Excalibur's Seven | ✓ [LGBT]

~ 29 ~

THE DRUID COULD FEEL the buzz of the shard through their satchel as it rested against their leg. It was a buzz unlike any other they'd felt, and they hadn't been able to ignore it since they got out of the freezing cold and rush of adrenaline. They didn't know why the others hadn't made much of a note of their own, but perhaps they were less attuned to magic than Chalice.

They knew the boy was something similar when they felt the same familiar buzz coming from his aura. It didn't make sense as to why his entire being felt the same, so they didn't come to the conclusion until everyone else made the same realization, and they figured it wasn't so crazy after all.

It was curious, how did a shard manage to become a living child? The maid had more to do with all of this than they'd understood before, and she was quickly becoming a necessary puzzle piece. The puzzle would have to be solved later, though, because it was time to go back for Morgana and the final shards.

Kit was moving faster than anyone else, a rabid determination in his amber eyes as he helped everyone pack and prepare once more for the journey. The tone among them was serious, like they knew they could be walking towards their deaths, and potentially the death of the entire kingdom.

It was a heavy thought, one Chalice tried to avoid until now. There was no escaping it anymore--the lives of thousands, possibly millions, lay in their hands. If something goes wrong, the whole kingdom pays the price.

A pit of dread settled at the base of their stomach.

The sky was dark when they began their journey. Kit paid the woman his thanks, a lump of money he surely didn't think he'd ever use again, and they took their horses and carried on into the night.

Eurion and Chalice took up the rear, staying several feet away from all the others.

"Are your hands okay?" she asked, breaking the silence with a voice of concern.

Truthfully, their hands and wrists had been screaming since the mountain. They nearly snapped their wrists catching that statue's arm, and they paid no mind to the state of their hands as they dug the sharp scrap of metal from the stone. They did the same retrieving the shard from the Unseelie woods, cutting up their palms to get it out.

"They're alright," the druid said, clenching the reigns tighter. Now that the pain was at the forefront of their mind, though, they accepted how bad they really were.

Eurion didn't buy it, either. "Let me see."

They sighed and lifted one hand from the reigns, exposing their dirty, lacerated palms in the bright moonlight. It wasn't very good light but it was enough for Eurion to look at Chalice in disbelief.

"You've got to get those cleaned up and bandaged, they're gonna get infected."

"I'll be fine until we get Excalibur. We can worry about my hands when we have it."

The thief let out a sigh. "You'll be weaker if you're infected, and I feel like hands are pretty important in a fight."

"I don't fight with my hands, I fight with my brain," they replied.

"That might not be how this turns out, Chalice," she insisted. "We're going against a whole army, and we're down one very powerful man. You might need to pick up a sword."

"I'd do better with a melee."

"Either way, Chalice, we need to get you patched up when we stop or you'll be weakened. You're one of our most important, we can't afford to lose you."

Chalice went quiet. They knew each one held value, but they didn't think themself any more important than Eurion or the others. Selene was their best soldier, Giselle, clever and powerful. Lionel could sing whole armies to sleep and Morgana had more to him than he wanted to let on.