The War Against Aberon (Rough Draft #1)

Chapter Two

    Zaffre froze with her arms wrapped around Jhazarni. Everything seemed to slow down after the gut-tightening noise and that included her reaction time. Her ears swiveled around trying to catch anything, any sound, any scream, of any kind. Then, the noise broke out again. An agony filled whiney from one of the horses out in the field. Zaffre's heart sunk, but before she could rush outside her eyes were drawn to movement inside the house. Her father. 

    Cylis had apparently woken up and promptly turned over vomit into the nearest bucket his squinted eyes could see. The sick this time was a mix of stomach contents and blood, and Zaffre was horrified to see the red drip down her father's chin when he was supposedly empty of what needed to come out. Knowing her father needed help was the more important issue, she finally let go of her just as shellshocked mother and stood up. Another, weaker, cry of pain was exuded outside.

    Eyes teary from the sad noise Zaffre was drawn in two different directions. Save the horses which were the farm's most prized possessions, and her friends. Or go to her father who looked on the verge of passing out with washed-out skin and too thin a body. Jhazarni stood then, nothing in her appearance indicating that she'd just spent ages on the floor sobbing. She turned to her daughter. 

    "I'll take care of your father, you must save the horses from whatever's out there. Move the rug, open the hatch, and take the sword out of the box," Zaffre's mother rushed out. She was already halfway to Cylis, mortar, and pestle filled with herbs in hand. 

    "What hatch and what box? What are you talking ab-" She was cut off by more death cries. She decided not to question her mother and just do. Running to the throw rug that'd been under her family's couch for decades she rolled it out of the way. Below in the aged wood flooring was a definite hatch door. There was a spot in the carpet that'd always stuck up and her father had said it was a nail that refused to stay in the ground. Now Zaffre knew better. Pulling out the pin locking the two rectangular doors shut, she quickly opened the secret opening. Inside lay a long and thin box. It looked very expensive with ornate carvings in the clearly costly wood. 

    Ignoring the pricyness for the task at hand Zaffre lifted the lid and found the sword her mother spoke of. It was steel, with a thin but deadly blade. The grip looked to be red-dyed leather and the guard pure gold. The pommel was something else. Gold rimmed, the silver inside held a carved jewel. It was red with two separate yellow stones for eyes. It looked to be a cat's face. Truly, the weapon was a marvel to behold. Zaffre had never seen anything like it. Hundreds of questions whirred in her head about why her parents had this, where did they get it, what had they not told her? Yet there was no time. Things had gone quiet outside and she feared what she'd walk out to. 

    Gripping the sword's hilt she lifted what felt like a slab of metal to her untrained hands from the box. Leaving her mother to deal with her now lying down father she darted out the door. Tail swishing behind her the fur puffed end fanned out in her anxiety. Rounding the house into the entry of the horse field. Zaffre came upon a dreadful sight. A green and blue feathered creature stood over one of their mare's with her entrails in its maw. The monster was something of a big bird, but walked on all fours and had muscular arms that ended in long taloned hands. The tail of it was long with three spikes on either side of the tip. The face was something else. Something of nightmares, it had a long and wide beak. A maroon in color the beak was streaked with blood. It's dark beady eyes hungry for more destruction. 

   Zaffre knew the feathered abomination to be a Volbrix. The foul creatures were only native to Westwood and the Laverna forests surrounding the district. They were known for their ferocity and deadly temperaments. They were also rare creatures that made many nobles want one as a pet. Many found it difficult to obtain one, however, since Volbrix really disliked being in captivity. Zaffre would never understand wanting one of the oversized chickens. Twice the size of horses they were menaces. Staring at one now as it pulled more flesh from bone, razor teeth peeking out between bites, Zaffre wanted to run away. There was no way she could kill it, but she had to try. If it killed all their horses they were doomed. 

    Trying to surprise it she snuck around to be behind it but to the side so as to be farther from the weaponized tail. Most who fought Volbrix's and failed were due to them underestimating the tails' power. The spikes while straight and small in appearance, were pure bone and the size of daggers. They just seemed less threatening on the big body of the monstrous creature. Zaffre waited for a time to strike. She needed to be quick and precise. Dart in, then out, as quick as possible. The big lug hadn't noticed her yet, too preoccupied with its meal. 

    Her muscles tensed in preparation as she crouched in the longer grasses of the field that were closer to the house. If she was a second off it would mean disaster for her with her nonexperience. She watched as it picked at the horse at its feet. Zaffre didn't let her eyes slip too far down, not wanting to see the sight of one of the animals she grew up with dead. The scent of blood was in the air and it got her pulse quickening. The coppery smell firing warning signals in her brain that she forced herself to ignore. Then her moment came. 

   The Volbrix bent its long neck to tear into the shoulder of what was a beautiful mare. While it was bent Zaffre ran at it with all the courage she had in her. Sword raised in her hands she slashed into its side before dashing back. The creature released a roar that shook her to her core. It turned its bird eyes to face what had dared to harm it. When the Volbrix set its sights on Zaffre it growled deep in its chest. Hellfire in its eyes. It was then she knew she'd bit off more than she could chew. What was she doing attacking a thousand-pound animal with a sword she didn't know how to use?

   Eyes wide she tried to make the split-second decision of where to run to when the monster decided to charge. 

Word Count-1155