Leena
Pruthvi snarled, throwing himself in front of Leena and blocking her passage. He clamped his jaw onto the attacker's arm and crushed the bones with his canines. The man screamed, drops of blood pattering down onto the ground. Pruthvi growled and the man retreated, quickly staggering inside the cave.
A couple of creatures dove screeching and capering about each other.
The cool air wafted in from the breezes blowing outside and Leena felt her breath ragged, lips trembling and eyes twitching. The slash wounds she had on her body had not healed yet. They were slowly turning into scars and the feeling included the presence of peeling skin. She was trying to stay calm and reserved, sucking down the profuse exhaustion and physical fatigue she'd received from the beatings a couple of hours ago. Her current disposition was so very unlike hers. The traumatic incident, the one she had barely escaped from going through the process Almourah, had brought the aura of seriousness and she wondered if she could ever go back to being herself.
Pruthvi kept one of his forelegs doubled up for a long time, ready for the next cautious step. He walked upright and stiffly on the icy ground, ears prickled and eyes having a fixed stare forward into the cave's deepness. When there was no other prey approaching he relaxed, stretched, shook himself, and circled several times on the spot. He then trotted beside Leena. Together, they made their way into the cave.
Having been ripped off his stone, he was desperately dependent on the alternative kinetic power. His fur was thin and clung to his frame, enough only to protect him from the chill. His sprint occasionally faltered and that was the only sign he showed of the enervation.
Faint sunlight blanketed the walls on either side. The ground felt hard and smooth like marbles. Low scuffling sounds emanated from deep inside the cave but were drowned out by the sound of their steps thumping against the ground. This very cave was hardly a hidden oddity. They had visited this place before, Leena vividly remembered. It had been by an accident then, and was a planned visit today. Pruthvi and Leena once again teamed up, in the hope to find their kid, and if possible, finding Pruthvi's stone and the Maiden's Cup.
The cave suddenly blazed with dim light.
A few men gathered up, muskets hanging from their shoulders. Their behavior switched from submissive to asserting themselves. Pruthvi appeared poised to pounce. Leena gave Pruthvi the chance to strike first. She stayed back, fearless and feeling the warmth of her Aquamarine. As soon as the men pointed their muskets at them, Pruthvi ran in a zig-zag manner. Echoes of the loud swift thuds resonated. Bullets fired which he cleverly escaped. Growling, he snapped and lunged toward them, repelling every attack that came his way. He bit them, scratched them, dug his claws into them, and continued the process until they became defenseless. He went for their necks and throats and shoulders. Leena found his attacks a tad bit viscous. Rage was spurring him on. He wouldn't stop, and she let him rage on. They needed their son back...anyhow.
The muskets were still a threat. A man crawled trying to reach for the weapons. Leena called for help from her Constellia, her shrill voice echoing through the thick tension in the air. Kumbh emerged from the black smoke. He swirled the water-filled pot, and Leena flipped her hand. A heavy stream of water gushed up in jets and spurted as though from a broken water pipe. Her Formation veered the muskets away. Water sloshed onto the ground. Sharp watery pricks belted toward the men with the force of the charging bull. The sharpness of the water cut through them like falling icicles and the men hollered succumbing to pain.
Stillness dawned.
Pruthvi changed back to human form. He dropped down to his knees and had a bit of chesty wheeze and cough. Leena kneeled beside him, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. He was shaking with rigors, then let out a resigned, weary sigh. His upper body sagged down, face all scrunched up.
YOU ARE READING
(Book 6) Hayden Mackay and The Third-Eye of the Pancharatna
Fantasy"Mrs. Zutshi, how different was Zarina Khan from you? She was a clairvoyant, that makes her a witch too, right?" "Mages have their own history, Hayden. They have categories too. Since the time of Lady Chandrika's authority over the sections of the p...
