| Subject: Yowch!!!!! *Glares at Jade and then smiles* Well, it worked! Sorry it took me so long! Here it is, the next part of the tale is inside! *Whirls on Jade* And for you I have a special gift! *Kicks Jade's rear HARD!!* Now, if that method worked with me, it should work with you! Write more Jade!! more! |
Author:
Sekin Brightfall
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 03:48:29 12/13/03 Sat
In reply to:
Jade
's message, "BUMP! **kicks**" on 12:55:53 12/08/03 Mon
Grisen awoke without opening his eyes. The pain was gone. Not entirely, it was still there dimly, licke a small ache. But he could move again without so much agony and his mouth was empty of any blood. He opened his eyes and the dirt of the forest floor leapt into focus. Rolling stiffly onto his back, he gazed up at the canopy overhead. Oak, birch, and elm trees wove their branches together like strings in a cloth, creating a wonderful pattern. Through the gaps in the interlacing foliage, Grisen could see the low clouds, tinged yellow and purple, as if bruised by the sun's dimming light. Shafts of evening rays dove through the branches like arrows, to spill golden pools of light on the forest's floor. Leaves and roots alike were highlighted in golden splendour. Birdsong filled the air, larks and thrushes trilling together.
Grisen managed to rise even more stiffly, until he was standing. Reaching out a ahnd onto a nearby trunk to steadu himself, he looked down at his side. Already, the wound was almost closed, scabbing over healthily. Grisen smiled slightly, and turned, looking for Fyrth.
The pile of coals had been scattered to avoid detection and even his tracks had been obliterated. Of Fyrth, there was no sign. A ray of light caught the blade of his sword from where it stood propped up against a tree.
Grisen limped over to his blade and picked it up. The solid feel of its cool hilt was comforting and he hefted it experminately, feeling the air thrum and whir.
Grisen turned to look into the deserted campsite with a frown. Fyrth had not promised to stay, or even hinted that he would, but Grisen had thought that he might. He still had questions for Fyrth. Such as how could he draw the Shadow's Plague out of a deadly wound? How could he speak Dama'zark's tongue so fluently? What was he doing alone in these woods? Why had he helped a total stranger? But Fyrth was gone now, without even a footprint to mark his stay.
Grisen slowly began pacing through the woods to ease his stiff muscles. The scabbing wound seemed to stretch with every stride, like a taut bowstring being pulled back even more, almost close to snapping, but he paid it no heed. Grisen shot sidelong looks at the deserted clearing, as if just by raking the surrounding trees with his gaze could magically make Fyrth re-appear. His mind swam with fancies, thoughts, and choices. What was he to do now? Returning to Prock would be like signing his own death warrant. The Shadowrider probably believed him dead, there was no need to ruin that disguise...
Suddenly, Grisen froze, his body tense and rigid like a coiled spring about to snap. The birdsong had completely died. Utter silence cloaked the evening forest like a cape. Even the faint breeze had died down, the leaves hung still and unmoving. There was no rustle of fallen leaves as a mouse or rabbit scurried through, no upflung loam from a fox's paws...Grisen took a wary step forewards, the leaves crunching under his boots like the bones that littered Prock's streets.
HE froze again, his hackles rising. Something felt wrong. Terribly wrong. A hideous sense of unease rose in his stomach like a dark monster uncoiling. He lifted his sword to shoulder height, his knuckles slowly blushing white. The stretching wound began to throb like a hideous drumbeat, and then...Then he heard it. The dull, muffled thud of hoofbeats, coming closer from every direction.
Grisen whirled, his sword catching the light spilling down from the silent canopy. The hoofbeats became strangely loud in his ears and his fear suddenly ignighted. A terrible piercing whistle like the dying cries of a tortured bird rang out through the trees, rising and twisting eerily.
Another shriek rose to join the first, rising and then falling deeper, and then they abruptly just cut off. The hoofbeats intensified in speed and frequency as the riders drew nearer. Grisen whirled, sword flashing as the foliage to his right erupted in a flurry of leaves and rustling. But, it was only Fyrth who staggered out.
Fyrth's blank face was white and his eyes were glazed, furthering the appearance of lifelessness. The long dagger was held loosely in one hand, almost as if he was about to sheath it. And yet, he staggered as he walked, as if dazed or hurt. Grisen started to walk towards him quickly. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"
Fyrth's dead eyes snapped quickly onto him and he straightened suddenly, tensing and curling his fingers around the dagger like a cornered wolf about to bite. His voice was harsh and strained and Grisen realized that he was shaking. "Go! Do you wish Them to find you?"
Grisen stopped abruptly. It was unnerving to hear such a harsh voice come from that face. It was as if someone else inside Fyrth was talking. The hoofbeats rang out louder. The riders were approaching. Grisen felt the fear clutch his throat. He tasted bile, his wound burned, but he stared at Fyrth. There was something familiar....He could almost remember...Something...
Fyrth snarled, but aside from that baring of teeth, his face remained blank. He sprung towards Grisen like an adder, the blade his fang, and Grisen re-coiled in shock. "Go you idiot!" His voice was an enraged and feverish hiss. "Do you wish to be Hunted? Dreams bring no relief! Go!" Fryth lunged again with the dagger. Trying to chase Grisen away from the coming riders. Away from him.
Grisen backed up just in time from the whirring balde and stared at Fyrth's vacant face and dead eyes in horror. Fyrth snarled and struck again. Grisen didn't even know he was running until he almost tripped over a tree root in his haste. The high pitched shriek called out from behind him again. He looked over his shoulder in a vain attempt to see what made the hideous noise, and smashed into a black cloaked Radgem.
With a strangled yell of surprise, Grisen and the Radgem both fell onto the forest floor with a thud, Grisen on top. The Radgem snarled wordlessly and twisted and writhed its long body like a worm in the dirt, flailing its arms and legs violently. It managed to twist over onto its stomach and pin Grisen beneath it, long wickedly sharp claws scrambled to wrench the Falkhan's hands away and tear through the vulnerable warm flesh of his throat.
Grisen shielded his face with his hands as the seeking nails dug into his palms, scorring bloody rivulets in his flesh. His sword had been kicked out of his grasp by the Radgem's previous thrashes; it lay several feet away, gleaming mockingly as it stayed just out of arm's reach. Grisen twisted and thrashed violently, trying to break free from under his opponent, the skin over his barely healed wound stretching painfully tight. The Radgem shifted forwards to obtain a better position and Grisen could see a frusterated gleam in a yellow eye as the creature struggled with him. It longed to feed, longed to drink...
Anger enveloped Grisen. Thrashing desperately on his back, he managed to get one foot drawn up, the knee against his chest before he kicked out violentely. With a dull crunch like a boot stepping on snow, his foot conected with the Radgem's mouth. The Night-Demon reeled backwards from the force of the impact and Grisen scrambled to his feet, surging forwards to his sword.
Before the Night-Demon could regain its footing, Grisen whirled upon it, blade flashing. The yard of steel rammed into the Radgem's chest, the creature's yellow eyes still glowed with unsated hunger.
Wrenching his sword free, Grisen glanced around him warily. Radgem in the woods...Radgem never travelled alone or were permitted to enter the woods unless they were hunting something...Or someone. It couldn't be him. The Shadowrider would believe that he had died, wracked by the Shadow's Plague......Fyrth.
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 