They followed her, Barda first, followed by Xep and Drohdroh taking the rear. She was fast, much faster than the three Reahlics. Barda remembered the first time he ever saw a tree and that its magnificence had sent a mixture of fear and respect. He remembered half thinking that it would pull its roots out of the ground and charge him if he had gotten too close.
That was three years ago and now climbing trees had become second nature. However, seeing Chesna in front of him drained his confidence. She mimicked the movements of an animal, using all four limbs to catch, jump, and land, each of her limbs in sync with the other. Barda tried to copy what she was doing and nearly fell. He could hear Xep and Drodroh snickering behind him.
Chesna jumped to a large tree branch and came to a halt. Barda was at his top speed and nearly slammed right into her but dug his claw into the bark behind him just in time.
“We’re here,” she whispered, looking out over the forest.
Barda could see nothing but the tops of all the trees and the different types of birds that flew overhead. However, he knew that that was exactly what the humanoids of Vivreon had intended when they had built the village. This was a form of protection against the larger carnivorous birds, the ones large enough to carry off a humanoid.
He took this chance to look at the Green sun of Vivreon, which, in his opinion, was by far the most beautiful. It looked as if he were gazing up at an enormous mirror for the Green sun looked just like the forest Barda now sat atop. The sun took up half the sky and was so large that one could even make out trees that grew upon it. Could he actually see animals flying over those trees? Or was his mind playing tricks on him?
“We have to warn them,” Chesna said, bringing Barda back to reality.
She began to get herself ready to descend when he grabbed her arm. “Where are you going?”
“Someone has to warn them!”
“We need a plan, Chesna. Let’s say we are successful helping all the villagers escape, they still won’t be safe. The army will just follow them and continue with the extermination. You have to understand that the army isn’t just out to destroy the village, but it’s the villagers themselves that they want.
Her eyes were wide with horror and her body became rigid. “What are you suggesting?” she asked, looking back down over the trees. Barda could see tears build in her eyes before she had a chance to wipe them away.
I’m suggesting we slowly kill each and every last one of them.” Barda looked back over at Xep and Drohdroh. They both nodded at him in succession.
15 - Downstream
Their first idea was to figure out a way to call for reinforcements, but none of them could figure out a way to signal for help without also alerting the army. Barda knew it was probably impossible to kill off four whole platoons of soldiers with just the four of them. His only choice would be to send one of his own and so he sent Drohdroh back for reinforcements. Chesna gave herself the job of evacuating the entire village and was off before the rest of the plan had even been formulated.
There wasn’t a whole lot Barda and Xep could do but slow down the platoons. They turned and moved the way they had come in order to meet the soldiers half way. They descended to the forest floor when the loud marching became audible.
Using the thick foliage for cover, Barda and Xep’s first targets where the torch bearers, whose primary job was to share their flame with the rest of the foot soldiers.
“Halt!” cried the commander. “Do you grunts hear that?”
Barda and Xep stopped breathing. How the four hells did they hear them?
“You grunts are in for a treat! I hear liquid!”
The soldiers cheered and Barda realized that most of them had been just like him three years ago. They had never seen flowing liquid. No Reahlic ever took liquid for granted, not the poor, not the aristocrats, not even the liquid plantation owners. One just never knew when the Red sun would take that precious resource away from you.
Barda was so preoccupied with tracking the platoon that he had closed all his senses to his surroundings. His old mentor would be disappointed in this error. Xep turned to him with a face that Barda read to be something like “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Barda nodded towards him and they waited patiently for the soldiers to pass before they started moving. He led the way to the large body of flowing liquid, which he knew the Vivreonish called a river, while Xep began pulling different leaves and roots from the forest ground. There was no path here which meant they had to be extra quiet making their way through the dew covered bushes. They ended up at a small liquidfall which was loud enough that it would drown out any noise they might make. Barda heard laughter and chatter of the soldiers as they approached the river bank. Xep had heard them too and he quickened his pace juicing the leaves and grinding the roots into his transportable alchemy kit.
A few soldiers had already drunk from the river before Xep had finished his work. Barda made a mental note of which ones had done so. They would have to be taken care of separately. Xep grabbed a handful of the dark Green goo he had just made and stuck his fist in the river using his closed fingers to steep the substance slowly into its flow. Barda could see strings of the slime float towards the unsuspecting soldiers.
Six of them had drank from the river before the poison had been released. Barda began figuring out which ones he would take out first based off their estimated ability to fight and of course their size. His mentor had always taught him that even though the larger were slower that they still packed the most dangerous punches and could land powerful blows. Even if there was no martial finesse to these larger foes, one lucky hit could mean an abrupt end to a fight. He would take down the larger targets first using stealth and then… — Xep made a heaving noise and Barda turned to see him holding his wrist. The skin of his hand was melting off the bone.
“In my bag,” Xep said between gritted teeth. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. “There is a capsule of blue powder.”
Xep didn’t have to say anything else. Barda crouched behind him and searched his bag, finding four capsules of blue powder all in different shades. He placed them in front of Xep and he pointed to the correct one with his eyes closed. He began to go in shock, his body trembling and his eyes turned bright red. Barda had to force the alchemist’s mouth open which had been clenched shut involuntarily. The powder bubbled as it touched Xep’s saliva, the foam ran down the cracks of his mouth. Barda massaged the assassin’s throat but was afraid that the antidote might have come too late.
Xep went stiff and Barda laid him down in the dirt. He felt for a pulse and exhaled with relief. It was there just very weak. He looked down river and saw that the soldiers were finished with their drinking and were now just taking a quick break, completely astonished by the beauty of the river. How could they go from being in the presence of something so wonderful and inspiring to marching on a village with orders to destroy?
His mentor had explained to him once that most soldiers are not only brought up through the propaganda of the monarchy but that these views are reinforced even more so through the rigorous training. Not just physical training, but mental training as well. Barda had even heard rumors that the raids would bring back prisoners of war to be used as target practice just to further numb the idea of killing another humanoid.
Xep coughed and tried to sit up but Barda wouldn’t let him.
“Why…” Xep struggled to say.
“Why what?” Barda asked.
Xep looked up at him with a questioning face and then he smiled, “Why did you pour it into my mouth and not my hand?”
Barda smiled and couldn’t help a small chuckle. He had made the mistake through fear of losing his friend, his mind just wasn’t in the right place this sun-cycle. Thinking back, he now realized that all of his mindless mistakes started being made right after meeting Chesna. Did she have some power over him? A curse of the forest humanoids? Just thinking of her face and breasts made his stomach feel strange.
“Don’t worry about it, Captain,” Xep said in a normal voice without struggle. “I’m good to go.”
Barda looked down at his hand which was now covered in dead skin that Xep peeled off and threw to the side. Out of all the things Barda had seen in his life, this made him gag.
“You okay, Captain? You’re a bit Green.”
“I’m fine.”
They both began to hear coughing fits coming from the direction of the soldiers. Some started to spin and others grabbed their knees as gushes of yellow vomit projected from their mouths. The six who had drunk the liquid before the poison were walking from victim to victim confused as to what was happening. One of the six happened to be what looked like their commander. He was larger than the rest and the front chest piece of his armor was covered in tiny medals. In his mouth was a fat fume stick which he kept puffing on even though most of his squadron was dying.
“We have company it seems,” Barda heard the commander say.
The commander put his hand behind his back and unequipped his massive switch blade. With a quick movement of his forearms the blade swung out into fighting position. The Green sun’s aura reflected off of the steel.
“Looks like we have a pretty good fight ahead of us,” Xep whispered.
“Can you take the other five?” Barda asked him.
“Captain, you insult me.”
Xep began to move on his own towards the soldiers with one hand behind his back grasping a dagger with a Green gem inside of it.
Barda also started to move. He put his hands out in front of him and started to conjure a weapon he had grown accustomed to. Pieces of material appeared in the air and floated to his palm crafting a firm hilt. Then, molten metal appeared, took shape, then hardened before falling onto the top of the hilt he now gripped tightly. Barda’s short sword was a lot smaller than the commander’s switch-blade but it was by far much faster. He would be able to use his physical speed to whip around his prey and his blade would move in a blur of motion.
Xep had made his way around the soldiers and faced Barda from the opposite side. He made a few hand singles through the grass which stated that he was going to take out the two closest soldiers while distracting the big one. Barda gave a slight nod.
Xep merely stood up and shoved a dagger through the back of the head of a puking soldier. The soldier’s eyes widened and relaxed, the last bit of vomit dripped from his bottom lip. Xep pushed the male’s head off his blade, spun around and shoved the blade up the next closest soldier’s jaw sealing his mouth shut.
“There you are,” the commander said nonchalantly. He walked slowly up to Xep, the switch blade out in front of him. He whistled and the remaining the soldiers surrounded the assassin.
Barda took this chance to attack and with blinding speed he swung at the commander’s back, but the commander was ready for him. The large male swung his blade behind his back and blocked Barda’s oncoming strike.
The commander turned his head and smiled. “So, you’re the leader of this traitor group.” He swung his body and brought his blade down upon Barda who was barely able to dodge in time.
There was no way he could block this giant’s weapon, not unless he wanted to break his wrists.
“Where ya going?” the commander asked, the fume stick still stuck in his mouth. “We ain’t through here!” He whirled the blade at Barda’s abdomen.
Barda pulled his stomach back and hopped backwards watching the edge of the blade swoosh past his gut as if it were in slow motion. He then sidestepped and slashed at the commander’s ankle, sticking his blade half way inside the meat and bone. The giant howled in pain, his fume stick fell from his lips and hit the ground.
Barda looked up at Xep who had already killed the other four soldiers and was now looking through their armor for supplies. Enough playing around.
Barda released his control of the short sword which dematerialized into a golden gas that drifted upwards. Using his mastery of capability, he manipulated his body for speed and strength. The commander’s eyes opened in shock as he watched the fragments of the blade become smaller and float away in the wind. Barda took this chance to juke around the giant, climb up his back and grab his head.
“Ehh! Get off of—,”
CRACK
Barda spun the commander’s head with all his strength and now his head was facing the wrong way, his expression dumbstruck with fear. The body fell to the forest floor.
“Do you always play with your food?” Xep asked, sliding his dagger into the back of each dying soldier’s neck. He did this as if he were on a casual stroll.
Barda rummaged through the commander’s armor and found a crudely drawn map of the village that was to be put to flames. There were four sections labeled with an X, one to the north, south, west, and east. They must have taken care of the east platoon and he believed the west platoon would be closest to their current position.
They climbed the nearest tree and began moving towards their next set of enemies.
16 - The Cooling Sword
Esh listened to the Elder’s story all sun-cycle long as he continued to tell it all the way through their work, pausing only to describe minute details that Esh would not remember. There was just too much for the young one to comprehend. He would often have to rub his eyes due to lack of blinking. His father sounded legendary and he felt proud to share his blood. Maybe he too could be a warrior just like him.
“I think that’s enough for one sun-cycle,” the Elder said. “It’s getting late and we have work to do come sun-cycle.”
Esh’s head whirled around taking in his surroundings. He was just now realizing that they had made it home and had already made it through the work day. “What? No! You can’t just tell a story and then decide to quit!”
“I can and I just did, lad,” The Elder said as he piled up their dishes. “I cannot believe I let that story get in the way of your afternoon training.” He let out an air of disgust with himself.
“But what happens to the village? Does Chesna get the humanoids out? How do I do sorcery?”
“Another sun-cycle.”
That was the last thing Esh knew he was going to get out of his ancient mentor.
He walked over to his bed and sat on the edge. He kicked the sand off the bottom of his feet before putting them under the thin sheets.
“Have a good sleep, lad.”
Esh felt a sudden warmness in his chest. The only humanoid to have wished him a good sleep had been his fake mother. He wondered how she was doing. Did she ever think about him? Was she alright?
“You too,” Esh responded.
He waited until he could hear the Elder’s breathing slow and deepen before he quietly made his way out of the bed. Unlike the orphanage’s creaky floors, the sand made his footsteps completely silent. What he was looking for he didn’t know, but after that story he knew he would not be able to sleep.
He walked to the wall of weapons which were still illuminated from the torches that hung from the wall. Did the Elder forget to extinguish the torches or did he keep them on in case of intruders?
Esh walked along the wall, touching each weapon that he saw. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. Each blade, bow, spear, looked as if it had just been cleaned and polished that sun-cycle. He wasn’t used to things that hadn’t already been covered in the filthy soot of ash.
The flames of the torches flickered over the shiny blades and hilts which sprinkled the rest of the room with random slashes of moving light with their reflections. Something glinted off one of the larger weapons and it caught Esh’s eye. His curiosity moved his feet towards it.
Nothing. Where the sparkle had come from was just an ordinary hilt that looked to be made from some sort of hardened dark brown material. At the bottom of the hilt was a carved growling beast of which Esh had never seen and was glad for it. He would have taken the weapon down from its place but it looked to be too heavy and he was afraid it would fall straight from his grip and c
rash to the ground, waking the Elder.
A flame from one of the torches danced in just the right rhythm to send another flash of light over the hilt revealing what had caught his eye. It was a name written in an old script which disappeared before he could read it. He waited for the torches to do their magic again but nothing was happening. Finally, after losing his patience, Esh decided to try his luck in picking up the weapon.
He stood on his toes and grabbed it, a sudden coolness ran through his body and chilled him. This scared him and he let go instantly. It didn’t hurt, but was actually soothing. It was the sudden rush that had spooked him.
He grabbed the sword again and let the chill flow through him once more. He stood there on his toes enjoying the coolness and forgetting about the mysterious script for a few moments. He then put his other hand under the sheath of which the blade was hidden in.
He had been right, the weapon was extremely heavy, but he figured he could pick it up long enough to bring it over to the light. He lifted the weapon and hugged it to his chest. As slowly as he could, Esh backed up and began to turn. His heart stopped as the Elder stood in front of him with his arms crossed. Esh dropped the sword and the Elder caught it with the top flat part of his foot, kicking it into the air. It flipped about six times before the Elder caught it by the hilt. He held the sword out in front of him and stared at it like he himself had never seen it before either.
“I believe this is what you were looking for,” he said, putting the hilt directly into the light of the flames. The script came back to life and Esh read ‘Barda’. “This was your father’s, made by your mother.”
The Elder held the sheath by his hip and slung the blade out of its sheath. Nothing spectacular happened, in fact the exact opposite happened. Nothing.
“Your mother was a very talented weapon smith, but this,” the Elder said, looking the blade up and down, “was her masterpiece.” He put the flat side of the blade on his forearm and opened his palm to show Esh the hilt. “This is made up of one of the oldest trees in the forests of Vivreon, the material is called wood.” The script, upon seeing the light, reawakened. It was as red as fire and seemed as though it were burning itself deeper into the wood.
The Four Territories: The Dark Assassin Book One Page 8