The Silver Arrow

by Larry Itejere

  “But Father, he−”

  “I know I need to speak with him,” Faray said, cutting in as someone else called.

  “My Lady, your father needs you inside.” They both turned to see one of Klair’s family maidservants standing in front of the side door.

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” she said, returning her attention to Faray.

  “When do you leave?” Klair asked.

  “Tomorrow morning…but meet me at the Stone Hog Inn. I have something for you.”

  “I can’t promise that I’ll be able to make it tonight. Father is expecting me to help, but I’ll try.” Klair kissed him on the cheek before rushing away.

  Faray stood there, stunned with excitement after all this time worrying about being rejected. She had not drawn her hand away from his when he held it, and she had kissed him. He raised his hand to touch his face, grinning as he walked away.

  Samuel and Elye listened, impressed with Faray; he finally did it.

  “So what are you going to do now?” Elye asked.

  Faray looked at him, his expression not slighting. He knew Elye's youthful exuberance sometimes got the best of his tongue.

  “Well,” Faray said, “I’ll be speaking with Father to see if I can stay another day, and we’ll see how things go.”

  They spent the rest of the night making small talk while enjoying the music performed by a man who played the flute, accompanied by a young female singer old enough to be his daughter.

  They went to bed that night reflecting on the events that had transpired during their day. Faray had finally taken the next big step with the girl of his dreams, which, for him, was the beginning of what he hoped would be the start of his new life; he hoped her father would approve.

  Elye went to sleep dreaming about the great magic show, while Samuel’s thoughts were consumed by the stranger he had helped along the alleyway, a young man about his age named Jayden. He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out the necklace that held an emerald ring. It reaffirmed what had happened to him; it hadn’t been a dream after all.

  Chapter 12

  The Prints of the Unknown

  After two long days on the road, once setting camp overnight in the woods, Harold, Samuel, and Elye made it home to Chartum-Valley. Their father had agreed to Faray spending another night in Bayshia. He arrived the following day just past sunset, exhausted but bright-eyed.

  It had been a week since their travel to Bayshia, and things at the Wyman were back to normal. For Elye, it was nice returning to his familiar surroundings and not worrying about traveling anytime soon. Faray, on the other hand, had been talking about a plan to go back to Bayshia. He wasn’t going to wait for the next harvest festival now that he’d taken his first serious step with Klair. He finally spoke up about it during supper as the family sat around the table.

  “I’m planning to take Klair as my wife,” he announced.

  Elye and Samuel eyed their father.

  “Are you sure she is the one?” he asked.

  “Yes, Father,” Faray replied with an inflection of certainty in his voice.

  No one said anything as their father stopped eating to look at Faray.

  “She is a fine girl and will make a good wife,” Harold said. Their mother reached out her hand, smiling with motherly pride, tears beginning to swell around her eyes. She squeezed Faray’s hand, nodding her head in agreement with Harold.

  Since then, things in the family in relation to Faray, though subtle, changed. Their father spent more time with him, as did their mother, as if preparing to send him off.

  They were out in the field working when Faray told Samuel and Elye he had to leave.

  “I have to take care of something with Father at Ruth’s.”

  He was another farmer that lived several miles from their home. He was selling his old plow; Elye snorted under his breath, but Samuel heard it. He looked at Elye but didn’t say anything until Faray was completely out of earshot.

  “What was that for?” Samuel asked.

  “You would think the wedding was tomorrow, with the way Father and Mother have been treating him lately. It’s not like a gift of proposer has been given yet.”

  “True,” Samuel said, understanding from Elye’s tone that his concern had nothing to do with the wedding itself, just the change it was going to bring to their family’s dynamic. “It’s not like it’s going to be happening anytime soon, you know. A lot of preparation still needs to happen.”

  “Well…I heard Father talking with Mother about going back to Bayshia at the end of the season,” Elye said

  “You did?”

  “Yes,” Elye replied.

  “I guess this means next year or so, you’ll have two women fussing over you instead of just Mother,” Samuel said teasingly. Elye face became flushed with embarrassment. He walked over to Samuel and pushed him by the shoulder. “No it doesn’t,” he tried to argue in his defense.

  While there were the obvious changes going on in their family, there was another one that was more personal, brought on by their trip to Bayshia.

  Even though Samuel had never mentioned it to anyone, his encounter with Jayden had aroused something in him that he could not explain, like the spark of a kindling stick. Since returning, he had tried to rationalize what happened to him as just a figment of his imagination, but he could not dispute the reality of the emerald necklace. Something did happen. He had held a power that was infinite and uncomprehending that made everything else insignificant. The feeling was still fresh in his mind after all this time, which was over two months ago.

  His challenge, now that he’d agreed not to pretend it never happened, was determining where to begin. “How do you find answers to something you don’t understand yourself?” This was the thing that was running through his mind.

  It had been a long day and his family had just finished supper. Elye was helping his mother clear the table when Samuel announced, “I’m going to the lake and will be back by sunset.” He waited to see if anyone else would be interested in joining him, but no one responded.

  When Celina, their mother, saw that the others weren’t interested in joining Samuel, she spoke up in that tone mothers use on their children, regardless of age, even after they leave home.

  “You know, son, that I don’t like you boys going to the lake on your own and−”

  “Let him go, Mama,” Harold cut in, not worried about Samuel. He was old enough and able to take care of himself. “And besides, the lake is lower during this time of the season anyway.”

  Before Celina could come up with another reason why Samuel shouldn’t go on his own, Samuel hurried to his room to get his bow and arrows. The conversation had changed to something else as he made his way out of the house. He headed for the woods, cutting through their farm to save time instead of using the normal trail that led to the lake.

  The clouds had been gathering through most of the day. As Samuel made his way, he looked up at the sky; from what he saw, he was confident that the clouds weren’t substantial enough to cause rain.

  At the lake, Samuel placed his bow and arrows by a tree. He took off his boots and tucked his stockings inside them. He then proceeded to roll up his trousers to his knees and did the same thing to his sleeves, which he rolled above his elbows.

  He walked over to the periphery of the lake, carrying his boots with him and placing them by the edge of the water before dipping both his hands in. He washed the exposed parts of his arms, face, and feet, which helped cool and refresh him. Once clean, Samuel slid his socks and boots on and returned to the tree where his bow and arrows lay.

  This corner of the lake was relatively quiet besides the sound of chirping birds, nestled or fluttering about between the trees. This place always provided the type of solitude he needed when he had to think.

  Samuel stared at his bow, really studying it for the first time. He remembered his bow, like him, had changed as he ran to aid the young man called Jayden. The bow was old and had s
cratches all over it. A word was inscribed on it that he hadn’t noticed before. Written in silver, it read, ‘Lights Arrow.’

  He took an arrow from its quiver, stood up, and aimed for a wild fruit high on top of one of the taller trees. As he closed his left eye to focus, he felt a slight vibration underfoot. He stopped and looked around. The trees gave no indication that anything had just happened.

  “Hmm…must have been my imagination,” he thought, so he returned his focus back to the tree with the wild fruit, but the fruit was no longer there.

  Perplexed by the fruit’s disappearance, Samuel decided to do some exploring. He had at least another hour of light, so he made his way into the woods away from the lake.

  Falling leaves of golden brown and yellow covered the ground, making a crushing sound underneath Samuel’s feet as he walked deep into the woods. He did not notice a pothole and stumbled over it, almost falling over. Irritated by what almost happened, he looked at the hole. “What sort of animal could have made such a strange hole,” he wondered as he looked at it more closely, brushing away the leaves around it. The hole, he realized, looked more like a footprint. But what kind of animal was it?

  Bending down to investigate, Samuel brushed his finger at the base of the hole. He looked at his finger; it was black. He smelled it−ash.

  Now curious, he walked a pace from the spot, facing the direction he thought the creature or thing would have headed. He found another print, but it wasn’t as deep. Whatever made this was big.

  Other prints could be seen around the next one he discovered, but they were too numerous to count. These newer prints were smaller and about the same size as a regular person, even though they were dwarfed next to the last print he found earlier.

  Samuel noticed that the air around the spot he was now standing had a hint of smoke and the prints were still fresh, probably made less than three hours ago, from his estimation. He realized then that whatever made the prints could still be around and maybe even watching him. He casually crouched down so if he was being watched, they wouldn’t notice any difference in his behavior.

  Samuel listened for anything strange or out of the ordinary as he looked around. He quickly moved behind a tree, still crouched down, and then slowly retreated. Once he felt he had gone a comfortable distance, he turned and started running home as fast as he could. He did not see any prints on his way home.

  The sun was setting when Samuel arrived at the farm. He felt something wasn’t completely right, so he moved out of the open field. The crops on their farm were knee high, which made it easy for him or anyone to be spotted from afar. So he stayed next to the boundary of the farm where there were still trees.

  Relieved that things looked normal from his distance, Samuel stopped to catch his breath before proceeding, meandering through the trees. A soft breeze in the open field carried a charred smell that was distinctively different from the one rising above their chimney.

  They lived outside the main town and had no neighbors for miles, so it was strange to smell something burning that wasn’t around the farm. Besides, there had been no lightning that could have caused a wildfire.

  Wherever this smell was coming from, it had to have traveled a long way, Samuel thought. While things had looked normal far afield, Samuel could see, now that he was closer to the house, that the horses and carriage were gone. That was not the only thing he noticed as he spotted the shadow of a creature too big to be a bird zipping overhead. He looked up to see what flew by but it was gone, the shadow disappearing into the trees.

  As he was wondering what was going on, something tapped him on the shoulder. Samuel leaped backward, turning midflight to face whatever it was, in between his wordless shrill.

  “Shush…” his father said in a whisper with a finger across his lips. “They can hear just as far as they can see.”

  “Who? What?” Samuel asked, trying to compose himself after almost being frightened to death.

  “Come,” Harold said, leading him away from the house.

  Samuel followed as his father made sure they stayed out of sight, using the trees for cover.

  Still not sure what was going on, Samuel stayed close to his father, who had a sheathed sword hanging on the left side of his waist. This was a surprise to him, as he’d never seen his father with a sword.

  “There are two of them,” Harold said softly when he thought it was safe enough to speak again. He returned his focus overhead, eyes fixed on their destination, as he continued to speak in a soft whisper. “They move in opposite directions, going back and forth, scanning for people who are alive.”

  “What kind of flying creatures prey on people,” Samuel wondered as he listened.

  “They came from around the lake and stormed the town, destroying everything along their way,” he said, pausing for a minute, emotion weighing in his words. “My first thought was you.” He didn’t have to say anything else; Samuel understood then more than ever before that his father’s love and desire for his safety was more important to him than even his own life.

  “The homes and shops in town have been destroyed,” Harold said sadly. “Since most of the people could not defend themselves against the strange army that came out of nowhere, they took for the hills, and the bat-like creatures that passed overhead have been picking people off.”

  “An army,” Samuel said to himself, stupefied. “Where is everyone?” he asked, referring to the family.

  “They are safe for now, and your older brother is keeping watch,” Harold replied.

  Harold looked up again to make sure it was safe for them to move.

  “Now!” he said, running over an open field with wild vegetation. The grass brushed against their legs below the knees as they ran and stopped under another tree closer to the base of a hill.

  Harold led the way as they climbed up the hillside, using the trees along the way for cover. The higher they went, the more sparsely forested and open it became. The ground was rugged with an incline that required them to climb on all fours.

  There were boulders of every size weathered from their long standing. Some of the smaller gravel pricked Samuel’s once-clean hands as they moved.

  They stopped several times along the way, making sure they weren’t spotted by the bat-like creature that scanned the hillside. “There!” Harold said, pointing, but Samuel saw nothing.

  The rays from the sun still provided some light below the horizon when Samuel saw a narrow slit on a slightly bulging hillside that most people would miss from any other angle. It was a single boulder that hid the narrow entrance, and they were standing at the edge of it.

  Harold jumped down, raising his hands over his head, his face inches from the wall as he landed on a ledge. Samuel did the same, taking off his bow and quiver, and not thinking about the drop at the edge of the ledge, which was a rolling hill covered with jagged rocks that rose from the ground like spikes.

  They moved along a narrow gap in the mountainside. For several minutes, they had to walk sideways because it was so narrow. The air was heavy.

  Samuel took deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves while moving between two solid walls that were a few inches apart from him. Their path was straight, even though Samuel couldn’t see where they were heading in pitch blackness.

  A flicker of light appeared overhead after a few minutes, to Samuel’s relief, and the wall also opened up a bit.

  Faray had his weapon drawn and was relieved to see that it was Harold as he emerged inside the cavern. He was followed a second later by Samuel, and Faray’s expression changed into a big smile.

  “Samuel!” he exclaimed excitedly, his voice audible enough for the rest of his family to hear, and they all ran up to meet him.

  Elye was the first to run into Samuel’s arms. “We were worried something horrible may have happened to you,” he said, hugging Samuel even tighter with his head resting on his chest.

  Tears were running down Celina cheek as she ran to embraced and kissed Samuel. Her son an
d the family were finally safe.

  Chapter 13

  A Town in Chaos

  Samuel sat on the ground in the dark cave that was lit by the fire burning in front of him. The fire was little, almost a tease−a reminder that he would have been enjoying more of this at home. He ignored that thought, focusing on their present circumstance as he continued to look around. Samuel wasn’t sure if it was poor lighting that gave the cave an odd shape in some areas, making it appear almost flat, like a wall. It reminded him more of a tomb.

  He could make out old fire posts that were barely visible sticking out of the wall as they appeared and disappeared with the wavering firelight.

  “What was this place used for before?” he wondered as he began to notice other oddities. His father had never mentioned anything about this place. First the sword, and now this cave. There was more to his father than the mere farmer he’d always thought him to be.

  “How did I miss this place after all my years of exploring around it?” Samuel wondered. This thought was cast away by a more pressing question that loomed at the back of his mind.

  He needed to know what happened to their townspeople and to fill in gaps on the information he’d gathered so far. He knew the town was attacked, from what his father told him, and also about the mysterious creatures that flew overhead, preying on the people.

  He stood up and walked around the fire over to Faray, who was leaning against the cave wall. Faray was deep in his own thoughts, like everyone else, as the firelight shifted in and out, revealing and hiding parts of Faray’s features in the shadow.

  He did not notice Samuel approaching until he said, “Has Father said anything about what we are going to do next?”

  “Hmm…what?” Faray responded as he became aware of Samuel’s presence.

  “Has Father said anything about what we are going to do next?” Samuel asked again.

  “No,” Faray replied.

  Faray had being thinking about it, too− a plan.

  “I know we can’t stay here too long, since we don’t have any real supplies, but hopefully it should be safe by morning.” Faray’s last words were more of a wish than anything else; like the rest of the family, he hoped it would all be over by morning.