5th Vhalar - 716
There was little time to feel pride at the compliments directed at him. No sooner than the last rope had been undone did the whisp-like shadow move towards them. Rafael didn’t hesitate for a moment and seized Godric's outstretched hand as he was being hoisted aboard in a clumsy pile. There was no time to recover and dust off, no time to look back at what fate would befall Malcolm. Godric barked one command after the other at him and he darted about the ship in a frenzy. Rope burned his skin as the line rushed up while the sail rolled down and unfolded itself. The wind billowed the cloth and Rafael only just managed to duck as the sail swung overhead from one side to the other with a loud creak. As he jumped back to his feet, he heard the sounds of a struggle followed by a low impact to the dock-side of the vessel. Without a moment's pause he rushed over to kick down any Shadow that dared try to clamber aboard. Instead his eyes found Malcolm, hanging on for dear life. Rafael dropped to his knees and leaned forward, seizing the Knight's arms with fierce determination. The man was heavier than he looked and his grip on the side of the boat appeared to be slipping, but Rafael refused to let him go. Pulling with all his might, he hoisted Malcolm aboard and let out a hard breath when he finally succeeded.
The ship slipped out of dock in almost complete silence, save for the quiet lapsing of the water around it. Yet, in a stroke of nightmarish misfortune, the wind had almost completely died down and they were distancing themselves from the many-faced monster at a snail's pace. Like Malcolm, he held his breath and prayed to all that was good in the world that the mishapen blob would not take notice of them.
A mighty force jerked him downward and his back smacked against the woodwork. Dark tendrils slithered around his limbs like snakes, pulling him downward and restraining him as a a shadow with a mouthless face loomed over him with a mirthless eyes.
Father...?
His heart jumped to his throat as he stared wide-eyed at the twisted face of Ned Warrick, contorted by pure and utter hatred for the disappointment that was his son. For a trill, all the muscles in Rafael's body grew limp as atared back at his father's wicked face and saw just how unwanted he was, how hated he was by all in his family, how Ned wished he'd never been born...
The thought ended there as a shadowy claw stabbed into his shoulder. It was only by virtue of a sharp reflex that the sharp appendage missed his heart and yet, no sound escaped him as the cold, black void buried itself into his flesh. Biting down with all his might he struggled in silence against the shadow as it prepared to strike again, a mouth appeared on the distorted face, grinning at him with malintent. This time, it would not miss.
