IRON GOD | 1: Peripeteia

[18] Dakko: The Soft Touch of a Devil

  All he saw was blinding white. A harsh ringing was all he heard. And for the first time he could really remember, he felt hot. It was such a strange sensation, and he couldn't decide whether or not it was unpleasant.

His fingers twitched. Dakko remembered his body then, but when had it ever been this heavy? He tried to take a breath and found that he couldn't. Something hot and wet strangled him. He was drowning on dry land. Dakko bolted upright in sudden panic. Then he saw his blood fall onto the blank ground, an agonizing red against the white. The splatters shrank and then faded, taking all the light with them.

A moment later, everything was pitch black.

Sweat dripped down Dakko's forehead. A sweltering wind blew over him as something immense breathed down his neck. He turned and his god looked back at him. Vraelen's immense blue eyes looked confused to see him there.

You are not supposed to be here.

The Iron God's words drove all other noise from Dakko's mind. He tried to respond, but he choked on his own blood.

Haode claims himself my follower. The eyes burned with rage. Yet he has disrespected me in the vilest way.

Dakko coughed. "Please, I didn't want..." He fell to his hands and knees in front of Vraelen. "I don't want to die!"

This was not your fault, child, so I will lift you back up. A clawed finger tipped his chin upward. But I cannot heal you. That's beyond me right now, Dakko. Whether you live or die is not for me to decide this time.

Dakko closed his eyes and then they froze shut. He could still see a soft blue through his eyelids. It warmed him deep inside, like a sunrise after a long cold night. Then the blue turned to red, red turned to violet, and then all was dark again.

He grew dimly aware of reality again. Someone was cradling him. His first thought was that it was Haode, but the hands were too large. Was it Vraelen? He tried to open his eyes and look, but there was a thick layer of ice over his eyelids. A sharp pain shot through his neck and clawed its way up his face. He whimpered.

An unfamiliar man's voice soothed him. "Shhh, shhh. I know it hurts. Here." A huge warm hand clasped the side of his head. With that touch, nothing hurt anymore. For perhaps the first time in his life, Dakko felt entirely calm and safe.

A slightly more familiar voice penetrated the haze. "How's he doing, Master?"

"I don't think he's going to make it. I'll do what I can." The man's tone was oddly cold. "Channei, go to Qila. She'll tend to your burns."

Channei tried to protest. "But..."

"Now, please."

Dakko heard her leave. He tried to make sense of what was happening. Why was Channei's master here? Where had he come from? Where were Ido and Haode? Were they dead? No, they couldn't be. They couldn't be. The calm he had felt a moment ago turned to white-hot panic. He squirmed.

"I'm sorry, poor child." As the man spoke, a tingling sensation crawled up Dakko's spine. "I'm so sorry."

Dakko tried to speak but couldn't make much of a sound. He clawed the ice from his eyes. Everything was blurry. He blinked a few times. Gradually, Channei's master swam into focus. He was not at all what Dakko had expected from hearing Haode's warnings.

Calm but cold eyes looked back at him through goggles. Sleek black hair went down to the man's shoulders. He somehow looked both young and ancient at the same time. Everything about him hinted at immense power. Why, then, was he so gentle?