Sharp Flowers

Part 3

Before the sun wakes and the birds sing, I wake in the middle of the night. I snap upright into smoke. Blinded, my eyes tear up. Out of breath and confused, I roll out of bed. Dry heat wafts through the house. Fire, that's it, the house is on fire!

"Mother!" I call out, "Ma-," My throat burns like it's been coated in dry, hot ashes. Where is my family? What was once familiar is now a terrifying death trap. Stumbling left and right, something catches me.

"Raven!" people are calling for me. Shouting on the other side of the house urges me to my feet, but my legs feel so heavy. How could this have happened so fast! "Raven," my father calls. My father snatches me up in a blur and runs, where, anywhere. We burst through the hallway, our feet pounding into the wood floors. Blades clash somewhere else in the house. A fully armored figure barrels into the hall. Letting me go, my father shoves me forward.

"Father!" I cry out. Father launches into a charge, slashing at the air with two sets of swords. Angling the blade, pivoting one foot back, and blocks the blow with his own sword. I wince with each swipe, my stomach tightening like I might vomit.

"Raven," my mother grabs my shoulder, sending a terrible fright across my chest. She coughs through the smoke. "Stay back. There are too many," Tanya orders before rushing forward. She darts in like a speeding arrow, her eyes focused and her blade aimed determinedly. Tanya leaps forward. Down the hallway, knives soar. My mother stumbles.

"Tayna!" my father roars somewhere in the mix of my screaming. Tears burst forward. I scramble after her.

"Raven no-," she yells, choking and gasping. A bloody blade stands embedded in her chest. Her hands slap me, pushing me away. Even breathless, she's batting me away. Father grunts with the strain of keeping the brute before him at bay, his sword quivering; he takes one step forward.

"Spirit of fire, hear-," my father begins.

"Father!" I call out for him. A massive gash across his chest gushes red. Everything spills forth, hanging there. I cry and scream out in his agony. My breaths come in hard and fast. Their eyes turn to me, focused. It's fight or flight, and flight it is. I slam the main room doors shut and block it with the end table. They pound at it, and it shudders forward. This isn't happening. Smoke burns my lungs. The burning is coming closer; my time is running out. There are the family jewelry and sword, but besides that, all I have left here is myself.

"Come with me if you want to live," a voice offers. Clutching the sword, I Whirl around. A pair of young blue eyes gaze at me, "Let me take you away from this," Ryder offers.

"Have you gone mad? My home -my family-," I blurt out, tears swelling. "You did this. You did all of this!" I scream at him.

"This is my will, and it shall be seen through," Ryder declares, stepping towards me, but I move back. He smiles at me, an adoring look in his gaze with the fire burning behind him.

"Leave me alone. Get away from me!" I plead, waving my arms at him. "What do you want from me?"

"You know exactly what I want," Ryder says, biting his bottom lip. "No one is coming to your rescue. You are mine," Ryder states. I shake my head, backing up into the yard with him coming closer. Ryder is patient and calm, sure of his own victory. Meanwhile, my home is falling into ruins and, like myself, with no hope. What if I run? There is nowhere for me to run to, yet the idea appeals to me more than giving in. Energy floods my muscle. Ryder sees it, eyes widening. He shakes his head. "Don't," he pleads, worry flooding his features. Too late to change my mind. I flee for the tree line. My home behind me, life and comfort going up in smoke, all I've known is turning to ashes. Tears burn in my dry eyes. Oh, Peter, don't hate me for being a coward! Arrows fly by. I stop behind a tree, praying. I dare to peer out. She's over there, the one that took out my mother. This short little woman stalking the woods like I'm her prey keeps low. I don't want to die. Peter... Unless I can get close to her, she'll shoot me down first. I'm scared; how could this have happened so fast?

"Spirit, um- Spirit... spirit guardian of the Wrenwood's. Hear my cry," I murmur, but there's nothing. No fox spirit is coming to my aid. "Mother, help me, someone," I whisper.

"There you are," there's another masked man before me—my head pulses with pain. The world blurs. I'm dizzy and sick, "Trying to call spirits without a connection, you must really be desperate," he chuckles before he charges, sending me on the defense. I block the blade, but he's coming at me hard. He bolts forward, cutting after me, knicking me too close. Blood seeps into my nightgown. Too close! I gasp for air. He lunges in again, throwing us both down. A hard beating from his free hand knocks the wind out of me: my abdomen, my chest, and my head scream. Blood runs, dripping and flinging droplets. Every step, breath, and angle of the sword matters because if I'm wrong, I die. "Give up; this fight is not yours," the assailant warns me.

"This is my home!" I snap back, thrusting the sword. He jumps, veering aside when I swipe after him. The blade scratches his armor, but he knocks my sword to the ground. Mother, I'll be with you shortly, won't I? Others behind him are joining masked attackers to back him up. I spot the archer among them and recognize her as Hanna, one of Ryder's assassins. The crisp night breeze blows glowing specks of ashes around the trees. It stinks of burnt wood and oils.

"Who are you?" the attacker asks out of nowhere. No, he's staring at something behind me.

"All this bloodshed, it's getting on my nerves," a new voice complains. Why is this man, unarmed, strolling through the night forests all the way out here? "Not an ear has heeded my warning. Now, the blood of my representatives has been shed." the man goes on, walking ahead of me. Peer as I might, it's too dark to get a good look at his features. The most I can guess is this young man is unarmed.

"Get out of here. They'll kill you!" I call out. Looking back from under a dark hood, bright red eyes weep. Are those real tears? Does he weep for himself or both of us who will die? My hands fumble to unsheath my sword.

"Easy, my flower," the stranger coos, "I apologize for what you are about to see," he warns me.

"For what? What am I about to see?" I blurt out.

"And who are you?" the masked attacker demands, "You have a lot of nerve-."The young man disappears, and my chaser falls. This man that's come to my aid wields a sword. He lunges at the next one, lashing out with the sword before they have a chance to react. Hanna takes off running while their warriors swarm the lone man. Yet each time they come too close, he slays them. This is no man, no warrior, but a monster. I fall to my knees, dropping my sword, and watch him. No, that's not right either. Every move is but a fast, bloody blur. Alone and by himself, yet he has the strength of an army. No- I take that back. Two armies. I struggle in the dark to track his movements. No ordinary man could move this fast or land such strong blows to fall a warrior like this! Did a monster really come to my aid? Blood splatters about the area. One's stomach has been cut open, and its contents hang. My own stomach tenses like I might be sick because, for all I know, I could be next.

"It's a demon," someone realizes, and it makes my skin crawl. Realizes this, the mass flees the scene. Forget honor; I would run too if I were against a demon. But it chases them with its inhuman speed, grabbing and throwing the body to the ground. Crunching and cracking, they scream bloody murder. I wince and shrivel up in the dirt. Am I being protected, or am I to expect the worse? Heavy footfalls are coming in fast.

"Raven," Peter gasps. I blink at the form coming into focus.

"Peter!" I cry out, grabbing onto him. My stomach screams at me.

"Hang on, you're bleeding," Peter blurts out, muttering something under his breath. A fox sits down beside him. Its breath glows in the air, radiating heat. "You're bleeding," he notes.

"It doesn't hurt," I lie through clenched teeth.

"Can't risk an infection. This is going to hurt. Hang on, Raven," he murmurs. I nod, trusting my brother with my life. The fox spirit's hot breath hits my side.

"Gah-," I blubber, nails buried in my brother's arm and the dirt. I scream out into the night. Legs kicking, but Peter holds me still. Then it's gone. Any strength in my blood is gone. My body goes numb; next, the lights go out.