David Dalglish: Weight of Blood

Aurelia tried to say something, tried to comfort him, but no noise came from her throat. She was dying.

“No!” Harruq shouted. He pulled out one of his healing potions, yanked off the cork, and forced the contents down Aurelia’s throat. The elf gagged, retching up half of it onto her neck and chest. Harruq got out his last potion but could not open it for the shaking of his hands. Desperate, he put it down, picked up one of his swords, and shattered the top of the vial. He flung the potion back to Aurelia’s mouth, nearly shredding her lower lip on the broken glass. More of the silvery-blue liquid poured down her throat.

With nothing left to do, Harruq sat there, clutching her hands in his and waiting. The seconds crawled slower than the longest of years. He didn’t care if anyone came and saw him, not even his brother. His tears fell onto her bloodstained dress. For far too long she did not move. His heart cried out in agony. It was too late. He had killed her.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to her. “Forgive me, please, if you can…”

“What are you babbling about?” the elf asked, her eyes cracking open. Harruq tried to smile, but a sob came out instead. He hugged her, his forehead pressed against hers.

“Help me up,” she said. Harruq did as commanded. When she was standing, he grabbed his blades and sheathed them. She leaned all her weight against him, and such close contact only deepened his guilt and anger. He knew she watched him, and he wiped away his tears as quickly and subtly as he could.

“Why, Harruq?” she asked him. The half-orc shrugged.

“We…Qurrah…I still don’t know.”

“No,” she said, leaning on her staff. “Why did you save me?”

He kicked his toes into the dirt, unable to piece together the chaotic mess inside his head and heart. All he could think of was what his brother had told him to do.

“Qurrah said to kill you if I didn’t love you…”

“Yet you didn’t,” she said. Harruq nodded, but said nothing else.

“ Hana fael! ” a voice cried from far down the alley. Both turned to see an elf raise his bow and fire.

“Look out,” Aurelia said, shoving Harruq aside. The arrow hit her breast and reflected off as if hitting stone. She glanced at Harruq, her face a mixture of anger and fear.

“Others have seen you kill, haven’t they?” she asked.

Harruq could only shrug. More shouts came as two other elves turned the corner. Aurelia swore as she heard what they said.

“They call me traitor,” she said. “I protected you, and now I am a traitor.”

The half-orc stepped before her, preparing his swords. “They won’t touch you.”

“I know,” Aurelia said, summoning the last bit of magic inside her. A tear in the fabric of reality ripped open, swirling with white and blue magic.

“Get in,” she yelled.

“What about Qurrah?” he shouted.

“Go inside, you dumb fool!”

She cracked him across the back with her staff. Harruq stumbled into the portal and vanished. Aurelia stepped in after, arrows landing all around her.

A s Qurrah watched, the blue portal closed, leaving him alone and hunted in a town full of enemies.

“Brother, how could you?” he asked, dread clutching his throat. Elves were running down the alley, yelling in their language. Qurrah ducked back around, cursed his brother, and then darted to the nearest home. The first one had locks, as did the second, but the third was unbarred. He hid inside as the shouts of search parties went rushing past.

Qurrah climbed the stairs to the second floor, sat down beside a bed, and then in silence pondered his fate now that he was alone.

Far from town, a blue portal tore open above empty grass. The big half-orc tumbled out, followed by a flustered Aurelia. Upon her exit, the portal closed, swirling away as if it had never existed. Harruq groaned, spitting out dirt that had made its way into his mouth.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“About two miles east of Woodhaven,” she told him. Harruq glanced around, unable to see the town in the distance.

“So that’s how you always showed up behind me,” he said as he got to his feet. “That magic…blue thingie?”

“That magic blue thingie is a portal,” Aurelia said, her arms crossed over her chest as she held her elbows. “And yes, that is how I did it.”

Harruq shrugged, glancing about as he tried to get his bearings. A thought hit him, harder than any whacks of Aurelia’s staff.

“Qurrah!” he gasped. “You’ve got to send me back.”

“I can’t,” Aurelia said, her eyes fixed west.

“What do you mean you can’t?” He stormed over and grabbed her arms. “Send me back, I’m telling you to! Qurrah’s all alone, and they’ll kill him if I don’t help him!”

“I can’t, Harruq, I can’t!” she shouted, pulling back from his hands. “I have no strength left to open another portal. You, and he, will have to wait until I get some rest.”

“How long will that be?”

“Tomorrow morning,” she said.

He raged and sputtered but could think of nothing to say or do. Finally, he started walking.

“Where are you going?” she asked him.

“To get my brother,” he said without turning around.

“They will kill you,” she shouted. “They will see you and kill you. You do your brother nothing by running off to die.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” he screamed. He whirled around, his helplessness showing on every feature of his face.

“Have faith in him,” she said. She pulled a strand of hair from her face as the wind blew across her. “I have given up everything for you, Harruq. Don’t you see that? My friends, my family, my home; they are all gone from me. Because of you. Don’t make it all for nothing.”

Harruq’s anger and frustration simmered and swirled in a dying fire. He could not argue with her, not about that. Even he could see what she had sacrificed to save his life.

“Where do we go?” he asked, his voice revealing his defeat.

“We’ll figure it out in the morning. For now, we travel north. Your brother will be fine, I promise.”

He nodded but said nothing. The two traveled in between the hills, exhausted but unwilling to stop their movement.

“Why did you fight the elves?” she asked when their silence had stretched for more than half an hour.

“It’ll be a long story,” he said.

“We have time.”

He chuckled. “Aye, I guess we do.”

He told her of Velixar and his plans. He told her of the strength, weapons, and armor granted to him. Hesitantly, he recounted killing Ahrqur and the people of Cornrows, a fresh wave of shame filling him as he thought of both.

“What part did Ahrqur play in this?” Aurelia asked. “Was he enlisted by this Velixar?”

Harruq shook his head. “Me and Qurrah killed him, then Velixar brought him back and sent him off to the king. It was very much unwilling on his part. That guy was me and Qurrah’s dad, you know that? We killed our own dad, and never even knew it while we did.”

She frowned, and deep lines of exhaustion marred her beauty.

“Tonight we need to have a serious talk,” she said. “For now, I’d prefer we speak of lighter things.”

“Sure thing,” he said. They spoke no word of Woodhaven, Velixar, or the battle that morning for the rest of the day.

T he sound of an opening door stirred him from his slumber. Qurrah glanced around, furious that he had fallen asleep. How much time had passed? An hour? Five?

“I cannot be so weak,” he muttered to himself. Footsteps echoed from the first floor. One person, he guessed, most likely an elf judging by the design of the building. Qurrah stood and readied his whip. He would not cower in hiding. This was his home now. He would defend it.