Blood of the Merciless

Chapter Three

3.

Alaric slowly opened his eyes. The cloudy sky and his cobblestone house came into view. He could hear someone sniffling to his right side. Realisation swiftly hit him, he got up and rushed down the stone steps past the figure that sat there and viciously began to throw up onto the gravel.

" A-Alaric...You...alive."

Alaric recognized the voice but remained hunched over heaving. Alaric looked like a mess. His white linen shirt had been stained red. His hands and a portion of his face was bloodied. Alaric took a few moments to recompose himself and then turned to face the figure behind him. Florian's face had been damp, most probably from the tears, thought Alaric. Florian ran up towards him and embraced him tightly.

"Thank heavens, I...thought you were gone." Florian cried into his shoulder.

He gently rubbed the back of Florian's head.

He waited for Florian to compose himself before letting go of his embrace.

"Where is Ashe?" Alaric asked.

"I left her at the southern entrance of town," Florian whispered.

Alaric nodded and headed off. He avoided the corpses as he walked. He dared not to look at any of the familiar faces on the ground. He had a glance at a deceased caster, his body began trembling and he struggled to breathe. Alaric steeled himself and continued forward.

He saw the figure of Ashe right where Florian said he left her. She sat on the ground with her knees tucked firmly behind her arms, she buried her face into her knees. Alaric walked up to her and crouched before her.

"This must be equally as terrifying as that spider, to have you this stunned," Alaric said. He had tried to make a joke but he couldn't hide the tremble in his voice. Ashe looked up towards him. Her once vibrant face was completely replaced by a distraught one.

"A-A-A" She had struggled to speak.

"It is okay, don't speak."

Alaric turned so his back faced Ashe. She knew what this meant, when they were kids she always enjoyed the piggyback rides he would give her. She wrapped herself onto Alaric's back and he swiftly stood up.

"Keep your eyes closed, okay?"

Ashe nodded as she closed her eyes tightly.

They met up with Florian then entered their house.

Ashe dashed straight to her room.

Florian and Alaric stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"What happens now," Florian whispered.

"Wait here while I go find freshwater to wash up."

Florian nodded slowly.

A few moments later, Alaric returned with two wooden buckets filled with water. Florian noticed that Alaric had removed his bloodied shirt and walked bare-chested. He examined Alaric's body for wounds but found none.

"What are we going to do about them?" Florian asked.

"I will handle it, just try to get some rest," Alaric answered.

Three days passed at a snail's pace for Florian. He had been immensely exhausted due to the lack of sleep he got. No one spoke a word to each other, they barely ate. The only person to have left the house had been Alaric. A knock came from his door, followed by Alaric's muffled voice.

"Downstairs, now."

By the time Florian reached the bottom floor, Alaric and Ashe had already been seated on their respectful wooden chairs. They had both looked exhausted. Ashe sat with her bare feet on the chair making herself as small as possible. Florian sat on the chair next to hers opposite Alaric.