Shrunken

Chapter 42

  Suddenly, the fangs tore themselves out of Seto's neck.

  A roar of pain and fury struck his ears.

  Weakly, he opened his eyes and through spot-speckled vision he saw the enraged face of Angel, snarling ferociously above him...

  With a long, jagged shard of ice impaled in his left eye. 

  Blood dripped from the glistening red crystal, clasped by swollen eyelids, his facial fur soaking the dark liquid. The wolf forgot Seto for a moment and jerked his head around, shoulders bunched, searching the wind-blown trees with one seething, glowing blue eye. "Who dares-?!" he bellowed.

  From nowhere, a blast of blue light slammed into him with brutal force. Seto squinted against the harsh radiance, its intensity almost blinding. The wolf was flung like a ragdoll off of him and into the air. He watched as Angel's dark form tumbled into the underbrush with a howling shriek.

  Seto tried to control his wheezing breaths, feeling the gore rush from his throat. Raindrops continued to dapple his body and plummet into his dull eyes. Smaller streaks of lightning raked the black gloom of night.

  What was that? his weakened and obscured mind wondered.

  Fear flooded throughout his throbbing chest when he heard rustling footsteps approaching. Had Angel returned to gloat and finish him off? He hoped it was quick, for the pain searing his body was unbearable.

  But instead of the shaggy head of a wolf, the figure of a person stood over him. In the growing darkness and hazy blotched vision, Seto could only make out a shadowed unrecognizable face, a billowing cloak, and intense turquoise irises analyzing him silently.

  The figure stooped down immediately and dropped whatever they'd been carrying onto the dampened grass. Seto opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to ask questions, but was silenced by a single cold fingertip. Then the thought occured to him that speaking would worsen his battered throat's condition.

  He felt hands peel away what was left of his cloak and shirt, exposing the sticky shredded wounds Angel had to torn into his chest and his ugly scarlet arms missing large chunks of tissue. An anguished groan rattled in his lungs as the pain worsened. His eyes began to flutter closed, shadows dancing in his line of sight.

  A soft blue glow illuminated the figure's slender pale fingers as they touched his face. Eyes flying open, the sorcerer gasped at the sudden feeling that rocketed through his body. He couldn't quite describe it if he tried. It wasn't painful, but powerful, the magic flooding through his body like an enormous wave crashing onto the shore. He felt his flesh begin to mend and grow over his wounds. The steady flow of blood was cut off and replaced. The pain ebbed away. Oxygen passed through his lungs normally, cool and sweet. His body shimmered with turquoise light.

  Then it was cut off abruptly. The figure hunched over and coughed, breathing heavily, probably trying not to pass out. Instead of continuing, the healer rummaged through the bag they had dropped and produced a small glass vial. They opened the lid and pressed it to Seto's lips. Warm liquid with a pinkish glow trickled down his throat, a placid feeling traveling through his limbs like a gentle stream.

  The intense pain he had felt was replaced by sheer exhaustion. His previous magical usage had spent an immense amount of energy and his body felt sore.

  With newfound health, Seto tried to view his lifesaver. A hood shadowed the healer's face in the growing darkness. Even with cleared vision, he could only make out pale skin, darkened facial features, and the luminescent blue eyes. They looked so familiar, but he couldn't place a finger on how.

  "Who are you?" he asked finally, his voice no longer wheezy and gurgling.

  The figure said nothing, simply closing the vial and placing it back in his bag.

  Seto tried again. "Where did you come from?"

  Silence. The figure collected their belonging and assessed Seto's recovery, checking for wounds that may have been missed. The rain had died down to a light drizzle, wind swaying the branches of trees gently.

  "Why did you help me?"

  They paused and turned back to him, mystical eyes almost expressionless. 

  "Would you stand by and watch someone be murdered?" The voice sounded male and stern, maybe slightly younger than Seto. 

  "Fair point," he replied, straining to keep his eyes open.

   "Those wolves are ruthless and cruel," the healer continued, a hint of longing edging his tone. "You'd be surprised how many times this has happened."

  Seto thought he heard him whisper. "And how stupid I was to have lost her..."

 He squinted at the other sorcerer, still prying to capture his face clearly. "Do I know you? You seem familiar."

  The healer's expression hardened. "That doesn't matter," he proclaimed, stern apathy returning to his voice. "Go to sleep, your body has to process that healing potion. And I have to figure out what I'm going to tell my boss for using it."

  "But-" Before Seto could protest, the unidentified magic-bearer placed a glowing hand on his forehead and his eyes drifted closed.