Chapter Fifty-nine

"By the gods, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He jerked her back up, her body slamming into his chest. Twisting her arm behind her back, he growled when he felt a twinge of pain similar to what she was experiencing. Blasted curse. Her head dangled down to the ground and he curled his fingers into her hair, pulling her head back against his shoulder, noticing her eyes were closed tightly.

"Open your eyes, dragon slayer, and look at what your kin have done. The same thing you chastise my kin for." His grip in her hair tightened as he twisted her arm more and he felt the spark of pain explode in his stomach, instantly causing him to loosen his grip. The pain served more as a warning to him this time, but he still did not let her go. They were out of sight of the villagers, standing outside the gates and near a stone wall. If a guard were to venture outside the gates, he may find them, but for now they had privacy.

"Look at me," he growled. "Dragon slayer, Libelle."

Her name came out softer than he expected, and that may have been the only reason her eyes slowly fluttered open. To his surprise, there were tears forming in them and pain and fear swirled about in her blue orbs. He released his grip on her arm and wrapped his arm around her waist. His hand still tangled in her hair, gentler now, but still proving he was in control. He glanced up towards the corpse of his fallen kin, and realization struck him.

A dragon slayer was once a dragon, one who had killed another dragon in their past life. They were cursed and reborn a mortal, a lesser being, and even in their new life the slayers still killed the dragons. Eskil felt the energy break within Libelle, and she was suddenly growing weak. It all made sense to him, and he realized what type of cursed being Libelle was. She wasn't a typical slayer.

If he had not had his arm around her waist, her knees would have collapsed underneath her and left her falling to the ground. Libelle swallowed back a wave of tears that she could not control, not even in front of him. She cried silently, never raising her voice or raising alarm. She grabbed his forearm and tried to push it away, trying to get him to release her.

"If I let you go, you're going to fall," Eskil said. To his surprise, his voice was still calm and gentle.

"Then I fall," she said. Her voice was shaky, but she managed to push her strength through.

He didn't let her go, instead, he freed his one hand from her hair and wrapped both hands around her waist. Then his grip shifted to both her hips where he effortlessly lifted her up and not-so-gently tossed her over his shoulder. He held onto the waistband of her pants and took both horses' reins in his free hand.

He started walking up the paved hill, mulling over his own thoughts as Libelle wiped away her tears, feeling somewhat embarrassed. He didn't know where exactly he was going, all he knew was he was supposed to follow this path until they reached a shattered boulder, then he was supposed to turn left somewhere. At least that was what she had told him.

It would have been easier to toss her onto her horse and lead them wherever he chose, but he doubted she would sit quietly after what he had just witnessed. She'd most likely take the first chance to bolt away, leaving him to chase after her on his exhausted gelding. It just wasn't worth the trouble.

He walked around a bend in the road, which removed Lowestoft from both their views. The bend led to a hill with a road that weaved back and forth into a patchy forest. He started to slowly stomp up the hill, gazing at the river that lazily flowed back down towards the town. He eyed a smooth, grassy path that overlooked the river and setting sun, and he decided to head towards that.

"I have not seen a slayer like you...in thousands of years," he said quietly.