Blood And Stone

Chapter 39: Preparations Begin

The Guard crashed through the trees, running toward the banks of the Blue River, their feet carrying swiftly and silently despite the urgency of each step. Their ranks had not been greatly reduced but were enough to be noticeable as they sprang over the width of the river. Their bodies hardly brushed against one another as they landed in the mud, their feet propelling them forward into the surrounding woods. Many of them took to the trees, traveling along the branches to allow the familiar safety of Sitharu to seep into their skin from the bark beneath their palms. Each step that they took on their ground brought their sense of comfort and power back to them, finally allowing them to let their walls down and accept the loss of their fellow warriors.

Cynric sprang off the soft ground, his feet carrying up the nearest tree to the first branch he could reach. He pulled himself up without a single strain of effort from his muscles, his feet finding the most solid place in the branches as he ran across them. He ran through the canopy that surrounded the very edge of Sitharu, navigating the twists and turns effortlessly as he brought himself closer and closer to his home. His eyes latched onto the sight of the tallest tree within Sitharu, with one window sparkling with candlelight. The night looked peaceful but it suffocated him as he moved, pressing in on him as the reality of what had happened drew closer and closer to the corners of his eyes in the form of tears.

Nimble limbs and lean muscle brought him directly to the window of his sister, Xenya. She sat at her desk, her head in her hand as she scribbled on some parchment, her quill never stopping even when she released it from her grip. He stayed as quiet as he could, observing his sister, his eyes darting to the parchment, attempting to see what she was writing. As the quill moved, he recognized the names that were appearing beneath the tip. Names of those lost to the strange ice that had covered the main causeway and those who had fallen ill and passed in the coming days. Sadness wormed its way into his heart as he pulled himself through the window, turning quietly to lock the shutters in place as his sister's gaze came to rest on his back.

Before he could speak, Xenya's arms were around him, squeezing him tighter than he would have thought she could. He stood, turning in her grasp to face her and wrap his arms around her trembling body. "Thank the gods. Were you able to secure aid?" Her voice shook despite her stern and business-like demeanor.

"We failed, Xenya." She pulled away from him, her eyes rising to meet his. Fear lay in the depths of those golden irises shot through him like an arrow, piercing his heart and bringing his face down to hide its shame in his chest.

"Sit. Tell me what happened." Xenya's hand tugged at his, pulling him to a comfortable seat in front of her fireplace, the couch a soft green color that meshed amazingly with the dark wood of the limbs that made up the frame. Her hand never left his as she placed herself beside him, her eyes a mixture of fear and concern. "Did you make it to Volker?"

"We did. Lyric took the lead as scout, running ahead of us by a good measure, we had lost sight of her for a long while by the time we got her moth." Cynric shifted in his seat, bringing Xenya's attention to the dried blood that clung to the fibers of his shirt. Her face grew impossibly more pale than it had been before. "Volker was under siege by Rissa the Bloodless and The Ulfheðnar. Lyric was doing her best to stop them without taking lives but she was forced to end a few. Shortly after our arrival, Rissa the Bloodless made herself known and the battle between her and Lyric raged with a rage that I have rarely seen between two people. They were equally matched, if I have to be honest about it but, Lyric was captured."

"How? Was she injured? Killed?" Xenya's words were riddled with panic, the implications of Lyric being injured or dead were far too much for her delicate heart. She had watched from afar as Lyric trained with her sister Raven and learned from Wybe. The girl was soft, pure of heart, and as innocent as one could be in this world. She had grown to care for the young maiden, though she never took the time to express that fondness. It was not her place to be fond of a girl in that way, she was the High Chancellor of the Sithaurian Four, she had to remember that her love was to spread to each Sithaurian in the city.