Season's Change Winter's Plight Book 1

3 Humans

Again, this human didn't know when to put his sword down. How was she supposed to save this foolish creature from his own stupidity? He had poison that would kill him coursing through his blood. As far as she knew there was no way to save him. No cure for the poison in him, none save magic. Every passing moment brought him closer to death. Didn't he know that? She put her bow away immediately after her last shot. She stood before this lowly human unarmed. Her blades were at her hips, her bow unstrung again, and on her back, but she was still very dangerous. Those blades were within easy reach. She would end him faster than the poison if need be.

"Save Him." She would save him. She just needed him to put his sword down. His sword mystified her. She thought humans were not capable of using magic and yet his sword still glowed with magical fire. How had he done that? Maybe he hadn't. Slowly the light from the blade began to fade and its tip started to dip as his stance began to falter. If she didn't move fast enough he would fall on that sword and there would be no saving him. She reached within herself as she silently called on The Goddess to grant her the wisdom and the magic she needed to save the human she was commanded to save. Her movements were blinding. A small globe of impenetrable darkness fell over the warrior's head as she called it into being. Her feet moved impossibly fast as she moved first away from the human and then towards him. He called out in the common tongue, calling her a beloved. She stopped in her tracks, listening, perhaps he was not alone. He was. She scrunched her little nose at him and squinted her silver eyes. Maybe he meant coward. The words were similar. When she heard nothing, she began to move again. The human was not so stupid after all. He had lowered his stance, widened his base and backed himself up to the tree. If she hadn't cast her spell on his head, he would have moved out of the spell's small area of effect. Wisely he kept his blade up. But he was human. He didn't hear her approach as she stepped in to make her move, not that any other being would have heard her feet fall. She needed to get that arrow out of his shoulder. She hoped that it wouldn't bleed too much when she removed it. It was going to hurt him. She picked up speed and momentum as she moved toward him until she was at a run. In the darkness, her hand unerringly found the shaft of the crude arrow and pulled it straight out of his shoulder. The stone of the arrowhead scraped and groaned against the metal of his armor, but the arrow slid free. The warrior grunted, rather than screamed and dropped to one knee turning towards the attack. She whipped herself up into the branches of the tree and swung over him as he turned in her direction to defend himself. She kicked him in the head from the other side and laid him low, her other foot knocking his blade free, so he wouldn't land on it when he went down. Once the blade was free of his hand it stopped glowing altogether.

He woke in a cave feeling feverish and weak. Alone and very afraid. He was unable to recall the events of last night clearly and his head hurt something fierce. He felt as if he'd drank a barrel of mead all by himself. Every muscle ached, and his head was pounding. The sound of the fire nearby made his head hurt even worse. The roar of the water did nothing for his aching head either. Where was he? He tried to sit up and the world spun out from under him. He tried to open his eyes to alleviate the darkness and was shocked to discover that they were open. He could not see! He could hear, but he could not see! He remembered that a Faye Elf with black skin and large silver eyes had come to the fight he had with the Fallen. He remembered thinking that she was hauntingly beautiful and deadly. She slew four of the beasts in a matter of seconds. Two with her blades and two with her bow. She had silver hair and glowing silver eyes. He also remembered that she blinded him and then attacked him. He wanted to scream, cry out and fight, but everything hurt him. The constant pounding of the water nearby nearly deafened him. What would he do without his sight or his hearing?

"Sleep." He was commanded and compelled to comply.

He woke up. She was surprised. She thought for sure he was going to die. She had no skill with herbs and healing. She didn't know how she had made the potion that she gave him or that it would even work. The images of the plants and roots she needed to make it and what she needed to do just came into her mind, the glyphs for the casting appeared in the air as she worked and prayed. She gave him the first bit two days ago, and the last just moments before he woke. He looked around as if he couldn't see, tried to move and failed. He was still sweating and feverish, weak from the poison. She did the best she could to keep him covered and warm while the storm raged outside the cave. She built a fire near him, yet far enough away that he could not roll into it and catch himself on fire. In his two days of sleeping, he moved a lot. Did humans ever stop moving? She watched him sleep. His dark hair matted to his brow, his breathing a little less labored. Maybe, if he was lucky he would survive. Carefully she moved to his side. He had fallen asleep again with his chin on his chest and his head in an impossible position. Very carefully, so not to wake him she moved his head back down onto the furs she had placed under it and pulled the heavy blankets over his pale hair covered chest. His breathing eased as she laid him back down. She watched him sleep for a while before she moved away from him to sit and rest herself.

"Stupid Human." She muttered to herself before she drifted into reverie.