Remnants

Flying Night Hunters

"Stay low, move in tree cover, no magic," Anya whispered to herself.

The spoken reminders of her master's teachings were an attempt at calming herself as the apprentice Journeyman moved swiftly through the scrubby forest. Somewhere behind her, or perhaps all around her, merciless hunters were on the move as well.

Feet crunching softly on a small patch of mostly melted, dirty looking snow, she took a moment to catch her breath from a hiding place behind a fallen tree. Steam blew from her mouth as she panted. Her slightly crooked nose that bent off to the right was useless for the kind of air she needed at the moment. The pathway to her lungs was likely partially occluded from being broken and never properly fixed back in the fall.

She took the opportunity of her break to make sure that her white blonde hair, which was worn in twin French braids that her friend Liza referred to as her "battle braids," was thoroughly tucked under her olive green knit cap. She checked the rest of her body, making sure there she was fully covered by her camouflaged clothing. A quick inspection told her that no flashes of her skin, which was abnormally pale after an especially cold winter, were showing to reveal her position. All she could do is hope that her facial painting of browns, greens, and grays had not been accidentally wiped away. There was no way to check that and so, satisfied that her shape should be obscured to the naked eye, she set off at a quick jog to her goal.

"We know now that we can't rely on magic to conceal ourselves. If the people trying to find you have a magic user, they could be able to sense your magic and what you think is hiding you will just be a beacon. You have to learn how to move unseen the old fashioned way," Jack had taught her on one of their frigid training patrols in the area around their village.

Jack Cooper, perhaps one of the greatest Journeymen alive, was responsible for teaching her how to survive. After everything that happened in Dumas, he had taken the harshly and uncommonly cold winter to ruthlessly train her. Each exhausting workout, each night spent in the cold, each painful bruise and sore aching body part had meaning. Anya recognized the brutal training to be the the relentless lawman doing everything he could to make sure he would never lose someone under his care again.

The plan was for the young woman to have two masters. But since she had been invited by Jack to become a Journeyman, nothing had gone according to plan. Her other master, the former Army Ranger Chuck Wilson, had been killed in a fiery explosion. One that robbed her of a master and much loved and respected mentor. A surprise attack had robbed her surviving master of a best friend and the fallen lawman's family a father and husband. The mass murder, which had killed seven other master Journeyman and burned another to the point that he would never work in the field again, had been carried out by someone they had all trusted. Their betrayer was likely dead too but nobody could be sure of that.

She had developed a deep love for a young man who turned out to be author of the near destruction of the order of warriors she had dedicated her life to. The man who betrayed them all. Even bringing him to justice had not gone according to plan. In fact it had gone horribly wrong.

None of that mattered though. Not right now. She had to keep moving. Had to reach safety. She was unarmed, alone, cold, and if she allowed herself to acknowledge it, she was afraid. The last time she was on her own, she nearly died. And what she did to survive had changed her forever.

As she dashed across an opening between clumps of trees she heard an unusual humming sound coming from the sky. Taking the moment to look up at the sound as she sprinted across the open ground, she saw a green light blinking from up above. She wasn't sure what it was but she knew that it meant her hunters knew where she was. She had to move quicker.

She began to abandon things that she felt were slowing her down. She threw her backpack to the ground, never breaking stride. Where she was going, she knew she didn't need warm clothes and her efforts at hiding were no longer useful. She stripped away her wool cap and left her heavy coat behind, pressing on without them as she dashed on in her dark colored base layer. It was not perfect but it was good enough to break up her shape in the darkness and the weary warrior appreciated the added benefit of feeling unhindered by the warm clothing. After her mad dash, she no longer felt the biting cold of the late winter night.

The humming sound grew closer as she ran on. In the distance through the trees, she could see lights. Lights of the village. She was close. Branches lashed across her body, stinging her as she hurried past. Footsteps thudded behind her. The hum grew closer. As it approached it sounded electronic but she had no chance to consider what the flying hunter could be as she moved on, heart pounding, chest aching.

She was almost there. Almost to the village. Almost to the guardsmen who could help her. Almost to the safety of the home she had come to love. But not quite there.

She heard a crashing sound and had no time to react as a man who felt more like a freight train smashed into her side, barreling her over. She smashed into the cold ground, the last of her air being crushed out of her body. She lay there, gasping for air as the he huge man fell to the ground before rolling up and regaining his feet.

In desperation she reached out to the trees around her pursuer. She had been caught, concealment was no longer an option but she would not lose control again. She would not pour a lifetime of pain into the attack. She just needed time. She needed to escape.

A root sprang up and wrapped around the black clad monstrosity's ankle. Much to Anya's surprise, he was not yanked from his feet like she had expected. Feeling the plant's grip on his ankle, her foe simply reached down and snatched it in his powerful grip. He then wrenched several feet of root up from the ground with his hand as he moved closer, some kind of weapon dangling from his right hand.

Still regaining her breath, the cornered prey scrambled to regain her feet. She was tripped by something she couldn't see. Another one of her pursuers had caught up. Falling again onto her back, she heard the humming over her head. She looked up at her tormentor, the similarly black clad man. He was the same height as the one who had knocked her to the ground but he was leaner. His walk was one of a hunter.

The two men stood over her, their faces hidden, inhuman eyes glowing dimly in the moonlight. She was caught. She had failed. Magic was an option. But stretching her powers too far had nearly killed her. Maybe she wouldn't have to be strong. Her brain and her speed were powerful weapons as she searched for options.

Reaching out to the trees with her thoughts and hands again, she felt herself connecting to the life in the towering oaks. She felt the branches become like fingers and she reached them to the men who stood over her.

She heard a thrum followed by a painful stinging, right in the center of her forehead. Dropping her control of the surrounding plant life, her hands shot to her painted forehead.

"Bang, you're dead," the masked man said, letting the slingshot in his hand hang at his side.

She clinched a fist as she looked up at the tall man with her green eyes in frustration, still rubbing her forehead with her other hand. "Ow! You know you're not supposed to shoot at my face! I'm telling Aly!"

"Don't be a baby. I saw you for the last half mile. If I had a rifle you would have been dead before we had to do all of that cardio work. You're going to have to do better if you're going to get away from your teacher," her victorious pursuer said.

Pulling up his night vision goggles and pulling down the dark mask he wore over his mouth and nose the master Journeyman, Jack Cooper, reached down and offered her a hand as a triumphant grin stretched across his bearded face.

"Next time don't leave tree cover."