Falling Feathers Book I - Rogue Without Fear

Chapter XXIII

>>> Chase Ashfield <<<
"Autumn?  Autumn?"  I'd been calling her name for what seemed like hours, never was there a reply.  Something's wrong.  I've lost her.  I cursed myself under my breath.  I should've known this would happen!  I continued to run through the woods, in what seemed to be a hopeless effort to find Autumn.
"The one you seek is unharmed, there is no need for you to be alarmed!" Voices sang.  There were many of them, and the message was followed by a chorus of laughter.  I stopped walking instantly. I could hear the leaves crunch as they danced, while a cool breeze blew through the darkness and ominous woods.
"Who are you?"  I exclaimed.
"Our names and faces you do not know...  In time, surely we will show!"  Once again, the same laughter followed.
"What do you want with me?"
"A game, or a trap, it's all such a riddle.  But if you do not play, you'll be stuck in the middle!"  I instantly recognized who they were.  The nymphs!  I thought about the rhymes they said. The first one means Autumn was ok, I figured to myself with a sigh of relief. The second one means that some time I'm going to see a nymph... And that's not necessarily a good thing, I reasoned. The last one took me a while longer. A game, a trap, a riddle...  Get stuck in the middle?  I contemplated it for a few moments. The middle of what? The nymphs laughed again, almost taunting me for not understanding. The middle, the middle.
    "Our riddles and rhymes you quickly must learn, or else it might be time for concern!" Suddenly, everything was silent. There was no laughter this time. The third rhyme, I thought to myself with a churning stomach. I know the third rhyme. They were talking about the middle word. The middle word of the first part of their second riddle was trap. It's a trap!
    Right when I was about to turn and run, unaware of where the danger would come, a bright flash went flying past my head. I could feel the heat as it went by, and heard it thunk as it struck a tree. An orange and red fire licked at the bark, and clawed its way up. It leaped onto the ground, and started licking at the grass. The nymphs began to laugh again.
    "Run now, you clever boy! Careful not to let the fire near. For if you do, well, surely your fate is clear!" I heard the leaves crunching get fainter as the nymphs skipped away. My legs were frozen in place, but I knew I had to run. Move! I urged myself. Get away! The fire crept closer.  It had already spread to different trees. It's moving faster than a normal fire! I realized. It was already about a yard away from me. Run Chase! I urged myself. Right as I lifted my foot of the ground, and spun around to run, I was instantly sent back to a childhood memory.

    I must've been twelve or thirteen, still young and still before I'd changed. My dad was howling something fierce about how he was out of whiskey, and how I ought to go out and buy him more. We were at our old house in an unnamed village, if you could call it a house at all. The wood that made the walls was moldy, and boards were missing. The windows were boarded up and all the furniture was broken, the chairs were missing legs and tables were split in half. The sofas were torn up and candle wax had been dripped everywhere. The carpets were torn or eaten by insects, stained with blood and alcohol of various sorts. Most of the floorboards protruded at all different angles. Most of the stairs to the upper floor of the house had caved in, and the roofing had come off. Leaks were ordinary and almost to be expected when it rained.
    My father was drunk then, when he demanded more whiskey. It was his favourite to drink. His curly red hair was trimmed at all different lengths, since he didn't have the money to have someone else do it properly. His teeth were yellow and a few missing. His face was worn and aged, smudged in a few places with dirt and sweat.
    "Your money, boy! You have money I know you to! You must get some money from your ... your..." He waved his hand in the air in a drastic motion to find the word he wanted. "Escapades!" He exclaimed. "That's it," he added with a satisfied chuckle.
As a boy, even before I joined the werewolves, I was a thief.  I'd made habit of stealing small trinkets and sometimes, if I was feeling up to the risk, I would take some money.  My father turned his gaze back to me, frowning.
"Well?"  He grumbled, tripping over his own feet as he came towards me.  "Where's the money?"  I turned out my pockets and shook my head.
"I don't have any, Pap.  You took it all last time!"  He began to curse and scream some more.  He went around the house, turning things over and blowing away dust trying to find some change lying around somewhere.  I stood in place, too afraid to move.  When he noticed there was no money lying around, he turned back to me.
"You have some, I know it!"  He walked closer, gaining speed as he went.  "By God I swear if I don't get it I'm going to beat you until you don't look half like a human!"  He threatened.  I'd taken his beatings plenty of times before, and I was sure I could take it again.  I wanted to turn and run and escape him.  The door is behind me, I reminded myself.  If I go now, I'll have time to open it and get out before he can get me.  I stood looking at him, and thought about it.  Run, Chase!  Get out!  I turned on my heels, opened the door, and rushed out the house.  He screamed as I ran, but it was no use.  Don't stop running, I told myself even though I knew he wasn't pursuing me.  Don't stop.

I stumbled over my feet as I snapped back to the present.  Don't stop running.  I told myself.  Even if you leave the fire behind, don't stop running.

>>> Soren Hawethorne <<<
    I was out, behind the inn grooming my horse.  He grazed on the grass quietly as the brush went down his glossy black coat.  Dust glided through the air with every stroke.  He stood patiently, not budging as I pushed against him with the brush.   He swished his tail, to swat away a fly. It is about weather for flies to be going away, I figured as I brushed. I moved down to his legs, brushing softly as to not irritate him.  Horse's legs are sensitive, and so are their faces.  Even though Midnight was such a patient and docile horse, I didn't want to test his boundaries.  There are other boundaries I need to press, I grumbled.
    It was late Autumn now, trees were all barren, and from the grey clouds in the sky, I gathered that there would likely be snowfall tonight.  It was a chilly day, but a comfortable chill.  Birds were chirping and a few flitted around.  There were sparrows, mostly.  I heard a cardinal too, and I thought maybe also a raven.  If it was a raven call, it was very distant.
I moved my arm in one last swift stroke of the brush, and patted my horse's neck.
"Alright buddy, you can go now."  He stood for a few more moments, then he walked forward a bit.  I turned and put the brush in a bucket with the rest of my grooming equipment.  I picked the bucket up and began walking.  I heard a thud that I'd come to recognize.  I didn't even have to turn around to know what he was doing.  Right as soon as I had gotten him clean, he was rolling in the grass and dirt.  As I walked, I could hear him get back up and shake himself off.  With a smile on my face, I shook my head.  Sometimes I wonder if he rolls after I brush him to annoy me.  I closed the gate to the paddock and put the bucket down.  As I went to the front of my inn, I saw a strange sight.
A black horse with a stripe and white socks was loping down the street.  It had no saddle and no bridle.  People backed out of its way and whispered to each other.  Peter was standing just outside his tavern, looking to see the commotion.  When the horse had went past us, I went across the street and asked him,
"Who's horse was that?"  Peter shook his head with bewilderment.
"No one knows.  No one even knows where it came from.  Maybe someone killed the rider and took the saddle and bridle to sell.  Or maybe it's a wild horse."  Peter thought.  I shook my head.
"If they were going to sell the equipment they would sell the horse too."  I waved my hand in the air.  "What does it matter, the horse is gone now.  I'm going to go clean some rooms," I muttered, as I went back across the road and entered my inn.

>>> Autumn Rose <<<
Why did I think it would be smart to split up?  I've lost Chase now, and I don't think I'm going to find him!  I'm going to die alone, I griped to myself.  I kicked the dirt in front of me, and looked around for somewhere to sit.  I couldn't see any rocks or fallen trees, so I plopped down on the dirt.  How could I have been so foolish?  After sighing, I put my head on my knees.
"Do not fret, child."  A chorus of voice sang out. A childlike laughter followed, which I recognized instantly.  It's the nymphs again!  I braced myself, unsure of what they were planning.  "You are still needed in this world."
"What do you mean?"  I asked.  "I - I'm not anyone special.  I'm a monster!"  I argued.  There was more laughter.
"You must protect our treasure from the wrong hands!  It's up to you, Autumn Rose, one who bears the key!"  The voices sang out again.  I felt the necklace against my chest grow warm.  Treasure?  Key?  I didn't think I'd ever felt so lost before.
"What are you talking about?"  I demanded.  The laughter stopped, and everything was quiet.
"Child, it is time you learned from where you came," a feminine voice said.  There was a glow in front of me.  It was faint around the edges, but in the middle it was bright.  The glow started turning dark, a brown color.  Then, it stopped glowing completely.  There was a creature that stood before me, and I thought to myself that it must've been a nymph.
It looked almost like a tree.  It had arms and legs like me, but they were all tree bark.  It's eyes were amber, and it wore no clothes.  The leaves stirred around it's feet as it walked towards me.  It smiled pleasantly, and whispered. "Come now, and let me show you what you must learn."  I didn't speak a word.  The nymph extended a hand, and held it there.  I assumed she wanted me to take it. Hesitantly, I reached out to accept it.  The closer my hand got to hers, the warmer my necklace got.  Finally, when I touched her hand, it returned to a normal temperature, and there was a bright flash of white light.