Stranger (The Aevyanthis Chronicles, Book One)

Chapter Six

Fallon sat by the fireplace, watching the shadows of the forest twist and dance with every swaying branch and rustling shrub. His sword – Mercy, his father had named it - rested within arms reach, alongside his bow and quiver of arrows fletched with white goose feathers.

Artem and I'athane, both pale and waxing, casted only shards of moonlight through the trees, but his eyes allowed him to see as if the forest was filled with a bright pale light. A gift from your mother, his father had always told him.

Beside him, the human known as Emmeline slept. She was a liar; he could taste it in the air when she spoke. A part of him detested untruths, seeking them out if but only to destroy them, like drawing poison from a wound. She claimed to have survived a night alone, finding food and shelter and navigating her way through the forest. Yet he could see it in her eyes, the way she watched him light the fire and skin the pheasant. She knew nothing of survival.

At first, he thought she was a slaver from Dock Town, studying the lay of the land before the rest of the crew followed. Slavers and bandits were becoming too frequent, and his patience over the years had stretched too thin.

But after meeting those men – the real slavers – he couldn't help but wonder whom this girl really was. An escapee? She bore no bruises on her wrists, and her garb did not match the threadbare clothes the Black Hand gave their slaves. In fact, he had never seen such strange clothes in his life. She wore a dress the color of deep water, with stitching so straight it could not have come from human hands. And her shoes were simply black slippers with a bow at the ends, not suitable for travelling at all. The badge she wore had writing imprinted almost by magick, but it was in a language he could not decipher.

So who was she? He had wondered if she was on the run from an arranged marriage in Te'alla. He had not met a human woman in decades, but he could tell that she was beautiful for her kind. With long brown hair, porcelain skin and big doe-like eyes that sang of innocence, she would be a fine prize for any man.

It would explain the strange clothes, he thought. And the way she reacted when I mentioned marriage.

He could not help but be intrigued – this mysterious girl who arrived in his forest and into his life against both of their wills. She even resisted his elven charms, as rusty as they were.

The forest around them was silent. He didn't have to look up to know it was watching him, the raven that had been following them both since they first met. An ugly bird, it watched them with a keenness that was almost human. Never before had a raven made its home in his forest; they were a bad omen, a sign of death. He could feel its ink spot eyes burning into the back of his head.

It hates me, he thought, touching at his bow. He wished nothing else but to kill it, to rid his forest of its presence.

The wind picked up, dragging itself through the leaves as it passed. Emmeline made a soft noise – a whimper – before rolling over and curling into a tight ball. Her cheeks were wet with tears, glistening like glass under the moonlight.

She will need someone to guide her through Agon.

He had never dreamt of leaving his home. He knew the name of every deer that lived with him and had watched over them, as he had done for their ancestors. Who would protect them if he were gone? He thought of his parents, whose cairns were hidden within those ancient oak trees. No, he could not bear to leave his home. Tomorrow, they would reach the nearby village, and she would find solace with her own kind.

The wind rose again, this time bringing with it the whispers of the forest. It rarely spoke to Fallon, but when it did, he listened.

They come, it told him.