Backwards From the Spill

Bricriu stared at the sky, black edging into the corners of his vision, the hazy clouds catching the pink and orange light of the setting sun. He knew they weren’t actually swirling in tight little bundles like that, that it was only because he’d hit his head when he fell, but he let himself smile a little, let the colors turn without trying to blink them away. 

It was better than acknowledging the throbbing in the back of his skull, the silent screaming of the muscles throughout his back, his legs, his arms, the wet tackiness that covered his fingers, the taste of iron on his tongue. 

This must have been an especially bad spill.

A spill… He did fall, right? 

But, from where? 

…wind rushing past him so fast it bit at his cheeks, and he leaned into it, pouring all of the anger and helplessness into the sky. His legs cramped from too long in the saddle, calves burning from the constant crouch, but…

…“stand here and listen to this! Get over yourself! You are nothing, you hear me? Nothing!”…

…his gut sinking, twisting. He’d lost. Lost. Second place wasn’t enough to pay off what he owed…

…as Finn giggled, trying to hold back his laughter behind pudgy hands. Bricrui swept him up, his own laughter welling up at his son’s delight…

…the weight of the debtors note sat on his chest, his ribs about to snap…

…“What is this?” she snapped, holding out the tin that had been tucked in his jacket. She knew full well what it was, betrayal and disgust filling her stare. A pit opened up in his gut…

…deep blue-green wings stretching wide…

…“Again!” Lir barked, though his expression was absolute boredom. Or was it exasperation? “You have to maintain better control through the switchbacks, otherwise…”

…string of colorful triangles snapping in the wind, the anticipation winding tighter…

…her smile deepened, only stoking the heat in his face further. He knew he looked like an idiot in this getup, but…

…his chest about to explode! First! It didn’t matter that it was only a county fair race. They took first! Bricriu sat up in the saddle, pulling her around…

…carefully unclenching his hands from the reigns, every joint filled with fire…

…shifted the sleeping toddler a little higher on his shoulder. If he had any hope of making the payment this month…

…stared in wonder, dappled light dancing across rough scales variegated in a dozen shades of blue, green, grey…

…“Love you, Da.” Finn’s deep brown eyes…

The ground vibrated as something thudded down nearby, other noises distant, his ears muffled with cotton that wasn’t really there. The something pushed gently on his wet hand, sending fire up his arm. He groaned, throat like gravel. 

A scaley, angular head leaned over him, twitching with anxiety, black eyes dancing between him and something else in the distance.

“Rhagan,” he mumbled. That seemed to calm her a little.

Right. He must have fallen from Rhagan. They were going too fast. Because he was angry, because he was humiliated. Though he couldn’t quite remember why, the screaming of his muscles drowning it out. 

The dark crept further in on him, Rhagan becoming a dark silhouette, the pink and orange slowing it’s swirling dance. 

His name echoed in his stuffed up ears. Was someone calling him? He couldn’t tell. Maybe didn’t care. 

He sank into the dark. Hiding from the pain. Hiding from the anger, the humiliation, the fear that growled deep inside him. He didn’t know what he would do now. And so, he hid.