Hello everyone! I don't know exactly what I should rate this since it has violence near the end of the chapter. Sorry that it is somewhat long, but I hope you like it!
Chapter 5, Attack:
We walked in silence. The only sound was our feet stepping on branches and shrubs. My mind was preoccupied with the thought that my grandmother was still alive. I could rescue her, I had too. The only issue with that though, was the possibility of dying in the process. Every time I would try to escape this thought, somehow I would manage to come back to it. Besides me, Trenton was dealing with his own thoughts.
I looked up at the sky and realized that it was already late afternoon, the sun was declining from the peak of the sky. No matter how hard I tried to distract myself, the image of the wagon riding away from me with my grandmother in it wouldn’t leave, making me feel cold. I felt persistent on rescuing her, to save her from torture and possibly death. Trenton would disagree. He wouldn’t want me too, I was the only hope to save many people from the brutal King.
It was difficult for me to realize that the fates of many lives were up to me. If I succeeded, they would be spared. If I failed, they would be lost. I couldn’t only think about my life without thinking about the many others weighing down on me, which included Trenton’s. I couldn’t help but doubt myself. It seemed impractical for me with my small built and lack of body strength to defeat one who is much stronger than myself.
Trenton’s voice broke through my barrier of thoughts, “You are much like your father, or from what I have heard my father’s stories anyways.”
A little puzzled by his unusual statement, I murmured, “In what ways?”
“Your father had always cared for others, sometimes persistent at what he wanted to accomplish.” Trenton leaned against a tree, causing me to stop as well. He continued, “While I grew up, on our trips to the Elf Kingdom, my father would tell me fanatical tales of your father and what he had done. One was when he was just our age and he rescued small children who were trapped in a burning shack.” Trenton looked up, “My father and James were childhood friends, they grew up with one another. My, how many stories I have heard of them both.” Trenton gave a half-hearted chuckle.
My mouth curved up in a corner, giving a small smile. I could see my father, no older than sixteen, rushing through a burning entryway of a shack. The children’s screams leading him to their location and leading them out just as the structure collapsed behind him.
“I wish I had known him.” Trenton nearly whispered.
I choked out, “As have I.”
Trenton smiled up from his feet, making me feel odd.
A sharp sound whizzed by my head. I turned my direction of focus away from Trenton to where it hatched from. In the bushes, three men, all dirty and unkept, poked through the bushes. Grins showing loss of a few teeth, their arrows being directed at us. I stood frozen on the spot, a sitting target for them.
“Run.” Trenton shoved me aside, “Run!”
I stumbled back, foot catching a root and fell onto the ground. My feet scrabble to get up again. Trenton yanked me up and pushed me to start running. Another arrow whizzed by my head, hitting the tree ahead.
The men behind began running towards us. A sharp zing missed me. I was in the front, Trenton on my heels, almost as my block for passing arrows. The ground below me seemed almost a blur, my feet barely touching.
“They’re getting away!” A man bellowed. Arrows hit nearby trees.
My breathing stayed at a steady rate, my heart pumped in my ears. I turned my head to look behind me. The three of them had fallen back somewhat, but still in shooting range. Trenton was as well. From his serious look, Trenton urged me to keep running, to not wait for him. I turned back to face what was in front of me.
Almost as if I was struck by a sharp whip, a shooting pain hit my right shoulder. I screamed from the pain and stumbled to the ground, rolling in the brush and dirt. My hand instinctively reached to where the object hit me and found a long piece of wood sticking out of my shoulder. I grabbed hold of it, and yanked as hard as I could, the tip of the arrow slicing through more of my muscle and flesh. I screamed.
Blood oozed out, almost like the thick batter that my grandmother used to make pastries with. In my mouth, I could distinguish the rusty taste of my own blood. The men’s footsteps came closer, their whoops of triumph echoing over me. I turned my head to the side and saw Trenton detaching an arrow that was forced into a tree, holding it up like a sword, his only defense.
I kept my hand placed where my body fluids were draining, trying to hold it in. This is it, I thought. Slowly, the pain died down. My body loosened, and I was able to breath without coughing up my own blood. Under my fingertips, I felt my muscles begin weaving back together where the arrowhead pierced through. Next, my skin. What was left of my wound was the torn fabric of my overcoat and dress both stained from my blood.
My eyes grew large as I began to feel around my shoulder for any sign of the hit. Nothing. The men were now standing over me, faces showing their joyous triumph over me. Trenton ran into one, knocking him over, arrow inches away from piercing the man’s chest. As the other two men’s attention turned to Trenton, I began shying away into a defensive position. I picked up the arrow that wounded me into my right hand, nothing in my left.
Careful not to make any sudden movements that might have triggered any alarm, I stood up. Now they had Trenton’s face in the ground, arms folded onto his back so he couldn’t escape. They were mumbling into his ear something vile and treacherous. Seeing Trenton on the ground, nearing his possible death, I was no longer able to control myself, I had to kill to rescue a friend. With my hands shaking, I prepared to charge at them, cutting through their being, leaving them to die.
The one man who must have been the leader of the group saw me stand and motioned for the others to turn. Their greedy, joyous faces turned grim. One still had Trenton on the ground while the other two shot at me. Becoming the air around me, I deflected the arrows. The men’s faces grew frantic as they released more arrows of which I also deflected.
Next, the men tried an assault, using their swords as their weapons. The blades sliced through the air, trying to make contact with my skin, but to no prevail. Once one of the men came close enough to me, I lodged the arrow into his chest. The corpse fell to my feet in a heap of limbs, blood soaking into the earth.
The leader of them thought this as a moment of weakness for me as I focused on the corpse, for he lunged at me, howling in rage, his blade meant to hit my neck. Beneath me, I felt the water and Moved it to the surface in a second. I molded it into a flat blade. I twisted my body aside from the sword that was being thrust at me. I Moved the water at the sword and cut through the thick metal of the flat blade, splitting it in two.
After, I whipped my stream of water at the man who stood, dumbfounded at his sword handle, my speed to quick for him to comprehend. The steady stream of clear liquid snapped at the man’s side, instantly killing him. He went limp and fell next to his fallen comrade.
I turned to where Trenton was being held onto the ground by the heavy bulk of the last surviving man. His eyes were frightened as he slowly let go of Trenton. He backed up slowly, pleading for mercy. For a moment, I thought I would give him his mercy, but my mind wasn’t in control. The sharp gleam of water thrashed through the air, hitting the man’s back as he tried to run away. In a thump, he hit the ground.
I released my hold on the water and let it fall back into the ground. My breathing was coming out in small pants, sweat forming on my forehead and the back of my neck. A gentle hand grasped my shoulder and I turned, water already at hand. My eyes caught Trenton’s, and I relaxed, letting go of my weapon. My gaze drifted over the scene and noticed the spot of my blood that oozed into the soil, next to it, two corpses, nearly drained of their own fluids. Further away was the other, face down in the dirt. This whole mess was my doing, my fault. I felt sorry for the poor civilian who stumbled over this gruesome find.
“Are you okay?” Trenton moved his head over so that I had to look him in the eyes.
I looked down, body shaking as I coughed out, “I am fine.”
“We better leave before anyone reports this.” Trenton shooed me away, keeping my eyes from looking back at the mangled bodies that were behind us.
at some points I kinda though, well this seems a little cheesy, but I had to remind myself that it is fantasy lol. You're doing a lot better at making the story flow more cohesively so bravo! I found it very intriguing and liked reading it. There were somethings I wanted to change though, and you can see my suggestions in the matching font