Mara
Pitch black. Silence. Pain. Everywhere. Underwater. The surface is getting closer. Closer. Air.
Air filled Mara's lungs as she gasped for breath. A stinging on the girl's arm slapped her out of whatever state she was in now. As she opened her eyes, an orange glow filled her vision. It took her a full minute to realize what had happened. It took another two to realize that she was still alive. She slowly rose herself onto her elbows. The orange glow soon faded into pinks and purples. And in front of the glow, a forest surrounded her. The trees were very tall with orange-brown bark. The sky above said sunset, meaning night would be here soon. She would be alone in the forest at night. Alone. No, she thought. She crashed in a plane with at least 20 other people. Where are they? The stinging on her arm worsened enough that she looked down at it- And cringed. It looked like something big went straight through flesh. The wound was at least 3 inches long. Mara took the thick cloth strip holding up her hair and wrapped it around the cut. That will do for now. Her bag was only a few feet away from her, so she stood up to get it. As soon as she was on her feet, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She regained her balance and bent down to pick up her bag. As Mara looked at the top of the tree line, her eye snagged on a gray fog catching the pinkish hue of sky. Smoke. That's probably the plane. She broke into a run towards it. As she was running, the sounds of the forest became clearer. The sounds of unearthly, dangerous animals. Unearthly. Yes. Because she's on Dianthri. The panic of that settled in and pushed her to run faster. As she made her way to the smoke, the forest began getting thinner. Within 50 steps she was in a clearing. At the center of the clearing was the source of the smoke. And it was not the plane.
~~~
A fire burned bright at the center of a camp. At least a dozen men sat around the camp in deep conversation. The men wore armor with a bluish tint to it. All of them had rows of weapons strapped to them. There were various types of swords and knives, some had bows and arrows. All of them had small black boxes on their upper arm. The boxes each had 5 glowing red dots in a row on the outer face of the box. Bombs? No. Why would they need bombs in the middle of an empty forest?
Mara decided to try to get within earshot of their conversations. Maybe it could give her information of where the plane is. As she weaved in between trees and shrubs, something cracked under her feet. Loudly. Every man in the campsite whipped their heads in Mara's direction. Her blood went ice cold in her veins. She looked down to find one of her feet trapped in a web of rope. Shoot. She scanned the forest ground for something- anything -to get her foot loose. She spotted a thin rock that looked like it had a sharp edge. But not before one of the men stood up and started walking her way, sword drawn. She didn't give herself time to think as she lunged for the rock. Her fingertips brushed the top of it. Just a little closer. She forced her arm to extend farther, allowing her to get hold of the rock. As soon as she grabbed it, she set to work on the ropes. She needed to cut the ropes fast. One snapped as she sawed her way through it, then started on the second one. By the time she snapped the third one, the man was only 30 feet away. One more. She sawed as quickly as she could. It was night by now. The cover of darkness will make it harder for him to see her. The man was now twenty feet away. fifteen.
Snap.
The man could definitely see her in this
proximity. She broke into a full on sprint away from the clearing. The man was fast- unbelievably fast as he caught up to her in 10 strides. She didn't dare look behind herself to see how close he was. Mara willed her feet to go quicker. But not quick enough. A big hand caught her arm. She stopped, standing deathly still. He grabbed her shoulder, whirling her around to face him. He stood at about six feet, a whole 9 inches over her. Mara noticed his cold bronze eyes as a look of confusion sparked across them.
"Earth girl." He said, his voice serious with a hint of curiosity. "What are you doing in the forest so late at night?" A dark humor was entwined in his words.
"I- um- my plane-" she stuttered
A cruel, wicked smile. "Come with me." He had no compassion in his voice, and she was certain he didn't care how she got there. His grip on her wrist tightened as he dragged her in and out of trees, over little moss patches and mud. The forest once again got thinner. The light of the campfire was visible through the trees, giving the forest an eerie glow. Sounds of animals prowling in the forest only got louder as the sky got darker. Claws scratching against trees. The purr of a big cat. Growling of a big, dangerous creature. Every noise caused a panic that went bone deep. Some primeval part hidden inside her chided her to run, get as far away from here as possible. But of course, she couldn't. She couldn't because she was trapped on a foreign planet. Because she was surrounded by people faster, stronger and ten times more powerful than her. If she did work some sort of miracle and escape, they would probably find her. They obviously knew the land well, and probably had other people stationed throughout the forest.
Sweat lightly coated Mara's face, making the cool, dry night air seem even cooler against her skin. Wind rushed into her dark eyes as he broke into a run, dragging her with him. Then, the air stilled. The steps in front of her stopped short. Her captor stood there for a minute, then slowly turned to face her. Crisp bronze eyes met warm brown ones speckled with gold. He spoke, his voice this time sounding like a predator to prey.
"Just so you know"- his next words were at perfect timing - "don't you dare think about escaping. Because you won't." He said, as if he read her mind.
He turned forward and his steps started up again, this time in a relaxed walk. The man, from what she could see walking behind him, looked like a soldier or guard or something. She could see engravings on his bluish armor that looked like an ancient language. Among all the weapons covering almost every inch of his back and arms, was the black box. Now that she could see it clearer, it looked like it had a latch at the top. Something was inside it. Other than the latch and red light, the surface of the box was plain. The guard had light blonde hair and a tattoo on the base of his neck. The tattoo looked to be of the ancient language.
When they finally reached the edge of the clearing, the guards stopped the conversation they were once again having and looked towards the two. Out of the group of them, the tallest one stepped forward. His armor had a reddish tint. His posture showed power, the way he held his head up, the way he held his spine straight so that he looked inches taller. His head was baled, his skin wrinkled around his eyes. He definitely looked the oldest. He was probably the leader.
"Kivan!" He boomed, in an almost drunk sounding voice.
"What have you found?"
The soldier pulling Mara forward walked up to the leader and pushed her forward towards him.
"A girl" He replied.
"Kivan, I was expecting something more exiting." A smile spread across the drunken leader's face as he looked down at me.
"I am the commander. And you will listen to me." He then looked her up and down, and noticed the gash across her arm. "Seems that you've cut yourself, little girl."
She straightened her form and lifted her head ever so slightly. She wasn't going to stand there and look cowardly, even though a voice might still be screaming in her head that she is.
"I am Mara." She said, "And you will not call me little girl." Her eyes met his and held there. As long as she's on a planet with people that might belittle her, she would not let them have that satisfaction. She looked down at the ruined flesh on her arm.
"Oh. It seems I have." The girl said sarcastically and looked back up at the man. The commander looked back up at - what was his name? Kivan? He looked between Kivan and Mara then finally said to him, "feisty, this one" and pointed to the orphan as humor flickered across his face. It was at that moment when Kivan realized there's something he forgot to tell his commander.
His eyes widened as his realization came to him that he did happen to bring his commander something more exiting.
"Sir! Wait- sir, this girl is not from Hymneva. She's not even from Dianthri. She's from Earth." The man's voice clouded with fear and speculation as he mentioned Earth.
The man with the red armor stepped back from Mara a bit, His eyes widening, revealing a face of unrest. The commander, who seemed to be quite shocked by this news, slipped his mask of calm, raw power back on. He then took a long look into her brown eyes as Kivan stepped back a foot. The head of the squad studied her face, as if it were a book to all of their sister planet's secrets.
His mouth opened, about to say the something, but then clamped it shut again. The commander turned his back to her and walked toward the center of the camp, where a bonfire burned bright. The firelight danced across his armor, giving the red metal a luminescent glow. He paced, back and forth and back and forth, Then he stopped. The man turned on his heel to once again face Kivan. Agian his mouth opened, but this time, something came out.
"She is dangerous." He said. A look of pure surprise and disappointment crossed Kivan's face. He stepped forward towards his commander. "But-" he said, before the red armored man cut him off.
"She will not stay here. Not even for a day. By Dawn, we must get her to he prince and he will decide what to do with her. Keeping her with us for long will only cause disruptions and problems."
"Sir- s- she might be, er, v- valuable." Said the soldier, trying to hold his ground, clawing at anything that might prove his point.
"Valuable" the tallest one said, as if he were pondering the word. "Do you know what's valuable, solider? Our reputation, our safety, the prince's trust in us." He walked towards Kivan, his steps slow, like a tiger sneaking up on its' prey.
"So, boy, you don't truly know what's valuable. You know what my decision was, and it would be in your best interest to obey." The man stopped and stood in front of the boy, a stone wall facing a scared animal.
"Yes sir." He said, all his resistance gone with his commander's speech. He grabbed Mara's arm, right where the wound happened to be, and squeezed it tight. She clenched her jaw, trying to contain the cry working it's way up her throat. The man pulled her in the direction of a small tent, opened the fabric playing a makeshift door, and threw her -actually threw her- inside. She tumbled to the grass floor, obtaining more scrapes on the way. She looked up just in time to see the beige fabric flap shut and the man walk away, fuming. She was left alone in the tent with a canister of water -or what was supposed to be a canister of water, for it was empty- and her bag. She sighed and lifted myself into a sitting position, leaning against the back of the tent. She sat alone with her thoughts, a trillion of them swirling around through her mind. One thought stood out against the rest though, and her mouth curved into a razor sharp smile. Why in the world would they leave her in there alone? Did they think she was to scared or weak to escape? No. She thought, they just underestimated the little earth girl. Mara chuckled at that, at how much people underestimate her. When she was five, Ms.Cavalin thought she couldn't handle herself, that she had post traumatic stress disorder from her parents deaths three years prior. She self-diagnosed her just because she asked about her parents, where they went, because she never remembered the accident. Of course, she was fine. She handled herself perfectly well. When she was ten, she got into a fight with another orphan. He stated that her parents were wimps, horrible people for dying and leaving Mara behind. All the other children bet, literally bet, that she wouldn't win. And guess what? She won. She ended up knocking the kid unconscious in one hit. Although, that made Ms.Cavalin hate her even more than she already did. The most recent time she was underestimated was a year ago, when the people she met outside of the orphanage told her she wouldn't be able to leave the place. They told her she would be trapped there for a long time because she was only a teenager, and she doesn't have any resources to go to college. They thought she wouldn't do anything interesting or successful with her life. Just look at me now, she thought.
She spent the next hour and a half planning, peeking out of the tent to memorize where everything was in the camp. She knew the fire was in the exact center, and all the tents were in a perfect circle around it. There was a supply tent about 100 steps from hers, which was close to the commander's tent. The supply tent looked like it had a plethora of weapons, swords, bombs, those little boxes, knives, and bow and arrows. She could see because one of the flaps of fabric doors was open, leaving the perfect space for her to take mental inventory. The food, it seemed, was in a tent on the opposite end of the camp, judging by the soldiers walking from it with something to eat every time. She also noticed that there was a meeting scheduled, well, she didn't exactly notice. Apparently, either the men at the camp like being extremely loud, or they don't know how to talk quietly. A short time after she entered her tent, one boomed that there was a meeting to take place in an hour and a half. By the end of that hour and a half, she knew exactly what time she would exit her tent, how she would take out the soldier guarding her tent. She also knew that she couldn't attempt to escape while everyone was sleeping. There would be patrol, multiple different night watches thought the evening. She would have to go during the meeting. Almost every man would be there (as mentioned by the soldier) so Mara would have less to worry about. She figured she would have to do something about the man guarding her tent. So, about a half an hour before her plan was sorted, she nicked a long sword from a man passing by. The sword, which was quite hefty, had a short handle decked out in intricate designs resembling eyes. Each one was different, varying from wide to slivers, twisted to geometric. The little designs kept her glancing down at the hilt of the weapon, suspicious of the eyes. The blade, on the contrary, was clean and simple. It was silver and shining, with each tilt of the weapon, the light would catch the steel and reflect to the tent walls. The metal was wide enough to knock someone out without really hurting them, because she didn't intend to stab the guy. As the ninety minutes came to an end, Mara played through each step in her head. Attack, hide, run. By the third run through, the bells initiating the meeting had rung. Five minutes. As the seconds ticked by, her nerves sped up, leaving adrenaline pumping through her veins and her heart pumping blood so fast she thought she might explode. Mara prepared for the escape, placing the sword in one hand and the canteen in the other. Ok, she thought. Step one. Attack. She walked to the back of her tent, where there was a little opening in the fabric. An opening big enough for a hand to throw a canteen through to distract a certain guard. She took the hand holding the canister and pushed it through the opening, chucking the canteen at the same time. Her hand retracted as so fast she thought she might have absorbed some of Dianthri's magic. She then bolted to the front of the tent and out just as fast as her hand. The guard was looking in the direction of the canister, and before he could turn around, she swung. The metal hit the man's head with an unbelievable force, a force that she never thought she could exert. The hit resulted in the man falling to the ground with a hmf, the sound of a body hitting the floor. She ran to the supply tent, not giving herself enough time to check if she hit the man too hard. She pushed the thought of the possibility she killed him away and kept moving. She ran as quietly as a theif, her boots making no sound against the grass. Running certainly didn't calm her heart rate, but her nerves did eventually, now that the guard was done with.
She reminded herself what to do next, and told herself she would be fine. Step two. Hide. She sprinted into the supply tent, and came to an abrupt stop as she took in her soundings. The tent was huge, the supply of weapons was bigger. There were shelves overflowing with the things, crates packed with guns and swords. The tent was awfully messy, which didn't make it good for a quick entrance and exit. She didn't let the fact that she was unbelievably overwhelmed by the stock distract her. She continued walking deeper into the tent. She searched silently through piles and shelves of swords, guns, knives. The place was like a stash of all the worlds weapons. After a good time searching, she finally found a suitable place to drop the stollen sword. A crate filled with weapons with the same designs as the hilt of her own sword. She dropped the weapon on top of the others and turned around. She once again urged her feet to go fast, weaving in and out of crates and shelves. She ran until something on the floor caught her eye. She stopped and looked to the right of her, to where a knife lay. The simple little thing was silver, even the hilt, and had words inscribed into it. The words were in no language Mara had ever seen before, although the letters did resemble the tattoo on Kivan's neck, they weren't identical. Besides the lettering, there were swirls and stars in the silver, each star embellished with an emerald. Before Mara could stop herself, she was reaching down to the knife. She picked it up and held it firmly in her hand. The knife looked new, the blade sharp, like it was never used before. She tested the weight of the thing, and noticed a slight hum coming off the silver and into her hand. The weapon had a strange feel to it, not physically, but something humming through the air around it. Power. She thought. Magic. So, Mara placed the knife in her bag and kept running.
