Greetings all
Comicon was awesome, but I'm pretty tired. Loot pictures coming up soon!
As for today's update, please note, it may be triggering for some of you as it deals with a lot of child abuse. Other than that, enjoy the update.
Bolx was snapped back to the present as a sob escaped his mouth. Although it had never been official, they had wed themselves to each other that night to remain sane. It was stupid but it was everything they needed. However, it was also the reason that everything fell apart.
Bolx removed something from a pocket. A small, well-worn, folded photo. He opened it as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he had looked at it. It felt like it had been years. The black and white picture that stared back at him was the one and only sonar picture he had had of the child Kaiden had been carrying. A boy, or rather would have been a boy had the wasting disease not taken him before he could be born.
The Saith felt sick. If it hadn’t been for that night in the forest, the child never would have been conceived and he could very well still have been at Kaiden’s side right now. He hated himself for taking advantage of the situation, and for a moment, he even hated Kaiden for allowing it to happen. The child had never been named. He had never breathed air. He never got to meet his parents.
Bolx made to crumble up the photo but found a hand over his. Shocked, his gaze shot up to find Saita at his side. He started to stammer something, he didn’t know what, but she stopped him by hugging him so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe. She didn’t say anything as she stood holding him while his tears ran down her arms.
After some time, she wrestled the photo from his hand and sat next to him to look at it. Bolx couldn’t decipher the look on her face as she stared at the picture. It took him some time to realise that it was jealousy and sadness.
“This is the child you would have had with her?” she asked after some time.
He could only nod his head as he wiped at his tear-soaked eyes.
Saita put the picture flat on the table and smoothed out the wrinkles. She smiled softly and said, “We should frame it.”
The comment startled the Saith, and he didn’t know what to say, so she continued.
“He was a part of your life, even if he was unexpected and fleeting. Don’t discard the only thing you have to remind yourself of him.”
The human looked at him and sighed softly, “No more hiding stuff like this.”
She looked up at him, “We’re partners, and I need you to not keep painful secrets because you think it’ll hurt me.”
She tapped the photo, “He was part of your life, you can’t deny him.”
“I’m not.” Whispered Bolx. “I’m…”
“You blame yourself when there is no blame to be had. What ended your world wasn’t his creation, it was his death. Had Kaiden not wanted this result.” Saita tapped the photo. “She had means and ways to ensure it, but she didn’t. She saw a future with you. She must of, or she never would have allowed this.”
Saita then paused then whispered, “And she never would have sent you here.”
She looked at the photo again and there was a small smile on her face, making Bolx wonder what she was thinking of.
“Did you two have a name ready?”
Bolx shook his head. The last few months had been chaotic, and he had only learned of his son’s existence close to his demise.
“Did you ever consider a name for a future son?”
He nodded his head, “I would have named him after my father.”
Saita turned the photo over, so the blank side was showing. She tapped it and said, “Write it down.”
She then got to her feet, kissed the top of his head, and said, “When you’re ready. Come to bed.”
Hot blood flooded her mouth but try as she might, she couldn’t cough it out. Searing pain burned through her face and the back of her neck. She would have passed out if the blow to her head as she fell hadn’t jarred her back into consciousness. She couldn’t move and the blood kept pumping into her mouth, making it hard to breathe.
Across from her was a writhing mass of fur, which was howling and screaming while its paws and face dug into the dirt in pain. This wasn’t the first time her mouth had been flooded with blood, and it wasn’t the first time a furred creature was screaming its pain before her.
She didn’t remember how old she was when she had been hit in the face the first time. She was young, she knew that. It had partially dislodged a tooth. A tooth that would later be pulled from her mouth as she continued to cry about the pain she was in.
Her father had always been a mean drunk, and he had gotten worse after his wife had died, trying to give birth to his son. A son he needed to help him on the land; a son who died with his mother.
She had been young when blood filled her mouth, and she was thrown from her feet. He hadn’t wanted a daughter. It was something he had constantly screamed at her mother. A woman who was so badly broken by his abuse, that she didn’t even have the strength to defend their firstborn. She had done nothing but watch as her husband’s rage turned on his daughter. At least this night, he wouldn’t be beating her.
She had not understood why her mouth tasted of salt and copper, and so, spat out the taste, only enraging her father more. That was the first night of many that she would go to bed hungry, accompanied by a fresh bruise or missing tooth.
The bones in her arm were next. She had dropped a plate of dinner; her mother and brother had not been dead for long. The sound had set him off, and he had beaten her black and blue. The authorities had come that day because of the complaints of those who lived close by, and so the lies started.
She fell down the stairs. She ran into a wall. Kids will be kids. Hospital visits ended the same way, as he was friends with many in the community. If people knew what he was doing behind closed doors, they turned a blind eye.
She could have nothing; she had learned that the hard way. She had been given a dog for an arbitrary birthday she couldn’t even remember anymore. It had been a mutt, perfect for her, as that was how she had been treated.
Again, her mouth filled with blood and the dog whined in the corner until a boot put it out of its misery. Yet still people turned a blind eye. There was no place to hide, nowhere was safe. She had tried to run away, to seek a life elsewhere, she could count her age on both hands now. He always found her, and if it wasn’t him, it was a concerned neighbour who overlooked the bruises and ignored the rumours. She couldn’t remember what he had done to her, that was how bad the beating had been.
She knew this was wrong. No one should be forced to live this way. Was this normal? Was everyone treated this way? Dark thoughts would continue to invade her mind, but it was no longer about escaping. She wanted to end it, one way or another. She had seen him use a knife to slaughter a pig once. She knew how to use a knife; he still trusted her to use them. She was sure if she was fast enough then…no, no, no. Deep cuts on her arms, hidden by long sleeves.
Choking on the blood again, but this time, he wasn’t the one who had done it. These things were new. She hadn’t known creatures like them, but they had known about their people. They hated humans and wanted to destroy what was theirs.
The pain from the weapon that entered below her ribs was what had woken her. Their house was ransacked. There was blood everywhere. Had she fought them? She remembered trying to, but then he had arrived. He had been angry. He would be angry if he saw what had been done.
Moving was painful, and blood trickled down her side. She would have to clean the blood trail before he saw it, or he would make her mouth swim with blood again. That’s when she found him, curled up on the kitchen floor, cradling a picture. She couldn’t see what the picture was, but from the blood that covered it and the floor around him, she knew he was gone.
She didn’t know what to do. The house was a mess, and everything screamed at her to get it clean before he woke up, but she knew he would never wake up. He was dead. Still, that didn’t stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks as she sat down next to his body and just stared at the ruins of the home she had grown up in.
They found her five days later at the peak of summer. The blood in the home had turned black, and insects had invaded everything, including her. She didn’t remember those who came, or much of her time in the white room, but she remembered the looks people had given her and the hushed whispers.
There had been other bodies. Bodies like his but not like his. Those things that had attacked, they had not left, they were still there. She had killed them. She didn’t remember how. She didn’t want to know.
Men in uniforms tried to speak to her; to ascertain what her abilities were, but she refused to speak. He had told her that no one should ever know what she does. It was wrong and shouldn’t be shared.
Men in white coats tried to speak to her too, but she refused to speak. She didn’t speak for so long, those around her believed her to be incapable of speech. She could, but she wasn’t going to. Those who had kept their silence for so long finally talked about what happened behind closed doors. Ashamed that this had occurred or fearful of what would come from investigations.
She was never left alone. They feared her. She was tired and hurt, but every few hours there would be new people moving in and out of her room to ask questions. She just wanted to go home and clean the mess she had made.
She didn’t know how long she had been in the white room when she was assaulted by one of the men in uniforms. He grabbed her face and screamed at her. She didn’t know why, didn’t understand what he wanted. Then hot blood was on her tongue and for the first time in her life, it wasn’t her own.
Unable to move as thick blood ran down her throat and out the ruined side of her face, she was choking. Looking at the creature across from her that had finally calmed down, she was struck with a thought. They had kept their promise. Those that came after the men in uniforms and coats. She was going to be free after the Fell Dragon. They had never promised life, only freedom. Death was freedom. This was freedom.
The giant wolf got to his feet, half of his face covered in mud created from his blood and the dirt at their feet. His white bib on his chest was a mattered black and red mess with blood and dirt. He wasn’t howling anymore. He was staring at her as if expecting an answer from her for why. Why had she done this? Did he expect an answer? Could she answer?
She tried, but the blood she was choking on kept her voice within her mouth. How ironic that she would end with the same memory that started her life. Except this wasn’t the end, this was the start, a start to a life that was far more torturous than what she had been through. The pain and hell she would go through would make her beg to go back to when just her father was beating her.
And there you know a little more about the Fell Dragon. Fun times.
For those of you who have never heard of Fell Dragon you can find Book 1 here, Book 2 here, Book 3 here, and Book 4 here, Book 5 here, and Book 6 here
If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I love discussing my books!
As the series continues, it will combine with another book series I wrote. To avoid confusion about what is happening, introductory chapters will be introduced separately so that you don't have to be lost. However, these chapters will contain spoilers. You can find these chapters here:
Races Explained
Banishment
Royal Guard
Saasha’s Direct Family
Saith Characters Recap
Human Characters Recap
Alternate Timeline Brucel
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Haven't read the other parts yet? Follow these handy links:
Part 24>>You are Here>>Part 26
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