TIMEWALKER [wlw]

t w o

- L -

The first thing I register as I come to is the stifling heat. My knees are pressed into hot granules of fine sand, and my skin is screaming in pain. Sweat has pooled around the straps of my backpack, soaking unbearable warmth into my skin. Noise filters through my ears, but it doesn't compute in my mind; screaming, tinny and lost amongst the pain, and the clashing of metal upon metal.

Stark, bright light filters through my eyelids. I try to force my eyes open, but they cry out in protest. The world is a mess of shadows and colour.

Gritting my teeth, I feel around me for something; anything, to tell me where I am.

My hands meet a shiny, almost plastic surface, and I withdraw my hand in shock. Tentatively, I stretch out again, tracing a path along the plastic until my skin touches fabric and then- skin? A thick liquid gathers in the fabric; despite the suffocating temperatures, it's cold to touch.

Involuntarily, my eyes snap open. As my eyes adjust, I register the man lying in front of me, his eyes wide but unseeing. I choke on the air in my throat, throwing myself backwards.

A piece of scarred leather smothers his body, hiding thin layers of linen that peek out from underneath. Shades of rotten red stain the white surface of the linen, spilling onto his skin. A sword is clutched in one of his hands, but his grip is loose, and the sword is severed in half.

I look past his body, tears springing into my eyes. Thousands of bodies lie out amidst collections of flattened trees, stretching as far as the eye can see. I catch movement; a man running past the piles of bodies, towards a mass of people.

It is then that I process the sounds rushing through my ears; whatever has happened to these men, it hasn't stopped yet.

Grunting echoes from behind me, and the crashing of metal-upon-metal grows louder. On instinct, I swing around. And then I am flat on my back, crushed by the weight of another soldier.

They jump back to their feet, not sparing me a glance, and slice through their enemy's neck.

My mouth drops open in shock.

With a sigh, they throw their sword into the sand, and turn to face me. Immediately, all thoughts fly from my brain.

The soft curve of her leather armour, similar to the dead man's, shimmers in the sun, following the shape of her body. A cloak is swung over one of her shoulders, providing some shade from the relentless sun.

Gold ringlets escape her helmet, trailing down onto her shoulders. Bright blue eyes capture mine, clear as a glacier. My gaze trails down her face, to the faint pink cupid's bow of her lips. A light red flush stains her cheeks, highlighting the sharp cut of her cheekbones.

"You have to be more fucking careful." I blink, taken aback. "You Timewalkers, you never know what you're doing." The woman in front of me swears under her breath, extending an arm to help me up. "You're lucky I found you before anybody else did."

I take her arm, my mind stumbling on what to say. "Um-"

She eyes me warily, before deciding to take pity on me, "My name's Helen. I saw your wings as you crashed through the trees."

"My...wings?" I frown, crinkling my eyebrows.

She closes her eyes, sighing deeply. "I hate the first-timers," her muttering distracts me, and I scrunch up my face.

"Where am I?" She laughs, dryly.

"Welcome to Troy, darling," she swings an arm out to display the miles of flat plains surrounding us. A few small copses of trees trail across the empty landscape. I follow the horizon into the distance, catching sight of the vague shape of a city with high walls.