A New Age, of old strength and allies (ONC 2023)

6. A truth of tales

I had no idea how much time had passed when I found myself suddenly awake, listening to my heart racing. Shivering, I could feel the heat of my skin, slick with sweat. Propped up on my side, I felt someone’s hands on my lower back, bracing me. My free hand jerked forward on instinct as I tried to steady myself, but another reached forward, grasping my wrist.

“Stay still.”

I turned, the sound of the voice unmistakable. Cain stood behind me holding a dagger. Before I could even utter a word, he had cut my jumpsuit, ripping the material apart.

“That’s a little brutal, don’t you think?” Abel asked without hiding his humour.

Although they both seemed calm and relaxed, my eyes narrowed as I took in a deep breath. The surrounding air thickened into a viscous-like density. I heard their breathing shallow as the pressure around me built – my anger urging me to pin them both to the floor, to crush their windpipes.

Breathing out, I stilled. “What are you doing? And fair warning, it had better be good.”

“Just look at that hot glare.” Abel gasped, smirking as he brushed back his blonde curls, totally unfazed. “And just so you know, anything we do is better than good, but Cain is removing small pieces of shrapnel from your back. You clearly had way too much fun on the train without us.”

Distracted by him, the sharp, piercing pain came without warning. The tip of the dagger causing me to grit my teeth in pained determination.

“Swear if you need to. I won’t think any less of you,” Cain said, a hint of amusement brushing his tone.

“She wouldn’t give us the satisfaction, though she’s clearly feeling better,” Abel laughed, as he reached forward to wipe the sweat trickling down my cheekbone.

The urge to push them both away was strong, and for a few moments I struggled, until common sense finally won out. Although, remaining on my side was still uncomfortable.

I waited until I felt Cain moved away, before rolling onto my front and bringing my arms up to rest upon. The pain and fever made it almost impossible to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable. Not that I gave a shit. For once, I was just grateful for another’s help.

I flinched as Cain returned. The tip of the dagger finding another piece of shrapnel.

At the time I hadn’t felt much at all, probably due to the adrenaline, and whilst on the train I had been too focused on other things. My shoulders and back muscles flexed, tensing with every flare of pain.

Turning, I glimpsed Cain leaning over me, as my eyes narrowed. “If the wound on my shoulder was healed by heavenly fire, why have the shrapnel injuries remained the same?”

Bearly sparing me a glance, Cain subtly raised an brow, the gesture filled with sarcasm.

I heard Abel laugh at his response, and with a flick of my wrist, sent him flying back to smash against the wall – even as a sudden sharp pain sparked behind my eyes from the strain.

“You really do like to play rough, don’t you,” he said, as he shook himself off with a look of calculated excitement. “You should probably know, though, that I enjoy it.”

“Having briefly got to know you, I’m really not surprised.”

I turned back to Cain, ignoring the sound of Abel’s deep laughter.

“It's the shrapnel then?”

He looked up, meeting my gaze. “Well done... I knew you’d get there eventually,” he said, a dark look of enjoyment crossing his features.