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Scribe
Join Date: Feb 2007
Location: PA
Gender: Female
Posts: 66
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Arkrillian - fantasy - kingdoms, epic war, demons, angels, magic
Prologue is missing! In it you'll get background into the world and heavens at large, how everything works, and I'll introduce a major demon. Please bear with me... it's still being written. Thanks! Now... onto chapter 1.
Chapter 1
Hemlock needles scratched at Calidor Herrick's bare arms and plucked at his woolen cloak as he left the dirt path behind him. He paused a moment to look back, to make sure no one saw him. Above the trees he could just make out a few threads of silver smoke from the village chimneys, curling and weaving above the still morning air of Whistwater. He nodded, confident that most people were only beginning to rub the sleep from their eyes. He would not be missed for a long while yet.
Turning away, he began snaking through the dense forest undergrowth. The trees here were small, clamoring things, fighting the weeds and smothering the earth. He knew they would soon pass, that farther on the trees were tall and little sunlight could penetrate the canopy to feed the forest floor. Taking a deep breath, Calidor felt the crisp air begin to penetrate his troubled mind. He increased his pace as the weeds melted away in the half-light of the forest. Falling into a rhythm, his feet whispered across mossy stones, black earth, and leaves that had fallen many seasons ago.
This was an ancient forest, the volatile edge between the Kingdom of Kilgard, and the Yanoveh Empire. Called the Ahyil by the natives, it was a dangerous place to wander. Masked raiders from the grasslands beyond the river frequented this area, seeking money and blood. He recalled the stories of the men, the Yaneh, taught to him on his grandfather's knee. They were savages, rash and violent, and worshippers of the old gods. Calidor's hand brushed against his belted dagger, making sure it was secure, and reminded himself to stay alert.
The birds had not yet flown from the forest. As he ran, they darted from tree to tree, twittering and hiding amidst the fiery leaves of the great oaks and maples. Calidor suppressed a shudder, recalling his dream again. There was a fire, a great funeral pyre… and so many bodies. Calidor shook his head. He didn't want to remember any more. Trees rushed by him as he pushed his body faster, seeking the quiet that only exhaustion would bring. Straw colored hair turned tawny and slick as it clung to his forehead. Mile after mile was swallowed up by the vigorous pumping of his body, hard and muscular from months spent sweating over his father's forge.
The sound of rushing water caressed his ears. Calidor was close, the river just ahead. His footsteps slowed, their steady beat broken, as the ground changed. Larger rocks and boulders stuck out randomly from the earth, uncovered by the seasonal flooding of the old river. Ferns and other low plants dotted the forest floor now, wrestling the exposed roots of ancient trees, and through their leaves he could see glimmers of sunlight dancing on water. He picked his way among them, coming to the base of one of the larger boulders which he knew jutted out through the trees and offered a clear view of the river. Putting his head down, he began to climb, enjoying the solid strength of the rock beneath his calloused hands. Breaking through the canopy was almost like entering a new world, sunlight poured over him and the confining ceiling of leaves was replaced by a limitless sky. Chest heaving, Calidor stood and walked to the edge, drinking in the view of the mighty Mihon River rushing past him, churning and foaming. Near his village the river cut deep though the land, swift and quiet, but here at the fords, the sheer power of it took his breath away.
He raised his hand to his forehead, wiping away the collected dirt and grime. The fords were a long way from his family's home, but here Calidor knew that he could truly be alone and right now he needed the solitude, to work through the tangle and confusion of his mind. He lay down upon the rock, stretching and drinking in the radiating warmth of the stone that flowed through his tired body. A slight breeze danced across his face, and the murmur of leaves joined the clamor of the river far below. Calidor let the peace of the place wash over him, at last allowing himself to fall into his thoughts.
The dream was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Too vivid and insanely surreal, it crouched in his mind every moment, clouding his thoughts and draining him. If he slept at all, the dream would find him, leaving him shaken and terrified though he could never quite remember why. Calin had said this would happen, that the visions would begin whether he wanted them or not. The brothers were Winter born and could see things other seasons couldn't. The Sight was a common gift, he had said, but that if you were powerful, you would know the future, could see across oceans, and even bend others to your will.
Calidor stared hard at the blue dome above him. He needed his brother now, but he was gone, off fighting for King Arkrillian. Calidor had to find someone to speak with who could help him understand what he had seen. His steel blue eyes, eyes so like his father's, darkened. Even now the vision didn't seem quite real, it was unspoken and existed only in his mind. He was reluctant to change that, to let words give life to his nightmare. Blowing a long breath between his lips, he knew he had no choice. The Sight would always be a part of him and he would rather deal with it than be consumed by it.
He would go to his brother's mentor, Saliden Keating, a wizened old Seer that belonged to the village council. Few strong Seers dwelt in Whistwater, and fewer still that Calidor could trust. Saliden was nearing his last winter and, if the rumors were believed, was becoming a little touched in the head, but Calidor had no one else to turn to. Relief, mingled with dread, coursed through his body, defeating any desire to return home straight away. He knew he should go back to the village, but he couldn't bring himself to stand just yet. Closing his eyes for a moment, he savored the feeling that exhaustion and a clear course of action brought. For the first time in days he felt calm. Still, Calidor had every intention of getting up after stealing a few more minutes of peace.
*****
Calidor had expected to take his time walking home, but he had to hurry now after sleeping so long. He wasn't sure exactly how much time had passed since he awoke and began running home, but the sun was past its zenith and even in the shade of the forest the air was warm. The dirt path was just ahead, and this time Calidor's pace didn't slow as the trees thickened around him. His faded, sapphire tunic clung to him, wicking the sweat from his body and cooling him as branches snagged it and sent bursts of air against his skin. Raising his arms, he shielded his face and squinted against whipping leaves. His legs kicked high with each stride, sailing over most of the thicker weeds and avoiding their snares, but it wasn't enough to protect him from the violent shifting of leaves beneath his feet as a figure emerged from under the debris, catching his ankles and launching him hard to the ground.
Calidor crashed heavily onto his elbows, his face inches from the dirt, while an unseen assailant straddled his hips and pinned him to the ground. His movements were pure reaction, knees grinding into the damp earth, giving Calidor the needed leverage to shift his hips. Loose dirt and leaves churned under Calidor's hand as it flashed to his side, gripping his dagger and pulling it free.
His attacker was thrown off-balance by the sudden shift, just enough for Calidor to continue his roll. His arm trailed across his chest and then snapped up, the momentum driving his dagger at his enemy's masked face, the mask of the Yaneh. A solid fist connected with Calidor's forearm, stealing the strength from his hand and sending the dagger flying.
The power behind the impact forced his assailant's arm to go wide and shoulder to roll back, lending energy to his opposite arm, which came around in a sharp, left hook to Calidor's temple. Stars swam before his watering eyes, and his attacker became a blurred shadow. Blood pounded in his head as he felt the hips that still straddled him shift back and balance, the Yaneh drawing himself up.
Forcing his vision back into focus, Calidor saw the Yaneh's fist high overhead, beginning a whip-like plunge toward his face. He bucked beneath his attacker, throwing him forward and catching the Yaneh's descending wrist in his hand. Calidor pulled it to the side, the fist landing mere inches from his head, and held it tight to the ground. Muscles stretched and corded as Calidor pushed hard against his assailant's opposite shoulder, rolling him up and over the trapped arm, landing the Yaneh flat on his back. Calidor rolled with him, using the momentum to pull his knees in, hoping to pin his assailant to the ground.
The Yaneh was already gone, twisting up and skittering back out of his reach. Calidor jumped up, but was thrown back, staggering, as a sharp roundhouse kick connected with his lower chest. He doubled over, feigning serious injury, hoping to draw the Yaneh within reach again. His breath came hard and fast as his attacker kicked high, seeking to end the fight with a solid blow to Calidor's head.
He sidestepped quicker than the Yaneh expected and shuffled in close, grabbing his thigh as Calidor slid his foot behind the assailant's planted leg. Wrapping his free arm around his attacker's torso, Calidor tipped forward and slammed his shoulder into the Yaneh's body. Keeping the assailant's foot trapped behind his, Calidor swept the Yaneh's only support away and fell with his attacker, driving hard into their chest as the pair landed heavily on the ground.
The body below him thrashed and gasped for breath as Calidor drew his legs in tight, pinning the Yaneh to the earth. One hand wrapped around the assailant's throat as Calidor pushed up and drew back his arm. Veined muscles flexed as he prepared to end the fight.
Cold steel pressed against Calidor's neck as his head was jerked back by the hair. His body froze mid-strike as he stared, unseeing, at the branches above him. A face moved close to his, cheek to cheek, with warm and silent breath that swirled against his quivering skin.
"It's not fair, is it," mocked the unseen assailant as he played the edge of the dagger against Calidor's taut skin, "wielding a dagger against an unarmed opponent?"
Calidor's eyes widened. He knew that voice. Tension melted from his body and he relaxed his hold on the body beneath him. The prone attacker squirmed and wriggled free, drawing into a crouch before him.
"Damn it, Falonir!" gasped Calidor, his neck aching from the awkward angle, "Let go!"
"As you wish," he said, releasing his hold on Calidor's damp hair. Falonir stood and dropped his friend's lost dagger to the ground.
Massaging the back of his neck, Calidor picked it up and replaced it on his belt as he eyed the crouched figure before him. "A little rough, weren't you?" he said.
"Aye, well, you shouldn't have pulled the dagger on me." Danora removed her mask and tossed it aside, her fiery red hair dark and wet with sweat as she shook it out. She winked at him, as though today had been just another workout. "Besides, I needed a bit of fun. We've been looking for you all morning."
"You said you would meet us at Durson Fields for sparring," Falonir added, coming around to stand beside Danora, "before they began to set up for the festival."
Calidor seemed distracted, his eyes on the mask. "Sorry. I lost track of time."
"Falonir's father returned home last night," Danora explained, following his gaze. "he brought the mask with him."
Falonir knelt down as his face darkened at the mention of his father, but it passed before either of his friends caught it. Draping an arm across Danora's strong shoulders, he added, "We thought it would add a little excitement," Falonir smirked as she tilted her head from side to side, wincing. "Though I doubt Danora would still agree."
"I'm alright," she huffed, shrugging Falonir's arm off. Her dark, emerald eyes studied Calidor's troubled face. "You were at the river, then?"
"Yes." Calidor raised his head and looked at them.
Falonir and Danora exchanged concerned glances. They never had gone to the fords with him, but both knew Calidor went there only when something was wrong. Falonir frowned as he leaned in closer, "What happened?"
"Just a dream… maybe more than a dream," Calidor sighed, "I don't know if it means anything or not."
"Can we help?" asked Danora, chewing on her bottom lip, as she always did when concerned.
"I don't think so. I'd rather not talk about it right now anyway."
Falonir caught Danora's eye, a new thought had just occurred to him. "When did you leave this morning?" Falonir asked, looking back at Calidor.
"About sunrise," answered Calidor, thankful of the subject change, "Why?"
"We'd better start back to the village," said Falonir, standing up and smiling at Calidor's confused expression, "I'm not saying anything more about it. Your father will want to be the one to tell you."
Calidor sighed, but knew better than to try to change Falonir's mind once it was made up. Muscles, tight from kneeling, protested as he rose and looked down at Danora. She was brushing stray leaves from her tunic, watching him.
"You're getting better. I'd say another few years and you might beat me," she said, smiling sweetly.
Falonir snickered, "A few years at the very least. Your muscles have grown, but I do believe you're getting slower, Calidor."
Calidor glared at both of them. It didn't hold long. He knew his friends were trying to lighten his mood and was thankful for it. "I had you beaten, Danora."
"Do you really think you could have tripped me up if I hadn't let you?" she said, shaking her head at him, "I was just letting Falonir have some fun too."
Calidor raised his eyebrows, as a genuine smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He reached out his hand for Danora, offering to help her to her feet. Their eyes met as she questioned the gesture.
"That's awfully nice of you. Perhaps you're trying to win a dance at the festival tomorrow night?" she grinned as she accepted his hand and stood.
"Actually, I just thought you might need a little help up after getting your ass handed to you," answered Calidor, quick to step out of Danora's reach. "But I suppose I can fit you into my list of partners."
"Ever the charmer," Falonir laughed, black eyes twinkling through dark, brown wisps of hair. He stretched his slim arms high above his head and turned, starting out of the forest toward home. Danora followed suit, scowling at Calidor as she passed. Calidor laughed, knowing she wasn't offended in the least.
He followed along behind them, listening to the easy banter of his friends. They discussed the fight, raising their voices now and then, attempting to draw him into the conversation. Calidor kept quiet, content to watch the patterns of sunlight and shade dance across Danora's hair. He frowned. An image flashed across his mind, a vision of her hair, blood caked and matted in a tangled web. His heart pounded and a chill crept through his body as the dream surfaced in his thoughts once more. He remembered now what terrified him so about the dream, the part he had always blocked out, the part where he found the lifeless bodies of his two friends and saw his own hands, covered in blood.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading!
By the way, I had posted this before, (The thread is now deleted) and then started a new thread for Chapter 2. But I changed my mind on doing each chapter in a separate thread. I might not get as many readers with such a large thread, but I think it'll be easier to follow the story if everything is all in one place.
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