It all happened so quickly.
The king was a fat man, greedy and stupid. His parents had spoiled him terribly, never bothering to teach him how to control anything, not even a horse, certainly not a kingdom. Of course, he didn't do anything about the many many warnings.
The warnings of the menace killing entire troops during night hunts.
The ones who could escape their deadly grasp were horrifyingly few, and they cried of the impossible.
What they all first mentioned was the monstrous size of their attacker, just in their slouch they dwarfed any of their species by feet, and they would have done so to humans by meters. From this alone grew the theory it was not human at all, it was their machinery.
What really nailed their suspicions were not the ten feet of it, not the long razor like knives that protruded from its fingers, but the legs. Long, long metallic legs with a kick like a horses, and a stomp that broke the ground, the movement of them was too fast, too agile to be even the most well trained caede.
Even more impossible being its alleged resistance to their magic.
This was a great concern among the court but all the king would open his mouth to do was demand more food.
Cillian began to hear that things were getting dangerous, but all he did was hear them. He was to guard the king and his family, and them only.
But his loyalty to them specifically was not as strong as his loyalty to his kingdom. Treason it might have been, but when he saw the state of the gateway building, he was sure he would not get the chance to get charged with it.
......
It was pure chaotic bloodshed that for the first time in generations was fatal on both sides. Cillian was immersed immediately, killing as many humans as he could, almost flying above the ground as he jumped and ran elegantly to dodge the dozens and dozens of weapons. Weapons that gave strangely menacing hiss as they flew past him.
But their were so many, no matter how many he slaughtered, more rushed in like red ocean waves in a violent storm, the numbers quickly overwhelming him as he fled to a thin empty corridor hidden by a curtain. He scolded himself for his cowardliness in such a dire situation, though he had no plans to go back out any time soon. He was stunned by numerous nameless emotions as he stood motionless, a numb tickle riding his spine.
Although suddenly, he was not alone in the dim darkness.
A bleeding man had fell through the cloth of the curtain seemingly by accident, though he gleamed in hope when he saw the purple fabric of Cillians coat.
"your- you, ah ,Guard of the king! Our savior! thank you, thank you- they're knives! They weaken us, our magic too you must save us bu-" Cillian was still in paralysis, barley able to listen to the mans mumbles of despair. He could only observe the light. Observe the blur of motion behind the swaying curtains, observe the line of warm light illuminating the crimson gore from the soldier soaking his purple uniform to a pit of black. Purple is a very expensive color. He was scolded when it was stained with dirt. Now it was stained with blood. That wouldn't not be so easy to wash out.
"your trained for this, your trained better than any of us, please, please, fight them!" The man yelled as he screamed in agony, but Cillian remained stood in shock, frozen in his place as he watched the man die in front of him along with so many others like him in the war behind the curtain. His vision was blurred but he saw so much blue sink to the bottom, as if pebbles in water. Blue was the color of the armor of his people.
"Fight them!" Soldiers screamed, the shrieks suddenly all around him, sounding so near despite the dreadful lonliness seeping like ice through his trembling bones. They begged him to halt their slow and painful deaths, to stop the knives stabbing them, the arrows impailing them, the feet suffocating them as they stomped on their necks. Their screams were deafening but he couldn't raise his hands to covers ears.
"Why wont you fight them?" A quiet voice cried from behind him. He didn't want to look, he fought to not look but a force pulled his eyes to see. Him. Wounds leaking endless mounts of gore through pale reddening flesh he knew so well, pain stricken on the others pale face. He knew every tattoo, every scar, every mark, but it all disappeared before his eyes, every inch of Augusts body turning a ghostly white, even his golden locks of lively hair seeming to die as he fell into the abyss that was the floor moments ago.
From behind, a shadowy form emerged from the darkness, larger than life with glowing red orbs that blinked on and off rhythmically. Before he could even begin to think about fighting back, he himself was impaled by the nails like razors shot out of from the figure in the dusk.
They sent him back to a grim reality.
"Jesus make him shut up, he's giving me a headache" Joan said in response to his screams of horror which started right back up again once he woke up. He jerked violently, wanting to crawl away but his hands were tied behind his back, his legs bound as well.
"Plea-uh-please calm dow-down we j-" Zorry said nervous and quiet, now a bit panicked as he held his hands up but all Cillian did was continue to sob loudly as he thrashed away, mumbling too low and too fast for them too understand his foreign words. It quickly came to his attention how weak he was as he couldn't even break out of cloth, the thought making him thrash more before slowing in exhaustion after minute or two of his fit.
"You done now, my god" Joan was dragging herself closer to him, cringing at her still injured leg but continuing none the less until she was merely and inch or two from the mans face, the two laying down next to each other. She gripped his long hair behind his neck and pulled it upward, staring demandingly into his inky back eyes, wet with reddish black tears.
"You're gonna heal me" Joan said in his language, Aostresh, making her voice go as deep as it could.
"Why would I do that" He replied after a moment of observing her, tears still streaming down his puffy cheeks.
"I'll torture you to death" Zorry stared daggers at her in disapproval at the cruel threat.
"I deserve it"
Joan didn't seem to know what to say, silent in her though before her approach completely changed.
"Zorry, lean the man up against th- lean him up" Zorry, hesitated but eventually did manage, though Cillian squirmed in uncomfort as the flesh of his kin squished behind him. He couldn't stop staring at their lifeless eyes, head bolting around madly with his vaster field of vision though Joan quickly demanded Zorry direct his gaze at her.
Zorry sighed, glaring at her but did follow her order, embracing the man awkwardly to position his head to look at the one across from him, it being surprising easy as Cillians exhaustion and pain made his neck easily movable in his groggy mournful haze.
"Hi. My name is Joan, and thats Zorry" He paid attention to her, though only as an attempt to get his mind off the tragedy surrounding him.
"We need two things. I need my leg fixed-" she pointed to the badly bruised and bleeding skin on her ankle, "- and he needs a much bigger magical task we'll explain in detail later if you agree to a deal of sorts. oh and we want off with the damn ears"
"Is their anything you want" She continued, staring at him through her black shades.
"tell me what has happened to my people" He simply asked after a moment, quietly. If he spoke any louder his voice would've cracked beyond comprehension.
"Well, most of you are dead. It a sort of law we kill any of your species on sight" Joan said harshly, void of sympathy thought also of malice.
"but your not alone, I'm sure some of your kind are alive, though mostly captured, being used in some way or another. Its dangerous now for your people because we have weapons to sap your powers and kill you"
"I don't know much because me and Zorry here cant get out but I'm sure the ones who did have have taken most of your structures, your homes, your castles, your shops, your farms, bla bla, bla, though knowing us humans I doubt theres a structured government or anything" she paused for a long moment after this, mouth open in consideration as she pondered her words.
"I'd be easy enough for you all to take back if you all got together and got shit straight again" Cillian almost laughed at this through heaving cries.
"Are you suggesting we take over again, Do you want that?" He questioned in surprise.
"I want me and my brother healthy, thats all. I'll help you out with your revenge if you treat us for it"
"Your ears fit you well then" He mumbled, gazing at her from underneath long damp hair. After yet another pause, this one longer as he pondered his choices, he continued.
"My mother. She lives on a island alone so she wouldn't have been affected but I wouldn't make it there alone. I'm weak right now but I can help you after a while, once I heal"
"is that all, take you to mommy" Joan said, skepticism audible in her tone.
"yes"he said briskly.
"after you heal won't you just kill us and leave"
"I will not be able to kill you. I will not heal if I am healing your two along the way. Our magic is strong but fast to drain and longer to regenerate"
"Is it really worth It to help us then"
"If my loyalty is such a concern I have a solution" Without any magic at all, his wrists, slim and trembling, slid out of the cloth bounds that had loosened with his earlier fit. Though neither of his company were concerned at his escape, the fact he hadn't murdered either of them proving his sincerity in weakness.
With his newly freed hands, CIllain slowly lifted his bleeding palm, though it shook, trembling as if it was carrying tons. It looked almost painful when he compressed his fingers, every one except his pinky into a tight fist. This warranted a reaction from the two across form him. Amusement. Mostly from Joan.
"Really"She said through ugly chuckles.
"its more than what you think, its magic without need of sacrifice from either party, its the simplest, easiest of magic. Its mental. We can not betray each others words. You will feel it" Though she continued to laugh at the childish concept of a pinkie promise, the complete and utter seriousness dead in his tone made her believe his words.
They sat silent for a moment, thinking of the words they would bound themselves to, both making them as loose as possible for future escape from the obligations if they may need, damp pokies interlocked awkwardly, the air was tense with a genuine commitment lingering above. Joans smirk began to fade with this. Cillian figured it would. He sensed the ease to betrayal in her and he was sure she would betray him without the simple spell. He suggested it for his own pease of mind.
"I promise to protect you and take you to your mother"
"I promise I'll do whatever I can to heal you and Zorry if capable"
They began to move away from each others hands but Zorry suddenly jumped into the mix, holding both their hands together in his.
"You will never fight other on our journey. And after too" He pleaded in scrappy Aostresh. He cringed at himself, at how childish his want for peace was but he knew violence would occur between the two if not forbidden. As calm as the monster seemed now Joan had a way of pushing the deepest most primal buttons in people and he knew how violence could play out in their situation and cause nonreversible damage. Joan only laughed at him though pulling her hand away from the boys. He sighed, resorting to only hoping for the best.
Joans and Zorrys hands sunk away quickly but to their confusion, Cillians hand stayed. His eyes were closed tight, eyebrows wrinkled as a look of deep concentration and slight pain settled on his face. Then Joan felt it. It was a tingle at first, comparable to a light brush against numb skin. But as the seconds passed a pressure seemed to squeeze the area, stinging pain replacing dull rhythmic throbs. Though even in her agony, the tips of her mouth seemed to cure upward, the burden of her bad leg being lifted.
Until it wasn't anymore, left half healed and bleeding once again.
And Cillian was nothing more that a unconscious lump on the floor with a low pulse.