A natural musk intermingled with the dominating presence of sweat and salt carried through on the wind. If the roar was the envelope containing the details on this beast, then the smell was the wax seal.
“Ok…” Came Domino’s voice. She did not like how it sounded. Beneath the quiet, it was riddled with nerves and fear. At least he had a plan. Whether it was a good plan or not remained to be seen. Acantha turned her sea glass gaze up to him, perfectly mirroring that same terrified expression women possessed when faced with danger. Big, round, innocent eyes. Her human fingers curled uncertainly around his jacket. The silence was almost deafening. “First you-…”
She barely had time to register what he had said. Something hard and heavy slammed into her chest, and it took her a moment or two to realise that it had been Domino. Acantha stumbled on uncertain feet. Once, twice, before finding something caught underneath them that sent her tumbling to the ground. The grass beneath was cold and damp with dew, she could feel it slipping and sliding between her fingers, but that was a secondary thought.
“Run!”
Acantha, for a moment, did not know whether to listen to him or not. If she ran, she could save herself, but would she be dooming Domino to death? The beast itself was much like Acantha. There was only one thing on its mind. Hunger. As though something had snapped her back to reality, Acantha scrambled to find purchase with her feet. She would not run far, but she would run far enough to make him think she had. By the time she got herself upright and started down the hill at a healthy jog, the beast had charged.
She could hear its feet pounding against the damp dirt. She could feel the earth vibrating under its monstrous weight. Against her better judgement, she turned. Just to check to see if Domino was okay.
“Oh.”
His voice was like a cannon, echoing loudly across the barren plain, followed by a harrowing roar from the beast. Acantha could not see him, but she did not need to see him to know what had happened. The hill had been flooded. With an acrid, coppery smell that Acantha was incredibly familiar with. The little blackbird sighed. A deep, guttural sigh. She could leave him to rot and it would not be her fault. Father would see it for what it was, an attack by a beast that was not her. Domino might even get recognition for protecting a member of the royal family from certain death, but what good would that do him if he were dead himself?
She stood on the incline of the hill for a moment or two. Tapping her feet into the squishy earth beneath as she hummed over what to do. Save him or run. Save him or run.
Without realising it, the body had made the decision, with the shadow quietly backing it up. Acantha’s feet carried her back up the hill at a leisurely pace, as though she were simply taking a stroll. When she reached the top of the hill again, she was met with a grim scene. Domino crumpled on the floor, clutching a gushing wound. The beast standing proudly over him, its horn glistening with crimson dew. “Oh dear.” Acantha said, in the same sickly tone she had used for the spunky little guy. “Poor little chick.” A moniker her Father had grown accustomed to using when she failed, and a moniker that seemed to fit Domino perfectly in this instance.
Her voice attracted the beast, who’s great lumbering head had begun to turn in her direction the moment she had spoken her first word. Acantha did not notice it. Or ignored it entirely. Her focus was solely on Domino. He looked rather sad, and she could feel the pain rolling from him in waves, even if the shock was preventing him from feeling it. She could handle his wounds, or at least she thought she could, but first the beast.
It was scuffing its huge hoofs against the floor, leaving trenches of mucky brown sludge in its wake. Acantha, finally, turned to face it. As it readied itself to charge, she brushed off the flakes of mud from her dress. As it began to attack, she flicked her ebony locks from her eyes. Lowering its head, it seemed it had the same designs upon Acantha as it had upon Domino. Acantha could only giggle at it. A burst of sweet, trilling laughter that sounded much like the children in the Illyrian market had.
The horn got within an inch of her flesh, but before it could find purchase the raven wings upon Acantha’s back and burst free from their prison. A large wingspan beat heavily three times, carrying her up just enough to avoid certain death. With all the momentum put behind that one attack, the beast was unable to stop itself from overshooting. Its cumbersome weight carrying it far further than it had expected. Acantha took her chance in the split second it took for the beast to stop itself and turn around. The wings lowered Acantha to the ground again, but the feet that touched the floor this time were far different from the tiny human ones that had been there a moment ago.
Thick, dangerous talons protruded from three bony structures that grew from her heels. Acantha herself was covered head to toe in slick black feathers that ruffled as she settled. Her hands were now deathly looking claws, so sharp even glancing at them was likely to cause a wound. With near sickening speed, Acantha charged for the beast. Where it had left trenches, she barely touched the ground. Her body bent in a sickening way as she lent forward to gain even more speed. The beast noticed what she was doing and began its own charge, tilting its head down to brandish its horn once more. Acantha had been expecting it. The beast was nothing more than what it appeared. A beast. If the body had its way, she would have done the same thing, but she and the shadow were cleverer than that.
In the split second where the beast expected its horn to find purchase again, Acantha dropped to the ground. She slid across the muddy ground, sending sprays of thick brown liquid up in sprays. One clawed hand sunk into the ground to keep her steady, and the other she stuck gleefully into the soft spot beneath the beast’s chin. A shower of scarlet erupted from the wound, joining the splatters of mud across Acantha’s sleek feathers, but she did not care. Once the claw had made its mark, her teeth followed quickly after.
What ensued was almost like a slow-motion horror holofilm. If what the beast had done to Domino was grim, then what Acantha did to the beast was worse ten-fold. By the time she was done, you could barely recognize that it had been a beast at all, and while not quite as satisfying as humans, Acantha found her hunger sated. It was then that she remembered the limp and very nearly lifeless form of Domino. Acantha gasped to herself and broke off from her meal to find him.
When she did… he was almost dead. Almost. “Oh dear…” She said again, but in a far softer tone. She fell to her knees beside him and took in the damage. A million broken bones, a wound that would not stop leaking, and bang to the head that Acantha would have bet knocked a few memories out. “Now you really are hurt.” She was not even sure he could hear her. With this much damage, it was a wonder he was even alive. “That was very brave and very stupid.” She spoke as she ripped up the tattered remains of the dress that had once clothed her. The thick squares of silk she used to press firmly against his wound. "But don't worry, my hero..." Another giggle. "I'll save you back."
In a way, he was incredibly lucky that Acantha had decided to eat the beast. If she had been faced with this scene before she defeated it, then there was no doubt that Domino would have been her meal instead.
She had seen Father do this many, many times. When Acantha had grown out of hand and attacked the wrong person or had taken it too far with the right person. It was simple. Ebony eyelids closed, shutting out her sea glass gaze as she focused on the ebb and flow of the dark side. It surrounded them eagerly, always finding a comforting home in the wake of death. This was the shadow’s forte, and while it had no mind for healing, Acantha allowed it to take over. With expert hands, it drew its strength from Acantha as it commanded the dark side to stitch his wounds together.
By the time she was finished, he would be good as new, and she would be the same sweet princess he had rescued from the depths of a shipwreck. Acantha could only hope that his wounds had been severe enough to render him unconscious from minute one. Otherwise, there would be a lot of explaining to do…
