Axel was whipped out into the air like a ragdoll, arms flailing around aimlessly and before he realized it he was slammed on a jagged rock.
Something inside his ribs cracked with a wet snap, and pain tore through his chest like lightning. Air punched out of his lungs, leaving him gasping and wheezing as he slid onto his back, dust and grit sticking to his sweat-soaked skin.
He couldn't move. Every breath felt like knives grinding under his ribs. Even blinking hurts. Through the haze, he caught sight of the sky twisting above him, two monsters locked in chaos.
The serpent was coiling and thrashing, scales ripped open and glistening with dark blood.
The dragon — that obsidian nightmare — had it midair, talons digging into its body. The serpent still writhed, tail cracking through the air like a whip, snapping against the dragon's scale, but it was hopeless.
Axel blinked again. For a heartbeat, he swore the serpent was grinning. The sight was so eerie, he believed he was hallucinating.
But just to be sure he blinked again, squinting, trying to look closer but instead coughed — hard. Blood sprayed from his lips, hot and metallic, dripping down his chin.
I guess it took that "we die together" thing seriously, he thought grimly.
But no. He wasn't dying here. Not on this gods-forsaken cliff.
Axel rolled off the rock, each movement sending a shockwave of agony up his spine. He hit the ground with a dull thud, gritting his teeth so hard he felt them digging into his gums. His vision pulsed, bright, dark, bright again, but he dragged himself forward.
The cave was there, just ahead, waiting like a dark mouth, it should have been terrifying, but that was his salvation.
The snake had thrown him not too far from the cave, perhaps believing the slam would incapacitated him, keeping him from the cave, at least till the dragon was done with it.
"Smart snake," he hissed under his breath, "but you made a big mistake."
He dug his fingers into the dirt, dragging himself inch by inch, ignoring the way his broken ribs grated with each pull. For my sister, he thought. His vision swam. For Dezon… Rage gave him another burst of strength.
The tip of his fingers were bleeding at this point, raw flesh digging into the dirt.
But, he was almost there — his head brushing the shadow of the cave — when a heavy crash shook the ground. Dust rained down from above. They were back.
Axel didn't stop. He clawed forward with everything left in him, every nerve screaming, his breath ragged and shallow. His chest felt like it was caving in, but somehow...somehow... he made it inside.
Another coughing fit wracked his body, blood dripping down his arm. Not enough… he thought weakly. Need to increase the chance of survival.
He turned his head, vision swimming toward the faint glint of the Gishiki by the cave's left edge. He stretched, yet it seemed so far. "No… not dying because I'm lazy," he muttered through clenched teeth.
With a grunt, he rolled. Then again. Pain flared with every movement, but he kept going — roll, gasp, curse, roll — until his hand finally found the blade, his back against the wall of the cave. The trembling stopped. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt and exhaled, sweat pouring down his face.
He lay there motionless, eyes locked on the cave mouth. If the dragon appeared, that was it. He had nothing left.
Any god out there? god of luck, he thought. I've never prayed before, but if you're listening, please don't let that thing find me.
Minutes crawled by, no seconds felt like minutes. The silence was worse than any roar. Then, a gust of wind, a distant beat of wings, and finally nothing.
Axel's lungs shuddered with relief. Somehow, against all odds, he'd survived. A laugh bubbled up, weak and cracked. "Guess I'm too stubborn to die," he whispered.
The world tilted sideways. The exhaustion finally hit him all at once, pain, fear, adrenaline, all collapsing into blackness. His body jerked once, a faint cry leaving his lips before everything went still.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
****
Axel's brow quivered as his eyes fluttered open, he slowly sat up against the cave wall, his head pounding, his throat felt like sandpaper, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
He groped for his backpack, grabbed the water bottle, and drank, gulp after gulp, until nothing was left but air.
He slumped back, panting.
The brief relief vanished under the returning ache. His ribs burned with every breath; his shoulder throbbed with a dull, fiery sting.
He looked down at his shoulder, the wound was still there, thankfully it was cauterized preventing infection and bleeding although he still couldn't figure out who did that.
He tried to touch his back but he hissed in pain radiating from his left ribs, that's what broke huh, he looked down, the area looked purple and swollen.
He groaned and sat back, a stinging pain from his back reminding him of his encounter with the bat-like creatures.
I have to get that covered before it becomes infected, if it hasn't already.
Axel's hand touched his back, he frowned as his hand grazed on the area of the wound, it was rough, not fresh, he withdrew his hand, there was no blood, did it clot itself, or, his eyes narrowed as he touched the cauterized wound on his shoulder.
"Just as I thought, it's the same texture." He muttered.
But how, that's not natural is it, a wound doesn't heal like that, he looked down, this is obviously from fire, a crude but effective method to seal wounds, crude but still requires humans or something sentient to do it, and it obviously isn't me.
He looked warily around the cave, scanning for anything off, but there was nothing.
"Great," He muttered, "now something is following me around, cauterizing my wounds."
Axel sighed, "well I can't do anything about that, if anything I should be glad considering it's just sealing my wounds not killing me, for now, I need to treat my other wounds," he looked down at the lacerations on his hands.
With all the chaos and him running around, not to mention adrenaline, he had forgotten or ignored the small lacerations on his hands.
"I must have used up my lifetime of luck," he muttered, considering I got off with just lacerations from that fall, he joked to himself, not even believing that was possible.
Pulling over the Gishiki, he used it to rip the remaining connection of his now tattered hoodie and shirt, his torso shivering against the biting sting of the cold.
Looking down on his body, there were multiple purpled and reddish spots, bruises, he pulled over the backpack and pulled out disinfectant from it, he opened it and soaked cotton wool in it and disinfected the wounds.
Each touch of disinfectant burned like acid, forcing a hiss through his teeth.
Afterwards he wrapped both hands in clean bandages.
Looking down at his ribs, he pulled the remains of his ripped cloth and tore it into strips, wrapping it around his torso, "too tight and I would suffocate, too loose and it loses meaning," he muttered as he tested the wrapping, he nodded as he found breathing easier, the pain slightly elevated.
He finally leaned back against the cave wall. The stone's chill bit into his bare skin.
"For now…" he exhaled, eyes half-lidded, "…survival's enough."
He glanced at the cave's darker stretch ahead. "But first," he murmured, gripping the Ginshiki, "let's make sure I don't have roommates."