Page 9 of Ruby & Onyx

“To Manka,” everyone answers.

Amelia’s giggles interrupt the chorus of cheers. She and Rupe are huddled together in the corner underneath an overgrown orange tree to my right. Its fruits litter the ground like orange-speckled weeds, but they don’t seem to care.

She continues, “Without his favor, we would be nothing but dust. We pray that he may intervene in our lives with his rare and glorious gifts. May he grant us life, to have and to keep, for many years to come. Today we offer…”

I zone out almost immediately.

My mother always insisted that we stay for the entirety of her speech, but without her, I feel no qualms about leaving early, especially since the gods aren’t even in attendance. What’s the point of honoring them if they aren’t here to hear it? If any of the gods gave a rat’s ass about my life, then they can tell me themselves.

I slip out before anyone even notices.

Chapter 4

The hedges surrounding the cottage, as thick as an opaque wall with evergreen blossoms of various colors dotting the leaves, are rustling when I return from the feast. My mind immediately jumps to the least likely conclusion that prowlers somehow crossed through the barrier and came to get revenge on me for failing to save their fallen friend. But not every whistle of the wind or knock at the door is a threat. My fists clench anyway.

I creep forward, one silent tiptoe after another, and survey the area to find the source of the movement. It appears to be contained within one spot beneath the center hedge. The leaves are shaking like they’re being hit repeatedly in a spot low to the ground, much too small to be caused by a human. Could it be a conco?

“Hey!” I shake a branch in an attempt to coax the creature out, though I’m not sure what I would do in the event that it attacked. Probably a stupid move. “Hey!”

Much to my relief, a dog, tiny and docile, pops out of the shrubs. I almost laugh at the fear that I felt, all for this harmless little creature. He sits in front of me, tail wagging delightedly in frenetic sweeps, and waits for me to pet him. His wide smile opens, letting his tongue slump playfully to the side, bouncing with every pant.

My voice becomes nearly unrecognizable – jumping up an octave – as I bend down to pet him and ask, “Where did you come from?”

His long, floppy ears shake with every wiggle of his butt. His panting breaths run ragged as he tries to get my attention. He must have crossed through the barrier. How long was he out there wandering?

“Do you have a name?” Despite needing a bath, his fur is soft. He rolls over to his back, begging me to pet his belly. I scratch and rub his golden fur without hesitation. And once he’s satisfied, he sits up and stares expectantly at me. “Are you thirsty? Do you need some water?”

He barks his confirmation.

“Well, okay then. I need to go to the well. Wait here until I get back.” I head inside to grab a jug, but he follows right behind me. Without even pausing to gauge my reaction, he sits underneath the table and curls into a ball. Hardly a minute passes before he lets out a long, bellowing snore. I’m not sure if I should be concerned for the little guy’s health or impressed that such a powerful noise could erupt from such a tiny animal. It sounded like a… “Moose.” It came to me. “I’ll call you Moose.”

“I guess you’re here for the night, then.” I can’t help but smile as I watch his tiny body rise and fall with each breath. Watching him sleep so peacefully is like a sedative, bringing a comfort I didn’t know that I needed. How scary can the world be when such a fine peace exists?

I run to the well to fill a pale, ready for whenever he awakes.

* * *

Swords clang together, shrieking their shrill cries in every direction. Blood and carnage spread wide in every direction, stretching on as far as the eye can see. These once-green hills are littered with bodies – some still fighting for their lives, others already passed to the gods. The pungent smell of smoke, sweat, and death wafts through the air, so thick that it coats my throat and stings with every breath. It’s difficult to breathe, difficult to see, difficult to move. But I cannot let my guard down, not even for a moment.

A man advances on me, sword aimed at my throat, but he’s not fast enough. My heels press into the mud before I leap behind him, pivoting in the air and plunging my dagger into the soft spot in his neck. It sinks in so easily, cutting past layers of skin and muscle, until it hits bone. I use all of my force to plunge the dagger deeper until he falls at my feet, splashing mud onto the hem of my trousers.

A quick flash of light streaks from sky to earth. Thunder booms a bellowing roar, and a chorus of screams erupts like a war song. The sound builds to a dizzying crescendo as my eyes connect with a man covered in dried blood. I can’t tell whether that blood belongs to him or another. And, for a moment, even in the midst of this chaos, time stands still. For just one moment, we acknowledge each other’s presence like it’s a sweet gift from the gods.

He is alive.

He is breathing.

He is well.

He is familiar, yet I can’t seem to latch onto the memory that might explain who he is. It’s just out of reach. His name… What is his name? I can’t recall, but I feel that my heart might belong in his hands.

His tunic, which loosely covers his broad, muscular shoulders, is slashed open across the center, exposing a bloodied gash across his abdomen. The dark hair that now falls into his eyes is caked in filth. And yet, he is the most beautiful man that I have ever seen. I can barely stop my heart from leaping out of my chest.

He advances towards me, leaping over the bodies that litter the ground like a dance choreographed for the two of us. A bloodied knight makes a move on him, but his sword brings the knight’s life to a swift end as it plunges into his gut. He removes it as quickly as it went in before continuing the dance, even more focused and determined now.

When he finally reaches me, my arms instinctively wrap around his neck, and he sweeps me up with his free arm in one graceful movement. His body feels hard and warm against mine. All of the carnage falls away as I lean into him, turning my chest to press flush against him.

I stare at his chiseled jaw and the dimple at the tip of his chin, admiring the features that feel so familiar, before he presses his lips firmly to mine. It is hard and passionate, as if he’s entangling our souls together with every sweep of his tongue. The swell of want and need rolls through my body and knots in my core, begging to be released.

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