Anjaleen Winiture trudged through the growth and brush of the Evergreen forest on the outskirts of the Mountain village. It was where she prefered to go when she was distressed. She glumly noted that the butterflies and ladybugs, that usually resided around the thick trees near her destination, were absent, as if they, too, had that icky, nervous feeling she'd had all day.
She brushed a strand of blond, sweaty bangs away from her eyes, breathing in the humidity. She was close to her meadow. Well, it wasn't really her's, it was her father's. He would take her to the meadow as much as he could. They'd have picnics, play in the nearby stream, and catch salmon. Hot tears pricked eyes. Her father. Oh, how she missed him!
He had been on one final mission, to kill the last dragon that had terrorized the Mountain village ever since he'd been a little boy. He'd been Commander to his squad, and they'd trekked to the huge, dark cave that lead deep into the cold depths of the mountain. They were so brave to have attempted to rid the village of it's demons, but they'd failed. Her father's squad and multiple others, along with a handful of the king's best knights, had been slaughtered. Anjaleen, her tiny seven-summers-old self had heard the triumphant roar of the old dragon. The next day it had flown over their village carelessly dumping the knights' bloody armor, multiple clothing items and weapon, and her father's sword.
It was the same sword that was currently rested upon the mantle above their old stone fireplace.
Anjaleen kicked a small pebble as she approached the stream. She gazed into the clear waters and at the few salmon that swum close to the smooth rocks. She wouldn't catch these fish anymore, never eat her midday meal in the grass in the meadow, never splash in the stream. It would only cause her grief. She stood and made her way upstream, pushing aside ferns and low-hanging tree branches until she saw the dew-covered, fresh green grass on the flat ground of the meadow. Spring flowers bloomed along the outskirts, nearer to the forest. Plenty large rocks jutted from the ground in the center of the meadow, forming a small rock hill. The sun shone off the wet leaves and wet grass making the meadow seem magical.
As she drew closer to her sitting-rock, she paused. She heard a low shew, shew from behind the rocks. Breathing. She narrowed her eyes, infuriated. How had someone found her meadow! It was the most secluded place in the whole forest! Surely, someone couldn't have followed her here!
Yet, she still heard the steady shew, shew of a person sleeping. Peeking around the rocks, she drew closer... and gasped. A young man lay in the shade of one of the larger boulders, dozing. He had light brown, wavy hair that brushed at his eyes every time a breeze brushed by, sun-tanned skin that looked warm to the touch, and many, many muscles. Yet, he was very lean. But it wasn't his attractiveness that surprised her, but it was his clothes. Or in this case, lack of. The beautiful being in front of her was completely naked except for a small, miniscule piece of fabric covering the private bits.
A hot blush spread from ear to ear as Anjaleen realized she was checking the young man out. Mentally slapping herself, she crept backwards, closer to the forest- SNAP!
A tree branch split under her boot and she cursed, thinking, why does this always happen to me?! She could hear more than see the young man start. He swung around towards her, his unnatural sky-blue eyes staring through her soul. They stared at each other for a moment before the man composed himself, turning on heel and collecting a bag off the ground that he must have been sleeping on. He bent over to pick up the few contents that had spilled, giving her a full view of his- No! Stop it, Anjaleen!
The man turned again, studying her, before swinging the bag over his broad shoulders and stalking away.
"Hey, wait!" She cried, stumbling over herself to reach him. She reached and grabbed his wrist, "Who are you?"
His blue eyes searched hers again before a deep sigh escaped him, "You can call me Rhydian. Now leave me alone."
His tone was harsh and angry and she blinked, surprised, "I'm sorry for waking you up , alright? I had no idea your beauty sleep meant so much to you."
He growled at her, a low, guttural sound rumbling from deep in his chest. He took a threatening step forward, "Beauty sleep is the least of my worries, pretty one. It is the fact that you are trespassing in my territory that irks me."
"Your territory?! This is my meadow!" Anjaleen completely disregarded the part where he'd called her "pretty" and launched into the argument headfirst. "I found this meadow years ago, therefore it is rightfully mine!"
"I've never seen you here before, and I've been living here for moons."
Moons! Anjaleen fumed, this filthy man had been living in her meadow for moons! "I demand you leave this meadow by tomorrow when the sun is at it's peak, understand?"
The man glared, "No," then after a bit he added, "and you can't make me. It is my meadow."
Anjaleen shook from head to toe in outrage, clenching and unclenching her fists at her sides. Finally she snapped, screaming at the sky before sharply turning and stomping into the forest, back to her village.
YOU ARE READING
Rise of the Scaled Ones
FantasyAnjaleen Winiture, the average young woman from the Mountain village, is drawn in by the captivating personality of Rhydian, a young man she meets one day in the forest. Something blossoms between them, but it is crushed by him revealing he is a Shi...