They walked through the park for what must have been an hour in silence. The sun had long set, leaving only Mehira's light to guide them through. Rhys should have been scared of the dangers the dark brought. Instead he was scared of letting his words go unheard. How surreal it was to worry about professing your love to an angel. Certainly that wasn't a challenge he had ever faced before, and it was the hardest one he had ever faced.
As Rhys returned from his thoughts, he was greeted by the cacophony of insects singing in the dark. Must be nice, having all of your predators chased off or commandeered by the demonic.
"Be on your guard," Mehira said, as if reading his thoughts. "I sense pain."
Rhys gripped his sword. This time he would be of some use, to pay back all that she had done for him. Was that it, or were you trying to impress her? Rhys forced his thoughts back into line. Either way he should do it, right? The pain could have easily been him, but she would have made explicit mention if it were.
The pair continued their trek a while longer. Suddenly they were hit by the sound of grinding stone. Not far ahead of them was a small structure. In front of it stood a four-legged creature. A deer? A large one at that, almost bigger than a horse. Rhys prayed that for once it would just be a regular animal, and for a few moments it seemed like it was. Until the rest of Mehira's light illuminated it. First, Rhys noticed its horns had become jagged and gnarled. He sighed. Second was its wavering posture, making it seem ill or sickly. Then? Then was when it turned, and what Rhys merely thought was a drinking posture was in reality the thing's head only barely managing to stay rooted to its neck. At least this one couldn't speak.
"Their existence is tiring," Mehira said. "Stay back, dear protected."
Mehira spread her wings and lurched forward. She may have not been as speedy as a Cherub, but she was still fast. The angel slammed into the thing, her spear going right through its side and smashing it into the structure in front of them. Its head quickly popped loose and fell to the floor. Rhys was stunned for a moment, putting on a wary yet excited smile. That was quick.
Celebrations did not last long.
The deer's head stirred, and Rhys took note of the spine that pulled free with its head. The segments of bone began moving, flexing like legs. In fact, they had become legs, sprouting out in an insect-like fashion. Rhys snapped to Mehira, who was now struggling with a headless body. Teeth sprouted out of the neck stump, gnashing at the air. One had become two. The man drew his sword and pointed it at the head, which was wholly focused on him and crawling uneasily forward like a centipede. The limp head's horns ground loudly across the concrete path. This was your chance, right? Rhys swallowed a lump his throat. Fighting was a lot harder now that he had something to fight for. You did it once before, right?
It was only a head. A head that was now lunging at him. Move. Move! Rhys tumbled to his left, narrowly dodging the thing. It hit the ground with only a thud. He looked back, noticing the deer head was already poised to strike again. Just how fast were these things? He desperately wanted to check on Mehira but couldn't. Fortunately he could see the light wildly change in intensity, so she must've still been moving. The thing took its next lunge, missing Rhys once again with a roll. He spun around as quickly as he could and came down at the base of its neck. With a snap it twisted its head back, only just barely catching the sword in its tangled horns. Damnit! A small droplet of blood dribbled out of the head, staining the ground. The thing was pushing back at him now.
"Rhys?!" Mehira called out.
"I'm fine!"
With all his might, the man pushed back. Despite its spindly legs, the deer head didn't budge. What now? His thoughts raced. What now? In a hasty move he yanked back, falling back onto the ground. The spine sprung over him, falling next to his side. In a wild abandon, Rhys brought his sword down on one of the columns. The thing seized, then began shaking violently. Legs kicked every which way. Its motionless head contorted in pain. The man scrambled to his feet and planted his foot on the blade, trying to force it further in. The spine wrapped around his leg. Stomp. Crunch. Stomp. Crunch. Stomp. Every successive stomp stilled the beast, until it was completely frozen. His sword finally came through the other side. Rhys pried his leg free and readied his sword once more.
Mehira had managed to flip the thing onto its back and drove her spear straight through its sternum. A loud, pained wheeze escaped the torso and it fell limp. Rhys stumbled over and drove his sword into it alongside her spear, just for the sake of being sure. Mehira quickly pulled him up into an embrace.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly.
Rhys could see her use a secondary hand to force the spear further into the deer.
"I'm fine." Probably. Though as he thought about it, he did feel something wet on his leg.
"No, no, no, no." Mehira manipulated him carefully into a supine position. "Your form weeps." Rhys glanced down, noticing the patch of red on his pants. One of his pant legs was torn to shreds. Oh. That would certainly be an issue. She pulled her spear free along with his sword and quickly sped along her way. Most of what Rhys could see was the nearly black sky with Mehira's stoic visage in front of it. She was awfully pretty for just a shell. He shifted in her grasp, and was suddenly struck by a shooting pain stabbing at his leg. "Do not move."
There was a crash of wood, then the sky was suddenly replaced with a ceiling. His bag was stripped off and then he was placed on something smooth and cold.
"I apologize for the lack of comfort," Mehira said.
"It's quite alright," Rhys replied. The pain stabbed back as if to answer his lie. He stifled a groan. Mehira pulled up one of his pant legs, exposing the wound. Large gashes ran through his limb, though despite the pain they didn't appear deep. Mehira seemed to freeze as the wound came to view, but then went into motion. She dug through his bag, finding what little medical supplies he had scraped together. She washed the wound with water, then wiped it up with cotton. The angel disappeared from view.
"My apologies, past protected," Mehira said. Glass shattered loudly. The angel came back with a black cloth and carefully wrapped it around his leg. She placed her hands on the wound, muttered something, then sighed. "Rhys? Can you hear me?"
"Yes, Mehira, I haven't lost that much blood." Though there was a chord of fear back in his mind at the idea of losing blood. He kept his easygoing demeanor up. "I'm more than alright."
"You are not. The claws of fear have sunk into your mind." Ah, right, she could see that after all. "I should have been far more swift. I should have crushed that-- that damnable thing." Her hand clenched.
"How would you have known the beast would split like that? I was certainly stunned." He tried to sit up but was firmly held in place by one of Mehira's larger hands.
"It is time for more rest. Movement is against your interests." Mehira's hand hovered tentatively over his wound. "I have had more than enough of my fears of the soul for today."
Rhys did as well. It didn't really occur to him how poorly that could've gone for him if he had done any worse. It was a wonder he was able to keep his leg, or his life for that matter. All the more reason to tell her, right? Rhys sighed. Was that truly a love or were you merely blinded by elegance?
"Fear, now doubt," Mehira said. "You will be safe." She was bound to find out eventually.
