Options scarce, she tried to force the horse to one side, urging it off the clear path that wound through the mountains, onto a small wilderness trail she noticed worn into the grass. The steepness of the incline apparently intimidated it, its head shaking violently as it tried to maneuver away. With a ferocious snarl, the beast leapt into the air toward her, the impact of its body with her own pushing the breath from her chest. Feeling her fingers ripped from the reins, she tumbled to the ground, tucking her shoulder to cushion her fall. Gracefully she rolled over and back onto her feet, instinctively reaching for the scabbard at her side.
Thoughts raced through her tired head, her eyes searching the beast desperately for an opening that might expose a weakness. She knew running would be futile without the help of her horse. Her own feet would never carry her fast enough to escape. Drawing her sword, she clutched it with both hands, heart racing with frightened excitement.
Now is the time to see if you are really cut out for this, she told herself sternly. Her eyes opened wide at the sight of the creature rising back onto its hind legs, swiping its front claws at her with amazing precision. The motions of its body seemed almost too well executed for any normal animal, a hint of intelligence twinkling from its glowing eyes. Narrowly avoiding the blow, Leyna ducked out of the way, the power of the creature’s momentum carrying it past her in a rush.
In a fluid motion, it turned around, growling deep in its throat while beginning a slow circling motion around her. Tightening her grip on her sword she moved with it, trying to conceal the fear she felt inside, conveying an image of confidence to the beast. Its movements were cold and calculating, sizing her up with every step. With a powerful burst of motion it lunged toward her, stretching out its claws in preparation to strike, teeth bared. She bent to the side easily to avoid the blow, dragging her blade along its flank.
It wasted no time in regaining its lost ground, twisting sharply around to face her again. Effortlessly, it took to the air, leaping forward to where she was still recovering from her last strike. Gripping the hilt of her sword with both hands, she thrust it forward, cringing at the sickening crunch of the metal piercing through the flesh of the beast.
The weight of its body pushed her backward, sending her falling flat onto her back. Sharpened rocks jutted up from the ground, pressing into her skin uncomfortably. For several moments she laid there. She listened, afraid of hearing its heavy breath. It landed a few feet away, the area around her silent once again as it had been before. Inhaling deeply, she gazed up at the sky, whispering a silent prayer of thanks to the gods that she was still alive.
Lifting her upper body from the ground, she sat up quickly, brushing the dirt from her arms. A glint of light caught her eye in her peripheral vision, drawing her attention to her sword, still protruding from the blood-covered fur where it had struck its mark. Her eyes settled on it calmly, watching the abdomen of the creature for any sign of movement that would alert her to any danger of it returning to its feet. Satisfied with the stillness, she rose up to her feet, dusting herself off absentmindedly.
Her shoulders bowed at the realization of her horse no longer being within sight. The thought of being stranded in the mountains with such unnatural beasts caused her to shudder. Pursing her lips, she tried to ease her frustration by taking determined strides over to the corpse of the beast. Wrapping her fingers tightly around the hilt of her sword, she pulled upward with all of her strength, wrinkling her nose at the soft squish of the blade slicing through its skin. “I would feel bad for killing you, but you cost me my horse, you wretched thing,” she frowned, resisting the urge to kick the corpse in fear of damaging her shoes.
Suddenly reminded of her borrowed wardrobe, she began to quickly pat herself down, checking to make sure all of the extra padding was still in place where Cady had positioned it. Adjusting her corset, she gave a sigh of relief before feeling the coolness of the mountain breeze blowing over one of her feet, her heart sinking in her chest. Tugging up her skirt, she cursed under her breath, her toes wiggling in the dirt while her eyes scoured the area for her lost shoe.
She could see no sign of it anywhere, her gaze falling curiously back to the beast. This couldn’t be happening. Rolling her eyes heavenward, she dropped down to her knees, positioning her hands under the belly of the corpse. With a strong heave she tried to roll it over, the weight feeling heavier than she expected, even after having felt its force knock her from her horse. It took several tries for her to make any progress in moving it, a smile passing over her lips at the sight of a piece of silver fabric becoming visible from underneath the body. Renewing her efforts, she tried to roll the creature the rest of the way over, grunting under the strain.
As she succeeded in freeing her shoe, she heard a sharp scrape of metal come from behind her, followed almost instantly by a pathetic wail that chilled her to the core. A loud thud brought a sudden halt to the noise, her heart pounding wildly in her chest in fear of what she would find if she turned toward the sound. Rising slowly to her feet, she drew in a deep breath, her body shifting uncomfortably to leave the corpse of the beast she had slain at her back.
There, two yards away, lay a second beast like the one which she’d just fought, the hilt of a large sword sticking from the brown fur on its back. A man was standing over it, his eyes surveying the body of the animal to ascertain if it was dead. “Annoying creatures they are, really,” the man said calmly, his voice low and fluid in a language Leyna hadn’t heard spoken since before her mother was killed. His words were in the graceful Vor’shai tongue, their meaning not reaching her at first in her surprise at the sound. “They tend to travel in pairs. You always have to be prepared for their mate.”
Leyna stood frozen in awe at the man, his strong slender hands easily drawing the sword from the creature’s back. Clearing the blade of any blood that remained with a hard shake, he slid it confidently into his sheath. His eyes glowed a bright silver, reflecting the internal energy inherent in the Vor’shai race. His hair was cut short, the thick black locks lying somewhat haphazardly atop his head from the mountain wind. The paleness of his skin contrasted his dark hair, a common trait among their people, reassuring her that he must reside somewhere outside of the desert.
“I apologize,” he spoke again, his voice thickly accented as he utilized the language more widely used throughout Carpaen. “It may have been presumptuous of me to assume you spoke the language. The color of your skin leads me to believe you are from one of the Carpaen cities on the southern border of the desert. You are a good ways from home, if that is the case – and alone, which is even more peculiar.”
Shaking her head to clear her mind of the initial shock at his presence, Leyna felt her cheeks flush with warmth in embarrassment at her behavior. She could only imagine what a fright she must look to him, despite the pains she had endured in hopes of appearing more mature upon her arrival. After sleep deprivation and a journey through the desert, it made her efforts with her appearance seem like the naïve work of an inexperienced con-artist. “I am sorry,” she stated slowly, searching in her mind for the words in her native tongue. Though the language remained constantly at the back of her memory, it felt odd for her to speak it again after so many years.
“Ah, you do have a voice. I was beginning to think I had stumbled upon a mute,” the man smiled, looking her over carefully where she continued to stand in a daze. “Are you quite alright? I cannot tell if you have been injured, or if you are in shock. I suppose I can see where an attack by one of these beasts out of the blue could cause such.”
“Oh, no – no, I am fine. I just…” Leyna found herself at a loss for words, her fatigue overwhelming her senses. She tried to focus on the man, not wanting to give the impression that she was a witless child lost in the mountains; though it was exactly what she felt like. With the quickly dissipating adrenaline from her limbs, exhaustion threatened her with a renewed force, causing her to sway somewhat on her feet. “I have not slept in at least three days
and I fear the intolerable heat of the sun may have left me a good bit dehydrated; but aside from that, I am in good health.”
“You look so young to be traveling on your own,” the man mused, offering her his hand to help her back out onto the main path.
Once free of the weeds, she became aware again of her missing shoe, feeling the rocks poking up at the bottom of her foot. Heaving a dejected sigh, she bowed her head forward, her stance somewhat skewed from the difference in height between her feet. “I was blessed with youthful looks, it would seem. I get accused of being too young quite frequently, but I am fully capable of handling myself.”
“Of course,” the man nodded. Following her eyes he caught a glimpse of her bare foot poking out from under the dust covered hem of her dress, immediately turning his attention to search the area for her missing shoe. “So, does this youthful yet perfectly capable woman have a name?”
“She does. And her shoe is somewhere near the corpse of one of those creatures,” Leyna sighed, taking a step forward to help him in his search. She could feel the tall weeds brushing against her legs from under her skirt, her uneven gait causing her to lope across the ground toward the beast she’d killed. “Do these things have a name that the people here call them?” she asked. Before she could reach the creature, she watched the man bend over to retrieve her shoe, the tiny swatch of material fluttering from inside the toe down to the ground.
Leyna watched the fabric come to rest in the grass, mortified by the sight of it in the presence of this strange man. She tried to ignore it, her manner nonchalant as he handed it over to her, sweeping his hand down to gather up the material from his feet and offering it to her with a curious smile. She could feel the pointed tips of her ears burning with humiliation, reaching out to accept the items from his hands without meeting his eye. With a mumbled thank you, she turned away from him, stuffing the fabric back into the shoe.
“I do not claim to understand ladies’ fashion. I assume that must have something to do with a new style?” he chuckled, moving around her toward the path once again. “You still have not told me your name.”
“A new style, yes,” she muttered, sliding the shoe back onto her foot. Making sure it was comfortably in place, she took a couple of steps to test it before turning around to face him. “You never told me what you call these beasts.”
The smile on the man’s lips seemed to widen at her remark, his arms folding casually across his chest. “I believe I asked you your name before you inquired about the beasts, there.”
“Fair enough,” she sighed, rubbing her eyes with her hands, her vision blurring as she tried to direct her attention toward the man. “I am Leyna. Who are you?”
“Well, first things first,” he chuckled quietly, motioning for her to come back to the road. Looking around, she realized she was still standing amongst the weeds, her legs moving her quickly toward the well-traveled path. “The natives here call these ghereac. It is believed the name translated into something at one point. The Siscalian language has evolved so drastically since the land was first discovered that even the high scholars consider the word to be merely gibberish now.”
Unsteady on her feet, Leyna looked over her shoulder at the two corpses before glancing back to the road. “Perhaps it translates to the beast that frightens off your horse and leaves you stranded in the middle of nowhere.” Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she gazed off in the direction she’d last seen her horse, finding nothing in the distance which would imply its presence.
While she was speaking, she became suddenly aware of the man’s eyes as he did a double take toward her, a look of concern passing over his features. With a single stride he was to her, his hand reaching out for the side of her head. Reflexively she recoiled from his fingers, her eyes opening wide in disbelief. “What are you doing?”
“I am going to ask you some questions – a few of which I already know the answer to, but I must ask them anyway to hear your response,” he replied calmly. Raising his hands up defensively in front of him, he took a step back, placing a slight distance between them. “How are you feeling? Does your head hurt?”
Thrown off by his line of questioning, Leyna stared at him in confusion, trying to register the meaning of his words. Her vision started to blur again, her hand lifting shakily up to her right temple. “My head aches, yes. I am merely tired. I should find a location to set up camp and rest.”
Extending her arms out to her sides for balance she gazed absently down at the ground. She knew the words she intended to speak to him in response, though the sound of them had not been as she expected. Her voice was shaky, her speech somewhat slurred in her attempts to utilize the old language of her childhood. She was vaguely aware of the man at her side again, his arm wrapping around her to keep her from falling. Taking advantage of her distraction, he lifted her hair from the side of her neck, frowning deeply at what he saw there.
Lightly touching the back of her head, he drew his hand away, holding it out for Leyna to see. Through her foggy vision she could see what looked to be blood covering his fingertips, the sight of it bringing a wave of nausea over her senses. “That was only two questions,” she mumbled. Tilting her head up to stare at him, she squinted her eyes, the light of the sky making it difficult to focus on his features. Her brow rose inquisitively at him. Distracted, she forgot what they’d been discussing. “Hey, you never told me your name… I asked you your name before you – did you ask me something?”
“For now, you can call me Thade; and the rest of my questions are irrelevant,” he replied, lifting her easily into his arms. Carefully, he placed her into the saddle of a large horse, its white body perfectly brushed and tended. With a gentle hand, he rested her fingers over the mane, closing them over the hair and nodding to her, trying to catch her gaze directly with his own. “Leyna, I need you to try and stay awake for me a little bit longer and keep a good hold on Aine. There is a military camp not far from here. I will be able to better assess your wound when we get there.”
Awake. The word bounced around in her head, her conscious mind barely aware the man was still speaking. I want to sleep. She wasn’t certain if she had said the words out loud, hearing them over and over again mentally. In the distance she could hear the sound of the man’s voice, repeating her name, quieter and quieter, until it disappeared altogether, the world around her giving in to the glorious darkness of sleep.
Chapter Two
An excruciating pain throbbed in Leyna’s head as she opened her eyes, slowly regaining consciousness. It still hurt to open them, the dim light causing her to wince. She could hear people bustling around, their words making little sense to her confused mind.
Lifting her hand to her head, she groaned. Her throat was dry, her body feeling gritty from her journey through the desert. She’d paid no attention to it while on her trip; though now she was fully aware of how uncomfortable she was, wishing she could find a means to wash the dirt away.
“Leyna? Leyna, can you hear me?”
She could hear someone snapping their fingers from somewhere to her left. Peeking through one eye she strained to look in the direction of the sound, a blurry outline of a person coming into view at her side. As her mind gradually started to focus from her slumber, she recognized the familiar face of the man that had saved her from the beast in the mountains, his glowing silver eyes staring down upon her now with concern.
He held two long slender fingers out in front of her, positioning them directly within her line of sight. “How many fingers do you see?”
“Two,” she coughed, grimacing at the strain on the muscles in her head and neck. Though still sensitive to the light, her eyes were beginning to register her surroundings, finding herself to be inside a large tent of sorts. Men were coming in and out from a flap at the far end, dressed in full military uniform. Their clothes were a dark black fabric, some decorated with gold stripes around their arms while others were simple and unadorned. From her experience, she believed
the stripes to denote a higher status, but her lack of familiarity with the culture of the Siscalians made it hard for her to know for sure.
With a sharp flick of his wrist, the man signaled one of the uniformed soldiers to come closer, motioning toward where Leyna was lying on a small cot. “Commander Feolan, could you fetch some water for this poor woman? She must be absolutely parched.”
“Yes, Captain,” the uniformed man responded sharply with a stern salute, his shoulders drawn back proudly. Leyna was surprised to discover his appearance was also that of the Vor’shai people, his eyes shining a brilliant shade of grey. His black hair was long, tied back to keep it from falling in his face. The pointed tips of his ears were distinct against his dark hair with his fair complexion, the deep color of his uniform serving only to make him appear even paler than he already was.
He was gone for only a few moments before he returned with a tin in his hand, holding it out to Leyna with a smile. She accepted it gratefully, tilting her head up to gulp it down in almost a single swallow. Staring down into the empty tin, she willed for there to be more water, watching the bottom of the cup as if she could somehow make more liquid appear magically inside it.
She felt someone tugging on the tin in her hand, her eyes snapping upward to stare hard into the man’s grey eyes. Her fingers remained clenched around it, unwilling to let it go. The sound of the man’s soft laughter under his breath caught her attention, his voice calm as he gently pried her hands from the cup. “It’s alright, miss. I am going to get you some more water. I promise I will bring it right back.”
Warmth rushed up to her face, adding a soft red hue to her sickly pallor. Slowly she used her hands to lift her upper body, weakly sitting up to face the man who had brought her there. “Captain?” she murmured, distinctly aware of the prestigious title the commander used to address him. For the first time she became aware of the uniform he was wearing, several pins and badges decorating the left breast of his jacket. Flustered with her lack of coherent memories, she racked her brain to recall his name, feeling as though she should know it, but finding it eluding her attempts. “I apologize; I feel so foolish. I cannot remember your name, if you ever told it to me at all.”
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 4