Maybe (COMPLETED)

Chapter Thirty Two

Hey guys! As promised (though it was more of a suggestion than a promise) here is a chapter from Archer's point of view! I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it... It was actually so much fun!!

By the way... I know it's a little weird... Archer is a little weird when you get to see inside his mind... 

Archer's P.O.V

"Shit." I gasped as Isaak crumpled to the ground. Sometimes I forget how much Saga's magic affects the minds of the people he targets.

"He's fine." Saga's ever calm voice assured me. I felt his hand on my shoulder and realised I was about to rush over to the fallen boy. "He is tired, he needs more rest. So do you." The last part he added quietly, before moving over to Isaak. 

I nodded, relaxing slightly. I know Saga would never admit it, but he cared for Isaak. My eyes followed the older immortal as he approached Isaak, and gently caressed his cheeks, and checked his heart to ensure the beat was a steady pace. Saga was softer then he would let on. Kinder, warmer.

I would never say this aloud, but I felt that Isaak was safe with Saga. Saga had deeply respected Isaak's parents and sworn an oath of protection. He had stayed with Isaak on Earth for the seventeen years that Isaak had been there. He knew him better than any of us, than anyone. And he loved him as he would love a brother.

No matter how frustrating and irritating Saga was, no matter how unbreakable his mask was, I trusted him.

Wolf was shivering next to me. I glanced at her; or him, as she pretended to be. She glanced over to me and I gave her a comforting smile, knowing she was scared. Her eyes were glazed though; her mind wasn't in the present.

Ever since she had to appear as a man to get a stable job as a young bartender, she had never really been in the present. She had been claimed too pretty a girl to work a proper job, declared that her body was only useful in bed. She had come to me for help disguising her true identity. At the time I did not know her, but now, I considered her a friend and ally.

"Willow," I called, using her real name, "he's okay."

She nodded, still lost in her mind. I reached over to gently squeeze her arm, ignoring my body aching with fatigue, stomach still aching from Mekhi's sword, and she finally looked up. "How are you feeling?" I asked her, using the soft tone I only had for those I considered a true friend. "You fought hard yesterday."

Her eyes skittered from me to Isaak. "I'm okay." She murmured.

I knew she wasn't, but I let it slide this time. "Okay." I turned to approach Saga; he had moved Isaak to a more comfortable position and placed my cloak over him again. "I'm always here." I told her quietly.

"Hello." Saga's bright brown eyes watched mine with a curious expression. I knew it was the face that hid his true feelings; curiosity was easy for him to wear, as he always was.

"I wish you would tell me what you know."

"I know too much."

I took a breath at his response. His need for direct questions continued to frustrate me, especially as I knew that he knew all too well what my question meant. I considered whether I should bother asking him further, or leave it be. I rubbed my aching forehead, grimacing. 

He knew about Mekhi. He had always known. All this time that the Sahaan had entrusted Mekhi to care for Ash, he had been working for the King Colm. 

It was only in the past few weeks I began suspecting Mekhi. His strange remarks whenever the okirima or Colm was mentioned, his desire to head north towards the enemy's boarders, his reluctance to look for Saga. Everything pointed to it yet I had refused to believe it.