by Unknown
“I wouldn’t say a natural,” she scoffed. Rubbing her left arm, she rotated her wrist to ease its tension.
“You’ve never shot a bow before? Not a recurve or a long bow, nothing right?” he inquired as he gathered up the arrows, returning them to the quiver.
“Not once. Closest I ever got was using a sling shot to throw spoons at the mice in the kitchen.” Allos chuckled. She rolled her shoulder forward and back. Her arm was stiff from holding the bow rigidly for so long.
“You’ll be an archer before you know it,” he assured her.
“I prefer the swords, but it’s a good skill to have when a sword won’t make the distance.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. “Care to put those swords to the test? It’s been a few days since we’ve sparred. Don’t need you getting lazy after a few days with Reign.” He roared laughter at seeing her sour reaction.
“Lazy?” A strange ‘pfft’ scoff muttered from her lips as she pushed her cloak behind her shoulders and the hood of the cloak back, though the cowl remained up.
Usually they fought in the arena. It was a safe zone where they didn’t have to worry about other people getting caught in the crossfire. The climate was always steady and cool where no wind could bother them. It was an unrealistic setting for a fight, though made for good training by limiting distractions. Today, however, Aryaunna didn’t want controlled.
Hands placed over the hilts of each sword, she drew them smoothly. She looked at him expectantly. A slow grin spread his lips as he set down the quiver. Drawing his own blades, he swung them down at his ready.
Off-hand forward, strong arm held back. He lectured with every strike and parry. Allos was always offensive in their spars though his natural style was defensive attack. She’d seen this first hand while watching him fight with others. “Keep that left arm tight to your body!” he warned. She had an obstinate habit of keeping her arm out for the block.
He stepped in close. His off-hand sword forced hers up and back, locking it with the cross guard as his front-hand forced her right sword down. “If it had been close to your body, you’d have me gutted now instead of being pinned,” he lectured. “What now, Ary?” A malevolent grin spread his lips as he stepped forward, forcing her to step back or fall flat.
With his weight and focus on his right hand, she let his momentum slide against her blade as she brought the hilt up and bounced it against his chin. Allos’ jaw clacked shut. When they hit, they always hit hard enough to feel it but never enough for real damage. Allos grunted as he backed off. “That was new. Reign teach you that?” To better his grip he spun the swords back and adjusted.
“We haven’t fought yet. He did teach me something though.” Her right sword swung from the earth up, hilt out to her left side. His blade clashed off of hers at the same time their secondaries collided.
“And?” Twisting himself, he rounded both his blades and forced her to parry left.
“The Magistrate,” she grunted as she swung her right blade hard into his to block. “is immortal.” Her left came up and shot forward, the tip resting at the base of his throat and held. “He’s been collecting magic from his kills for the better part of a century at least.”
Astonished, Allos held, not reacting to her attack at all. “He’s certain?”
“He’s the one who took Reign’s wings, and killed the last of his kin.” They pulled their blades, letting them drop to their sides a moment. “This fight, when it comes, we’ll have no idea what we’re going up against.”
“What do you mean, took his wings?” Aryaunna explained how the Dragon’s wings were like bone lace. They moved like wings, but were no longer functional, and that Reign hadn’t been able to fly in over a hundred years.
“How is it you didn’t know this? I’d have thought everyone knew.”
“No one has seen the last Dragon, Reign,” he corrected. “in many decades, if not since he lost his wings.”
“How did you know he was even alive then?” Twisting her wrist, she swung her right sword to lay flat against her arm, guarding it as she came forward with a swing to his neck. Allos blocked, and as expected brought the flat of his other blade against her arm.
“Because,” he grunted as he pushed her blade up. Aryaunna was much stronger than she looked. A life time of hard labor would do that for a woman. “we can hear his cries.” Their swords screeched against one another as she forced her left blade to drag and slide up, to brace against his throat. To gain leverage she lifted to her toes.
“Ary, haven’t I taught you better? Never sacrifice your balance for what looks like the upper hand.” With his feet securely planted, he rocked his body forward and sent her stumbling back.
“What do you mean you hear his cries?”
“Sometimes at night, we hear him call to his kin in the heavens.” Walking forward he swung each sword one at a time back and forth at hers, tapping the broadsides together as he advanced. “Foot work, Ary.” She was stumbling back over the limbs. “You’ve gotten too used to the arena.”
“I’ve never heard this.” Gasping suddenly, she fell, landing hard and fast on her backside.
His right blade swung swiftly through the air only to be sheathed at his side. Reaching out, he offered his hand. “You all right?”
“No. My pride is badly bruised.” Keeping her sword tipped down, she reached her arm out. Allos grabbed her wrist and pulled her up to her feet. They both sheathed their weapons.
“Nothing I can do for that, I’m afraid.”
“Of course there is. I need to fight more,” she confessed. It was exhausting. Especially when she was so busy as it was. “Think Raif and Lena would help more?”
“They’d be honored to have you ask. I think you should stop fighting inside the arena though. It’s a great resource for the basics or for just having some fun. You need to get accustomed to the elements though.” He pointedly looked down at the little root that had landed her in the dirt. “If I’d not been a friend, imagine how this would have ended.”
A stern frown of frustration settled onto her. “Aryaunna, I mean no insult. You’re skilled for as fresh as you are with a sword.”
“Tomorrow my life may depend on my abilities with a blade, as well as the lives of many others. You are no insult to me, Allos. It is I that is an insult to these weapons.” His jaw set sternly. “Don’t. I’m fine. The elders should hear about the Magistrate and what else I’ve told you. Will you go to them for me? I wish to stay here for a time.”
What did one say in response, he wondered. She was more than his friend. Aryaunna was the Emissary, and more importantly she was precisely right. The Emissary wasn’t meant to be a diplomat, but a warrior and a leader. “Stay close to the Hollow,” he advised as he gave her a nod and turned to leave her.
He stopped, turning back to her. “You haven’t heard the Dragon’s cry because he has not done so since you’ve arrived. You may not yet be a great fighter, but you’ve already brought hope where there was once only pain. Try to remember that when the weight on your shoulders feels crushing, my friend.” With a deep nod of his head, he turned and left her.
Dusk had come, but Aryaunna hadn’t noticed the darkening skies. The snow fall reflected the brightness of the moon well, lighting up the woods. Swords in hand, she panted softly as she maneuvered as if in battle. For hours she’d practiced, though her only opponent was the wind.
A fallen tree aided her balance as she walked its trunk, jumping over limbs again and again while arcing her sword in practiced swings and swift hits. A slight shake of a tree limb sounded. It was enough to freeze Aryaunna in place. A melodic hoot of an owl’s call echoed through the night.
Stepping down from the tree trunk, Aryaunna swung her blades up and sheathed them smoothly. “I’ve lost track of the hour. Forgive me,” Aryaunna spoke into the night as she lifted her cloak from a low hanging branch and swept it about her shoulders.
Gazing up at the owl she waited quietly, standing still. It called to her ag
ain. Large golden eyes glistened in the light of the moon, looking back at her. Its head turned at a drastic angle. “I know you,” Aryaunna whispered, recognizing the owl not for the maiden she also was, but as the owl who accompanied her the first night she’d come to the Hollow. “You stayed with us that first night, following us to the Hollow.”
Her glorious white wings stretched wide as it lifted from the branch and came swooping down. Snow flew up around the owl as she landed with a graceful power. Aryaunna’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the magic before her. The owl’s feathers slicked out, as if liquefying. Her body elongated as the owl’s head bent down as blonde hair seemed to cascade where down feathers had been seconds before. Feathers on her wings curled in as she stretched and became fingers. A beautiful white robe hung over her body as she straightened herself.
Skin like fresh cream seemed to glow under the light of the moon. Her eyes were still golden, though she certainly appeared more human than she was. “I’m surprised you remember me.” Her hands clasped together in front of her.
“I’d never seen an owl that close before. I wouldn’t have soon forgotten such an experience.”
“Nor would I. The moment I saw you running through the woods, I knew who you were.” Head tilting, wild silken tendrils fell down over her shoulder.
“Are you a Seer? Like Elizabeth? Have you seen my future?” She hadn’t intended to be so blunt about it, but there it was.
“I’m not a Seer.” The smile that spread over her fair lips was apologetic. “How I wish that I was. It would be of comfort to us both for me to be able to tell you without a shadow of doubt that you would succeed.”
The fair skinned maiden walked so light over the snow that it nary made a sound under foot as she crossed the forest floor to the fallen tree that Aryaunna had been practicing on. Sitting down, she looked back up at Aryaunna. Her gaze seemed sad, filled with pity.
“Your name is Evangeline?” Aryaunna asked as she watched her. No sadness could be found in her gaze. Her pain motivated her to strive on. It wasn’t something she wished to wallow in, nor was it something she cared to see in the eyes of others. Especially when the sadness was meant for herself.
“Yes,” she seemed happy to answer something with a more sound answer than ‘I don’t know.’
“Well, Evangeline, if you cannot tell me what the future holds, perhaps you can tell me about this prophecy?” Evangeline’s hand waived out gracefully at the fallen tree.
One step at a time brought Aryaunna to the trunk. She was tired, and not near as graceful as the Wood Nymph seemed to be. “Aren’t we a pair?” Evangeline seemed joyously amused as she looked Aryaunna up and down. The young Emissary didn’t seem keyed into the joke. Her brows rose in question. A question Evangeline was pleased to answer, “The mighty warrior, dressed in fine black leathers, rich ebony suede. Masterful weapons, deadly yet beautiful. Even your hair.” Evangeline reached out her delicate hand and brushed wild tendrils back from Aryaunna’s brow.
“Your wild black curls frame skin only light in a winter’s cast.” Her knuckles brushed Aryaunna’s cheek before returning to her own lap. “While I am quite the opposite in every way.” It was true. Evangeline’s hair was fine corn silk in sweet looping curls that fell perfectly over her shoulders which were covered in her pure white dress. A dress Aryaunna thought looked too cool to wear for such a winter, though the Nymph seemed far from cold. The maiden’s eyes were golden while Aryaunna’s were emerald green.
“War and peace,” Aryaunna commented with begrudging amusement as she noted the differences in the two. Such as Evangeline carried no weapon. Aryaunna carried enough for several hands.
“War and peace. I like it. Though not at all in the way you may think.” A sultry laugh giggled from her lips. Once more Aryaunna’s brow rose in question. “Owls are a majestic creature, but we are predators, my dear Emissary. Best that not be forgotten,” Evangeline warned with a coy smirk. “You will fight until your last breath, my young friend. You will do this for peace. While every life I take, human or not, will be for no other purpose than my own.” She seemed strangely proud of this fact.
The maiden’s words brought a tingle to the back of Aryaunna’s neck. Could this woman, nye a woman but creature, mean her harm? Was she dangerous? Clearly-but to whom, Aryaunna wondered.
“You’ve yet to tell me about this prophecy,” Aryaunna noted, changing the topic smoothly.
“So it seems.” The Wood Nymph’s cheeks became hallow as her golden eyes rounded. Her fair skin paled to the white of snow. The look in her eyes could cut with a knife. Her lips grew dark and glistened as if they’d become hard. “The prophecy tells of the grown child. The child without innocence with but one weakness. Once damned, she will bring salvation to the lost and destroy the riotous. Life is made forfeit as the Guardians grant their power unto the child and will her to hand.” Evangeline’s voice did not seem her own as she spoke of the prophecy.
Sighing out heavily, her shoulders slumped as her head bowed forward. “Are you all right?” Aryaunna questioned, placing a hand onto the maiden’s shoulder.
When she looked up, her face had regained her more human features. “Yes. I’m quite fine now.” A slight smile came to her lips though she looked tired now. “Just a bit drained is all.” Letting a sigh pass her lips, she seemed sorry as she looked to Aryaunna. “I wish the prophecy was a happier one for you.”
Folding her hands together, bracing her elbows onto knees, Aryaunna leaned forward as she thought about it. “I didn’t know what all it would mean to swear myself to the Guardians, but no part of me regrets it as some might think. Everyone seems to think I’ve given up everything now. I just don’t see it that way.” She gazed out at the trees and the Hollow just beyond. Small lanterns lit the streets between houses and doorways.
“The Guardians have given me more than anyone will ever understand. They gave me freedom, released me from my pain. I understand my life going forward won’t be blissful, let alone easy. But it never was to begin with.” Aryaunna looked back at the maiden without sitting up. “If there is anything I can do to keep people from suffering as Elizabeth and I had, I’ll do it. I’m only sorry I cannot do more.”
A sad smile spread her pale pink lips. “Brianna and Levy were their names. They were good people, kind and generous. Like you, Aryaunna, they knew the risks of taking me in. They did it anyways. Brianna told me before they took us to the stakes that she held no regrets for her actions.”
It wasn’t of real comfort, but it was a small relief to hear these words. Aryaunna looked back towards the Hollow. She’d hoped to learn more from the maiden, but in all truth she knew there was little anyone could tell her that would help her know what to do. There was nothing else she wanted to hear about the future just then.
“The Drow are going to have a feast soon. Every day I can feel the tension building. One should always find a reason, even if they have to make one, to find joy in their days. It would be good if you came to the celebration.” Somehow, Aryaunna had the distinct feeling that Evangeline was preparing to leave. Looking back at her, the hesitation was clear in the Wood Nymph’s eyes. “They want to honor the lives of your friends, Brianna and Levy.”
“It’s kind of them to do so. They should be honored. I shall certainly be there.” Wistfully, the Wood Nymph looked to the heavens above. “Tonight, though, I must fly.”
Without having to look at the Nymph, Aryaunna could feel the stir of magic beside her. Chin still lifted to the skies above let the moon light wash over her pale features. She was a beautiful creature, elegant. Her cheeks hallowed as she began to morph from a fair young woman to the great white owl.
Shoulders lifting, her spine began to ripple as a new form took hold. Her skin seemed to shimmer and fade as if she were more spirit than being. Her body became iridescent. In moments the woman beside Aryaunna was gone.
The owl looked up at her as its wings spread wide, not for flight but to feel their strengt
h. “What wonder it must be to fly,” though she spoke aloud the thoughts were for herself. “Peace be with you.”
Suddenly the owl lifted off from its perch, gracefully taking flight as if the air had surrounded her to carry her high above the trees. Aryaunna’s gaze followed the owl up through the forest until she had disappeared from sight. The hour was growing late, and her body tired and hungry. Hands on her knees she braced her tired body to stand when she happened to look down. Something out of place had gotten her attention.
There beside her upon the fallen tree was a single white feather. If it had fallen on the snow, she’d not have seen it for they matched perfectly. Picking it up, she admired its perfect shape and color. Brushing her fingers lightly over the barbs she felt the silky texture as she recalled what Allos had said.
Feathers of Owl Maidens were great gifts. Unbuttoning her vest, she carefully tucked the feather inside a hidden pocket inside the lining. Re-buttoning her vest, she stood up, gathered quiver and bow, and returned home to the Hollow.
Through the night Aryaunna found sleep would not come. Though she’d taken to sleeping fully dressed, she even tried to kick her boots off. Her belt had been hung over a large spike she’d had to tack in next to her bed. After a couple hours of tossing and turning, she sat up sluggishly. She was tired. But her mind couldn’t rest.
Elizabeth rolled onto her side, facing Aryaunna though she didn’t open her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she confessed. “Sorry to keep you up.”
“It’s all right. I don’t mind. Is there anything I can do?”
“You never have.” A soft laugh fell from her lips though it was weak and interrupted by a yawn. “Nye. I’m going to go see if Mayla is up. Perhaps she has something that might help.” Pulling her boots to her by her toes, Aryaunna tugged them on and buckled them up her shins. “At least if I’m not in here tossing, I won’t keep you awake.”
