Dark Wood: Legends of the Guardians

by Unknown

  “What?” she whined at him, as if he were disturbing her.

  “Thank the Guardians, I thought we’d lost you,” he breathed out with only some relief. Only some, for she was only barely alive. “I never should’ve left you.”

  “Oh shut up,” she mumbled as she pried her eyes open. “Where are the others? And the army?”

  “Our people live. The army of Kenan is defeated and Valhanna is falling back.”

  “Help me up,” she interrupted him. Raising her hand up, only for it to fall back, she dropped the sword again. “Get me my sword.”

  As she struggled to sit up, his hand kept her down with only the pressure on the side of her face. “No, Ary. You shouldn’t move.” Her gaze found his eyes. He was stricken, not just for the blood shed he’d seen, but something more.

  “Am I dying?” she asked in a confused breath.

  “I won’t let that happen. Raif has gone to get Elizabeth.” His hand took her right in a tight grasp. “You’re going to be fine.” He was lying. It was the blood loss taking her. Letting her go for just a second, she called for him not to leave as he ripped his leather off, followed quickly by his tunic. She screamed out as he grabbed a firm grip on her shoulder, holding the tunic against her to suppress the bleeding.

  “Reign?” she asked in a soft sob, as tears fell down her cheeks leaving streaks through the blood.

  “Reign! Reiggggn!” Allos cried to the heavens desperately. The Dragon had healed her before, he thought.

  Reign was already coming for her.

  The massive Dragon crashed into the hillside, with even less of his usual finesse. Rearing back, he reached out to his wing, and ripped the spear out. Throwing it down to the ground, he ran for her. Allos barely had time to skid back from her as Reign was running as he slid to a stop at her side. His body fell over onto his side, throwing his weight and digging talons into the earth to stop. “No,” he breathed out rasping.

  A small smile spread her lips. “My Reign.” Slowly he reached his monstrous hand out for hers. Her fingers were exposed from her gloves. Gingerly she touched one of his diamond hard claws. She looked up to him with the same awe she’d looked upon him with the first night.

  “Aryaunna…” His long fingers carefully wrapped around her hand.

  “I’m dying, Reign.” She looked apologetic. Another tear fell down her cheek. “Elizabeth can’t heal wounds like this. I’ve lost too much. Can you?”

  “I have no fire left, Ary.” Her smile softened, understanding. She couldn’t say anything else. Tears fell freely from her eyes. It took a lot of effort to raise her left arm and touch the small beadlike scales of his cheek. She traced the pale patterns around his magnificent eyes gently. “I can heal you, Aryaunna… But like the last gift, it comes with a price,” he warned. What he did not tell her, was the price was his to pay. Her lips parted to ask, but he shook his head and brushed the smooth glasslike surface of a claw over her lip. “Lie still, my Ary, and close your eyes.” Folding her hands against her stomach he watched as she closed her lids slowly.

  Allos sat on his knees, just feet from them. Waiting, fearful and hopeful all at once. “Allos, shield your eyes,” Reign instructed. He did so, barely fast enough to keep the brilliant light from blinding him instantly. Reign wrapped his wings like a cocoon around Aryaunna. Only Allos was close enough to risk being impacted by it.

  Reign’s scaled hand, with long fingers and deadly talons carefully placed against the side of Aryaunna’s face. Her eyes opened, strangely not bothered by the light. Their gazes locked, he whispered out to her the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. It was like a poem, but the words were foreign to her. The strangest white sheet seemed to drape over them. It was so bright that all she could see were his eyes. Night had fallen. But was the dawn rising already? Had they fought that long, she wondered.

  Then she felt it. Her back arched off the ground. It felt like he was holding her up. His body radiated warmth. Something seemed to touch her body, fingers or tendrils, tracing against her skin from her head to her toes beneath the armor and clothes. Each one took extra care of her wounds. Like heat warming her body, the touch melted into her skin, knitting each wound and flowing through her blood.

  His voice seemed to whisper through her, but it was loud. Not uncomfortable like when she heard Allos calling her name, this was beautiful. In that moment she thought she could spend the rest of her life like that. However long that may or may not be, she wondered at.

  The warmth filled her, like building pressure. She felt swollen with the building force as it pushed against even her bones. It squeezed her lungs, pushing out her last breath making her gasp sharply. The tendrils of pressure moving over the outside of her body honed in on her wounds. Her legs, back, arms, shoulders, everywhere. They wrapped around each exposed tearing of flesh.

  In the very center of her chest, all the pressure compounded. The effect was to feel her body burst with power and energy. It was magic. Suddenly she could breathe again; intaking a deep breath sharply.

  Her hands clinched tightly with the sudden overwhelming shock coursing through her body. One hand clinched around a much less human hand. Reign. Relief seemed to overwhelm her. She was safe if she was with him. She knew that to be fact. It was then she was able to recognize a wonderful feeling. Her body felt stronger. There was no pain.

  Reign stood Aryaunna to her feet. The light had faded away. It was full dark. A dark that consumed everything. The stars were not shining that night. Still yet, Aryaunna had little trouble seeing directly around them. Her eyes were sensitive still though from the blinding light. Reign kept his hands upon her shoulders to keep her steady.

  “How do you feel?” he asked low, not in a whisper but as if he were very tired.

  It took her a few moments to really consider his question. Her muscles tensed, squeezed, flexed, rippled throughout her as she tested her body carefully in all places. Nothing hurt at all. Finally her neck rolled from side to side. “I feel strong.” Their gazes met. He seemed to understand.

  Allos stood slowly, looking her over. He seemed concerned, and stunned. “Are you all right?” he questioned wearily.

  After a pause, she looked over her shoulder to him. “I’m good. Tell me about the others.” As she said it, she placed her foot on the chest of the last corpse she’d made. Taking hold of her sword, she pulled it out of him and proceeded to clean the blade off on her pants as she reached for her other.

  “Aryaunna,” Reign interrupted them. “I have to return to Dia. I’ll see to the others but then there’s things I must care for.”

  “The Guardians,” she said in question. He nodded her answer. Aryaunna’s voice lowered, “Reign, what price will be paid?”

  “That’s what I must tend to. You’re safe, and I cannot delay this.” His serpentine neck coiled down to lower his head near to her. “It looks good on you,” he said more to himself as he observed the marks that started by her eyes and twisted downward, still visible through the blood stained skin and dirt. Of course she had no idea what he was talking about.

  The cool scaled flesh of his cheek pressed against her hair. “There could be no more incredible Emissary than you. They chose well.” His hot breath blew against her as he pulled away, blood covered wings spreading. Despite the wound in his wing, Reign took flight. He lift right from the earth without difficulty. In the dead of night, without the star light, he quickly disappeared from sight.

  Allos gave her space until then before he approached her. “The Drow have won, though we lost many. Kolin has captured three soldiers and has a hold of them personally. Raif I sent to get Elizabeth, but clearly that’s not crucial now.”

  “Go after them. I don’t want Elizabeth to see this.” ‘This’ was the mark of war. A ground turned red with blood, crimson snowdrifts scattered the bleeding field. Bodies were being drug into piles. They would be burned together. Reign may even light the pyres. “Go, Allos, we can spare you. The fight is over for now.” Both knew t
hat only one battle had been won. “She needs to know we’re all safe.”

  They were walking together in the direction of the wood. The horses had been set loose, and were all standing by in the wood. Each one waiting for their master’s call. Many would not hear that call, as they’d belonged to the soldiers that had fallen.

  Cupping her hands to her mouth, Aryaunna whistled, more bird like than human. A minute later Sita and Allos’ unnamed gelding came briskly through the forest to meet them. “Do you want to take Sita?” Aryaunna offered.

  “No. Best she stay with you.” Allos had abandoned the horse just before they’d met the army. Grabbing the saddle, he lifted himself up and mounted the gelding. “I’m going to take her to Dia, so we can help the others. Stay safe, Aryaunna.” Stepping up to them, Aryaunna reached out and took Allos’ hand in hers tightly. Their fingers wrapped one another’s palms. “You should know Raif had fought to get to you so that he could watch your back. His brother died early in the night. You should say something to him later.” She understood. A forced smile separated them as Allos took to the woods.

  Lifting one foot to the stirrup, Aryaunna was seated swiftly on Sita’s back. Without hesitating, they took off to the other side of the hill to find the others.

  It was a softer sound than war yet still so distinguishable for it was only a lesser version. Allos rode harder, urging the gelding to race through the trees. Raif was there, arrow sticking out of his arm, wielding his sword with all his fury.

  Allos’ body was so tense with adrenaline that everything seemed to slow down as he took in the whole scene. Raif was battling two armed soldiers. Elizabeth was brandishing a fallen limb against another soldier.

  Sword in hand, back and ready for the swing, he watched as he rode. With both hands she swung the branch back and hit him against the face. Limbs lashed at him, but the branch broke. Reaching out, the soldier grabbed the end of the broken limb. Elizabeth was so dedicated to defending herself, she didn’t let go. The soldier pulled her close against him. His long dagger slid into her stomach like a hot knife through butter.

  The sound that screeched out of Allos’ throat was agony. His body screamed no as his mouth yelled her name. The sound alerted the soldier. Elizabeth fell to the ground as he turned to face a new adversary. Her fresh blood coated the blade he wielded for the geldings throat to bring Allos down.

  Allos had gathered himself up and leapt from the horse’s back, sword ready and dove it straight into his chest before the dagger could reach him. The man’s eyes widened in horror as he looked down at the blade sticking out of his torso as Allos fell atop him.

  He didn’t wait to see him die as Allos rolled up to his feet to fall back beside Elizabeth. “No, no, no, no,” he begged. Filthy hands gently slid to cup her neck, angling her chin up at him. It was a too familiar sight. He’d just seen her sister like this, dying beneath his helpless hands. Hot tears fell from his eyes, splashing down onto her flushed cheeks.

  Hands clutching to her stomach, she looked up at him with a sad smile on her lips. Slowly her hand came up, touching to his bristly cheek. His large palm cupped her hand to his face. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. Not yet, not like this,” he begged of her.

  “I’ll not be far,” she whispered. “Stay with her. Promise you’ll stay with her,” Elizabeth demanded in a feeble breath.

  “I do. I swear.” His face tightened, fighting the sobs that threatened to take him then with the tears running down his face. “I need you.”

  “I love you.” Glistening wet blue eyes smiled up at him as he kissed her fingers, whispering that he loved her over and over. It was a good way to die. Better than she’d hoped for, she thought. Her eyes closed.

  Wracked with pain, his whole body shook and sobbed as he held her lifeless body to him tightly.

  Aryaunna and Zane stood clear on the other side of the hillside, amongst the second army of fallen soldiers. It was clear from significant amount of torched corpses throughout the hill of Brisheer that they’d not have been successful without Reign’s aid. There’d not be much left for the pyres.

  Zane had looked upon her marks without remark. Few were able to find many words since the fighting had ended. “It is good to see you safe,” he said instead. With a taught nod, she agreed the same of him as they met one another and began to walk through the battlefield together. “Wounded?” he asked, knowing he held plenty of his own injuries, but wanting to know of hers.

  “Not anymore,” she said vaguely. “I feel all right,” she assured after a strange glance in response. “Tense though. I don’t feel like this is anywhere close to done. It’s not over, Zane.”

  “They say tragedy comes in threes,” he remarked as he looked out across an ocean of bodies.

  “Whoever they are, I don’t think I like them anymore.”

  “Aye,” he agreed with a painful barking laugh.

  “You realize I have to go after the Magistrate.” They stopped and looked to one another. “If I don’t, another army will come. I imagine that it would be soon. There’s only one way to end this.”

  All around them, Drow were gathering their wounded, patching up those that could walk and carrying those that couldn’t. Zane lead her to a small grouping. Two Drow stood, weapons brandished. They looked especially menacing in their warriors’ leather, white ghostly paint marking their faces and blood smears covering them. Aryaunna noticed one in particular had blood covering his mouth. It was easy to forget their razor sharp teeth were weapons as well.

  Between them, three beaten and bloody men sat on the ground. They’d been stripped of their armor and weapons, left with only their tunics and trousers to protect them from the cold.

  “They surrendered?” Aryaunna questioned.

  “When they realized they were the only ones still standing, yes.” Zane informed.

  Leaning close to Zane she kept her voice low, “Trust me.”

  “I already do,” he assured as she turned to face the three on the ground.

  Stepping close to them, she pulled the black sword from her left, still grimy with blood. She’d barely wiped the blade clean. “This is simple. I only need one of you to talk. Who will it be?”

  One of them started to ramble incoherently. It earned him an elbow in the face from his comrade beside him. “Brutus has children, you cowardly piece of shit! If she means to leave one alive, let it be him.”

  Tears ran white streaks over muddy cheeks and blended with the blood that ran over his mouth. The one who’d spoken first and thus been hit was slimmer and younger than the other two. Kneeling in front of him, she balanced on the balls of her feet as she held the tip of the sword against the ground between her feet.

  “You want me to spare this one?” Aryaunna had met the eyes of the man in the middle, older, husky, fat in his middle, and nodded to the one she assumed to be Brutus. “What about you, do you have children?”

  He said nothing, glaring at her. The tip of the blade arced through the air to point at him. “Two. They’re grown,” he said with an edge of anger.

  She looked to the bleeding one still crying. “But you don’t. Are you even married?” His head shook as he stared to his feet. “How old are you?”

  “Nineteen,” he whispered, as if even his age was something to be shameful of.

  “A long life ahead of him, no wonder you were quick to try and save yourself.” The tip of her blade met Brutus’ throat, touching his Adam’s apple. “Is there another army?” she looked between the other two for her answer.

  “Not in Valhanna,” the older one answered.

  The blade nicked skin. “Where?”

  “Parthia,” the boy answered when a trickle of blood began to run down the man’s neck.

  “This army will fight for Dalton and the Magistrate?”

  The two looked confused. “Dalton is dead,” Brutus answered, careful of the blade against his throat.

  The blade dropped down. As she stood, she swept it back into its sheath a
t her side. “You will all three walk away from here if you tell me what I need to know.” They looked past her to the Drow. “You have my word, and my word is better than you will get from your own.

  Valhanna’s king had come home in a wooden box. The acting Regent had already forged a spoken alliance with Kenan to keep trade among the lands plentiful. When the Magistrate called for aid, he promised with it territory to strengthen Valhanna against all possible foes so they wouldn’t appear weak.

  It wouldn’t be enough. There was word an empire, though leagues away, was rumored to be on the way to conquering everything in its path. Romans. If Kenan or Valhanna were to stand a chance, they needed a stronger ally. Parthia.

  True to her word, she set the wounded soldiers upon horseback and sent them home. There was no food or water to send them with, so she sent them with bandages and told them where to look for the right clay to care for their wounds after she packed their injuries herself.

  “You should have killed them.” One of the Drow who’d been charged to guard them. The one with the blood stained mouth.

  “She did just as she should have,” Zane spoke from behind her.

  The pounding of hooves upon the earth pulled her attention away from the angry Drow to behind her. One horse, one rider. Raif. A slight smile brought to her lips. It was good to see the face of a friend amongst so much darkness. Dusting charcoal from her hands she nodded towards Raif as he rode closer.

  Upon a horse, black as coal, with skin so dark as his, he almost disappeared into the night. Her eyes however could discern shapes easily even within the absence of light. His height, his hair, even the edge of his armor made it clear that he was nye foe, but friend.

  “Raif, have Allos and Elizabeth gone to Dia? Is there any sign of the others?”

  He did not answer. Dismounting his steed, he turned to face Aryaunna. Shoulders terse, brow furrowed and mouth drawn into a hard line, he looked upon her. Words seemed to escape him. How could he tell her he’d failed? It was then she saw the very fresh blood leaking from a deep wound in his shoulder.