The commands outweighed the boat’s creaking, Wilson shifting and groaning in pain.
How long had he been out? It was too dark to tell.
Something pressed against his shoulder Wilson blinking in Argo’s direction. The halfling’s head drooped limply, for a moment Wilson going stiff, afraid Argo hadn’t survived the crash. His fears melted away as he noticed his slow breathing.
Wilson did a mental check. Argo was here, he could hear Emmy’s voice but couldn’t see her, the same bag was in his grip.
Wilson sighed, slowly looking down the ravin’s darkness.
He gasped, climbing onto the board of wood and pulling Argo backward and away from the deadly edge.
The golden and bronze edges moaned as the ship scrapped further into the ravine. Bits of the stone walls fell, plopping into the water far below.
The ship was practically ruined. The front being blown clean off.
There was a shout from the top deck, Wilson pulling Argo up as the knights began to carefully set people down to the edge of the ravine. His stomach took a drop as he thought of them falling to the water below.
Or maybe it was the way the ship suddenly lurched forward, forcing him to move a lot quickier than he intended too.
“Hey, hey he was knocked out,” Wilson shouted to them, dragging Argo up to the group. Emmy was quickly by his side while the others hesitated.
Their eyes, shifty and caustious, while Wilson heaved his friend onto soild ground.
Emmy’s clothes and hair was drenched, Wilson just realizing that his were as well.
Together, they quickly helped him down along with the others that were injured.
He laid Argo against a nearby tree, his eyes scanning for any life other than their own through the dark. A few lanturns sat at the base of the tree but the night blinded them.
“He’s bleeding.” Brought him back into reality, Emmy’s voice cutting into his thoughts. She was by his side, some form of medicine in her hands.
He looked back at Argo, a steady stream of blood coming from the Halfling’s forehead. Argo’s eyes flickered open, the halfling sitting up and holding his head. He grimanced, the blood smearing onto his hand.
Emmy took his hand, cleaning the blood off of it.
“Where are we?” He asked, voice grogy from sleep.
Wilson nodded his head in the direction of the ruined ship and all the injured soilders. The captain was giving orders and a rolecall for the others.
Argo’s skin practiculy turned pale at the sight. He stood to his feet, stumbling around before regaining himself.
“Sit. Down. You’re hurt!” Emmy stopped him, catching him by the arm. Wilson followed them, through all of Emmy’s demands he kept charging. Emmy’s heels digging into the ground before she eventually gave up.
“Where are we? Did anyone gain info on our current location?” He snapped at the gaurds that were awake and tending to the others.
“Contact with the king in order to regain ourselves and a rescue party if nessary.”
The piolet stepped forward from the small crowd of people. The blue scarf was torn and tattered around her neck.
“There are no lines on this ship. We can’t call the Capital. The flight shouldn’t have taken so long in the first place,” She called out.
“And whose idea was that?”
“Charlotte’s, sir.”
There was a mutter of disapproval within the crowds. Argo rolled his eyes.
“And why would you trust her, she isn’t a pilot!”
YOU ARE READING
The Magic Of An Alter Ego.
Fantasy|Book 1 of 2| Wilson had his hopes high for his future. Emphesis on had. He'd already made the grades in his local college, studied as much magic as he could despite being unable to truely use it to his advantage, and had his sights on one day join...
