"Hold still. I'm going to see if I can fix you up a bit."
Spencer grimaced, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving with pained breaths as Ryan kneeled on the ground beside him. Crimson blood was still oozing out of his stomach at an alarming rate, soaking his entire shirt, and it was only getting worse with every passing moment.
Ryan concentrated with all the strength he had left in him. He closed his own eyes, took a deep breath to calm his rattled nerves. He gently hovered his hand over the hideous gash in Spencer's abdomen, and after a few silent moments of strained focus, a soft golden glow began to emanate from his palm.
With each second that Ryan spent centering his disheveled thoughts on healing the wound, his already weakened energy dwindled. His fingertips prickled. His arms went numb, and stars shimmered in the corners of his closed eyes. Still, he kept focusing. If Spencer lost any more blood, there would be a catastrophe, and Ryan was the only one who could prevent it.
He kept focusing.
He didn't stop until he felt someone grab his arm and shake it violently, startling him out of his hazy trance. His eyes snapped open and reality came crashing down on him so suddenly that it made him topple backwards for a moment, vision whirling and mind racing. Thankfully, the same person who shook him was right there to break his fall.
"Whoa there, Ryan! Are you okay?" Jon asked with a worried chuckle, helping the young blacksmith back up to his knees. "You started looking really pale."
Ryan blinked, stomach churning and heart pounding. He could hardly see. Everything was just an indistinct blur of shapes and colors. He tried to remember what had happened, but his brain was nothing but a pile of muddled mush. All he knew was that he was on the verge of fainting, and that certainly wasn't a pleasant sensation.
"I'm not sure," he said slowly, blinking again in hopes to clear his vision. "I just know that I feel awful."
"That's because you strained yourself, friend," Jon replied. "You almost passed out trying to take a splinter out of my hand, remember? Jumping from that straight to a massive flesh wound probably wasn't the best idea."
"I was just--"
"I know you were trying to help, and you did a decent job for what little practice you've had, but now you're spent. It's going to take a long time for your energy to come back. Moderation is key, right?"
Ryan didn't even have the strength to muster up a nod. His eyelids fluttered, and with an abrupt exhale, he collapsed backwards into Jon's arms once more.
"Fantastic," the mage muttered to himself, struggling to hold the dead weight of the young blacksmith. Jaw clenched, he turned to the prince, who was merely sitting on the edge of a rock and anxiously chewing on his fingernails. "Brendon, bring him some water."
The prince snapped to attention, frightened gaze locked on the mage. "But there's only a few sips left."
"Did I stutter?" Jon barked, completely unfazed by the prince's jittery reaction to his brusque words. There was no time for hesitation. "Bring him some water, now."
Brendon didn't need to be told a third time. Terrified eyes stretched wide, he scrambled to his feet and dug through the contents of his bag, fingers trembling like a madman's. He was clearly traumatized by the events on the bridge, but that was over. There were much more pressing matters at hand now. Spencer was gravely injured. Ryan had weakened himself trying to heal the former, and he needed nutrients. There wasn't room for error.
The only canteen they had was almost empty, but there was just enough for one person. The prince hurried to give it to Jon in fear of the situation escalating even more.
"Thanks," the mage grumbled, then nodded his head toward Spencer. "There are some old bandages in my bag. Get them and wrap up his wound. We'll think of something else later."
Brendon almost opened his mouth to argue, but the glare Jon flashed him was enough to shut it. With pure adrenaline pulsing through his veins, he went to grab the mage's bag.
Meanwhile, Jon lightly slapped Ryan's cheek, eliciting a feeble groan from the younger boy in response. "Wake up, buddy. Wake up. Drink this. You'll feel better."
Dazed, confused, and completely out of it, Ryan tried to force his heavy eyelids open. He'd heard talking in his ringing ears, just barely saw a blurry object in front of his face, but he couldn't figure out what was going on.
He started when he felt something cold touch his lips. Goosebumps prickled his skin as an even colder liquid trickled into his mouth, jumpstarting his senses out of their lethargic state. It tasted like old water, far from fresh or delectable, but its frigid temperature was just enough to snap him back to reality.
He blinked hard, trying to clear his vision of nauseating fuzziness. When his gaze came back into focus, he saw Jon right in front of him, and everything that had happened mere moments ago flooded his racing mind.
With an exhausted chuckle, he threw his head back and stared up at the bright blue sky above. "Remind me to stop being so ambitious with that stuff, okay?"
By the rocks, Brendon found the roll of yellowed bandages. He barely noticed them in his tingling hands, barely had time to recognize all of the hysterical thoughts stampeding through his head as he turned and hurried back to the royal adviser's side. He tried not to look at all the blood, tried not to breathe in the sickening metallic scent permeating the air, but it was impossible. It was everywhere.
Ryan had managed to seal up almost a third of the gaping wound before he keeled over, but it wasn't quite enough. Crimson blood was still seeping out and staining everything it touched. If anything, Ryan only bought them a few extra hours.
Time was running out, and they all knew it.
"Brendon, hurry up and put those bandages on before I add your blood to the mix!" Jon snapped, ripping the prince out of his paralyzed stupor. "He doesn't have all day!"
Tensions were so high that it was nearly suffocating. Tears burned in the prince's wide eyes as he unrolled the bandages with trembling fingers and moved to wrap them around Spencer's abdomen. His stomach lurched when hot blood touched his hand, when the royal adviser's shallow breaths quickened in response to the bandages tightening around his gruesome injury. Still, Brendon kept going, for Jon's scrutinizing stare carved an immense hole in the back of his head.
The very instant Brendon finished his job, the one that left his numb hands bloodier and shakier than ever, the mage sprang to his feet and snatched his bag. "We need to keep moving," he declared, his voice as stoic as his expression. "Maybe we can find some help along the way, someone who can give us a ride to Ampleforth."
"Out here?" Brendon questioned with a bewildered scoff. He struggled to rise to his feet, holding his bloody hands as far from his body as possible. "There isn't a soul for miles! How are we to carry on like this? Those two won't even be able to walk five feet, let alone the rest of the way to the capital!"
His snark was stopped dead in its tracks when Jon abruptly whirled around, his dark eyes narrowed and more menacing than ever before.
"What part of we'll find help along the way escaped your understanding?" he muttered, not once breaking his vehement stare with the wide-eyed prince.
Jon didn't bother waiting for an answer. His jaw clenched, he tossed his bag over his shoulder and grabbed Spencer's arms, carefully lifting the injured man to his unsteady feet. "Help Ryan," the mage grumbled as he slung Spencer's arm around his neck. "We're leaving. Now."
The heavy air was filled with the feeble sounds of Spencer's agonized groans, the distant whistling of the strong wind in the massive chasm. His tight grip around the royal adviser's torso, Jon started down the ramshackle road, marching toward the looming mountains that seemed to grow taller and taller with every step they took.
Brendon didn't have much of a choice. His heart pounding and his palms sweaty, he swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to look at Ryan. Time slowed to a painful standstill as their uncertain gazes met, as if the very world around them was nothing but a horrifying figment of their shared imaginations. Nothing seemed real anymore. Their journey was becoming less of a long trip across Valmead and more of a living nightmare with every single minute that passed, and there was no waking from its deathlike grip on them.
As Ryan stumbled to his feet, Brendon kept a loose grasp on his arm. The two of them watched Jon and Spencer steadily vanishing into the quiet distance, deeper into the unknown depths of Morhollow.
They exchanged fearful glances, and they followed suit.
* * * * *
Hours had passed. The pale sun had crept to its peak in the sky and fallen below the jagged mountains long before the four found even a speck of civilization. Morhollow was a barren wasteland, fairly inviting at first compared to the drab of Dracden, but as they traversed the empty road in desperate search of another living soul, they were starting to believe they were trapped in an endless loop of pure desolation.
Jon wasn't going to be able to hold Spencer up for much longer. The royal adviser was losing strength faster than the sun was setting, and he was practically a deadweight in Jon's arms. His skin was sickly and ashen. He struggled to keep his exhausted eyes open. His feet started to drag, and there was still so much blood. So much crimson, pooling blood, and the flow never ceased.
They didn't have much time.
Just as they were beginning to lose what little hope they had left, they saw a faint light sparkling in the distance. It swayed in the cool breeze, jingled softly from the movement, and as the four hurried closer, they saw a wooden carriage parked on the side of the road. Its chestnut brown horse grazed on a patch of grass nearby.
It was perfect. They could load onto the back of the carriage and ride all the way to the city before nightfall. It didn't quite look abandoned, though, so where was its--
"Hello, gentlemen," a voice chirped from the backside of the carriage. A sturdy woman clad in muddy boots and farm clothes stepped out onto the road in front of them, a small smile on her face as she wiped her hands with a grimy handkerchief. "What brings you through Morhollow tod--"
Her eyes suddenly widened at the sight of Spencer's gruesome injury. Her skin paled; she almost dropped the cloth in her hands. "Oh my goodness," she breathed. "What happened? Is he all right?"
"No," Jon said. He struggled to readjust the royal adviser's arm around his neck, for he was growing weaker, too. "We need to get to Ampleforth. Can you help us?"
Straight to the point, but thankfully, the woman didn't seem to mind. She was too preoccupied with staring at the bloody wound. "Of, of course," she reassured, a frightened tremor in her voice. "There's a lot of folks who can help him there. Hop in the back, and I'll take you as fast as I can."
"Thank you." With a grunt of weariness and fatigue, Jon loosened his grip on Spencer to help him up into the carriage. He couldn't manage it by himself, though, but before he collapsed under the weight of the royal adviser, the woman rushed to his aid. Together, the two of them lifted Spencer into the back of the cart and got him seated against the wall.
As the woman, now in a trembling state of frenzied panic, clambered up into the driver's seat and snatched the horse's reins, Jon crawled up next to Spencer before turning around and helping Ryan and Brendon into the carriage. They barely had a chance to get settled before the carriage lurched forward and the horse galloped down the road, toward the colossal mountains.
Reality was a discombobulated mess. The cart rumbled beneath them as it bounced and bobbled over the uneven road. The clicking and clacking of the horse's hooves against the ground and the squeaking of the carriage's wheels were the only sounds in the suffocating air. No one spoke. Jon stared into nothingness, his gaze vacant and the exhaustion creeping into his overworked limbs. Spencer was hardly conscious; he slumped against the mage, weakly clutching his bleeding injury. Ryan and Brendon were essentially shoulder to shoulder, but circumstances were far too dire for them to care, or even notice, for that matter.
They managed to find a kind soul who was willing to help them in their time of need, but there was an unspoken fear shared among them that it was already much too late.
In a desperate attempt to break the agonizing silence, Jon took a deep breath and turned to look at the back of the woman's head. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun, stray strands falling over the back of her neck and the sides of her face. She was certainly good-natured for offering a ride to a group of terrified strangers.
"Sorry to jump at you out of nowhere," the mage told her, a feeble chuckle shaking his shoulders. "He's just in really bad shape, and we didn't know what to do. You're a lifesaver."
They could just barely see the woman smile, for she didn't once take her gaze off the road in front of them. "Don't worry about it, honey," she said. The tremor in her voice hadn't completely vanished, but she was far calmer than she had been mere moments ago. "I wasn't gonna leave you folks out on the road. That'd just be heartless of me."
"Well, we really appreciate it, ma'am. We really do."
Another bout of unpleasant silence fell over the group as the woman guided her horse to the right, down another uneven and broken path. They passed a sign as they turned, as well. The letters were faded, but they could still make out its contents.
Ampleforth - 52 miles.
"So you mind telling me what the hell happened to your friend, since he's bleeding all over my carriage?"
Jon suddenly looked as if he'd aged twenty years, shadows dancing over his face and deepening the lines in his skin. The bags beneath his eyes seemed to darken tenfold as he spared a tired, worried glance down at Spencer, then at Brendon, who merely returned his stare with a matched expression of distress. "He was attacked by some horrible half-human, half-bird creature."
"Ah." The woman nodded her head and sucked in a deep breath. "That was probably a Dawnwraith. Nasty little buggers. They like to hide out in the shadows of Morhollow and wait for unsuspecting travelers to pass by on the roads. I'm assuming that's what happened to you folks?"
"Sort of," came Jon's hesitant response. Although he was grateful for the woman's assistance, it was still never a smart idea to tell the strangers they met during their journey too much information. "Will he be okay, then?"
The fleeting moment of silence that followed certainly wasn't a reassuring sign.
"Should be," the woman finally said, snapping her horse's reins. "Dawnwraiths have venom in their claws and saliva that can only be cured by a special type of plant powder. I'm not sure what exactly, but there are plenty of apothecaries in Ampleforth. There should be someone who has what he needs."
The horse galloped faster. The lantern hanging from the driver's seat squeaked and jounced as the carriage sped down the road. Ryan, his eyelids beginning to flutter shut and his body aching with exhaustion, looked around at the rest of his group. They were a frightened, paralyzed mess of people, relying on the aid of a woman they'd never met to get them to safety. His mind was muddled with thoughts he couldn't identify, but deep down, some part of him knew they could trust her. There was just something about her that seemed virtuous, and he didn't know why.
Fatigue started to swallow him whole. Spots clouded the corners of his vision. His breathing shallowed. He began to slump over, and he slipped into a heavy state of slumber the moment his head hit the prince's shoulder.
Brendon flinched at the sudden weight on him. His face twisted into a frown, as if he was bothered by being used as a pillow, but when he saw the feeble weariness on Ryan's pasty face, he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. The boy needed to rest after everything that had happened. Brendon knew he'd be worse than the Dawnwraiths if he woke him up after the tribulations they'd endured.
One eyebrow raised, the woman quickly glanced back at the group before returning her attention to the road. "You folks look like you haven't eaten in days," she remarked. "I have some bread and fruit in that sack. Eat up. You're skinnier than twigs."
A rugged cloth sack rested against the cart's wall, right next to Spencer. It looked like it was indeed full of food, but Jon felt bad enough for making her drive them to Ampleforth. Taking her food was too much, no matter how famished they were.
"It's your food," the mage sighed. "We shouldn't take it."
"You're right. It is my food," the woman said, "and I'm telling you to eat it. I'm serious."
The tone in her voice made it clear that she didn't want to argue anymore. As guilty as it made him, Jon carefully reached across Spencer and dragged the sack in between the four of them. He and Brendon, being the only ones fully conscious, fished out a smattering of fruit--apples, peaches, berries, and the like--and a loaf of bread. As Brendon began to chow down--he hadn't realized just how hungry he'd been--Jon stuffed a handful of food into his bag. Spencer and Ryan would surely be starving when they came to.
"We should make it to Ampleforth within the next half hour," the woman told them. "Just sit back and try to relax. Everything's gonna be just fine."
At least one of them believed that to be true.
She hadn't been entirely wrong, either. A tall wall slowly came into view after about twenty-five long, agonizing minutes, separated by a gleaming golden gate. Two armed guards stood watch outside the gate, their stances stiffening when they noticed the carriage approaching.
It must have been Ampleforth. They couldn't see past the massive wall, but the city they'd been searching for had to have been behind it.
The carriage rolled to a stop. The chestnut brown horse whinnied and kicked at the ground as the dark-haired woman hopped down from the driver's seat. A small smile adorning her face once more, she came around to the back of the cart and looked up at the disheveled group.
"Well, here we are," she said, her hands on her hips. "Welcome to Ampleforth, folks. Hope you enjoyed the ride."
Without even being asked, she helped Jon out of the carriage and back onto the ground. He wobbled as his feet hit the earth, but he quickly regained his balance. The two of them then dragged Spencer out and back into Jon's waiting grasp. He almost buckled under the weight again, but he was determined to make it work. They'd come this far. He wasn't going to give up just outside the city.
His heart racing and his fingers twitching with nervous anticipation, Brendon nudged Ryan, who was still fast asleep on his shoulder. It didn't take much to rouse the boy from unconsciousness. His eyes glazed over and his mouth slightly agape with exhaustion, he frantically glanced around, clearly perplexed by what was going on.
"We're here," the prince told him. "We made it to the city."
He rose to his feet--just as unsteadily as Jon had--and hopped down to the ground. The woman was there to make sure he didn't fall, but he managed. He turned back to the carriage and extended a hand for Ryan to take if he needed it. The poor boy was still so fatigued and fragile, and the last thing they needed was another injury.
As Brendon helped Ryan out of the cart, Jon tried to reach into his bag with his free hand. "What can I do to repay you?" he asked the woman. "You did so much for us. I can't thank you enough."
The woman merely dismissed his offer with a wave of her hand. "Don't sweat it, honey," she said. "Just get yourselves safe and healed up. That'll be repayment enough."
Jon opened his mouth to argue, but he shut it when the woman flashed him a knowing look. He hated to walk away without giving her something to express his gratitude, especially after how much she'd helped them, but she insisted. If all she wanted them to do was be safe, then that was what they would do.
With another utterance of genuine thanks--even Brendon murmured his appreciation, too--Jon led the way up the small hill and toward the golden gates to Ampleforth. He struggled to stay steady with the weight of the royal adviser slumping into him, but he marched onward nonetheless. Brendon followed suit, one hand hovering between Ryan's shoulder blades, just in case he needed assistance.
By the time Jon reached the gate and told the guards their purpose of visiting, Brendon spared one last glance back at the woman who'd practically saved their lives. He was grateful beyond words, for without her incredible timing, Spencer wouldn't have survived the journey on foot. Hell, none of them might have. She'd shown up at the perfect time, when they'd needed her the most, and she willingly gave them the help they so desperately required. He just couldn't quite find the words to express it.
He didn't have to. As the dark-haired woman climbed back up into the driver's seat and turned her horse around, she looked back over her shoulder and met his wide eyes in an instant, as if she'd known he was already watching her. She flashed him a wink, and for a fleeting moment, Brendon's heart plummeted to his feet.
Her eyes sparkled with an icy blue hue, one that seemed to pierce through his very soul.
But he blinked, and her eyes were just an ordinary color once more. It was like it never even happened.
She snapped her horse's reins, and her carriage took off down the road they'd come from. She disappeared over the horizon faster than Brendon could begin to process what he'd just seen.
He was probably hallucinating. He'd experienced some awful things today, and he was drained. That was surely it. There was no way that woman's eyes had changed colors.
But he couldn't ignore the unnerving feeling that something divine had interfered with their journey as he followed Jon into the city of Ampleforth.
~~~~~
Had to squeeze in one last update before the year (or I guess the decade sheesh that's terrifying) is over eh? I'm gonna try really hard to be more consistent with updates in 2020
She says, hoping, knowing damn well she only keeps her New Year's Resolutions for a maximum of two weeks every year
Anyway! I hope y'all had a lovely Christmas and holiday season in general. Consider this my late Christmas present from me to all you cuties. Did you get any fun or cool presents? I got a lot of Supernatural goodies and a Nintendo Switch :))))
Also a little inside glimpse of my life since I've been MIA for so long...I'm unashamedly going through another hardcore Hunger Games phase because I was bored earlier this week and decided to rewatch all the movies and now I gotta find my books so I can reread those and lemme tell ya, going through the series as a bisexual is a whole different experience. Nothing my straight preteen ass could've ever imagined (possible spoilers so I guess if you haven't seen/read them then skip over)
Like Katniss Everdeen? Forever and always a queen, my beautiful and sarcastic and badass wife, I literally took up archery when I was younger because of her and no that's not a joke, my bow is still in my room
Peeta Mellark? My sweet summer child, my soft boy, I want to give him hugs and tell him everything's gonna be okay while I hold him close and hear his kind heart beating against my ear
Johanna Mason? A whole damn woman, a kickass warrior, could literally beat me to a pulp in 0.5 seconds but I would still kiss the ground she walked on and thank her for the opportunity
Finnick Odair? The absolute light of my life, my adorable smiley boy, my love, my husband, did not deserve his fate and I'm still so pissed off about it because he dESERVED SO MUCH BETTER GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH IT HURTS
The Hunger Games, man. Such an amazing trilogy and I will never not love it
This was a long author's note whoops. But I missed y'all and wanted to say some stuffs! Hope you enjoyed the chapter lovelies :)
Love y'all! Remember to vote/comment/share with your pals! <3