Torn

Chapter One: The Run.

The night was young, darkness had just flooded the world of Farwood. Not a single noise could be heard. The grass was wet with evening dew, the moon was high above their heads, and the wind was crisp and smelled like sweet grass. The night was perfect, and seemed to be in it's own state if bliss. Truly, a time for sleep. For most, that is.

'How long have I been out here? Where are my guards? That ringing, it's so loud.'

The large male stumbled through the woods; a trail of fresh blood followed behind him as he struggled to move forward. Behind him, people screamed and yelled his name in a random mess of words.

"You destroyed our crop for the last time! Your fires have done enough!" Someone yelled, "Now, it's our turn to take your head!" The people behind him were angry, infuriated, and clearly out for blood.

The male stumbled; attempting to get a few ways ahead. His mind was racing and truly, he didn't know what else to do but run from the angry hoard of people. After his carriage was maliciously attacked and quite outnumbered, there was no getting out of it. 'Blaming me for things I have no control over.' He thought, 'I have to get out of here.' The male came to a halt as he felt his legs giving out; falling against a large tree. He held his chest as he attempted to catch his breath; looking about as he tried to find his way out of the thick wood.

His head was spinning as he took a step forward. The night left the world black. Even the moon didn't have enough light to light up the overgrown woodland. The large trees danced wildly as a storm roared towards them. The male suddenly stumbled down a hill, tumbling down in giant barrel rolls before falling down into a creek bed. Above, the villagers were still searching.

The male's head bobbed. He breathed heavily as he struggled to sit up. He had to run, and more importantly, now. As the voices drew farther away, it all became so quiet. The male dragged himself from the waters and up against a tree. A large gash sunk into his side, his head had a heavy bleed, and his body was beaten and quite bruised.

He began to doze, and everything had become numb. His head dragged against the rough bark as he attempted to lift his head up to stay awake. The man had managed to get to another tree for support, but it wouldn't save him, "G-gah!" He gasped, shifting uncomfortably as he attempted to ease the pain in his side. The large male's body was worn, but he was still listening, still waiting.

The young fairy stood behind the tree; holding his things closely against his chest. The lightning lit up the sky, and was followed by booming thunder. His aqua green eyes sparkled as he listened in the comfort of the shadows. The wounded male was quiet now, and the curious sprite assumed him dead.

The fairy flew around the tree, looking down at the beaten man. It was dark, and quite hard to make anything out. The male looked about nervously before leaning down and placing his hand gently on the male's bicep, "Sir? S-stay awake." He took his shoulder and attempted to pull him up, "Come now! Before they come this way." The smaller male whispered as he struggled to get the wounded man to his feet.

The large male winced. At this point, he couldn't think straight. The only thing that was on his mind was escaping the cold weather, and getting away from the feral villagers that were out for a made up vengeance against their king.

"W-who are you?" The male choked out; breathing heavily as they went through the woods, "You're going to get yourself killed, child.." The king shook his head lightly, unable to keep himself up, he fell into the much smaller male, suddenly feeling much weaker. His adrenaline had been used up. He had no strength left.

The small male jumped and quickly fell back with the king. As the much larger being fell into the sprite, his ankle twisted; straining it harshly, "A-ah!" He winced. The fairy covered his mouth for a moment; his eyes swelled with tears as he pulled himself out from under the male, "Come on! Get up! Get up.."