Hopelessly Devoted ~ Garroth x F!Reader

Ch 30: Ashes And Debris

Hovering above the ground, in front of the gate's entrance, was the fog man who attacked you on Garroth's first night. The ominous light emitting from his body made him easily detectable. His jet black locks defied gravity around his head, sticking up statically. A ring of light outlined his unkempt hairstyle, reminiscent of the halos commonly painted around religious figures. His eyes gleamed an unholy white above his mask, his pupils nonexistent and his eyebrows arched maniacally above the upwards curve of their empty sockets. In his hand, he dangled an enormous gold charm by the chain, which released a similarly blinding aura to that of his body.

You made a break for the forest on the opposite end of him. You couldn't return to Lord Aphmau's house without being spotted, and you were sure it wasn't a safe place to be anymore. You glanced over your shoulder longingly, where you could make out through the window that the dog beds were empty. You veered off of the main pathway to stay out of sight, while other villagers ran frantically on the road. A ways behind you, the demonic form held out the charm of his necklace and concentrated it on a random building. The house rumbled and dilapidated to the ground, leaving a pile of debris in its place. He continued this process down the line of every home.

You gasped, then shook out of your stupor and continued running. Frantic faces came into view now, the blurriness in your vision subsiding. You checked over your shoulder to assess the demon's proximity to you. He wasn't closing in, so you were clear to make a mad break for it.

Your brain immediately jumped to Garroth. Where is he? You twisted your body back and forth, conflicted with searching back through the cindering flames for him. However, you'd escaped a village mid-destruction once before. Turning back was a surefire way neither of you would make it out alive. (TL;DR you'd seen Big Hero 6.)

But you were stunned by the possibility of surviving without him. You'd never be whole. You told him you wouldn't run anymore . . . Your feet planted to the trail, unable to move forward. You couldn't abandon him. The hopelessly-devoted part of you knew that the duty-bound part of him would never give up looking. You understood too well; you'd never quit searching for Aaron. You willed yourself to turn around—you'd be careful, by following the least flame-enveloped path with the smallest amount of char-licked soil. And you wouldn't enter the city—you had a disturbing vantage point to scan it from already. You dodged around smoldering chunks on the trail, your eyes following the side the village was on, as a monstrous cracking sound ripped from the forest edge on your opposite side. You'd have to outrun whatever it was—and so would the heavy-booted footsteps that thudded towards you from the veil of smoke. A fast-moving force made contact with the front of your body, picking you up with two strongly built, warm metal arms. The helmed man carried you in the opposite direction you'd been running to, back towards open forest.

From your viewpoint over his shoulder, a towering fir tree snapped into a jagged half, the disconnected piece landing roughly, directly on the path where you would've ended up. You shuddered at the thought of what could have happened without your rescuer, before a wave of familiarity and solidarity washed over you. You gaped in relief and astonishment. Even with a helmet on, you knew it was your familiar blond underneath. In fact, it could be argued that his helmet is what gave it away—though you wanted to believe you would've sensed his presence even if the entire knight force regularly equipped their head gear. You confirmed your suspicions by burrowing closer to his chest plate and using your worm's eye view to peak in from under his visor. He was even captivating in his determined expression of stoicism, his eyebrows drawn forward and sights dead set on an open clearing of gravel. "Garroth . . . You're okay." You said meekly, hugging him tighter—despite being pretty sure he couldn't feel it, and the bumpiness and rigid quality of the ride as the joints of his armor dug into your arms.