TANGO
I blink awake, my face feeling pressed and irritated. My dreamless sleep had be disturbed by something, though I’m not quite sure what. Yawning lightly, I roll onto my back rubbing my dry, and heavy eyes. As my vision focus’s, I register Asra, sitting up and oddly quiet, a hand over his mouth.
“Asra? You oka-”
“I’m fine. How’d you sleep?” His voice is raspy and when he tips of face up to look at me, his face has the sticky, yet shiny residue of tears trailing down his cheeks. His hand drops to the ground, tightening around his ankles.
His eyes are dark and swirling with grief, though shattered like glass at the same time. Beautiful, but heartbreaking. Reaching over, I gently brush a finger along his cold, and bony knuckles, hesitant but wanting to offer comfort in a way words couldn't provide right now. Asra inhales sharply, and blinks quickly, looking up, his eyes rolling up briefly before settle back on the area. His emotionless stare is a bit less shattered, though there's a tremor hiding beneath his blank expression that makes me question myself about what had happened while I slept.
We sit in silence for a few long moments, and before I get stir-crazy, I get up, rolling my shoulders. The coliseum hasn’t seemed to change much, the only difference from last night is that it’s eerily quiet. Asra sniffs harshly, dragging a hand across his sickly pale face. The weird soul looking things are still wandering around, wafting through the stank air.
“Fine,” I pause, resting my hands on my hips and rocking back and forth on my feet, wanting something to do. “Wanna go look around some…?”
I glance over my shoulder, attempting a weary smile. Asra nods and gets up, inhaling shakily. He walks over, his strides unsteady, and he nearly trips on the air, wincing as he catches himself on a pillar to his right. The wind picks up from out of nowhere, howling like a lone soul begging for forgiveness, haunted and lonely. A chill spreads down my spine, not unlike the confrontation with Pythos. Silence lingers, broken only by the distant clatter of loose stones tumbling from above as a shadow flickers high along the coliseum wall. Asra flinches, and jolts away from the light, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Another shadow slips across the stones, harsher this time, accompanied by a jagged scraping sound.
“Asra- we have to get moving.” Just as I say this, the shadows spasm once again, and he lets out a pained whine, shrinking away.
“No- there’s something there-“ He cuts off abruptly, and tries to get up. Despite the effort, he crumples to the ground, coughing heavily, silver capillaries growing more prominent. The shadows coalesce into a humanoid form, its eyes gleaming amber as it lopes toward us with a smooth, watery gait. . I shove Asra behind me, heart racing, as the figure halts just outside arm’s reach, tilting its head to study us. Its large eyes blink open, smaller ones along its snout shift, rotating to get a better view of the two of us. A thick, nauseating crackle focuses my attention as the creature’s jaws unhinge, distorting with a grotesque, sloshy sound. It pauses just as a small figure darts behind it, moving swiftly, yet low to the ground. Two auburn braids trail behind her as she ducks into a corner. The creature stiffens, and melts away. The small girl returns. She looks about 12, maybe younger. Her knees are scabbed and bruised, and dirt smears on her face.
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“Who are you?” Her voice, is soft but carries surprising weight. A knot forms in my stomach, starting to wonder if there were more feral 12 year olds running about.
Asra grunts behind me, and he slumps, muttering something about being dizzy.
“Tango, this is Asra. Yo-“ I trill out, as her voice interjects mine.
“Kay. Can you walk?” She looks nervously over her shoulder, her left hand straying to a leather bag at her hip.
“Yeah- yeah.” I stutter out, taken aback.
The twig turns on her heel and stalks off, flipping a knife of bone out, beckoning us with it. Asra exhales shakily and loops an arm around my neck, trying to pull himself up. His damp forehead presses against the back of my neck as I heft him up, padding after the girl.
Scraping and crackling follows us, and the scrap grows more and more nervous, her knuckles snowy around the bone blade. Asra’s head lolls onto my shoulder, and his laborious breathing shudders against my ear. After about five minutes, we reach a small gap in the wall, and she ducks into it. Light stems somewhere beyond the gap, and fresh air blows in. Though, more voices echo beyond. Hesitantly, I duck in, putting one hand over Asra’s head to protect him from anything sharp. The stone walls press in on us, frigid water drops coating the walls like moss. The water stings my skin, almost burning it, seeping into my pores and scraped flesh.
“You still alive over there?” My voice echoes through the darkness of the corridor. Asra’s fingers tighten on the hem of my shirt, weak as a hatchling.
We stumble into a well lit room, trees and plants lining forming walls. The ground is hard packed sand, green grass sprouting here and there. Intricately painted rocks form a spiral on the ground, tracing a path toward an impossibly huge way into the dense forest, light streaming through the green spring foliage. A shadow detaches itself from the painted rocks, swishing quickly over to Asra, who releases tension from his shoulders. About Five other people are doing things inside the cave. A stocky boy in patched clothes bends over a crate, yanking out dried meat, while a red-haired girl sweeps nervous eyes over us.
“Where’s Knox?” Our guide asks, gesturing us over to a moss tent. “She’s not back from town yet. Probably got caught up in riff-raff.” The red-haired girl’s voice is brittle, her hands knotting a frayed mossy green blanket.
“Ah. You two, come with me. Knox can patch up your friend when she gets back. I’m Asper by the way.” Asper nods, and gestures us inside a small cabin drenched in the smell of herbs and antiseptic.
