The Universe Rings (A Ringing Purpose)

Chapter Fourteen

Kenneth lay bemused when he felt gravel beneath him. The past few moments had fleeted by in an instant, and when his head hit the ground from the sudden fall, he became even more disoriented. He should be dead, but his pounding pulse told him otherwise, and his body ached only on his head—he hadn't even been truly injured. He attempted to sit up but a stiff weight crushed him, slumped across his torso. That was when he smelled and tasted the blood.

It all rushed into his mind, a tidal wave of panic. The shards and Dior! Adrenaline pierced him, as the shards should've, and Kenneth yanked the weight—no, body—off, tugging it onto its back.

Dior's green eyes faced soullessly at the sky. The thousands of shards shredded his entire body, and deep crimson coated his clothes and hair. He'd been a shield so that Kenneth remained unharmed.

Kenneth's knees grew warm as they rested in the pool of blood, but his body turned stone cold. His mind momentarily lost any complete thoughts, his vision blurred in the hazy nightmare. His trembling fingers pressed onto Dior's neck, feeling for a pulse, but he found nothing. He shook Dior by the shoulders, but his companion lay unmoving, not taking in breaths.

Blood roared in his ears, drowning out the world.

Kenneth slumped back, eyes stinging with tears. "Oh Lord..." the words fell from his tongue in a dreadful ache. "Dior, please please, Dior." His eyes insisted the sight before him was true, but it simply couldn't be.

Dior's knife still lay open in his hand; blood filled the designs carved into the wood.

Then, as if Kenneth's ears unplugged, crowds roared in the distance, firing spells and yells clashed. In the following feverish moment, Kenneth found a nearby cart, and knowing he wouldn't be able to carry Dior, he clenched him under his arms and dragged him to the cart. Dior's knife loosened from his hand, abandoned in the gravel.

As if a shell fell over him, Kenneth retreated from his lifeless friend's body resting against the cart, any emotion numbing rapidly. He scooped his and Dior's knives from the ground, and without a coherent thought, he retrieved Dior's leather jacket from the pool of blood, pulling it on over his coat.

    Kenneth gazed in Dior's direction, and images of Halo flicked through his mind. Yes, that's what he needed to do: find her and teleport her to safety. Kenneth ran, fleeing from the scene.

~

Kenneth ran on autopilot, bolting around corners and recalling which roads led to the beach. Nothing mattered other than the only friend he still clung to. What would he do if he lost her? How would he ever survive suffering in such deep loneliness and despair if so?

A recognizable street which Kenneth knew led straight to the beach came into view. Before he reached it, a jolt hit his body and he impacted against the side of a building. He climbed to his feet, feeling a numbed anger at the sight of the approaching Interitus but knowing he was no match to them. He ran into a nearby alley—hopefully, it led to a beach in some way. Incomprehensible voices and scampering footsteps sounded from nearby Kenneth, and he scrambled for a place to hide. He ultimately fell behind a wide dumpster pushed into a corner in the alley, seconds before a group entered the space.

"What took you so long?" a man's voice asked, smooth yet impatient.

    "Stopped by a cookie shop and had a snack, because that's a very important detour given the circumstances," a young, possibly, teen boy's voice replied, full of sarcasm but not sounding unkind.

    "Don't joke like that," a girl's voice cut through. "But a cookie would taste so good right now."

    "Yeah, like how mom used to—" the teen boy's voice cut off as he winced. "Elbow me again, I swear," he hissed.