Since I have been on a staycation, I have been busy, busy writing. I wrote 11,104 words this week. This brings the total up to 50,516.

I had a lot of fun writing this week. Lots I would like to share from my various sessions this week.

Here’s some snippets:

              Zuriel cautiously pushed open the door of one of the huts. He could see the form of a child laying on the floor. His throat tighten as he knelt near the door. He bowed his head a moment, in part to pay respects and also to recompose himself. As he moved to stand, he was stuck suddenly in the shoulder, throwing him off balance. He fell on his back, pain radiating from the wound.

              “Zuriel!” Aila cried out, rushing to his side.

              Confused, Zuriel looked at his shoulder, trying to understand why a shard of ice was sticking out of it.

              “We’re under attack!” Michael cried, drawing his sword as the sorcerers began pouring out from the trees.

              “We’re surrounded.” Cyrus said as he rushed toward the tree line to support Michael and the naims being overwhelmed.

              “You need a medic.” Halvar said calmly as he knelt beside Zuriel opposite Aila.

              Zuriel shook his head, trying to sit up. “I’m alright.”

              “Stay down, you can’t fight like this.” Halvar said firmly. He looked around alertly, the sorcerers hadn’t drawn close to them yet.

              “That is true.” Zuriel said with a grimace. The pain was unlike anything he had felt before. It reminded him of the first battle where he had been unlocked, but that pain had been over in a flash. This was lingering, throbbing, burning pain that overwhelmed his mind. He felt in his pouch for some of the bleeding power Rafael had had him prepare for the campaigns. He laid the pouch on his stomach and took several deep breaths to steady himself.

              “What are you doing?” Aila asked, concerned.

              “I can’t just lay here.” He reached across with his right hand and took hold of the shard, pulling it out with a cry.

“What are you doing? You’ll bleed out!” Halvar scolded him, catching him just too late to stop him.

After a momentary panic that he would pass out, Zuriel found the pouch and poured enough to cover the freely bleeding wound. He laid back with his eyes closed a moment, giving the powder time to stop the bleeding.

Opening his eyes, he saw a sorcerer sneaking up behind Halvar, whose attention had turned to Zuriel. He was able to block the first blow, giving Halvar a chance to turn and run the sorcerer through before he was able to throw the spear he was forming.

“Thanks.”

“Help me up.” Zuriel said, reaching for Halvar’s hand. He took it and helped him to his feet, despite his fears that Zuriel was in no state to attempt to battle.

Now that they were all standing, Aila drew her sword. Zuriel put his hand on the hilt of his own, but shook his head, realizing he couldn’t hold it one handed. Instead he focused his attention on blocking and throwing chain lighting through the seemingly endless ranks of sorcerers.

“Dragon!”

Zuriel looked to the naim who had called out, following his gaze up, he saw a red dragon circling. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Someone link it!”

“It’s Egan. Samael’s dragon. The one he controls.” Tovi called from across the street where he was looking at the dragon a moment before the next sorcerer rushed him.

---

              That night, Zuriel lay in his bed. His arm was feeling significantly better, though it was still sore and healing. He glanced toward the window where he had noticed the soft glow that indicated Aila was out in the ruins of the Api Village. He wasn’t sure he could still call them ruins as she had done so much work there.

              He closed his eyes, saw the figure of the child that had brought him to his knees before the attack began. With a sigh, he threw the blankets aside and with some effort and a good deal of pain, he got himself dressed and headed out to see if Aila felt as badly about Fenny as he did.

              He came to the end of the trail, glancing toward the path that led to the pond Aila had started in memorial to Kyra. He didn’t see her there. “Aila?” He called, standing still listening for her reply.

              After a moment she emerged from the far end of the village, her eyes red. “Hey.”

              “I saw the light. You okay?”

              She shook her head and quickly crossed to him, burying her face against him. He wrapped his arms around her, both wishing she wouldn’t be so close and soaking in the feeling of her warmth against him. She pulled back, drying her eyes. “I passed through Fenny when I first came to Halcyon. I was with Akil and his men. Cyrus was one of them.” He began to walked slowly toward the nearest tree. “They were good people. They were kind and happy. They barely even carried water for the king, they were just kind. They liked everyone.” She paused. “And he just killed them.”

              Zuriel said nothing, he stayed where he was, watching her.

              She turned back toward him. “You know why I work out here?”

              “Uh, because it shouldn’t be dead.” He fumbled. He was sure it was deeper than that, but he didn’t have words for it.

              “Come here.” She waved her hand for him to follow her as she walked resolutely to the edge of the gathering. He followed her as she came to one of the first dead trees and planted her hands on it. A glow slowly spread across the bark, flowing down to the roots and up to the branches until they quivered and groaned.  As if spring had come, the branches budded and leaves opened across the branches with only one falling away, disconnected and unable to be restored.  Aila opened her eyes and stumbled back from the tree, Zuriel hurried to steady her with his good arm.

              “I’m alright,” she said turning back to face him. “This is why I come out here, to remind myself that death and darkness aren’t things.” She looked back to the newly alive tree. “See how quickly death gives way to life; darkness to light. Because darkness is just the place where light isn’t. Light is, and darkness isn’t. Death is just where life is absent because life is and death isn’t. I need to be reminded of that sometimes.”

              Zuriel looked at her with a sort of wonder. The last remnants of the lie he clung to, telling himself that it was a crush, that it was lust, fell away. No, it was deeper than that. It was more than the fact that she was beautiful, even linked to the earth. It was more than her humor or their pleasant conversations. She was the embodiment of light. Proof that good was a real thing. She stood before him with tear stained eyes, boldly hoping despite the darkness she had endured. And he loved her.

              And she could never know. She would never know that if he managed to defeat Samael, that it was her that gave him the strength and will to do it. His reward for this would be to watch her marry another and pray she never loved him the way he loved her. Hoping the one she married would be worthy of her. Try to forget, to let go.

              “Anyway, I feel better now.” She gave a small smile. “Walk me back?”

              “Yeah,” he said absently, offering her his good arm which she was already reaching for. She collected the orbs of light she had strewn about and held it in a single orb to light their way.

              He laid his hand on hers and glanced down the path to the pond as they passed it. In his heart he thanked her for keeping Aila going when the dark threatened to win.