Leonaira: Tales of fallen kings

"Pilot" :- Chapter 1

Leonaira a land unforgiving, as it is beautiful and vast. From the ravenous mountains of the centre, leading to those larger to the north. The marshlands of the west, to the volcanic wasteland of the east where the fire is left to destroy any life unfortunate enough to find themselves there. Yet, where the path and our tale begins is to the south of the central mountains. Where a vast woodland is found, accompanied by cities, paths, villages, and settlements by the people who live in them. Where a lonely young man a hermit of sorts walks through the woodland heading towards the Tears River and where a tale that will shape the future will begin. Starting the race for the dark to rise over the weak.

James

I walk along the fallen tree as the edge of the stream begins only a few meters from me. It had been a while before I drank fresh water. Using the last of my supplies in my "man cave" the phrase I meant literally, I take my water bottle from my satchel placing it in the water. The water rushes through my hands as the water falls through my grasp. Into multiple waterfalls and then a large plummet down the biggest fall. The current doesn't affect my hands nor, my will to fill the flask. It will take me a few trips to fill the reserves again. But for the rest I will have afterward will be worth it.

I sit there, the sun dazzles in my eyes from the reflection through the water. Its mid-day as the sun hits the central mountain. The fish fly through the stream and down the falls one even hiting my hand. A bear across the way walks along. I remain quiet not wanting to ruin the wild grizzly's day. But the bear glares only looking at me for a moment then going along with its business and passes through.

Filling the flask to the brim I simply close it and place it within my satchel. carry along with my pen and a dagger which doesn't do much in terms of being a weapon. It's mainly to scare off bandits or hunters and the odd wild animal or two.

People always wondered why I carry a pen, I would only answer that it has more worth than the eyes could ever see or know. I'd find myself chuckling to myself at the thought my own little secret.

Seeing the moving brush across the river. The Waterfall obscuring my hearing only my sight being the only sense I can use. I watch closely. Waiting, watching not willing myself to move or miss a thing.

The bush rustles, then a girl, no less than maybe my age emerges. She freezes staring at me. The girl having matted light brown hair. Wearing a shirt that might have been white once was now brown, muddy and ripped. Her leggings black looking alike they belong to, or did belong to a young man.

It looked like it belonged to a rich person rather than one of the farmers that lived in the closest village, weeks of walking away.

Slowly and hesitantly looking directly at her. Standing up. I open it back drinking a little from the flask closing it and putting it in my bag quickly. She seems to stare at me for a moment, then runs at me quicker than any girl should. Attacking me with a black handeld knife she springs from behind her, she sprints not even stumbling across the riverbed, she lunges at me with the knife as I move back.

As she lunges at me I walk backward, she keeps attempting to slash away at me with the dagger. She then cuts my satchel and hits my flask. The water pours out and she still tries slashing at me. "Screw this" I block the dagger by grabbing her arm. She isn't very fast. I simply take it out of her handswith little effort. She tries to resist but, I take it dropping it pushing the girl back she falls on the ground

"What on Leonaira?!" the girl looks winces still angry then asking scared of me. "You're not one of them, are you?" I look down to see my pen and dagger sit on the floor fallen from the broken satchel. I look at her and say nothing. Not knowing who 'they' are. I pick up the Pen and leave the dagger on the ground. Kicking it away behind me.