The Heirs of Death

30. Rimelia

RIMELIA

We were far past Eziara's shores, soaring through clouds, when I'd opened the first gate. It had cost me strength—more than it ever did. So much powers were thundering inside of me, in my bones and blood, renewing relentlessly, when my body could not meet the pace.

That magical portal had carried us from the skies above the ocean between Cantelot and the Dark Continent, to the ones overlooking the sea that merged with Rimelia's shores in a mass of frozen water and lands. There had been no warm foehn here, which was enough to tell me it wasn’t Mienus Elayas, but somewhere far colder.

My wingbeats were decreasing with each trickling minute, my body a lapsing moment away before it ended crashing through the skies and into the snow-blasted lands. I couldn't maintain it anymore; my strengths were fading away, seeping with the blood that barely ceased gurgling out of my wounds. I didn't know whose glorious idea was to extend some wind elemental to carry the blood that fell, so it wouldn't spread the scent so widely. I didn’t have enough power left in my muscles—what remained of them—to do so.

I needed land. I needed somewhere to crash and rest.

My breaths were uneven, the scent of my own blood was so strong it made me sick. My vision was blurring. And then I was falling.

Falling falling falling—

Strong arms wrapped around me, and glorious wingbeats echoed in my ears like howling winds. The piercing, slashing air that harassed my wounds as I fell transformed into gentle breezes swaying through the strands of hair that weren't matted to my face. I couldn't bring the wings that had faded to materialize again—didn't even find enough willpower to do so. Crashing in snow seemed so pleasant, so appealing now that every movement was agonizing.

I steered some magic away from healing, allowed it to spurt out of my hands in a feeble flicker, and watched as it stretched beneath us: another gate. But this time, I didn't guide the destination. Instead, I linked my mind with who had caught me midway through my fall, reaching his aura with open arms. Luthian. I gave him the thread, the guiding power to lead us through, then pushed his arms away.

There had been a cry. Maybe more. And maybe they had been mines, but I only stared at the gate that swallowed me as I plunged into its magic.

Then collided with thick snows.

The impact hurt, every inch of me wailing as I fell on knees and elbows. Pain tore my throat, and I found my body unable to fight the quivering and trembling that all the blood-loss had caused. My elbows slipped, my face was pressed against snow, the unforgiving coldness so agonizing it was like shards of glass were peeling my skin away.

I screamed for the first time. Screamed and screamed until my voice broke and blood came out in coughs. Until I felt the shaking of the world as the five bodies landed next to me. I tried rolling to the side, tried curling, tried finding a position that didn't so bloody hurt. But I found none.