Guardians: Protectors of Light

Chapter 11

 Image of the Devil's Own hound beast 

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Three dark figures pass through a doorway across the grounds. The solid door closing sounds through the quiet night.

"Come on." She tells him. His hand tight in hers, she darts into the armory tent. Inside sits wooden weapon racks, an assortment of swords, maces, and bows awaiting. "Think you can hold a blade?"

"I can try."

She hands him a two-handed sword, the tip dragging through the ground, too heavy for him to lift.

"I know it's heavy, but you normally prefer that." She tells him, watching every movement he makes carefully.

As he does a few practice swings, she chooses a bow for herself, slinging a quiver of arrows over her shoulder. Testing the bow string, she can't help but to miss her katana. A present on her sixteenth birthday, having survived to years of training and torture with her just to be abandoned during her first real endeavor.

"I can't swing it." He tells her, dropping it.

"Try one handed." She tells him, using the bow to point towards it.

"I've never used one in an actual battle." He tells her, eyeing up the small grip.

"You need to pick something you are comfortable using, and a two handed is too much for you." She tells him as she swings a quiver of arrows onto her shoulder. "If you don't like it, try out the mace." She adds, grabbing a small dagger she stashes into the back-waistband of her pants.

"This will have to do." He tells her, grabbing the one-handed sword, giving it a good slash through the air. She nods.

"You ready?" She asks.

"Take the lead." He tells her with a nod.

They cling to the darkest parts of the yard as they make their way through, ears alert for the slightest sounds. The wall on the far side opens to reveal the city lit up in front of them with streetlights. She pauses, nothing before her looks familiar.

"Do you have any idea where they brought you in from?"

"I was bound," he answers, his voice full of regret. "You broke in, how'd you do it?"

"Through a different entrance and I was running for my life. I wasn't exactly taking in any details," she snaps.

Shouting sounds behind them.

"We'll have to figure it out later." Valery tells him. The two take off, racing down the unknown streets. Valery fights to keep her senses alert past her exhaustion, past her beating heart as she strains to catch the slightest bit of body heat to give her an alert for danger.

Three blocks and one right turn later, they find themselves at a dead end.

"What now?" Trent wheezes, palm flat on a brick wall holding himself up as he looks at her expectantly. She leans against the wall, trying to clear her fuzzy mind. She doesn't know how to answer him.

Valery knocks an arrow in her bow, moving to stand protectively in front of Trent. She closes her eyes, focusing on all the loose body heat drifting through the air. She pulls the heat towards her before it dissipates. She pulls more and more heat towards her as she waits for them to round the corner. In a few heartbeats four Devil's Own block the exit to the street. Spotting Valery and Trent trapped; wicked smiles stretch across their faces. She dictates some of the gathered heat to the tip of her arrow, turning into fire, embracing the metal tip.