It was nearly noon when the girl woke up. Crane needed to find help, he needed to move but he couldn’t muster the strength to keep on going. Even if he did, he didn’t want to leave the girl alone. He couldn’t also carry her, so he rested with her. He checked the arrow wound again in her sleep, but it was all gone. Like it never happened. Crane needed to know how the hell that happened.

Her waking started with a cry. “Don’t…” She whispered in her sleep. “Not again.” She continued as tears dropped from her closed eyes. After a while, she jumped in her sleep. Screaming, and wailing.

“Calm down!” Crane tried to hold her down, but she didn’t come to her senses for a while. She kicked the air and waved her arms around in panic, but after a while, she calmed down.

Trying to hold her with his left arm, Crane grit his teeth. Eilar! He cussed, silently. One of the bones in his lower arm was completely broken into two. Even moving a little wet his eyes in tears.

“Are you alright?” Crane asked, expecting another jump from the feral child but this time, she surprised Crane.

“I’m sorry.” She looked down. Her eyes tried avoiding Crane. He felt like his sheer presence was weighing down on her. He and her guilt both. So, he backed away a few steps.

Jet black hair, and eyes just as dark. Skin pale as snow and cheeks sunken inside. Now that she was not trying to kill him, she looked like a weak little child. A lot frailer than what others her age should look like.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Crane assured him even though her couldn’t make himself fully believe it. “I felt a presence in your soul. You were…”

“Possessed?” The kid replied, her words sounded like she was guessing but the tone was like she was used to being called that.

“I was going to said not in control.”

“I don’t care. It was my fault.” She tucked her legs in a crouch and hugged them. She looked devastated.

“It might be.” It looked like comforting the kid wasn’t going to work at all. So, Crane chose another approach. “What matters is what you are going to do to redeem yourself. You can help me.”

At that moment, Crane saw a glimmer of light in her eyes. It was not the sun. It was her light.

“I can…” With a look at the ground, she questioned herself. “Help?” She was now looking at him, it was an improvement.

“Yes. I am kind of lost. And injured.” Crane felt remorse as the girl’s face soured in an instant. He shouldn’t have said that. “Not just because of you. I’ve had a few rough rides” He showed his swollen feet, but it didn’t seem like it helped.

“I also have a friend.” He continued. “And she is heavily injured. I left her at the beach to get help. Can you help me find some?”

“I can help.” The little girl approached Crane, asking for his broken arm. Crane in hesitation but then complied as the girl said. She was trying to help. There was no harm in letting her help.

The girl touched his arm and thin vines started to appear out of her fingertips. Dark green vines covered Crane’s arm and steadied the broken bone. Crane let out a little gasp in pain as the vine formed into a cast and solidified.

“It will heal quicker.” The girl continued as he gave Crane a little vine rope to hang his arm to his neck, over his chest.

“Can you help my friend too?”

“I can try.” The girl looked happy but still, she had a hard time looking at Crane directly. She was looking around anxiously and at the ground. She barely did any eye contact.

“Show us the way.” The girl asked and they both started to walk towards the beach.

“But she isn’t exactly like me.” If the girl could heal Arash it would be great, but he didn’t know whether her magic would work on her. A broken arm and a detached wing were fairly different. “And has a missing limb.”

“I can try. But it would take longer.”

“Also, she is a wyvern.”

The girl stopped walking and looked at Crane briefly.

To this, Crane only smiled awkwardly, his fine hand on his nape.

After looking at him for a few more seconds, the girl started to follow Crane again.

“Thank you for helping.” Crane showed his gratitude. Finally, he was doing something to help Arash. “And what should I call you?”

The girl kept walking on in silence, deciding what to say. “Spera.” She decided after a while. “You can call me that.”

“Thank you again.” Crane was just too grateful. He could thank her all day even though she was trying to kill her just hours ago. Arash had lost a wing, a broken arm would be a feeble price for her to recover. “I am Crane.”

***

As they continued their walk, Crane saw the girl getting more and more anxious and he could guess why to a degree. She was lying half-dead in a forest with an arrow stuck in her shoulder when he found her. It was obvious there were people after her.

“It’s fine.” Crane tried to comfort her. Seeing her all so fidgety and paranoid made him stay on the edge too. “No one’s coming to get you.”

Spera didn’t reply, she just bowed her head and kept walking in silence. It wasn’t like she had nothing to say, but rather she didn’t want to hear the thing she had to say. There were people after her and they were going to get to her.

Just as Crane attempted to tell her it was all going to be okay, a sound of the bugle was heard, accompanied by growls of hounds and hooves beating the ground from far away. A group of people was approaching them from the south, from where Crane met Spera.

“We have to run,” Crane whispered at Spera instead of comforting her.

“Not to the beach.” Spera bit her lip, eyes full of indecisiveness. “They can’t see your friend. They’ll take her too.”

“Yes.” Crane smiled. “We can’t go to the beach. But you can. Tell Azavel I sent you and run after healing Arash. I’ll make time.”

“But how will you find us?” Spera asked, hesitant to run. She didn’t seem to like leaving her troubles to a stranger.

“I will.” Crane turned towards the closing sounds. He could feel Azavel wherever he was. They were bonded by soul. So long as they all were together it would be fine. “Be quick. And run with her.”

***

Crane’s heart pounded like a clock made of flesh and muscle. A heavy feeling of agitation rose in his gut and set on his throat like a rock, and as haste rushed to his veins, he took deep breaths and tried to focus.

He was alone. The sounds of hounds kept getting closer. His arm was broken. The hooves beat the dirt harsher and harsher. There was no time to prepare. He could even distinguish the shouting among the approaching horde.

“This way!” One shouted.

“She’s close!” Another replied.

And then he saw them approaching along the path. Three men were running behind three hounds, struggling to keep up and hold the straps of their collars. They were the ones who shouted, panting and angry.

Behind them were five horsemen, four of which were clad in dark armour from head to toe and one hidden in a grey cloak.

He kept taking deep breaths.

Things didn’t seem so bright. If the armour were of the same metal as the arrowhead, he would have trouble hurting them. And if the man was as strong as he was ominous, he wouldn’t be a lesser target.

At least, there was no one to protect. He could take them on. It was the least he could do as Anem’s apprentice. The lack of an arm would mean nothing to him.

So, he stood tall in the middle of the path, in each side forest spreading wide and the huntsmen stopped the hounds before they tore him apart. Only a few meters away.

“Hi!” Crane waved the angry men as the hounds sniffed around. “On a hunt huh?” He pointed at the bow and quiver on one of the three huntsmen’s back. It was a simple arrow, and the quiver was full of arrows.

Is this the bastard who shot her? Crane thought as he tried to suppress his uprising anger with a smile.

“Step aside lad.” The one in the middle spat out. “Before me, gals get a taste of you.”

Crane looked behind the hounds. Behind were the knights and the man in a grey robe. He was ten or so meters away, but Crane could feel the rotten aura of the man. Sickening and disgusting. He was a mage. Strong but wicked. He was the one to look out for.

“What are you hunting?” Crane continued, one hand on the cast and the other briefly pointing at the knights. “Looking at those armours, I’d say you are hunting something big. A bear perhaps?”

He needed to make time. There was no need to jump to the fighting part.

Horsemen didn’t reply but the huntsmen barked like his little hairy girls. Crane could pick out the resemblance. All four were barking, spitting saliva everywhere.

“Let them be.” Crane wasn’t afraid of hounds. He liked them, and they usually liked him back.

“Go away, lad!” The man barked again. “Last chance.”

Crane didn’t reply, he simply shrugged his shoulders and crouched. Seeing the indifference, the man burst with rage and let the hounds go.

“Go get ‘em gals!”

They, however, didn’t jump at Crane. They rushed at him, but not as a hound did to a prey. They circled him and Crane pet them one by one. Crane wished that he had his other hand too as he saw the hounds rushing for his hand to be pet first.

He scratched their back and neck asking repeatedly which one was the good girl. Seeing the scene made the huntsmen even more furious. The three drew their swords but the hound started to snarl at the sight of the blades.

“Step aside, lad.” Crane smiled as he held them back. “Or I’ll let them be.”

The huntsmen were going to attack the hounds and Crane but the man in the robe stopped them.

“That’s enough.” The man’s face was mostly hidden behind his cloak, but Crane could still see the emotionless lips moving, surrounded by a white stubble. “He is stalling. Go for the girl.” He ordered. “I’ll deal with him alone.”

Angry huntsmen froze in their places and swallowed their pride. They sheathed their swords and drew a large circle away from Crane and the hounds.

Crane couldn’t let them pass, so he sent the hounds back to their masters. “Go.” He whispered in their ears and the hounds followed.

The men were on guard, but it wasn’t enough. The hounds quickly tasted the blood and raw meat. the men fell in seconds, screaming and trying to crawl away.

“Enough.” The grey robe breathed out and his aura exploded like water like boiling milk escaping from a pot, spilling everywhere. He could feel each breath of the mage, as his rotten aura spread around the forest like a plague. The wave of power scared the hounds away.

At least they are safe, Crane thought as the hounds scattered away.

Crane’s way of affecting them was subtle. Canines of various kinds always felt closer to him. He would simply flare his mana and let them feel it. They would accept him as one of their pack.

The man, however, flared his mana, his soul as hard as he could and just straight out scared them away, chasing them into the woods. Crane understood why they felt that way. If he didn’t have people to protect, he would have run too.

Now that there was nothing in between, Crane studied the knights. They were five meters away, waiting for an order. Their black armour had a similar texture to the broken shards in Spera’s shoulder and he could feel no aura from the knights.

“I said what are you hunting. I still wait for a reply.”

The dark steel soaks the power just like the shards. It keeps them hidden and impenetrable Crane thought. Rendering them both unable to use magic and be hurt by it. They’ll be a bigger trouble than I thought.

No one answered. They simply stared at Crane. Crane stared back at them. If they wanted to stare at him, they could do it as much as they wanted. All Crane had to do was stall them. He didn’t care how exactly he did that.

“Step aside, mageling.” The man behind ordered with a belittling demeanour, looking down from his horse. “We do not quarrel with you.”

“No quarrel huh? Your men seemed to have one.”

“And they got what they deserve for their stupid rage. I neither have a quarrel with you nor the time to have one.”

“But you have a problem with her.” Crane knit his brows, showing where his allegiance lay.

The man sighed. “I was going to say I could use a guy like you, but I guess that look already refuses any offers.”

“You bet it does.” Crane could literally smell the evil around the man. He was not someone to work with. Letting alone the fact that he was hunting a little girl.

The man in grey robes sighed. “Kill him.” He ordered, his mouth barely opening, tired and uninterested. “I don’t care how just be quick.”

Hearing the order, one of the knights charged at him. Crane stopped gathering his mana and amongst the sounds of hooves beating the earth he jumped aside, his mana strengthening his legs and the sword passed by him just a hair's breadth away.

“What do you even want from her.” Crane got up and got ready for a spell, reaching deep within his soul for warmth and fire.

“It.” The man replied. “She is not a girl. She is a beast to be put down.”

“She seemed like one as she cried in pain. A lonely little girl.”

A fireball appeared on his hand as the knight charged at him again. “Against eight men.”

He sent the flaming sphere flying at the forehead of the horse. Its eyes closed by the blinders on the bridle, the horse headbutted into the fireball, and the explosion hit threw its head on the ground. Hind legs rose in flash and the horse tumbled beside Crane as the knight fell along with his steed. They rolled a few times and when they stopped, the knight got stuck under its dead horse, unable to move under its weight.

Crane rushed at the man and unsheathed his sword as the other three charged at him. “And armed to teeth.” Crane roared as they approached, and the horses halted their charge, rearing up. Mana amplifying his roar, and his aura forcing its way out of his body, he shouted. “Pathetic.”

That opportune moment was all Crane needed. This time, he charged at the men, his body moving with an inhuman speed enhanced by magic. He cut the legs of two horses and at his attempt at the third one got stopped by the knight who managed to parry his blow.

The sword was surprisingly sharp. Crane felt that he was like he didn’t find that out when the Avran struck him with it.

In pain, the wounded horses threw their riders and the knights fell, leaving themselves open for an attack but as Crane charged at one of them, a gale clashed with him head-on, sending him flying back.

“Don’t forget me mageling.” He raised his hand and the winds started to clash around him. “And stop this vain fight.”

The winds pushed Crane back but he got up nevertheless. Crane could resist, the man was no stronger than him. But problem was, Crane wasn’t stronger either. But he was alone and had only one arm.

“What if I refuse?” Crane asked, one eyebrow raised but the man in grey robes didn’t reply. All he did was pull his raised hand down, and the winds clashing around him jumped at Crane like blades made of air.

Crane dodged, rolling to one side, and hiding behind one of the fallen horses. Winds hit the flesh in a second and ripped it apart like dozens of razor blades.

The cover protected him for only a second, but it was all Crane needed. He rushed at the man, with a fireball in his hand.

Mage sent another wind at him, but Crane rolled under it, hitting the ground with fire as he stopped. The fire circled him, bursting outwards. It swallowed the knights, but the armour soaked the magefire.

In his front, the fire clashed with the wind, towering over him like a curtain. With his hand, Crane withheld the winds with the fire, the sword still in his hand. If he had his other hand, he would have attacked with it, working another spell. Unfortunately, he only had one and started to understand Anem.

So, he moved aside, hidden behind the curtain of fire and as the blades of wind continued coming, he stabbed the ground with his sword, leaving it there and tunnelled all the fire into his hand, like drawing another sword from its sheath and shaped it into a blade.

The winds kept coming, but for some of them it was too late. Half of them clashed at the place where Crane stood a few moments ago even before man could react. The wall of flames had hidden him well and when they tuned into the sword of flames in his hand, the man couldn’t bend the trajectory.

The other half of the blades followed Crane as the mage bent his arms, redirecting them.

Crane on the other hand, parried the blades of wind with his sword of fire. Mage fire clashed with the mage wind and their mana exploded as they touched.

Crane, flared his mana, turning it into an explosion as he swung the mage fire and immediately picked up the sword on the ground. He rushed at the man who was fazed by the exploding fire, his blades of mage wind in a disarray.

Finally thinking that he found an opening amidst the blades, Crane crept in swiftly and swung his dark sword at the man.

He shouldn’t have.

The man parried the blow back at him with his sword, unsheathing it in a flash. The burst of air that came with his blade pushed Crane off his balance.

He was too close. The man had been luring him closer and closer, while Crane had thought he was dodging and getting near to finishing the man. He was a fool, and Crane knew it very well.

The man called out a name, shouting and the winds above fell on Crane. Thrown off his balance by the last blow, the winds pressured Crane, keeping him down and the mage jumped on him.

The man kicked Crane in the gut, and the blow knocked all the air out of his chest. It wasn’t just the kick. The man pulled the air straight away from his lungs and Crane couldn’t stop the man’s invading mana. He couldn’t even keep on holding the sword.

A heavy coldness set on his heart as the sword slipped from his grip. His options were getting lesser and lesser. He gasped for air with a blurry vision, and then Crane felt the metal in his wrists.

The mage cuffed him with the dark steel and the power left his body as air returned to his lungs. Coughing and vomiting, he squirmed in pain.

***

“Now.” The mage said before looking at his comrades and punched Crane one more time in the gut. “Where is that little witch.”

After giving him a few seconds to collect his thoughts, he pressed Crane’s head to the ground. Though he could breathe better, the handcuffs soaked his mana, leaving him powerless and desperate. It was just like the arrowhead, but this time the steel was bigger and could siphon more.

“Hello?” The man quoted Crane as he knocked on his head like a door. “I’d play with you but I have no time to spare.” He sat on Crane’s back as he lay down on his chest. “So let’s be quick.” The man put his hand on Crane’s head, and pain took hold of his body. It felt like his body was on fire, and being skinned at the same time.

The man pulled his hand away and asked again. “Where.”

“West.” Crane lied as he squirmed in the horror of the pain he had just received. Arash was on far north. He could no longer sense Azavel since the dark steel gripped his wrists but he had to be close to Arash.

I have saved enough time, he thought as his body relaxed, still twitching after the mental attack.

“Where in the west?”

“She told me she had a …”

The man held Crane’s head again and as the pain of thousands of needles penetrated his skin, he heard the man’s whisper in his ear. “Be careful. You better be speaking the truth.”

“She is not alone.” Word fell out of his mouth. He was being bewitched. It didn’t work as much as the man wished to work but still, it was enough to spill some information. Choosing which truth to tell, however, Crane could still do no matter how hard it was. “Strong. Her friend will protect her and they will run together.”

“Good boy.” The man got up and let Crane rest for a bit but suddenly, they both heard the sound of steel shattering. The handcuffs had broken into pieces like glass, just like the arrow.

“Interesting.” Man’s eye grew large with surprise. “I suppose you are more useful than I thought.” He kicked Crane in the head, knocking him unconscious.