Dark Wood: Legends of the Guardians

by Unknown

  His body was soaked with the crimson essence, much of it dried, yet plenty of it fresh. Most of which belonged to fallen enemies, though some indeed was his own. Raif’s face crumpled upon looking at her.

  “Raif?” the whisper of his name, a question unanswerable. Something was horribly wrong. “Sita!” she screamed as she went running, not for her horse but for the woods whence Raif had come. Sita came running from the west, straight for Aryaunna who hadn’t slowed in pace. The horse wouldn’t collide but when they’d meet, Sita would be right in front of her.

  Aryaunna kept running. As Sita grew closer she lunged, grabbing the saddle horn as her feet kicked air beneath her, hauling herself up. Sita had never run so fast in that next moment. She tore through the trees. Small limbs that hadn’t the chance to be brushed aside whipped against the horses chest, leaving small slices where the bark cut hide.

  Silently, Aryaunna urged her friend faster. Neither knew what they were riding into, but both knew that it wasn’t battle that Aryaunna faced now. It was worse.

  Sita came to a dead stop in the silent village. No light penetrated from the skies above, leaving everything dark and haunted. Frightful, glistening eyes gazed around her. Nothing but quiet. Or was it?

  Slow and careful she slid off the horse’s back to the ground, landing with a soft thud of her boots. The sound was so soft it could barely be heard amongst the sound of the wind. Breathing. Hastened, anxious, hitching every few breaths.

  Eyes wide, she took one step at a time, slowly closer to the building. It wasn’t coming from inside, but behind it. The thought of reaching for her blades never crossed her mind. Her hands didn’t shake, for they had gone cold and drained of blood from being held in such tight fists.

  Even in the dark she could see them. The slick sheen of sweat, blood, and mud outlined Allos’ naked back and curved shoulders. Slowly she walked. Standing above Allos and her sister, her mouth hung parted. She couldn’t look away.

  Startled by the sudden intruder Allos took up the sword on the ground beside him and aimed as a deep throttle rattled his throat. Whatever he saw, it was not Aryaunna.

  Aryaunna fell to her knees, barely realizing the threat on her life. As if it clicked inside of her that he was going to kill her, their eyes locked. Even in the dead of night, it was as if they could see each other almost perfectly. They stared at one another, both realizing the moment.

  As if the sword suddenly weighed too much, his hand fell to the earth. “I wasn’t fast enough…” he croaked. Together, they looked down at Elizabeth, cradled to his chest by his other arm.

  “I asked her to stay.” They each professed their guilt.

  Allos’ tears striped his cheeks as he sobbed, clutching her tighter with his newly freed hand.

  Doubling over, Aryaunna’s head laid down on the ground, chin against her knees. Her hands clutched tightly over her head, as if she could shrink herself so small she might disappear. Her cries were so tortured that they were silent as tears rained down.

  Reign sat beneath the great stone arch, unmoving, though his gaze struggled to keep watch of those around him. Three Guardians encircled him. Two paced back and forth on either side of him as one sat still. Verona. The most ethereally of them all. White, but unlike Reign. Pure light in solid form. She was magnificent as she was terrifying.

  The Guardians to Reign were so many things; brothers, sisters, mother, father, child, lovers, and Gods. The two that paced at his sides circled around behind him to cross paths to the other side.

  Laviathis crossed over to his left. He would have been unseen if not for the day light of dawn casting light into the valley. A solid black Dragon, his scales did not glisten but were matte like coal as he was built like a mountain. A Guardian of fire, his wrath rained like lava. Genocien stalked along his right side, long serpentine tongue tasting the war on the air. He was the most snake like of them all, body seeming to change colors as he twisted about. Light changed his body to appear in every shade of green.

  Every part of Reign felt his curse pulling against him, Aryaunna. He could feel her calling. Something was horribly wrong. He was bound so tightly to the Guardian’s child that her pain was truly his own. He needed to go to her.

  The three that surrounded him had made quite certain that wouldn’t happen however. “I have done everything you’ve asked of me,” he spoke low, unable to meet their eyes for the pain in his chest.

  “Strange, I don’t recall asking you to give your essence to a human,” Laviathis spoke gravely as he spat the last word, flames spitting from his tongue. Reign flinched as fire hit his already injured wing.

  “Nor do I,” hissed Genocien.

  Verona had yet to speak.

  Reign looked back and forth between Genocien and Laviathis before gazing up to Verona, who sat perched upon a large bolder.

  “She was dying. The Emissary has not fulfilled her destiny yet. What choice did I have but to keep her alive at all costs?”

  “There were other ways!” They’d been vehement and clear that he should never had left her side.

  “You know the punishment this carries, Reign. No one is exempt, not even the Emissary and her champion,” Genocien reminded. In their histories Dragons had been tricked, even forced, to give their essence to humans. It had ended in tragedy for their entire race.

  “It was my choice. She doesn’t even know what has happened to her yet. No punishment should befall the girl.” Though he spoke to them all, his gaze remained upon Verona.

  “You would take it upon yourself to spare her?” Verona spoke for the first time. A question Reign couldn’t quite place echoed in the Guardian’s voice.

  “Aye.” Reign’s head bowed, showing his surrender.

  Both Genocien and Laviathis started to retort when Verona’s wings spread wide, silencing them instantly. “So be it. Let him be rendered of his dignity.”

  The two at his sides lunged for Reign, attacking him with all the fury a Dragon had. Reign did not fight back. His maw parted, releasing the most agonized cry that roared out into the sky. In seconds Laviathis and Genocien had ripped the wings from his body, leaving bloody stumps of bone jutting from his back.

  Falling to the earth with a thunderous sound, Reign groaned out. His gaze slowly rolled up as he watched Verona saunter down from her perch slowly as if this were leisurely for her-killing the last Dragon.

  She filled his gaze, blocking Laviathis out of his peripheral. He knew death was imminent, and she his executioner. Still yet, he couldn’t release her from his gaze. Though Reign did not fight his Guardians, he felt betrayed by them. He’d done everything they had asked and more. For it he was facing punishment of death. The deceit angered him, though in yielding, perhaps he would keep her safe yet.

  Verona could see all of this in his eyes. “You love her, don’t you?” she asked in such a low whisper the others couldn’t hear them. Too weak to answer, his eyes clinched shut. If Verona couldn’t see the truth in his eyes, maybe it would keep Aryaunna safe. Even suspecting the truth wasn’t as bad as knowing for certain. He did love her. He loved her more than there were words for the emotion. Aryaunna was more sacred to Reign’s heart than the Guardians. She was the embodiment of hope, not just for her people, or for Reign, but for all kind. Faye and Mortal alike.

  “I’m not going to kill you, Reign,” Verona spoke against his ear. “What I have in mind is going to be much more painful.”

  Her great talons grabbed his throat in her monstrously beautiful hand and pinned him to the ground as her maw stretched wide. Her breath was pure magic, for Verona was the strongest of the Guardians. It enveloped him in her essence as it rendered scale from bone.

  Reign’s screams could be heard for miles, like thunder tearing through the clouds above.

  To be continued…

  Jacquelynn F. Gagne is an artist. When she cannot be found in the real world she is usually found covered in paint, pastels or most usually words. Among writing, photography and art, Jacquelynn has b
een married for ten years and is mother to two incredible boys who take after their parents in every way, for better and worse.

  Jacquelynn began reading at age four, writing by age six, though did not start working on her first novel until January of 2008. Though Jacquelynn has been writing most of her life, it was never her intention to become a professional writer, but when obsession grabs you, it doesn’t tend to let go. In addition to writing, Jacquelynn enjoys reading everything she can get her greedy little hands on. She is positively click happy when handed a camera and often has acrylics coating her fingernails instead of polish from her most recent painting. Currently she lives in Springfield, Missouri with her husband, James, and their two sons. She has declared to one day build a library that will substitute as her house.

  Note from the author,

  There is something that is just pure magic about literature. No matter what you’re reading, it holds the possibility of all things, and that is magic! Every story has the potential to give you any and every emotion: love, fear, excitement, sadness, joy, anger, and so much more. There is no purer sense of humanity than emotion. Literature is the quintessential of art. Through words alone we have the ability to create and step into any universe imaginable. Imaginable! And what limit is there to the human imagination? Absolutely none.

  To create a book, a novel or otherwise, there is this magnificent feeling of accomplishment but it goes so much further than that. We’ve taken part in creating a completely new existence. Another dimension comes to life with every word we put on the page. We fall in love with these characters like we do with our partners and our children. They’re not just characters, but lives that we give birth to that every reader recreates again and again. For me to finally complete this story and to show it to the world is one of my personally proudest moments. So thank you, to all of those who have come this far. The journeys we’re to share together through these pages are going to be absolutely unforgettable.

  Book One of the Blood Saga

  Book Two of the Blood Saga