Egaran Stars - 67. Reinard- Night Terror

Reinard scurried across the street, a joyful bounce to his steps. He felt good, normal, like a Faro who could conquer the world. Nothing could happen to him; he would show his segal they were safe, they didn’t have to fear the demons of the past. Things were changing; they could be free.

A sudden bang brought it all crashing down again. Pain shot through his body, blood splattering everywhere as fiery metal rained from the sky. Everything was wrong, Reinard had never hurt like this before. He was wrong, and he was suffering for it. Every motion made the lacerations in his body grow, the fox crying out as agony filled him.

Segal would know how to fix this; he could fix anything. The fox’s eyes closed in on a dumpster, crawling toward the only safe place his mind would accept. He had hidden here before, he was safe here, and no one could touch him.

Until hands grabbed the Faro’s shoulders, pulling him away from the shelter. He screamed in pain, blood rushing out of several gashes in his body as he fought the vicious grip. An arm broke free, and Reinard reacted instantly, his dagger sliding off his legs and slashing blindly upward.

The hands withdrew, a startled gasp rising above his head.

And then the screaming started.

His eyes fought against the dark, opening as his mind registered the agonizing yell of a man. A moment later, he realized it was Ryan.

A light turned on to reveal blood and gore trailing down the human’s face as he held his hands over his left eye.

“Stars above!”

Themis was suddenly standing between them, carefully lowering Ryan to the ground as the man screamed his agony to the world. His blood dripped slowly from the dagger in Reinard’s hand, the Faro’s mind trying frantically to reconcile his nightmare with the new terror sitting before him. Was he dreaming? He must be, but this was a new night terror, one he had never had before, and he felt dizzy, a sense of vertigo threatening to claim him as he wondered, where had this come from?

The stench hit him suddenly, the sickly smell of blood mixing with the scent of terror, piss staining the bed under him as he fought the world around him, trying to escape this new nightmare. He couldn’t let it claim him, he wouldn’t let it claim him.

“What are you doing? Get the phone, we need a boat out here!” Themis yelled at him, the Faro flinching, frozen in place.

The knife slipped from his grasp, clattering on the tile floor. It was like glass shattering, the sound digging through his haze as Reinard forced his legs to move. The fox stumbled from the room, trying to figure out where the phone would be.

This… this wasn’t a dream…

“Oh Golaski…”

He whimpered at the realization, falling against a wall with a thump as bloodstained hands rose before him, the sticky substance shimmering in his eyes as his breath quickened into panic. He had cut Ryan, had taken the human’s eye.

Feet rushed past him, an Egaro not waiting any longer. Themis’ voice filled his ears, the meaning of the words vanishing as his mind faltered. Darkness encroached, the Faro curling up into a ball as he was tortured, the feeling of resistance in his hand as he made the cut an unending memory that forced him to relive the moment over and over.

There was no way out of this. He had fucked up again. How many times had they told him he didn’t need to be armed, that no one would harm him? And now Reinard was the one hurting people. It was an agony he couldn’t bear.

He didn’t know how long he sat like that, dead to the bodies that rushed past, the medics that tried to undo what he had done. The world continued, yet for Reinard, everything had stopped. It wasn’t as bad as when he had lost his segal, but at the same time, it was worse. He had attacked a friend, had hurt someone who only wanted to help him.

“Come on…” a voice whispered soothingly, a heavy blanket falling over his shoulders.

Suddenly the Faro was being lifted, strong grey arms setting him on a floating gurney.

“I’m sorry…” he whimpered, his eyes looking at the Xanar blindly as he was taken out into a storming night.

Rain pelted him, the blanket soaking through by the time they reached the boat. He was pushed inside, out of the chill of the monsoon as an Egaro took over.

“Reinard. I need you to take a deep breath for me,” the Egaro said gently, her hand pressing firmly into the Faro’s wrist.

He couldn’t. All Reinard could do was feel the world closing in around him, his eyes rolling back as he sobbed.

“Please… I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do it…”

“I know. I need you to inhale. Come on, one deep breath for me.”

He gulped for air, the effort expanding his chest painfully as the Egaro held his wrist carefully.

“And exhale, slowly.”

The tiger demonstrated, the fox slowly breathing out with her. His head felt heavy, the fox fighting a wave of exhaustion as his body caught up with the adrenaline rushing through him.

“And again. Inhale.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

“Shh, just breathing. Everything is under control,” the Egaro soothed, a small pinch sending icy liquid into Reinard’s veins. “I need you to take a break. Everything will be better when you wake up.”

He followed the order, staring blindly up at the ceiling. The storm lashed the seas around them, the gurney floating securely in place, undisturbed by the weather. A safe place for him, no one could hurt him here, and he could hurt no one here.

One breath in, holding it, waiting for the tiger to allow him to exhale. And another, inhale, exhale, as his mind drifted away once more.