It had its arms around Hiya, gazing down at her through ghastly silver eyes. Gigantic wings spread out behind it – an argent blaze against the darkness of the night – arching upward and away from its body. Twin red marks – identical to the ones on Reivaa – stained the tips of the outstretched pinions like a bloodstained halo surrounding the familiar face.
Through the haze of pain, fear and blood-loss, Ruban watched – his heart beating a horrified cadence against his abused ribs – as the abomination that had been his companion – his friend – reached out towards Hiya and pulled the terrified, cowering girl into its arms. It was almost gentle, the way it touched her; almost the way Reivaa had been. Hiya’s sobs quieted, subsiding into little hiccups as the creature that had been Ashwin rocked her in its arms, whispering in her ears. Had it not been for the grotesque, inhuman whiteness of the eyes that looked hungrily down at her, the misshapen arch of unearthly wings, Ruban might even have believed that Ashwin was soothing the miserable child, comforting her.
As it was, all he saw was Hiya’s wrenching sobs fade into petrified little whimpers as the creature – the Aeriel – held her hostage in its arms, predatory wings surrounding the child like a huntsman’s cage closing down around his prey.
Ruban blinked, trying to clear the crimson haze that seemed to have descended upon his vision, tinging the world a bloody red. Blinded – partly by the darkness of the deserted night and partly by the fog of agony that clouded his mind – Ruban half crawled, half dragged himself across the clearing to the spot where Reivaa had stood before she flew at Hiya moments ago, although it seemed to him like it had been ages. Grasping unseeingly in the dark, his hands roving through dead leaves and dust, Ruban finally found what he was looking for. His fingers brushed against the cold metal of the discarded sifblade.
Like an addict starved of his poison, Ruban clutched at the carved handle of the blade, feeling some clarity seep back into his addled thoughts. He had not realised how much he’d missed the reassuring weight of the blade at his side until it was back in his hands, where it belonged.
Stifling the cry of agony that sprung to his lips at the movement, Ruban dragged himself to his feet, stumbling momentarily before he found his footing on the uneven forest floor. Gripping the sifblade like a lifeline in his trembling hand, Ruban advanced towards the Aeriel – he could not bring himself to call this monster Ashwin, which was probably not its real name anyway – as quietly as possible. He bit viciously down on his tongue to keep himself from crying out as the movement exacerbated the pain in his wounded leg.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Ruban had long since lost track of time, and hours or minutes could have passed by the time he finally reached the creature holding Hiya captive. The thing was standing up, turning around. Its arms snaked around the girl in a vice-like grip.
Through the blood-red haze, Ruban smiled – a caustic thing devoid of all humour, all life. The creature will watch, helpless, as he killed it, as he avenged his father, his Miki. Ruban would watch the life drain from those hideous, pearly pits as he drove his blade into the Aeriel, snatching Hiya back from its monstrous clutches.
He raised his hand above his head, his fingers clutching the sifblade which glinted in the moonlight, just as the Aeriel turned all the way around to face him. Its eyes widened as they registered the Hunter, saw the weapon in his hand. It took a step back, hitting the tree behind it as it turned its body sideways, holding Hiya away from Ruban.
He would have gone for the heart, skewered the sifblade straight into the creature’s breast and watched the life seep out of its eyes like blood from a wound. But the Aeriel still held Hiya in its arms, its torso shielded by the child curled up against it like a lifeless ragdoll.
So Ruban did the next best thing. After all, it was Ashwin himself who had given him that bit of advice. It seemed fitting, in a way, to obey his instruction this one last time.
Pulling his hand back as far as it would go, he drove the blade forward through the air and buried it hilt-deep into the Aeriel’s outstretched wing, then dragged it down viciously through mangled feathers and torn muscle until it came out the other end. Light poured from the wound, momentarily blinding Ruban as bits of ripped flesh and torn feathers stained his blade and his clothes.
The Aeriel screamed, a blood-curdling cry of pure agony, as its legs buckled and it collapsed to the ground, Hiya still clutched tightly against its body like a shield, or a lifeline. Ruban stepped onto the injured wing – now twisted awkwardly against the floor – and drove his heel into it even as he raised his hand to hack at the other appendage. He would not stop until Hiya was back safely in his arms. Then, perhaps, he would make it a quick end.
“Baan! Stop!” Hiya’s shrill voice rent the air, permeating his senses and forcing him to stop in his tracks, as the girl jumped out of the Aeriel’s slackened grip and stood in front of him, shielding the creature with her body. “What are you doing?” she gasped, clutching at his leg and pushing with all her might, trying to drive him back. “It’s Ashwin. He saved me, didn’t you see? Stop it!”