Random Writing

Protector

On any other mission, she would have been grateful for the natural cover, but tonight it made her uneasy. If she could hide, so could her enemies.

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The moon's strong light can be seen clearly overhead even through the thick canopy of trees. In all other parts of the forest, the trees scatter the moon's light on the forest floor giving the appearance of a natural chandelier, but in this place alone, the moon shines through.

The moss growing on the thick oak is soft to the touch, but poisonous to the taste, and the tree itself is dying because of it. Thus, I do not feel bad as I hack into the tree with my axe, pulling it to the ground, and shaping it into a shelter, a fortress, a barrier between me and my enemies. I will need it. They are coming, and soon.

I adjust the glasses on my face, pushing them back up the bridge of my nose, before leaping back up to the trees.

The path behind me is lit clearly by the lanterns of my people, their colorful lights splashing onto the ground and the surrounding woods giving the forest a mystical feeling. The river is nothing but a creek now, it's lavender waters trickling over pebbles and through crevices in the earth. Further up, closer to the village, the creek widens into a stream, the stream into a river, and the river feeds the lake.

Surrounding the lake are homes built into the trees and the hills and floating on lily pads on the lake's waters. The village is a dream, some say. The village is paradise. And it is.

It is why they hunt us.

I hurriedly climb the thick branches of the tree, moving higher and higher until the forest floor is small beneath me and the trunk of the fallen oak is as small as a worm. I reach into a small hole in the wood and retrieve a bow, a quiver full of arrows, and a short sword given to me by my mother. Without making a sound, I pull the glasses off of my face and fold them into a pocket on my chest.

Now I wait.

Everything is silent save for the gurgling of a nearby stream as it rushes through its bed. Not even the animals dare to make a sound on this night. The tree sways beneath me. Though it provides the perfect cover for me, it also provides cover for my enemies. They will be harder to see, harder to find harder to kill.

I wait for what seems like hours, the minutes ticking by until I am sure I will see the faint glow of the sun on the horizon. But it never comes.

The silence stretches on and on and on until it seems like it will never end.

A lone scream echoes through the night.

The sound of rustling branches and light footsteps follow.

Another shout.

I draw my bow and aim my arrow toward the treeline, toward the screams, toward the footsteps, toward the shouts. And I wait.

The woods rustle with movement and I tighten my aim. They are coming. A lone shadow falls onto the moon covered ground, the figure of a man. They are coming. The harsh sound of metal against metal cuts through the soft night. They are coming.

The figure steps forward into the light and hisses. It's red eyes squint against the glare. It's forked tongue flickers out from between its sharpened teeth. It's clawed hands stretch upward to shield it's face from the fiery moon. After a moment, it lowers its hands and squints into the trees, looking for it's next opponent. It only takes a moment for it to find me. It's lips pull back in a wicked snarl and it lunges for the trees moving as fast as the wind and as silent as the touch of snow on a blanket of grass.

I leap into the next tree, but not nearly fast enough. The creature now looks at me from my old perch, the hateful grin still on it's face. It hisses once more at me before leaping toward me, claws outstretched, mouth open in a silent scream.

We fall to the ground in a tangle of limbs and teeth. I push away from the creature and draw my sword in midair. Somehow I am able to make it over to another, nearby tree and I use it to launch myself at the beast.

With a shout, I run the sword through the monster's chest and out the other side. It's red eyes glare at me and it's clawed hands make one last swipe before the glow disappears and the hand falls limp.

The ground rushes up to meet us and I launch myself off of the falling body, landing on my feet a few yards away. The monster's corpse twitches once, twice, then is still.

In the distance I can hear the screeching of the creature's companions as they feel the loss of their brother like the breaking of a limb. It will be only minutes before they find the corpse and with it, me.

I look to the sky, to the full moon overhead.

It has begun.