IAmNotTheHero
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Chapter 18
🕑 Added 2021-04-09 01:40:25 +0000 UTCBy the time the trio reached the narrow alleys near the Heartstone, Flint felt sick and light-headed. He needed to lie down and rest, but it would result in Maya and Bjorn getting killed or worse. Flint hated the thought of the Wyldmaster taking control of either dog. When he faltered and stumbled onto his hands and knees, Maya stopped at Flint’s side and licked his face A comforting warmth rushed through him, and suddenly he felt a lot better.
As Flint’s head cleared and he felt Maya’s concern, he realised it was [Soul Link]. The ability had drained him not long ago to save Maya’s life. Now, it sapped Maya’s strength to give him a push. Flint pushed Maya away. He didn’t want [Soul Link] to drain her too much. She and Bjorn would be vital for taking down their pursuers in the narrow alleys.
Bjorn yapped and spoke in his odd snow dog ways before slipping into a building to their right. Flint followed him in, and Maya secured their rear. Once inside, Flint collapsed on his bottom panting. Despite his lack of clothing and the cold, sweat-drenched his body. The wound on his left thigh had stopped bleeding, but the skin around it had turned black and blue. Flint had seen such marks before when building at high altitudes. The apothecaries called it frostbite. He didn’t dare check his left shoulder.
Flint undid his shirt and tied wrapped it around his still-bleeding wound. He had to bite down on the crossbow’s strap to keep himself from yelling. Maya whined, trying to get close to him.
“I don’t want [Soul Link] to drain you further, girl,” he whispered. Flint pointed at the hole they had used to enter the building. “Stay there and keep watch.”
Bjorn stood by the far wall, shaking. Flint couldn’t fathom what the brownie had done to him, but the bonding process must’ve been traumatic for the poor guy. He guessed it was enough of a bad experience to make Bjorn fearful of men. Yet Bjorn hadn’t given in to terror and covered Flint while he was down. Once it was all over—looking at the dogs, Flint refused to think of defeat—he planned on making it up to Bjorn and lavish him with affection and meat.
Flint’s heart fell into his stomach while reloading his crossbow. After placing two in the barrel, he only had five left. To make matters worse, one’s shaft had suffered a crack. Flint planned on saving it for last. Instead of letting himself get stressed out, Flint breathed in deeply and then exhaled through his mouth. The action slowed his heartbeat and calmed his racing mind.
“Bjorn,” he whispered. The snow dog looked up from his corner. “Come here.”
Bjorn didn’t obey. Instead, he stuck to the corner, keeping his head low. The over-sized dog’s body trembled when the sound of hooves on stone reached their ears. The trio had followed their trail.
Flint wanted to know what they wanted. It made sense for the fae to attack an Iron Army encampment, but why would they come sniffing around a human settlement at the far edge of the disk. Lea’s Slumber was in a defendable position but had no other benefits. They couldn’t possibly know that the village house the Champion of Equilibrium. Given the state of the citizens, Flint doubted said Champion existed at all.
The puck and the brownie didn’t worry Flint. One had proven himself as an incompetent archer, and the other only had one hand for casting its spells. Meanwhile, the moon mage had moved silently around the ruins and appeared out of nowhere. As Flint eyed the many hole-filled walls around him, he wondered whether her delay was due to needing time for her conjuration spells.
A stabbing pain pulsed through Flint’s skull as Maya sent him the puck’s image. He had an arrow knocked and the short bow partially drawn. Flint had missed the bandages covering his left arm too. That explained his horrid accuracy. Maya stalked away from the large hole as the hoof-steps got closer and joined Bjorn. Flint lay flat on the ground, angling his crossbow to point upwards, planning on puncturing the puck’s unprotected torso.
When the creature came into view, his emotions became clear to Flint. It was the proximity—a mixture of fear, concern, and rage-filled the puck. Unlike last time, the sensation wasn’t muted. Flint felt the bubbling emotions much clearer than before. He wished he hadn’t. It made squeezing the crossbow’s trigger that much harder.
On hearing the crossbow fire, the puck ducked. Instead of flying upwards into the rib cage, the bolt skewered the throat. The puck’s eyes widened as it dropped the bow and arrow and clutched its throat. Panicked golden irises met Flints as the puck scrambled, looking for something to grab. Anguish replaced anger, and blood leaked through the thick fingers.
Flint rushed to the puck on all fours. He exited the hole and pushed the beast onto the ground. After checking the roof above and either side for company, Flint straddled the creature, grabbed an arrow, and stabbed. There was no telling whether the brownie had used its Wyldmaster magic to recover not. It could likely do the same to the puck. Flint needed the creature dead as soon as possible. His chest tightened when the puck didn’t fight back. He watched Flint wide-eyed, not reacting to the stone arrowhead opening holes along the collarbone, hands and chest.
Eventually, the pucks hand loosened, and blood flowed freely. He opened his mouth, and red poured from the opening too. Flint stopped stabbing and crawled off the puck, panting heavily. Moonlight shone from the alley’s mouth, and he knew they weren’t alone any longer. The mage ran at Flint, holding her spear, while he scrambled to reload his crossbow. Maya came to his rescue once again. She barrelled into the moon mage and pinned her to the ground. The sheepdog went for the throat straight away.
“Stop!” Flint yelled, and Maya froze with her fangs pressed to the moon mage’s skin.
When Flint heard a hissing and mumbling behind him, he spun around to find the brownie baring its square teeth. Greenlight surrounded its good hand as an arrow rapidly formed between them. When it flew towards him, Flint knew it was too late to dodge. The shoulder injury had slowed his movements too much, and even though he had already reloaded one barrel, his fired bolt wouldn’t stop the Wyld arrow. Then Bjorn appeared in front of him once again. He yelped as he took the blow. The sound hurt Flint’s ears and ripped through his heart. He raised the crossbow and fired it at the brownie, but the child-sized creature ducked around the corner.
“Don’t let her escape,” Flint said, groaning. He got to his feet and ran at the brownie. Green light shone around the corner, and Flint knew there would be a spell waiting for him, but rage fuelled him. The brownie deserved to die for all the pain it caused Bjorn. Then two thumps sounded from ahead. The first came with a crack, while the second reminded him Flint of a sack of potatoes falling over.
Adam appeared from around the corner, carrying an oversized hammer. The big guy must’ve heard the howls or Flint’s screams. His arrival had likely saved their lives. It was too early to celebrate, though. Bjorn was hurt.
“Tie her up, Adam!” Flint fell to his knees and slipped his arms under Bjorn. The snowdog whined but didn’t struggle. The Wyld arrow had ripped clean through Bjorn’s torso between the chest cavity and abdomen. Flint prayed no organs were damaged. His shoulder protested as he picked Bjorn up carefully. “You’re going to be okay, boy,” he said, maintaining a gentle tone. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” Bjorn weighed almost as much as Flint, but [Builder’s Brawn] didn’t fail him. “She’s a mage, Adam. Don’t let her talk or move her fingers. Bind her hand and mouth if necessary, then bring her to my camp.”
Then Flint took off uphill, ignoring his body’s protests. Within a dozen steps, he no longer knew whether it was his own blood he felt on his arms or Bjorn’s. It didn’t matter. They both needed the [Totem of Healing] if they wanted to survive. [Soul Link] had provided Flint with a minor boost, but he could already feel it fading. Despite the tight make-shift bandage, he could feel blood seeping from the wound with every strained step.
“It’s okay,” Flint whispered when Bjorn whined again. He looked over his shoulder, thinking they hadn’t covered any ground at all, but the Heartstone was already far behind them. “We’re almost there, Bjorn. You’re a good boy. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
Tears were streaming down Flint’s face when he heard the sound of running water. By the time he reached the pool, Bjorn’s breathing had slowed. Flint slowly lowered him to the ground and scooped up water in a stone bowl. Bjorn weakly lapped at it before placing his head against the ground. Flint’s heart took off like a speeding shadow cat as he took in the wound. He could see Bjorn’s rib cage. Another loud whine sounded through the camp as he poured water over the wound.
[Totem of Healing]’s greenlight shone brightly next to the pair, but as tears clouded Flint’s vision, he couldn’t tell whether it was helping his newest canine friend. He raced into the cottage and fetched a chunk of apple. Bjorn showed no interest in it. The meat got similar reactions.
“Hold his mouth open!”
The voice almost made Flint jump out of his skin. Twylip kneeled next to him, carrying a large leather satchel. She opened it and pulled out a glass flask of bright pink fluid. Bjorn didn’t put up a resistance when Flint pried his jaws open and lifted his head. Twylip poured the liquid straight down his throat. At first, the liquid dripped out of the corner of Bjorn’s mouth, then he swallowed and coughed. After a moment, he drank some more and licked his lips. Relief washed over Flint as Bjorn’s eyes opened, and he whined again. It was going to be okay.
“It’s your turn,” Twylip said, pressing the flask into Flint’s hands.
“I’ll be okay.” He pushed her hands away. “Give it to Bjorn.”
“He’s had enough. Any more, and he’ll get sick, making his condition worse. That totem of yours should get him the rest of the way. Now I need to fix you up before you bleed to death.” Twylip forced the flask on him again.
A soothing warmth spread through Flint’s body when as he consumed the concoction. Honey and spices added flavour to the beverage, making it a pleasure to drink. Meanwhile, Twylip got out a pestle and mortar along with several dried petals, herbs, and bark containers. Flint leaned against his glowing stone cottage and watched her work as the pain in his leg disappeared. Then his eyelids got heavy, and the shoulder discomfort followed. He caught a glimpse of Adam and Maya in the distance before sleep took him.
