Crossblood - Completed

Chapter 49

Blood is drawn, the first man is slain in seconds, his body ripped between the claws of a tiger and thrown into the crowd. Another cries out, his words mixed with the blood forcing itself out of his throat, his screams drowning themselves until they're washed away completely.

We haven't left our spot on the far side of the field, Kaiien wrapped close to me, face buried in my neck with tears flowing down my collarbone and peeking into my shirt, his chest heaving as another man cries out, another growl erupts from the crowd and blood splatters on surrounding men.

Ezra was right.

Powerful but corrupt.

The once white ground has been dyed a sickly pink and deep red, their blood spilling from their bodies and bubbling onto other's. The sight is repulsive, Kaiien's cries only worsening as he shuts his hands over his ears, burrowing deeper into my neck and crying with more force than before.

My eyes meet with Ezra's across the field, he nods slightly, and in moments is at my side, hands grabbing Kai by his slim waist and hauling him over his shoulder. We don't say anything to each other, only exchange a nod and go our separate ways, both of us running into the woods as quick as we can get away with.

My eyes meet a ledge overlooking the field and I mentally chart out a path to get to it. From there I can make sure Kai and Ezra have made it as well as spot out any family members from opposing troops. The sun beats down on us harder, the stench of evaporating blood thick in the air and the sound of slushing blood and melted ice isn't satisfactory.

Pushing through the thicket I leave my cloak behind, the shade of the trees enough of a cover from anyone looking for me, if anything the cloak would only give me away.

Climbing over a tall rock the stoney ledge is visible, limestone swirled in here and there as I rest flat against the cool and wet rock, head peeking out between the overlapping leaves of two bushes, fruit and blossoms scattered around them only helping to distract the eye from my peeking face.

Kaiien and Ezra are in the woods, the massacre continuing below my haven, their screams not reaching this far up on the hill. As I get up a noise forces me back down, a feminine gasp and the rustle of bushes peaking my curiosity.

The leaves rustle again, a trembling hand peeking through the gaps in the leaves and a small curl trapped in a twig give away the girl's cover. "Hello?"

"Mikayla?!"

"Moon?!" She jumps from out of the brush, hair wild and skin torn as she pushes past thorn after thorn, grasping at my shirt to help pull herself out of the bush. "Why are you here?!"

"Why are you?" I hush her, ducking back down under the cover of the bushes.

"They were looking for me and I ran and they caught me and I escaped and came here." Fear blends her words together, hands still gripping my shirt as her fists tremble, bloody tears running the sides of her cheeks before she wipes them away with a bloodier hand.

Pulling her out of the rest of the mess I push her onto her stomach, gesturing for her to stay down as I block off the ledge with twigs and leaves, the entrance blending into the rest of the woods as a precaution. "We don't have very much time up here..."

"Arehli and the Crossblood hiding from the big bad bear." She chokes out a bitter laugh, cheek resting against the cool stone as I get to start healing her scratches, her blood smeared against the rock only making me nauseas.

"It's weird thinking," I start, watching her cuts close in on themselves, blood washing itself away and scars lightening into her tan skin. "that I basically gave birth to you."

"Should I start calling you Daddy?" This time around her laugh is genuine, hoarse, but genuine.

With a start I'm up, hands clasping her cheeks as a smile works its way onto my lips. "Maybe that's the birthplace of sin! Where the Crossblood was made!"

Her eyes are filled with light, hands gripping mine as she pushes me back down with a chuckle, shutting her eyes tight against the light peeking through the shadows of the trees in concentration. "Try to remember where exactly that is."

I follow suit, eyes squeezed and hands clasped in hers as I curl next to her, concentrating against the screams and gurgles of the battle below. My mind is blank, palms digging into my eyes forcing me to remember. It's there... somewhere.

"I got it!" Too lazy to continue hunting for the memory in my own mind, I place my fingers against her temple, the vaguest image of a tree coming to shape against the fuzzy backdrop of her mind.

"I know where that is."

Her eyes widen at my words, breath shaky as she grabs onto me for support. "What?"

"I know where that tree is, it isn't far from here."

"Uh-"

"C'mon!" I seize her by the hand, grabbing hold of my cloak cast aside and dragging her back down the way we came. It isn't hard to maneuver through the crowd, each man going rogue as throats are slit and bodies impaled, Mikayla skidding on a pile of frozen blood though I force her to continue. We can't afford to get caught, not when we're so close to stopping this.

We continue across the other side of the woods, feet tripping over roots and chests heaving as we avoid wasp nests and low branches alike. By this point I'm practically carrying Mikayla, her feet barely touching the ground as we constantly glance over our shoulders, paranoia getting the best of both of us.

We only stop when we reach the edge of the woods, the noise of war far gone by now and the commotion of a town nearing us with each step we take. Within two steps we're in the Magie, the top of the tree visible from the other side of the town.

Running across the dirt roads we surprisingly don't gather many looks, the occasional cart pusher turning our way but continuing on with his work, harassing another man into purchasing whatever he sells to them. Woven fabric hangs from the windows of the sky high homes, dirt covering the windows from the roads as we speed past them all, nearing the base of the tree with every step.

Chests heaving we double over at the base of the tree, both our hands grasping the overgrown trunk waiting for something to happen.

It's been a good five minutes, our breathing calm and hearts heavy at our realization.

This isn't the right place.

A hand seizes mine, neck snapping as a man pulls me into a carriage, Asbjørn's carriage, and heads for the opening of the Magie and back to the battlefield. His eyes bear disgust, my eyes focused on the window of the carriage, Mikayla peeking out from behind the thick base of the tree. She mouths something to me but I can't understand it, the desert town blending into the green of the woods, carriage rocking as we drive over unsteady ground, wheels sticking to the roots and jostling over ripped twigs.

The screams are back in earshot, carriage stopping at the mouth of the battlefield, there are less men fighting than when we left a half hour ago, the size of the shifters seeming to be unhurt however.

Hands still twisted behind me, I'm led away from the human debris and forced into a tent reminiscent of all the rest. Asbjørn carelessly waves the man off with an unsightly growl. "Did you think I wouldn't notice you had left?"

I don't answer him, his patience growing thin as he overturns the desk, claws running down the side of it as it smashes to pieces somewhere in the distance. He rushes me into the corner, falling onto his hind legs to trap me there, staring down at me as his claws dig into the flesh of my shoulder, teeth barred as he speaks.

"Did you think I would not notice that you left, Arehli?" His voice bounces off the walls of the tent, roar echoing into the night, rivaling those of the fallen men as his paw falls down onto me, blood flowing out of the rips in my shirt as I cradle the cut with a cry, his voice threatening as I back myself farther into the walk in an attempt to escape him. Blood rushes down my quivering hand, pain coursing down my chest and spreading to the rest of my body within mere moments of the impact.

"Do you not understand that you are a shifter? That everything you've gone through is because you are a shifter? They take your jewel and you write it off as nothing, they imprison your creator and you see it as nothing!" He spits his words, anger soaking each syllable he speaks. "They treat you as a prisoner and you let them, Arehli. Your kind has been hated for eternity, the one moment they have to have power you wish to take it from them. I know you have the Crossblood, Arehli. You've hidden her somewhere but you will find her and we will win this war.

"They treat us like the worst sin, like we chose this hell to live in. Like we chose to be these demons!" His breaths have stilled, anger dying down but he continues to hover over me, to trap me in this corner as I bleed to death, head throbbing though I have enough strength left to kick him in the leg, running away from the tent but not without one last word.

"My name is Moon."

If he wants to come after me it won't be very hard, the trail of blood I leave leads straight to the ledge, hands shaking as I desperately attempt to heal myself and my panicked state of mind. He isn't wrong. But he isn't right either. The blood has drenched the stitches on my wrist, a reminder of how they treat us. Things would be different if we won, but we'd abuse it all too soon.

They treat us like the worst sin.

The line won't leave my mind, it echoes over and over until it no longer sounds the same, just some distorted version of the original saying. But we are sinners. We kill our own children, we kill other's children, we're murders of every degree. Shifters are the worst sin there is.

My mind wavers for a moment before I'm jolting up, legs forcing me to move across the night, for Julius, for Kaiien, for Andrew, for anyone I can find as the moon lights my path to the other side of the woods, chest heaving as I realize the answer has been with me my entire life.

The birthplace of sin. The birthplace of shifters.

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