Into The Woods

Chapter 25

The sunrise was a deep, bloody red. Nash couldn't think of a clearer omen than that one. H'nath, the father god, was speaking to him through the colors of the sky.

Nash made use of what little darkness he had left to dart across a cobblestone street and duck into an alley between houses. His every sense was heightened, his focus was complete, his determination was unmatched. Today, Nash was a hunter of men, and he was proud of it. He was proud, because his skills would save a god - his god, his prince.

This was H'nath's plan for my life all along. That was crystal clear to Nash as he silently scaled the side of a stone building to the flat shale roof. He kept low on his belly so as not to be seen and crawled forward. All that time I spent hating myself for choosing to go to war, all that time feeling ashamed of what I had done and what I'd learned to do... it all led me here. It was all necessary. This is the culmination of every decision I've ever made.

It was a strange time to be having an epiphany. Nash's panic was still clawing at his insides, tearing his mind apart with despair, but his heartbeat was rock steady. There was a calmness in his soul that came from his confidence in the gods. It was like having a veil ripped off his eyes and suddenly he was given a glimpse of the entire tapestry of his life, rather than just individual threads. It was his destiny to save Chass.

On the other side of the flat roof he peeked over the lip of the wall at the town square. The large wooden pillar the townsfolk had erected was surrounded by at least two hundred villagers, if not more. They filled the town square and spilled into the streets and crowded in doorways, all vying for a glimpse. The whole town had come to watch this nightmare. It had been a test of Nash's skill to get this close without being seen.

Nash's hands fisted against the roof as he took in the situation.

They'd removed the chains from Chass, but they'd affixed him to the tall wooden pillar with thick ropes tied tightly enough that Nash could see the way it was cinching into Chass's body even from afar. Chass was too long to fit entirely on their makeshift pyre, and his tail coiled limply around its base. His arms were pulled back and tied behind the pillar, the angle no doubt brutally painful on his shoulders. Judging by the pained expression on his perfect face, Chass was suffering.

But at least he's alive, and awake. Chass being conscious made things a little easier. At least in theory. Destiny was a tricky thing. It didn't promise anything, only tested. Destiny gave a man a trial by fire and it was the man's duty to succeed. Nash would succeed, even if it killed him.

The holy father was standing near the base of Chass's pillar. He was screaming and raging, practically frothing at the mouth as he gave a sermon to his impassioned flock. Nash watched as men continued to pile firewood around the base of the wood column.

Rage suffused him, body and soul. He could see Chass subtly struggling with the ties on his wrists, could see him wincing and weeping at the agony of the numerous cuts on his body and the tight bindings.

Every single man here will die. Nash pulled out his bow.

********

Chass scented him on the breeze and froze. His head tilted upward, tongue flicking into the wind.

Nash's rage. It hit Chass's senses as vividly as the red sunrise. Chass redoubled his efforts to squeeze his wrists from the ropes holding his hands pulled back behind the branchless tree. They'd wrapped him at the waist and midway down his tail, as well, and the ropes were so tight Chass was gasping every other breath from the pain. He strained in vain. He was helpless, wounded, and surrounded.