Chosen

Sora

I wake with a start, sitting up rapidly. There is a blanket over me and I am covered in sweat. Semiconsciously, my hand runs along the back of my neck to where I was shot. I remember little of what happened last night, and looking around with confusion I realize that I have no idea where I am.

Frost has finally covered the hills of Juvalin, blanketing the ground with a white, flaky cold. The flowers are beginning to wilt and the last of the leaves has fallen off the branches of trees.  I marvel the way the sun reflects off of the earth, causing it to sparkle.  As I look, I see a creeping beauty fall across the land.

Standing up, I look around for anything unusual. I see nothing out of the ordinary; nonetheless, I still pick up my sword and buckle it around my waist. I walk slowly to a creek bed that is close by. Ice was beginning to cover the water, but hadn’t completely succeeded. The creek flowed too quickly and it wasn’t cold enough yet for it to freeze over.

I take a moment to stare at my reflection. My grey eyes, small nose, and lips, purple from the bitter air; and then my eyes flicker to my ears. I look down and cry out in surprise. A white dragon, beginning from my shoulder and ending at my wrist, holds a light blue sword, its point ending at my index finger’s knuckle. The man who helped me last night touched me in that area, could he have done this? The tattoo had to mean something, but what I couldn’t say. I sigh, plunging my hand into the cold water. The icy liquid causes a chill to run through me, but it wakes me up.

A rustle, coming from where I was laying, catches my attention and I turn to see a man; he sits on a log with his back turned to me. My sword hisses slightly as I pull it out of its scabbard, holding it at the ready. I walk as quietly as I can to where he sits, trying not to catch his attention. Then, when I am close enough, I bring my sword around so that the edge is against the man’s neck.

To my surprise, the man doesn’t jump and his voice is calm when he talks, “No need for that, boy… I will not hurt you.”

I look the man up and down, and then reluctantly sheath my sword. I move to a log at the opposite side of him and sit. It is wet and cold, but I don’t care. I study him carefully; he is the man I have suddenly been seeing so much of. The man from the saloon and the man who helped me the other day… I have seen him one other time, I know, but I cannot remember when or where or why. Now that I think about it, I don’t remember it being a pleasant meeting…

He stares at the ground and says, “I thought King Lorsan made it clear that weapons were not to be carried around here.”

“I don’t care what the King says.” I look down and again see his slim sword at his side. “And apparently, neither do you.”

He smiles slightly and waves a hand dismissively, “You can’t trust him or his damned peacekeepers.”

I frown at his words; it’s good to see that he feels the same way. It makes me feel more comfortable talking to him.

“Those are some interesting scares I saw on your back…”

The moment he mentions that I sit up straighter and the comfort I thought I had gained disappeared, “That’s none of your business.”

He puts his hands up in as a sign of apology, nodding several times. Then the man looks up at me and frowns; I look back at him, puzzled. He stares at me for a few minutes and I feel like he can see deep inside of me. Then he says, “What a strange grey your eyes are. And your ears…”

I smirk, “You’ve seen me before…”

“Yes, at the saloon down in…”

“No!” I say angrily, “You’ve seen me before that, quit pretending you haven’t seen me before that. You know who I am; take off the mask you’ve been wearing and show me who you really are.”