The rain came down hard, soaking the battlefield, washing away the blood and grime that covered the ground. Giselle lay in Mike's arms, her body limp and lifeless like a rag doll. Her once vibrant eyes were dull, staring into nothingness. She was broken—physically, mentally, and emotionally. Mike's heart clenched as he held her, feeling the raw, unbearable grief radiating from her small frame.
"Giselle…..... hang on, please," Mike whispered, his voice choked with emotion. He knew she couldn't hear him, but he needed to say it, needed to hold on to the hope that she'd be okay. He couldn't lose her.....not after everything.
Taking a deep breath, Mike gathered his magic, feeling the familiar hum of power course through his veins. He used his telekinesis his ability to lift and move objects without touching them. With a simple flick of his wrist, he lifted Giselle gently into the air, her body floating as if it weighed nothing. He spotted a nearby cave, dark and empty but safe enough for now. He guided her floating form toward the entrance, ignoring the fatigue already settling into his muscles.
Inside the cave, the sound of the rain softened to a dull roar, the air cool and damp. Mike lowered Giselle carefully onto the ground, his hands trembling slightly as he crafted a makeshift bed from leaves and his own cloak. He laid her down with the gentleness of someone handling the most fragile piece of glass, brushing a strand of wet hair from her pale face.
"I need to clean her wounds," he muttered to himself, his voice shaky. He knew it was necessary, but it didn't make it any easier.
"Forgive me," he whispered, as he began peeling away the torn, blood-soaked fabric of her dress. Her body was covered in cuts and bruises, each one a painful testament to the battle she had fought. Mike soaked a cloth in water from his flask and began wiping away the dirt and blood, his touch as soft as he could manage.
Giselle stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. Her gaze was unfocused, clouded by pain and exhaustion. She looked up at Mike, her expression twisted with a mix of anguish and fury. "You…..... it's your fault," she spat, her voice thick and slurred. "You should have.....… protected me!"
Before he could react, she lashed out, slapping him across the face. The sound echoed sharply in the cave, a crack that seemed to reverberate in the silence. Mike's head snapped to the side, his cheek burning with the sting of her blow. He didn't move, didn't flinch. He just stared at her, his eyes filled with a deep, sorrowful sadness.
"I'm sorry, Giselle," he whispered, his voice breaking. He knew she didn't mean it ...knew she was hurting, lashing out because she had no one else to blame.
Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she turned away from him, curling into herself. The sight shattered him, but he forced himself to keep going, to keep cleaning her wounds despite the shaking of his hands. He dressed her in his spare shirt, wrapping her tightly in his cloak to keep her warm.
With a heavy sigh, he moved to the entrance of the cave and cast a barrier spell. The protective magic shimmered briefly before becoming invisible, sealing off the cave from any outside threats. The effort drained him, but he couldn't rest. Not yet.
He stepped outside into the pouring rain, his own exhaustion creeping in like a slow, inevitable tide. Closing his eyes, he expanded his magical senses, searching the surrounding forest for anything that could help. He felt the pulse of life all around him....the steady beat of the trees, the faint energy of the rain-soaked earth. And then he sensed it: the faint, unmistakable glow of a rare plant deep within the forest.
The Arcanum Fern. A plant known for its incredible restorative properties, capable of replenishing a person's magic reserves completely. It was Giselle's only chance.
Mike didn't hesitate. He couldn't afford to. He broke into a run, the muddy forest floor slipping beneath his boots. The rain lashed against his face, stinging his eyes, but he pushed forward, ignoring the cuts and bruises forming on his own skin. He had no time to waste ...not when Giselle's life was on the line.
The forest grew darker as he ventured deeper, the rain a constant, pounding roar in his ears. Branches whipped at his face, leaving thin, bloody scratches. The ground was uneven, full of hidden roots and rocks that tripped him up, sending him sprawling more than once. Each time, he got back up, pushing forward with grim determination.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he stumbled into a clearing. In the center stood the Arcanum Fern, its petals glowing faintly in the darkness, as if lit from within by a soft, magical light. Relief washed over him for a split second...until he heard the low, rumbling growl behind him.
He turned slowly, and his heart sank. A dragon. It was massive, its scales shimmering like polished steel, its eyes two burning coals of anger. It lowered its head, baring razor-sharp teeth, blocking his path to the plant.
"Of course," Mike muttered, his voice barely audible over the rain. He was too drained to fight this beast with raw power—he'd have to outsmart it.
The dragon lunged, jaws snapping shut with a deafening crunch. Mike dodged to the side, rolling to avoid its claws. He picked up a large stone and threw it to the left, creating a loud thud. The dragon's head whipped around at the noise, giving Mike a brief window of opportunity.
He sprinted forward, his hand closing around the stem of the plant. But before he could retreat, the dragon's tail lashed out, catching him across the side. He flew through the air, slamming into a tree with a sickening crunch. Pain exploded through his body. His left arm dangled uselessly, broken. Blood poured from a deep gash across his face, blinding him in one eye.
He forced himself up, even though his leg gave out beneath him....shattered. He was a wreck, barely able to stand. But he held the plant in his good hand, clutching it like a lifeline. He squeezed every last ounce of his mana into a levitation spell, using it to fly back toward the cave.
He landed hard at the entrance, collapsing in a heap. He crawled over to Giselle, cradling her head as he squeezed the juice from the plant into her mouth. "Please," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. "Please wake up."
Giselle's eyes fluttered open, color slowly returning to her cheeks. She took a deep, shuddering breath, the magic of the plant coursing through her veins. But as her senses returned, she smelled something sharp and metallic....blood.
"Mike?" she called out, panic lacing her voice. She looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Outside the cave, the rain continued to fall, washing away the bloodstains on the ground. The storm raged on, but inside the cave, there was only silence. A silence that echoed with the memory of a man who had given everything for the woman he loved, disappearing into the night without a trace.