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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Unicorn Quests - 38. Chapter 38

Wenn’s touch was soft, and I could feel it, but I’d lost control over my body. It was like I was slowly draining away, and someone—Balasamar—was taking it. He was inside me, he was me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

‘No!’ I screamed in my head. ‘Londe!’

But my mate didn’t respond. Could he even hear me? I couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t reach out mentally.

It was all I could focus on.

My family. I kept trying, over and over, but I kept failing. Why did I keep failing?

That tailspin had me consumed until another wail of no joined the cries in my head. Our eyes were locked onto Wenn, and he was grimly focused on us.

His hand still touched us softly, but his expression held none of the weariness and pain that showed in the lines grooving his mouth and bracketing his eyes. I read nothing but intent.

Anger.

“And the endless betrayer will finally get what he deserves,” Wenn hissed.

That was not his voice either. No, the locus was a conduit, I suddenly realized. Not just for Balasamar, but for the wizard who’d tried to use his magic on us but failed when Wenn stopped him.

When Balasamar abandoned him to die in favor of another plan.

The shriek in my head rose to a fever pitch as mine faded, but then Wenn’s hand began to shake. He gasped and drips of dark blood began to leak from the corners of his eyes, not bright like fresh, but dark and thick, like old blood that had oozed from a wound and sat for hours to darken with the body’s decay.

Our tiny tableau was nearly upset when Tinn sank beside us. “Stop, Wenn, stop! You can’t do this.”

Wenn didn’t look away. “I must,” he said in his own voice, strain evident. “He won’t let it happen any other way.”

I couldn’t speak, couldn’t ask what they meant, but I was afraid I knew. Increment by tiny increment, I gained a foothold within my body, my soul sinking into my frame where it’d been pushed out.

The invader was leaving or being removed. I tried to step away when Wenn choked and more blood pooled from his lips to drip down his chin and stain his fluffy fur. His fingers dug in.

“Don’t. Stay.” He gazed into my eyes, and I met his look. Just me. Almost alone. “It has to end,” he said, garbled.

There was a rip from inside me, a final, faded scream, and then a lightening, like a burden I hadn’t realized was weighing me down was cast aside.

Wenn’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he dropped to the ground. The blood poured out of him, black, dark, like that magical shadowed ooze, but all too real this time.

He gasped, claws digging into the ground as his body seized, and then he went still.

Tinn cried out, weeping, rocking in a ball beside his friend as I knelt beside them. Shock held me for a moment, but then my mate and foals rushed to my side, nuzzling me.

Londe’s voice was back in my head, his love and devotion bright and clear. The foals both butted up against me, rubbing their cheeks and chin against my withers. But I could not celebrate my escape from living death.

I couldn’t celebrate the defeat of Balasamar and his wizard.

After all, I hadn’t defeated them. They’d nearly taken me. Wenn had faced them both down and won, but he lost his life to do so. To save me.

“He was protecting us all,” Tinn said, his voice broken with his sobs. “He is a hero.”

Maybe in time I could see how he was saving everyone; a unicorn with a soul as dark as Balasamar’s loose on the world would have been a catastrophe. But it felt like a much greater sacrifice for a smaller reward—my freedom and life with my family.

“He honored me,” was all I could say.

 

Hours later, Tinn agreed to move from the hollow. It wasn’t a place we wanted to stay with darkness coming soon, not with all the spirits and conduit powers used that could draw Beings from far and wide.

I knelt in the dirt again, and Tinn and I carefully maneuvered Wenn’s limp body onto my back. Tinn rode on Londe, and the foals stayed between us, exhaustion wearing us all down into silence.

How could I repay what Wenn had done? The price the locus had paid using his gift to save me?

I wasn’t sure, but I would come up with something. My honor demanded it.

 

As long as the skies above brightened our path, we walked. Never fast, never rushing, but we put distance between us and that place of death—both the tree and our original battle site. The foals were stumbling and quickly began to snore the moment I indicated they should lay down in the center of a wide meadow.

I wanted visibility. There was nowhere near to hide, so the best I could come up with was a lot of distance to see anyone stalking us.

Tinn helped me with Wenn. “I wish we had something to cover him,” I said. My old cloak would have sufficed, even. Not that I had that anymore.

“He will go back to the elements with a ceremony among our people. Why close him away from those now?”

I flicked my tail, thinking it over. “I-I don’t know. A human notion I picked up, I guess.” Or more like his bloody face and open, staring eyes freaked me out and would keep me from sleeping. “I’ll take first watch.” Maybe it was a good thing.

Copyright © 2019 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Never underestimate the little guys. The locus said upfront they weren't very good fighters, but their skills and bravery are nonpareil. Without them, they all would have perished. Wenn knew the price he was paying, but he didn't falter. Chasen wants to pay back this sacrifice and I hope he finds a way.

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Great chapter. So much power in such a small package. I hope Wenn’s son can bring him back to life.

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