Chapter Two
Arias, Silas, Melina, and two men left early that morning. It was bitter cold as a result of the night’s storm, and a thick layer of snow covered the ground. Even so, the group traveled into the forest on horseback, scouting for the ideal site for a camp. Yet, Arias wanted to be alone. She had to be alone. She had much to contemplate, and much more to grieve for. She was taking her parents’ places on the throne, and she had not really been given much of a choice…
Letting Liaria, her palomino mare, fall behind, Arias guided her steed on a path to the left; she touched branches as she passed, muttering a spell as she went. They would serve as guides back to the beach.
Traveling at her own pace now, Arias could finally see the land for what it was. Beneath the shadows and beyond the dense forests, beauty was abundant. Pines, tamaracks, and cedars were soon spacious and sporting enormous trunks. Moss, vines, and lady slippers gave the unending green faint splashes of color. Icy rocks and frozen creeks only defined the rolling hills more.
Even in the winter, birds were everywhere. Jays, cardinals, blue birds, and robins flitted through the lower levels, as eagles and hawks soared high overhead. Owls were nesting in the hollow trees, hiding from the rising sun.
To think that Melina is frightened of this place… Arias chuckled to herself. It is a wonderland here!
As if to support that idea, the trees gave way to a vast, snow covered meadow. Deer tempted the open space, but, at the sight of the horse and rider, they darted. Snow flew in flurries from their fleeing hooves.
But, was it the horse? Was it Arias? Probably not. There, in the distance, was that power again. It was a foreboding feeling, but it also beckoned to her, calling her closer. The magic emanating from it was unbelievable and intimidating, but it made her curious. What could possibly be so powerful? Certainly not another elf.
Arias guided Liaria forward, across the meadow. From the heart of it, she could see a cliff rising in the distance. Granite glistened from the rays of the sun, and the view was only intensified by the nearly undetectable wall of ice running along the center. A frozen waterfall at least a hundred feet tall.
“Beautiful,” she whispered.
And the meadow was the perfect site for a camp. Not too far from the shore, somewhat hidden, and near water. She dismounted from her horse, and her leather boots crunched loudly. Standing her full height of five and a half feet, snow easily reached her shins. But it wouldn’t stop her. She had to find a stationary, nearby object to cast the beacon spell upon. There was a boulder not far from her. Yet, as she drew closer to it, the hair on the back of her neck began to rise. The presence, that power, was getting stronger. With her heightened senses, a quality not uncommon in elves, she could pick up the sound of staggering footsteps, ragged breathing…she could smell blood.
Liaria nickered, following close behind Arias. The mare’s ears were tilted back. Unease, fright, alarm.
Arias moved her hand away from the boulder and shifted it. Her fingers brushed the hilt of a hidden blade, its sheath on her back and concealed by her hair. The sounds grew louder and more distinct, closer. Whoever was coming was coming directly at her…
She let her mind go. She brushed the consciences of various, fleeing animals, and there was fear. What could make animals evacuate so quickly and in such mass? Before she could infiltrate the mind of the threat, a movement caught her eye. Someone, who or whatever had been approaching, was there.
A man staggered from the brush, right leg favored as he left the safety of the trees. From across the fifty of so paces that separated them, Arias could see he was wounded, and badly. A tourniquet had been tied around his right thigh, above a streaming blood flow, and his left arm hung useless at his side. Blood covered his shoulder and side, and even trickled from his temple and mouth. With a gasp of shock, she met the man’s gaze as a voice entered her mind. A soft tenor.
Help me, he spoke in the common tongue.
Even as the thought registered in her mind, he swayed dangerously, moaning as he doubled over. Despite her fears, Arias approached him, extending a hand to steady him. His silvery-blue eyes fastened with hers, and for a moment they seemed to lose focus, change…he clamped them shut and dropped to one knee before she could read anything.
“Sir?” she tried in Common, moving closer.
He looked up briefly, and Arias thought she heard him growl. Again, pain silenced him, making him tense.
She knelt beside him, ignoring all protestations in her mind and heart. He may have been dangerous, but he needed help. He needed her.
“Listen,” she commanded with a gentle tone. “I will not hurt you. I can help you. Understand?”
He met her gaze for a moment, and there was that voice in her mind again. Just help me. He closed his eyes then, and didn’t look up.
He’s weak, Arias decided as she ran her hands along his features, feeling for wounds. Blood was everywhere, but she knew it couldn’t be from the occasional cuts she had found. It had to be more…something severe. He flinched, biting back a yelp as her fingers closed around the remnant of a shaft. The splintered, broken wood pricked her fingers, but she knew her pain was nothing compared to his. She found two more arrows, broken off to leave only about two inches of the wood exposed; one had pierced his right thigh, one to his left side, and the last to his left shoulder, very near to his heart.
He was panting by then. He was pale from the blood loss, and he was slipping. Arias could see it in his eyes; he was near losing his life.
“Hang on,” she closed her hand around his, inconspicuously pushing her magic into him. “You’ll be fine. I promise, you’ll be okay. Just hang on.”
Even as he collapsed, she knew she had saved him. She had given him strength.
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