Tearha: The Number 139

Chapter Four: Guardian Demon

Fall had come and gone, and the trees had since shed their leaves. Soft beds of snow covered the once dried earth, and footprints trailed in the blanket of white into the leafless Valendra Forest. Below the white canopy, through the unthreaded paths between the sparse spread trees, the coated man walked, sword drawn, fear following close behind. And he should be afraid. The news of the Demon of Valendra having been captured had been circling the towns for almost half a season, yet not a single person till then had dared test the rumours until the treasure hunter below.

Adelaide smiled at the idea of proving the gossips wrong, and chuckled a little at the look of surprise she imagined the man would have when she dropped in. Literally. No one ever looked up. They never expected it. After over a hundred years, humans should have learned by then.

So she jumped away from the top of the tree, pushing away from the trunk. Her axe reached out to the next tree, hooked onto the trunk, and wound around it until she slowed enough to land on a thick branch.

"My forest," she whispered to herself. She spun her axes in her hands and threw the offhand weapon into the tree opposite the man. The weapon punched into the tree with a resounding thud.

He flinched, turned with sword pointed at the ready in the wrong direction, towards the embedded axe. She launched herself off the tree, axe in hand, ready to plunge it into the back of the man's skull as she free-falled. The treasure hunter must have heard her, for he turned and pulled his sword to his waist, ready to thrust.

She teleported behind the man, her crouched landing softened by the snow. Her leg stretched out, swept back, and hooked the man by the ankle, forcing him to spin and fall to his back. Before he could retaliate, she mounted him with the dexterity of a master gymnast. Her free hand lunged towards his sword arm, grabbed the wrist, and slammed it to the ground. Her weapon arm pulled back, raising the axe overhead, and swung it down.

No more killing.

The blade thumped into the ground beside his head. She breathed hard, partially due to the cold and adrenaline of the fight, but also from the tinge of fear in the back of her mind. She glared at her victim, and his eyes widened in fear. Her red and green eyes, the basis of the tale of the Demon, would usually be the last things her victims saw. But not that day.

She hissed, "You're in luck. Go. And tell them Demon Eyes have returned."

With one swift motion, she pulled the sword out of his hand, dismounted him, and spun to her feet. With the sword, she pointed the way out of the forest. The man scrambled to his feet and ran towards the exit, never once looking back.

A breeze blew through, carrying with it a small gust of fresh snow. Once she was certain the man would not return, she sheathed the sword on a small leather strap at her thigh, worn expressly as an all purpose holster. She went to her axe in the tree and with a heave, pulled the weapon out, and returned her axes to their sheaths at the back of her belt.

She took one last look at the man in the far distance. With her elven eyesight, she saw him continue his desperate sprint, stumbling, and getting back up to run again.

No more killing.

Adelaide did not scare easily, but those words from The Watcher remained with her ever since she returned from Everwind. And every time she remembered them, the image of The Watcher standing before her in defiance flashed across her mind. The steely gaze, the menacing stare, the overwhelming confidence that emitted from him, as if telling her he could snuff out her life as easily as she did the guards.

Shivers ran down her spine, and she told herself it was just the cold. Probably. She turned away from the battleground and headed back into the deep forest. Passed a toppled tree. Passed a hill of leafless bushes. Another toppled tree. A small frozen creak. Another toppled tree. To anyone else, the snow-covered landscape would look identical at every turn. But she had grown up in Valendra Forest, and had lived there for nearly a cycle, over a hundred and sixty years. Every corner was memorized, every change in terrain jutted at her. Landmarks known only to her littered the land. An overturned rock. A misplaced porthole. A tree with weird, twisted branches.