Dark Wood: Legends of the Guardians

by Unknown

  Automatically they both looked up. “They are incredible, aren’t they?” Reign spoke in reverence.

  As they walked up, Aryaunna took a hold of Reign’s wing to aid in keeping her balance as they traveled up a steep slope along the side of the mountain. It was a difficult time, but was well worth the view.

  Beneath her fingertips his wings felt like slick stone, warm to the touch. A stone that flexed and curved at his will. With his guidance the two made it swiftly up the side of the mountain, though Aryaunna was out of breath by the time they reached the ledge that acted as a balcony to the cave’s entrance.

  “Are you going make it?” Reign asked with a boisterous laugh that echoed like thunder through the sky.

  “Shut it, Dragon,” she spat with her rasping breath. Having at last reached their destination she dropped down to her knees and laid back slowly. A strange sensation almost like vertigo waft through her body as she laid back. Being able to see nothing but the sky almost made her feel like she was flying.

  “What’s it like to fly?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

  A moment of silence lingered in the air, as if he were recalling a moment, or maybe a sensation. “It is the most incredible feeling in all of existence. It is to become a star, looking down from heaven. To feel as if you, the air, and the clouds have become one. To be nothing, yet to be a part of everything.”

  With the same longing, they took in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh.

  Light as a feather his fingers brushed across her jaw, tracing her body as if to paint it. Their gazes were locked. Even in the dark, she could see his hazel eyes shine. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Are you sure you’re real?” Elizabeth laughed at his question.

  “Perhaps not. With you I’m not certain.”

  “Some Seer you are,” Allos teased more as he leaned down and kissed against her cheek.

  Elizabeth lay on top a heavy fur throw over raw limestone floor. The fire had not been lit in his room. They’d been too preoccupied with one another to think about it.

  Dragging kisses down her neck, he followed the arch of her shoulder, over her supple breast to her slender stomach. Her hands roamed over his biceps and shoulders-just about anywhere she could touch. “I rather like it. You’re the perfect distraction to keep from worrying over life’s what ifs. Can I keep you?”

  A broad smile spread his face. “Glad you see fit to. Because I don’t think you’d ever be able to get rid of me now.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “It is.”

  Sliding his arms around her, he pulled her to lie over his chest as he laid back. “You, lady, are good for my heart.” Lifting her hand, he kissed the back before kissing each of her fingers as he linked theirs together. “Do you think anyone realizes?”

  “No. Mayla says I seem happier now that I’m adjusting to life here. But everyone else is too busy to take much notice. Aryaunna has so much on her shoulders that she’s surely too preoccupied to notice such a thing.” Nestling her cheek against his ribs, she pressed her ear against him to hear the steady drum of his heart. In response the arm wrapped around her grew tighter. “Besides, it wouldn’t bother her really. It’s not that I don’t want people to know, I just don’t want to draw attention.”

  “It makes no matter to me.” A shrug of his shoulders casually confirmed. “Your life is your own. I’m just pleased to have a part in it.”

  “If just a part of my life, you’ve taken all of my heart.” Unable to keep from it, she gave a laugh to hide behind the truth of her words. She looked almost afraid to say it.

  “I love you, Eli,” he said almost in reassurance as he met the fear in her eyes with strength. “Marry me.” Wide eyed, she looked up at him nervously. Not saying a word, his knuckles brushed along her cheek tenderly. As if her body had some need to be closer to his, her arms tucked tighter around him. “I’m serious,” he encouraged when she didn’t say anything.

  “You are?” her words were so quiet he could barely hear her.

  “Absolutely. Say you’ll be my wife.”

  “I will.”

  Weeks had passed in a silent fury. Aryaunna had thrown herself knee deep into training. Not just to fight, but she’d taken a strong interest in treating wounds and care for the health of others as well. Mayla taught her everything she could, trying to fit a lifetime of knowledge into as little time as possible.

  Her days were long, and her nights were longer. She slept in short slumbers throughout the day rather than through the night. As if on autopilot she couldn’t stop moving. When no one else was awake to keep her attention, she rode.

  “You’re riding again? Don’t you think you should sleep at some point, Aryaunna?” Lena stood next to Sita, running a hand from the front of her neck and back slowly. “You’re going to ware her out.”

  “She loves the night rides the best. I will see to it that she gets plenty of rest.” Aryaunna placed her foot in the saddle’s stirrup. She wasn’t used to the saddle yet. Neither of them were. But this was best for Sita’s back. Not to mention the saddle, when fully equipped, could carry a surplus of supplies and gear.

  Swinging her leg over the saddle, she settled into its hard curved surface. Adjusting her belt, she made herself comfortable as she lift the reins in her hands. Lena’s brow deepened as her gaze caught the glint of a black hilt at Aryaunna’s side. A slow smile of pride spread the Drow’s lips. “You’re always ready, aren’t you?”

  Their eyes locked. What pulled at Aryaunna’s lips could nay be called a smile, but perhaps a grimace of acknowledgement. Shifting her weight, her hand flopped the leather straps over the mare’s neck to the right side.

  Sita began to walk along the wearing path slowly. This was their leisure time together. With barely a notice, Aryaunna dipped her head to avoid certain limbs that hung low. They tread on at a slow pace through the trees.

  Aryaunna’s hands ran up Sita’s neck until she was laid over her. A large low limb passed over them, barely missing Aryaunna’s back.

  Cool air kissed her exposed skin sharply. It was a welcome touch. Her eyes adjusted easily to the dead of night. It was easy to see the black limbs and dead grass beneath melting snow. Spring wasn’t near. It was just a lull in the snow fall.

  The clump of hooves and brush of the horse’s body moving through the woods was a calming sound. Fingers brushed through the fine hair on the horse’s neck. It was like velvet. Even the smell of the horse had a peaceful tranquility to it: hay, grain, oak, and the creature’s own musk.

  Sita’s pace quickened steadily. The trees were thinning, making the mare’s excitement grow. Her hands tightened, one on a slight lip of the saddle, the other on the horse’s mane.

  The moon was dark that night, so she couldn’t easily see the meadow open before them. Aryaunna knew it was coming because Sita’s brisk pace broke into an easy run. Hanging on tightly to the saddle, Aryaunna arched her body back. Her head hung back, lifting her chin to the heavens. Her gaze journeyed to the stars. Tiny specs of glittering stones a million leagues away.

  They rode together freely for hours. Aryaunna finally fell asleep lying against Sita’s back.

  It was Sita’s whinny that woke her as the horse started to twist back and forth restlessly. Hooves stomped the frozen ground anxiously. “Sita?” Aryaunna questioned in a grog as she sat up. Her hands moved about looking for the reins.

  Sita’s feet kicked back before suddenly she took off. Grabbing a tight hold of the saddle and horse’s mane, Aryaunna ducked down low to avoid incoming limbs. Beyond the sound of pounding hooves she heard something else.

  Screaming.

  Aryaunna’s body tensed, tightening her legs on the horse as she leaned forward, hunched down low as her right hand pulled free one long blade from her belt with practiced ease. Racing into the fog was disconcerting. Sita slowed and turned about, momentarily lost. It wasn’t fog, it was smoke.

  “Sita!” Aryaunna pleaded in angst as she ti
ghtened her heels on the mare. At a careful quick trot, Sita pushed on, barely avoiding trees until an orange glow came into view. The mare bolted towards the light.

  Determination pounded through the mare’s hooves as they ran up on the village. Three structures were in flames. It was the most horrific thing Aryaunna had ever laid eyes upon. A massive, most ancient tree stood tall in a golden molten glow. The bark was a crawl with fire, spread wide up to the tangle of limbs.

  Beneath the tree fire rained down as the flames ate away at every limb. Pieces crumbling away to coal and ash fell like rain drops.

  A man in a red tunic ran out from the back of a large building. Sita came up on him as Aryaunna leaned out silently. One powerful sweep of her blade cut through the back of his neck, all but removing his head from his shoulders. The man collapsed and Sita kept going.

  “Veyn, Veyn!” Aryaunna called as she twisted her body back, throwing herself off the horse’s back. Running, she caught the boy around the shoulders. Spinning on his heel he reared his small dark fist back to hit her until he saw her for who she was. Shaking arms hugged tight around her as if holding on for dear life. “Veyn, take Sita, get everyone out,” she ordered as she pried him off of her.

  The boy was so stunned she feared he may not listen, but the young lad nodded ferociously as he turned and ran for the mare. Like a leaf on the wind, he was up in the saddle in less than a second, reins in his grasp as Sita took off with him.

  Before he was mounted, Aryaunna had brandished her second sword. Her feet were swift as they carried her through the village and her blades quicker yet. Coming up on another man with pale pink skin, she pierced right through the branded tunic into his spine. Twisting her wrist sharply, she withdrew the sword as he crumpled. Too good to leave him to his pain, she slit his throat with the other sword and kept on.

  She took down three more before finding Sola bowed over in hysterical sobs in the dirt. “No,” Aryaunna let out in a ragged breath. She’d stumbled over dead Drow already, but none she’d known well yet.

  At once she sheathed both blades and came down around Sola, her arms wrapping about the girl. “Sola, we have to get you out of here,” she insisted despite Sola’s fighting and screaming.

  The young woman’s body was covered in the blood of her husband. Clutching her belly, she sobbed as her soul shattered, the only world she’d ever known burning around them.

  Unable to carry her to safety alone, Aryaunna guided her to the edge of the wood, cast into shadow. “Sola, you will stay here until someone comes for you,” it was poor guidance, but she had no words of comfort. “If you know them, then they will help, if you do not, then you must run, and do not stop until you are safe. Do you understand me?” She received no response. The look of pain and horror was clear in the large blue eyes of the pregnant Drow woman.

  “Sola,” Aryaunna grabbed the woman’s shoulders tightly, jarring her for her complete attention. “Where is Elizabeth?” Nothing. She shook her shoulders sharply. “Have you seen Elizabeth?”

  Tears flowed over the lids of her eyes and down ashen cheeks. Sola was an empty vessel. Sanding, she spun on her heels and took off again. The girl was as safe as she could be.

  A cry rang out that sounded like a hoarse feminine screech, but its vessel belonged to a balding man with a roughly shaven face. His body seemed too thin to carry the chainmail beneath the heavy tunic. No armor suited these men but they were prepared to fight, clearly. A scarred sword held tight in his double fists above his head. As he cried out the blade held high and true as he ran at Aryaunna with intent to cut her down like a wild sapling.

  Weight pitching onto her left foot, her hips bucked, twisting her forward and left as her blades rose to meet his and stop it midair as it came down for her skull like an axe to winter’s wood. He was no more than a head above her, but it was a good advantage. Had he not so well announced the assault he might have had some chance.

  Left arm continuing its momentum onward to sweep the man’s sword down, Aryaunna’s right fell free, bringing the blunt hilt of her sword against his face. Blood splattered as he cried out, stumbling back.

  Without relent, she continued the swing forth as he stepped back and put the blade straight through his throat. Before he even registered his own death she had moved on.

  In two steps she defended again. Blades came up, swept down, clashed metal into metal, tearing chunks out of weak steel. Her arm would shoot out, sending her ebony blade deep into the breast of a heathen human who’d seen fit to cut down the Drow by fire.

  Spinning abaft, she met another. His face was fierce with rage. Yet there was no rage to contend with Aryaunna’s that night.

  More than once Allos had told her how true fighting against real enemies, armed and aimed for your head, was a very different sensation from training. In training, though your heart may race, there was no true fear of death. To take on an enemy that wants nothing more than to bleed you dry was another thing entirely.

  He’d been right. It was. A part of her relished in the pleasure of revenge.

  Before it even registered to her, the Church’s assailant fell to his knees. He remained sitting up like that as the life drained out of him, blood pouring from his lips to pool on the ground before him. The spark of life in his eyes was dimming as death fogged his gaze over.

  As he was falling she was moving on. Relentlessly she went after every red tunic she saw, never stopping for a moment of breath. These were not soldiers. This draft of men were sent with a single sword a piece and their greatest weapon of all; fire.

  “Allos!” she called out to him at the sight of his bald head, inked with blue. Like her, he was fighting. Her feet took her swiftly to aid.

  It stunned her when Allos brought his blade to counter hers in what would have been a killing blow. Her eyes widened as she stared up at Allos. Turning their backs to one another automatically, they looked around for the next enemy. No one jumped from the shadows. No soldiers fought other Drow. “It’s over,” he exclaimed with relief.

  Uncertainly, she looked from left to right. The only ones moving were Drow. Drow fighting still to save their families and their home. The horrible sight pained her a great deal. Blades lowered to her side, she turned her back to Allos as a new understanding of defeat washed over her.

  Without thinking she began to walk away. The enemy had been defeated. Now she had to find Elizabeth. Frantically her head darted right to left as she jaunted on. A moment later a large hand fell hard onto her shoulder. She was so tense that her body lurched, a hand raising hilt before she realized it was Allos.

  Looking back, the man he’d been holding was now unconscious, and being drug by the foot by another Drow. “I left Elizabeth with Mayla, tending to the wounded in the main hall.”

  Directed by his grip, she turned to face him. Relief washed through her and it nearly buckled her knees. “They’ve gotten the fires out. Let’s get you to the hall so I can have a proper look at you.” His other large hand had lifted her chin, tilting it right and left. She was so covered in blood it was hard to discern if any of it was hers or not.

  All she could do was nod. “Ary?” he called her name in question as she’d not yet said a word. Her gaze traveled up to meet his eyes, silent question waited his continue. His hand pat firm on her cheek upon note of her dazed look. “Say something,” he directed when she only looked on at him.

  Shaking her head, she pulled away from his touch. “Where’s your shirt?” she asked as she took note of his near nakedness, standing in no more than loose legged pants, tied about his waist by a leather cord wound through the hem. His feet were bare as well. “And your sword,” she added.

  “Ollin took my blade for me when he drug the human off to the arena. It’s the middle of the night, Aryaunna. I was asleep when they attacked.”

  His arms crossed tight over his broad chest, shoulders hunched forward as his jaw set sternly. He was sullen. He felt guilty for sleeping, she realized to her surprise. What was the su
rprise though, that it was in the middle of the night, that he’d been asleep, or that he felt guilty for it?

  Not sure what to say she stepped back and sheathed both blades. The adrenaline that had coursed through her blood was gone. Again he directed her to move by laying a hand on her shoulder. Turning her for the main hall, they walked side by side as a cold rain began to fall.

  Stopping in their tracks, together they looked up at the midnight sky. The shockingly cold large wet drops struck their faces, washing away the drying blood of the dead with each splatter. After a moment’s hesitation they continued on. Aryaunna’s feet drug so slowly that she nearly stumbled over them.

  Inside was spectacularly well lit. Torches and candles burned everywhere. They lined the halls. Lamps hung, burning brightly above head. The further in they walked, the louder everything was. Walking into the main hall they came across the source. Wounded men, women, and children alike were filling the room. Many tables were being used as beds for the badly injured. The hall was filled with the smell of burning grass and herbs to aid the wounded.

  If she hadn’t been looking for her sister, Aryaunna would have fallen to her knees at the painful sight. As it was, she braced herself against a table of supplies so that she could be steady as she looked across the room for Elizabeth.

  Soot covered Elizabeth from head to toe in her black button up night dress. Matched by her pale lily skin and shocking crimson hair she was hard to miss. Her hair was hung down, but she’d tied a long white napkin over it to keep it out of her face.

  Elizabeth was caring for a wounded little girl. The child looked barely more than a toddler. Tears stained Elizabeth’s cheeks as she worked, treating the girl’s burn wounds.

  “Elizabeth,” Aryaunna said as she walked. Her voice not much stronger than a whisper after her throat had been stripped by the inhalation of too much smoke. “Elizabeth!” she called again with more urgency though little more volume.