Born of Flames

Chapter 43 ~ Noble Vengeance

Sounds buzzed in and out of his ears, faint at first, then gradually growing louder. Tarion cracked his eyes open and shifted the hand that lay in front of his face. Sharp pain spasmed through his shoulder blade and he let out a rough groan.

He gritted his teeth and raised his head slightly. Onyx sand fell from his cheek, but he could still feel a few rough particles plastered to his skin. He shook his head and moved his arm again, managing to prop himself up a few inches.

His surroundings were almost entirely unfamiliar. Corpses littered the ground, some still twitching, but none rising from the places they'd fallen. The sky was dim overhead, almost as if the sun were going down. Tarion squinted as he looked up.

Shock seeped across his features. The sun was setting. Gods, how long had he been laying here? Where were the others? Where was Morana? Tarion braced his hands in the sand and attempted to push himself up fully, but once again, a burning pain in the center of his back halted him.

Before he could make another attempt, sand rustled behind him. He lashed an arm towards Orilight and curled his other fist, magic blazing around it. "Tarion!" He relaxed slightly as Gaelen dropped down beside him, the male's features hardening into a warrior's assessment.

Gaelen pushed Orilight into Tarion's grasp, then raised a glowing hand over his back. "I think I hit something when I landed," Tarion grunted.

He flinched at Gaelen's physical touch but the male didn't pull back. He pressed down in between Tarion's shoulder blades and he couldn't swallow the hiss of pain that rose in response. "Nothing feels broken or out of place."

"Then help me up."

"Are you sure you can stand?"

"We'll find out." Tarion clenched his jaw as Gaelen took hold of his arm, then his hand. He forced himself upright as the male tugged him to his feet. He took a moment to steady himself, then shook out his arms and rolled his head, attempting to ease the gathering ache in his back. "Where is Morana?"

Gaelen pointed deeper into the temple ruins, where a blazing figure was battling an all too familiar demon of shadows. "There's someone else who needs to be dealt with before we join them."

Tarion stiffened, already guessing who Gaelen meant. "Why is the sun setting already?" He asked, buying himself a little more time to recover.

"I don't know. It started moving about ten minutes ago and seems to be sinking faster with every minute that goes by."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"Neither do I."

Gaelen waited as Tarion cast his gaze over the courtyard in an effort to get his bearings before they set out. His attention snagged on three figures in the background, one still fighting corpses and the other two huddled over something. His breath caught as Rehema's pale head tipped back and a haunting wail rose from her lips.

The eternally serene Rehema, crying out as though someone had ripped her heart from her chest. He could only think of one thing that could elicit such a reaction from her. Tarion rounded on Gaelen and found the male's features equally stunned, then sorrowful and resigned.

Tarion started towards the group but Gaelen caught his arm before he'd gotten far. "Morana needs us."

Tarion looked back at Rehema and Neeri. The former had doubled over now, her cries growing louder. He closed his eyes and turned away, swallowing. Gaelen was right. Morana still needed them and someone had to deal with Rhidian. If Arlon was...if he was gone, there was nothing that could be done.