The Sworn Defender

by The Ranger

  "Gross," Eren groaned, flicking the substance towards Aven.

  His friend shot him a look of disgust as he pulled his canteen out into the light.

  "I thought you only drank that stuff at night?" he poked.

  Aven ignored the question as he downed a large volume of his sweet-scented concoction. He wiped a lavender-colored streak of liquid from his lips and stored the canteen once more.

  "I'm not sure why, but I feel I'm more affected now than I've ever been before. I'm even starting to feel uneasy during daylight hours. My night was restless as well; I'm sure I only slept an hour or two," he revealed. "Although I suppose I can't complain. Every time I jolted forward, I saw Richard watching me. Watching all of us. I don't think he slept at all."

  Eren's eyes moved to the head of their little formation, to his friend, and a wave of concern washed over him.

  "We'll continue this in a moment, Av," he muttered. "I need to speak to the magic boy."

  Eren left him behind as he pushed past Khora and Edmund and arrived at Richard's side. His old friend spared a momentary glance at him before returning his eyes to the road in front of them.

  "You look like something's bothering you," he pointed out, the light bright on his face.

  "Right now, you are," Eren prodded. "And I've come to put you back in line."

  He raised his eyebrow slightly at the claim but had no other reaction to Eren's words.

  "Why didn't you sleep last night?" he interrogated.

  Richard looked away for a moment.

  "I didn't think you'd realize," he murmured.

  "And why not?" Eren returned.

  "Well, you were the first to lie down and the last to wake up," his friend explained.

  "Well, Aven told me," Eren spat. "Didn't expect that, eh?"

  Richard looked back at Aven for a moment.

  "He's had a lot of trouble sleeping— I've seen him thrashing around every time he closes his eyes. I hope his condition isn't worsening," he sighed.

  "We're talking about you right now, Rich," Eren redirected. "And you haven't told me why you're not sleeping."

  Richard had a pained look in his eye, but it vanished in the morning shine.

  "Because I don't need to sleep," he divulged. "I haven't needed to sleep since… since Tala gave me this power."

  Eren stopped in his tracks, forcing him to stop momentarily as they stared at each other.

  "What?" he muttered.

  "Why have we stopped?" Khora called out.

  Eren watched a bit of worry leak into Richard's face; it was apparent he did not want the others to know. He cleared his throat before turning to answer Khora.

  "We stopped to assure ourselves we were still traveling west," Eren lied.

  "The sun is on our backs, Eren," Khora growled. "We are traveling west."

  He raised his hands defensively.

  "Well, that was my fault then; let's move on," he smiled.

  Eren turned back and began walking once more, quite sure that Khora muttered "idiot" under her breath as he did so.

  "Thank you for not-" Richard attempted.

  "You can't just go days without rest. What do you even do the entire time you're not sleeping?" Eren interrupted.

  He scratched at the back of his neck before shaking his head.

  "I practice," he mumbled. "I test these powers, and I watch over you all. The repellent we sprinkle on the ground works incredibly well, but Seekers still wander nearby. I sometimes go deal with them."

  "With Edmund's axe or Khora's spear, I'm sure," Eren pushed.

  "What does it matter what weapon I use?" his friend returned.

  "You can't be afraid to use that sword, Rich. We are far from home, and whatever history that blade has shouldn't matter. At this point, it's the same as any dusty old swor-" Eren began.

  "It is not just any dusty old sword," Richard cut. "I carry it now so I can return it to its rightful home, but it is not mine to wield."

  Eren scowled, ready to pursue the topic, but Richard's eyes warned him against the action. Instead, he cast his gaze to the ground as he lingered on his friend's words.

  "Did you at least learn something new?" he poked.

  "I-I did actually," Richard said.

  He presented the underside of his forearm to Eren, who quickly noticed a slight, red marking across it.

  "I seem to heal from any wound. Small injuries heal the fastest, while persistent wounds in the same area can take hours to recover," he claimed. "I guess this means I can go against anything we might find."

  Eren was horrified by his findings.

  "I know you're trying your absolute best here, Richard, but if you're getting these outlandish ideas… if you thought the most useful thing you could do was test how fast your body heals from injury… then, you need to rest more than anyone else here," he pushed.

  He looked into the palm of his hand and the shadows cast along it.

  "It's not an outlandish idea. I was sure that Seeker had killed me," he whispered. "But we didn't even find a mark on my skin. I… I wanted to see just how strong I am now. The more I know about these… powers… the better I can be at protecting us."

  Eren set his hand on his friend's shoulder.

  "Look, I know you've been having a harder time than the rest of us, and all I can say is-" he began.

  Eren fell silent as he saw the same dust as before sitting on Richard's shoulder. He froze and pinched the strange material between his fingers before scanning their surroundings crazily.

  "It shouldn't be this warm; it just snowed yesterday," he sputtered.

  "What are you talking about, Eren?" his friend questioned.

  Eren looked back at him and the sunshine on his face.

  "There shouldn't be light in your eyes if we're facing west…" he mumbled.

  He checked the sun's position, which was directly behind them, and turned to see the shadows cast around them were reaching towards it.

  "We're moving in the wrong direction!" he yelled. "Look at the shadows and the light!"

  The others looked at their surroundings and came to the same conclusion he had.

  Eren pulled his sword from its scabbard and searched for their enemy. A slight sparkle in the corner of his vision caught his attention, and he turned to see a skinchanger materialize from empty air.

  He readied his blade but saw dozens more appear around them, inching closer to their prey. He watched their illusion fall away as they approached, revealing the sun on their backs and the snow around their feet.

  "Crap, it's snowing," Eren cursed, not realizing their more pressing danger.

  "Stay together, don't let them divide us!" Richard ordered.

  Before any of them could react, the monsters threw their dust into the air around them.

  They began to cough as they inhaled it, and Eren felt his mind wander away from the battle. He fell to his knees, letting his sword clatter away, and watched as the rest of his companions collapsed along with him.

  All but Richard, who stooped low to the ground to assure himself Edmund was still breathing.

  "Kill," one of the skinchangers growled.

  Richard rose in time for one of the monsters to thrust its claws into his back. He screamed as he fell to the ground.

  "Damn you, you filthy, ugly…" Eren attempted, losing himself to their poison.

  His face hit the dirt as his vision went black.

  Chapter Seven

  Khora

  A gentle ripple broke across the lake's surface, and Khora reached for another stone. She took it between her fingers, turning it in in front of her eyes to inspect its smooth and weathered form. The young woman smiled and tossed it into the water that laid ahead of her. It bounced along once, twice, and a third time before sinking and vanishing from her gaze.

  She turned to pick up another small stone, but there were none more within reach, and she was far too comfortable to be moved. Instead, she took the opportunity to take in the sights that were be
fore her— something she could never grow tired of.

  She had followed the Bosemar River for little more than a mile, and it led her to a shimmering lake. It was a rare beauty that she had found in the Norva when she was a girl, and it was an area she revisited now that she was far from the place of her birth.

  However, this was no longer exactly as she had known it. Gone were the plains that once surrounded it, replaced by the quiet forest Khora now called home. In the distance, she could see Azra's walls peer at her through the trees, and — beyond that — she could begin to glimpse the castle looming above it all. And that was, in this moment, a comforting fact.

  Wake.

  The sound had come from the woods at her left and spurred Khora to her feet as she searched for its source. She furrowed her eyebrows, attempting to focus on what stood ahead of her— but there was nothing more than the birds and bunnies and the sounds they made. However, all grew quiet as she tread closer to the great oaks and the dark shadows that rested between them.

  Wake.

  Khora whipped around, expecting to see something lingering behind her, but there was nothing left to find besides the serene scene she had walked away from.

  "What is that-" she began to whisper.

  "You are needed," the murmur came once more. "You are needed in another place, in another time."

  The voice was strange— both in tone and sound. It reminded Khora of the manner in which Tala spoke to them, yet this call was not brought forth through her mind. She could hear it all around her, cascading off the water and sweeping through the trees. It surrounded her and swallowed the forest whole. It lacked hostility, yet it was firm and ever-pressed against all things. It was strange.

  An unnaturally strong breeze lashed across Khora's back, urging her to face it. She turned, and that was when she saw it; a beautiful and horrible creature, a monster that bore eyes made of a million colors— both of them fractured like glass. It hovered near her face, too large for her to see anything beyond its vibrant eyes and the scales that sat between them.

  Wake.

  Lightning seemed to run through Khora's mind as she burst awake. Her eyes darted around as she searched for the odd being that had confronted her within the dream— but she found nothing.

  She began to wonder if it had all been some mere fantasy when a dank, pungent odor forced her from these thoughts. Khora was being held in place by bundles of gnarled roots in a lair much like Tala's own domain. A quick glance at her feet revealed she was nearly eight feet off the ground, bound to the wall opposite the exit. A fall she could easily survive, she told herself.

  "The skinchangers…" she remembered. "I must get free…"

  Khora forced her legs forward, straining against the gathered roots until they were pulled from the wall, freeing her lower half. Surprised by how simple it was to release her legs, she spared another look at her surroundings. Whatever prison she found herself in now was not built of hard stone as Tala's caverns were, but instead of packed dirt— almost as if it had been excavated and not naturally formed.

  She returned her eyes to the ground and clenched her jaw as she pulled on the roots tied around her wrists. With a sickening snap, she was released and plummeted towards the dirt below. She braced her legs as she landed on her feet and fell into a slight roll. Pain shot through her left leg when she rose from the ground; her landing was not quite as perfect as she had hoped it might be.

  Khora took a slow step forward and heard a crunch under her boot as she did so. She moved it aside to see a cracked bone rested beneath her. After kneeling to examine it, she saw it was quite slight and thin, almost like it might have belonged to a small creature… or a child.

  Khora tossed the bone aside and glanced around the floor. There were bones of various sizes— some that she was certain came from a few unlucky animals and others that were less clear in their origin. However, there was one detail the remains shared: they had all been picked clean.

  Fear trickled down Khora's spine as she trudged forward into the dusty hall ahead. The passageways were narrow at first but quickly grew wider further down. Multiple torches and a few rare lanterns were forced into the dirt walls, keeping the area relatively well-lit.

  Khora was unsure which direction she should go in, as the corridor split left and right, and there were long, five-toed tracks in both paths. Without a weapon, she could not afford to be wrong now.

  "What did Ekon always say?" she muttered to herself.

  One facet of Khora's youth had been training to survive in most conceivable hostile settings. Her battlemaster charged with this responsibility had been Ekon, a former Norvan Warrior who had been maimed in battle and reserved the rest of his days to act as a tactician and trainer. He had a passion for emphasizing the importance of escaping while held captive by an enemy force. He always advised his students to cling to one wall and follow it whenever they were in a maze, as it would eventually lead to an exit.

  Khora kept close to the right wall, her breaths rapid and her heart racing as her mind was filled with the possibilities of what might lay ahead.

  While she knew little of her captors, it was painfully obvious that this was some sort of monsters' den. The skinchangers had been the creatures that ambushed them, but Khora knew they rarely dwelled below the ground— and never excavated caverns such as this one. She delved into her memories, into her education on the evils that plagued the Norva, but could not quite think of anything that might create this lair and align itself with skinchangers. It was… a unique predicament.

  The sound of footsteps forced Khora to freeze and hold her breath. She huddled closer to the ground as she focused on the turn ahead of her and the noise that had come from just beyond it. Almost as if sensing her own presence, whatever had made the sound stopped as well. Khora began to feel anxious until a voice spoke up.

  "If someone's around the corner, you'd best show yourself, or I'll hurt you real bad," Eren threatened.

  Khora smiled for a moment, believing only her companion might say something so rash. She almost felt tears well in her eyes as she dashed forward.

  "I never thought I might be excited to see-" she began.

  As Khora turned the corner, she saw what had called out to her. The monster stood there, its vile form worn openly, except for its face. The bottom half of the creature's head bore a striking resemblance to Eren; however, Khora had never seen him sport such a sickening smile before.

  Realizing she was too far into her dash to stop, she instead used her momentum to barrel into the skinchanger, sending both of them sprawling across the ground. Her left leg seared as she did so— she had almost forgotten her slight injury in all the excitement.

  "That… hurt…" the monster hissed in a voice that was not entirely Eren's.

  Khora hurled her fist into the creature's eyes before it could make a move. She was forcing herself to act as quickly as possible, knowing that the skinchanger would gut her if she allowed it to recover.

  She grabbed the beast's throat while it was still dazed and lifted it off the ground. With both hands, as well as all the strength she could muster, she repeatedly bashed its head against the dirt wall. Khora gritted her teeth as the monster flailed about and almost managed to lose track of its hands until a stray claw reached for her face.

  She lept back, shifting her weight onto her right leg as she landed. The skinchanger seemed unfazed by her assault and stared at her with its blank eyes. She watched uncomfortably as its face shifted and soon reflected her own.

  "Don't make this hard," the monster poked in Khora's own voice.

  "Things don't tend to be easy for me," she growled back. "So, I won't let this be easy for you!"

  The skinchanger sprinted towards Khora, holding its arms — and its claws — forward. She dodged the initial slash and barely steered clear of the second attack before realizing she had backed up into a wall. The skinchanger grinned devilishly and thrust its hands forward.

  Khora held her breath as she gr
abbed the monster's wrists, its sharp claws digging into the skin of her arm, and pulled them down abruptly. As the creature's head was brought towards her, Khora cocked back her own before smashing it into the skinchanger. Her forehead stung as the monster fell backward onto the ground, its face relapsing into its true form.

  Not willing to leave it to chance, she launched herself to the ground, her elbow aimed at the creature's head. She heard a nauseating crack as her blow landed, and she rolled away from the monster.

  The skinchanger laid there unmoving— its head showing no signs of damage, besides a very obvious dent in the center of its face.

  Khora knew that without a silver weapon, the skinchanger could not be killed. It was only a matter of time before her foe recovered and sought her out once more.

  "Damn it," she groaned, inspecting her arms.

  Three small gashes marked both of her arms, the points where the skinchanger's claws had made contact. As far as she knew, there was no danger of poison, but they stung fiercely. She sighed and prepared to move on— intent on enduring the pain until she could find her friends.

  Khora pressed her fingers into the right wall and dragged them along as she walked, slowly combing over loose stones and frayed roots. She decided to take this time to reminisce on her teachings— on anything that might help her now. However, her memories refused to accommodate this desire and, instead, wandered to the only instructor she had that hadn't been concerned with battle and strategy.

  Izadora, or sometimes Iza as she allowed none of her students to call her, was the rectoress charged with educating most young girls in Khora's province on matters of history and culture. While she was the least favorite of Khora's mentors, it was not due to the subject matter. Izadora was rigid and unyielding in her teachings, either unwilling or unable to dispense any sort of compassion with her subordinates. While this had frustrated Khora to no end, even now — years after leaving Izadora behind — she remembered every lesson and every critique the rectoress had instilled in her.