What was Lost

Arrow

IMPORTANT NOTE!

Sorry for the long wait guys. A lot has happened recently and none of it good. Lets hope that it gets better from here on out...

I realise its been more than a month and I haven't even updated once and I am very sorry. To tell you the truth, Wattpad was the last thing on my mind. Also, to everyone whose story I was critiquing and stopped halfway through, many apologies. I will make up for it ASAP and do more chapters (without charge).

Its not really a happy chapter, as it reflects my current mood, so. Yeah.

Again, sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Comment and let me know what you think

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The body groaned and the painful noise echoed throughout the square. It was a boy of maybe fourteen years old, just hitting puberty going by the slight stubble he had on his face. A face that was ridden with boils. Groaning, he reached a disease ridden arm towards us.

"Help...me...please...please," he begged, and then promptly fell into a bought of coughs that were so rough they shook his entire body. He coughed more, till he spat out blood stained phlegm.

My heart went out to him, although my stomach heaved at the sight. Had I not already voided my stomach of its contents, I would have puked. Tentatively I took a small step towards the boy, wondering if I could somehow help him.

Realistically, I knew that there was nothing I could do to save him, but surely I could make it so that he didn't have to die in as much pain. Surely I could get him away from the decaying corpses that were crushing him. My steps, small at first, grew larger and larger as my resolve hardened. I had almost made it halfway to the pile before I was harshly jerked back into a chest.

"No!" Chiron thundered, not slacking his hold of my arm.

Startled, I tried to wrestle my way out

But he held strong. Shaking me by the arm he continued to shout. "There is no way you are going to the boy! You wish to die? Is that it? For surely there is no other reason for you to go near him. You cannot help. No one can. This is the plague. Not one person who has caught it has yet survived!"

I stared at him with wide eyes before turning to again look at the boy who was now sobbing hysterically, trying to claw out. He looked up at that moment and our eyes met. He had beautiful eyes. They were the soft green hue of wet grass in summer, but dulled. The whites around them bloodshot and dry.

I ripped out of Chiron's hold with a ferocity that had him staggering backwards and rushed forward to pull the poor child out of the dead. He weighed practically nothing; he was all bones and some skin so it was easy for me to bring him away from the pile to near where Chiron was. There I sat cross-legged on the ground and lay him such that my lap formed him a pillow.

Stroking his hair I looked up at Chiron, reminiscing the many times he too, had held me in his lap and stroked my hair. More and more clear it was becoming to me that this person in front of me was a stranger. My Chiron would never turn away a child.

Numbly, I wondered how many century's it would take to mould the person in front of me into the man I knew. No doubt he would have to face multiple hardships to become as compassionate as he was: or in this case would be.

I continued to sit there, stroking the child's hair as I cooed to him.

I asked him his name, and where his family was. I could physically see him collect the last of his saliva in an attempt to answer my questions.

"Name..my..name is Dari. My family... They...they are i-in the pile..." His voice cracked and he fell back into a string of coughs.

"Im sorry, it will be alright. It will be okay," I assured him. I was lying through my teeth and we both knew it but he didn't comment. Maybe it was because the lies were easier to swallow than the truth or the simple fact that his throat was so sore and dry that he couldn't swallow, let alone reply.

"Im g-going to die, right?" He questioned pitifully, looking up at me through his eyelashes that were startlingly long for a boy. His face was haggard but his cheeks still clung to the last of his baby fat, making him seem younger than he was.

I didn't reply-I couldn't. I just sat there cooing to him and stroking his hair and wishing that instead of a werewolf I had been born a witch. That way, I could have maybe done something, some spell, some potion, to save this child. But I wasn't. I was a Were, and all I could do was sit her and watch as this child died.

He did so quietly, so quietly in fact that at first I thought that he had merely fallen asleep from the exhaustion and pain he was in. Then I noticed that his breathing had stopped, and the last scarce flush of colour drained from his face. It had taken him the better half of an hour from when I had pulled him out to when he died. Chiron tugged at my arm gently and made me stand up.

I didn't speak to him, could barely see him through my tears, and frankly didn't care to. I was too busy looking for some kind of shovel to build a grave with to notice the sound of hooves getting closer.

That is, until an arrow whizzed past my face, skimming my cheek and drawing blood to land in the pile of bodies behind me. The arrow tip was embedded firmly into the eye of a woman who, upon closer notice appeared to be an older version of Dari.

It was his mother.

I wanted to scream but the shock made me mute. Turning sharply I searched for the person who had done such a horrid thing only to see nothing.

Suddenly, my hair was yanked back and and a blade was at my throat. Before I could attempt to scream again the blade was pressed deeper into my skin and drew blood. Risking a cut jugular I stretched my neck further and caught a glimpse of my assailants face. The only thing was, it wasn't human.