:: 700+ ♥ Word Count ::
:: Believe it or not, my word count says 777 on this post. O.O ::
The moment she hit the ground it was the bookstore all over again. Her wild leap had thrown her clumsily at Argul and left her with nothing to show for it except a slashed arm. The moment she was on the snow the man seized the opportunity, pressing his foot on her stomach and holding her down with his weight. It was like the night was on repeat, again Orin could barely catch small breaths. And then the man began speaking... reciting some horrible, evil poem. Was it a prayer to the devil? A devil in which Orin now fully believed.
The blade came up again, and this time there was nothing she could do. No clumsy lunge to save her child, she could not even scream for help. And now her breath seized again, though this time it was not the man's weight that froze her lungs. It was terror.
Everything was in slow motion. The words Argul spoke were distorted in her ears. The dagger, the waxing moonlight that silhouetted the demon that trapped her. The swinging arc of the blade, and then the hot, crimson liquid that poured down on top of her. Orin thought she could see the very first drop, glistening in the starlight as it fell toward her face. It was as though she could see the very steam that rose from it as it soared from her child's body down onto hers. It hit her nose, and then it was lost in the spray of lifeblood that soaked her.
Orin twisted, trying to turn away from the sight of her pup's gaping neck. It was over so fast, yet had taken so long. With just a flick of his wrist the man ended the boy's life before it had even begun. Orin twisted around at the waist, throwing herself into the snow. She beat the ground with her palm, churning blood with frost into a slushy pool and wailing her airy cry.
The man was saying something else, but the words did not reach her ears. A wave of nausea washed over her, and for a moment little black specks began dancing in her vision and the world contorted around her. And then, as though echoing through a tunnel, she heard him... '...and never come back.' She did not hear it all, but she knew what he was saying. For a beat she managed to turn her eyes to the distorted figure of the man. He had grown since she glimpsed him last... now he was stretched out, a twisted demon that loomed over her. She took one last look at the limp body in his fist, and suddenly realized the pressure had been released from her midsection. When had he let her go?
Her son. She needed to save her son, she suddenly remembered. But she was staring at his limp body, she was covered in his infant blood. There was nothing she could do for him now. She swayed on the ground, and then... My daughters.
Orin sobered then. The world came crashing back into focus, and she found the strength to roll away from the devil that had killed her boy – that was setting her free now. She stumbled to her feet and without looking back, ran towards the edge of the clearing. She could do nothing for Demetrius now... oh Demetrius... Hot tears poured down her face, washing clear streams down her bloodstained cheeks. In a daze she entered the forest, and for a moment was stricken with fear that she would not remember where she had set her daughters. She spun in a circle, about to scream in silence once again, when, illuminated by the moonlight, she saw the yellow petals.
My girls... she rushed over to the bush of witch hazel and gathered them up in her arms. She checked to make sure they were alright. They were huddled together, but still tightly wrapped in the blanket. Orin held them close, a fresh stream of tears falling for her daughters. After all this, she could hardly believe her angels were okay. Two of them, anyway.
Then the mother spun around. She knew the way out of Cercatori D'Arte, and there was no question if she would leave. She had to leave. She could do nothing for Demetrius, but Juliet, Titania... they could be saved. The runt, and the sick girl... the keepers of her heart... they could be saved. She had to get them as far, far away as possible. In just another handful of minutes, Orin and her daughters crossed the borders of Cercatori D'Arte and were swallowed by the Ethereal Eclipse.
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