Swords of Cinder

Chapter 4: Company of Darkness

Chapter 4: Company of Darkness

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The crashing water spraying a cool vapor into the air drowned out my footsteps as I raced along the gorge. My foot slid on the slippery gravel skittering rocks into hungry white waters below. I paused for a moment, taking in the reality of the situation. I could have died. The hissing waves lashed against the walls of the cliffside, dragging its watery claws against the pale stone. Loud shouts in the distance pierced through the noisy veil of the river, and I continued on.

I was silently thanking Gaël right now. I now realized that the point of the excruciating run he had assigned was not to make our lives miserable but to learn the layout of the forest. It was a slight advantage against the Elite trainees' overwhelming amount of experience. I still thought that it was unfair that the crimson cloaks got chosen to be the hunters for today's game. The rest of the four teams were prey, and we had to elude capture or death until nightfall. By death the general had meant to remove the red strap, securely tied around our waists, but I was slightly worried that Castille's group had overlooked that detail.

The frigid air and the cool mist from the river made me want to turn around and give myself in, but I knew that the costs of losing this game so early on would be a lot more than embarrassment. Instead, I hugged my brown cloak closer to my body, and began doing what I did best. Climbing. Luckily, the toll of autumn was delayed, and the trees weren't completely bare of leaves. I latched my hands onto the cold, damp bark and slowly made my way up the towering oak. Since the tree was wet from the spray of water, it made the process of climbing it significantly harder. I had to be extremely careful to not grab onto the soft, moister pieces of bark, or I could risk falling backwards into the open jaws of the river. After a few minutes of climbing, I finally reached a decent position on the tree where several branches converged.

Surprisingly, it was a lot warmer and quieter up here, and my range of view had significantly improved. The layer of leaves provided a barrier from the bitter wind, and despite camouflaging me in a veil of orange and red, I could see pretty clearly. The gorge seemed even more menacing from this vantage point. The rocky cliffside and the unrelenting waves surely meant death to anyone who lost their footing at the edge.

Further out, I could see the uneven forest floor covered with tangles of roots, fallen leaves, and decaying branches. The thought of seeing no one from this height was a relief, but it was also slightly worrying. Where was everyone? I decided to ignore the twisted, sick feeling in my stomach, and I leaned back against one of the branches of my temporary shelter. Closing my eyes, I gave into my fatigue and slowly faded out of consciousness, listening to the cool breeze rattle the thin branches, the soft patter of footsteps on the forest floor below, and the drone of crashing waves.

Footsteps. Someone was here. Abruptly, I opened my eyes, scanning the ground to find the source of the noise. At first, I saw no one, everything seemed the same as before I closed my eyes. Despite not seeing anyone, I knew someone was there, so I remained still to avoid attention to my hiding place.

Suddenly, a flash of red caught my eyes, and I bit back a sigh of relief. It wasn't an Elite trainee, it was Llyr. A mess of dark brown curls hid his face as he walked along the cliffside.

"Llyr," I called, no longer caring about the attention I was drawing towards myself. He looked startled for a second, scanning his surroundings, but finally he looked up, his eyes meeting mine. A small grin lit his face, and he signaled me to come down.

I started to descend down the tree, but a flash of red caught my eye. I froze. Shit. It was Castille. His silky, black hair was swept back by the wind, and his eyes were cast forward in a terrifying concentration as he stalked towards Llyr. I opened my mouth to try to warn Llyr, but when I tried to spot my friend, he was gone.