Shape of Water

PROLOGUE

"Saoirse!" came a panicked shout from Nuala. Nuada turned to her and suddenly noticed the half-breed sway. Rosy liquid dripped from her nose and the corner of her mouth.

In seconds, the half breed collapsed. The glamour falling with her strength. Nuala managed to catch and guide her to the floor. The fish, the demon and his human woman rushed up the golden, clockwork gears to her aid.

Nuada didn't move, not wanting to associate himself. But he oddly felt uneasy; a familiar emotion he often felt these 11 moons when the half breed put herself in harm's way. He felt restless.

Movement from his left caught his eye and he turned his attention to it. The last remaining golden warrior had begun to make its way up the golden clockwork gears and beside it was the Angel of Death. Nuada's blood froze and his heart sank to the floor. His rage plummeted and left him cold, snapping him out of the red haze of centuries worth of rage.

His spear slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor. He dashed up to the platform. 

As the angel approached, the demon and his woman stepped aside. The fish stayed by his sisters right and supported the half breeds head with one scaly hand. 

"Brother, she suffers." panic and sorrow laced his sisters words as she looked up at him.

"...She's been poisoned." a tear ran down her soft pale cheek and if he were the same man he was a decade ago, he'd have brushed the tear away. But he wasn't the same. He'd changed, he realized that now. 

Without thinking he roughly shoved the fish aside. He then took his place and supported the Half breeds head with his own hand. With his other he covered the wound on her side to try and quell the bleeding. A pang of guilt went through his chest like an arrow and something else he couldn't quite place.

"She indeed suffers." spoke the Angel of Death, his many eyes blinking and watching. He pointed to the Elven Prince with a long, dirty finger. 

"By your hand." the angels voice left a chill in the air and a jolt of frigid ice up Nuada's spine. Saoirse weakly glanced up at him with glassy eyes, a weak smile on her paling lips. 

A memory flashed across his eyes. He'd been enraged and had attacked her at the bureau just hours before. He'd coated his spear and two daggers with a fatal poison meant for the demon. How she had been exposed to those blades was entirely his fault...he'd never meant to harm her.

Shame and sorrow etched onto his face and further guilt creased his brow. The poison was meant to kill...potent enough to kill a full grown troll. How she survived this long was beside him.

Saoirse weakly coughed, blood dripping from her lips and seeping through his fingers from the wound. Two other wounds made themselves known on her right shoulder and another on her thigh. They began to bleed her deep blue dress dark crimson. She laid a hand over Nuada's that held pressure on her side wound, her fingers slipping weakly between his.

"Many wounds afflicted in this battle take her life, Elven Prince. One by poisoned rage, several by weapon and another by sorrow. A life hangs the world in balance, Prince. She holds salvation for your people, for the humans and for you." spoke the Angel of Death, eyeing the Prince and pointing a long finger to him once again. 

"She bleeds for you and the Princess allowing you to live. Changing your fate." another wound appeared on Saoirse's abdomen and began to bleed fast, soaking her dress dark. 

Saoirse moaned in pain, tears flowing from her suffering eyes. She held onto Nuada's hand at her side in hopes it'll ease the pain of death. She thought of home in the Ireland forest, her parents, her mother's sweet laugh and soft singing, and her father's gentle green eyes and sparkling magic. She thought of the time she spent with Nuada, all the times he got angry with her, the times she healed him back to health and the times he was truly kind. Her heart swelled with the love she held for him and the loathing she felt for his anger.