by Conny Conway
Aimed his arrow and shot it, severing the vine which held on to the captive’s leg, he started to fall upside down.
The tree bashed in Lann’s direction again, but the winged man had jumped up, avoiding the deadly punch, lifted up as his wings caught on fire.
He rushed to catch the falling hostage, still tightly wound up in the vine.
If this man would hit the ground below his neck was surely broken as he was for one almost unconscious and secondly not able to break his fall entwined by the residue of the trees appendixes.
Again the monstrous tree attacked the winged warrior, this time by whipping its vines, the golden man whooshed aside, not avoiding the thrashing trailing plant totally, it bit deep into the small of his back, though it caught fire in the action.
Lann gritted his teeth, bomb dove after the man, barely caught him inches away from the onrushing ground.
The golden hand held on to the wounded foot of the former captive, both men grunted in pain.
The tree’s vine still whipping around, spreading the fire in its wake, yet the monster couldn’t stop thrashing the burning appendix.
The foliage quivered in its canapé sensing the red death.
Lann flew in slalom, avoiding burning vines, branches and foliage.
Heat surrounded them, he was worried about the stranger. The heat wouldn’t hurt him, but he didn’t know what species he had just saved.
Oxygen depleted with the growing blaze, breathing became harder and harder even for him.
He swerved out of thrashing burning boughs.
Dark smoke impaired his sight.
And the tree howled all the while, the tune, sharpened as the heat grew, injured Lann’s sensitive ear drums.
The inferno engulfed the tree, the winged man and the bound captive.
Shiloh couldn’t differ monster tree from the two, made from flesh and blood. Her heart beat so hard, it would surely burst her chest.
Fear had a solid grip and wouldn’t let loose of the young female.
Her imagination ran amok, picturing to find charcoaled bones, the only evidence left of the man she loved.
She sank to her knees as she acknowledged how much Lann meant to her, only to be snatched from her side in less than a heartbeat and from fear, though she couldn’t avert her face.
The heat reaching the small group, Derwa searched for Shiloh’s hand to hold, to infuse strength and faith, holding on to it as she found it, she knelt next to the woman and the heat still rose, the howling had turned to screeches, implosions echoed all around them, surrounding them with a hot wind, which wiped both the Matagot and the willow wisp out of the air, hurdled them like tumbling weed to the edge of the underbrush, where they laid groaning. Whiplash’s left wing was broken, the wisp’s light was almost extinguished, but Shiloh didn’t see any of it.
Against better knowledge she hoped and prayed that her demigod would appear any moment now.
He had to.
Her heart would surely stop beating without him.
The only thing emerging from the fire was the shrieking and black bellowed smoke.
Her eyes teared up, not only from the heat and smoke, but the truth sank in, her golden warrior was gone, never to kiss her again, never to be loved by her again.
Hope forsake her, she clasped both of her hands over her face, sobbing, blind from tears.
Shaking her head in disbelief she sank further down from her knees onto her heels, cowered there, blinded by grief, deafened by the screaming tree, paralyzed by the loss of the only man she had ever loved.
Derwa embraced her, holding the human wordlessly, the druidess wept also, silently tears pooled her sightless eyes.
“There,” Xylophia shouted, “There he is. Unbelievable.”
Shiloh’s head shot up.
Yes, there was her flying, burning warrior, Coughing, sputtering.
One hand tightly wound around the foot of the tree’s victim.
Shiloh jumped up, ripped out of the druid’s hug, ran towards her beloved, which crash-landed a few yards from the women.
She didn’t care that his wings were still ablaze, she enveloped him, kissed his face, his eyes, his mouth, while all the while he tried to catch his breath.
Finally his heart started to slow and his lunges filled with air.
He held Shiloh and kissed her back, kissed her tears away as she wept from happiness.
“Hush.” He whispered between kisses. “Hush,easy, Sweetling.”
Slowly she calmed, still clinging to him, but the rush of emotions ebbed down, grateful he was alive, she swore, she would never leave him.
But what about her world? What if it was time to return to her old life?
She couldn’t, nay, wouldn’t go back. What would she be without him? Without his love, his caress? What would she be living for, if not for Lann?
He pressed his lips on the top of her head, then he swore.
“Your hands. I’m sorry, your hands.”
“What about my hands?”
Shiloh draw out of the embrace lifted her hands to look at them, but Lann gripped them and studied her fingers, her wrists, her palms.
His eyes widened in astonishment.
“I... don’t…..How?” He stuttered.
“What?”
Shiloh’s face impressions gave away her puzzlement.
Lann cleared his throat.
“Why aren’t they burned?”
Her mouth opened, but she was interrupted by the unicorn and the druidess in unity.
“Really?”
As those two also inspected her hands.
“Amazing.”
The green woman breathed.
“Not really.” The white beast countered.” It’s a magic on its own. It's Love. True love with the deepest trust.”
“Love, hm?” He hummed, winking at Shiloh.
She blushed.
A groan filled with pain intermittent the three.
Synchronized they shifted their gazes, what the saw robbed Shiloh’s breath again.
The wisp and her Whiplash lay mangled, bloodied and broken by the underbrush.
Lann and she rushed to the two small life forms, Derwa followed them a little unsure on her feet.
The fear for Lann had barely subsided, when a new unknown crisis arose. She had no clue, besides that someone of her company must be hurt.
But who, why and how she had no idea.
She staggered closer to the scene, afraid to step, bump or hurt anyone.
Indeed she bumped into the warriors back, but besides a moan it didn’t seem to faze him, then she felt stickiness soak her green skirts.
A metallic scent wavered in the air, so faint that no one but her might have registered it.
Lann and Shiloh were busy tending to Willie and the grounded feline.
Both were in bad condition.
Besides the broken wing Whiplash acquired several cracked rips and part of his right ear was split open into.
Willie was an entire different story.
His skin, which encircled his entire small little, shine face was cracked and oozed a yellow, sticky substance, his bright yellow light was doused to an orange flicker.
The little wisp was dying.
Too weak to speak or open his eyes he whispered to Lann.
“Thank you. He was one wisp that had tasted the yummy.”
Barely audible, even though Lann had leaned down, his ear right next to the little face, its color grew darker by the seconds.
“No,” Lann growled, “Don’t leave us little wisp. Come back. Fight, you pain in the neck. Don’t go, it's not your time yet.”
Xylophia heard the grief in his words, even though he had masked it.
Gently she pushed the warrior out of the way, stuck her head between him and the human woman, just as an onlooker would do, but instead of gawking at the spectacle, she lowered her horn, shut her eyes for a macro second.
Magically the light of the small lantern rose, spread and sh
one brighter than ever.
His aurora was so bright that Lann could barely make out the face in it, yet he knew the moment the wisp took off with a yippee, that his little buddy would be okay.
He turned to Shiloh, the little purple kitten laid in her arms, whimpering in pain.
The unicorn touched him also with her horn.
Though the feline, pathetic as he was, whined about the pain, even way after the bone had started to knit back together in one piece.
He also didn’t take off to the air, he sat still whining in the humans arm, milked her pity for the poor, itty, bitsy kitten, savored her kisses and sweet touches with a sly, triumphant gaze to Lann.
“Fleabag.”
The warrior grunted, but had to bite away the curving of a smile around his lips.
It took all his effort not to hoot.
Shiloh saw the amusement twinkle in his eyes, smiled but kept commiserate with Whiplash.
By then the small cat had forgotten about the crying and purred in satisfaction.
In the meantime all of them had turned to the former prisoner of the horrid tree.
It was a man with coffee colored skin.
Black hair framed his handsome face in Shirley Temple locks, falling over his ears and neck. His nose was straight and his lips were full, a deeper brown than his skin. A scar trailed through his eye brow, it didn’t take from his gorgeous face, in fact it drew the gazes of everyone and made his closed eyes look more fascinating, more pronounced. Not to mention the long, black lashes.
He still lay on the ground where Lann had dropped him, the vines holding him bound, but parts of it had burned and singed his skin, especially around his hands
. He wore Bermuda shorts but his chest was nude, little kinky, black curls enticing females to play with them.
His physic was hidden by the vine, just here and there a peek to be acquired.
He groaned, the black lashes fluttered on his cheekbones like butterflies.
he opened his eyes with a groan, everyone would have expected his eyes to be brown or black, instead they were ocean blue, as deep as any sea could be and just as mysterious.
He took in the sight of each of the companions, but his eyes rested on Shiloh just a bit longer, recognition flaring for just a blink.
Or was it? Shiloh mused.
“Well, welcome back then.” Lann said in his low voice.
The man nodded, cleared his throat, several time he attempted to talk, but his larynx, all dried up from hanging upside down for so long, parched from the heat of the fire and smoke, all he mustered was a scraping noise of acknowledgement.
The druid handed him the make-shift canteen, formed from the skin of the rabbit they had eaten, and encouraged him to drink.
The rain water, she had collected was pure and refreshing it moistened his dehydrated throat.
Again he coughed.
“Thank you, “He croaked.
“No problem, man.”
He took another sip of the oh-so-sweet water.
“How did you manage to outdo the freaking tree?” He inquired.
“Oh, there was nothing to it.”
The warrior said unmoved.
The man groaned again as he attempted to stretch, though the vine still hindered him.
Lann unsheathed his knife and cut through the mess until the man was free.
“Again, thanks, bon zanmi.”
Lann lifted a brow at the unfamiliar phrase, but kept quiet as the dark male drank more water.
His hands were charred more than they had looked hidden by the vine.
The chap winced moving his fingers
. Shiloh glanced at the unicorn, waiting that Xylophia would heal the man with her magic.
The beast snorted and stepped back, the young woman followed, questioning the unicorn silently with a fleeting look.
Unnerved Xylophia whinnied, backed off even further, shaking her beautiful white mane in denial.
“My lady?” The human didn’t add anything else.
“No way, I’ll touch him.” The unicorn rumbled. “Absolutely not.”
Shiloh’s eyes widened in astonishment.
“He is evil.”
Xylophia shook her fabulous head in dismay.
Again the female kept silent, but her eyes asking for explanations.
“I can feel his malevolence, it reeks.”
Ones more the beast shook, turned and went into the underbrush, not facing back she increased the distance to get away from the dark man’s wickedness, she didn’t want to be exposed to it, didn’t care if he was born that evil or if someone had made him that way.
Shiloh watched her, eyebrows arched in doubt and worry. She had not known the unicorn so solute in her behavior.
She had always been logical, friendly almost, but never stand-offish.
With a sigh the human female turned, went back to the group, observing that the man had risen to his bare feet.
His chest was muscled, and eight packs formed a hard wash board on his abs. He was the same heights like Lann, his torso was longer than the warriors. The skin on his knees was sprinkled with pink small scars, maybe from where he had fallen as a child and hurt himself.
A tattoo was plastered over his heart.
It was intrigued and very detailed.
Two lines formed a cross, the vertical line ended in leaves crowned by stars at both ends, while the horizontal line had two different endings, one was crossed by a smaller vertical line forming an arch, crowned again in a star, the right side had also a vertical interruption which one side just ended while the other side was decorated with a small arrow, the main line was topped by three stars. The four lines forming the cross were ordained by swags which made it appear to be a frame, filled by the middle of the crucifix and the empty spaces filled with each small circle.
The whole tattoo was inked in black.
Suddenly Shiloh realized she had been staring at the brown man’s chest. Startled she shook her head and lifted her gaze to his head, the unicorn's words still rang in her head.
He smiled at her, super white, even teeth shone brightly between the dark lips.
“I would offer a handshake, but I hope you don’t mind if we rather don’t, ma lady.”
She nodded in acknowledgement.
“My name is Sebastian la Fayette.” He turned to Lann. “And I’m in your debt deeply.”
“Never mind that.” The warrior answered.” The lady is Shiloh, the green Druidess is called Derwa…”
“Actually it’s not Derwa, its Derowen.” She chimed, her face showed the dislike of the new comer openly.
Lann cleared his throat.
“Derowen. The Fleabag is Whiplash and he belongs to Shiloh. The willow wisp is our buddy Willie. The unicorn...”
He turned to where Xylophia had just been just a few minutes ago, but the place was empty, loose dust telling a tale of her leaving.
The wisp floating around the warriors head.
“Hi.”
He said distantly, all too occupied with flying, enjoying the sun, being alive.
“I’m honored, Ladies.” Sebastian said bowing to the women.
As he straightened he flashed a smile toward Derwa, but the druid had once again turned her head low.
He proceeded to grant Shiloh that irresistible smile.
It didn’t had quiet the effect he had wished for.
He turned back to the winged man, his smile faded from flirting to friendly.
“You do know the wisp is tricky? I hope you’re not dumb enough to follow him.”
“I agree, Willie is quiet a trickster.” Lann smiled. “Though we have an understanding now. His detours are done.”
Sebastian shrugged.
“As I was surprised that I was saved, I shouldn’t be surprised that you might have something on the wisp.”
His glare turned to the direction the unicorn had vanished.
“I assume the horse doesn’t like me much.”
“De
ar friend, watch your word,
We belong together,
If you don’t want to get hurt,
You should watch the matter,
Don’t call her horse for sure,
Unless you love pain,
You might endure,
More than you may gain.”
In a threatened gesture, the cat drawn out its claws, growled, snarled and tried very hard to look dangerous.
Even Shiloh had to bite the laughter down, he did look too cute as precarious Tiger and man eater.
She whipped her head to the site so he couldn’t see the smile and laughter forming around her lips.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend her.”
The brown man acted terrified, a spark of humor in his eyes.
“She is a noble beast.” Lann offered, also with a grin.
His voice was a little wiggly from the laughter he stifled in his throat.
“I would recommend going on for a little while before it gets dark.” He suggested. “Where are you heading, Sebastian?”
The brown man collected himself instantly.
“I was heading for the court cave.”
“So are we. Do you have any idea how far we are from it?”
“No, just a good guess, about three to four days’ worth, depending on the terrain and if the wisp keeps his bargain.”
He said as they picked up the pace, following Willie, which hummed in satisfaction, it was good to be a wisp and alive.
The unicorn did not return to the travelers, but they could hear her hooves fall in the distance.
“Why did the Lady unicorn leave?” Derwa whispered to the human female.
“I’m not certain, last thing she said was that Sebastian is evil.” was the retort.
“Hm,” the druidess hummed, “I wouldn’t go so far as calling him evil, but there is something peculiar about him.”
Shiloh kept quiet.
“Tell me, Shiloh, what do you see when you look at him.”
“I don’t know. He is good looking, has great hair, white teeth. His hands are burned, looks painful, but obviously it doesn’t seem to faze him. He walks straight, looks in the eyes when talking, seems like he is hiding nothing. Why are you asking?”
“The lady unicorn must know and see more than we do.”
The druid sank back into silence, contemplating what the unicorn had meant.
Sebastian and Lann got more acquainted throughout their hike, every so often their laughter cut through the quiet forest.
