Meaelstrom

Chapter 2: The Journey

Clean and feeling like himself once more Nathan set off on the long road to the wall, a mountain range so high and wide it could easily house an empire. History had recorded it as something formed as a result of countless earth quakes caused by explosions. The mountain range was as treacherous as it was enormous. It was once said that a whole Exemplar platoon was lost amidst its treacherous forests and snowy caps.
Walking along the river, Nathan felt calm. The sound of rushing water and chirping birds were enough to wash away his worries. Closing his eyes he lost himself to the sounds, feeling the sun on his face and the breeze in his hair he tread on the path through the woods.
The path he chose was frequented by hunters and animals alike. Every now and then a sound in the bushes would make the whole forest stay still and hold its breath. Wolves were common in this part of the forest and it wasn’t unusual to see them climbing trees or gnawing on prey they hunted down, be it human or animal. The wolves before the wars could not climb trees it was said. The tree wolves were the assassins of Mother Nature, brutal, silent and never travelled in packs. Fully grown, they were the size of leopards and had claws the size of daggers with points so sharp and hard they could spark flames on flint.
Beyond the fear of wolves, Nathan expected no trouble this part of the woods.
As the sun set he camped inside the woods ,using his flint and steel to light a fire to keep himself warm as the temperature dropped, and lay down to sleep against a tree.
He woke up as he heard the sound of a twig breaking, and frantically digging in his pack, pulled out the dagger Aly packed for him. Under the silvery light of the moon, a thousand shadows danced, each of which formed a menacing shape. Nathan lay still and brandished the dagger in his right hand, groping for a handhold to raise himself off the ground. Raising himself, he looked around, alert and poised to spring at the slightest movement. Another twig cracked, above him.
He whipped his head up and backed away from the tree with his dagger pointing at it when a nut hit him square on his forehead.
“FUCK YOU!!” he bellowed, slashing at empty air “SHOW YORSELF!” and he made himself a smaller target, panting and forming clouds as he breathed out, wary to even blink so he won’t miss even the tiniest of movements. Two eyes glinted in the moonlight on the tree, eyes the size of small buttons, and a squirrel emerged, brave and unperturbed by the presence of a human in the woods. It watched him for a while, and then scampered away. Only then did Nathan feel at peace again, “Damn squirrels” he muttered under his breath and walked back towards his tree when, through the foliage, he saw a light across the river.
Heart beating like the drums of a war galley he crept on all fours to the bank of the river and, still hidden between the trees he peered across the river to the bank that was half a hundred feet across.
Wishing he had a spyglass he squinted till he could make out the 4 shapes sitting around the fire, three armored and one without. They wore armor he had never seen before and held blades that looked like they could cut through steel. The man that faced his bank had a wicked scar that cut across his face from his eye to his lip, and wore no armor. As the sun crept higher up the horizon , he noticed that the scarred man was clothed in a simple dark tunic and, with a blade strapped to his back he was the very definition of intimidating even though he was nowhere as armored as the others. As he began committing the stranger’s face to memory, the man looked up and for an instance and their eyes met. White hot pain lanced through his head as the man held the stare and the last thing Nathan remembered was the sound of himself screaming and the golden light in the stranger’s eyes.
…………………….

He woke up to being tied to a tree with his head hammering away like a smith at the anvil.
As his senses came back to him at once, along with the pain and soreness of being tied to a tree all night, he smelled meat cooking and opened his eyes, his stomach grumbling, and saw the 4 men he saw earlier cooking meat over a spit.
“You’ve been out for half a day lad. Mind telling us what you were to gain spying on us?” asked the man with the scar.
Nathans reply came out as a croak.
“ ‘E thinks ‘e’s a toad !” laughed one of the men and got up to empty a cup of water on Nathan’s head.
“Restrain yourself Cray” said the scarred man, “Fetch him some water to drink”
Cray sat down grumbling while another one of the men filled a cup from the river and put the edge in Nathan’s mouth and tilted it. Nathan gulped down greedily only to be racked by cough as the water went down the wrong way.
“Easy there lad” smirked scarface as the rest of the men bellowed and laughed .
“Let him loose men, here, come feast with us”
The man who gave him water cut his bonds and Nathan stumbled to the ground and lay on his back, his eyes half shut against the afternoon sun’s harsh light.
The men guffawed again and Nathan felt so red and embarrassed he would have liked to die right then and there.
Scarface offered him the leg of a lamb, and hunger got the better of him, he bit in like a starving wolf, hiccupping and licking his fingers as he finished.
“Alright, now would you tell us who you are and what you’re here for?”
Nathan looked up at the man, the lamb still in his hand, and noticed that his eyes were a cool blue. ‘That doesn’t seem right’ thought Nathan and then wondered why he thought so.
Up close, Scarface was as handsome as he was intimidating. Around 30, He had the face of an artist and the grace of a dancer, complemented by the build of a smith, with muscles that were hidden away beneath his long sleeved tunic but still couldn’t be concealed completely owing to the bulges where his biceps were supposed to be. His hands looked rough and calloused and he carried himself with the confidence of a prince.
Nathan swallowed his food and said the first thing that came to his mind “I want to join the destined”.
The chatter among the men died down and Scarface stared at him long and hard.
After what seemed like an eternity he said “Do you know what you ask of boy?”
Nathan held his stare, “Your armor isn’t from the Exalted. You are Destined scouts or assassins as far as I know and I want to join your cause”, he said, feeling none of the confidence he was showing.
“Your observation skills are impeccable, but what use have we of a turn cloak?” asked Scarface, smirking.
“I can fight! I learned the art of blades at 8 and I can ride a horse as well as any warrior”
“Show me you can fight then”, smirked Scarface and threw him Aly’s dagger that Nathan caught by the hilt.
“Cray, you’re up”
Cray rose and unsheathed his hooked long sword, and advanced towards Nathan.
Nathan scrambled onto his feet, stomped the shield at his feet on its edge and caught it deftly in his left hand and brought it up just as Cray’s sword hammered down on it like a ton of bricks, almost wrenching Nathan’s arms from its socket and making him stumble backwards. The other 2 men were cheering and whistling as Scarface stared intently at the fight.
Nathan brought up his shield again just in time to block another swing that would’ve cleaved him in two if he was unprepared.
“ ’ont take yer eyes off me boy!” bellowed Cray, smirking and spinning his sword in a circle in style, taunting him to attack.
“AARGH”, Nathan yelled, and rushed at Cray with his dagger, and parried his first slash, bashed him on the face with his shield, kicked his feet out from under him and sank his blade into Cray’s shoulder, both of them going down in a tangle of arms and legs.
Cray, his nose crushed and right arm useless now, pushed Nathan off with such force that he left the ground for a second and landed on his back a few feet away from Cray.
The breath knocked out of him, he lay there for a moment, missing his weapon which had been lodged in Cray’s shoulder.
Sword forgotten and rage driving him, Cray, a 220 pound hulk of armor and muscle bore down on Nathan, pummeling him with punches with fists gloved with chain link gauntlets.
Nathan, blinded by the blood from his cut and battered face, threw back his shield arm and swung wildly. On the second swing, he felt the shield impact with something that was too soft to be armored, and pushed a disoriented Cray down and climbed over him to batter the huge man with the shield over and over again until the it slipped from his arms which were now slick with blood, not knowing if it was his or Cray’s, he continued to pummel the body using his hands linked as a club until he finally passed out from the exhaustion.
Nathan woke to the feeling of his wounds burning and his body sour from the battering he’d received.
‘I seem to spend half my days passed out’ thought Nathan as he pushed himself to sit and eased his good eye open, to see Scarface looking at him.
“You’ve impressed me lad, what’s your name”
“I’m Nathan” he answered “Who are you?”.
“I am Krosis of the Destined, pleased to make your acquaintance” smirked Scarface “You’ve made pudding out of Cray, though he won’t be bothering you anytime soon his brother will be out for blood when he knows. ”
Krosis handed Nathan his dagger, saying “This is an excellent blade, keep it by your side always, and you can wear the armor Cray owned. The road is perilous and your shield is barely holding together. Welcome my brother, to the Destined”
Nathan stared after him, his mouth open and gaping, his pain forgotten, he looked at his hand and noticed for the first time, his obsidian blade, the length of his arm, which seemed to be made of flames as dark as a moonless night, and a hilt wrapped in leather that was worn and smooth. The blade looked like it was fresh out of the forge, as sharp as a blade of grass and as light as a feather with balance so perfect it felt like it belonged in his hand. It was easily worth a fortune he realized.
He made a note to thank Aly for the masterpiece if he survived to return.
…….
They set off the very next day, heaving their packs, laughing and guffawing along, fearing no wolf or man as the woods here were as thick as they were devoid of human presence. The other 2 men in the company were as different from each other as night and day. The one who fed him water was Zorm, a stocky man with a bit of a belly, not intimidating in any way because of his kindly face and his laughing eyes.
The last man was called Lithe, given his slight but athletic build and his skill with a bow. He had hard eyes and was extremely fast and moved and shot so fast that you could miss it if you blinked. His shots were so precise he caught game flying by at high altitudes by planning the trajectory of the arrow ahead of time, Scarface said he never missed. Lithe was the one who lugged him across the river after he passed out for some reason that was so hard to remember that it felt like clutching at a cloud.
As they stopped to rest for the night, Krosis came up to him, his scar glowing in the firelight, and said “It’s another 4 days of walking to the wall, and then 5 days to cross the jungle. All of us may not make it out of there alive. The plants consume anything and everything that pass through there. We found the remains of a whole Exalted platoon on our way here, sunk in the quicksand”
Krosis stretched and lay on the ground, “I will help you polish your skills with the blade on the morrow. Be awake at first light” and he was asleep.
Nathan got up, donned his armor and grabbed his blade, heading into the woods, where he swung and parried at an invisible enemy, working away till late at night, with the moonlight vaulting between the clouds, casting that part of the earth in light, darkness and light again.