(no subject)
Edward walked towards Balthazar’s tent with his heart in his mouth. Not for years had he felt so close to tears as this, he all but trembled as he moved. His knuckles were white as he gripped his shield.
If she was dead, he didn’t know what he’d do. At the merest thought a cloud of black rage and despair threatened to swallow his mind, and he forced it down. She might yet live. The dragon’s blood had true power, and she had lived last night, past when the poison should have killed her - Izza was a tough girl. She might be alive. She had to be alive.
Edward’s hand reached out, and paused, trembling, as it reached the flap of the tent. Steeling himself, he pushed it aside.
Entering, his eyes did not even register the colossal dragon that lay within. His eyes went to the small, delicate-seeming figure huddled at its feet. The forlorn figure that lay on the floor.
The figure that struggled to rise, and tried to speak.
The figure that was alive.
Izza.
Right then, Edward could have run out and given Aestar herself a flying hug. His mind was overcome with relief. He didn’t see the scales. He didn’t see the pitiful weakness or the look of confusion and pain. All he saw was the fact that she moved.
“you… you’re alive.”
He was too filled with emotion to articulate himself beyond uttering those words over and over. As the girl slowly clambered to her feet, Edward stood there dumbstruck.
The world was all right again.
If she was dead, he didn’t know what he’d do. At the merest thought a cloud of black rage and despair threatened to swallow his mind, and he forced it down. She might yet live. The dragon’s blood had true power, and she had lived last night, past when the poison should have killed her - Izza was a tough girl. She might be alive. She had to be alive.
Edward’s hand reached out, and paused, trembling, as it reached the flap of the tent. Steeling himself, he pushed it aside.
Entering, his eyes did not even register the colossal dragon that lay within. His eyes went to the small, delicate-seeming figure huddled at its feet. The forlorn figure that lay on the floor.
The figure that struggled to rise, and tried to speak.
The figure that was alive.
Izza.
Right then, Edward could have run out and given Aestar herself a flying hug. His mind was overcome with relief. He didn’t see the scales. He didn’t see the pitiful weakness or the look of confusion and pain. All he saw was the fact that she moved.
“you… you’re alive.”
He was too filled with emotion to articulate himself beyond uttering those words over and over. As the girl slowly clambered to her feet, Edward stood there dumbstruck.
The world was all right again.