Catch A Falling Star

Chapter 3

Hey there dear reader(s), I know I haven’t uploaded in a few months, but in all honesty I thought of giving up writing altogether. I figured maybe I’m not cut out for it.   Still, the stories linger in my head whether I like it or not and recently a certain someone started pestering me for a new chapter. Thank you! This chapter is dedicated to you Doom. Hope I won’t let you down and I apologize for any mistakes I might have missed (I tried my best to get them all). :D

P.S. Sorry it’s a bit long, but then again the rest of them might be the same from now on :P

 

-          Is she still alive?

-          Yes sir, she survived.

A golden cup flew across the room and hit the stone wall, spilling its content on the way. The eco of the hit was deafening, but held nothing to the roar that came from the man that threw it. He roused from his chair and went straight for the messenger, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him in the air until his feet no longer touched the floor. The young boy let out a high pitched squeak and struggled to get away, but the grip was too firm.

-          Let him go, Asher. He is just the messenger. It is not his fault that you are surrounded by incompetent beings.

The man called Asher squeezed tighter for a second then threw the boy after the former cup. With a thud, followed instantly by another short squeak, the messenger hit the wall and lost consciousness leaving behind a crimson trail on the cold stone as he slid to the floor.

-          Keep this up and soon enough there will be no one left to follow you.

-          The world has no shortage of greedy souls, Crane, they will always exist thus I will always have followers, Asher replied amused.

-          True, but you already went through the worthy ones. Now all we have left is mindless idiots. She has been alive for well over two centuries, and dodging your capture for at least half that time, how do you expect these useless creatures to capture and kill her.

-          Like I said, no shortage, Asher smiled wickedly.

There was a long moment of pause in which Crane carefully considered his words. Then suddenly the silence was broken by a surprised gasp.

-          You have them on your side, don’t you? He asked

-          Not all, not yet, but soon, his smile turned devious.

-          Then have them- , Crane started.

-          Already being taken care of, Asher cut him off.

-          And the hunters?

-          As planned.

-          Good. Then should I get to work as well?

-          Patience, Crane. Patience. All in good time, Asher reigned in the other man.

***

            There was no doubt in his mind that the wild was always to be his home. There was nothing more beautiful than the bright green groves of the large eastern forest. Before the wars had started the size of this fresh scented splendor had been nearly immeasurable, and the living creatures that she harbored lived peacefully, sheltered from the soulless clutches of technology, greed and corruption. These days however, the trees seamed restless, in spite of the peace that supposedly roamed the world outside it. The population had changed and grown in numbers as far as outsiders were concerned, but the real trouble was that with all the destruction going around every time there were conflicts, the forest had difficulties housing such a growing number of souls when her own borders had been so mercilessly trimmed down. It was a miracle that there was so much left of her as it was. Still, not all changes were unwelcomed and the added company of a few friends here and there was a pleasant outcome of this change.