Prologue

    

 

    The smell never left him. It was the kind that would cling to the skin, even after several baths with water so hot to the point of boiling and enormous quantities of salt enough to flake the skin.

The scent of the dead took root in the soul. Better to not speak of the sounds. Screams, breaking bone and clashing steel, because those tended to linger with men like him; they walked with him and even slept next to him on the odd night that he found himself able to close his eyes.

That is how the guard walked on this moonless night, accompanied by his always present reminders and lifelong companions. Not even the deafening silence of the forest could keep the screams that rebounded through his head at bay.

After a while, a whiff of smoke made him realize that not all of the screams where coming from his own mind.

Rising from beyond the tree line was a yellow glow, mixed with a melody of cries and the crackling of burning wood. He took to a run before thinking,  what he found was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

People ran and tripped over fallen bodies, spears protruding from their backs. Some remained behind with tubs of water in a feeble attempt to put an end to the hungry fire, while men in horses roared as they went on pilfering what was left of the now village of embers.

Such were the fates that on this night, his first night of solitude, free of his uniform, for the first time in over a hundred moons, he were to find himself in the midst of this chaos. Yet, that did not stop him. He charged out of the covering of shadows and unsheathing his sword he met the first horseman on his path.

The gentle creature was the first to receive the guard’s blow, making its rider topple to the ground; but, quick at his feet, the rider was already facing the guard with an amused grin on his sweat dripping face.

The rider ended as an easy kill; he could have never been a match for the guard, who had been birthed for this single purpose and nothing existed outside of it.

The heat from the houses, which were now pyres, made his skin turn red from exposure as he trotted further in, trying to sift through the screams and the sounds of battle that filled the air.

Then a high pitched scream pierced clearly through the clashing noise, shifting his direction toward it. That second of distraction got him nearly killed; as a spear rushed close by his head, scratching his ear in its trajectory, but the guard’s reflexes were too quick for the thrower and he ran at him in a full charge.

The guard blocked the man’s first hit with his forearm and struck his weapon with his left hand. In return, he received a forceful knee to his gut, winding him as he staggered several steps back. The high-pitched scream rang in his ears again and when he turned, he saw a ragged man dragging the child, a girl; she couldn’t be any more than thirteen years of age.

Just then, he saw a third horseman, riding directly towards the young girl and the foul creature that called himself a man. In that second he forgot about his opponent and turned to the aid of the girl who stood no chance against two men. His opponent, however, had other intentions and swung his sword up for a posterior blow.

The bloodthirsty rider never had a chance to register the guard’s uncanny reflexes, which made him seem almost omnipresent. Without turning to meet the upraised sword, he took a long stride backwards, thrusting his blade back and drove it straight through and in between the poor ignorant man’s ribs.

The heat had begun to dry his eyes when he looked up, eyeing the other horseman riding in fast. Without losing speed, he swung a leg over the thundering horse and landed with his feet firmly on the ground. Immediately the guard’s gaze searched for the child who was still being dragged, unconsciously now, roughly through the ruble.

The rider, now running, sped towards them and the guard instinctively went for his boot dagger and threw it at his head. His aim was true, but the rider’s reflexes seemed to match his own, and even in mid-run he crouched as the dagger swept past him, grazing his cheek. In a fraction of a second the rider resumed his run while returning the courtesy toward the guard with a dagger of his own.

He moved swiftly and the guard only dodged the attackers throw by a centimeter. Continuing his pursuit, he noticed that the rider was small in build— no match for him— but as he closed in on him with full force he saw the rider’s hand reach for another dagger. To his surprise, it did not meet his own chest but struck the girl’s aggressor in the back instead.

His surprise carried on as he watched the rider skid into the girl’s captor, knocking him to the ground. Just as the guard was nearly within reach of the girl, the rider picked her up from the ground, shaking her back to consciousness.

He noticed that the rider did not carry the girl, but instead struggled to drag her away. He did not appear to be very muscular, but slender. Perhaps he was merely a boy without enough strength to carry the young girl; perhaps he was her older brother who came to her rescue.

He was only a couple of steps away when the boy saw him, and reached automatically for a weapon at his waist, but came up empty. The guard already had his hands raised while trying to get a better look at the boy’s hooded face. It wasn’t until the girl opened her eyes with a plea as she lifted a hand to grab hold of her savior, that the guard saw a glimpse of the boy’s features.

Most of his face was still hidden under the shadow of the hood. What the guard noticed was the thin streak of blood that trickled down his delicate jaw; quite the contrast to his uniquely-colored skin, creamy and smooth. As the boy tried to help the young girl to stand, she gripped his cloak, tearing it aside, revealing a long dark braid hidden beneath it, falling over his shoulder.

The savior was no boy, but a cream-skin woman in men’s attire.

“Please, please,” pleaded the girl, as she clung to the woman’s shoulder, but her attention was directed straight at the guard, who stood frozen before them, bewildered by what he was witnessing.

The woman’s eyes had him trapped. They were amber oceans that seemed to stare intently into his soul, as she pondered his fate. He saw such force in that gaze, it made him wonder if there was anything he could do if she decided to end his life.

Finally the young girl’s cries broke the spell and the amber-eyed woman grasped her by the waist, supporting her weight on her. She turned just as another man ran up to them with a smile so wide, it oozed with malice.

The woman had no time to react while she held the girl upright, but when she turned, she saw the man fall on his face. The guard had drawn the dagger from the fallen monster and thrown it at the man. Neither the woman nor the girl spared a glance toward the guard, as they darted toward open fields.

The guard ran after them, but they seemed not to hear him.

“Head toward the woods!” he screamed at them. It was a mad act to venture out into the open.

He breathed out in relief when they stopped, thinking they had heard him, but instead he saw the woman pucker her lips into a whistle. Even though he heard nothing, she made the same gesture repeatedly. It wasn’t until he stood just behind them, looking around for a threat, that he heard the faint angelic sound, followed by the sight of the same gleaming gold stallion she had been riding as he had rushed toward them through the sea of smoke.

He muttered under his breath as if what he was witnessing could be his own combat-tired mind playing games on him, but, it was indeed real. The creature stopped before them and knelt, permitting the woman to mount the girl on its back. He noticed however, that the woman did not mount herself, but instead whispered something into the animal’s ear that made him stand swiftly and dart toward the cover of the forest.

“What are you doing!?” Said the guard, as he looked after the fleeing horse, but she merely directed him a glance before reaching behind her back and unsheathing her concealed sword; a sword that in no way belonged to her, judging not only by its height but also its worth.

His mind had no time to process the scene as the woman dressed like a man, ran straight back toward the houses, sword in hand. He spared no time with thinking and just followed suit.

She went door to door, knocking each one down and finding the houses empty. From house to house they went, as far as the fire permitted them without choking.

“The houses are lost. If anyone is in there, they already share the same fate,” he said, his voice gruff from the burning smoke. She merely glanced at him without a word, her face still partially concealed by shadows.

Then the sound of trumpets blasted through the air and he saw her eyes shift in the direction of the incoming aid of guards. A lot of good they would be, now that all the damage was done.

The woman immediately sheathed her sword and produced the same whistle she had made before. The second the stallion was in sight, she darted toward it.

The guard had no time to ask where she was going as he ran the opposite direction to meet the cavalry. When he turned to see the rushing horse, he saw her mount it without ever stopping, as swift and light as a feather. She moved with such skill, it was easy to imagine that this wasn’t her first time in this sort of situation.

By the time he had met with the guards and turned to look on last time at the fleeing amber-eyed woman, but she had vanished.

He told them what he had witnessed, minus the woman. In this world not many would believe that a woman would be able to yield such strength as he had witnessed tonight, and besides, her manner told him she was the kind of person who wouldn’t like to be known.

It was a dangerous thing to play the part of a man and he suspected that she was not from any neighboring clans. She has moved with such grace, she must have been trained. Perhaps a thief or mercenary from across the sea; he would never know.

The fates had played well with him that night, and so the mysteries of the encounter were preserved to him alone.

Little did he suspect that this was only the beginning of a long-toiled fate from the universe.

~