Born of the Phoenix

by Forrester, David Murray

  The carter's eyes widened with terror as a great shape descended upon him. The creature's wingspan was immense and shrouded the cart in shadow. It landed fiercely and with its giant scaled legs crushed his wagon as if it were made of straw. The beast flapped its feathered wings in triumph as it mounted its prey.

  Six monstrous eyes stared down the carter. The hideous beast screeched loudly sending the horses into a frenzied panic, trapped in the wagons harness they could not escape. Its black beak opened revealing a disgusting tongue dripping with saliva, gums lined with deadly long teeth, rotten and putrid. Its long neck stretched forward as it consumed half the carter’s body in one bite, with its second the man was gone, never to be seen again by human eyes.

  With powerful clawed talons the beast seized both horses and tore them away from the bonds that held them to the wagon. Taking flight, it carried the screaming geldings into the air, whisking the hapless steeds off to its eyrie to devour them at its leisure.

  Patsy's body was trembling with fear and excitement. Her skin covered in goosebumps. It had been several years since her last encounter with a tohern where she witnessed a pair of the hideous beasts decimating a herd of wild horses. Toherns covet horse flesh above all other meat. They are such powerful creatures that not even a brigade of knights could protect their steeds should a tohern decide to attack.

  "Well that answer's that question!" said Ravage, "but I'll be damned if I know how Musk was able to detect that one of those monsters was close by,"

  "We're really lucky that wasn't us!" nodded Patsy. Tohern's were such insane creatures, they both amazed and terrified her to no end.

  "Come on let's go check out the wagon," Ravage pushed her way through the fern, she gave the sky a good looking over before proceeding to the cart making sure there were no more toherns lurking above.

  In the centre of the road lay the cart, broken and ruined. Its wooden wheels crushed to kindling. Mangled boards jutted out in every direction, splinters of wood piercing outwards like sharpened spears. The carter's blood was sprayed across the ruins, a macabre scene of death and destruction.

  The barrels and crates from the cart were empty, save one, which was packed full of deer pelts, beautiful and soft. Ravage bundled them up and that night by the fire she stitched them into makeshift clothes. It took great effort without proper tools and the end result wasn’t much too look at, but they were better than nothing. She adored the feeling of the soft fur against her skin after having spent so many days practically naked, it was divine bliss.

  They slept like lambs that night as they huddled together, cosy and warm. When the sun arose she didn't feel the mornings bitter chill and was ever so grateful. The pair continued to follow the road, confident that soon they would be out of the wilderness.

  Chapter 04

  In days long past Menark was a prosperous merchant village. Built at the crossroads of two main Engalian highway routes thousands of travellers use to pass through the township on a daily basis flooding it with an abundance of goods and rare items for trade as well as a river of coins. It was a peaceful place of trade, culture and wealth, a much welcomed oasis for weary travellers. Slowly over the centuries the substantial wealth of Menark was the town’s downfall as it fell victim to villainy until the once prosperous town became so infamous for thieving and murder that most of the merchants abandoned their shops and homes choosing to flee the skulduggery before having their livelihoods destroyed. Travellers would pass through swiftly; stopping only if their need for supplies was dire. For Menark was now a hive of bandits, a cruel and unforgiving place.

  In the gutters sat drunk, unshaven shifty eyed men who glared at Ravage and Patsy as they rode into town. They muttered cruel japes about the pair’s shabby clothing, laughing amongst themselves as they passed by. Ravage paid them no heed until she noticed one man rise, pull the dark hood of his cloak over his face and begin stalking them at a slow pace to which he probably perceived to be inconspicuous. Guessing his intent, she led Patsy into an ally off the road, dismounted and waited. The rogue approached them just as she had suspected. As he came within a few feet of the girls he produced a curved dagger from under his cloak, his eyes glistening from within the shadows of his hood.

  “Whatever coins you’re carrying give them up,” he said pointing the blade at the girls. He was acting menacing though Ravage could sense the quavering in his voice. “I’ll kill you I swear it!”

  “Oh you will, will you,” said Ravage as she stepped towards him, “why do you think I led you into this alley?”

  “Bitch you didn’t lead me anywhere I followed you.”

  “You’re pretty naïve if you believe that.”

  For a moment the rogue didn’t speak as he considered her words. No, it was a bluff, these women dressed in rags were nothing but trash; he rushed forwards brandishing his dagger to deliver a fatal strike.

  Into the sharks mouth he leapt; Ravage had him. With a simple manoeuvre she used his momentum against him and overpowered the rogue killing him with his own dagger.

  "I get the feeling this is going to happen a lot," said Patsy, watching blood pool under the rogue as she sat atop Jayden.

  "Honestly I don’t mind if it does," Ravage knelt and searched the rogue’s body. A silver chain hung around his neck and a there were a few sovereigns in his pockets. Other than his dagger he wasn't carrying anything of real value.

  "This will get us some food at least, and hopefully we can sell this chain and get you a new bow," Ravage said juggling the chain in her hand, “though it won’t be a very good bow.”

  "A bow? Wouldn’t we be better off buying some clothes? I mean these pelts work, but something more comfortable would be nice,"

  "Armour's what we need, but we can't afford it yet," Ravage tossed the silver chain to Patsy, "and we really need to be able to kill, this dagger will suit me just fine for the time being but I really want to put a bow in your hands, we'll be able to hunt then too, maybe make a few coins off the meat,"

  "Fair enough," Patsy nodded. The silver chain didn’t look like much, the thought of the bow she could purchase with the proceeds was depressing, especially when she considered how unique and powerful her ashen bow had been. Still, it was better than nothing.

  "Good," smiled Ravage, she stepped over the rouges corpse and climbed up into Musk's saddle, "let's get some food first, I'm fucking starving."

  “Afternoon.” smiled Ravage; the barman returned her smile with a look of disdain. She thought nothing of it, Menark was no longer known for its hospitality though it was no reason for her not to be polite. "Can I please have two pints of beer and two plates of roast meat with gravy and bread?"

  His eyes were sharp, cruel, and with a venomous tongue said, "Get out, I don't serve your kind here."

  "Wana repeat that?" hands gripping the edge of the bar, her temper began to flare.

  "Are you deaf mule whore, I don’t serve dirty larrosan wenches." He smirked as he regarded her shabby appearance, “you look like trash, you just escape from a brothel or something?”

  His voice was loud, drawing the attention of the patrons close by. Patsy noticed that men were starting to stare at them. They were hard men, killers, woman beaters.

  "Ravage keep your head," she said in a hushed voice, "this isn't the place to start shit."

  With every ounce of self restraint she had, Ravage reeled in her temper. It was truly difficult. She abhorred men disrespecting her, especially those who were prejudice against her larrosan heritage.

  "I'll remember your face," she said as she turned to walk away, eyes glowing with scorn.

  "Oh, why's that? You fancy me? You want my cock inside you?"

  Knowing full well how Ravage was going to react to that disgusting outburst Patsy quickly took her by the arm and led her away. Ravage ground her teeth muttering to herself as she exited the tavern. No sooner had they stepped outside that she noticed a group of men untying Musk and Jayden's reins from the hitching post.

 
; "Hey!" Her temper boiled over; quickly her mind geared itself for wrath and violence. Ravage grabbed the rail to launch herself down the taverns steps when she was suddenly kicked in the back and fell sprawling down the wood in a ball of pain and blood.

  A tall man, well muscled with broad shoulders violently grabbed Patsy by the hair and viciously forced her to the ground with his bolstering strength; his hulking arms holding her down with a blade pressed against her throat. "Don’t fucking move you little wench or I’ll slit ya throat from ear to ear."

  Ravage hit the ground hard and with fast reflexes sprang quickly back to her feet with the agility of a cat, drawing her dagger she was ready for blood.

  There were three mounted warriors in front of her, another five men by Musk and Jayden while three others were atop the stairs including the man that had a blade to Patsy's throat; the situation was dire.

  "Oh I'm sorry," said one of the mounted men, "are those your horses?"

  "They are," Ravage lowered her dagger and straightened up.

  "I don't care for violence as much as I do for profit, perhaps we can come to some type of agreement." his gaze was treacherous despite his silver tongue.

  "And what type of agreement would that be?"

  "Surely you know the law here, any saddleless horse tied to a post is free for any man to take,"

  Ridiculous, Ravage had never heard of such a law. "And exactly what law is that?"

  "Nade's law,"

  With those words Ravage realised that each man had a scarlet bandana tied to his left arm, the mark of the Scarlet blades; Baron Nade's infamous mercenary band. So he wasn't lying, profit really was his game.

  "So what's this agreement?"

  His cunning grin sent a shiver down Ravage’s spine. “I was thinking that if you were to surrender willingly I'll have my men leave you and your friend unharmed.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “Well I’d sell you of course, you're both quite beautiful and spirited, I know a few high lords that would pay a handsome sum of gold to have young women such as yourselves."

  She didn't doubt him for a second. Ravage had heard too many stories about women that had been sold into slavery and the horrible acts they were forced to endure; torture, humiliation, rape, savagery, until those once strong women were nothing more than shallow husks of their former selves. No, it was not her fate. She'd rather die in battle than allow herself to succumb to such horrors.

  "I know that look in your eye," he nudged his horse a few steps towards her, "the look of a defiant fighter, and I know what you're thinking. Maybe you can kill a few of us, or perhaps none of us, maybe you can run off and escape? But know this, the second you decide to move your dear friend up their will have her throat cut, and unlike you she won't have a chance to fight, she'll bleed out and die right there, and it will be because of the choice you make."

  It was one the one thing that Ravage could not ever willingly do; be the cause of Patsy's death. Even in the afterlife it would haunt her. Physical pain was nothing to the internal torment of a wrong decision. Ravage’s shoulders dropped, she let the dagger fall to the ground. The mercenary grinned.

  The blade was cutting into Patsy's neck; she could feel a trickle of blood running across her skin. Intense feelings of helplessness, shame and guilt consumed her. It was all her fault that Ravage had thrown down her blade. If this man hadn't caught her off guard so easily then things could have turned out very differently. Patsy felt so overwhelmed by the strength her captor possessed unable to break the powerful grip he had on her.

  A rain of blood showered down atop her, she shuddered in shock and repulsion. The body of the man that been holding her collapsed, torn apart and spewing blood. There were screams of agony and more violent explosions of gore as the men with him fell, ruined and broken. A pair of hands gently took Patsy by the shoulder and helped her to her feet.

  A young woman with short blonde hair and shining blue eyes greeted her with a warm smile. Behind her was another young woman with thick blonde curls flowing past her shoulders, adorned in whimsical light armour her silver eyes glared hatefully at the men below. In front of her stood a third woman wielding a black greatsword the likes Patsy had never seen before. It was longer than any blade she thought possible to wield; it was an extremely intimidating weapon. White runes glowed softly on the blade just above the hilt. Radiant long black hair danced across her back. Like her companions she wore light armour, though it was quite revealing, much of her skin was exposed. Her eyes were a deep purple just the same as Ravage’s. Across her brow shone an elaborately designed silver circlet with a flawless emerald in its centre. Her face was feminine, soft and beautiful; yet she had the smile of a sadistic killer.

  "Oh I'm sorry," she said as she slowly descended the stairs, "did I interrupt your profiteering?"

  "Killing my men was a grave mistake!” This woman who had presented herself was a beautiful fool, she had guile alright but she had picked the wrong man to mess with. “A sellsword like yourself should know not to interfere with our business, clearly you don't know who you're dealing with."

  Ignoring his words Akella approached Ravage. "That fall didn't hurt too badly did it? How’s your back feeling?"

  "It’s alright," Ravaged was surprised by the woman's calmness; clearly the mercenaries meant nothing to her.

  "I'm sorry for letting that go so far, but I was curious about your decision, considering the situation I think you chose rightly." with that she placed her hand on Ravage's shoulder and smiled in approval.

  "Thank you for saving my friend, her name is Patsy, I'm Ravage,"

  "How heartwarming, I'll be sure to bury you in the same grave." said the mercenary, looking down at them from atop his mount.

  Akella met his eyes. Sitting proudly on his horse with his chest puffed out like a rooster, he had the appearance of a man who was unfamiliar with defeat.

  "Why am I not surprised to see that you're a man who lacks the simple courtesies. If you don't half mind, we're in the middle of introducing ourselves," the mockery in Akella's tone spoke louder than her words and the mercenary scowled at her.

  "I heard that slaves with polite manners get beaten far less than those that serve with bitter resentment, seeing that you're actually quite mindful of courtesies it makes me think that you'd make a pretty good slave, such a pity that you'll be dead soon,"

  "Do you honestly believe you have what it takes to kill me?"

  "There’s a harsh reality you need to know," his eyes were shining with contempt, "women are especially easy to kill."

  "Are we now?"

  Just as the mercenary chief was about to order his men to attack Akella sprang forwards; her speed was inhuman. Before the mercenary was able to grasp the scale of her abilities he found himself on his back, Sunderfall impaled threw his chest. As she leant over him, both hands on the hilt of her greatsword she softly whispered, "A mercenary like yourself would have been better off not interfering with my business. Clearly you don't know who you're dealing with." Affectionately caressing his face with the back of her palm Akella gave him a look of sympathy then laughed loudly to mock his pain as she pulled Sunderfall so violently from his chest that his whole upper torso tore completely apart. She stood over his ruined corpse; his men dumbfounded and silent.

  Ravage watched in awe as Akella decimated the mercenaries. Her movements were fluid like water, her speed incredible. The swordsmanship she displayed with such an enormous blade was mesmerising. Akella's combat skill was so great that the images burned straight into Ravage’s memory, and she revered her.

  "My sister's amazing isn't she," said Crystal joining Ravage at the bottom of the stairs, "her name is Akella, this is our friend Melody and I'm Crystal." She held out her hand and Ravage embraced it.

  Ravage was surprised that Akella and Crystal were sisters. Crystal had a much stronger resemblance to Melody, perhaps that was only because they were both blondes. The silver in Crystals eyes made her gaze intense, almo
st intimidating, there was great strength in those eyes.

  "Things haven't been going too well for you lately have they," said Crystal, making note of Ravage and Patsy's shabby and unkempt appearance.

  "On the contrary," Ravage said with a smile, "we've been through some pretty hectic battles and had to rough it through the wilderness for a few days, we're still alive, so I'd say we're doing alright."

  Crystal laughed. "I like your disposition," she put a warm hand on Ravage’s shoulder. "You have my sister’s eyes and it seems you look at the world the same way she does, it's truly a pleasure to meet you."

  "It’s a pleasure to meet you too," and Ravage meant it, it was rare to meet warriors of such grace and strength. "Tell me, where did your sister learn to fight like that?"

  Akella held Sunderfall above her head and with a fast swing the blood residue rolled off the blade like a wave, streaking the dirt red as if it were an artist's canvas.

  "Everywhere," Crystals smile faded as painful memories from the past arose to cloud her face, "she's seen a lot of death."

  The windows of the tavern were lined with curious faces, a large crowd had also gathered in the street. The Scarlet blades had such a notorious reputation that practically no one dared cross them. The mercenary band had a terrible penchant for revenge. Once wronged, they never let the death of their enemies end a feud. Often entire families were slaughtered, sometimes whole bloodlines. Entire estates were burned to the ground and on the rare occasion complete villages were totally destroyed. They had no sympathy or Mercy. Only obscene amounts of carnage satisfied their vengeance, Baron Nade demanded it this way, and so grew their infamous reputation.