There was nothing to say. Cassidy was as stubborn as a bull, firm and unyielding with decisions. Angered at first, I scoffed; then, with a sorrowful gaze, I stared at my comrade. “Your decision is final, and I know that if I ask you to change your mind, you won’t. So, I won’t ask.”
With a scratchy throat, Cassidy said, “Good, then I won’t have to tell my best friend no.”
I exhaled and grinned. “You know I’m not going with you.”
Cassidy smiled back at me. “And I won't ask.”
The dream vanished like a poof of smoke, and I sat upright, grimacing. No time for that. The moon was low and blending into the sky when I resumed my journey. Dawn was on the approach. The amber emptiness of Endless surrounded me until the sun became a brilliant conflagration on the rise. The sand grew delicate and white, and large crags and buttes quickly formed Endless into a maze of pathways.
The South is pleasant, and I’m close, I thought with a smirk. Southwood shouldn’t be far. I can make it by sundown. Two more sundowns. I quickly learned that the twisting paths along the mountain foothills were deceitfully more extensive than they appeared. After another night of setting up camp and a day’s travel, I finally found the brush line nearly at night.
Chills ran my jacket sleeves. I halted. Something was ominous in the wind; I knew from a soldier’s intuition. From a quarter mile away, I scanned Southwood with practiced eyes. My ears twitched from a faint sound coming from ahead. A second later there were shrieks... Abyssian shrieks. I entered the wood gripping my sword. The bloodcurdling demonic cries urged my sword-hand into movement, and I partially extracted the blade from its sheath.
As I listened, I heard screams of anguish and the ringing echo of colliding blades. A battle? It was soon and sudden that the sounds ended, and the forest resumed its natural calm. Everything was black in the night's darkness, and I disappeared between the thick barks of elms, going with caution. I could do nothing at nightfall—efficiently at least. In a safe clearing, I set up camp and waited until morning.
When I woke, a meal of bread and fruit satisfied me enough to continue my quest. Once rays of sunlight beamed through the canopy, I began my search for the cherished Panacea, a task of patience and endurance. So many hours of seeking would assure a battle to preserve thoroughness.
I studied the ground closer than ever before. Shrubs and herbs hid between long strands of weeds and flowers. With my knife, I marked the trails I’d ventured to with X’s carved into tree bark. By first nightfall, I covered a satisfying portion of Southwood, only collecting Moon-Potion plants, aiding willows, and sap remedies, all herbs meant for healing scars and open wounds. The prize of my quest was nowhere to be found.
The next morning, I awoke to drizzle slipping between the canopies. The sunlight was dim, making the search more difficult than the day before. The forest elevated and was full of scattered clearings. I crossed westward meeting the bridge over the Tucson River.
“It’s almost noon,” I said aloud, breaking the eerie silence. “I hope that plant’s somewhere in these woods.”
As I crossed, I saw a woman in the distance sitting on a jutting stone at the edge of the river. A head of dark long-flowing tresses draped upon a swathing blue cloak. A gray-white horse was beside her, kneeling by the riverside. An ebony-laced bridle and saddle dressed it.
A peculiar place for damsels... It isn’t safe in these woods, I thought, remembering the shrills of Abyssians the night before.
“Hey. Up here!”
She climbed from the stone and knelt, feeling the currents of the Tucson.
She hear me?
She and her horse walked along the river in the opposite direction.
Guess not.
Beyond the bridge, the forest paths went downhill wrapping the trees. I meandered through small glens, following the moisture in the air. The growing hiss of the water told me I was getting closer to the river. Soon I was down beside it, looking behind me at the bridge from where I came. It’s a lot farther from there to here than I thought.
I jogged the path, catching up to her. “Excuse me. Miss?”
Oddly, she ignored me and cut into the forest away from the riverbank. I followed, moving along a small trail between the trees where a thick stream of water descended an off-road hill of dirt and scattered rock popped from the ground. She disappeared there somewhere, vanished without a trace. But I discovered footprints at the bottom of the hill I tracked back to the riverside where the Tucson had grown wild and broadened further along. Around a bend, I heard the whinny of a horse—her gray steed settled in a steppe beside a small stump.
I approached it cautiously. It scanned me, and I stared at my reflection in the gleams of its chocolate eyes as I rubbed its face. “Where did the lady go, boy?” The horse whimpered, brushing its nose against my hand.
Beyond it, only several yards away was another tree stump, though this one was five feet tall and thirty feet in diameter. With a cocked brow and a mind riddled with uncertainty, I went to it, mist wafting from it like smoke. Rippling liquid that gleamed, radiant, translucent-silver, filled the hollowed stump. Implanted along the inner rim were indigo clovers that showered it with glittery dew.
I gazed into the vast pool, realizing the stump wasn’t an ordinary one. It was a plant. A Pious Plant, one with the power to restore energy to all who drank its enchanted liquid. A single drop could rejuvenate a sleepless and hungry man’s strength no matter how long it'd been since he’d slept or ate. It was an unusual size, larger than any I’d come across in the east. I set down my satchel and bedroll and drank from it. Instantly, I remedied whatever dehydration I’d acquired and saved myself from having to expend food or water for at least a day or longer. The refreshing potion made my body feel as if I’d shed twenty pounds from weeks of intense training. The taste was like water from an island spring, like sweet mint.
I rinsed my face and shook. When I opened my eyes and looked up, I captured sight of a blue cloak in the grass near a leaning tree. I paused unblinkingly, a frosty chill crawling my spine. I swerved back toward the plant.
Submerged beneath the vast body of replenishing serum was a face etched with a smile and a pair of glowing azurite eyes—the woman who had ignored me. She lifted a curling finger just under the surface, gesturing for me to come to her. From her small full lips uttered something foreign that drifted into my ears like a song.
“Cohmera ihtuel zohme,” she said, her voice gentle and melodic.
Something triggered in me, coercing me to draw nearer. “I... I don’t understand.”
“Cohmera ihtuel zohme,” she said once more. My skin heated, and my heart thumped as adrenaline quickened through me. Petite hands grasped my face. She pulled me into the water; our noses met leaving only a slither of space between them. Burning desire reached over me, and I grasped her behind the neck losing myself in the enthralling whirlpools of her irises. “Ivoni òm niietta.”
Suddenly, intense lust overcame me. I took a deep breath, my lips quivering. I pressed my nose against hers. What’s happening? I brushed her again. The movement was impulsive. She ran a finger down the center of my lips, and I lost myself in her whirling eyes. My skin was in gooseflesh. Something's wrong. I went for a kiss. The temptation was irresistible. We smiled, and suddenly I felt the spell of sleep come upon me, my eyes becoming heavy.
I wasn’t falling asleep. I was drowning.
By the time I realized it, her hands locked around my neck. I shook and struggled, hand clenching my sword hilt. The burning desire deceased as if a dagger sliced away the terrible yearning just moments before. Magic? I broke free and fell, crawling away on palms and then rising with my sword in hand.
After a long pause, she revealed herself.
Water erupted into the air. At the top of the geyser, the woman stood, balancing with ease on the aqueous tower. From behind her, she drew weapons resembling metal stars—spade-shaped blades protruding around sharp rings with leather grips in the center she squeezed
between splayed fingers.
She gleamed in a liquid-black, ribbed bodysuit molded to her like a glove. Her peach upper body was almost entirely naked save for the sharp cut of the suit that parted between her breasts and contoured down her sides. Triangles of scale-like pads dressed the back of each hand, draping from bracelets glistening with the brilliance of moonlit silver. Sheer blue sleeves draped from gold armlets above her elbows. Her wet, raven hair was waist length, vibrant, and drawn over an eye in liquid ripples.
It dawned on me then that she was the one I had heard hacking down Abyssians the night of my arrival to Southwood. “You are foolish to think I am yours to ravish, human.” Her voice was serene, staccato, and honeyed with an accent of rolling R’s.
Ravish? Bewilderment struck fast. Thunder crackled, and lightning stretched over the sky.
She leaped to the ground in flips, landing with poise and ease. The woman swung her hair from her face, unleashing her divine beauty.
I stared at her, nearly gaping. Her eyes flickered, alternating hues of blue. She was more enthralling than all the sultry women who dared to grace the pageants of the east; a damsel created as if only to exist for the eyes of a man. I couldn’t turn away and, for a moment, she’d beguiled my focus at hand. Ahead of me, no taller than my chin stood a glowing captivation. “I don’t want to fight. I only wanted to warn—”
She was upon me before I could finish speaking, weapons gleaming and spinning in the wind. Thunder crackled again. I lifted my sword barely in time to parry, our blades ringing in collision. The sheer impact stung my sword hand. I’d never fought an opponent with such weapons. I had to be watchful and cautious. I studied them as they came inches from my face. She noticed. “You’ve never before seen chakram. Do not despair. You’ll ponder them for eternity—in death.” She spun the weapons in fast circles.
Flawlessly and poised, she attacked. She was agile. It didn’t come as a surprise. She was small framed, her waist whip-thin compared to her plump yet firm lower body. I didn’t expect her strength. She was as strong as a man, her strikes fierce and pitiless. She caught me on the arms and my mid-section three times, slicing clean rips in my jacket. Have to get that sowed again.
I’d seemed to be at quite a disadvantage. I was unknowing of the extent of the woman's skill and style of combat, and the two chakram, as she called them, proved challenging to manage. I ducked a beheading swing and locked her back against me as she twirled. She smelled of jasmine, vanilla, and iris, a floral coalescence that nearly buckled my knees. I reclined my head from a whiff, wanting for a moment to bite her at the neck. Pheromones. Shake it off.
“I have no desire whatsoever to fight you.”
“Then you should not have followed me.”
I shoved her, and she leaped facing me again, her eyes glowing.
She's mad.
Judging by the thunder, rain was coming soon. It was no ordinary battle for me, not that I'd had many. I needed to concentrate. This woman was a killer and infuriated for some unapparent reason. There was no persuading her to stop. I understood that much. I had to deal with her, hopefully by means other than strenuous melee.
She came at me again, cutting the distance in seconds, her skill, agility, and strength a monstrous wave.
I lunged, missing as she knocked my blade in a round motion. My next swing was overhead. Deflected. And so were my next few strikes. The woman was graceful and acrobatic, twisting and turning unusually in evasion. But it was I who ducked and dodged mostly, as with every parry of my attack, she spun her weapons to turn my wrist in an unredeemable angle.
I backed away, enough distance to gather myself. A sting came to my cheek. There was a thin cut fresh with trickling blood. I looked at her, and she at me with a mien of stone. The sky was dismal. The next thunder boomed louder than the last, shaking the ground. And the rain finally came, crackling against the leaves, and quickly forming puddles in the steppe. Her horse reared and trotted unsettled in the distance. It galloped into the forest, suddenly leaving out of sight.
The woman and I circled each other. In moments, we were at it again, slicing clean through the downpour with a furious exchange of blows. Relentless rain soaked us as we splashed through muddy puddles. Dense droplets dripped into my eyes, blurring my vision enough to hinder skillful swordplay. I was careful with my footing. I’d nearly slipped three times.
She seemed impervious to the rain, her wrath still very much unyielding. I should think of something. Her advantage was building. Every attack became more daring and cunning than the last. The rain had softened my skin and getting cut would be easier than before. I had to watch her closer than ever, drill her with hawk eyes. Our weapons crashed with a dull clang, sending us sliding across the ground. As I brought my sword up for an attack, she hammered my wrist, and I dropped it.
I flinched and flashed eyes forward. Just as fast, a sharp heel thrust into my gut. I fell back onto my knees. She advanced with rising chakram. Get up.... I was swift to my feet, gripping her wrist, head-butting, and bending her arms behind her head; forcing her weapons out of hand. With a shove and punch to the face, I pushed her back.
Stumbling, she shook and glared at me before twirling through the air in flips. Upon landing, she whipped a foot into my chin, rattling me to a hard fall. Back to the mud, I went, walking dizzily upon my hands. The gray sky was above me until a moment later she dived on me. We rolled in the puddles, wrestling until she threw me off with a kick. By luck, I landed within arm’s length of my sword. I gripped it and climbed just in time to place the blade at her throat before she attacked again.
We were drenched; dripping from every crevice and breathing heavily. “Stop.” She listened, but only because she was weaponless, I assumed. Her liquid eyes cooled, and she raised her neck.
“Do it,” she told me, calmly, peacefully. Kill her, she meant. I wouldn’t. I hadn’t wanted to fight.
Why attack me, I wondered.
Before the thought became a question, an Abyssian’s shriek resounded. Dark shadows shifted between the trees around us. I looked wildly, removing the blade from the woman’s throat. More shrieks. “They’re coming. Through the trees,” I pointed.
––––––––
The woman’s glowing eyes shot behind her. Instinctually, we came back to back. Ashen creatures leaped into sight appearing in a scattered formation from behind the trees into the steppe where we fought. I counted four on my side alone, all young nasracans with barely any horns. Still, their number made them dangerous. They were weak but thirsty for souls—a deadly hunger. “Listen to me. We stay together and keep tight. We fight together, we survive together,” I said, assuming our new circumstance had allied us.
She ran forward, doing just what I hadn’t recommended. A cloth of sheer silk hung from the low-cut backside of her suit, barely above her buttocks like a tail and billowed from her cutting speed.
So much for that plan. The woman slid across the mud and grasped her weapons where they’d fallen. Those would help, I realized. But it was too late for us to rally again. The nasracans rushed.
I sliced off the arrowhead of a tail and thrust through a creature’s neck, a young, frail nasracan with short, under-curved horns. It was dead quick as it came. I met the next in battle. There was no room for error. I kept to the fundamentals of swordsmanship: defend, parry, attack, and kill. It got the job done. I quickly slew two more, the wet clearing aiding me in battle this time. The nasracans attacked sloppily, carelessly blundering as if ignorant of the slippery terrain. As another nasracan lost its footing, I stabbed it into the ground until it evaporated.
Four surrounded the woman. She awaited them. As they assailed, she was upon them with a lioness’s aggression, twisting and slicing brave demons into wisps of Black Salt. She quickly disposed of two, and she ferociously stabbed a third in the neck with the points of her chakram and beheaded it before she went on to the fourth.
Five more came from the forest, their ascension killing her rhythm. A na
sracan snatched her foot with its tail, and another leaped onto her, biting into her shoulder. She growled and flipped the monster overhead. Clenching her teeth, she stabbed it in the brow. Then the others attacked in unison.
From afar I saw only nasracans swiping and shrieking. A wall of five or six towered over the woman, veiling her from sight. It always meant the worst when adversaries overtook the soldiers. Near me, two more nasracans leaped out, grabbed my arms in a pinching grip, and yanked me down. A third grasped my neck from behind and held it painfully tilted. I’d let the woman distract me, something for which I could've paid a terrible price. I yelled as the monster turned my skull. I forced my head down as hard as I could and yanked left and right. To no avail could I budge, not even the slightest bit. My heart thumped.
A second later, vicious claws set me free. There was the sound of an animal above me. The woman's horse, I realized as the nasracans at my flanks released me. The tall horse reared and knocked the nasracan grasping me in the face with thrashing forelegs. Landing, the brave steed kicked another with its hind legs. The shrieking demons turned their attention to it.
You saved my life.
With angry desperation, I ran to the steed’s aid, hacking down three nasracans surrounding it with cruel slashes.
Mounting the horse, I hastened across the clearing. If there was a chance to save her, I would see it done, though I wasn’t hopeful by the look of what was ahead. The circle of nasracans around her dispersed when I came upon them; one I caught with my sword in its back after I leaped from the saddle. A thrust and slash killed two more on either side of me.
The woman laid on the ground with minor cuts and bruises on her arms and a bite mark on her shoulder where blood leaked. Her eyes found me with reprieve. Hope prevailed. I was glad to see she was still alive, a rare luxury in a battle with only an army of two. She climbed and stood by my side, resuming a combative posture. Together we finished the few remaining Abyssians that came for us—two warriors and a horse that was as valiant and fierce as any soldier.
Enigma: Awakening Page 6