Arrow's Fallen

Chapter 3: Sneaking Around

(P.O.V Falcon)

Shouts were coming from the end of the hall I was checking. I set the paper I had in my hands down and dashed out into the hallway. By now Verre was looking up the stairs in confused concern. "Quick, Falcon, go check on that." She ordered. I scoffed and didn't even stop to reply. She needn't tell me. Panic rose in my chest as screams were heard from the back room. Arrow was hurt?! Oh, no...no no no...I sprinted into the room and threw back the door. It banged against the wall noisily, but I barely noticed. Arrow was lying unconscious on the ground, and a midnight black panther was lying off to the side, limping awkwardly. I looked between the two and dashed to my Arrow. She was severely scratched up, claw marks on her cheek and arm...and even her back, oh lord Argenté. Blood was seeping onto my gloves as I kneeled there, distraught.

I picked her up carefully, but then yanked back my hands. Small....sparks of electricity were flickering off of her body. I was confused where this was coming from but she needed help, and soon too. I flinched through the large sparks that arose when she touched my cloak. I held her limp body in my hands with all due care. I finally looked over to the shape shifter I had recognized by now from earlier. The girl was whimpering slightly as she tried to move. I could see her leg was badly broken. I had a flash of concern and hesitation, but then my resolve hardened. This forsaken shape shifter had harmed Arrow. My Arrow. I blinked inwardly. My? Um...I cast it aside and turned to leave. I cast one last glance at the girl and caught her gazing up at me, a mixture of anguish and brokenness reflected there. Would I pity her? Should I? No. She had caused me more than enough pain for one day. 

I turned my attention back to Arrow and carried her downstairs, all the way outside where a mist had settled. Verre and HeatPhase followed me, but I once again didn't take notice. Arrow stirred in my arms and blinked open her eyes. "D-di-d you he-l-p her?" She asked raspily. I gazed down at her unwaveringly. "Tell her...someone named Rose Leafens can..help with her leg. I broke it...if I remember." She let her head fall back into the crook of my arm. As I gazed at her, so vulnerable yet so strong as ever, I felt a strange feeling come over me.

I had to stop lying to myself. Every day I could tell myself it weren't true, or I'm kidding myself, or that it was irrational. That does nothing to change the fact...I did have feelings for her. Plain and simple.

(P.O.V HeatPhase)

The scratches on Arrow looked serious when Falcon sent her back. He looked reluctant to leave her side. It's a wonder he still deludes himself with his feelings about that girl- I wonder if she realizes it. The way he would regard her with a far off look sometimes, or go out of his way to make sure she learned something. Whatever the case, I turned to Verre. "I have found a possible entrance. When the shouting began I was evaded from investigating it however." I reported. Verre gave me an impressed look and nodded.

"Let's see it then." She replied.

About one minute later we had arrived in a small basement room with two bookshelves on either side. The rug I had drug aside lay in the place I had set it, and the faint outline of a trap door- without a handle for some reason- was barely visible against the concrete floor. Falcon kneeled down and searched for a mechanism or latch. "Uh- here. There's some sort of slot. It looks like a blade might fit in it." He looked up questioningly. I frowned. Surely we had no way to continue any further with such a specialized mechanism.

Verre beckoned me over. She drew out her glass sword and placed it near the trapdoor while she examined it closely. She muttered a few unintelligible words then picked her blade back up, flipped it, and placed it in my hands. I blinked. "Heatphase, heat the blade to approximately 150 degrees celsius." I hesitantly complied and waited for her to explain. "Alright, place it near the lock." Verre instructed, then she wrapped her hands carefully around the blade. I was taken aback she could handle a half melted piece of glass but she had somehow cooled it down when she held it. After a few seconds of fiddling with the lock it sprang open. The metal plated door faded away like a strange cloud.