No. Oh, no no no.

The lizard thing whimpers, a sound something that mean and ugly should never make. The man screams. Screams that imbed themselves so deeply into my mind I know I will never forget it.

I twist the knife deeper, hopefully pricking its brain, and it seizes once.

It goes limp, falling onto its side, taking me and the knight with it. The knight screams again, a blood-curdling sound that makes my heart hurt. This is the reason I hate bringing help. I’d rather work alone.

I try to pry the jaws from the man’s shoulder, but he stops my grasping hands with a hand on my shoulder.

“I don’t feel the pain quite so much, not any longer,” he says weakly.

His kind brown eyes regard my masked face with wonder. “Always dreamed of fighting with the masked warrior who saved my daughter. Now I can say I saved her.”

I choke down a sob. “I'd be dead without you, sir. Thank you,” I whisper. I reach shaking hands to the ties of my mask, taking it from my face. I want this stranger who saved my life to see my face. It’s the least I can do for him. Red streaks come from his shoulder, the poison working its way to his heart.

He touches my bare, tear streaked cheek with a bloodstained hand. “Thank you for... honoring me, Guardian. You are younger than I... expected.” I gently squeeze his hand that’s on my cheek.

“Do you know The Phoenix and The King, my friend?” I ask softly as he lets the hand flop into his bloody chest. I’ve been around long enough to know what death looks like.

A wheezing chuckle escapes him, ending when he coughs. A wince crosses his features. “Yes, indeed. He’s... a close friend.”

I smile, a trembly thing that costs me dearly.

He smiles back, peace creasing his wrinkles. “Don’t mourn for me, wolf-heart. I’ve lived a full life... been on many... adventures. Just please, tell my Jane I love her. Tell my family... I love them. But I know where... I’m... going, and I’ll see them again. I’ll be... waiting.” The words strike a chord in my heart, ringing it like a bell.

“I will sir, you have my word. And I will tell them what a hero you are.”

His peace filled eyes crinkle deeper as he smiles.

His hand goes limp, and his eyes... they see no more.

I tie my mask back on with trembling, jerky fingers. More from habit than anything else. I’m past thought. Pushed beyond the brink of what I can handle.

Rage eclipses me, and I turn on the monster that did this. My fists make angry throbs as I drill the head with my hands. I pull out another knife and shove it into the unseeing eye that’s left. I twist it with a strangled yell, relishing in the pain from my bruised ribs and hands, the warm blood gushing over my hand and down my arm, the stench filling my nostrils and coating my tongue.

Then a person parries my next strike at the thing's head. I see a flash of compassionate silver eyes before I’m lifted off my feet from behind.

I yell and kick back, but the person dodges it. I twist my knife to stab into the ribs of the person behind me, but the assassin in front of me grabs my wrist in a surprisingly gentle, if unbreakable, grasp.

“Easy, it’s us,” Sir Hans whispers quietly into my ear.

I nod, and he lets me go. I shove my knife back into its holster, covered in this thing’s blood. Normally, it would drive me nuts for someone to be so flippant with their blades, but I’m past that. I turn to the trees, to their deep black embrace that... it looks nothing like what I'm used to. It doesn't hold the warmth it used to. But still, I reach the shadowed embrace and let it embalm my soul in numbness.

I look back. It’s just a small, almost non-existent path through the forest. This is where a man lost his life saving mine, and a monster died a worthy death beside a hero who should still be breathing.

The knights stand in a circle around the man and monster, watching me go with varying expressions I don’t care to make out.

Someone in the woods opposite me calls out, and a few men bring out a young woman, broken and bleeding, but her chest moves in and out at a steady pace.

Sir Robin rushes to the girl, going to his knees. He looks up, a relieved little smile on his face, and gives a nod to Sir Hans.

It soothes some of the ache in my heart.

Then I leave.

~~~

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I slink through the trees. No thought as to where. Just going. In the back of my mind, I know I’ll need to get back to tell his family what his last words were.

But first... but first what? An innocent man died because of me. He saved my life. Why did he have to do that?

I punch a passing tree, and the sting reminds me of my palm. I look down to find it still oozing blood from the monster’s scale, mixing with the drying black blood of the ugly monster.

That’s all it takes for the rest of my aches and pains to catch up. I wince as I come down off the adrenaline high.

“What did that tree ever do to you?” I start at the soft, teasing voice.

I pull a knife with my bloodied hand, wincing as I squeeze it against my oozing skin.

“Oh, it’s you,” I say, my voice devoid of emotion.

He chuckles from where he’s hanging on a branch. The man is about six feet up, one leg dangling, and his arm rests casually against the other knee that is propped up against the bark. He’s a deep black shadow just relaxing on the thick branch. But despite that, I get the hint of a cat on the prowl, ready to pounce should the need arise. “No need to sound so disappointed, mea tigris. Sir Hans wanted someone to check on you. For some reason, he concluded I would be the least likely to get stabbed.”

I huff a sarcastic breath. “Because you have such a lovely personality?”

I see teeth beneath the hood. “Most call me charming.”

I sink down into the dewy grass, somehow at ease with this dangerous man in ways I didn’t know were possible. I can’t let my guard down… yet—I do.

My shoulders slump, and I bend my head until they rest on my knees. I know nothing will get past him. I can afford to let him have the pressure for a moment. But just for a moment.

“It wasn’t your fault.” The voice coming from directly in front of me makes my heart skip a beat in my chest. And not in a good way.

I jerk the knife that is still somehow in my hand and stab forward, not even consciously. My body has been through too much, I suppose. It just reacts to threats on its own now.

He sidesteps and catches my wrist, gently trying to pry the blade from my white fingers. “Easy. I’m sorry. It wasn’t right of me to scare you. Please, just let go. I’m not going to harm you,” he says gently, as if to a wild animal.

I release the knife, partly in surprise, partly obeying a voice of reason in the midst of a dangerous fog. One doesn’t get to live and see the next day in my life if you can’t think clearly. A sarcastic voice, that sounds suspiciously like my wolf, says I haven’t been thinking clearly for a while now.

When the knife drops, he looks at the red glistening hilt in the scant moonlight, then back to my palm. “You’re hurt,” he says in a gruff voice.

He takes my hand, and opens my listless fingers to find the cut. He grunts, and the feel of his callused hands does something to my heart, something I can’t admit, nor do I care to think on too deeply.

He takes a knife from under his cloak, and my heart starts to thump in fear instead of that irrational attraction. Fear is better. Easier to stay alive with fear.

His silver eyes snap up to my face, and something he sees there makes his eyes soften. I try to pull away, but he holds my hand with a gentle grasp I can’t escape. He drops the knife, takes my other hand, and drops down to a crouch before me so he doesn’t tower above me.

“I will do nothing to hurt you, sweet one. If you believe nothing else I say, believe my intentions here. I will protect you when you cannot protect yourself. When you are weak because you just took on a monster out of legend by yourself.” He casts a wry glance back in the direction we came from, then looks back at me with a piercing gaze that gets through my defenses and sees my weak and trembling heart. “Let me be your rock, just until you are strong enough to stand beside me once more.”

I pull back and he lets me go. He even steps back to give me space. But I—all I see is kind brown eyes and blood. So much blood.

My Gift flares, catching shifting emotions... it grows from hurt, to an ache, to a determination. His emotions become my own.

Compassion coats his internal matrix, along with a deep fear. A fear of... failure, maybe? I delve deeper, feeling numbness coat me the longer I explore this gift, and I almost welcome the absence of pain.

The deeper I get into this golden tinged with silvery thread... the less it makes sense. He hopes. And he fears. But his hope is greater. There is also an underlying confusion, and a... is that empathy in a normal person? It almost feels as if he feels my pain and vice versa, but in a very one dimensional way. He's lost someone, too, and he knows what I'm feeling and wants to help. But... there's a sense of helplessness. Is there actually a kind person beneath the snark?

There is often kindness behind cynicism, rider. It's only hidden because we've been hurt.

There is so much truth to that. My girl can be wise when she wants to be.

I pull back from the dark and light world of my Gift. That was... easier. It wasn't so hard to delve into... and I actually controlled it! I directed it where I wanted it to go and it did!

If I weren't so numb, I'd be hopping up and down inside in excitement.

Instead, I cling to a soft silken shirt with all the strength I have left. I know he will protect me to the best of his ability thanks to my Gift. But will he protect me from himself? Can he?

Right now, that doesn’t matter as much as it should. I burry my head into his cloak, allowing his soothing scent of man, knife oil, and, interestingly enough, citrus to roll over me and ease my numb soul.

When did this man come to hold me? Numbness makes it easier to ignore the typical mortification such a thought would bring.

My hands feel weird and tingly, but not quite as much as they did when I delved the city looking for my family.

And pain comes with the thought despite the numbness... because one man will not be coming home this night. His family has no hope, whereas I do. My family is alive, at least for now. And that makes me pause.

Life is a fickle mistress with us fragile creatures. It takes little for souls to be torn from this world.

Determination burns in my heart.

That knight lived a life without regrets. He loved his family to his last breath, his affection and devotion plain in his eyes.

I have too many regrets, and now it's time for me to face what I need to do.

I'm done waiting. It's time for me to act, come what may.

My past mistakes won't define me. Moving forward... I will choose. And I choose my family over my fear that I might fail them again.

I was reckless and almost got myself killed tonight. My family needs me, and I'm running around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to ignore my problems. Just like I did with the Spark.

Only by facing my monsters will I defeat them.

I raise my eyes to the east. Out there, on the other side of the library spire and north of the large arena, is my family. Protect them, my King, until I get there. I'm coming.