The Keepers of Eternity

XXXII

     It was shocking—Blaise thought as he stood in front of the Giant—how many times he so easily put himself into mortal danger. It was so easy for him in fact, that it could have been called a talent. He should very well add that to the running list of skills he'd been mastering over the course of his life.

With hands held high, Blaise took a step backwards, his boots squishing on top of the rancid earth. The Giant seemed slow to react to his presence, but it definitely knew he was there. He could feel the heat of the utrya's nostrils as it began its avian purr. Its yellow eyes flecked with green dilated at the sight of a potential food source.

Blaise took in a deep breath, slowing his heart rate, and focused his vision to Abreigelle who was still squatting in the tree above. She was mouthing a rainbow of colorful language at him, her disc-holding hands shaking with frustration. She couldn't very well fire at the beast with Blaise nearby, or risk hitting him.

With luck, his presence out here would force her to think creatively. "Well?" Blaise called expectantly. The creature hunched forward, its maw just feet from his own body. "I'm waiting!" That breath smells putrid.

And the utyra lunged.

Blaise hurled himself upwards, not exactly in the most graceful manner. In fact, his jump sent him him crashing into the utyra's feathered snout, which he bounced off of and landed again in the dirt, face-first. Pain shot through his nose and cheekbone. The creature roared and then smacked him again with its jaw. Blaise remembered flying a few feet before being engulfed by the foliage, and his head pounding.

A moment later, Blaise gasped for breath, distinctly bothered by the warm, slimy sensation on his face and dripping down his neck. His eyes were fuzzy when he opened them and then got to his feet, stumbling away from the sound of the utyra's growls. "Dammit." He cursed. That hit was much harder than he expected. He fumbled for the disc-box at his hip. It was thankfully unbroken, along with his discs, as he'd felt no presence leave his mind. The memory of that Rvyni crossbow archer still gave him nightmares.

"You maniac." Blaise heard Abriegelle land on the ferns next to him. Now, she stood between him and the agitated utyra. "Next time I'm not coming in to save you. Fight your own battles for once."

"Well, you're the once contemplating the morality of fighting in the first place." Blaise replied, wiping blood mixed with snot from his face. "Life only rewards those who take action."

She shot him an angry glance from behind her shoulder. "You're telling me that?" She sighed and then lit a shielding disc.

Sometimes, there were simply things beyond your control. Blaise knew that better than anyone alive. Many people had wondered the same thing about Blaise: surely an immortal would have higher aspirations than to just remain a secret to the world. Why not become a king, or start a revolution? Why not help the humans?

Of course, dealing with animals was far different than seeking to change the societal structure of entire nations. It was a matter of the size of such events--much like a tower, in fact. Take a brick from the top, and no one would care. A brick taken from the foundation, however, would topple the entire building.

So, it came down to a simple fact. Some people were just not born to rule, or conquer, or have fame. Some were born to exist silently, and spread their influence like small grains of pollen on the summer wind. When it came down to it, Blaise would do things his way, above all else. When Blaise started uprooting the world from a position of power, he knew he would be as good as dead.

"Have you finally made up a plan?" He snapped.

Abreigelle's gaze was intently fixed on the beast in front of her. "Not exactly."