Välikirja: The Wyvern's Pact

Chapter Thirteen - Much Better

Chapter Thirteen - Much Better

          There was a dead witch lying right beside my feet, but that was the least of my concern.

          Aiden leaned on the doorway for support. His eyes were drooping, his whole body covered with burns and gashes. His wings had small holes and flinched from time to time, and he had a huge gash on his forehead. He was a pitiful mess.

          I stepped over the witch's corpse and walked up to him, cupping his cheeks with my hands. His skin that looked so pale and smooth before was now bluish and felt so scaly against my palms.

          "You're in such a bad condition," I told him, looking into his eyes that were no longer blank and unrelenting. His eyes told me how weak he felt now, how much he didn't want to need my help, and how terrible his battles were, which his eyes had no choice but to witness. Everything. Every foe, every battle, every secret, every tale—everything that he had witnessed would forever be marked in his mind as memories. I saw everything in his eyes, and beneath all of those, there lay a child longing for love.

          He closed his eyes, and his body tensed. I was certain that he was never used to showing weakness to anyone. But everything had all been given away to me by his eyes, the windows to one's soul.

          "Now, let's get you fixed up," I said, my hands gently sliding from his cheeks down to his wings. I motioned for him to put his left wing over my shoulder, but he didn't move so I snaked his wing around my shoulder on my own. I wrapped my arm around his back and reached for his hand, willing to provide warmth for him.

          This time, he swatted my hand away.

          "I can walk," he growled, his voice coming out in a way which told me that he was forcing himself.

          Because I didn't want to argue anymore, I let go of him and just watched him carefully as he walked. If anything went wrong, I should be prepared to catch him and help him walk. The confident clucking of his boots were replaced by sluggish sounds that sounded like he was just dragging himself instead of walking. He shouldn't force himself to move. It'd be much harder for me to tend to his wounds if he kept on straining himself.

          "Aiden, you don't have to force yourself if you can't walk anymore."

          He snapped in his husky voice, "Look, you little rat, even in this state, I'm a thousand times stronger than you, so just shut your big mouth and—"

          "And what?" I answered defiantly, not showing him fear nor submitting to him.

          He let out a sigh and closed his eyes, trying to control himself, to gain as much composure as he could get. When he opened his eyes, they still weren't back to their old selves; they still showed his vulnerability to me, but the anger and annoyance in his eyes were gone. His hands relaxed. "We're going to my room. I have medical supplies kept there, and it will be the safest room in the whole castle because it's located far from any of the entrances, far from the castle's outer walls."

          I gave a swift nod and walked side by side with him, slowing down a little bit and just walking in his pace. Blood dripped from his wings, and I couldn't help but watch certain drops of hot, red blood dribble from his wounds. My wounded fingers, which now had drops of blood trickling down my fingers and dripping on the floor, brushed against his cold, scaly hands from time to time. I didn't mind.

          Until he yanked on my hand, raised it up between the two of us, and barked, "Well, what do you know, this rat's hand is covered with blood and still has the guts to offer me help."