Kimahri

These are the first six pages of the Prologue to my first Fantasy novel. It's still a work in progress but I wanted to post some of my own stuff on here and get feedback. Just looking for constructive criticism. (The paragraphs are separated by a line) Thanx. - Kimahri

Hunted

Danae stopped abruptly at the sound of the howl and moved behind a large yellow wood quickly. The tree was quite old and large providing enough cover so that if anyone was out there in the dimly lit Sithrel Forest, it would be difficult for them to see her unless of course they knew where she was already and were toying with her—stalking her as their prey. A rank smell hung thickly in the air almost making it difficult to breathe. She knew the smell quite well. It was musty and dirty with a hint of old sweat. She bent over a little covering her mouth as the feeling of wanting to throw up almost over took her. Breathing long calm breaths, she remained composed enough. Throwing up would do nothing but give her position away if her hunters were close and she did not know for sure if someone was watching her or not but she could not risk it. No, she could still have the luck of the Light on her side at least she prayed she did. The ground was moist under her feet from the rainstorm that had come through Lindith two days past now. The forest somehow seemed to keep the moisture of that rain in the clutches of its belly making it very humid and misty in some areas. Another howl filled the air of the dark evening. This time it was closer. There was no way she would be able to out run a pack. As she touched the hilt of her belt knife she knew there would be no way of killing them either. Carefully she searched the outlining of the forest ground back the way she had come.

The Sithrel was a monster of its own. Some called it a forest that would drive the most heroic warrior insane with its many dangers and uncertainties. It was so easy to get turned around amid the beast, as trees stood everywhere with limbs that stretched in all directions creating an eerie nightmarish atmosphere. They were like cruelly twisted hands grabbing in every available space hoping to grab at some poor defenseless creature. The branches even disallowed the sun to peak into the trapped land so that she wasn’t able to see how much time she had before night would be fully upon her. She nearly almost wanted to throw up again at the thought of spending the night in the massive forest. At night was when the things that preyed on the weak animals of the forest came out of their dens and nests. The trees were one thing but the plant life on the ground was just as alarming. One would have to avoid spine roots, which were barely noticeable especially with the high razor grass blanketing the ground as it did in the forest. Then there were carou bushes that looked inviting with beautiful blossoms but that was just an act. What most didn’t know because carou bushes only grew in the Sithrel Forest was that the blossoms were meant as a sort of trap for anyone who came to close because if someone did… Danae shuddered as she thought of the stories she had heard of people going to close to the plant either on purpose or inadvertently. That was where the phrase “It is better to be dead than to touch a carou blossom” came from. All throughout the Free Countries that phrase was used even when most had never even seen a carou blossom. There were other dangers all around her but those were minimal compared to the danger she was in at the moment. At least carou bushes couldn’t chase and hunt you down. All of these dangers came about for a reason, though. Everyone in Lindith knew the story of the First Age great city of Lyroas. It was a city that housed the greatest army the Free Countries had ever seen. There was no attempt by Kaz”Darothin forces that could best the Spears of Lyroas but the story went that the army began to deal with Kaz’Darothin in secret and because of this the Light engulfed the city with a forest that it could never beat. Trees and plants grew rapidly all over, pushing through the stone streets and walls of buildings and in a matter of days the entire city had been abandoned and destroyed with only its remains scattered all over. Along with the forest came the dangers that gave the Sithrel its reputation.

She cursed herself for running into the forest earlier that morning. How could she think she would be able to lose the pack in here? Somehow she felt like she deserved to die for making that judgment however she did not believe she deserved to die a death at the hands of a prowler. No one deserved such a death except maybe a chosen few but those chosen few would easily be able to best a simple minded prowler. The only thing a prowler knew was to hunt and kill—nothing more and nothing less. Another howl sounded, making her heart stop a moment and then she jumped as a scream of something dying rang in her ears. Silently she prayed to the Light for mercy and grace and protection, making promises of things she would and wouldn’t do if she were allowed to live past this day.

The howls were still far off but getting closer. Staying behind the yellow wood would do nothing. Frantically she thought of every scenario she could possibly think of. What could she do? She knew she had to try to do something—anything that would give her a better chance at living. Giving up was not an option. The forest had plenty of places to hide but it was in those places that other things hid in themselves or where things lived in. Sharing a hole with a musk badger was hardly putting oneself in a better situation. The trees would do no good either with the nests of shrieks. Those were almost as bad as being hunted by a prowler. No, she did not feel like losing her eyes tonight. The trees were not a viable option she was afraid. Not to mention that prowlers were said to be great climbers of not only trees but rocky cliffs as well. There however would be no rocky summits in this area of the world. Her best chance was to keep moving away from the howls.

Prowlers were strange in the way that they stalked their prey because their eyesight was very bad but their nose was keen on scents. As long as they had your scent it was nearly guaranteed they would not forget it. They did not stalk and chase down their prey like a wolf did a rabbit. They seemed to hunt in a fashion where they used every member of the pack in a strategic pattern. For simple minded creatures they would not just rush their prey in hopes of reaching it first before the others, instead all six prowlers would hunt together sharing their target once they overcame it. Danae had decided for herself that it was their animal instinct that drove them to hunt like this—nothing else. She may have never seen one but her knowledge of them might give her a better chance. The situation was hand in hand… in one hand it looked like a benefit with the thought that you had longer to live because the prowlers would not just rush springing upon you in an instant, but in the other hand it was a mind game. Their instinct caused fear in you to the point where you thought maybe it was better to stay put. Running would only get you so far before all six prowlers were upon you all at once. The longer she thought of the whole thing the more she began to see her doom and lose hope and faith in the Light. Quickly she struggled to push those thoughts from her mind. Her strength was there deep within her, she knew and thoughts of giving into death could not be an option in fact they would not. Not as long as she still breathed.

Moving forward through the confines of the land, she repeated over and over a prayer of trust in the Light. Slowly, but surely she gained peace and calmness in herself but not without recognizing the danger that still followed her. Keeping that in mind kept her senses sharp and her mind solid without wavering. A shriek bellowed its deafening call east of her. It was nothing to be alarmed about as the fierce bird was only calling out to its mate. There were so many dangers in the Sithrel but none of them were ones that pursued you like the prowlers. The forest was very still during the day as things slept. She had to do something before nightfall but what? It had been awhile since the last howl when she saw what lay ahead of her. Large clusters of carou bushes lay ahead of her, making her stop momentarily amazed. The blossoms were mesmerizing. It was the first time she had laid eyes on them and it was something her eyes would never forget. She now understood why people were caught by the trap. Each blossom was rich in color. From where she stood she could barely make out the yellow outlining around the pollen and next was a deep blue that outlined the yellow. Outlining the blue was the darkest, richest red she had ever seen. The shade would alone make the most beautiful red rose look like nothing more than a weed. Following the red was a purple no other color could match. A painter could never create that color on a canvas. There was no mixture unless the painter was able to get a sample of the color, which was very unlikely. Stunning was the only word that could describe the blossom in all its beauty. Then it occurred to her, if she were somehow able to drive the prowlers into the large cluster... but how? Did they know what the plant was? Did they know the immediate danger they would be in if they were to come to close to it? What would be the harm in trying though? Carefully she studied the area looking for anything that could be used in her attempt. Bait! That’s what she needed bait. The prowlers were following her scent. If she were to place a piece of her clothes on the carou bushes then that may be enough of a distraction to create more distance between them in the time it would take the prowlers to realize they were tricked. She counted on their stupidity and that was enough to satisfy her decision. It was the only viable plan at the moment. Looking around briefly, she then looked down at her dress. It was dirty and matted with hundreds of wrinkles due to her running within the last couple of days. If clean it would be a beautiful cotton piece, green with crossing patterns embroidered on the hem and neckline. She decided that the excess length on the hem would have to do. It will also allow her to move somewhat better in the forest. She took her belt knife, cut and ripped a long piece from the hem making it quite uneven and very noticeable but she was not trying to impress anyone at the moment… just trying to stay alive. The hard part was determining how close she could get to the carou cluster before she was in sure danger of the plant. Each step was a debate in her mind. How much closer? Is this too close? Is this too far to throw the strip of her dress on the plant’s blossoms? Stunning… She pushed the thought away. After a few more steps and sweat nearly dripping off of her face, she decided she was close enough. It was almost as if she was staring death in the face. She knew she had only one chance; another would not be available to her. The blossoms were a good maybe ten feet away she guessed. Any closer and she would be risking too much. Carefully, but quickly she bunched up the ripped strip of her dress, but like cloth did it would not stay in that form long. What could she do she wondered? Nothing came to mind… just nothing. Anxiously she looked around for the answer. A long howl brought her out of her search and caused her to search the woods behind her. Oh Light they were close. The rank smell of their coats just barely caught her nose. As she looked back at the blossom sweat dripped into her eyes making her bring the strip to her eyes and rubbing them attempting to stop the stinging sensation. After she wiped down the rest of her face she realized that the cloth was wet enough that it would not unbound so much.

In less than a minute she had thrown the cloth strip onto the carou blossoms and was back on her way quickly and cautiously through the forest. Carefully she made her way around razor grass avoiding apparent spine roots. In some dark patches she knew diggers and black-tailed foxes dwelled in silence waiting for dark to come so they could begin their own hunts. Shrieks called in the trees overpowering the background noises of finches and wood mice. Here and there she saw rash weeds tangling up and around the trunks of trees. After awhile she lost track of how long she had been running and stopped, breathing deeply and wiping sweat from her face. She nearly started laughing at the thought of comparing herself to a man and the way they sweat on a daily basis.

Then it happened. Far behind her a scream of death and pain erupted causing utter complete silence in the forest and nearly stilled her blood. Like a stone she stood there without the slightest idea of what to do or to think. At first it never even occurred to her that the sound may have come from a dying prowler that had fallen for her trap and been killed by the carou plant. Satisfaction enveloped her nearly making her forget about her present situation. She couldn’t believe it had worked. And before she could continue another scream mimicking the first silenced everything around her. She would have thought that her blood would have only frozen the first time but it did just the same the second, making her freeze in place. Two had fallen for the trap? It hardly made sense why one of the prowlers would have followed the first’s mistake unless it had tried to kill the very thing that killed its fellow pack member, but that would mean prowlers showed retaliation and revenge—an emotion that would seem unlikely for an animal, however, she had heard of wolves striking at their comrade’s killer at times if they knew they could overpower it. Of course, comparing a wolf do a prowler was like describing a fang cat to a regular house cat.

Suddenly she had realized that she needed to get moving. Too much time had gone by and it would be completely dark in under an hour and there were still four prowlers left. Light, what was she to do after that? Before the answer could come four howls called simultaneously making her trip and fall right into some razor grass. The pierces of the spine root in her palms and knees complimented the cuts she received from the razor grass. Quickly but clumsily she picked herself up and stumbled backwards falling on her back in pain. Three spines a finger length long stuck out from her hands while another three to four stuck into her knees. Tears rolled down her cheeks involuntarily as she tried to pull the spines out of her flesh but the tiny barbs that protruded from the spines sides prevented her from doing so. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs in pain and agony but she couldn’t. All that would come out of her mouth was silence with a hinge of a squeak. Blood crawled down her arms and ankles and face where the razor grass had cut her. The pure sensation of pain nearly made her pass out but she knew she couldn’t. She thought of anything to get her mind off of the pain but there was no way. As slow as she could she tried to stand up but the spines in her knees ached as it felt like their points were scraping the bone beneath her skin. Awkwardly, she crawled on her back and side in order to get out of plain site. At least behind a tree she would have some kind of cover, but she knew ultimately that it would not matter. The remaining prowlers would find her and that would be it. Cursing herself in a whisper she knew the mistake she had made and there was no way out of the situation. Eventually they would find her. Tears streamed down her face now but not just because of the pain but because she knew she was going to die for sure now. Little hope was evident. Thoughts raced through her mind as she thought about things she had and hadn’t done in her life. So badly, she had wanted to have children but there would be no chance of that ever now. Memories of her spending time with her father brought a hard smile to form through the crying. They were times of happiness and the best of her life. It had been years since her father was murdered brutally but never had a day gone by where she didn’t think of him. Other faces sped through her mind. Some had names and some didn’t. She didn’t know why but she even remembered the tastes of her favorite foods. How stupid it was to be thinking of food when she was so close to dying. Quietly she prayed to the Light for enough strength to not scream when the prowlers arrived.

The last of the day’s light was nearly gone when she caught smell of the stench of the prowlers. They were close and soon she would she them for the first time in her life and the last. As quiet and still as she could, she sat leaning against the yellow wood she thought. Night would not allow her to see the trees yellowish bark. The pain had not deceased at all but she could do nothing except push it somewhere else for the time being. Blood, tears and sweat and dirt had all dried on her face making her face feel hard and crusty causing much discomfort. Rubbing her face did nothing but cause irritation. Strange noises came from all around her. Things were moving not only on the ground but also among the trees. A wind from somewhere pushed the leaves of the trees around lightly above her. Calls of animals she did not know the names of filled her ears as she waited. Part of her almost wanted the prowlers to just finish her off while another part wished for more time. In her head she prayed to the Light for death or rescue. Either one was highly unlikely to occur but hoping hurt nothing.

Her breathing almost completely stopped when she caught sight of jaundice eyes staring at her a little ways ahead of her. All luck must have ceased to remain because the prowler was far enough ahead that it would have never seen her if it had not looked back. She breathed so quietly that she could actually hear the beast breathing itself in a congested manner. It took a step out of a shadow revealing its full form to her. It was a sight unlike any other she had ever seen with her eyes. The prowler stood almost as tall as a Lindith warhorse, nearly a whole two feet taller than herself. At first glance she would have said it was nothing more than an oversized wolf standing on its hind legs but as she stared back at it, terror enveloped her while realizing the thing in front of her was more than just an oversized wolf. Its snout was morbid with curving fangs sticking out of its mouth and claws on both of its hands and feet curved in the same manner as its fangs but they looked much sharper while the fangs just pointed. Brown matted and unwashed fur covered its entire body revealing muscles where they should be. It was a predator without equal. Saliva dripped from its mouth and without warning it growled, leaned back on its hind legs preparing to pounce, but before it could blood sprayed from its chest as someone ran across in front of it yelping in pain.

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Faithful Until Death