Carmine (Completed)

Chapter 7

The air cornered as the moon lost the fight to the heat of the raising sun, that and my beating heart. It was hot on the trail to damnation. To think this would happen, to think we would find ourselves like this.

It was asked of me to fight for my life, but why were so many men desperate to take it? I tried to slow my breathing, but the pressure shackled me. Three men in cloaks stopped in front of us.

I fidgeted, but fear ripped through me when I noticed one of them staring at me. Valor merely stood there and watched the men.

His hand hovered on his axe with its short handle, yet that metal was engraved with drawings of birds that swirled around the edge of the gleaming metal.

I wondered who crafted such an axe for him. Here I thought he was a simple sell-sword. He might be of import to be carrying around such dangerous artistry.

Nothing moved, while the bush near us shook in response to our monotonous standoff.

Afraid to breathe, I barely mustered an exhale as my legs shook at the thought of my possible death.

“Tch!” I heard from one of them.

“Hand over the lass and we let you live,” the man across from us said.

“Take her from my cold dead hands,” Valor replied. I shuddered at his potent words, for I knew my situation was dire. Far from the edge of a dream, this was a nightmare.

He tried to round Valor who remained still. A spilt second later, the man’s face took a vicious slice. Blood spilled from the epicenter.

Valor’s foot hooked the back of his leg dragging it forward then he cleaved the axe into the man’s knee. It enlisted a shattering scream that set the two others to rush him.

One sidestepped Valor and came at me. I froze. The man shook and fell face first.

He dropped before my stiffened foot and his blood spattered across my old linen trousers. I winced at the axe logged in the back of his head.

The axe was lodged in the back of his head. Half of it, anyways; I swallowed hard as my throat flooded with saliva and I looked away, while lightness clouded my thoughts.

I breathed out and tried to focus. My chest heaved from the tension and I riveted to the marrow of my bones as dust tickled my skin. The wind blew and segregated into currents after it slammed into Valor’s unmoving figure.

The other guy held his side, the ground drenched with a steady stream of blood.

Valor gripped his neck and drew him in close.

“Who sent you? Tell me and I will end the pain now,” Valor said. As much as I did not like the sound of that, I said nothing.

“Arrgh…ah..ch…” his chest heaved to the pressure to speak much less breathe. “Erot…”

As in the God Erot?

“I see.” Valor took out a knife. I looked away. His dismal cry for life ended with a yelp and gurgle.

Why did so many people want me dead?

“Carmine,” his voice called to me, so sweetly.

I stared into his face, while drops of blood rolled down some parts of it. His eyes were serene. His smile remained me of how my father stared at me, with pride. A mumbled curse escaped my lips, for I never imagined I would miss such a thing.

“Come on, we have almost reached Septilon,” he said.

“Here I thought we would never reach.”

He came close taking the bag out of my tight grip. The pain eased off my fingers. I had not realized how tight I held it.