21. The Ayads

556 45 14
                                    

They all left the Sigyn's cottage after a dismissive hand gesture from the old hag. Milo seethed, not knowing where to let out all the anger she stirred. He walked off, unable to communicate with anyone, too absorbed with his own frustrated thoughts to give any attention to another.

He raced into the aging forest, determined to put as much distance between himself and that awful woman as he could. On top of it all it was getting extremely hot and humid around him, which did nothing to lessen his discomfort. He wanted cold air, or rain: something to cool him off.

As he walked deeper into the forest, the dense undergrowth started to slow him down. Vines and branches clung to him, as if wanting him hold him captive. He took a moment to look around and noted that the trees stood tall and proud. It was a forest he could have loved if not for the proximity to those vile Sigyns. He no longer felt sorry for them. Not after talking to their leader. They had to be idiots to let her take the lead...

The light grew scant, the canopy above stealing it all, and it could have fooled him: it almost felt like home. The Darkwood forest was even darker, but otherwise they were strikingly similar: the gnarly stems, the explosion of leaves. He paused as heard the sound of running water, traces of a smile appearing on his lips. He listened and his feet followed, landing him in front of a small waterfall. The soft sounds of the forest paired with the rushing sound of falling water cleared his mind enough to sort through the thoughts the Sigyn had forced upon him.

He knew that it was too late to just leave it all, he wanted to, oh yes, but no. He couldn't leave. They had him in an iron grip, and he hated it: hated the feeling of not having a choice. Without giving it much thought he removed his clothes and took a step into the cold pond, placing himself under the falling water. He took deeper and deeper breaths, trying to calm down. It helped. The relentless battering of water on his head and shoulders felt strangely relieving.

The stains of their hands upon his body washed away, he could handle it. He wouldn't let them get to him. The devastation of hearing a heart grow silent, Vito's heart, slowly evolved into simpler sadness. Vito lived, and he was going to live far longer than he would have if they had not tried. The blindness: Vito could still see, he could see what others could not... The fear of a new name, a new identity, no he wasn't ready to accept that yet.

"Milo?"

He didn't want to listen. He didn't want reality to barge in just yet.

"You are one strange Nyx, never thought I'd see one naked in a waterfall."

Vigilante... No, he wasn't here, he wasn't present, she couldn't really see him...

"MILO! Vito is leaving, get your ass out of there!"

Damn it!

"If you don't leave I'll throw a dagger at you!" he barked.

"Well, I've got all your daggers here so good luck with that!"

"You'd really think I would get into a waterfall unarmed?" he yelled. He threw the one he had in his hand, aiming at a tree next to her. A soft thunk sounded as it hit, and then he heard a peel of laughter. The last remains of agitation fled at the sound. He even felt a smile emerge as he peered out through the curtain of water to watch her. She was holding her stomach, laughing hard.

"Turn around!" he ordered, and she did.

He quickly got out and put on his clothes, still smiling. It was a relief to smile, more so than the cold water he just left.

"Okay, you can look," he said, and she turned around giving him a lovely grin.

"Naked in a waterfall, but still holding a dagger. I'm amazed!" she said, trying to look serious, but failing miserably. He laughed with her, and it felt good, really good.

World of IoWhere stories live. Discover now