Dance of the Damned

Stone Legs

Voices filled the boy's ears as he tried to get up but couldn't. Something heavy rested against his back, keeping him down. His skin burnt again as that day came back to him, screams growing louder until they died down.

He could feel the liquid seeping out of the cuts in his body because of the wooden beam as it crushed his ribs to the ground.

Voices came from in front of the boy, someone biting on something as the smell of the parsnips filled his nose.

People are here? He thought, trying to muster his strength to look up. Should. Ask. For. Help.

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"Should we kill him?" A voice asked, wearing a hood over his face to cover his identity up.

"Look, he is already bleeding out so much." The other said, breath smelling heavily of the vegetable Micah went out to acquire. "We can just leave him here. He will die on his own."

"But he is just a boy." A completely different voice said, a little further away. "Shouldn't we at least give him a painless death?"

"You think you are so righteous, Michel." The first man sneered. "But you don't even want to get your hands dirty. If you want to get paid, just stand back. He isn't your brother."

"I am just suggesting." The man said, backing away immediately.

All three wore the same clothes, almost making them hard to differentiate if not for their contrasting behaviours.

"Sucks to be you kid." The one that ate the parsnips said, leaning closer to Micah who has his head flat on the ground. "Well, at least we will get to see something pretty today."

"You mean the flowers?"

"Of course I mean the flowers." The two laughed. "Your sacrifice will not be in vain, kid. We get to see something beautiful AND become rich."

"He-help.  P-please." Micah grabbed the first man, his bloodied hand staining the man's clothes. Looking up at them with his white irises and the contrasting red staining everything around him, made them step back slightly.

"Did the kid become a ghost already or something?" The first man laughed, raising his hand and began punching Micah on the face. "Die already."

"H-help." He weakly cried, voice breaking as his frail, shaky hand reached out to the third man who clenched his teeth, balling his hands into fists.

"Look, this is the best way is to do it." Parsnips breath said, kicking Micah on the head as the two burst into even louder laughter, the boy finally stopped moving.

"Enough." The third man said, making them stop. "Leave the dead alone now."

"What is going on here?" A voice startled the three, making them run in the opposite direction but were stopped by three more people on horses and capes. They all had the same mask on.

A bronze lion-shaped mask with gold detailing at the crown of the head and around the eye holes.

"Listen, we don't want any trouble." The first man said, holding his hand up as they noticed the insignia on their cloaks. "Or are we gonna have to kill you too."

Four swords in a shield with a man sitting cross-legged in the middle, diamonds where eyes are supposed to be.

"D-don't you know who they are?" The second man asked, pulling at the first's cloak.

"No. Who?"

"I have only heard rumours of them from my town. They are those abandoned with no mercy. Swift as the wind in the dead of the night. They can lay an entire town to waste if they wish it." The third man said, hand on his dagger. "The White Tears of the Lion."

"We aren't going to get out of this alive." The second man whispered, pointing to the unmoving boy in the back. "They think they are some kind of defender of the poor and helpless. We are criminals in their eyes."

"Why are they even here?" The third man asked, getting ready for a fight.

The three surrounded the men, looking at them and then the boy as they felt the anger fuming from the three.

"H-hey. He- he is a noble. Very close to the king, we heard." The first one tried to reason with them. "Shouldn't you be happy that we did this?"

"Unlike you, we do not lay our hands on innocent kids." The first man that spoke said. "We do not believe in carrying out judgments for the sin of the father. Nor do we do it for material gain."

"You carried out an unfair judgment." A woman said, holding a sword to them. "It is your turn to be judged."

"W-wai-"

Suddenly they heard movements from the carriage, the boy twitched slightly. The man jumped out of his horse and rushed to the boy, pulling the broken pieces of the carriage away from his body.

"S-see? The boy isn't dead." The first man said quickly.

"Y-yeah. He isn't dead. So we are free to go, right?"

The third man stared at the boy, confusion running through his mind. How?

___________________

Helping Micah out of the rubble as his white hair, now red with blood covered his face while he struggled to stand up without the help of the man holding him up gently.

"Are you ok?" The man asked as Micah began to cough, blood spilling out of his lips as he looked up at the man, same bright smile on his face.

"I think my insides are a little messed up. It's warm." Micah said, blood all over his teeth and lips, dripping down his chin onto his, already, blood-stained shirt.

"Here." The man said, taking his cloak off and covered the boy with it, pulling the hood over his head to cover his face and handed him a dagger. "It is all yours."

The boy felt the dagger in the man's hand, face breaking into a smile again, "You are too kind to me, Carvill. What will I do without you?"

"I'm sure you'll do just fine even without me." The man said helping him stand on his own as the other two got off their horses and stood in attention.

"What is going on here?" Micah heard one of the men ask, sounds like the first man.

"I don't know!" The second man said, trying not to shout while the third one remained silent.

"Aren't you injured, kid?!" The first man shouted, disbelief written all over his voice.

"I am!" Micah answered back pleasantly, feeling his steps become slightly unsteady. "In fact, I think I am very close to death!"

He laughed as blood came spurting out of his mouth and nose, making him cough and reach out to the man for support.

"Roshi!" All three shouted as the man beside Micah held him up while the other two tried to run to him but he held his hand up to stop them.

"Roshi?" The other three asked each other, confused but decided to ignore it as they pushed past the two staring with concern and began running away.

"Are you ok?" Cravill asked Micah who wiped the blood off his mouth and stood on his own again. "Why are you stalling so much?"

"I am fine. Go!" He said, excitement dancing on his face as he heard two getting on their horses and began running after them. "Time me, Carvill."

"Alright." The man said, a slight chuckle in his voice as he got on his own horse and took off.

"I am taking left!" The woman shouted.

"Right!" The other man replied back, the two disappearing into the darkness of the night.

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Each one grabbed one man and threw them over their horse, taking off in a completely different direction as compared to where Micah was standing while keeping as quiet as possible.

"What are you-?" The third man, Michel, was thrown over the back of the horse of the woman tried to shout before she clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Shut up if you want to live." She said, speeding up.

He looked at her blankly, thinking he could jump off but she was going too fast for him to jump and not crash his head into the ground.

Without any other option, he held on. Still confused as ever.

___________________

Micah stood there, alone. The dagger twirling in his hands as he counted, "Five! Six! Seven! Eight! Nine! Ten! Ready or not, here I come!"

He closed his eyes allowing his hearing to perk up. Sounds of people walking, talking, laughing and many other things filled his ears but he pushed them all away until he could hear the faint gallop of hooves on the ground.

Smiling, the boy stretched his body and then took off, jumping on the rooftops as he ran beaming with excitement while blood still fell from his wounds, some opening even wider as he ran but that did not seem to bother him at all.