This is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang but a whimper.
~ T. S. Elliot ~
~~~
The hiss of wind and smell of cold filled Xelqua's senses. Something was wrong. He knew this to be true. It was his job to know.
The hiss of wind and smell of cold filled Hels' senses. Someone was here. He knew this to be true. Not knowing would be his downfall.
Where were they? What did they think this would accomplish? They had to know it was pointless.
What was he doing? This wasn't going to accomplish anything. This was pointless.
He listened, the whistling wind and rustling leaves just loud enough to cover his near silent steps.
He listened, hoping the sounds of the forest kept him from being heard.
Where?
Where?
There.
Crap.
Xelqua ran after the stranger, his legs pounding him closer and closer to the figure in front of him.
Hels ran from the stranger, his legs pounding on the slippery ground to stay away from the figure behind him.
The trees cleared. Xelqua smiled. The stranger wouldn't know what hit him.
The trees cleared. Hels grimmaced. He no longer had the slight cover of trees.
He launched himself into the air, his wings shooting him forwards faster than any pair of legs could ever go. Just a little bit farther.
He ran faster, his eyes fixed on the castle in the distance. Just a little bit farther.
Xelqua dove.
Hels ran.
He and the stranger collapsed in a bundle of limbs.
The stranger caught up to him, causing the pair to collapse in a bundle of limbs.
"Hels?" Xelqua asked.
"Xelqua." Hels responded.
Xelqua screamed, his wing lighting up in pain.
Hels drew his knife, slamming it into his former friend's wing.
Low blow, traiter.
It was a low blow, but Hels could feel guilty later.
Xelqua summoned his magic, if Hels could cheat then so could he.
Hels saw Xelqua summon his magic, after all, it was only fair.
Xelqua threw Hels back with a burst of power, lighting up the cool night.
Hels was thrown back, the magic stinging his skin and the brightness stinging his eyes.
I'm sorry, old friend.
I'm sorry, dear brother.
Xelqua prepared another attack, but Hels was gone.
Hels tossed a potion on the ground, and he was gone.
Where did he go? Xelqua had to find him.
Where was she? Hels had to find her.
There was no one, no one at all. It was impossible. But Hels had always been good at the impossible.
There was no way, no way at all. She was here. After years of searching, he had done the impossible.
Xelqua closed his eyes and reached out into the fabric of the universe. He hated doing this, but it was the only option.
Hels opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness of the bedroom. He didn't want to do this, but it was the only option.
Her!
Her.
He had to save her.
He had to stop her.
Xelqua stood at the entrance to the bedroom, standing in shock at the horrid sight before him.
Hels stood at the foot of the bed, standing in shock at the baffling sight before him.
She's gone.
She's gone.
Blood. On the bed, on the floor, on the shattered pieces of glass everywhere. Was it hers? It had to be.
Blood. On his hands, on his clothes, on the knife. It wasn't hers. But then, whose else could it be?
How could he let this happen?
Why did this have to happen?
He couldn't save her.
He couldn't stop her.
"What now? What can we possibly do?"
"What now? We run and hope she doesn't come for us."
"And if she does?"
"Then we're dead."
Xelqua looked back to the bed. He closed his eyes. He walked out of the room.
Hels jumped out the window. He landed with a thump. He walked away from the castle.
It was almost morning. Grian would be waiting for him.
It was almost morning. Wels would be waiting for him.
He could mourn her later. Anytime but now.
He couldn't mourn her. Not now.
The sun rose above the horizon, casting shadows down the hallway.
The sun rose above the horizon, casting shadows across the muddy forest floor.
Grian was awake.
Wels was awake.
Xelqua had a job to do.
Hels had a job to do.
No time for tears.
No time for fears.
Goodbye dear sister.
Goodbye dear sister.
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Words Unspoken - A Hermitcraft Story
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