The boy had pierced Morgan's abdomen with a wooden dagger. He had figured it out, Daelan could only perceive iron.
The storm seized and Daelan looked for Faolan's eyes. What was he allowed to do. If he just said it, he could kill him.
Faolán rushed towards morgan, if he couldn't fight, he'd try to help him ease his mind.
Cirrus rushed in jumping on floating stones Mo gathered before him. He held the boys jaw and pulled it apart from the rest of his face, revealing burning carbon. Stolas lifted morgans pained body and silently walked back to the fire. Faolán was confused at their reaction to what seemed life threatening to them. He was relieved they were safe, but worried about the meaning behind his death.
A different person stood before stolas who was walking ahead of everybody. An adult woman with a dangerous smirk.
The sun began to fade behind thickening clouds. The breeze smelled like rain and the woman stood against the last of light. Faolán ought to read her but he couldn't reach anything to attribute her. Stolas smelled like fear, but he couldn't be. After all, his smell range was something he couldn't confidently call anything particular.
Morgans eyes remained shut, but his breathing was still rough, not dim like a sleeping person's.
She revealed both her hands from under a fur coat. Caressing her palms back and forth as if she was warming them with slight friction. She pulled back her fingers and let go as if releasing an arrow. Stolas stood still where she aimed without hesitation. Only twisting his hips enough to cover morgan's body, which he still carried with both arms.
It was not a bullet but an anchor she had shot at him. The corners that grasped on him as she pulled, penetrated his skin, ripping his flesh apart like teeth pulled apart raw meat. She continued to tangle an invisible rope around her arm as she pulled stolas who resisted only as much as he could handle.
Faolán turned to the remaining of the broken boy behind him. If he could use his shell as a projection of his own. Would he be allowed.
He caressed his face and surrendered to the overwhelming feeling that a touch allowed him to feel.
Suffering beyond death only sometimes people were willing to endure. Some for love, but for him who laid exposing his bare insides, it was a birth condemn.
He ought to look at the woman, who was still attached to the child by a transparent veil like a cord, with rage he'd never felt before. His eyes mirrored the sun. He trembled unable to breathe without consciously making himself. A shudder ran down his spine.
Harriet cried Stolas' name, who remained still in front of the frightening woman. He continued to cling to morgans body facing the ground. Faolán curled up in a position he could protect his stomach with his thighs, wrapping them tightly with his arms.
The witch pointed, with long nails that curled in at the tips, at Damien, who was now kneeling in front of Faolán. He was attempting to enter his plane of sight, but his eyes turned inside of his eyelids. He resembled a burning strand of hair.
Daelan held an axe with both hands in front of his pelvis.
"I will keep this one." She said as she lifted Faolán's body with one hand while the other kept a grasp of Stolas.
The ground Crumbled and trees were swallowed by the land they were on. The woman slowly released Faolán's body.
"I understand, you are all powerful, but you are wrong to show hostility towards me. You simply have no chance of survival against me. If you have not been thought that lesson, I will gladly do so."
She released stolas, allowing him to fall on his knees. She smirked. Her hands seemed to grope a bag.
"Take a guess, which one of you is the owner of what I'm holding right now. I'll give you a hint, its beating real fast."
Harriet felt his chest tighten.
"Cirrus..." He said under his breath.
"Go on, swinging your axe, show me what you can do."
They only stared at her, for the first time Cirrus seemd to be on the same page as them. His fear for death was overwhelming to all. As if they were allowed on a secret, they were frail, inside a paper bag that had just turned clear plastic.
"Beautiful, now you get it." She loosened her grip on the hand that caressed Harriet's heart.
The sun continued to hide behind the hill. they remained silent unwilling to make a movement. Stolas lifted his face as if she had called his name.
"How precious". She said to him with disgust. She turned her body away from them and began walking towards the dark. "Don't be too afraid of the dark". She mumbled.
She disappeared behind the trees and the air finally became breathable. Faolán seemed unconscious but his heart allowed a hint of salvation, for him and for Cirrus who could not shake the shame away. So much for the man that convinced a bunch of children into a witch hunt with the words; "At the end you do not have to worry because whatever happens, I will protect you".
Morgan rested on Harriet's lap, Faolán two feet away from them and the rest remained silent. Stolas watched the wood burn, sitting across it with both knees under his chin.
"What was that?" Harriet asked Stolas.
"Don't know". He stood up and walked into the tall grass downhill.
By the river rocks were Cirrus and Morant were. Cirrus was seated on a rock while Morant continues to walk around him. Visually neurotic as it was usual but unusually shaky.
"You can be proud of what you gather is true friendship and of whatever you consider is loyalty. You can swear all you want you could give up your life for any of us but that doesn't give you the right to decide it should be mutual. Some of us have much different priorities, and I'm not willing to die here, not for you, not for them, not for a bigger cause, because at the end of the day, I can't expect you to care about my family."
"You have to understand, I would never--"
"You don't understand, they are not your unsinkable ship or your safe place, they are someone's endearing kid, you can't reduce them to brave scouts."
Stolas remained hidden under the pasture, feeling his guts clench with guilt.
"Guys! Faolan woke up!"
Cirrus wiped tears away and walked along Morant up the cliff.
Faolán seemed excited to say something.
"I got it! I didn't really get too much from the trees. Although I confirmed Damien was right. They are fairly intelligent, enough to recognize a threat, or their characteristics. But what I'm really excited to explain is on a different subject. I was curious on whether the boy Cirrus had knocked out was purely a puppet. But he was nothing of that sort, instead you have to imagine a situation in which you could manipulate a creation as if they were a puppet. He was brainwashed into submission. Not only that but he was attached to her by some sort of veil that was so manipulable that I literally changed its direction to me."
He smiled widely while showing the palms of his hands. The veil wrapped around his hand like a bandage. Faolán looked at Cirrus with pride, He looked back at him terrified.