Page 51
Story: Claimed By the Stone Beast
On my right, the second elf lunges for Korrin. Korrin tries to dodge, but the movement reopens his wounds. He cries out, dropping to one knee. Panic grips me.He’s helpless.The elf grins, raising his blade for a killing strike. I can’t reach them in time physically.I must fling magic again.Summoning a desperate spark, I fling my arm outward, trying to recall the feeling of unleashed power. For a heartbeat, nothing. My heart clenches.No, no, no.Then a tiny jolt flickers along my palm, just enough to distract the elf. He jerks sideways, the bladeslicing into Korrin’s shoulder instead of his throat. Korrin roars in agony.
Fury ignites a deeper surge in me.They won’t kill him.This time, a sharper arc of silver lightning crackles from my fingertips, slamming into the elf’s chest. He’s thrown back with a scream, dropping the blade. My mind reels at the raw violence, but I can’t stop.Protect Korrin.The elf hits the ground, twitching, eyes rolling back. The second elf recovers from my earlier knee strike, eyes wide with horror.
He glances at his fallen partner, then at me, fresh arcs dancing around my trembling arms.I must look half-insane, hair wild, face streaked with tears, collar half-shorn from my neck.He curses in the dark elf tongue, turning to flee. Relief floods me.He’s running.I lurch forward, but my chain snags again, nearly causing me to trip. I watch him vanish into the boulders, presumably to warn others. My chest heaves.No time to chase him. Korrin’s bleeding out.
I drop to Korrin’s side, tears slipping from my cheeks. “No, no,” I whisper, pressing my hand over the fresh wound at his shoulder. Dark blood seeps through my fingers, adding to the gashes on his wing stumps. He moans, eyes squeezed shut. My mind roils: we can’t keep fighting off squads like this, not with him so wounded and my magic so erratic.We need to get somewhere safe.
His lashes flutter. “Elyria,” he rasps, voice so faint. “S-sorry. I can’t… stand.”
I cradle his cheek, tears falling onto his battered skin. “Don’t you dare apologize,” I hiss, trying to hide my terror. “We’ll get through this.” My gaze darts around. The elf I hit with lightning lies unconscious or dead, the other fled. We have moments at best.We must move.But how? Korrin can barely stand.
My chest constricts with panic. Then, an idea tugs at me from the memory of that unstoppable power in the arena. I recallhow, in my final surge, I lifted a wave that flung heavy gargoyles aside.Could I use it to carry Korrin, to flee swiftly?The thought terrifies me—my control is so unrefined. I might harm him further or cause us both to crash. But we’re out of options.
I brush hair from his face. “Korrin, hold on to me,” I murmur, voice shaking. “I’m… I’m going to try something.”
He groans, half-lucid. “Whatever it is, I trust you.” The softness of that statement nearly undoes me.He trusts me even with raw destructive magic.
I steel myself, hooking an arm under his shoulder. My mind drags up the sensation of that silver aura swirling around me in the arena, the unstoppable wave that parted the clan. Fear glimmers:What if I lose control?But I banish it.He’s dying if we stay.
Drawing a trembling breath, I summon the flicker in my blood, the purna inheritance. My battered collar crackles ominously. My entire body seizes with tension as the magic responds, swirling in my chest like a searing sun. I whisper a desperate plea—some half-formed incantation or prayer—and direct that power into my limbs, imagining a cushion of force beneath us, a surge that might carry us. My arms tingle, arcs dancing around my wrists. Korrin gasps as the air around us thickens.
We rise a few inches off the ground, a shimmering bubble of silver light forming under our feet, lifting us slowly. My heart leaps:I can do it.Korrin clings to me, eyes wide in shock. The bubble wobbles precariously, threatening to collapse. My arms shake. Pain bites into the half-melted collar. But I cling to the thread of magic, ignoring the tears that stream from my eyes. “Hold tight,” I choke out.
He nods, pressing his face to my shoulder. With a strangled cry, I push the bubble forward, drifting a foot or so above the rocky ground. Each breath is a labor, my lungs burning as themagic scours my veins.Just enough to move swiftly, so his feet don’t drag.We lurch forward, swaying unsteadily, but it’s faster than limping. My entire body quivers, yet determination spurs me on.We must find cover.
With teeth gritted, I guide the bubble across the valley floor, scanning for an overhang or cave. The effort is immense. Sweat drenches me, and dark splotches dance at the edge of my vision. Korrin remains silent, trusting me, cradling his shattered wings. The slope ahead rises toward a stand of stunted pine trees. If we can reach them, maybe we can hide among the brush.Almost there.
The bubble flickers dangerously. My control slips. I let out a sob, forcing the power to hold a moment longer. The collar crackles, runes glowing faintly in protest. My scalp prickles with pressure, migraines stabbing behind my eyes.We’re so close.We crest the slope, pine needles brushing the shimmering edge of my conjured force. Then the magic collapses entirely, dumping us onto the ground. I gasp, arms wrapped around Korrin to cushion his fall. We roll in a tangle, pines scattering needles on our exhausted forms.
By some miracle, we land softly enough not to aggravate Korrin’s wounds too severely. I lie there, chest heaving, the last arcs of silver dancing across my arms before fading into numbness. My entire body throbs, head pounding from magical backlash.I can’t maintain that again soon.But we’re among the pines now, mostly hidden from prying eyes. The slope behind us conceals us from the open valley. Breathing heavily, I glance around: the pine stand is dense, the ground covered in needle litter, forming a quiet grove.This might be safe enough for the moment.
Korrin groans, clinging to consciousness. I shift to cradle his head in my lap, tears flowing down my cheeks. “Korrin,” I whisper, brushing hair from his damp brow. “We’re… we’rehidden. Rest.” He nods faintly, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and pain.
I exhale, scanning the area for signs of pursuit. The pines stand silent, wind stirring their branches. No elf voices, no gargoyle wings beating overhead. A trembling relief seeps into me.We escaped immediate threats.
For a long while, we remain there, catching our breath. My magic is dormant again, leaving me shaky and hollow. Korrin’s face is pale, lines of pain bracketing his mouth. Yet he’s alive, chest rising and falling under my palm.We can’t keep running indefinitely. We must fortify or find a deeper refuge.But at least, for this fleeting moment, we’re free from the fortress’s blood-soaked ring, from the clan’s cruel decree.
He stirs, voice raspy. “You saved me again,” he manages, grimacing at the twinge in his shoulder. “I… can’t repay?—”
“Stop,” I interrupt, pressing a trembling kiss to his forehead. “You gave everything first. We do this for each other, no debts.” My tears slip onto his cheek, and he closes his eyes, a soft moan escaping.We’re battered, but together.Overflowing love fills me, overshadowing the terror of the last hours.
Time drifts, the morning light brightening into a sunlit day. Slowly, we muster the strength to explore the pine grove. Korrin limps, leaning on me heavily. We find a shallow indentation at the base of a boulder where we can huddle, out of direct sight. I gather pine needles to make a makeshift bedding, ignoring the stinging in my arms. He sits with a pained groan, letting me examine his new shoulder wound. My chest aches at the raw slash, but the bleeding has slowed.
I wash it with the leftover water, murmuring apologies each time he hisses. He never complains, only watches me with sorrowful devotion. The closeness of the pines, their resinous scent, mingles with the copper tang of blood. Despite thegrimness, I find solace in his presence.They forced a public execution. He refused them all to stand by me.
When I finish, I cradle his cheeks, searching his eyes. “We defied them,” I say softly, “both gargoyles and dark elves. We’re free, but we’re hunted. Are we truly prepared to keep running forever?”
He closes his eyes, exhaling a ragged breath. “I can’t run,” he murmurs, voice thick with pain. “Not far, at least. My wings are gone, my body battered.” He rubs the scorched stumps, biting back tears. “But if we must fight again, I’ll stand. I won’t let them reclaim you.”
I swallow the knot in my throat. “I won’t let them reclaim me either,” I vow, fire in my belly. “My magic is wild, but it responded to our need. Maybe we can harness it to defend ourselves if they corner us.” My chest tightens with fear.Unleashing more devastation could kill me or him, but we have no choice.
His lips press into a faint, wry smile. “You were terrifying in that arena, you know.” He tries to laugh, but it turns into a cough. I support him gently, heart twisting.He’s so broken.
Still, the fact that we can share this moment, even marred by suffering, is a testament to our survival. My eyes drift to the collar, half-fused around my neck, runes blackened. I finger it gingerly. “They can no longer use it to strangle me, but it’s still stuck.” I let out a humorless laugh. “Ironic, that even free, I wear a symbol of captivity.”
Korrin’s gaze flicks to it, regret softening his features. “When I can stand better, we’ll pry it off. Or I’ll break it with a stone. I promise.”
I nod, tears brimming. The memory of him snapping his own wings to break the clan’s hold resurfaces.We both wear scars of captivity.But we have each other.That is enough reason to keep living.
Table of Contents
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- Page 51 (Reading here)
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