Under the Ashen Banner

Chapter Two: Salvation (Part 1)

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He was broken, half-blind, and weaker than he'd ever been, but he was still alive. A cool wind passed along the forest floor, carrying with it the dust from the path beneath his body. The trees creaked as the breeze swayed them, and the leaves rustled.

It would have been all too easy to simply lie there and wait for the end. Surely, he was bleeding internally, and would not last long.

Yet, something within him compelled him to crawl. Following this instinct, he reached out with his right hand first and grasped the root of a nearby tree. With agony shooting through his every nerve, he pulled himself forward. Then the left arm pulled next. His body dragged along the forest floor, hitting bumps along the way. He knew not where he was going, but he needed to get there. Ever onward he traveled, at a pace slower than the lowliest worm.

His breath ached in his ribs, which he was certain those brutes had broken. Crawling on his chest made it all the worse. Every time his diaphragm expanded, he braced himself for more pain.

Crows cawed in the tree branches overhead. They grew louder as more and more of them gathered.

Barghests howled in the distance, a rally for the pack to gather and hunt. Neil feared that the wind had carried his scent right to them. He would be easy prey in his current state.

Further he crawled, the smell of moss filling his nostrils and the copper taste of his own blood coating his tongue. He recalled the way his mother held onto him until her last moments. As the frosty cold settled in around them, while she shivered, she spent every night shielding him with her body. If he was to die that day, it would not be because he simply gave up. Such a thing would be an insult to her memory.

Twigs snapped nearby, and Neil used what little strength he had to lift his head and look. His vision was hazy, but the lower branches shifted. Something moved through the forest, and was drawing near to him. Some beast come to feast on the dying man.

All at once, the crows took flight from the trees above him. A falcon landed on one of the higher limbs, its head turning one way and then the other, eyes fixed on Neil. He wondered if he looked like a serpent in the bird's eyes, crawling on his belly like this.

Branches cracked as the large beast drew nearer to Neil. He closed his eyes, fearing to look upon whatever predator had come to devour him.

But the sound of its approach was not padded paws on the forest floor. Hoofbeats heralded this animal's arrival. When Neil opened his eyes, something white and shining blurred his vision. He cast his sight down, away from the blinding light. Cloven hooves pressed down the grass, and flowers sprung up around them. A tail like a lion's dusted the ground.

A gentle, feminine voice spoke, though Neil could not tell if it was audible or merely in his mind. "You have suffered much, and will suffer far more if you go on. Choose now. Are you alive or are you dead?"

"Alive," Neil wheezed out. "I'm alive."

The creature bent its head down into his view. The light was so intense, it was as if he were staring into the sun, but therein he saw two emerald-green orbs and something long and sharp coming from a space just between them.

"Take hold," said the gentle voice.

Neil fumbled in the brightness and finally locked his fingers around the sharp object in front of his face. It felt like it was made of bone, and the pain in his hands lessened the moment he touched it. He deduced that it must have been some kind of horn.

"Do not let go," commanded the tender voice.

He grasped the horn with a second hand and held on as tight as he could.

The creature started to move, dragging him along. When his head started to ache from the shine, he closed his eyes. The longer he held on, the more his pain was soothed away. On and on the creature traveled.

After what seemed like an eternity, the animal stopped and leaned forward, allowing his fingers to slip from the horn.

"Rest," she said.

With no better plan in mind, Neil did as the creature told him. He lay on his back, eyes closed, and welcomed sleep and whatever dreams it might bring.

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