Not Gonna Die (A Skybrine Fanfic)

|Chapter 23| The first Team

          The next day dawned bright and sunny, perfect weather for touring the base and training. In the afternoon, you could feel the heat of the sun on your skin when you stepped outside and its light shot through the leaves of the trees so that the forest ground was a patchwork of yellow and bright green light. The confusing colours made it difficult to see what animals darted across the ground or flitted through the trees, which was perfect for him as people would hesitate for a second if they happened to see him.

          His blue shirt and jeans weren't the best colours to blend into the forest but the large sword sheathed on his back would be enough to convince anyone who stumbled upon him to back away slowly. Well, almost anyone, he thought wryly, hand absentmindedly stroking a new red scar near his elbow. The base of Team Crafted was in front of him, set far back from the treeline but his enhanced eyes had no trouble examining the guards.

          A far away sound of fast approaching hooves caught his attention and as the crunching of leaves reached him, he spun around, right hand drawing his sword from the scabbard in one smooth move, finishing the turn with sword ready to lash forward. He lowered it almost instantly as he recognised the snorting black horse and, more importantly, its rider.

          "Didn't expect you to join," he remarked, sheathing the weapon and resuming his watch.

          "I heard Seto's call too," Queen Anne said, dismounting and giving her horse a gentle pat before joining her husband. "Of course I'm going to join."

           Herobrine gave a hum and glanced over his shoulder at the horse. Steam rolled off the animal as if it had been running extremely hard and it was already ripping up grass, munching contently. "I didn't realise that he was still alive."

          Anne smiled. "If you have a horse who can run faster than the wind, you tend to look after him very well."

          "Yeah, but 200+ years is a long time to live for a horse."

          "245 if you want to be specific."

          "When is our anniversary again?"

          "26th. Two weeks."

          "Brilliant, hopefully I won't lose track of the days for the 167th year in a row and we can actually celebrate for once."

           Anne gave a laugh and then the silence of the forest took over. They both stood very still, looking like two life-sized statues, as unaffected by time as stone. The horse continued to munch on the fresh grass.

          "How long have you been here?" Anne asked quietly.

          "A while."

          "And we haven't gone in yet because...?"

           "There was a group that went in late yesterday," Herobrine explained quietly. "All armoured but weapons weren't drawn. Probably a peace talk or something. I don't want to go in and stuff it up. Besides, nothing's happened yet."

          "Seto wouldn't have called if it wasn't serious."

          "I know," Herobrine mumbled, turning away and putting his back to the rough tree bark.

          Anne waited for a few seconds. "We both swore to protect people," she reminded quietly.

          "I know," Herobrine said again. "It's just... I mean, I didn't talk to Adam much but he seemed like a good guy. But if he's a threat to people, if he has the power to destroy hundreds of thousands of people like... like I did... I have to stop him. For good. But..."

          Words didn't seem to be working for Herobrine at the moment and he started pacing, his feet making no noise on the forest floor. But Anne knew what he was getting at, and why he hadn't acted already. "You won't go back to who you were, Hero," she told him. "You're different now."

          "Wish I could be that optimistic," he muttered.

           Anne moved after him and took his hand, forcing him to stop walking and face her. "We promised to work together," she said. "We both knew what it would cost and what we might have to do. We're not going to let that level of destruction happen again. No matter what."

            Hero gave a sigh and Anne stepped, closer, wrapping her arms around his body. He returned the gesture. Anne's head was down on his shoulder so he put his head on top of hers, her wavy brown hair strangely soft. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to be normal, mortal. Just two people with normal problems and normal experiences, oblivious to the wider world, spending their lives together instead of so far apart.

          The horse kept eating.

          Night fell and the torches of the streets in the base were lit, making the main street filled with a surreal glow. The upper half of the street, nearest to the castle, was surrounded by the houses of the recruits but lower down stood the training grounds and the infirmary and a little apart from them, the alchemy building. Adam was still in the room below, hands cuffed securely in front of him, bored out of his brain. Seto had checked on him twice that day, bringing food and a bouncy ball which Adam threw against the wall so many times that he was sure there was a dent in it.

          The ball slipped out of his grip when he tried to catch it again (it was very difficult with cuffs on) and it rolled across the room. Adam tried to reach out for it but ended up just flopping to the ground, too bored and tired to get up and retrieve it. Instead, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the plain ceiling, reflecting on how little people examine their roofs.

           Pain stabbed at the inside of his head so hard that he cried out, grabbing his head as best as he could with his cuffs. "You're not getting out," he growled, teeth gritted together. His stomach churned so badly that he couldn't push himself up, his head throbbed with every quick heartbeat and his arms were starting to shake. He took deep breaths, but he didn't have anything to distract himself with and the pain was getting worse.

          With a huge amount of effort, he slowly picked himself up from the ground and put his back to the wall, legs wobbling as they tried to hold him up. The thought of warning Seto flicked through his mind but before he could act on it, he felt his legs give out and he fell to the floor, but he never remembered hitting it.

I love that horse. He's my comic relief. And I probably got the idea for him from Arion in Heroes of Olympus.