Autonomous Skies, Chapter Three-Gian

Autonomous Skies, Chapter Three-Gian

He needed to go away.

He was too nice. Too charming. Too helpful. Every time he gave me that smile, that happy little smile, where his eyes crinkled up and seemed to shine, I wanted to hit him, but couldn’t. What was it about him that tamed me?

Tame? Where did that come from?

He happily carried the large sacks, and he was obviously subject to my whim; if I said, “Jump,” he’d ask, “How high?” with that shit-eating grin on his face. Still, some things didn’t click. Where exactly had he met my mother long enough to get a seeker? Why would she give it to him? Why did he get so shifty when I asked him about himself? A million and one questions ran through my mind, bringing about a strange buzzing sensation in my head. Because of this, I didn’t really speak to him. We walked in silence, presumably, each of us calculating the other. Despite everything he said, he wasn’t stupid. That much I know. But just how much did he know?

After a while of that peculiar, though not uncomfortable silence, I felt pain. I hadn’t been looking where I was going, and the next thing I knew, my arm had a large set of serrated fangs lodged in it. Stars flew in my sight as I screamed in pain; the teeth had scraped bone. A big, dog-like thing (Where did that come from?) had attached itself to me, and was shaking its enormous head in an apparent attempt to rip off my favorite appendage. I hit it with a gloved fist, but it held fast. It was then suddenly gone, pain searing up through my arm as a chunk of flesh was ripped out. Blood poured from the wound, but not for long. Donree pulled a large bandage out of his pocket and slammed it on my arm. It was instantly numb, and it stuck well. He gently, though rather quickly, shoved me backward so I landed on my butt.

“I was a little prepared, too! Stay there!” he shouted. For one, I listened; I scooted backward to avoid the fighting, and watched. Four more of the dogs had gathered, all focused intently on Donree. He had blades attached to his arms, bound at the elbow, with a small handle for him to hang on to. When did he get those? He must have been the one who knocked the dog off of me. Oh yeah. That still hurt, didn’t it? It was like remembering that I was injured made the gash sting painfully. In response, I gritted my teeth, clutching at it. Everything beyond the pain was gone, beyond my comprehension. Then, in a wave of relief, the pain subsided. Jesus, I’m still here! I thought. I managed to forced my eyes open, to watch Donree. He was slashing at the dogs; it almost looked like he didn’t know what he was doing, but looking closer, seeing how he slashed at their tender underbellies and throats with such precision, revealed a masterful and calculated rhythm. He wasted no movements. Swiftly, he caught the dog that had attacked me under the jaw, the sharp metal slicing up through the top of its head. He deftly tossed it off to the side and turned to the others. They lunged at him, and one each was caught on a blade. Before he could slide them off, though, the remaining two began their own attack. Stubbornly, I got to my feet, and with my good arm, swung at one of them, hearing it yelp as some of its ribs cracked.

“Get back down!” Donree shouted. I pulled my glove on tighter.


“Behind you!” I yelled, ignoring him. He spun and slashed open the last of the dogs’ throats. Blood spewed onto Donree, but it was indiscernible from his hair where it fell upon the strands. It dripped down his face, onto his shirt, staining it with circles of red. The first thought I had, though, was, I’m going to have to wash that again.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said sternly, breaking me out of my reverie. I saw that he was about to walk closer, but then, suddenly backed up as more dogs poured into the area. Ten, twenty, thirty, a hundred... how many, I would never be sure. I ran over to him as quickly as I could, still clutching my arm.

“I’m not too fond of getting myself hurt, either.” I turned my back to him and faced the beasts.

“Well, I guess neither of us is going to be happy, because this looks prett-y bad,” he said joyfully. How can he be like that? I wondered. How can he assess a situation like this with such joviality? He’s nuts!

“It was nice knowing you,” I said, shocked when I realized that I actually kinda meant it. I know he smiled.

“If we live through this--and I know we will--I’ll tell you something interesting.”

“You do realize that there are multitudes of them and only two of us, right? And that they’re moving in?”

“Yep. And I know we’ll live through it.”

“How?”

“Just a feeling.” He turned and smiled, then his eyes seemed to flash, along with his grin. “Oh, look, here they come.”

In large blurs, they leapt and slashed. More filed in. I felt claws gauging at my stomach, fangs sinking into my shoulders as I swung my fists. I hit one, two, three, hearing sharp yelps when I managed to make contact with their heads. I lost Donree, too busy trying to keep my head above the sea of spiky violet fur. I tried to shout for him, but realized as soon as the cold, biting claws pierce the meat of my calf that I didn’t have the time. I hit a few more before miraculously finding an opening. So I ran. I ran as fast as I could. I ran through the beasts, shoving them, trying to escape--but one caught my hair in its teeth, dragged me back, and threw me down. None of the others around it moved to hurt me, as much as they twitched and squirmed. They seemed almost... excited. The one that threw me stood on it hind legs. That simple action made me realize just how human they all looked. They could grin. They could stand. They even had fingers, short and stubby as they were. I went to sit up and start fighting again, but a few of them jumped, shoving me down by my shoulders. The standing beast bent over me, but was very suddenly and violently knocked to the side, a loud crunch as its hip cracked--then it all clicked.

Donree.

“What are you doing?” I shouted. I really wanted to know. He didn’t hear me, though. All of the animals jumped on him, tearing the hell out of his back, his arms, his whole body. I got up and started to hit them, using both hands, easily ignoring the pain in my arm. All I could see was blood, but whose (what’s?), I couldn’t say. One of the dogs latched onto my arm, the injured one, but I kept going at the others. The ones on Donree. More attacked my legs, and after a short while, I collapsed. They piled on top of me, hacking at me unmercifully. By some miracle, I found Donree, and pulled him to me. From somewhere, I heard a small, soft voice murmur something; then, the world was bleached white.


• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •


When I woke up, I first noticed the stinging pain I felt all over my body. The next thing to emerge in my mind was the visage of a little blonde boy peering over me. He was mostly a fuzzy shape at first, but as my vision cleared, I saw two, clear brown eyes gazing intently at me, though not at me. He was more looking through me, if that makes any sense. I sat up, but instantly wished I hadn’t. My head pounded angrily in protest to the sudden movement, my face stung, my abdomen spurted blood. Every goddamn inch of me ached.

“Oh, feckin' hell... who’re you?” My mouth hurt. So I slurred a bit.

The little boy studied me a moment longer before standing up. He wore a little beret-type thing, bright green, with swirls of lighter green and gold. It looked kinda like a dress, though I guess it was more of a robe-thing.

“My name is Lyle,” he said. He bowed cutely. “By what title are you known?” He was very proper for kid of, what, four or five?

“Uh, I’m Gian… Gian Petrasek.”

“A pleasure.”

“Yeah... oh, Jesus, where’s Donree?” It was like my brain suddenly clicked on as I quickly (and painfully, might I add) looked around. Lyle lightly tapped my shoulder and pointed toward a tree, at whose base I saw what seemed to be naught but a mass of blood. I winced as I sprang to my feet, rushing over to him, falling to my knees at his side.

“Donree...” I murmured. He slowly turned his head to look at me, and smiled.

“You... You’re all right,” he remarked, his voice both soft and weak. He reached toward me feebly, and I took his hand. I saw that he looked kind of surprised, and I noticed--he hadn’t planned on me taking his hand. I would’ve let go then, but he squeezed my hand so gently, I couldn’t let myself do such a thing.

“You should go,” he said, pausing. “I’m good, sunspot, I’m fine. I’ll... I’ll stay here and recuperate. Go on, I’ll slow ya down…”

I squeezed his hand back.

“No. I’m not going anywhere without you, you big lug.” Fat tears began to roll down my cheeks, but for once, I didn’t care. I just knew that I didn’t want him to die. I blinked the tears out of my eyes, looked down and saw the half-dry blood on his hand and cringed, mostly because I knew it was his. A hoarse sob then arose from my throat as his grip on my hand loosened.

“Ahem.”

I turned to see blurry shapes, which turned out to be Lyle and a bunch of trees.

“What?” I asked, infuriated that he would interrupt. He walked closer and looked at Donree.

“I think I can heal you, my friend--”

“Really? Hear that, Donree? You’ll be fine!”

“--but only somewhat. The most tragic of your wounding, anyway. You will still need medical attention.”

“Oh... well, thank you, anyway. It’s better than nothing.”

He huffed, but nodded, then held his hands out over Donree’s near-lifeless body. Lifeless... He muttered something under his breath, soft and low, and white light engulfed Donree, as well as the rest of the clearing. Everything was white. I couldn’t see, but I heard Donree’s voice, saying, “Well, that feels weird.” I crawled closer, toward the familiar sound that was his voice. Familiar? I felt something against my hand, a leg, it seemed. I waited for the light to fade, and I saw Donree, sitting up, a bloody hand to his bloody head. With no thoughts, I jumped on him, emotion welling up inside me. He inhaled sharply, and everything suddenly jumped back into the realm of common sense, and I pulled back, a hand to my mouth.

“You’re not dead,” I whispered. He looked kind of dazed and confused, but nodded.

“Yeah...”

Out of habit, I started checking him over, a relieved smile hijacking my lips. He looked at me and grinned, but there was something funny about it. I dismissed it, though, much too happy that he wasn’t dead.

“Why didn’t you leave?” he asked. I blinked, and felt my face flush.

“I--I didn’t want your death weighing on my conscience. And I don’t know my way to the Capital, and--”

He cut me off by pressing a finger lightly against my lips. “Never mind,” he said. “I’m almost sorry I asked. Almost.” His jokes weren’t as cheery as they usually were. He gave me that strange grin again and stood up, grimacing. I quickly rose and out my arm under his.

“Heh, you’re healed, too... Oh yeah, that light wasn’t just on me...”

“Oh, I am. Um, Lyle?”

“Yes, Madam?”

“Uh, which way is—”

He cut me off by pointing toward a set of trees, through which a path was twisted. I nodded and helped Donree walk away and back on our path to the Capital.


• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •


The small man watched as the two limped valiantly away. He almost admired them. Almost. Suddenly, though, as they disappeared from his sight, he felt a familiar pressure filling his chest. He opened his mouth, prepared for what he knew was coming.

He began.







He sighed deeply as he finished his prophecy. He looked to where he’d seen them last.

“It’s in your hands, now, Lovers. Save us.”