Mikal

Longhill – Late Autumn

The world stopped for a moment as Mikal watched Vilfred fighting in the distance. And he pictured all the ways he could make Vilfred pay for what he had done to him. Vilfred, the traitor, who was the one now fighting alongside the enemy. The bastard who had sentenced Mikal to eternal torture for the same offence he himself was committing now.

Mikal had not realized that he had stopped fighting, until a sharp tearing pain shot through his arm, bringing him back from his thoughts. A loud cry echoed in the distance, his own or Hilda's he could not tell. The next moment Hilda was at his side, holding him tight and pushing him to the ground. She turned and swung her sword at a towering Vausterian, before she reached to Mikal and snapped off the vicious arrow protruding from his shoulder.

He grunted in pain, but it did not stop Hilda from pulling him up.

"Can you fly?" she asked. "Come on, fly!"

Without waiting for his response, she grabbed him up and pushed him along, before they both spread their wings and fled towards the woods.

She had probably not noticed Vilfred there. Or had she? Should he ask her? No perhaps he shouldn't. They were being closely chased by the enemy and at that moment their sole purpose should be surviving this massacre. He could ask her later. Or perhaps he should never ask her at all. What if she still held any feelings for Vilfred? She had loved him before. She had been his wife... No, there was no way she could still have any feelings for that monster. The mere thought made Mikal feel sick. Hell, he would kill her himself if he realized she still held any flicker of love for that bastard.

"Mikal, hurry!" Hilda yelled, and he realized that he had slowed down without noticing, drowning in his unpleasant thoughts. "Don't worry. We'll find him again."

"What?" 

"Vilfred," Hilda said, her eyes narrowed. Mikal's heart thumped. She had seen him too...

They reached the camp too late. The Vausterians were already there. Bodies and limbs of dead Northmen littered the ground, while the tents lay cut open, their interiors destroyed. Ignoring the stinging wound in his shoulder, Mikal searched the ruins for any sign of Hans.

"There," Hilda pointed to the royal tent which was still intact, where a number of guards stood fighting outside.

Mikal hurried behind Hilda and they stormed into Hans's tent, only to be greeted by the thick stench of blood and spilled organs. Dead Vausterians lay on the ground, while a couple of Northern guards stood blocking the bed from view.

"Riki!" Hilda cried out as she rushed towards them. Mikal followed her, and that was when he noticed the pale boy spread over the crimson fur blankets, bathed in blood.

Hans sat crying by Riki's side, holding his hand and stroking his head. A thick sash was tightly wound around his waist, drenched in thick blood that seeped out from the wound beneath.

"Please do something." Hans turned to Hilda with pleading eyes, and Hilda reached out to check Riki's wound.

"There's no time for that," Mikal said. "We need to get out of here."

"I am not leaving Riki behind!" Hans cried.

Mikal did not have a chance to respond, for the next moment the tent entrance was ripped open and a group of Vausterian warriors charged inside. Mikal turned around to fight off the attack along with Hans's guards, while Hilda stood shielding Hans and Riki.

"Hurry," Mikal grunted as he finished killing off his attackers. "More of them will be here soon."

"There, carry him," Hilda instructed one of the guards as she propped up Riki's body. Leading Hans and the guard carrying Riki outside the tent, Hilda flew as fast as she could, and Mikal followed them closely, leaving the camp in ruins behind.

***

They had been flying hard for almost half the morning. The sun should already be high above them now, but the heavy clouds blanketing the skies concealed both its light and warmth. Late autumn winds slapped against them as they flew above the woods, heading further North. Hilda was at the lead with Mikal, while Hans and the guard carrying Riki flew close behind them, followed by a few more survivors.

"I think we've gotten far enough by now," Hans called above the sounds of beating wings. "Can we stop already?"

"The longer we keep flying the better," Mikal responded.

"The better for whom?" Hans snapped. "Riki is dying! We need to stop and tend to him. Stop this instance, I command it!"

"It's alright, Mikal," Hilda said. "I believe it's safe enough to stop for a short break."

Hans did not even wait for Mikal's approval, and he was already diving down towards the woods, followed by the guard carrying Riki.

Mikal didn't want to admit it, but he was in fact grateful for this break as well. His shoulder had been aching badly and he could not hold any longer. But thankfully, as soon as they landed, Hilda hurried to tend to him. He groaned as she pulled out the remaining part of the arrow from his flesh, and he cried as she applied a burning potion to the open wound. But the pain started to fade as she wrapped a thick bandage around his shoulder. He didn't get a chance to thank her. As soon as she was done with him, she rushed to tend to Riki without sparing Mikal a second glance.

It was still cold in the middle of the woods, despite the small fire they lit. They had no blankets to keep them warm, no food to give them sustenance.

Mikal sat before the fire, holding Dia close to his chest. Hilda sat nearby, bending over an unconscious Riki as she tried to heal him. Hans sat at the other side, his face blank and pale as he watched his dying lover. Mikal knew it was useless. With the amount of blood Riki had lost, and the lack of warmth and healing herbs, the boy had no chance of survival. Yet Hilda still did all she could to save him, fervently whispering healing spells and applying potions with what limited ingredients she had found in the woods.

It was already dark when the guards had returned from their hunt for food, empty handed.

"These woods are cursed," Mikal muttered. "We shouldn't have stopped here."

"Riki would have died if we hadn't stopped," Hilda argued.

"He is going to die anyway."

"Shut up!" Hans cried out. "Don't you dare say it."

"Who are you both fooling? Look at him. There is no way he is going to survive."

"Oh and you can see what he looks like and whether he is going to survive or not," Hans hissed.

"I don't need to see to know whether he'll survive or not," Mikal said. "I can smell his rotting blood across a whole field. And you can't even find the right herbs to heal him."

Hilda lowered her head in silence, and Mikal could tell that she agreed. They all knew that Riki was going to die here.

"We should resume flying at once," Mikal ordered. "At least if he holds until we reach Nordenvania, you might have a chance to treat him properly." It was a lie of course. Because the flight back to Nordenvania would take a few days, and Riki did not look like he could hold on for more than a day. And even if he could, there was no known cure for blood poisoning.

"Let me try searching again," Hilda said as she rose to her feet and spread her wings. "I'll go search for Dragonia."

"Dragonia? In these barren woods?" Mikal scoffed. "Don't waste our time Hilda!"

"It's dark anyway and we won't be flying before dawn. You rest for the night, I'll be back shortly."

Mikal only shook his head as he watched Hilda disappear into the dark woods, guided by a few Angel Light spheres. He did not understand why she insisted on wasting time and healing a boy who was already as good as dead. She should rather care for herself and rest properly, especially that they had neither slept nor eaten anything for a whole day now. She would only exhaust herself for nothing.

Hans was still hovering over Riki, watching him with a horror struck expression. The boy was terribly feverish, his whole body shuddering and sweating despite the stinging cold. He was in great pain apparently. Perhaps it would be merciful to just end his life there, a clean kill to spare him the suffering and spare them the delay. But if Mikal dared suggest such a thing to Hans and Hilda, he would probably end up being the one getting killed.

Lucian cawed by their side. He was the only one to return and rejoin them after the retreat. The rest of the raven army, however, had simply vanished. There had even been no sign of any other ravens for the whole day. No matter how many times Lucian had cawed and how loud he cried, he could not summon a single bird. It was as if a spell had wiped out all the ravens in Engeldom, except for Lucian.

Mikal did not notice when he fell asleep, a result of the long exhausting day and the silence of the dragging night. He was the first to wake up, when it was still dark. Small flames still crackled in the center of their small camp. Hans lay sleeping next to Riki, holding his right hand, and someone else lay to their left, holding Riki's other hand. Dia shifted closer, and Mikal could see Hilda's face. Despite his relief that she was back safely from her useless hunt, he could not hold back that inexplicable irritation at seeing her snuggled so close to Riki, holding his hand. Frowning, Mikal walked straight to the sleeping trio.

He was just about to shake Hilda awake, when he saw that she was not sleeping. Her eyes were closed, but her lips were moving in fervent whispers, reciting incantations, and her face was wet with tears. She held Riki's hand with a tight grip, while her other hand rested above his wound.

Mikal did not speak. He only stared at the face of the dead boy lying next to Hilda. It was dark indeed, but with the aid of Dia's vision Mikal could clearly see the cold ashen skin, the blue lips, and the dead still body.

Mikal carefully knelt beside Hilda and lightly touched her arm, wondering if she was aware that Riki was dead. But she wouldn't still be performing spells if she knew he was dead. Or was she trying to bring him back?

"Hilda?" Mikal dared a whisper. Hilda's eyes shot open and she sat upright with a gasp. She looked at Mikal with a horrified look, before she quickly turned back to Riki and touched his face. Mikal held her shoulders just as her body started shaking with suppressed sobs.

He couldn't help feeling a little bad about his earlier jealousy. He was aware that Hilda was a close friend to Riki, a boy who was not even interested in women. She was only sleeping next to him and holding his hand in a final desperate attempt to cure him. But it did not work. And now he was dead.

"Come here." Mikal pulled Hilda into his arms and she cried in silence, as if not wishing to disturb the dead. He held her close and smoothed her hair, while he watched Hans still resting peacefully by Riki's side, oblivious to the death of his lover.

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