by Kala Merseal
“He grabbed me and spoke very cryptically.” Ara met Raethin’s stare. “He said that you made a mistake, showing your magick. And when I asked him who he was, he said, ‘Nivar krosai.’”
Raethin’s jaw tightened as he turned away from Ara. He met Max’s eyes, and a silent exchange ensued as they both contemplated her words.
“Is that it?” Raethin demanded.
The gist of it. Ara hesitated in giving details of the creature’s caresses, anxious for Raethin’s reaction. She swallowed and nodded.
“‘I am nothing’,” Raethin repeated in common tongue, mulling over the words. Raethin moved commanded the others to finish so that they could move out.
Ara watched after him, blinking in shock from the smooth shift between his inquisition over her dream to the night’s journey.
Max patted her on the shoulder and smiled.
“Let’s move out,” he said. “We have a long night ahead of us.”
Chapter Six
Silence prolonged across all members of the group as they continued that fourth night. The waning moon casted over them through the trees. Raethin kept close to Ara. His gaze never strayed from her as she walked ahead. Nyphelia and Arlow held hands and Raethin and Ara eyed them, both agitated. Max and Veron reared the group, watching the others with sly smiles.
Dark clouds obscured the moon, and a rumbling sounded in the distance. A fresh, wet scent coated the air as the humidity thickened.
“We’ll need to find cover,” Raethin said and frowned as rain droplets began to pepper across them.
The rain began slow, a mist that grew into a sprinkle. Their pace hurried as harder droplets fell, and soon they used their packs to cover their heads.
“There.” Arlow pointed. They nearly missed the slim opening of a hidden cavern and ran to it for cover, stumbling past the roots and rocks to get inside.
The group huddled within, peering out into the wet night.
A light flashed. Raethin held his hand up, a dim flame lit on a stick, and they studied the rest of the cave. He stood merely a foot away from Ara, confined close together due to the tight space. The illumination distorted and contoured his facial features, and Ara found herself blushing as she looked at the planes of his face. Her gaze swept over his lips as they curved downward.
Then she followed his stare, frowning as several pairs of beady eyes watched them from the cover of a nest. Tiny masked faces peered from dried leaves, their heads tilting in curiosity. The mother raccoon hissed and pulled the babes deeper into the nest, their eyes disappearing.
The nest was several yards into the cave, where the ceiling tapered off into the floor. Though the cave was narrow, there was room enough for the group to spread out and rest in the cramped space. The others scooted past one another and slid to the ground, resting their backs and heads against the smooth, damp stone wall.
Ara stretched her legs out, the flats of her boots resting on the opposite wall.
Veron and Arlow handed out blankets from their bedrolls. The group huddled under the collection of blankets as a chill from the night’s rain sweeping through the cave.
Ara sat between Raethin and Nyphelia. She studied the threads of the blanket, her cheeks flushing as Raethin’s thigh grazed hers when he shifted his legs to find a comfortable position. She averted her gaze when he stilled. His dim flame persisted
Max sat on the other side of Raethin with Veron on his other side.
“We are the most vulnerable now, Rae,” Max mumbled, his whisper audible to Raethin and Ara.
A shiver down Ara’s spine echoed Max’s words. She turned to look at Raethin as she waited for his response.
The intensity within his gaze dimmed the moment Ara caught his stare.
Raethin turned away.
Then the light disappeared, the darkness blinding. Her fingers instinctively gripped Raethin’s arm. She felt him stiffen beside her, then slowly relax under her touch.
“We can no longer use magick, as they can track our traces,” Raethin muttered to everyone. “So, huddle together and keep warm.”
Ara’s fingers slid from his arm onto her lap, her cheeks flaring red.
“Sleep, Ara,” Raethin whispered as his arm wound around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. Ara stiffened, uncertain and anxious from the intimacy.
When Ara would not relax, Raethin sighed.
“Do you dislike me that much?”
“No—”
“Do you think I’m arrogant enough not to consider your feelings and wellbeing?”
“Well—”
“Rest, Ara.” His arm tightened around her shoulder, urging her against his side. “It would be cold of me to not take care of you.”
Slowly, she relaxed into his body, her cheeks heating as her ear rested against his chest, rising and falling with breaths. His heat became nearly overbearing but lulled her to sleep.
For the first time since the night of the Kaevari attack and their fateful escape, Ara slept soundly as Raethin’s warmth chased the nightmares of wicked bone-white teeth, cascades of blood, and chilling caresses.
♦♦♦
The pouring rain continued through the night, isolating the group within the cave. The warriors stayed awake and alert, their nerves on edge. Even as the torrents of rain persisted, none believed that the weather would be an obstacle for the Kaevari.
The ladies slumbered, exhausted from the emotional chaos of the previous day. Ara had relaxed fully into Raethin’s comforting embrace, her reservations abandoned as she fell into a deep rest. Arlow was in the same predicament with Nyphelia snuggled into him, but he relished in it.
Ara laid against Raethin’s lap; her head nestled against a blanket cloister as a makeshift pillow. He held Ara against him, his arm draped over her curled torso. He stiffened each time she stirred, wary that the Ara would awaken and scold him for being so intimate.
Raethin caught Max’s amused look and frowned.
“Do you pity the girl now?” Max questioned. The others still awake piqued at his words, hanging on Raethin’s reply.
“She is my ward.” Raethin averted his eyes. His frown deepened into a grimace when he caught the others watching.
“Yes. But you don’t hate the princess as much,” Max mused. “Do you?”
“I never hated her.” Just severely disliked. Raethin narrowed his gaze to Max. “Your curiosity is getting annoying.”
“Fine.” Max crossed his arms and shifted. He leaned his head against the rock wall. “But I think I am due an acknowledgment.”
“For what?”
“That still, you need my advice and choose to heed it.”
Raethin paused. His irritation from his nosy mentor tapered away. Max had a bad habit of trying to instill wisdom at the worst moments. This moment being one of those, what with Ara nestling against Raethin, fast asleep amid a pile of blankets.
“Like I said.” Raethin grimaced. “I am humble enough to quit my antics when it goes too far.”
“Sure.” Max smiled and closed his eyes.
Rain pattered on as they fell back into comfortable silence, unencumbered by the approaching dawn. Raethin started to relax as the dark night lightened into the first blues of morning, and soon closed his eyes to rest.
His struggle to fall asleep stretched into the early morning. As the first rays of the sun filtered through the cloistered vines obstructing the cave’s entrance, he dipped into deep slumber.
Raethin found himself amid a calm sea, standing on the water’s surface. His feet bare, the wet surface seemed unaffected by his weight. Dull light, as if filtering through a thin, cotton cloth, surrounded him.
He felt a pull and turned, catching sight of a waterfall of dark hair. Ara sat, yards away, her feet dipped into the cold water.
The princess hid her face behind her knees. Her arms wrapped around her legs. A melancholic calm filled the air, tinged with terror.
He took a step, then paused.
“Ara.”
The princess jerked, and her head flew up, revealing swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. That cerulean gaze, contrasting against bloodshot white, widened at the warrior standing before her.
“Oh.” Ara breathed. “It’s you.”
“You were expecting someone else.” Raethin took another step, Trepidation sent chills down his spine.
This dream was too real.
Not a dream at all.
His next step brought him in front of her. She stiffened, leaning her head back to stare up at him.
Hesitantly, she said, “Yes.”
“Who?” Raethin knelt. Their stares leveled. “The demon?”
“Yes.”
They scrutinized each other. Ara seemed to yearn for something but withheld her words. Her tears stopped. She straightened, gaze turning outward as she studied the dim light and calm waters.
Raethin pursed his lips.
“It seems that the demon can’t withstand my light.”
Ara paused again, her wide eyes turning back to study Raethin.
“Protecting me even in my sleep, Commander?”
For the first time since the Kaevari ambush, Ara smiled. And for the first time since Raethin met the princess, her smile disarmed him completely.
♦♦♦
Raethin woke steadily. Sun filtered in through the cave's opening, obscured by vines and the pattering rain as it continued to fall. He stiffened, his eyes drifting down to the slumbering body lying across his lap.
Ara still slept deeply. With that dream Raethin experienced, he had an inkling as to why that was the case. A demon tracked her through her dreams which meant that that very creature could be lurking after them, waiting for the right moment to ambush.
Movement caught Raethin’s attention. He eyed Max as the older elf shifted and stretched.
Max suppressed a yawn, then grinned at Raethin
Raethin frowned and glanced to his left. The others slept, and Raethin was surprised by the sight of Arlow and Nyphelia wrapped tightly together. Had it been that cold? He would scold the half-elf later.
“The rain is letting up.” Max peeked outside.
“Great.” Raethin still scowled as he gently moved Ara away, propping her up against his shoulder. When she woke, she would have no idea that she cuddled against the Commander.
It was best that she did not know the extent of her own vulnerability.
Max raised a brow at him. Raethin ignored the warrior and nudged Ara’s shoulder gently.
It took a moment of gently prodding at the princess to rouse her but when Ara did wake, she blinked through the sleep and looked up at Raethin.
He did not realize how close they were until her astonished cerulean eyes stared at him. He pulled his head back as the princess stiffened and scooted.
Ara bumped into Nyphelia, rousing her as she and Arlow squirmed awake.
“Sorry,” the princess muttered.
Raethin was not sure to whom but he gave a curt nod and moved to stand. Within the cramped space, it was difficult, and he found himself bending his head as to not bump the cave ceiling.
The others quickly followed suit. Max poked his head out the cave’s opening. Rain sprinkled, its stream weakening by the minute. The sun was mid-sky, which meant that most of the morning had passed as the group slumbered away.
“Pack up,” Raethin ordered. “We need to make up for lost time today.”
The forest was humid with the recent rain as they walked. The drizzling ceased but still dampened their clothing. Ara walked closely behind Raethin, her eyes never straying from him. He paid no attention to her but felt her stare and wondered if she remembered the dream. Raethin also wondered what peculiar magick pulled him into her dream.
Arlow and Nyphelia walked ahead of them, together.
Max quipped amused ridicules to the two, and though Nyphelia blushed and Arlow retorted in kind, they refused to break contact.
A frown creased Raethin’s features as at how quickly two people found comfort in one another. Given the seriousness of the situation, Raethin knew that they were dooming themselves to fail.
The group ran from an army of demons which sought after the last Therilean royal. It was only a matter of time before the demons, killed, and devoured. Giving into emotions and comfort would lead to even more heartbreak.
Raethin would not fall for the same — and pitied Arlow for being so soft-hearted. But he would scold them later when they made ample distance from their last resting place. The group settled just long enough to snack on leftover meat and stale bread and to refill their cannisters, then continued.
The sun drifted across the sky too quickly. The group tried to keep up, but soon the sky dimmed as the sun began to set. The forest’s terrain began shifting up as the group approached a hill.
Their pace slowed as they began the incline, stiffening at the impending dread churning in each of their guts. Just as they reached the peak of a hill, Ara gripped Raethin’s sleeve and tugged.
Raethin turned, frowning as he followed the princess’s gaze.
The terrain became rocky as they had ventured up the incline. Perched among the boulders jutting out from the forest’s ground was a hybrid, magical creature. Enormous mauve wings outstretched as the creature stood in apprehension of the approaching group, its beak splitting open to hiss in alarm.
A griffon—of all things—crouched in caution, its sleek feline body tensed.
“Its eyes,” Ara breathed, appalled.
The griffon’s eyes were bright crimson, glowing in the darkening dusk. Thick black veins wrapped around its neck and curved across its beak and skull, curling around its beady, ruby glare.
“We’ll climb back down and go around it,” Raethin told the others, hushed.
The group went back down the hill, their steps were careful and deliberate and their steady hesitation a precaution against the griffon. Any sudden movements may antagonize the creature.
Raethin saw the creature as both a blessing and a curse. The creatures of the forest would reveal themselves if the Forest trusted them. But the Shadow Plague cursed the magnificent beast, its symbolism as grey at the darkening sky.
Raethin wondered what it meant. Trepidation settled over the group. As they reached a flattening in the earth, they veered left, and continued in that direction for a few minutes before Raethin directed them back north. Hopefully, they gave the creature a wide enough birth, for they would have to continue up the hills.
Hours later, their pace slowed as the incline increased again. The group climbed over rocks, and Raethin couldn’t leave Ara’s side. The princess needed help with each step and having had fallen a few times, Raethin couldn’t risk the princess slipping and tumbling down the hill.
“Are we going up a mountain?” Ara hissed and heaved, halting to catch her breath.
Raethin glanced up and squinted through the dark night. The moon, now half-waning, illuminated enough of the path and their eyes adjusted to the rocks
“No.” Raethin hesitated, leading the group further that way. Yards ahead, where the hill flattened, Raethin couldn’t see what waited ahead.
Paranoia clawed at his chest. He watched as Ara let out another hard breath and then turned to continue the climb.
The others waited a few feet ahead, just as cautious as Raethin.
Raethin and Ara climbed after the others. He stretched his senses to scan the area, searching for greater presences than the forest creatures and his group.
He felt nothing, but the forest was peculiarly calm. Part of him wanted to chalk it up to his paranoia but dread still plagued his stomach.
Raethin almost told them not reach the top of the hill but when Max climbed over the edge and did not alarm the others of danger ahead, Raethin remained silent.
Ara’s foot slipped just as her hand reached the top ledge. He caught her by the waist, thrusting her up for the others to drag her over. Max’s hands circled around her arms and pulled.
Raethin joined them short
ly after. The group stood on the leveled earth of the hill, surveying the area. Behind them, the descent was steep, but ahead, the ground smoothed and level out.
“What now?” Arlow asked, his arm slung around Nyphelia’s shoulders.
Raethin frowned and looked at the sky. The moon drifted west, a sign that it was well past midnight but still far from dawn.
Then he glanced to Ara.
The princess stood against a tree, still panting from the exertion of the climb. Max had handed her a canteen, which hung limply by her side as she swatted hair from her sweaty face.
Ara met his stare, blinked, and looked away.
“We will rest for a moment,” Raethin stated, sliding his bag from his back. “Then we must continue until dawn.”
The others slouched in relief, settling against stumps and boulders. Packs hit the ground as they lost their weight.
Raethin pulled out his own canteen then paused. His ears twisted, picking up strains of sounds from far away.
He lunged toward Ara, his arms wrapping around her tightly, and pulled. A second later, something slammed into the tree behind her, a disappointed hiss echoing the crash.
Raethin dragged Ara away from the creature, twisting her behind him. Her hands held tightly to his clothing as Raethin withdrew his sword.
The others crouched, swords and bows unsheathed, as the creature loomed over them.
Its claws dug into the tree as it hung. Its head twisted to one side. Its gaze lingered over the group. Hunger etched its expression, especially as its stare fell on the princess. Then its black lips peeled back over its bone-white teeth.
“The hunt has begun.”
Chapter Seven
Arrows loosed on the Kaevari after it spoke. The creature twisted, dodging the impaling arrows, and dropped to the ground. Its wings rose, long membranous appendages ending in ink-dipped claws. A tail flickered in agitation from behind. The creature lifted its head at the mortals, bright crimson eyes flashing in amusement as it met Ara’s horrified stare.
The Kaevari in Ara’s dreams was larger than this one. Black hair braided from its head down its back. No horns adorned its head. Its ears were long and pointed, more prominent than the elves’ sharp ears. It wore a clinging black armor, defining its muscular build. Its feet were bare, the taloned toes digging into the earth as it stood from its crouch.