The Value of a Heartbeat

Be damned sure I won't forget about you

Quilla had her fighters take Garrin and the soldiers’ weapons. Reilyn sat, leaned against a tree, with his arms still tightly wrapped around Daffyd. He watched as Quilla went from fighter to fighter, soldier to soldier and treated their injuries with her magic and salves. 

The Eyll woman made it to Garrin, who gritted his teeth and watched her with disdain as she gently removed the arrow from his thigh and sealed the wound shut. 

Reilyn caught his friends staring at him, confused, pained, frustrated looks. He gripped the corpse in his arms tighter and closed his eyes to hold back more tears. Moments later, he opened his eyes to see the Eyll and Humans standing back up. Quilla ordered a couple of her fighters to tie the Humans’ wrists. She looked over at Reilyn and approached him. 

“It’s time to go, Reilyn’da.” 

Reilyn tried to stand, but couldn’t lift Daffyd, he struggled to keep his arms around the dead man. 

“Untie me, and I’ll carry him.” Garrin spoke, glaring down at Quilla. She politely nodded at the large man.

“Acceptable.” She walked over and untied the large man’s wrists. Garrin grumbled and made his way to Reilyn, taking Daffyd from the small man and carrying him with no trouble. 

Reilyn looked up at Garrin, Daffyd’s blood staining both of their clothes. “I’m sorry.” 

Garrin sighed. “Apologise again if we survive this.” 

The two followed as Quilla began to lead everyone to Tey’Umbra. 

---

Hours later, Quilla, her fighters, and her prisoners, made it to the woods surrounding Pembroke by sunset. She stopped and turned to Reilyn. 

“This is close to your town, yes?” She asked. Reilyn nodded. “Good. Bury your man here.” 

Reilyn hesitantly walked towards Garrin, then turned back to Quilla and held out his bound wrists. Expressionlessly, Quilla made her way over and unbound Reilyn’s wrists. She went to each of her prisoners and did the same. Looking between them she spoke. “I can’t offer you much time. I have my own dead to attend to, and Llyma’da is not patient,” she motioned to the fighter who carried the Eyll that Daffyd had killed. 

Garrin gently sat Daffyd down, and he turned to Quilla. “I’ll need my axe.” 

Quilla raised an eyebrow.

“To dig,” he finished. 

Quilla shook her head. “No need.” She turned to one of her fighters. The Eyll warrior nodded. 

“Mwaci ute dyfvis, re quont glarra uet re ynmus.” |Form a grave, dirt and ground.| The Eyll raised their hand over the ground in front of them. After their words evoked the spell, a large oval hole bagan to form. It cracked deeper and deeper into the earth, the the Eyll pulled their hand back and looked up at Garrin. 

“That uh…” Garrin stared at the small canyon. “I bet that comes in handy.” His gaze lowered and his brows furrowed, his eyes misted over as he looked at his dead comrade. “It’s time to go, pal.” He picked up Daffyd and lowered the body into the grave. The corpse fell the couple extra feet down that Garrin couldn’t reach, plopping into the dirt. 

Nia, Emyr, Jac and Catrin approached the burial. Reilyn walked up behind them, keeping his distance. 

“If uhh…” Jac spoke, wiping away his tears. “If anyone deserves a break, it’s you, Daffyd.”