Chapter 14 - Cold Blood

“Not arguing with that. Let’s go,” Leon said.

“Oh, wait!” Skyle put a hand on Leon’s arm to stop the other boy just as he had been about to turn around.

Leon looked puzzled, but complied silently.

Skyle looked down at the flask he was holding in his hand, apparently completely absorbed in studying it.

After a while, just as Leon finally couldn’t wait any longer and was about to ask a question, Skyle suddenly unstoppered the flask and took a tentative sip from it.

Instants later, the color began to return to Skyle’s skin while it took a much healthier tone. His eyes looked more alert and the deep weariness within them seemed to have dwindled somehow. A small smile stretched his lips as his tongue unconsciously licked at his lips.

Skyle squinted down at the flask once again, then lifted it to his lips once more, this time taking a bigger mouthful of the liquid. Immediately afterwards, Skyle offered the flask to Leon.

The bigger boy didn’t speak a word as he took the flask and took a deep drink from it, but his reaction was completely different from Skyle’s, as his face turned slightly green as he gagged. However, with a visible effort of will, Leon gulped down the mouthful of liquid.

“What is it?” Skyle asked with concern.

“How the hell can you keep down that swill?” Leon asked, horrified.

“What? The taste is a bit outlandish, but pleasant,” Skyle retorted, puzzled.

The greenish tinge in Leon’s face slowly faded away, but clearly his reaction had not been feigned. Could the illusion affect not only the sense of sight, but also taste? Just how powerful would such an illusion have to be? Just what could be the purpose for such a massive illusion?

Returning to more pressing concerns, Skyle narrowed his eyes momentarily while he studied Leon’s body with his True Sight. In his vision, the greenish glow of the liquid had began to spread throughout Leon’s body as soon as it entered it, and with it an overall brightening of Leon’s aura could be seen, though it didn’t last for very long. Still, the added brilliance left a pleasant flurry of green sparks that floated within his body, especially concentrating around Leon’s wounded areas, where his innate aura showed definite signs of having faded.

“Was that a healing essence?” Leon asked, staring at the flask with a new look of shock in his eyes. Healing essences were elemental essences specifically refined into a liquid form in order to treat grievous injuries. However, the mix was usually very unstable, and it was hideously expensive. How could such a precious item be left just anywhere?

“I don’t know, but for now I think it is better if we don’t take too much of it at once,” Skyle murmured, noticing that the greenish glow in Leon still hadn’t faded. “Help me pack some of this stuff, and we’ll be on our way.”

Swiftly taking a few bottles of every variety from the crate, they bundled them up with bandages around them, making a few tidy bundles that fit perfectly in a couple carrying pouches Skyle had found in another box. They could be securely slung over their shoulder with a few clasps, and allowed free movement while letting them access the contents of the pouch at any time.

“They are well equipped,” Leon muttered.

“And now it will only bite them in the ass,” Skyle commented, securing the pouch and its contents and nodding to Leon in order to set off.

Though the medicine seemed to take effect very swiftly, Skyle’s leg had already swelled up to a great size, and for ease of movement Skyle was limping along with his arm around Leon for support, while he continued to use his True Sight to hide from patrols.

Still, the beast’s ferocious new assault had come at the perfect time, as most soldiers seemed to be rushing towards the center of the camp and left many other portions almost completely deserted.

Making much faster progress thanks to this fortunate incident, Skyle and Leon had to dodge less patrols and at last arrived at the exit shown in the map. However, they had been immediately dismayed while gazing at the brightly lit entrance of the camp that lay a mere 300 feet away.

Several torches illuminated the area surrounding a sturdily build wooden gate, which was the only opening in a twelve feet high wall made of thick wooden trunks. At least a dozen guards could be seen standing at the entrance with a watchful gaze, though most of them couldn’t help but throw an uneasy eye towards the disturbance at the center of the camp.

After agreeing that it would be simply suicidal to try to exit through the gate, they’d decided to follow the walls until they found an unwatched point where they could make climb their way out.

***

Eyes closed, Skyle tried to remember why it was necessary as his breath began to accelerate.

“Simple survival of the fittest,” Skyle chanted within his mind. “No matter what, I need to get out of here. I need to go back home.”

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and shook him abruptly.

“Hey, what is going on?” came Leon’s concerned voice from behind. “I can see the wall from here, why have we stopped? Patrol incoming?”

Both boys were crouching beneath a wagon, seeking shelter within its shadows while bright torches cast a flickering light over the vacant tents around them. Though it seemed almost deserted in this part of the camp, perhaps it was not so strange given the constant sound of explosions coming from the center of the camp, where the rifts lay. Sounds of men shouting orders were intersped with screams of pain, and occasionally a great, beastial roar shook the air.

“Who knows how much longer that beast will distract them for? We need to make our move while we still can,” Leon whispered fiercely, his fingers tightening over the handle of the axe he had replaced the small hammer with.

In the end, Skyle seemed to finally reach a decision and gave a small, if heavy sigh, before turning towards Leon.

“We must survive, right?”

“Huh? Eh, of course,” Leon stammered.

“Kill or be killed?” Skyle asked, though it didn’t sound like a question.

Leon nodded grimly. “Kill or be killed.”

“Then here’s what needs to happen,” Skyle explained in a low tone, and though his voice was firm, his eyes were trembling.

***

Skyle’s senses had received an incredible boost since he had awakened the True Sight. Not only was his sense of hearing amazingly acute, his eyesight was now akin to an eagle’s, able to catch the smallest details from a great distance.

At first, this had been incredibly disorienting. Unfamiliar sights had constantly assaulted his vision, from the hideous expressions on the faces of the captive people who were at the edge of despair, to the scar tissue crisscrossing the arms of the guards standing outside his cage, to the details in the grains of sand of the dirt floor below him.

However, Skyle was an exceptionally disciplined boy, and within the cage he had already become somewhat accustomed to dealing with his newly heightened senses. He had even been able to turn it into an asset, as he used not only his aura, but also his refined sense of sight in order to avoid patrols.

In this one instance, however, it had become a burden.

This burden might save their lives later on, but it was a heavy burden for Skyle nonetheless.

Still, he had to survive.

And so, in order that he might survive, others had to die.

Repeating this logic over and over in his mind, Skyle reckoned that it didn’t make him feel any better. That fact alone at least offered some small, cold comfort in a tiny, shuddering corner of his mind.

Skyle glanced towards the shadows opposite from where he stood, and saw the darkness shift as Leon nodded minutely towards him.

It was time then.

Skyle studied the profile of the man huddling quietly by the bonfire not 30 feet away from him. At the moment, Skyle was hiding behind the corner of a tent and the man couldn’t see him yet. In fact, due to the angle in which the light hit the man, Skyle couldn’t see much of the him except for his silhouette. However, that was enough, because it confirmed that he was still there, and that he still carried the object which had marked him as a target the moment Skyle had first caught a glimpse of the man from the distance.

The man was carrying a bow with him, though it was not strung. He had been carrying it in his grip, ignoring the bustle of the other soldiers as they rushed towards the center of the camp. By the clothes Skyle had seen with his incredible eyesight, this man was not a soldier. Rather, by the scars in his arms and the callouses on the tips of his fingers, Skyle could tell this man was an archer, though long past his prime.

This had to be a bowyer.

It would make sense for a professional army of this size to employ several bowyers to maintain their bows and arrows. Skyle knew that many bowyers had themselves been lifelong hunters or archers, slowly learning the trade of shaping a bow and arrow from wood.

Back when he was hiding underneath the wagon, while Leon had been spying the wall, Skyle’s gaze had been mesmerized by the man and the bow he was carrying. He did not treat it lightly, as most ordinary soldiers would. Instead, care could be seen in the way he handled the bow. Almost unconsciously, he had picked up the man’s distinctive aura, and had begun to track it as it moved along the camp.

He didn’t need to follow it far, as it had come to rest within a corner of the camp that was completely devoid of any other auras.

He was alone, and he had a bow. Furthermore, he was an old man, was not wearing any armor or weapons and would likely be easy to subdue. Though the bow he carried did not have a bowstring or arrows, surely a bowyer would have plenty of both close at hand.

Evidently, this man had settled at that secluded corner of the camp, just a few hundred feet from where Skyle hid. One part of Skyle’s mind told him to leave the man alone and climb the wall, making his escape right now.

However, Skyle’s more ruthless side knew well that at the moment he was barely more than a liability in any combat situation. His broken leg effectively prevented him from being able to fight properly in close combat, and without any ranged weapons, he would only be able to watch as Leon carried the brunt of the weight.

Would they be able to avoid any alerts before leaving the camp’s well defended perimeter? Even if they did, who knew what dangers awaited beyond the confines of the camp? Would he be pelting everything with rocks, praying for another lucky shot?

Skyle needed that bow. It would strongly increase his chances of survival.

However, Skyle had still hesitated.

Skyle had never killed another man before this night. In fact, the soldier Skyle had gutted when he had first leapt through the rift had been the first man he had ever killed. The experience had been harrowing, and shocked Skyle to his core. He had been telling himself it had been self-defense, that he had panicked and he had not truly meant it, but thinking back on the gruesome fight only made him shudder uncontrollably. Besides, with his survival still hanging on a thin thread, Skyle had chosen to bury the incident under the mountain of problems he faced for now.

Now this, this was different.

This was murder. Cold blooded murder.

There was no argument for self-defense now, no panic.

Skyle had seen the man and more to the point, had seen the things in his possession. Now Skyle would kill this man in cold blood because he wanted them.

He would become a thief, and a murderer. All in one single moment of ruthless action.

“Mom..”

For some reason, as he stepped around the tent, even as he expertly followed the shadows to stay out of sight, in his mind it was his mother’s beautiful face with that adoring look in her eyes that struck his chest as though it were a physical blow.

Still, he did take that first step, and now he must see it through.

In his hand, he hefted the knife he had received from Leon. Its cold weight felt as though it were pulling him to the ground, dragging his steps. Still, he moved forward as stealthily as he could, trying to minimize all noise.

The man still had his back to him, facing the fire. It crackled loudly, sending sparks into the night. Skyle took a few more steps, cautiously approaching the man. Even with his injured leg, they had decided that Skyle would make less noise as he was used to such when moving in the forest, while Leon had all the grace of a lumbering behemoth.

Sneaking and skulking in the shadows, apparently, did not run in the blood of the noble and exalted lineage of the House of Draxas.

The man sitting before the fire seemed to be working on something, as his shoulders slowly moved up and down, all of his attention focused on the object in his hands.

Carefully setting down the tip of his toe before shifting his weight and moving forward, Skyle took a full minute to close the 30 feet gap between himself and the man. His wounds slowed him down considerably. Still, he had managed to close the distance undetected, and was now within range striking range. The man still seemed to be completely oblivious to his presence. As a further reassurance, the man's aura had not suffered any ripples in all this time.

Curling his fingers around the dagger he held, Skyle slowly lifted it high above his head, staring at the man’s back, where his heart would be, and it was then when he made his first major mistake.

As he stared at his target, at the region where he imagined the heart would be, it also brought up a vivid vision of him plunging his dagger down. In his mind’s eye, the cold edge stabbed deeply past soft fabric and into yielding flesh, pale and wrinkled with age. It penetrated deeply with surprising ease, and the man gave a hoarse cry of surprise and pain. In his dying moments, the man would turn his head around with the last of his strength, and gaze upon Skyle’s blood-stained face with unblinking, accusing eyes.

It was only then that Skyle came back to himself, snapping out of the mental vision. His knife still trembled in his grip high above his head. His eyes were still staring at the old man’s back. As his breath quickened and his pulse beat in his ears, Skyle lifted the knife higher still, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth to brace himself before the deadly, final plunge.

“No child, you are no killer.”

The soft words uttered by none other than the man facing the fire instantly froze Skyle’s blood.