Only Exception

It was at night that I found him. They were in the forest. I had wandered there that night out of boredom and rebellion. It was in a clearing that I found them.

The night was cool with mist swirling around my feet. I had been drawn there by the screams I had heard. They were the screams of a man going through pure agony, as if being tortured. It was as I neared the clearing that I saw the fire.

Cautiously I moved closer, making sure to make no sound. But as I got closer I doubt they would have heard me over the man’s cries. There were three people, a man and two women huddled around a stone pillar. They had their hands clasped together and were facing a ring of fire.

Above the stone pillar floated a smooth, ovular stone. It was pure white and unlike any I had seen before. It took a minute for me to see him but the man was inside the ring of fire. He was laying on the ground clutching at his chest. His face held obvious pain.

I stopped at the edge of the clearing and watched. I could catch some of what the three people were saying and I didn’t understand any of it. It was a foreign language that I didn’t think even existed. I watched for another moment before the people suddenly stopped chanting and looked up.

The fire around the man went out but he still lay on the ground. His breathing was shallow and ragged. His eyes were closed as his hands seemed to reflexively claw the soft soil. Mud coated his naked body as he lay there. Shudders seemed to pass through him, his muscles twitching and flexing.

The man took the stone and then silently without another word walked away with the two women into the darkness of the forest. Without the fire the night seemed to close in around me, especially being left there alone.

Hesitantly I made my way into the clearing and towards the man. Taking off my cloak I draped it over his body. I placed a hand on his shoulder and with the other felt the temperature of his forehead. At the contact he shifted slightly and looked up at me.

My breath caught in my throat. His eyes were a golden color unlike any I had seen before. Beneath his eyes ran veins that seemed to burst out of his skin. Around the golden irises his eyes were blood red. But as I watched the visual faded and his eyes became a warm brown.

Seemingly weak with exhaustion he let his head fall back against the earth and his eyes closed. His breathing evened out after a moment and the muscle twitches became less frequent. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “I’ll help you.”