Towering the beast released a bellow, that flattened foliage and sent everything living running for cover. Al took this as a cue, hobbling into a limp forward sprint, running with his tri-legged formation.
“Wait!” a cracked voice sailing from Al’s left, Darton sat on his knees, bits of metal and red in his hands “Wait! AL, ALBATROSS! NO! COME BACK HERE! FALL BACK!” the captain’s tears drew deep droughts of moonlight, his voice a sob mixed with a staunch wail as he called to the last of his soldiers, the last of his friends, begging the young man to come back.
Al had already made up his mind, the boy's heart hurt with the emotion in his captain’s words, but he had decided. Decided that nobody would ever be injured again, no more people would die, no more life would be uselessly spilt into the dirt for the bugs to drink. Al’s heart hurt more, with the deaths of the ones he was supposed to protect, with the past, the present and the future. He thought of his father and mother, who had both taught him sword fighting, he thought of Avva who had shown him how to dress his wounds, he thought of all of it, Datron’s graduation to become captain, all of it. Al would not let anyone else die, he did not care, at this point death would be a simmering beach compared to what had transpired that night.
Picking up the pace Al hobbled to the base of the massive fleshy thing. Ducking neatly under a massive swinging arm, the boy let his weight carry him to the ground, before he pulled his momentum to rocket up. Swing after swing, the boy deftly dodged, using his weight in haphazard lunges and falls, narrowly missing every crushing attack, as the wind curtain rushed by the massive limbs pushed him ever further out of the way.
He dodged again and again, stalking closer, till he turned, balanced on numb legs, the boy twisted flinging his left arm around in an arc, like a puppet rather than a fighter, the weight of the rush and the temperament of the steel sliced through sickened flesh, almost cleaving the creature’s entire trunk like leg off, with one clean swipe. Wailing followed the beast's wheeling collapse, it fell back, shuffling, trying to keep its balance, Al spun, planting the blade back into the earth as he stood against it for support.
The creature roared still stumbling, flailing its massive limbs, trying to keep itself right, just as it reached the apex of no return, an elongated arm like tail, burst from the creature’s back, a last-ditch effort, it reached with immense force towards the village’s timber wall, snaking pulling flesh further and further. Al couldn’t dodge, that last attack had taken too much out of him, the outstretched hand plowed into his chest, as if he wasn’t there in the fireplace. Caving in the young man’s armor, his ribs shattered for sure this time, a jet of crimson geyser-ing out of his forced open lips, eyes bulging as white as the moon. Tears of red flowed from his eyes and nose, marring the paint of his face with crusted red, the boy’s crumpled form tumbled violently across the clearing, a doll thrown by an unruly child. He tumbled and tumbled, a spinning bouncing ball before he slid to a stop in the middle of a patched circle of grass just a ways off.
Al couldn’t feel his arms, and he was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to bend that way, at least he had one good leg still, he smiled a deep red smile, trying to lift his lead filled head to no avail. Slumping, his body, Al looked up at the night sky, and the brilliant shining stars of his ancestors long passed, marking him, looking down at him, he too would join them, as a warrior of the forest, a warrior who died protecting his people. A commotion sounded off in the clearing, followed by a deep roar, Al pushed his eyes open and rolled his head to the side, watching as Darton ran towards him, followed by a group of mysterious robed figures.
That’s funny, Al thought to himself, like a pack of gnomes, he laughed to himself, a chuckling pain filled puddling noise as he watched. A hooded figure ran up to the beast, spreading their arms as a blinding purple filled the clearing, then BOOM, the trees all staggered backwards. As an arc of violet crackling ozone speared from the figure’s hands lancing the creature, severing the mighty beast piece by piece with clinical precision, the monster was eviscerated, reduced to a cooked steaming pile of already rotting meat. Al laughed again, Darton slid up on his knees, faced stained with mud as he looked Albatross up and down, Al’s eyes tracked him, smiling through bloodshot whites.
“A… A-ah… ah… j-ob… Job done” he smiled coughing red water. Darton looked at him frantically trying to hold the young man’s body together “Al, AL STAY WITH ME! Come on bud, you’re gonna be ok” Al’s eyelids fluttered softly, he thought a nap might be good right now. “Al don’t leave me, come on, Al, AL!” Albatross didn’t really hear any of the words coming from the captain's mouth, he didn’t feel the subtle patter of water against his armor, and he did not see the hooded figures running up behind Darton.
He just was smiling, looking at a picture, a memory of his family, the three of them, without himself, the fourth. It's not going to be so bad, hey at least he can get a day off you know, living at the edge of the Kingdom of Purple, the Kingdom of Paars, wasn’t very easy. Especially in the darkened woods, but damn, he thought, their family line is through now, no more soldiers. Albatross shrugged his ethereal shoulders, there’s always next time. A cot appeared at his feet, and Al laid down, curling up for a good night's sleep, the fog of eternity licking at his face, cold drawing deep into his bones. “Goodnight.”
Soft pins and needles berated a deaf body, Al groaned in the pitch, wading his way through a thick sea of darkness, till a subtle off-pink, off-yellow orb came into view. He could feel heat on his face, swearing the sounds of birds were somewhere nearby. Al’s nose twitched, drafting in the scent of sour stale wood, and recently cut lumber, hairs tickled his cheek. Hands tried to move but were unable, Albatross fluttered his eyelids, brushing the lashes against his brow, the world coming into focus as a blinding wash of shimmering sea.
Dim light enveloped his home, the window was open, bathing him in a crisp noon light, offset by a daring little breeze. He shuffled, or tried to, held back by something, the young man looked down at his body, a slight realization washing over him. Every inch of the boy’s frame was splinted, large, bolted rods held his arms out at his sides, wrapped with clean snow-white bandages.
Splints lined his abdomen, holding everything together, and similar rods were pressed through his legs, screwed into the wood splints, wrapped with the same tailoring. He groaned again, completely immobile, mouth swollen, visible skin a deep oceanic purple, it was all a little much. His eyes fluttered softly, and the boy swore he could feel a fresh wound opening again, panic reached its fingers around his heart, he tried to speak, tried to move, tried to do anything but the sights were slowly sapped from his eyes once again, thrusting Albatross into pure darkness.
He found the void-bound bed again, content on resuming his beauty rest, his eternal slumber, the bed sat in a pool of nothingness and Al nestled himself into the hay and warming animal furs. A nest for the gods, only interrupted by an orb, an annoying orb, a warm swimming green light, a pool fresh and wide, spreading its emerald touch, seeping into the boy’s body, a shining grove of light blistering in nature, holy in intention. Al’s body bathed in it, the warmth spread so far and so wide, until it engulfed him completely, never to be seen again. Then it was gone, in a flash, in an instant, right as Al awoke.
Blocks of wood propped the young warrior's head, his thinned frame draped in cloth and line, as he lay upright in his bed. Noon light still streamed by, although a different day’s brightness, unbeknownst to Al. He looked down, body marred with scars, more than the usual amount, his right leg still wrapped in bandages, but the retaining walls were all missing, along with the infernal bolts. Swinging his leg, Al let out a silent little screech, joints aching, gnashing with pained ferocity, he lifted his shaky arms, barely able to control the motor function. Feet planted against smooth dusted wood, the boy’s matted hair hung in front of his face, wavy and thick with sweat and grease.
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