Warning: Self-harm

There looked to be about a half dozen guards scattered about the fields to the western side of town. And while they shouted to each other, it was distanced, blocked, muffled by the thunderous buzz looming over his mind. Mouse’s legs crawled, dragged under soaked sand, though when he looked down, nothing hindered him.

His breath waned, gurgled out through bubbles in water, drowning him despite running on dry land. Someone ran in front of him, yelling, but the voice held nothing. The buzz flooded him, dragging him down beneath the waves that didn’t exist.

Taiga was beside him now, saying something to the man and making him leave. Taiga spoke to him in thunders he couldn’t interpret. Mouse saw the concern in his furrowed brow, his eyes looking him over. He said something again, and when Mouse replied, the words escaped him through bubbles, replaced with the weight of water in his throat.

It swelled, bursting from the seams of Mouse’s skin and dripping down his neck. Mouse pushed his fingers into the holes, tearing into them. His nails bit into the skin and refused to let go, scraping it down. And the water spilled from his ripped flesh. He tried to breathe, but the water pounded further down his throat. It drained through him, slipping out through the rips in his throat, and back through his mouth to drown him again.

He dug into the meat of his neck, yanking it apart and letting more water fall from it. Taiga grabbed his arms, yelling at him, but his words were bubbles, popping in the endless water Mouse fought from succumbing to. He thrashed from Taiga, but he held steady.

Why? Why would Taiga drown him?

Mouse refused. He pulled away from him, crying to Taiga to stop killing him. He wrangled free as Taiga’s fingers slipped in the water, and stumbled away from him.

What Taiga was wet with, though, was not water. But red. Blood soaked his fingers, even as Taiga came at him again. But no wounds bled from him. Taiga clamped his hands over Mouse’s ears, drawing his face close to his own. He breathed as Mouse choked.

Steadying his eyes, Taiga mouthed the word, “stop.”

The blood dripped from Taiga’s hand, and down Mouse’s face. How could blood drip when he was submerged in water? He panicked, wiping the water off him and realizing he too, had blood on him.

Taiga’s hands tightened, and refocused Mouse’s eyes back to his, “calm down,” he mouthed.

Why? Why would he be calm?

He couldn’t breathe, and he didn’t know where the blood came from and—

“Calm down,” Taiga mouthed again. Mouse closed his eyes, and fear prickled over him. But the longer he closed them, the more the water dripped from him. He swallowed his breath, though desperate to breathe. Taiga’s hands held over his ears, warm, melting away the water from him. It drained through the holes in this throat. And although he feared drowning more, he took a breath in. And as he did, he freed himself from the sand sinking him and the water dragging him closer to death.

“Calm down.” The words reached his ears, and he opened his eyes. Taiga watched him, eyes dark and steady. The buzz still held steady, and Mouse waded in its depths, but he breathed again.

“I got it,” Mouse managed, and realized where the blood came from. His throat stung with every word he spoke. He touched it gently, feeling the wounds. They weren’t severe, and while the tender flesh contorted around jagged rips he’d made, they were shallow enough. His skin already began weaving itself back together.

Taiga held, but after a few more seconds, let go. He relaxed, and Taiga’s eyes fluttered shut a few times. “Good.”

Mouse stepped back, mist flowing between his legs. Around them, a few collapsed villagers littered the field, but the knights and guards seemed to have retreated at some point. “How long—” his voice broke, raw and numb.

“They fled about five minutes ago. Several demons made it to the town, so they’re working on securing it and getting villagers evacuated.”

His mind wandered back to the water, the sand consuming him, the inescapable death… “They drowned.”

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“What?” Taiga pulled a cloth from his pack, and wrapped it around Mouse’s neck. It stung for only a moment.

“The guardian. I think it drowned.”

Taiga blinked at him, “They spoke to you again?”

“Yeah.” It didn’t make sense. From Mouse’s memories, they shouldn’t be capable of drowning in water. He closed his eyes, the buzz swimming around the water he waded in. He opened his eyes, and the swirl of corruption streamed around them, slow moving, like a sludge. Taiga must’ve been numb by now. But nonetheless, he tied the cloth around his neck. “I think it drowned in corruption.”

Taiga paused before releasing him. “So the scholar woman was right. There is an imbalance. I don’t understand. The land here is balanced.” He paused, “well, it was.”

A wave washed over Mouse, water streaming against him into a river. He turned, and the buzz gurgled into foam around him. It stung where it clung, sizzling even though he knew nothing was there.

“It’s coming,” he pushed through the waters, Taiga beside him, as a rush of corrupted fog flooded around them.

He struggled against the wave, pushing his feet down to keep himself stable. Taiga flinched in the corruption. How much longer could Taiga hold out? From deep in the mist, a shadow loomed. Its stomps rumbled the ground, a breath heavy with taint bellowed towards them.

Taiga pulled out his wooden sword, his back arched, stance widened. The water slowed Mouse as he pulled a foot back, steadying himself. His own sword in hand, drenched and sopping between his fingers. The sword’s burnt edges looked ready to crack with a single strike. But he’d have to make due, for death was the only other outcome.

He caught Taiga stealing a glance at him before he stepped a couple meters in front of him. “What are you doing?” Mouse snapped, though even his exhaustion nipped his words.

“You’re pale and shaking,” Taiga replied calmly, though Mouse doubted how calm he actually felt. “And you’re injured.”

“I’m fine.” His voice gave away his lie. He looked down at himself, the water risen to his thighs.

“Are you?” Taiga didn’t wait for an answer.

From the mist, a roar reverberated, shivering even the tall grasses in the field. A quilled tail marked in the colors of a sunset slithered from the fog, between the grasses. Taiga leapt away from it, and Mouse followed with his sword raised.

But he slogged through the water, and the tail, unhindered, struck at him, a snake in nature, and quills struck his flesh. Acid sizzled his leg, and Mouse let out a scream, gurgled through water again. He jerked away, but his strength failed him.

Taiga pounced on the tail, slamming his sword’s point through the thick of it. It recoiled, splitting around the wood. The quills shimmied into two separated tails. They arched back, and before Taiga could react, they launched at Mouse.

He jumped away, but he slowed in the water, and the tails reached him without fail. Each wrapped around his ankles, and in an instant, he was yanked from his feet, and dragged past Taiga. Mouse wrested a leg free, thrashing against the quills, despite the pain. The tails joined together around his captured leg, strengthened. Free from the water, he pulled up to the tail holding his leg, and sunk his teeth between the scales and fur.

Cracks of the quills muffled the roar of the beast only slightly, its thunder shattering his focus. Mouse’s eyes blurred, and he squeezed them shut, clenching his teeth harder around the beast’s flesh.

It thrashed, whipping its tail at a dizzying speed, and pounding Mouse into a stone building. The stone crumbled from the impact, and his body jolted against it. His strength fled him, his vision red before darkening. As his mind blanked, the tail jerked him out, whipping his body into the air and suspending him there.

Mouse begged his eyes to open, and they slitted at his request. Blurry though his vision remained, the mask of the beast hovered less than a meter from him, motionless. It’s eyes of void peering through him. Pink ooze dripped over the edges of its eyeholes.

It cried, though Guardians were incapable.

Hunched back, it let out a scream, booming past him as he dangled in its grasp. Wet dripped from Mouse’s face to his swinging arms. The beast held him tight, hung from his leg and without mercy. He urged his limp arms to his call, but they refused to answer.

The beast cocked its head at him, swiveling back and forth, around him. Below him, mist swirled and plumed from the once Guardian. If he could get his leg free, could he survive the five or so meter drop? With his mangled limbs? Every breath he took tore at his lungs, and the taste of blood dripped between his teeth. His body ached, sleep draped over it, and he fought just to keep his mind focused for even one more second.

His eyelids closed. But as they did, the beast let out a snarled cry, and the tail whipped him around, letting go, and he fell to the ground, caught gently by the grasses of the field. They slowed him, letting him tumble gracefully across them and stop upon a pillow of reeds.

Mouse forced his eyes open, searching for the beast. It thrashed in the haze of corruption. Its feathers ruffled and jerked out of place, it tripped over itself before slamming its masked face against the ground. Again and again, it smashed. But it let out another cry, and wringed its neck upward.

Taiga stood atop it, one foot wedged between its fur and mask, and the other balanced on the side of the mask. He pulled his sword out from between the mask and beast, before ramming it back down. The beast’s cry curled Mouse’s ears, but Taiga didn’t flinch. He yanked the sword to the side, prying the mask from the beast. Steam escaped the opening chasm.

The beast recoiled, using its tail to swipe over its face, and knocking Taiga off. He plummeted to the ground, but before he made impact, the tail came down upon him, quills furled, and impaled Taiga through the stomach.