Activity

“Just…need air…” Alessio whispered, wilting again.

Nithel’s jaw set, and he nodded. He put his arm around Alessio, under the youth’s arms. He stared at the lowered head, the pain aching in this youth. He had to resist the urge to kiss him, and looked around the room. It would probably be easier to put Alessio over his back, but it would probably hurt Alessio’s pride too much. But was that a bad thing? Nithel gave the boy a light squeeze and scanned the room again.

It was dark. And against convention, it had not become easier to see in the room, but harder. The boulders making up the walls were dark, too. There could be an opening and he didn’t even see it. Nithel began to feel along the walls, still holding Alessio up, holding him tight.

The cold wet stones made him shiver as he kept running his hand along them, or kicked at the lowest stones. Nithel whispered, “I have a son, Alessio. His name is Domnik.” Nithel’s chest ached, memories and pain racing through him. “He is thirteen, now.” Even though Alessio might not be listening, he went on. “I lost him.”

Nithel squeezed his eyes shut, and fisted the hand testing stones. “I always told him to stay close, in battle. In camp.” It wasn’t safe. No where was safe. “To keep his back to me as much as possible.” Nithel remembered how much he’d punched that tree. Rage and fear. Much like Alessio had the wall. Nithel’s knuckles were still covered with cracked scabs from it. “I got into the heat of it, and…” The fear of dying, and Dom being left in that Sheol. Nithel can see the man’s face, hear the shouting, feel his blade sinking into the other man. I killed him. I’ve killed so many.

“When I turned, Dom was gone. I searched for days, after the battle.” Burying the dead. “I wanted to find him… but I didn’t.” Not among the dead, or the wounded, lying around that had no chance of being saved. “We didn’t find him.” He must be in Aden. “The Adenites took prisoners.” Nithel’s forehead wrinkled, and he hit the stones harder. *images* “They took him. Or Dom’s dead. From people I’ve seen-” The father’s voice cracked and his throat closed. “I almost hope he’s dead.” He whacked the next rock harder, and there was a sound. Like two giant whet-stones grinding against each other.

Nithel straightened, re-situating his hold on Alessio, but most assuredly not setting him down.

He searched for a change in the stones, anything. He thought he saw a darker divot up higher, just barely. Nithel swallowed, glanced to Alessio’s dark hood, and back up. It was a rectangle, just big enough to shimmy through. Likely a tunnel. Nithel wouldn’t have a problem, except getting up there. But… If Alessio felt closed-in in this space, that one might not be an option. And what if it closed? What if there was no end? Or the walls started closing in? “Alessio.” Nithel kissed the top of Alessio’s head, softly enough for most to miss it, then shook him the slightest bit.

Nithel jerked his bruised chin toward the new hole. “Alessio.” Look. Do you see it? “Will you do it? I can keep looking. If we refuse to go, something else might happen.”

————-

@this-is-not-an-alien @irishcelticredflowercrown @millennium @denali-christianson @skylarynn