Prey

In which curiosity causes Naitlya some troubles.

       I raised myself slowly; my ears ready to pick up any hint of movement from the kin. My brown eyes were locked with his amber ones, though it made my blood run cold to keep that contact. I felt myself analyzing every part of this foreign creature, and I could see quite well how the kin had frightened the human men that had tried to confront him.

       Everything about him reeked of immortality. His sneering face was inhumanly pale and without flaw, and his long, dark hair looked too smooth to be real. That was topped with the obvious mark of the kin: a pair of long, sharp, silvery horns protruded from his head much like my ears from mine. Doubtlessly he was concealing a pair of leathery wings under the long cloak he was wearing. The fact that he was taller than any human man I had ever met did not help him seem any less frightening.

      Whatever camaraderie I should have felt toward this fellow immortal was outdone by the coldness I felt in my gut. Why did he keep staring at me? Could he not speak? No, it seemed like he was content with seeing how long I could last under his gaze. I was beginning to shake, and it made me want to be sick knowing how scared I was. I could not stand any more. I caught a single glimpse of a scaled tail as it flicked out from under the kin’s dark cloak.

       It was a few seconds that later I found myself charging through and over several bushes, and I had no idea where I was going. I nearly ran into a tree, but I spun away and kept running. My legs would not let me stop, and I would not look back to see if I was actually being chased.

      I turned, dashing out of the forest and finding myself among a patch of various squash. Not even pausing, I proceeded to jump over them, row after row, very thankful that my legs were made for running like this. However, due to many years of sedentary life, I was already exhausted. After a few moments of hopping around, I slowed to a walk. Then I stopped completely.

      I fell to the ground beside a rather large pumpkin, gasping and struggling to catch my breath. I looked back toward the forest, but saw no movement. What kind of coward was I, to run away like that? Throwing myself backward onto the cool dirt, I stared at the darkening sky, my heart still beating way too loud and my breathing wretched, like a dying human.

      Was it my duty to protect the people of this village? No, but they probably thought so. Yet, what could I have done? I could not properly fight anyone off with my abilities, let alone if that someone was a full-grown dragon-kin.

       My breathing quieted, and my heart had stopped trying to hammer its way out of my chest. Though it had just happened a few moments ago, the encounter with the dragon-kin did not seem real. I wondered what had made me so inexplicably afraid.

      “Coward.” The word whispered through my chapped lips was directed at no one in particular. It was not an insult: it was a fact. I was a coward, and not only on this day, but on many that had come before. I sat up, glaring determinedly at the setting sun. This time I would not be running away.

      I made my way back to the spot where I had encountered the dragon-kin. Even if I could not defend the village from him, I had decided that the least I could do was discover his intentions.

       It took quite a lot more time to return now that I was not running, but upon returning I found the kin had disappeared. However, he had left a distinct trail in the narrow dirt path with his tail and long, dragging cloak. I stood there staring at the marks for a long moment, gathering what small amount of courage was at my disposal, then set off into the forest after him.

      It was not tough work to keep an eye on the distinct marks in the dirt even as it grew darker. The path narrowed, then disappeared altogether, but the dragon-kin had left odd footprints and it was simple to follow the line of broken plants that had been left in his wake. Though my step was delicate in life-filled places such as this, the dragon-kin’s definitely was not. This was one time I was glad for others’ inelegance.

       Several times I was sure I had lost the trail, only to find the kin had backtracked or turned in a new direction for no obvious reason. Either he knew he was being followed, or he had gotten lost. Both of those options were not a good signs: the kin was looking for something in the woods. My curiosity burned. What on earth could be out here that was so important to that creature?

       The answer came to me as I found the trees suddenly thinning. I crouched low and found cover in the foliage. I continued to creep forward, my ears ready to pick up any sign of danger.

       What I saw made my eyes widen with fascination and a curious delight. Among the trees I could recognize remnants of stone walls that reflected the moonlight, now decrepit and covered with vines. Once-magnificent grey statues now lay in pieces across the forest floor. These sights alone would have awed me enough, though I could not believe what they surrounded.

       In the center of the ruins was a building that appeared of the same origin, but quite intact. It protruded from a great cliff that had been carved in the side of the mountain.

I nearly stepped out into the clearing, but caught myself at the sight of the dragon-kin, who was now standing before heavy-looking doors that adorned the front wall. He was doing no more and no less than standing and staring at the things as if he expected them to open on their own.

       I ducked behind a tree to avoid having to bear the eyes of that kin again, but when I peered around the tree to look at the magnificent structure, he had vanished! My skin went unpleasantly cold, and I found my eyes darting around the clearing.

       Where had he gone? The doors had not opened, I was sure of that, but unless I had imagined his presence in the first place the dragon-kin had definitely disappeared.

      I stood motionless for a moment, listening. The only sounds that could be heard were the leaves rustling overhead, my own ragged breathing, and the skittering of various night creatures. Only after a solid minute of listening did I dare step out toward the ruins again.

      As I neared them, I was truly in wonder of how spectacular they were. I had only ever read about such superb creations, and here I had lived this close to one for twenty-four years. Almost in a trance, I neared the doors that the dragon-kin had been standing before moments earlier. They were gigantic compared to me, and made of solid stone like the rest of the structures.

       A metal lock barred them shut – a detail I had missed from afar – and it looked unlike any lock I had ever seen before, as it had no opening for a key. Curious, I reached forward to touch it. However, as soon as my fingers brushed it in examination, it fell away from them. I stared at the metal lump on the ground, my hand still outstretched. That had never happened before.

       The heavy-looking doors then began to creep open of their own accord, and I found myself backing away, bewildered. Darkness was all I could see inside, barely penetrated by the starlight that lit the clearing. The gloom of night I could handle, but this pitch-blackness was something I had never liked. Though, as the gap widened I could see some sort of light further in. Unconsciously I moved back toward the entrance, trying desperately to discern shapes in the darkness, and find the source of that eerie glow.

      I did not get long to ponder this, however, before a large, strong hand clapped over my mouth and an arm clamped around my midsection, pinning my arms to my sides.

       “You are far too nosy for your own good, faun.” The dragon-kin’s voice sounded rough, like it had not been used in years. I realized too late that he blended easily with the darkness and had snuck up on me in my distraction. I mentally kicked myself.

       “Little girls should not follow strangers in the night.” His breath tickled my ears as he spoke, and I could feel my legs almost giving out from surprise and fear.

       He did not move to hurt me or kill me, to my astonishment, but after a moment he simply let go. Stunned, I turned to face him and immediately wished I had not. He glared down at me with those eyes that were bright, even in the darkness, and were even wilder at this proximity. His skin looked chillingly unnatural in the silver light of the moon. I felt familiar shivers of horror climb up my spine.

       “I am no child, dragon.” I did not appreciate the shake that had crept into my limbs. Though he had physically released me, I felt even more like I had been caught between huge claws. The dragon grunted slightly, his mouth widened into a smirk that showed off his sharp, white teeth.

       “You get points for guts, little one, but I would suggest you run home and never speak of what you have seen here.” His voice was more matter-of-fact than threatening. He turned away from me, and instantly the pressure that I felt under gaze was lifted. It made me feel much braver.

       “Naitlya,” I grunted resentfully. “My name is Naitlya Taimi. Not ‘little one’ or ‘faun’ or anything else you’d like to call me, and if you think I’d turn tail and run after what you just- Hey!”

       The dragon strode past me, into the structure and toward the chamber that contained the strange light. It seemed he decided to ignore me while I was in mid-sentence, which was thoroughly vexing. I half galloped to catch up to him. My fellow immortals could be so annoying.

       The dark tunnel did not seem so long once I had walked through it. The kin did not even pause as we entered a round chamber by a narrow walkway with pools on either side. Its structure reminded me of ancient shrines I had only read about.

       There was a small glass dome in the ceiling that was letting in the dim light of the moon, but that was not what created the weird glow I had seen from outside.

       Everywhere in this room were little floating sprites. I gasped quietly upon seeing them, mostly because I had read about these creatures also. Will-O-Wisps, I recalled as I stared at them, were manifestations of lost souls. They were white and not quite solid, with tiny pale faces among the smoke of their bodies. The glowing I had seen from outside was emanating from the wisps themselves.

       I was broken from my trance by the sound of the dragon-kin beating down a small stone door that lay across the room. Making noises that protested this foul treatment of old architecture, by the time I had run over to stop him the door had been reduced to a pile of rubble.

       “Why did you do that?” I asked, flabbergasted, but he continued to ignore me and went through the now empty archway. Looking back at the wisps one last time, I followed him. It was no good to leave yet. The dragon-kin would probably end up breaking something really valuable, I rationalized, and this time I would stop him. I still felt bad for that door.

      The next room was even larger than the last, and appeared to have been carved out of the mountain itself. For a moment I could not see anything beyond, and then a flash from my right nearly blinded me. I cursed.

       After the spots before my eyes dimmed, I could see the dragon-kin holding a lit torch and looking at me as if I had just grown a second head. Of course, dragon-kin had a natural association with fire just like I did with plant life. Lighting a torch without warning was probably something they did not think twice about.

       I continued to explore the chamber before finding that half of it seemed to have suffered the effects of a landslide. The floor was covered with rocks and dirt to the point that a large tree had grown in it. The tree was unlike any I had seen before: though it had obviously found enough water and soil to grow, it had no leaves and was completely white for lack of sunlight. I had never known anything to grow under such conditions. I was tempted to examine it further, but the dragon-kin was heading in the opposite direction with my only light source, and I was not willing to stand around in the dark.

       The dragon-kin now stood before the opening of a cave leading away from the main chamber. Though still not acknowledging my existence, he waited until I had caught up to just a few yards behind him before he continued forward.

       I had never seen a cave before, let alone been in one. Previously I would have thought that a place without sunlight would be disgustingly abhorrent to me, but I found myself fascinated as the torchlight glimmered off sculptures formed over thousands of years. I was distracted so much by the alien beauty around me that when the dragon stopped again, I very nearly ran into him.

       The cave opened up into a chamber here, and for a moment I thought the floor was made of a giant mirror. It was another minute before I realized it was just the stillest pool of water I had ever seen. The liquid was incredibly clear, and, as we approached, the first ripple that had disturbed its tranquility in many years traveled across the room.

       A group of annoyed bats twittered overhead, startling me. The dragon hardly even flinched as they flapped by his head. Instead, he moved to examine the smaller openings that led off this room and into the heart of the mountain and the island itself.

I stared into the pool while he did this, not quite sure why he was still letting me hang around. He did not seem that opposed to my presence, but neither did he encourage it. Maybe I was just not enough of a threat to warrant much attention. Unconsciously, I put my fingers in the water. It was cool and clear, so I cupped it in my hands and brought it to my mouth.

       It tasted horrible. As I coughed and rubbed my lips with the back of my sleeve, I could have sworn I heard the dragon-kin snicker. After a moment of sputtering, there was a tug on the hood of my coat and I fell backward. I glared at the kin and was about to voice my objection to such treatment when I saw what he was looking at. In the middle of the pool, something had begun to glow from under the water. A quiet rumbling sound reached my ears and I quickly scrambled to my feet. The kin reached under his cloak and unsheathed a strange-looking black sword, holding it out toward the thing that produced the light. The rumbling grew louder, sending some pebbles skittering across the floor.

       Abruptly, the glowing thing broke the surface of the pool, sending a wave across it. Though I – and the kin as well – had obviously been expecting something far more sinister, the rumbling stopped as the pedestal that had just emerged halted about two feet out of the water. On top of the thin, white pillar was a sphere that was producing the odd glow.

       My view of the strange object was blocked as the dragon-kin’s heavy black cloak fell on top of me. I wrestled myself out of the material, and stared at his back as he began to wade into the water toward the pedestal.

       There had been no wings under the cloak as I had suspected, and the kin’s shirt was tailored like a human’s instead of having two slits in the back. While I had never met one of his kind before, I knew that this was an unusual quality. It was like seeing a faun without legs.

       I watched intently as he reached out to the glowing sphere, the water barely reaching his waist. When he touched the globe it burst, sending water everywhere. The glowing stopped, leaving a dull object behind on the stand, which the kin snatched up. As he turned back toward shore, I felt very embarrassed of what I had seen and looked away until he lifted the cloak out of my arms.

       It was then, when I dared look up at him again, I found his eyes locked with mine. His gaze told me one thing: he had let me see his weak point, and he did not show it lightly.

       Refastening the cloak, he dropped whatever he had obtained from the pool into his pocket. If I had not felt that he would kill me, I would have asked him what it was. I spent the time it took to leave the cave trying to figure out what caused a dragon-kin to lack wings. None of my solutions made much sense, but I was definitely not going to ask about that, either.

       We returned the largest chamber much quicker than we seemed to have left it, and I looked around uneasily. It struck me how very quiet it was, and I felt more afraid of the dark than before. I stayed close to the dragon and his torch, though I wanted nothing more at this point than to run away from him.

       Halfway across the room, I stopped, my ears perking up. I heard something, very faint, but it was not like anything I had heard before. I turned, looking about the room and seeing only the dim outline of the white tree. It sounded almost like the pillar when it emerged from the pool, but it was getting much louder much faster. The dragon-kin had noticed it, too, and had stopped about ten feet away from me.

       Suddenly, the ground heaved beneath me, sending me stumbling backwards. The dragon had assumed a wider stance to keep his balance as the ground continued to shake, now emitting a grinding, growling sound.

       “What’s going on?” I yelled over the noise. The dragon did not respond, but looked ahead as the floor moved – cracked – across the room. It felt like it would crumble beneath me at any moment.

The dragon-kin turned and retreated towards me. His face held no emotion, though my own, I could tell, was horror-stricken. In one swift movement, he grabbed me around the middle and hoisted me over his shoulder. It was an unpleasant position – to be in someone’s arms – running butt-first. I smacked his back with my fists.

       “What are you doing? Let me go, dragon!” I continued to pound on his back.

       “Levent,” he barked. “My name is Levent Itzallion. Not ‘dragon’ or anything else you’d like to call me.” I could almost tell he was grinning, throwing my words from earlier back at me like that. I would have protested more, were it not for what I had seen next. 

       “Oh ancient spirits,” I gasped. “Something’s coming up from the floor in there!” The floor we had just been standing on had collapsed completely, and I could see movement in the darkness. An abrupt burst of pressure from beneath the floor sent Levent and I tumbling into the water in the next room.

       I spluttered and wiped my eyes, kneeling in the shallow pool before he gripped the back of my coat and pulled me to my feet. I noticed that the wisps which had floated upon the air before had vanished.

Before I could manage my own balance, I had been flung over the dragon-kin’s shoulder again. This time I was a little too dazed to complain.

       As we traveled quickly out of the structure, I watched in horror at what was happening in our wake. Everything was shaking and making terrible noises, and I could tell that all the history and beauty that I had witnessed a few moments ago were gone. Really, the dragon-kin’s breaking of the stone door paled in comparison.

       Levent might have said something as we exited the building, but I could not hear him. A strange cry broke out from the inner room. He put me down somewhat gently, but I ended up landing neatly on my rump anyway. I got to my feet quickly, and ignored the indignity of the last few seconds.

       “What is it?” I yelled at him. The ground was not shaking out here, but the noise could still be heard. My voice was barely audible to myself. “What is that thing?”

       He simply stated, “It is here.” And indeed it was.

       The structure seemed to explode in front of us as the thing tore itself from it. The creature was positively gigantic!  It looked like a plant merged with a beast, all covered with green-brown hair except for viny projections from where its arms should have been. Its feet were clawed, and awkwardly held up its strangely shaped body. As my eyes traveled upward, I swallowed loudly. It had no head, but from the top of its form grew a tree that I recognized as the one I had seen inside. Below that, however, was something that did not fit with the rest of its wild appearance: a white, opalescent mask in the shape of a woman’s face was attached where a neck probably should have been.

       It shrieked loudly, as if testing out its voice, sending chills straight through me. Levent grasped me by the arm and pushed me back. I made a small squeak as I landed on my tail for the second time in as many minutes. I did not fancy being thrown around like a doll.

       “You should have run home, faunling,” the dragon said, his back to me. I snorted at the new nickname. “This old magic is dangerous.”

       “I can see that!” I growled. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to defend myself. I probably know more than you about how to-”

       “Stay back if you wish to live, little one.” Levent pulled two of his strange swords from beneath his cloak and lunged at the monster before I could tell him off. He jumped incredibly high, landing on top of the thing. Its vine-arms dove for him immediately, but he fended them off with quick, deft strokes. He then stabbed the creature’s furry shoulder, but no blood came from the wound.

       The monster screamed and pitched, knocking the dark-haired one off-balance long enough for some of its vine-arms to coil around him, holding fast. The vines that he had severed began to grow back in greater number. I yelled involuntarily.

       So much for the strength of dragons.

      Seeking into my pockets, my fingers brushed the two Sop-bombs. I stared at that almost glowing white mask, then lobbed them at the creature. One of the bombs hit it uselessly in the stomach, but the other flew true: straight into its humanoid face. It groaned and, as I had hoped, released Levent so that the vines could remove the sticky mess from its eyes. I would have to brag to Morrense later.

      Levent hit the ground roughly, audibly knocking the air from his lungs. The dragon grimaced slightly, but said nothing as he struggled to his feet, firmly grasped his blades, and lunged for the creature again. It swept wildly at him with its vines, forcing him to have to back away before running forward again. This was getting us nowhere.

      I turned my attention back to the beast, and noticed that four of its tentacles were hovering around its mask-like face: two frantically trying to remove the sticky sop, two crossed defensively in front of it.

“Oy! Dragon!” I yelled, but he did not respond. I repeated myself, and he made for the monster again, hacking off a few of its vines before being forced to retreat. I ground my teeth. He was ignoring me again, and doing useless things like slicing the stupid vines that kept regenerating. Swallowing my pride, I filled my lungs with air.

      “Levent!” I screamed. Finally, he turned, seeming slightly bewildered at the interruption. I ignored the unwelcome blood that rushed to my face. I would have to speak quickly and correctly. “Aim for its face! That must be its weakest point! See how it’s protecting it?”

      As if it understanding me, the creature half growled, half screamed, as it tried to wrap Levent in its grip again. It had removed most of the sop from the mask, but the vines around it seemed to have become stuck together because of it. He dodged, this time jumping limberly onto the thick vines, using them as a path to its face. His aim was flawless with a specific target, and he embedded a sword deep between the mask’s unseeing eyes.

      Another terrible cry tore from the creature’s throat, and it collapsed instantly, sending leaves and dust flying toward me. Levent jumped gracefully from the body, putting his blades back into their sheaths in midair.

      I ran up to the huge creature. It appeared to be dead, but before I could reach it, the body dissipated into small smoky, flits of light that disappeared into the dark sky. I stared, dumb. It was made of wisps?

      A sparkle from the ground caught my eye. Something small and golden lay on the ground where the creature had just fallen. Knowing that, had been there before, I would have noticed it, I pointed it out to the dragon-kin. Silently, he bent down and picked it up. A small golden chain dangled from his hand as he inspected it. He examined it a moment before he seemed to come to a conclusion.

      “Here,” he grunted, swinging the pendant in front of me. It was almost pear-shaped: two round containers of sparkling emerald liquid between gorgeous golden accents. “I have no use for jewelry.”

      “Like I do?” I mumbled, but took the pendant from him anyway. It was warm in my hand, as if it contained its own heat source. I rolled it between my fingers, captivated by the way it caught the starlight for a few minutes before I realized the dragon-kin was moving away from me.

      “Hey,” I said, trying to catch his attention. He paused for a moment as I caught up. I latched the pendant’s chain around my neck.

      “What exactly did you get in there?” I referred to the object from the pool, but he went back to ignoring me and headed into the trees toward the village. I followed him closely this time, trying unsuccessfully to get him talking again at odd intervals. His silence was most annoying, and made his motives more suspicious. He did not seem like a terrible individual, but his social skills needed some work. Whatever he had come here for, he was not going to share it with me.

It seemed a long time before the light from the village lamps was visible through the trees, and by that point I was thoroughly exhausted. The heaviness of my waterlogged clothing did not help matters. Eagerly, I rushed toward the light. I smiled. It was time for a good nap and some-

      “Come out here, immortal scum!” A man’s voice that I did not recognize reached my ears. It was probably one of the strangers that talked to Old Will, I reasoned, because I knew everyone else who lived here. He had managed to gather an entire mob of villagers, equipped with torches and sharp pitchforks. I mentally groaned. How cliché of him.

      The mob glared blindly into the forest. I laughed quietly. They had not actually seen us yet and had probably been yelling like that for the last three hours at any little noise, afraid to enter the forest – especially while it was dark. I would have to use their cowardice to my advantage. Facing an angry mob was not what I wanted to do at this hour.

      I tugged on Levent’s cloak. His face held no expression, but his eyes betrayed him as they turned to me. The wildness within them had dimmed. He was also worn out.

      I whispered to him, “If you don’t want to deal with these idiots, I’d recommend we go around the village. My house is southeast of here, and provided you don’t pull anything weird, you’re welcome to eat and rest there.”

      He said nothing, and simply turned east. A pang of panic shot through me as I realized how inviting the kin into my home would look later, but I quashed it. Whatever he had gained from the cave, I was pretty sure it did not involve hurting the villagers. At least, he did not seem to have any open hostility toward any of them. Or me, I added mentally, remembering how he had carried me out of the cave. As undignified as he was, at least he seemed to care about people.

      Traveling off the trail in this direction was unpleasant, and I frowned as small, barbed plants caught on my fur. Hopefully we would not have to return this way any time soon.

      Even I was quiet now, my head buzzing with worry. Though I knew that Levent was not as homicidal as his initial impression implied, the villagers were just narrow-minded enough to never see that. They had put up with me because I was basically harmless, but a fire-wielding dragon-kin swordsman was not going to pass as such.

      I sighed loudly, turning my face upward. What had I gotten myself into?

 

Reviews

[Philosophile. (Maddy)]

I also like Levent, and I wonder why he doesn't have wings. I also hope they'll have adventures together later on. It is exciting, and you handle the suspense well. Levent and Naitlya make a good duo.

[Kaye]

=D~ Ahhhh!
How incredible exciting! O_O I'm really liking Levent so far >_> He may be my favorite.
Post the rest! This is lovely! ^^