Shattered Line

Chapter 11: Reunited

She had guessed right. She was a God.

The confirmation of her suspicions left an empty abyss in her heart. A race she found only to be selfish, manipulative, and deceptive. They cared little for lesser beings, having a superiority complex larger than the Heavenly Realm itself.

Isla watched reality settle upon their group, the truth wrapping a ravenous claw around their throats, silencing them. The three girls remained posed, their eyes flickered between themselves, each continuing their wordless conversation with the other.

"Isla?" a deep, calm voice said behind her.

She hesitated, unsure if the intrusion would benefit her. Turning, she faced the source, a man with oceanic irises and matching hair. She remembered those eyes. The same eyes which left an unforgettable impression. "Rein," she murmured.

"It really is you," he spoke, a lopsided smile forming across his lips. The rays of light made his tousled hair shine like ripples on an ocean surface.

Isla blinked repeatedly. Was he real, was it really him? "You're alive." Her eyes scanned his body, searching for some hint to prove her denial. He was real, but wait, what was he doing here in Arcadia? "What are you doing here?"

His smile disappeared. He knew her direction and why she vocalized her confusion. He returned to his homeland. Yet, he continued his blatant stare, unfazed. "I'm a guard. But who would have guessed I'd see you here, Isla." He voiced, her name rolling off his tongue. "Find anything on your father?"

Damn him. He ignored her real question. Why return home when the Arcadians bore responsibility for his family's end? Instead, he changed subjects, rejecting her focus. She glanced towards Rydin, his eyes fixated on Rein. Great, here come the questions.

"No. Nothing yet."

Rein's brow furrowed alongside his frowning face. But as she remembered, Rein's mood was fleeting, his face transformed, brightening into its previous form. "Well, maybe lady luck's coming your way."

She returned his optimism with a soft smile. In the past, his words evoked the same comfort, countless times. Their first meeting—was it two, no maybe three centuries now. Still, no matter, the fine details had little worth when related to Rein.

The day they met, he had helped her without question. Her series of mistakes led her face-first into a trap. Outnumbered three to one and backed into a corner like a rat. An unfortunate scenario with a single weapon for a meager defense.

Confinement by three walls limited her options. A pitiful defense really. For extending her survival became her only self-created thorn.

Lady luck had long since abandoned her. Her lungs heaved and her body sheened with sweat. The cloak she had worn laid shredded to ribbons beside her. Blood dripped from her immobile left arm. But her gaze still swept between each grinning foe, her sword prime and ready.

"Three to one. Is that how you pick up the ladies?" Rein taunted from above, standing on the roof's ledge, stance open and twirling his sword. His confidence bordered on arrogance with the air of a charismatic fool.

Both Isla and her pursuers stared dumbfounded at the interloper. Without pause, he jumped off the roof, behind her attackers.

The middle leather plated brute turned sideways, pointing a meaty finger at Rein's appearance. "Get lost, or die with the girl," he barked.

"I'm afraid not," Rein responded, lunging forward. He feinted an attack at the watchful man, but side-stepped to unleash a calculated blow on one beside him.