“Laderic,” whispered Midiga, putting her paw on his shoulder. “Not now.” It was as if she could read his mind. He opened his hand, as he had been clenching his fist so hard his fingernails had left half-moon impressions in his palm. He grimaced, and it was physically painful for him to turn away from the clearing and walk back to camp. He didn’t say a word the entire way back, and Midiga began to question whether showing him what she had seen had been a good idea... or a bad one. They marched through the trees with Laderic leading the way, and Midiga behind, checking over her shoulder every now and then to make sure the fog wasn’t slowly creeping up on them, ready to suffocate them at a moment’s notice.
“What happened?” asked Alleria as soon as they got back, clutching Reia in her arms like a stuffed bear. Laderic went and sat on his bedroll, taking out one of his daggers and sharpening it on a rock. He didn’t say a word.
“Nothing,” Midiga said, addressing Alleria but staring at Laderic. She sat down on her blanket. “Hopefully, nothing we have to worry about. Let’s get some rest. We have a long day of walking tomorrow.”
Alleria nodded, watching Laderic sharpen his dagger with a purpose she knew not. “Okay...” she said, forcing herself to drop the subject. She hugged Reia, the warmth of the kitsune relaxing her, and she lay down in her sleeping bag. She stole one last look at Laderic before closing her eyes.
Laderic was unable to sleep for most of the night. He kept his eyes peeled for any sign of the darkness. Every hoot and howl and rustle in the trees made him flinch, and one time, he swore he saw a looming figure ready to attack, but it was just a deer passing through.
Eventually, his alertness exhausted him, and somehow, someway, he fell asleep.
They rose early the next day to start their traveling. Emery flew down with the sunrise, rejuvenated for the new day. Laderic, though stoic from the night before, immediately apologized to the fae for being rude to her the day before. She seemed taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor, but she accepted his apology, nonetheless. Midiga and Alleria exchanged smiles, pleased that everyone in their little party was getting along smoothly once again.
It only took a few moments to clean up camp. Laderic took great care to eliminate any trace of their campground. Alleria was curious as to why he was so adamant about making it look as though they had never set foot in that part of the woods, but she figured it was something to do with whatever he had seen the night before. She kept her thoughts to herself, helping him to cover up the smoldering charcoal with fresh green leaves before they turned to the northeast and started down The Walk once more.
They covered a lot of ground that day, though without hardly any conversation. Each one of them seemed lost in their own, dreary thoughts. The weather was dismal—an overcast sky occasionally shed its tears on the travelers below. The rain was more of an annoyance than an impediment, and they pressed on through the depressing weather. They made camp after the sun had already set, finding a patch of dry earth beneath a particularly large tree.
Sleep was evasive that night.
The next morning was cold, and cicadas buzzed without pause in the trees. There was not a cloud in the sky. Alleria looked up as they walked—to her, the trees looked like the sides of a riverbank, and the sky the river, slicing its way through the canopy above them. It was peaceful. In fact, she had felt more at peace the last few days than she had in over a year. She felt safe with Laderic and Midiga there, and she knew she would only feel safer as she learned to control her magic.
New energy gripped them, seemingly bestowed upon them by the weather that day, and thus, their usual conversation resumed.
“So what’s your story, hmm?” asked Emery as she flew along the path. She spun around in midair, just a few feet in front of them, flying backward as they walked. She looked pointedly at Alleria. “There’s something odd about your little trio.”
“Ahem,” peeped Reia from Alleria’s arms.
“Excuse me—your little quartet.”
Alleria paused for a moment. Should she tell the fae about her past? She looked at Laderic for help, but he had zoned out, as he had done quite often over the last couple of days. His eyes stared blankly ahead, looking but not seeing, his mind deep in thought. She then turned to Midiga, who only shrugged.
“We’re on this little mission for you. You can tell her as much or as little as you want.” Though her words seemed nonchalant, she gave Alleria a look as she spoke—a look that said: Don’t say too much.
So, Alleria told Emery about her memory loss and her childhood in the south. She didn’t mention that she was an elf, but only that her parents had suggested she travel to the north to discover who she really was. She didn’t elaborate much on why, and Laderic could tell Emery knew she wasn’t getting the whole truth. The fae stayed quiet, listening to Alleria’s abridged version of why they were headed to Strita.
Laderic was interested, though, when she reached the part in her story about why she had left home. She told Emery that her parents had sent her off with their blessing to discover her true self and recover her memories. However, Laderic recalled specifically that she had told Midiga and him that she had run away from home. It was a strange inconsistency in her story. There was no reason why she would change that part while telling Emery. Unless… she was hiding something, even from Laderic and Midiga. It was what he had suspected before. He watched Alleria’s body language, taking note when she looked down and away as she was speaking during that part. There was now no doubt in Laderic’s mind that she was keeping something from them, and he intended to find out what it was.
“So Laderic and Midiga are coming with me to protect me from the wolf people. Something about me is making them chase me, and I hope to find out what that is once I get my memories back,” she finished. Emery nodded, looking Alleria’s two bodyguards over with her hands on her hips.
“Well, they should do well. They look like more than a match for those mangy dogs,” she spat.
The fae grabbed Midiga’s attention with her clear distaste toward canidae. “Oh? Do you hate them, as well?” She was excited to gossip with someone else about her hatred of canidae. The tip of her tail flipped back and forth with anticipation. “You simply must tell us what sort of nasty thing they’ve done to you to make you hate them!”
Emery scowled. She didn’t exactly enjoy telling this story. “My sister, a springtime fae, was murdered in cold blood by a bloodhungry canid several years ago.” Midiga, not expecting this sudden, dark turn of events, laid her ears back slightly, feeling as though she had tread on a nerve. Emery continued, monotonously. “Three years ago, it happened. The canid who did it was captured only hours later and sentenced to death by our courts in Charandall. They don’t take lightly to bloodhungry, and neither do I. Not anymore. I was first in line to watch the execution.”
“I–I’m so sorry,” said Midiga, at a loss for words.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” said Emery, her wrinkled face unreadable. She turned back around and flew several feet ahead of them as they walked, lost in thought.
Laderic was just as stunned as Midiga. Not only because of the horrors Emery kept buried inside her so well, but also because of the apparent harshness of the fae judicial system. A peace-loving and life-respecting people, he had no idea the death penalty was even considered in their culture. Briefly, he wondered what the Ambassadors thought about that before remembering he really didn’t care that much. Midiga and Laderic exchanged glances. They ended up dropping the matter completely, as it didn’t seem Emery wanted to talk anymore. The group walked in awkward silence for a while.
Soon, they reached a wide creek with an old, wooden bridge connecting the path above it. Still swollen with rain from the storm a few days before, the sound of the water running was calming. Emery’s mood picked up when she saw the landmark.
“We’re almost halfway there,” she said. Her translucent wings somehow seemed to buzz even faster. “We’ll be there in three days, to
ps.”
They decided to rest by the creek, finding a spot where a tree had fallen and opened up the forest around it. Laderic sat on a log and pulled rations from his enchanted pack. He offered some to Midiga, but she shook her head. “I’m going to hunt. I figure while we’re able to, we might as well. The rations might come in handy later on when we don’t have the option to hunt anymore.” She was already prepping her bow. She strung it carefully, hoisting the quiver on her back.
Laderic paused for a second, putting the meat back in the bag. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ve got cloth to store extras. We should see about getting a deer or something for the road.” After putting the meat back, he rummaged through the pockets and pulled out an empty sack filled with strips of special cloth, made for preserving food. He stood from the log, walking to where Alleria was sitting talking to Emery. “Here,” he said, passing her his magically bottomless pack.
“What’s this for?” she asked, hesitantly taking the bag from him.
“Midiga and I are going into the woods to try and scrape together some extra food,” he explained. He turned, following where the felid had already entered the woods. “Just watch our stuff!” he called behind him. He pushed some branches aside, entering the foliage.
He didn’t tell Midiga—though he was pretty sure she already knew—but he wasn’t really coming along to help hunt. He had no ranged weapon of his own now, which was kind of important for hunting. He couldn’t exactly run through the woods, swinging a sword around, hoping he hit a deer. No, he was coming along as backup. After what they had seen the other night, who knows what they might encounter, regardless of it being broad daylight. He was on his guard, and every noise made him anxious. He followed Midiga’s path through the woods.
Midiga finally stopped in a clearing. The grass in the area grew tall enough to reach her waist. She inhaled deeply through her nose, practically tasting the scent of the animals around her. Her whiskers monitored the air currents, and she could pinpoint exactly where her prey was. In fact, it was for this reason that she had come to the clearing—her prey was right in front of her.
The field was large and circular in shape, with a single dead oak tree in its center. Its branches reached upward into the sky and created a canopy of leafless twigs. With her excellent eyesight, Midiga could see where an eagle had made its nest high in the hidden boughs closer to the trunk. Animals scuttled through the grass, and a group of deer grazed peacefully just across the field. Her pupils dilated with anticipation.
Her ear twitched as she heard Laderic tromping through the brush behind her, and she rolled her eyes. He wasn’t going to be much help anyway, and she knew he was just coming along because he was worried about her. She sighed, annoyed yet flattered. Laderic was getting closer.
“Shh,” she hushed as he appeared out of a bush behind her.
“Gods, Midiga,” he huffed quietly. “I didn’t think you’d got that much of a head start on me.” He squinted, peering across the clearing, his eyesight not nearly as good as the cat-woman. “This is all you,” he said, leaning against a tree trunk. “I’m good with watching.”
Midiga nodded, not having taken her eyes off the herd. She slowly padded around the treeline, paws silent in the grass. She had picked out a small doe, perfect for what they needed. She was on the outskirts of the herd, grazing and unaware.
Midiga inhaled deeply, settling her hands and lowering her center of gravity. She rhythmically raised her bow and reached back with her right paw to grab an arrow. She lined up her shot, nocking her bow and drawing the arrow back, feeling the familiar tension in the flexible wood. The black feathers that she had fletched the arrows with tickled her whiskers as she held the tension steady for a brief moment.
The release was nearly silent, and it was over in an instant. The arrow buried itself deep in the doe’s eye socket, and she crumpled to the ground. The rest of the herd had heard the impact of the shot and scattered once they saw the doe collapse. They sprinted to the woods, disappearing in a clatter of hooves.
Midiga finished exhaling and smirked. She was pleased with herself, as always, admiring the cleanness of the shot. Laderic, who had been watching the whole thing, emerged from the woods to her left at a jog.
“Nice shot, Midiga!” he said, genuinely impressed. Her skill as a marksman was always admirable, but she must have been working on her technique since he had traveled with her last. “That was flawless.”
Midiga felt almost smug with the praise. “Thanks,” she called back to him as she made her way to the corpse. She had put away her bow and drawn a knife to begin cleaning and carving the meat. Her mouth watered as it always did with a fresh kill, and she found it hard to concentrate on anything else.
Felidae and canidae both are vulnerable after hunting, as their primal instincts tend to kick in after taking down prey. This is called their feral state. While feral, it becomes difficult for them to focus on anything but their kill. Midiga, aware of her genetics, usually took precautions to avoid leaving herself vulnerable in these moments, especially when hunting alone, but with Laderic here, she wasn’t too worried about it.
Laderic watched her in the distance as she approached the dead deer. He was in no hurry. He, too, knew to stay far between a felid and their prey after they’ve made a kill. He had gone hunting with Midiga a few times before, but he would never forget the very first time. He had tried to follow her to help clean the carcass and almost lost an eye. Midiga’s pupils had shrunk to the size of needlepoints, and she was snarling and yowling at him in feline, a language he still struggles to understand. She apologized after, of course, as she had neglected to warn him about becoming feral beforehand. She had then promised to remind him in the future, though Laderic had never needed reminding again.
Midiga knelt down and busied herself with skinning the deer, her tail whipping back and forth in excitement. Laderic had brought with him a small leather sack that he kept in his bag, and within this sack were many strips of cloth specifically made for wrapping and preserving meat. He would likely cook whatever they retrieved when they got back to camp, dousing it with salt to dry it out and make it last longer.
These thoughts and more filled his head when he spotted a shadow in the woods.
It took him just a second to process it, but that was one second too late. “Midiga!” he shouted as loud as he could. She turned to look at him, still feral, but panicked by his tone of voice. She turned to look back into the woods where Laderic was pointing behind her. Laderic broke into a sprint, drawing his sword as he did so.
Midiga had no time to move as the bear landed its full weight on her. She heard a snap from behind her back and struggled to roll over and get on her feet. The very size of it was overbearing, she could barely move. Her fur stood up, and she hissed, yowling and cursing in feline, trying to flip over to defend her kill. Her feral instincts had kicked in hard, unsheathing her claws and swinging for the bear’s face, aiming for its neck. She hit nothing but fur, and then grazed its arm. The bear only seemed to become more enraged and raised its paw to deal a crushing blow.
“No!” roared Laderic, seeming to appear out of nowhere. He sliced upward, filleting the bear’s arm where Midiga had left but a scratch. It stood on its hind legs, rearing backward a few steps in pain. Laderic crouched between Midiga and the bear, sword at the ready. He noticed how skinny the bear was, and—though tall and broad—Laderic could see its ribs clearly defined in the sunlight. The bear landed back on all fours, charging forward to attack once more.
Laderic stayed to the bear’s left—on the side of its bad arm—and jumped out of the way just in time. The bear barreled past, unable to make a sharp turn because of its injury. Laderic kept his sword out to the left, slicing down the bear’s back as it thundered by. The bear roared in agony, collapsing partially to the ground, unable to support its left side.
Laderic panted, though he wasn’t tired yet, the adrenaline keeping him on his toes. He held his sword at the ready as h
e watched the bear’s every move. Briefly, he wondered why the bear was still fighting. Most animals, when hurt this badly, would have already turned tail. However, the bear turned around again, standing on its back legs and lumbering toward Laderic. Unable to use its upper body to attack, it now seemed the bear was going to simply try to crush him to death.
To the bear’s surprise, though, Laderic ran straight at it. Caught off guard, it could do nothing more than watch as he plunged his sword into its chest.
Laderic wrenched his sword out of the bear’s torso and rotated his body out of the way just as the behemoth fell forward into the dirt, immobile. He wasted no time and ran straight to Midiga, throwing his sword on the ground. “Midiga!” he cried, dropping to his knees. She rolled over and winced, facing him.
“I’m... okay,” she said quietly. The pain had brought her to her senses, and she was no longer feral. She sat up again, cringing. “I think one of my ribs is broken.”
Laderic stared at the ground behind her. “That’s not all that is broken,” he said mournfully. He grabbed a piece of what was left of Midiga’s bow, passing it to her.
Her eyes welled up with tears, and she looked away. Laderic looked down at the ground. He knew the attachment that a warrior has to their weapon, and Midiga had had that bow for years—as long as he had known her. Her bow and nearly all of her handcrafted arrows had been smashed—under either the bear’s paw or Midiga’s own body—as the bear had pinned her to the ground.
She winced again, feeling her side. When she moved her hand, blood was on her paw. She made panicked eye contact with Laderic for a brief second. “Oh—”
That was all she said before falling back on the ground, unconscious.
“Midiga?” said Laderic, eyes widening. She didn’t move. “Midiga!” She showed no response, her ear not even twitching in his direction, as it usually did. “No, stay with me!” Suppressing his panic as much as he could, he reached down and hoisted her up with all his might. So much adrenaline raced through his blood, he could have lifted the bear if he had tried. He turned and sprinted back across the clearing and into the woods, speaking words of encouragement to the unresponsive Midiga, and praying to the gods for some kind of miracle.
Ember: Echoes of Ashes - Book 1 Page 10