this time. 

Muffled shouts and then a reply, "Brogan! Help!" 

Instinctively, he put his x-ray vision to use and scanned his surroundings while ducking the debris from the mountain at the same time. A figure between two other, much larger forms was thrashing wildly about twenty feet away from him. 

Ione! He cried out with his mind and rushed towards her. But suddenly, as if it were a scene change in a movie, he found himself on the ground and the air knocked out of his chest. 

Gasping, he tried to rise but was held down by an invisible force. The dust was still flying through the air and his x-ray vision showed him nothing, as if he was in the middle of a puddle of nothing. He yanked his unseen bonds in an attempt to free himself but to no avail. 

"Well, look what we have here!" said a raspy voice. 

Dread filled Brogan as a man, human, strode towards him. 

Mytharaحيث تعيش القصص. اكتشف الآن