The Clepsydra

Chapter 3

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My breath was coming in short gasps, my neck felt raw and I was sure to see bruises developing soon. Aidan continued to just stand there with his sword sheathed, the sight of him becoming blurry and then clear again. It seems he feels incapable of moving. I rub my now aching neck, coughing and sputtering a few times and I realize I’m lying on the ground amidst all the creepy crawlies. I lean up on my elbows and rapidly open and close my eyes, rubbing them lightly too with my grubby hands trying to clear my vision some more because right now it feels like I’m looking through unfocused binoculars.

My breathing evens out and now that my basic necessities of being able to see and take in oxygen are sorted out all I can feel is blinding rage and an abandonment of all sense of self-preservation. Instead of running while I had the chance, I looked upon Aidan with a sneer pasted on my face.

“What the frikken hell do you go running around after people and then trying to suffocate them for huh? Are you always this much of an asshole or is this just an off day for you?” I stumble to a standing position, needing to support myself by leaning against the tree before I walk towards Aidan with fisted hands at my sides. He stands a bit taller but has an incredibly guilty look on his face as I carry on with my raving. “Have I done something to offend you, because most normal people talk about things instead of trying to strangle the person getting on their nerves! Should someone knock some sense into that thick head of yours?”

I’m shouting, and I shove him as hard as I can when I’ve walked close enough to him but the push doesn’t even move him an inch and this infuriates me even more. “Say something dammit! You don’t get to almost kill me and then not provide some explanation!” I punch him in the stomach, seeing him grunt slightly as if the force was more an annoyance to him than painful. I punch him again and again, venting my rage until he surprises me by catching both my fists between my strikes and shifting his body.

He spins me around and traps me by pinning me to his chest with my arms crossed over my chest with my back to him, and this earns him a war-cry scream from me that would make banshees cringe. I struggle to release myself from his grip but it becomes apparent that my efforts are about as effective as a toothpick against a lion, but this doesn’t lessen my escape attempt. “Elena, will you stop wriggling around and give me a chance to explain?” His voice is lovely, full of rich tones and an almost lyrical note to it now that he isn’t threatening me like in English today...but I wasn’t about to be subdued because the guy had a voice which I imagine could cause birds to be green with envy.

“Why should you get any chance at giving an explanation when you were wringing my neck like a wet towel a little earlier ago?  Right now, you are so lucky my arms are stuck to my chest or I would be rearranging your face! Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you arrested for attempted murder you absolute jerk and waste of skin and bones, or maybe I should run you through with your own sword! How do you even know my name?” I could feel the blood roaring in my ears and perspiration begin to break out on my forehead from how worked up I was getting.

“Well firstly, I’d like to see you catch me let alone take a pathetic whack at a killing me with my own weapon. Secondly, I will explain everything to you if you would allow me to put you down without you raving like a lunatic and injuring your weak knuckles punching my armour, and thirdly your name was on the class list I was given...circumstances led me to look you up today in the student directory.”

I grit my teeth and clench my jaw but nod my head in agreement, not trusting myself to say anything else until he’s finished speaking. He puts me down on the ground and I take the opportunity to look down at my hands and notice that I have in fact hurt them. Some are scratched and bleeding from my fall, while others are bruised and swollen, probably from my brilliant idea of punching someone with stuff on that's meant to handle arrows. Thinking of the armour, I look back up and see that Aidan has removed most of his defensive covering and has stepped behind a cluster of high bushes with a small bag slung over his shoulder.