VIOLENT TIDES (gxg - editing)

39

Ainsley's leathery wings dragged along the deck behind her, snagging on splintered wood, like the wet, rumpled wings of a butterfly fresh from its chrysalis. This was no rebirth, though.

Her heart pulsed painfully in the bleeding wounds she bore as she struggled to cross the final few steps towards Gael. Where her hand lay limply on the wood, Gael's fingers twitched, signifying the final sighs of life that still ran through her veins. Ainsley fell to her knees next to her and gathered Gael in her arms.

Overhead, the dragons were taking a swirling flight over the sea, leaving the burning streets of the city behind. The wall in her mind was gone, in shambles after her emotional outburst, and she could feel the consciousnesses of the beasts as they passed—felt their sorrow and rage more clearly than her own, perhaps.

Gael's hand slid into her own, their blood mingling. Her eyes stared up at the drizzling sky, blank and fringed by long, wet lashes. Her hair spilled out of the bandana she used to tie it back, curly and haloed around her head.

Ainsley pulled her closer, pressing a hand to the wound on her stomach. Blood pooled around her fingers and Gael shuddered, a pained expression crossing her face. A single line of dark crimson appeared from the corner of her mouth.

Sobs shook Ainsley's shoulders as she leaned over her, cradling her in her lap, unable to form words. Foggily, as if it were only happening in a dream, she felt the wings beginning to shrivel, shrinking before they fell off entirely. A cold wind pushed against the gaping wounds in the top of her head, brushing against raw and bloody flesh where the horns had withered away. Scales sunk back into her skin, leaving behind bloody continents. Her entire back was warm and sticky with it, too much for even the continual downpour to wash away. Suddenly, she felt smaller than ever before.

"Gael?" She asked, voice hitching and choked. She rested a red-stained hand on her cheek, tried to get her to make eye contact. To look anywhere but at the low, heavy clouds that were mirrored in her blank gaze. "Gael, look at me. Please."

Gael's only response was a soft, slow exhale and a gentle squeeze of Ainsley's hand in hers. Her lips parted, like she wanted to speak, but finally, her eyes fluttered shut instead.

Ainsley held Gael's head against her chest, burying her face in her thick hair as she shuddered with sobs. The pain in her ribcage was sharp and aching, worse than the pain wrought by the bloody lacerations that adorned her body. Her stomach hurt and her eyes and throat burned.

A roar reverberated out over the ocean. Ainsley lifted her head, eyes red and pooling with tears, and looked out, away from Fortra, towards the sound.

In the distance, there was a disturbance in the water.

The sound of wingbeats filled the air and Ainsley ducked instinctively as the army of dragons swept out towards the churning whirlpool, then spun upwards in a vortex of wingbeats that lashed salty spray out in every direction.

And then Ainsley felt another soul touch her own.

It was like when she spoke to dragons, but so much more—like something had been driven straight into her heart. She felt it thudding unnaturally in her chest, every breath trembling on her lips as she held Gael close and stared out towards the water.

Something broke through the surface like a breaching whale.

Water slid off of it in sheets, thundering back to slam against the waves and send foam and saltwater flying. The rain began to lessen as if on command, fading to a steady drizzle.

And still it towered upwards, hundreds of feet of a stony grey surface lunging out from the depths of the sea.

Tall, stone-skinned, and unmistakably humanoid.