Alone Together

Chapter Seven

        Two years passed without incident. The tribe had fully accepted me as one of their own. I went on more patrols than I could count, both hunting and border. Occasionally, one of the healers took me with them when they needed help hauling the ingredients around. When I'd learned the territory, they let me lead patrols. Only recently, in the last month or so, had we begun to sense trouble from the Tesera. Along with our preparations for winter, we prepared for war. The healers made bandages, potions, and even poisions, although everyone regretted the possible need of the latter. Yellow-Peace and Fire-Song kept the forge running day and night, forging a surplus of weapons. If all passed without incident, then we'd use them to trade with the other tribes, and even in the citiies if someone wanted to make the pilgrimage. From the intel we could gather, the Tesera were making preparations too. 

        For someone who had survived on their own this long, I was incrediebly stupid. Astrid had gotten sick, and although it was nothing serious, she was quarentined in the sick bay. Apollo and the others were all doing something, and I didn't feel like interupting. Regardless, I was restless, so I slipped out of the camp after a brisk nod to those on guard duty, and took a walk through the forest. The evening air was cool, borderlining cold, and there was a promise in the sharp scent of the approaching winter. I walked, lost in thought, the leaves crunching rythmatically under my feet with every step. I didn't even realize I was at the border until I heard a twig snap. My head snapped up, and my attention focused on a Tesera warrior standing across the marked line. I was still well in my territory. As he stared back at me, I noticed my old dagger in his hand. I felt the sudden shock and vulnerability of being weaponless and confronted with an enemy, and I started backing up. 

        I was unprepared when he ran at me, letting out a war cry. He crossed the border without hesitation. I tried to jump out of his way, but fear and shock had made me slow. I staggered backwards from the impact, and the very dagger I had forged found itself lodged into the flesh of my stomach. "One less Akiire to steal our food," the warrior growled. I fell onto my knees, my hand going automatically to the knife in my stomach. I looked down at it, absolutely dumbfounded. I had just been stabbed with something I'd created. The blood gushed on, covering my hand in a matter of seconds. Even with my nonexistent medical knowledge, I knew this was bad. This was really, really bad. By the time I'd looked up again, the warrior had disappeared. Bastard ruined my new shirt, I thought as my back hit a tree. I managed to straighten my legs out in front of me, and when I finished, I went into a coughing fit, blood spraying from my lips. I took deep, gasping breaths, ignoring the twinges of pain as I did.

        It seemed like my dying regret would be my own stupidity. I should have known better than to leave the camp unarmed. Actually, I did know better, and now I was paying for my carelessness. Idly, I began to wonder how long it would be until I bled out. Bleeding out was a slow, torturous death. Then, I began to wonder how long it would be until my body was found, and what kind of reaction the tribe would have. 

        Another twig snaps, and I look up again. "Here to finish me off?" I call out, searching for the warrior. As another coughing fit racks my body, Helios steps into view. "A pleasant surprise," I gasp in between coughs, blood trickling out of the corner of my mouth. "A? What the hell happened?" he asks, dropping to his knees next to me. His voice sounds far away, like I'm underwater. "Went for a walk unarmed. Tesera warrior was waiting on the other side of the border," I explain weakly, taking deep breaths. It seemed like I just couldn't get enough air. Helios furrows his brow and gently removes my hand from the handle of the dagger, leaving it embedded in my stomach and sending a jolt of pain radiating from the spot. I grit my teeth and refuse to cry out. In seconds, his hands are also covered in my blood. "Should we take the knife out? I...I couldn't remember the lessons I'd been given," I ask, my voice trembling, and for a moment I really want to cry. "No. You'll bleed out faster. If we're quick, we can still save you," he answers. He takes a dagger from his own belt and cuts my shirt away, peeling the sticky material from my stomach, leaving the pale skin exposed. The blood left a trail on my skin, and I focused in on it with unnatural clarity, wanting to follow the trail with my fingertips. I don't. 

        "What are we going to do?" I ask weakly. Because of my lifestyle, I'd faced death regularly. I'd known I was probably going to die in some bloody, horrible way, but I didn't expect it to be like this. No, I'd never imagined lying on the forest floor, a boy I barely know trying to save my life, and, unexpectedly, trying to comfort me by pushing my hair out of my face and making noises in the back of his throat. He seemed to be thinking hard about something, although I had no idea what. When he put pressure on the area around the dagger, I couldn't help but cry out. I clung to the front of his shirt as I looked up at him, desperately willing him to have a solution.