Arista sang a low tune in her elven tongue, the words pouring from her heart like water over rocks. She stepped over a fallen branch, her leather shoes sliding soundlessly through the forest. Birds chirped with her song, flowers bent towards her, the music flowing seamlessly into the surrounding nature.

The sunlight filtered through the trees, illuminating dust in the air in golden light. The whole forest was alit in the auburn and gold glow, lifting Arista’s spirits and making her mission that much more enjoyable.

She reached the village archery clearing, targets laid out randomly throughout the underbrush of the forest. The woman in the village usually moved them every day, but given the new mission for the archers, had refrained from doing so today,

Quieting her song, Arista pulled the arrow from her leather quiver over her shoulder and knocked it into the niche in her bow. The new arrows were metal rather than the wooden ones she was used to. The elders expected all the woman to have mastered the use of the longer range arrows. Her bow was light in her hand and the elf faced the wooden standing target before her. The large red ring encased a smaller yellow one, which circled a small white sphere.

Raising her bow and pulling the arrow and string back, her right palm resting slightly against her jawline and fingertips brushing her lips, she aimed for the center of the small white dot. The wind blew by her, rustling the trees surrounding her forest clearing. A leaf landed in her hair, but she ignored it, determined to shoot this new arrow properly the first time.

She released the arrow, the metal clinking loudly, much louder than Arista was used to, and it flew with speed towards the painted rings…

And landed in the side of the yellow ring, nearly having landed in the red zone.

With a scowl, she retrieved another arrow, and drew it back, aimed and fired.

When the arrow once again lodged itself on the border of yellow and red, still on the left side of the target, she scoffed. So her shooting was accurate, the arrows were faulty. Her aim was perfect! Only Diana, her twin sister, was a better archer.

Determined and refusing to be deterred, she drew another arrow, unused to the metallic sound of the arrows scrapping against each other. She aimed, and this time directed her shot slightly to the right, grunting in annoyance when the arrow landed too far to the right, the clash of the arrow and the wooden target loud in the clearing.

But not louder than the rough laugh that followed, the pitch much darker than Arista was used to. Hey eyes widening, she spun around, notching in another arrow and aiming it words the man sitting in the tree behind her.

He was lounging on one of the lower tree branches, a bright red apple in his hand, on leg draping down past the branch, the other bent and drawn back. Never before had Arista seen a man, but she knew the stories of the woman in her village and was determined not to fall prey to such a monster.

She shot the arrow, battle instincts readying, completely forgetting that she had not once succeeded in hitting her practice target, a stationary practice target.

The blonde haired boy did not even try to dodge the arrow, the projectile landing solidly in the tree a few scant inches from his head. He was watching her with bright, clear blue eyes and a smirk plastered on his face, hidden by his apple as he took a bite.

“Need help?” the blonde offered, his voice a much, much lower pitch than those of the women in her tribe, and her fury seethed as she glared angrily at him, silent.

 

*                      *                      *

 

Raiden was extremely amused at the moment. The fiery Amazon below him was giving his boredom a good kick in the arse. Never would he have imagined that lustfully chasing after such a beautiful singing voice in the forest would lead him to such a prize.

The elf below was tall, taller than many of the woman he had seen in the cities he had traveled through. Her limbs were longer too, and lean with muscle he had never before seen on a woman. Rich strawberry blonde hair cascaded down her back, small braids woven here and there. Her eyes though, it was her bright orange eyes that caused his desire for her to grow, irises like molten lava… No, he corrected himself, like the sun.

“Need some help?” he offered, loving the tension that built around her. He enjoyed her garb even more. The cloth dress she wore had a sharp V-cut neckline, giving him a nice view of the upper swell of her breasts. The collar cuffing the back of her neck dropped down to wrap her arms and torso in soft brown silk, clinging to her body like it was her skin, yet appeared so soft to the touch. The golden and brown cloth fanned out gracefully and slightly around her hips, the cloth pleating in places before cutting out completely halfway down her thighs, giving Raiden a beautiful view of long, silky and creamy colored legs. If all Amazons dressed as such, he would die a happy man.

Although a part of him did not want to know what lethal things might be hidden in the various pouches handing from the belt around her waist.

“You do know that these forests are home to the Amazon woman, correct?” she spat at him, reaching for another arrow.

Smirking cockily, Raiden took another bide of the apple and swung his body from the hips to hop out of the tree, landing softly in the soil. He strode towards Arista, and gently took her bow in one hand while swiping at her chin with the other. The angry look in her eyes should have warned him off, but she seemed to be thinking, unsure of what to do.

He swiped and arrow from her quiver as he stepped past her and drew the bow, aiming for her target. He discreetly charged the metal arrow with his lightning blessing, the electricity stinging around the arrow.

“These are aluminum arrows,” Raiden explained to the Amazon woman, “And they are lighter than wooden ones, and don’t pack as much of a punch.” She seethed at his explanation, but staid quiet, eyes evaluating him. He took that as a good sign and continued. “They are carried by the wind, so you will have to correct for wind speed.”

She let out an oath and reached for the bow, but Raiden let the arrow loose, using his blessing magic to steer the metal directly towards the center of the target. He was not an archer after all, how was he supposed to impress the woman without cheating?

When his shot landed in the dead center of the white sector of the series of circles, the Amazon stopped reaching for her bow and instead stared at the target. Her hand froze on the bow and she no longer tried to retch it from his hand. Raiden felt particularly proud of himself for learning how to tame an Amazon.

Raiden let go of the bow and watched it drop into her arm. He tipped an imaginary hat and smirked. “Well, my Amazon what is your name?”

She gave him a sideways glance, no longer hostile and more intrigued. “You knew these woods belonged to the Amazon tribes yet you ventured in regardless?”

“Now, that’s not fair,” he said humorously, “You have not yet answered my question.”

With a resigned sigh, she pivoted on her heal and made a motion with her fingers, her middle and thumb fingers curled back, the rest extended and palm resting on her chest. Then she bowed delicately, and stated “Arista Caeli, Archer of the Saramatia Tribe.” Her bow gave Raiden a nicer view of her figure, but inside he was reveling in her introduction. Why did men speak so fearfully of these woman?

“Raiden Eyrie,” he introduced himself, letting his eyes run over her and his imagination run to dangerous places.

“Pleased to meet you,” Arista said, the comment muttered and awkward. Seemed like Raiden had more wooing to do. Actually, Arista began to back away uncomfortably. Now that irritated him.

“Problem” Raiden asked, noting that she rose from her bow and stiffened at the comment.

“You’re male,” Arista stated awkwardly. “We are Amazon. A man is only useful for procreation according to village laws.”

Raiden smirked at that, liking where the conversation could lead. “Well I’d be willing to help you formulate your own opinion on that subject.” Please have her understand the innuendo, Raiden prayed.

It appeared that she did not and only nodded, eyes evaluating him calmly. “You still have not answered my question,” Arista smiled brightly at him. “What are you doing here?”

Grinning at his new pet, Raiden stated “I heard singing. Singing that would shame the sirens of the east. I came to investigate the voice of angels.”

When Arista blushed at Raiden’s comment, he gave himself a small pat on the back.

“Arista!” another feminine voice shouted, and a metallic arrow flew past Raiden’s ear, causing both people in the circle to jump in both surprise and fear.

A woman approached, bow drawn and aimed for Raiden. She wore the same outfit as Arista, though her hair was a darker shade. The two were clearly related, but this woman did not seem to have any intention of talking to Raiden.

“Diana!” Arista exclaimed, smiling and trying to approach the hostile Amazon.

But the look that Diana gave Arista was one of both disappointment and pure disdain. “Arista, silence! This man has come too close to the village! Kill him now!”

“But-” Arista tried to argue, and was met with another barked order from Diana.

Raiden knew it was time to leave, but could not refrain himself from leaning over to kiss Arista on the cheek, then ran towards the trees, stopping once to give a merry wave to Arista. He was met with another arrow that whizzed past his face, slicing his cheek open in a thin and shallow, yet painful scratch. With a flinch and dodging more metal arrows, Raiden escaped back into the woods, promising himself he would return.

 

*                      *                      *

 

Arista sat on her knees, inhaling the smoke from the incense in the tent. The candles lit around the room gave off scents of their own, but the appearance they gave off in the tent was foreboding and judgmental. Much like the disapproved shriveled faces of the village elders.

“You say that you attacked the man when you first saw him?” Mirama, the eldest of the village elders, glared at Arista angrily. “If that is true, why then was he still alive while Diana arrived. And why were you speaking with him?”

Arista flushed in both shame and anger. “I did not know how to use the new metal arrows,” she explained. “And he took my bow from me to demonstrate.”

“Yet you were speaking to him!” snapped Lorine, the Elder Medic. She, like the rest of the Elders, were unimpressed with Arista’s explanation. “Why were you engaging in conversation with a male?”

Blushing angrily, Arista fervently defended herself. “He knew how to use the arrows. I was interrogating him for information to better my own skills.”

Diana, leaning against the tent with her arms crossed behind Arista, said nothing. Arista was silently begging her to step forward and tell the Elders that she was innocent, but Diana said nothing. Sighing in regret, Arista refused to look behind her and instead looked boldly into the eyes of each of the seven elders.

Mirama held up her hand and stared at Arista. “What else occurred? You have not told us the whole story.”

Arista shook her head. “He was only around for a few minutes,” she said vehemently, desperate for the Elder to believe her.

Judging by the looks on their faces, none did.

Arista was tense and terrified. All of the village knew the tale of Arista and Diana’s mother, who had fallen in love with their father. When the Elders found out, they had a pregnant Lettona kidnapped from her dwelling with her husband. The woman was held in captivity in Saramatia until the triplets were born, two twin females and one male whom was slain immediately after birth along with his mother. Arista and Diana had been watched their entire lives for signs that either would fall to their mother’s antics.

When Mirama once again raised her hand, Arista knew that her fate had been sealed. She tensed, stomach dropping, expecting to be executed.

“No crime has such been committed,” Mirama said, causing Arista’s heart to burst with hope. “However, the danger presented is irrefutable. Your actions are questionable, and if we cannot trust one of our own sisters, she cannot be allowed to remain a sister.”

Inhaling in shock, Arista’s eyes fixed on the leader of the Elders. “But Mi’lady-” she protested, soon cut off.

“You must leave the village,” Mirama declared, eyes like stone. “You may take with you only your knife, your bow, a quiver and a single, wooden arrow. You will leave wearing the cloths you bare now, nothing more. Diana will prepare a bag of fruit for three nights, and one vial of poison. You will not take your magnesium pouch, and you will not take any further weapons not armor.”

Arista began to tremble in fear. Her eyes fixed on the ground below her. The protests she wanted to voice died in her throat. Tears began to build in her eye, but she shook them away. She would not cry.

When Diana grasped Arista’s shoulder and pulled, Arista stood, her bones feeling like jelly.

She was really shaking now as she walked towards her tent, ignoring the frightened and angry glares of the surrounding Amazon women. Diana said nothing, had not spoken a word since her testimony to the Elders. When a tear fell down her cheek, Arista let it, and did more move the wipe it away.

The tent she shared with Diana was small and at the edge of the village, away from the other women. It was Lettona’s old tent, older and more tattered than the rest. Diana left towards the rations tent, leaving Arista to enter her tent and retrieve her bow and quiver from her sleeping cot. She was still numb, and the familiar feeling of the carved and smoothed wood did nothing to calm her nerves.

The sun was setting, darkness falling on the forest and the village. Arista did not wish to linger, lest she break down in fear and torment.

Whispers followed her when Arista passed through the village, searching for Diana with her rations. A child stood next to a tent, standing behind her mother, whispering to a doll in her arms. It only made Arista feel even more ill.

Diana met with Arista in the village, a leather bag in her arms. Again, Diana did not speak, and instead nodded and turned towards the other side of the village, leaving the perimeter of the village. The twins passed through the woods, leaving behind the village and all that Arista had ever known.

It was not until they reached a small dirt road used for the woman to transport goods out of the village when need be, and Diana stopped. Wordlessly she handed Arista the bag, and allowed for the now banished elf to sling the bag over her shoulder.

Arista waited for Diana to say something, a goodbye, an apology, anything, but her sister remained silent. She inhaled in anger, and straightened. “Goodbye,” she muttered, hiking up her bag and about to set off on the road.

“Arista,” Diana whispered, and Arista stopped, hope blossoming in her chest. She turned and saw her sister, but Diana was looking off back to the camp.

“Check your bag,” was all her sister said. Then, with a nod not even aimed at Arista, Diana turned and retreated back to the village.

With a lowly muttered curse, Arista retched open the bag that Diana left her and noted a large cluster of fruits and vegetables. With a roll of her eyes, Arista almost shut the bag when something caught her eye. Reaching down into the bag, Arista’s hand met something made of smooth wood.

She removed the long object, tears swelling up in her eyes again. It was her reed pipe. Her mother’s reed pipe that Arista played every chance she could get. Diana hated the thing, but never protested when Arista took the pipe with her and played a song.

Stuffing the bag back into the bag, Arista walked down the road, refusing to think about the lost and unforeseen future before her.

 

***

Author's Note

 

Hello! Thank you for reading part one of Fallen Olympians! Please note that as of posting this the story is incomplete and I am unsure when I will be posting more parts. Additionally, this is one of several prelude stories to my original novel Fallen Souls. There may be things that are slightly confusing that I will try to explain. If EVER something does not make sense, PLEASE let me know!

I'll post more soon!

 

2: A Sad Song

He crouched in the forest, the sun finally lowering enough for him to venture out of his tent. The golden forest had turned silver in the rising moonlight, the leaves rustling like bells. It was a very strange place, Seth thought, searching around him for the trail.

He felt the pull of the aura of his target and sighed, packing his small camp for the night. His mark had traveled through Amazon lands. Seth was feeling jumpy, knowing that around every tree could be a man-fearing woman ready to lock an arrow into his head. Seth spit sleep saliva out of his mouth, feeling disgusted with his mark’s unquenchable infatuation with the pleasures of woman.

His skin burned slightly in the sunset light, but he reveled in the pained sky, the orange, pink, purple and yellow stripes wrapping the sky in beauty. His hometown, surrounded by mountains, never allowed him to see such a sight. The sun only rose for three hours of the day, and those three hours of sunlight made exiting the castle impossible, and seeing the supposedly blue sky would only burn the eyes out of his sockets.

The silver forest seemed to glow, and Seth could not help but revel in the serenity of such a place, untouched by war, untouched by famine or plague. No wonder the Amazons chose this wood. The place was alive, glistening in either sun or moon.

He wrapped his tent in with his sleeping sheets and tied it into a roll before slinging it onto his horse, grazing nearby. The horse was a deep black color, with a brown mane and tail, his hooves the same color. Gray specks crawled up the legs of the horse from the hooves, disappearing at the knees, giving the appearance of stars.

His sword hung on Seth’s waist instead of on his steed. He refused to go anywhere without it, not even to the land of dreams.

Once he has finished wrapping his cloths, he opened a jar of scarlet, metallic smelling liquid and took a long swig, feeling the blood course through his stomach and run through his veins. Color returned to his pale skin, making the formerly translucent sheen disappear.

A part of him longed to find a stream and bathe a moment of two, but the trail had to be followed, and he was not going to risk losing his target because the fool tried to seduce an Amazon.

He tightened the reins on Ereba and swung into his saddle, prepared to give his chase a new vigor.

He kicked Ereba into action, the horse thrashing its head in excitement. She knew that Seth was ready for a long run, and was bristling with her eagerness to ride through the woods that felt as if it were alive.

Hooves meeting earth at a fast speed, Seth and Ereba rode at breakneck speed, eager to finally be closing in on their prey. For several years they had tracked this man, to find him, battle, then either hunter or target would become too injured to carry on, target would flee, and the search would resume.

He rode long into the night, following the road. The blood call told him to follow the trail through the silver forest, the land rolling and climbing then falling. Elation at nearly reaching his target rose within him. He was near, so ever near.

There was a soft hum in the silver air, a song that wove into the wood and the earth. It was a beautiful melody that seemed to calm his soul, though instilled a deep feeling of sadness. The farther he traversed in the forest, the more the sadness crept into his heart. Even Ereba began to feel distressed, her moves slowing, head thrashing against the despair settling upon her.

Seth pushed her forward, determined not to relent. Was this some sort of Whisper related trap set by the Amazons?

The silver of the forest turned to gray, a small familiar comfort to Seth, but when the shine disappeared, so too did all the magic that was left in the forest. Seth was bombarded with the torment and emotional agony of the song, Ereba backing away and shying from pressing onwards. But the trail followed through this region of the forest; he could not relent.

Seth reached for his Whisper door, deep within the recess of his Akaiho powers and stroked along Ereba’s neck, calming the horse. Breathe, he whispered into her mind, transferring images of warm water and clear fields.

The horse would not be swayed, she trotted in place a moment before trying to turn back, but the vampire would not let his steed shy in fear.

He dismounted, and grabbed her reins, pulling her along the path. He was determined, refusing to relent to the song…

When he could hear the steady slur of water nearby, Seth deviated from the path and marched through the untried wood, thinking that is would be a good idea to travel along the river for a time, if only to calm Ereba.

But the closer he got to the stream, the stronger the song became, so strong that it no longer sounded as if the forest itself was resonating the tune. It sounded like a musical instrument, a wind instrument.

That was when he saw her.

The Amazon, clearly an Amazon judging from her forest based garb, was sitting along the riverside, back facing him, front watching the stream. Though Seth could not see her, the position of her arms raised to her face told him that she had the piece pressed to her lips, the music pouring from her soul. A bow could be seen slung around her back and hidden under the long cascade of coppery-blonde hair.

Ereba tried to back away, terrified, and this time Seth was inclined to agree. He backed away, ready to run, but the calm and terribly sad voice behind him called “Excuse me?”

Seth froze, as did Ereba at the sound of her voice. Should he ignore her? Run? Or would she shoot him for trying? He guessed he could try to send his fire blessing after her, but he had no idea is the Amazon would be able to deter the attack.

“Excuse me?” the voice said again, followed by a rustle in the dirt that told Seth that she had stood. “Please,” she sounded on the verge of tears, “where is the nearest village?”

That surprised Seth. What was she after? He turned slowly, weary, then froze solid at the tear streaked and dirty face, hands wiping at her eyes.

When she got a look at him, she stiffened and backed away, reaching for her bow. “How many more men do I have to deal with today?” she muttered.

Now Seth was freaked out. He was going to have to kill her, no doubt about it. She was seconds away from killing him and that was not something he could let happen; his quest was unfulfilled.

But she dropped her hand, and shook her head. Taking in a deep breath, the looked him in the eyes, tears gone and only raw determination left in the swirling gold orbs. “Do you know where the nearest village is?”

With the song dying out of the forest with each passing second, Ereba was calming, and even began to tread closer to the Amazon woman, yet still shying close to Seth’s side. If Ereba had not been female, and therefore had nothing to fear from an Amazon, he would have taken that as a good sign.

She cocked her head to look at him. “Hello? Problem?”

Seth was not thoroughly confused. Why wasn’t she trying to kill him? Why wasn’t she trying to kill him?

The words spilled out of his mouth, and he wanted to smack himself for saying them. Where was his usual calm control?

She smiled at that and shook her head. “I have no reason to,” was all she said, and she looked at him with kinder eyes now, understanding in her warm gaze.

Seth could see that the forest was once again turning silver, the dull gray fading with every moment that this Amazon spoke to him. With the change in scenery that he hoped showed the state of her heart, Seth calmed and cocked his head to the right. “The town of Edornam is about twenty miles that direction.”

Bowing in gratitude, the Amazon bent low to grasp a red leather bag, revealing long, pointed ears, and slung it over her shoulder. She smiled at Seth, causing his confusion to grow. “Thank you,” she said, eyes clouding over again before making her way through the wood to the path.

Shaking his head in bewilderment, Seth mounted Ereba and turned the horse back to the road, the trotting of the hooves causing the Amazon to look behind her wearily.

Curiosity struck Seth, and he guided Ereba to walk alongside the Amazon. “Why are you leaving the wood? Most of your kind never leave unless-” Seth stopped talking at once, fear clouding his mind once more. Was that why she did not kill him?

The woman shook her head, ears poking out from her hair again. “I was banished this afternoon and must leave the forest lest the Hunters will be sent to kill me.”

She sated it as a matter of fact, yet Seth could see the sadness in the elf’s eyes, and remembered the song of despair she played earlier. Did her tribe hear the song? Did they care?

Well, one less Amazon to worry about was not something Seth would complain about.

He bit his lip, fang pricking at the skin. He really wanted to ask why she was banished, but he knew that asking might upset her even more.

“Are you traveling this way yourself?” she asked, tone just as curious as Seth felt.

He nodded. “Why were you banished?” He hit himself mentally. Why did you do that? He asked himself, wishing he could stick himself with his sword.

The elf scoffed, but did not deny his curiosity. “I ran into another male today and did not kill him.”

Relief washed over Seth so strong that his horse could feel it. She was not a killer, and clearly had no intentions of killing Seth. That was a comfort that he was not aware that he was reaching for.

Then his thoughts stopped. “Another male?” When the woman nodded, Seth inquired “Blonde? Hybrid with red eyes?”

The Amazon looked at him inquisitively. “Blonde, yes. But his eyes were blue and he did not appear to be a hybrid.”

Seth cursed his stupidity. Of course, Eyrie had learned how to use the Seal. The Amazon would not have seen his wings or demon eyes.

“How about his flirtatiousness?” Seth asked, hoping that he had a lead. “Did he flirt with you, try to seduce you?” It would be just like Eyrie to try and covet an Amazon.

But she looked at him oddly. “Flirt? Seduce? I do not know these words…”

And by the baffled look on her face, Seth was convinced that she really had no clue what he was talking about. Then he mentally hit himself again. Amazon. No men. She probably had never seen or heard of such things.

“Did he try to kiss you?” Seth asked, sure that even Amazon’s would know of those.

The Amazon nodded. “He kissed me on the cheek. I was confused, as he was not from my tribe. Why would one kiss a stranger if not to congratulate a new alliance or peaceful meeting?” Now the girl sounded beyond lost, scratching her head. “There is much I do not understand, do I not?”

Seth nodded grimly. Looks like Eyrie did pass through this way.

When he looked back down at the woman before him, he saw that her ignorance made her uneasy, and she was becoming more and more aware of such ignorance with every second.

Sighing with irritation at his compassion, Seth scooted back in the seat and help out his hand. “Want a ride to town? If will take most of the night if you go on foot.” And he could give her a few tips on going into the world while he was at it.

She heaved a relieved sigh and looked up at him gratefully. When she grasped his hand, she resisted pulling up into the front of the saddle. “What’s your name?”

He understood her weariness, at least to a degree. “Seth. Seth Phobos. And you are…?”

She smiled up at him and answered “Arista Caeli.”

 

3: Guide

Arista discovered that traveling by horse was a thousand time more efficient than traveling on foot, as she would have done had Seth not offered her a ride. He really was being more than helpful for reasons that Arista could not fathom.

He had warned her against being too trusting of people and to be weary with whatever he did. He said that her ignorance would have evil men running to her “like flies to honey.” Whatever that meant. She had asked him why he was being so helpful, but he just smiled somberly and sad that as he was not asking for anything from her, there was no danger. Arista could find no fault in that logic.

When she emerged from the woods for the first time I her life, her eyes were glued to the scene beyond Ereba. Wild plains and hills that rolled as far as the eye could see, the dark starry sky filled with stars and clouds and clouds made of stars. Trees dotted the landscape and the river ran through the hills, weaving around the small and large hills.

The town could be seen by the firelight in the windows and around the streets. Smoke billowed from chimneys and various people scurried around, dealing with their business. Arista spotted a fenced in field with horses. Maybe she would buy one… or steal, she realized that she didn’t have any money. Maybe she could sing a horse to escape with her... that would be the same as stealing she thought, sighing.

“You have a plan?” Seth asked her, steering Ereba to the town and having them gallop across open fields. “I’ll try to help you as much as I can; I have my own mission I have to take care of. And I have to be inside around sunrise.”

Arista nodded, understanding his point, yet cringed inside knowing that other than stealing a horse, she had no plan.

“What do-” she started, then shut her mouth, her ignorance once again slapping her in the face.

“Yes?” Seth prompted, the tinge in his voice telling her that he knew very well how lost she was.

“What do people do to obtain food?” she asked, feeling miserable.

“They work,” Seth said simply. “Working provides money that you can spend however you want. Do you have money in your tribe?” he asked, clearly curious.

Arista nodded. “Yes, but it doesn’t do too much. Usually we make something or harvest something and then exchange it for something else we need. Money is not a huge factor here- at home-” she scowled, correcting herself. “There.”

She could feel Seth nod behind her. “What did you do?” he asked, touching a nerve in Arista.

“I was a hunter,” she said, longing to finger her bow.

“But you’re an elf,” Seth pointed out, confused. “You don’t eat meat do you?”

Arista shook her head. “No, but I hunt for the other woman’s food and for the leather and bones. We use more than just the meat in the tribe.”

Seth nodded again, understanding. “I would suggest hunting then. It’s a fairly common occupation and you won’t have to stay in one place; you can move wherever you want.”

Arista brightened, liking this idea. “I know how to live on my own,” she clarified. “All I need is…” she trailed off.

“What?” Seth asked, and Arista closed her eyes in shame.

“A tent, a cabin, some sort of shelter,” she explained, “cloths, supplies…”

Seth laughed. “You’ll work it up, of that I have no doubt. Don’t worry too much, you’ll find your way.”

She was still very confused though. “But what about-” she glared without looking at anything. “What about… males?” she asked, blushing furiously.

Seth coughed awkwardly. “Um, well,” he did not sound so sure of anything anymore, and Arista found herself panicking a moment. “I think we should find someone else to explain that to you…” he said, clearly trying to worm out of the situation.

“Slacker,” she whispered, but would not relent the confusion in her mind. “Why did the women back home say men are evil and worthless? I do not understand!” she exclaimed, clutching her head.

Seth coughed and stated “There are some men who are only interested in… debaucheries from women. I can understand to a degree why some women would feel threatened. But the way Amazon’s treat men is going overboard.”

“What is ‘debaucheries’?” she asked, feeling baffled. “I take it that these things are bad?”

Seth made a strange cough and laugh combo. “Not always.”

And that was it.

She scowled. “I’m still confused…”

_________________________________________________________________

 

 

Arista’s eyes were wide when they reached the town. So many people, such large buildings! The noise, the smells! She was overwhelmed with the raw magnitude of what was going on around her.

Everything was so familiar yet so alien. The roads for instance; she knew what roads were, but never had she seen roads of stone that wove so intricately through the village. And the buildings! Her village was comprised of three permanent buildings (one for the medic, one for ambassadors from other villages and one for the village council of elders). But this entire village was comprised of full and large buildings, some with multiple levels. She was in awe with the inventions, utter awe.

Seth laughed at her a few times when she nearly fell off the horse because she was too busy turning around to try and absorb as many sights as she could.

But the sun was beginning to rise and she was worried for Seth. His vampirism would cause his skin to burn soon… But he did not seem to mind this hour’s light, and proceeded to guide Ereba through the town, searching for an inn. To be honest, it surprised Arista, the slow casual saunter in the light of the rising sun.

When Arista smelled the various cooked foods around her, her stomach growled, reminding her that she had not eaten all night, or most of the previous day either. She wanted to ask if she could try one of the small bread circles that smelled of apples, but refrained, knowing that this is what Seth meant when he said things cost money, and she had none.

She reached for her pack still slung over her shoulder and pulled out one of her own golden apples, taking a bite as she continued to look around the town.

Seth started talking. “There’s an inn there,” Seth said, pointing to a sign that read The Hearth’s Cup, and was a much larger building than the others. It was nearly four levels nigh, judging only by the windows, and was longer that the surrounding buildings as well.

“Are all inns as large as that?” Arista asked, hoping to learn how the world working as fast as she could

Seth said “No, and not all large buildings are inns either. Taverns, hospitals and mansions are often very large, as are brothels.” Seth was silent a moment in thought. “Brothels you need to watch out for.”

Arista nodded. “How do I know the difference?” she asked, worried.

“The name of the institution will sometimes let you know,” Seth explained. “Anything with a ‘hearth’ in the name usually means inn, while things with liquid or cups often mean tavern. But not all places have names like that; usually you just have to ask around.”

Arista half groaned and half sighed in frustration. “Fantastic,” she mumbled, dejected.

Seth stopped in front of the inn and hopped off the horse, motioning for Arista to do the same.

He handed her the reigns and told her, “Stay here and watch Ereba. I’ll try to book a pair of rooms for the day.” Arista nodded, tired, and clutched onto the reigns with fervor.

Seth entered the inn, and Arista took the moment to look around with new, but tired, girth. Both men and women walked the streets, something that greatly confused Arista. She would have to question Seth later on how this worked. She especially needed help understanding why some men were walking arm in arm with a woman. Arista was beyond lost.

Seth emerged from the inn and nodded at Arista. “Come on,” was his only statement.

Arista followed him through a passageway between a pair of buildings, and they found a small stable behind the inn, housing several horses.

“Most inns have a stable to hold the horses,” Seth explained. “Another good thing to watch out for.” But Arista noticed that Seth looked troubled, and was so eager to question him. But she refrained, knowing that it would not be a good idea to irritate her guide.

“I’ll be leaving upon the nightfall,” Seth told her. “I’ll try to give you as much information as I can until then.”

Arista nodded, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Seth had already told her that he had his own quest to do. She was on her own soon, and she was worried all over again.

Following Seth back into the inn, her eyes widened all over again at the sight of the candles, the myriad of tables, people sitting, eating drinking, casual conversation flowing freely. It was amazing, the light casting shadows all over the room, the large fireplace in the back of the room crackling and providing warmth. Several woman were running around the room serving food to the various people sitting in the rooms. She was surprised to see a woman and a man coddling a child in the back corner, as if it were their own… their own. Arista was beyond confused.

She followed Seth up a flight of stairs that led to a walkway lining the hall bellow them. There were doors along the walls, with numbers in shining metal lettering in the center of each door.

“We have 221 and 222,” Seth said, eyes scanning for the doors.

Arista nodded, stifling a yawn. The sun was reflecting through the windows, growing brighter by the second. Sun illuminated the floor below, and Arista could swear she saw Seth flinch.

She found their rooms after Seth walked past them, clearly distracted. “Um, Seth,” she said, looking at the door numbers. “You okay? You passed the rooms.”

When he stiffened and turned, Arista could swear that his face was falling. He was exhausted, she realized, feeling guilty. He probably would have rested before now had he not been caring for her.

Seth tossed her a small metal object and nodded towards room 221. “Go on in and sleep for the day. I’ll see you at sundown,” he yawned and inserted the tool into a small hole, a contraption that Arista had never seen before, and turned. There was a clicking of metal from behind the door, and it opened smoothly, Seth waving goodnight before he entered the room, shutting it behind him.

Arista stared at the hole and tried to stuff the circular side of the tool into the hole, but it was too big. Scowling, she flipped it to the jagged and twisted side, smiling in satisfaction as it entered the whole. She turned it, and the door opened just as Seth’s had. She walked in and noted that there was very little light.

Sighing, she held up her hand and summoned a small ball of fire, illuminating the room. She stared, the fire flickering in her surprise. There was a large, cushioned apparatus in the center of the room that resembled a sleeping cot, but thicker and suspended in the air by a wooden frame. On either side was what looked like a table, but it was taller than what she had seen in her village. Several candles sat in metal cups held to the walls, wax rivulets showing the trails of past burns.

Arista made move to light one of several, then moved to the tabled near the cot-thing, removing her belt and its many pouches, sliding off her bag, bow and quiver, laying them in a small heap on the table. She then started at the cot thing in doubt, fearing that it would collapse under her weight when she lay on it.

Cautiously, she sat down in the bed, legs hanging over the side. Her buttocks sank into soft cloth, and all the tension left her body. She flopped backwards onto the cot, loving that her whole body felt cocooned in the blankets, soft and more comfortable than she had been in her life. She shimmied backwards on the contraption, her head meeting a pillow at the head of the cot. It too sank comfortably, and she closed her eyes in comfort, too tired to even pull the top blankets over her. She sent a quick wisp with her blessing, blowing out the small candle flame, and emerging the room in darkness. A split second later, she fell into a deep, soft sleep.

 

4: A Chance Meeting

Arista stood in the inn stable, saying her goodbyes to Ereba. Seth was packing his sacks onto the saddle.

They had spoken upon her rising at sundown, after sleeping for many, many hours. Seth had told her about male and female relations in the real world, and how marriages worked, and what coupling was and did. Arista’s brain was still raw from the information and saw people differently. She realized what the lessons most woman in the village learned at fourteen entailed what Seth had told her earlier. A part of her was glad she had never known, but the other part wished that she could have had something to lessen the blow.

She sighed as Seth looked at her, nodding as he finished his preparations. “I wish you luck,” he told her, holding his hand out.

Arista reached out and grasped Seth’s forearm. She nodded and he did the same, looking each other in the eye. “Go well,” Arista said, unsure of what else to say.

With a final long look, Seth mounted Ereba and kicked the horse forward, Seth leaving the stable and out into the city.

Arista watched him leave with a sad smile. She would never forget him, or his help.

With a long sigh, Arista tossed the small pouch of coins he gave her into the air and caught it, the money chinking softly. She tweaked the bow around her back and walked out into the night, watching the people and searching for a tavern. She needed work, and if Seth’s advice was anything to go off of, that was the central hub for freelance work.

It took several hours, but she did find a building that was smaller than the inn, but not small either. The sign read The Green Cauldron. A drinking item, or brewing, Arista corrected herself.

She entered the building through the swinging door, unsurprised to see that the tavern was much like the first floor of the inn that she had stayed at. Long tables were lain out in various locations around the inn, people talking and bustling all over. She cringed her nose at the smell of cooking meat, and searched for someone who looked as if they worked at the inn.

She found a woman couriering plates of food around the tavern, and Arista approached. Her hair was black as night and her eyes a deep sea green. She kind of reminded Arista of a nicer Seth, but in a girl form. When Arista got closer, she saw that the woman’s clothing was different than many of the other servers. She worse a short, black skirt that looked like it had been torn at several times, revealing her legs that many of the men could not take their eyes off. She wore no shoes, and her shirt was ragged, but deliberately so. Her shoulders were likewise revealed as he legs, showing a slightly green expanse of skin. Mermaid, Arista identified, noting the smell of salt water and angelica root.

Arista followed the woman as she approached the back kitchen and called, unsure, “Excuse me?”

The woman stopped and turned, looking at Arista with a pair of curious eyes. “What can I do for you?” Confusion etched her voice and she looked Arista up and down.

Arista swallowed nervously. “I’m looking for work for a huntress. Do you know if this tavern accepts fresh game?”

The waitress pursed her lips in thought. “No. We only purchase from the butcher,” she pointed to the left. “There are a few butcher shops along the edge of the town, and a couple leather workers nearby. Most of them work with freelance hunters.”

Arista nodded and thanked the woman, before turning to leave.

Then a laugh in the room made her blood run cold. Her eyes widened and her ears toned into the conversation. She recognized that voice, she would never forget that voice.

Bristling in rage Arista picoted on one heal and stalked through the tables and the crowd to find a blonde haired, blue eyed man sitting at a table, surrounded by laughing, scantily dressed women.

She lifted a clenched fist and swung, her knuckled meeting Raiden’s face with a loud thwak! The male fell backwards a bit, but did not fall out of his chair.

A few of the woman gasped and backed away, but many of the others giggled as if her rage was some sort of comical relief.

Raiden rubbed his slack jaw, and raised confused eyes up to meet hers. Then the blue eyes flickered red, surprising Arista for a moment but she did not waver. Raiden’s eyes widened and he stated at her in shock.

“Arista?” he asked, disbelief tinging his voice.

Another male that Arista had not before noticed chuckled. “You actually managed to remember her name? That’s a first.”

Raiden’s glare shut the snickering man up quickly. The he turned back to Arista, opening his mouth to comment.

But Arista was fuming, and she grabbed Raiden’s shirt by the collar and dragged him over the table, calling upon her Amazon training for strength. Plates of food clashed against Raiden’s body as it lurched over the table.

“Hey!” Raiden said, trying to stand once he cleared the table, but continued to be dragged by the angry Amazon woman out of the tavern and into the city. Raiden stopped struggling, and instead directed Arista by grabbing her wrist and pulling her into an alley. Arista tried to pull her arm free, but Raiden was relentless. It was not until they were in a secluded alley behind the tavern that he grasped her by the shoulders and looked into Arista’s eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her, eyes trained into hers. “Arista, what the hell are you doing outside of your village?”

Arista smacked his hands away, tears gathering in her eyes. “Thanks a lot!” she screamed at him, grief clogging her voice. When she had been with Seth, his calm had tamed her despair and made it easier to deal with. But now, looking at the reason she was in this predicament, all the anguish over the last day that had been building inside of her tumbled out.

She lifted another fist and moved to hit Raiden again, thumping it against his chest weakly. A sob broke from her voice and tears fell from her eyes.

Raiden bent down to look in her watery eyes. “Arista, what’s wrong, what did I do? I haven’t done any-”

She thumped him again, more force behind this one. “Yes, you did!” she cried, “and that you have no idea the harm you’ve done is even worse!”

Raiden’s eyes narrowed in thought. Arista noticed that he was not engaging in the charming, charismatic conversation he had used in the archery range. Instead, he was trying to calm her, and that weakened Arista even more.

“I’ve been banished!” Arista cried, pulling her hands up to her face to cover her eyes, tears worming in-between her fingers and continuing to fall down her face. She pulled her arms in, trying to make herself as small as possible. “They kicked me out,” she mumbled into her hands, unsure whether or not Raiden could understand what she was saying. “I did not kill a man who I encountered. I spoke to you, met you in honor.” A cry escaped her throat. Even now, before him, with her mistakes crashing down around her, she still could not bring herself to kill the man who had caused her so much grief. Why?!? She thought to herself.

When Raiden’s arms folded around her, Arista flinched and held stiff, refusing to remove her hands from her face. She was shocked and her tears froze in her eyes. He said nothing, and that confused Arista even more.

Slowly, she relaxed in his arms and his warmth caused her emotions to swell large and raw. She started sobbing all over again, wrapping her arms around Raiden in utter despair, feeling more alone and raw as ever before. She clung to him as a lifeline, proof that her sins were real, that this nightmare of isolation and utter abandonment was the reality she had to face. She took to comfort in Raiden’s embrace, and every second drove the knife in her heart ever deeper.

Then a loud crash sounded, caused Arista to jump back in shock. Her arms reached for her bow and quiver, but stopped when she saw Seth standing at the end of the alley, a black sword in his hand, rage darkening his face. Ereba was nowhere to be found, but the heaving of Seth’s breath told her that he had run a distance to find them.

“Back off, Arista,” Seth ordered, stepping forward. A large stack of fruit boxes had tumbled into the alley at Seth’s arrival. He stepped over a cluster of apples on the ground, raising his sword.

“Phobos,” Raiden scowled, reaching for his own sword. Arista backed away, eyes darting between the two. Raiden drew a titanium sword, cackling with lighting.

Seth’s own blade erupted in blue and black flames, and he rose it in the air, swinging down low, launching a trail of flames like a whip at Raiden. It barely whipped past Arista, a few scant inches of space before clashing with Raiden’s own risen blade.

When the flames calmed and Arista could see through her widened eyes, Seth was closer to Raiden, their swords straining against each other. Thick odor swelled in the air, embers burning off the gas developing in the air. The flames were a dark blue and black mix of colors, classing with the cyan and yellow lightning that sparked in various locations around the struggling pair.

Raiden backed off and punched Seth in the stomach, his arm lurching underneath Seth’s own blade. The vampire curled back and shot backwards down the alley, crashing into a building across the road, electric discharge marking the path of trajectory.

When Arista looked into Raiden’s face, she saw that his once blue eyes had turned red, inky blackness creeping into his eyes, staining them dark. Wings unfurled from his back, dark grey and menacing. Arista’s own eyes widened as her first conversation with Seth came to the forefront of her mind.

Was he a hybrid? With red eyes?

Arista’s own eyes widened in shock, and she darted her eyes to Seth who was standing from a small pile of rubble against the building. His hand still clutched his sword as he rose, and he glared angrily at Raiden, who was looking at Arista calculatingly. He looked as if he wanted to question her, but said nothing, turning slowly bad to a slowly approaching Seth.

When Raiden looked at Seth, the vampire sped up and sung his sword again, a red aura of executioner energy surrounding Seth’s sword where the fire had faded. When he met Raiden’s sword, the loud clang echoed loudly in the city. Raiden had to back up as he blocked Seth’s blade, tacking a step backwards.

Arista watched in stunned silence as the two battled in the narrow alley, striking at each other, blocking a blow, moving so fast it was hard to imagine that either had taken only minimal damage each. The punch was the blow Raiden had managed to land, and all Seth had done to the hybrid was cut his face just below the cheek bone. It was as if each warrior knew the other’s next move before they made it and knew what to counter. But at the same time, the other knew that he would counter and went for a different move, circling in a viscous cycle.

They had fought many times before, Arista realized suddenly, but neither seemed eager to repeat the experience. Both moved for the kill, only to be denied the purpose of the duel.

Seth had been cornered into the wall of the building, slightly to the right of Raiden who was pushing the vampire back. Seth bent backwards at the hips and kneed, the force sliding Seth forwards in the dirt and under Raiden’s arm. He spun as he rose, striking at Raiden’s back.

Raiden turned quickly, but too late. Seth’s dark black blade lodged into Raiden’s torso, knocking Raiden back with the swing. Blood dripped down Seth’s blade and Raiden held his own with only one hand, the other clutching his side.

Arista saw as Seth moved forward, about to strike at Raiden again. Raiden, too, rose his blade, about to thrust it forward to strike at Seth.

“Stop!” Arista screamed, lunging forward and pulling on Seth’s sword arm. Seth cast her a glance out of the corner of his eye, but shrugged her off.

“Arista, get back,” Raiden warned her, glaring at Seth. “He won’t back down. Not ever.”

Arista’s eyes flickered back and forth between the two men, torn. Had this been a fight in her tribe, she would simply shoot the instigator, but she wasn’t in her village any more, and could not bear to strike either.

Seth blade once again caught fire, Raiden simultaneously looking to the sky and summoning a large cluster of lightning bolts.

Arista launched her own blessing as a wall in-between the males, the orange and gold flames a start contrast of Seth dark flames. The gold flames absorbed Seth’s strike, the lighting shooting into the wall and not beyond it. The assault on her magic caused a sharp pain in Arista’s heart, causing her to clutch her chest and gasp in pain. She coughed, the coppery taste of blood in her mouth. Both men had stopped fighting to look at her, shocked.

She dropped the wall and at the same time fell to her knees, continuing to cough, hand to her mouth. When she pulled it back, a few red droplets decorated her dirty palm.

“Arista!” Raiden exclaimed, stepping forward to examine her bruising chest. Seth stayed behind him, watching Arista with concerned, socked eyes.

“Stop it,” she growled, swatting Raiden’s hand away. Her face was slightly crusty from dried tears, her whole body felt battered and raw. She coughed again and tried to stand, grudgingly accepting Raiden’s hand to help pull her up.

She glared at both men, trying to stand firm though she felt like lying down in the “bed” as Seth had called it and sleep for a year. “What is going on,” she insisted, her voice raw. She was so confused. Why was Seth hunting Raiden, what did Raiden do? What was going on?

Raiden rolled his eyes, but stepped forward to steady a swaying Arista. “Beats the hell out of me,” Raiden muttered, glaring at the vampire. “He’s been chasing me around the continent for the last few years. Believe me, this isn’t the worst fight we’ve had.”

Seth glared at Raiden and moved to strike, but hesitated, glancing at Arista standing so close to the hybrid. Arista glared at him expectantly, but no explanation rose from the vampire’s lips.

“He won’t answer you,” Raiden advised. “I’ve asked him a dozen or so times.”

“He got you kicked out of your village, Arista,” Seth defended calmly. “He was there for the sole purpose of slaking his lust. Do you truly believe you are the only woman he had pined for?”

That caused Arista to stiffen and back away from Raiden’s touch, blushing fervently. Of course! She had forgotten about that, had forgotten Seth’s lessons earlier that very night regarding the passions of a man or woman.

“So he bedded someone dear to you,” Arista concluded, mouth tripping at the awkward words. “If that a death sentence?”

Seth glowered at Raiden who tried to step closer to Arista. “Not alone no. He’s a monster, Arista. Not trust worthy, not worth leaving alive.”

Raiden scoffed. “Oh, and you are?” He sounded both nonchalant and angry at the same time, but did not deny the accusations Seth spat at him, a fact that Arista took in with growing sorrow.

“I’m only doing my duty,” Seth stated, looking more at the elf this time than the hybrid. “I can’t tell you why,” Seth explained solemnly, eyes begging her to step away, “but I cannot stop until he is dead.”

Arista scowled at him and Raiden sighed as if completely resigned. “Fine, whatever. Keep tracking me down, I’ll keep running. One of us will die eventually.”

Seth’s lip twitched in irritation, and Raiden continued. “And besides, I’ll die eventually, why can’t I just die a natural death?”

Seth scowled and growled “By then it might be too late.”

Raiden threw his hands in the hair. “What’s to damn late?” he said.

Seth remained silent, and his cold glare made Arista shiver in fear.

But she remembered his kindness. He had revealed the world to her, shown her a path she never would have found on her own, and illuminated it so that she could see what lie before her. That person could not be gone, could not have been a façade.

“Seth,” she said softly, stepping forward, “I won’t let you kill him; not for nothing.”

Raiden scoffed and muttered “So you would let him if he gave you a good reason?” But he did not move away from her, and did not flinch under Arista’s turned and chastising gaze.

A thought struck her. “Seth,” she said slowly, turning back to look at the vampire. “You said you were doing your duty. Duty to whom?”

Seth gazed at her evenly. “The world. My world,” he said, eyes softening at the memory.

Arista noticed the change in his voice. “And what did this world tell you was the reason to kill Raiden?”

She felt Raiden’s aura stiffening around her, the lightning which had been churning before going stale. His interest had been piqued. Rightly so, Arista thought. She was playing with Hell fire trying to argue with Seth. The power he had shown was immense, and according to Raiden, that had not been all.

Seth’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “She said that Eyrie, and all those following in his bloodline, would bring the apocalypse.”