In His Name

Chapter 35 - Justice

"Touch him again," Hayden's voice cuts though every other sound with perfect clarity. "And I will construct hell, just for you." Hayden's tone is impeccably calm, unhurried, like he's casually delivering random facts and not world altering threats. The rich timbre of his voice instantly flooding Rosco with relief. His eyes open, searching instinctively for the source, to find Hayden's hand in front of his face. Holding back the fist of the mountain spirit, just inches from his nose. Rosco's not sure if he wants to praise the god's timing or faint from the realization of exactly how close he'd come to being late. Tilting his head, Rosco peeks around the hand in his face to see Hayden not looking nearly as calm as he sounded, eyes completely blacked out in anger, scythe poised around what was left of the mountain spirit's neck. Behind them, there's a giant hole in the wall. A group of oddly familiar looking people gathered around either side of it. It seems the family resemblance is extraordinarily strong in all of the Mana range mountain spirits, echoes of each other can be seen in every face.

"Let him go." Hayden says softly, the command of a man who expects absolute obedience and does not need to raise his voice to get it. The grip on Rosco's wrist releases and the boy lets out an involuntary hiss of pain from the harsh movement and rush of blood now freed to flood the injury. It's already chilly in the room, but the temperature plummets into freezing. Hayden moves, shifting his arm to yank the mountain spirit around behind him with the handle of his scythe at the spirit's neck, shattering the god's illusion of calm and the barrier between them in a single motion.

"You've been hurt." Anger rolls off the god in waves, permeating everything; yet the tone he used with Rosco is tender, colored brightly with concern.

Powerless to call on anymore of his voice, "I-I'm f-fine." Rosco whispers, barely audible.

"It's broken." Hayden counters through his teeth.

Rosco let his eyes fall to his feet, biting at his lip, unable to deny the accusation. A shiver wracks his body, making his wrist ache more than it already did, "I'm cold." He mutters as an escape. He sounds even more pathetic than he'd expected to.

Hayden's over-sized coat materializes over Rosco's shoulders, still warm from the god's own body heat. The boy looks up to find Hayden's free hand raised and waiting. He must have question marks for eyes because Hayden feels the need to explain, "I will mend it." Rosco obeys numbly, placing his hand in the god's waiting one. He pulls up his sleeve on the injured arm, wincing not only at the sting accompanying the movement but at just how awful it looks. Already swollen, up to twice its normal size, nearly black bruises blooming up his arm to his elbow and down to his fingers. Hayden bends forward, brushing a feather soft kiss over his knuckles. Rosco would have an absolute melt down over the action if not for the immediate relief. He'd been in too much shock before to notice just how badly it hurt. Hayden releases his now perfectly healthy wrist and turns to face the spirit, raising his scythe. There's no mercy, no kindness in his eyes as he looks down on the subdued spirit below him, only world-shattering fury. The spirits gathered at the opening gasp and turn to hold each other, most choosing to look away.

Pulsing forward, "Hayden, don't." Rosco pleads, grabbing a handful of shirt at the god's side.

Surprised, Hayden lowers his arm slowly, turning his head to face Rosco, "Don't?" he asks incredulous, privately, just for Rosco to hear.

The boy falters, his eyes falling to his hand in Hayden's shirt; not quite sure what it was he wanted to say. Movement in the corner of his vision catches his eye, pulling his gaze to the others. Dora has stepped forward, eyes drawn up in worry, fingers twisting together. She's hoping, beyond hope. Still casting her fragile prayers on Rosco, that he will intercede on her brothers' behalf. Rosco's gaze falls back on his hands, wondering if that's what he's doing now, he hadn't really thought before he acted, just knew he had to move before he lost the chance, "Don't," gnawing at his lips, "Don't be angry."