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Tracks of rain flowed down Aveline’s skin, mixing with the small river of blood flowing from her nose and lip. Her breath came slowly and shallowly as it forced its way through her parted lips. The world around her seemed to slow, as though it had all been leading to that final crescendo. Nothing fully stopped– the rain still fell, and the thunder kept rolling. The storm above her marched on. Aveline, however, was still.
The adrenaline that had been coursing through every cell of her body had finally waned. Tremors echoed through her, as though the wind itself was traveling in her veins. With a slow breath, she looked up, letting the rain soak through her skin. She closed her eyes slowly. Her body swayed slightly where she stood– whether that was due to the wind or the shake in her legs, she didn’t know. As if her body had been placed on autopilot, she sank to her knees, the mud mixing with the blood on her skin. Everything around her faded as she knelt. The only things that seemed to have been left were Aveline herself, the breaths that came shallowly to and from her lungs, and the blood that seemed to seep into her very being. The line between what was her blood and the blood of those no longer living was a line that had long since blurred. Perhaps the line was well and truly gone.
As Aveline sank closer to the ground, the pain that had been staved off slowly crept into her awareness. Her bones ached, and the wounds scattered across her body stung. Her head dropped to her chest as her breaths grew forced. The ground seemed to call to her, pulling her closer to its embrace. Blinking to see through the rain, she slowly ran her fingers over the small patch of grass to her right. Even as she pulled her hand back, the blood that had smeared on the blades from her hand stayed. Aveline stared at the shock contrast of red and green. Although her vision was unfocused and scattered, the red seemed to be clearer than it ever had been. She reached for the painted grass again. As she did, her world seemed to tilt. When she was able to force her eyes open again, she found herself level with the grass, as though it had pulled her closer to the damage she had done.
As she lay there, the ground forming a bed underneath her, the pain seeping into her very soul grew until the sensation was unbearable. A short breath forced its way through her clenched teeth as her chest stuttered with a quiet sob. As the rain continued to pelt her skin, she realized that for once, she was scared. Aveline’s eyes grew wide. She was scared. She knew, of course, that people were scared of death. She had used that countless times against the people she was sent after, but never once did she herself face the sensation. Her chest grew tighter at the thought. She had seen people feel this. She had made them feel it. Her throat tightened as more sobs forced their way out. It was karma, she supposed. For all of the times she had forced others to meet death alone and in pain, she too would meet her fate the same way.
She didn’t beg for rescue. There was no one to rescue her from the pain anyway. She didn’t pray as she had seen others do in the past. Even if she believed an all powerful being existed, she knew she deserved the cards she was being dealt. Instead she let the ground hold her. It was far from gentle, and it seemed to deepen the pain that radiated through her, but she knew it was more than she deserved. As her breaths grew slower and her eyes slipped close, she let the loneliness wrap around her like a suffocating blanket.
— — — —
Walker approached her gently. His bird and his cane for once did not accompany him as he knelt down beside her. Forcing her eyes to stay open longer than a moment’s glance, Aveline turned her head slightly towards him.
“Hello, my little bird,” Walker said slowly. His voice was deep and unyielding, but to Aveline, it was the softest voice she had ever heard. A frown settled deeper onto his face as he gently brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, slowly looking her over.
She waited for a wince or hesitation, but none came. His eyes were far from soft, but they were the kindest Aveline had ever seen. She took in a rattled breath and opened her mouth to say something, but the sound caught in her throat, ending in a barely audible whine.
Walker shook his head and rested his hand on hers.
“No, small one. It is time for you to rest,” he said firmly. He patted her hand gently once before settling his weight on his heels and reaching into one of his long coat’s pockets. Aveline’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he pulled out a black cloth.
“This won’t hurt,” Walker murmured, bringing the cloth up to her face. As he gently pressed it to her forehead, wiping away the dark mess of dirt, blood, and rain, she found in surprise that she held no fear of him or what he would do. She felt as though her body sank deeper into the ground beneath her, the tension slowly unraveling from her every muscle. Even as the man’s cloth brushed over cuts and scrapes caused by men no longer living, she found that he had been truthful; she felt no pain with his movements. Even pains that had been already living in her wounds, both new and old, seemed to be swept away with each gentle brush of the cloth. As he continued, leaving her face to tend to her arms, her eyes slipped close, a tear silently joining the rain still running down her skin.