Mavierem

Chapter 2: The Elven Raid

Nathaniel woke with the sun shining directly into his eyes through the broken window. He sat up, but when pain flared in his head and dots danced in his eyes he let out a groan and flopped back down onto his haystack, grimacing. Someone walked over to his side and draped a wet rag over his forehead. The pounding headache faded slightly.

"Anne?" croaked Nathaniel, "is that you?"

The figure nodded and then put a finger to her lips in a quieting motion.

"You need rest," she whispered, "have this,"

She handed him a jug of cold creek water. The feel of the cold water trickling down Nathaniel's throat somewhat weakened the pain in his now-crooked nose. One of his eyes was swollen shut, at least three of his ribs cracked from the powerful kicks of the merchant. Anne pushed something warm into his scraped up palms. Bread. Nathaniel had forgotten all about his trip to the marketplace last night, except for the merchant (it would be impossible to forget him in the state that he was currently in).

Savoring the taste of the stale bread, Nathaniel rested his beat up head on the hay, wishing he could do something other than sitting here.

"What happened?" Anne whispered in a frightened tone of voice like she didn't want to know,

"I got in the way of a cart-"

"And it ran you over!" Anne said a little too enthusiastically,

"No, the man in the cart got mad at me,"

Anne grimaced, not needing to know the rest of the story, she knew enough already. She then whirled around and skipped off into the kitchen, humming a nursery rhyme about unicorns, it was amazing how her mood could change so quickly. Nathaniel's brain started to clear and thoughts started flooding his head, who was the man in the carriage, people of any importance rarely came anywhere near the town of Dunvult Manor, and if they did, they always took a long way around, not wanting to mix with the peasant folk. Sure merchants came in often, but they were barely any richer than us townsfolk were and were generally friendly. Nathaniel's thoughts were drowned out as he lost his mind to sleep.

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Nathaniel felt the most comfortable he had ever felt before. An unnatural heat warmed his back as he slept, most of the time the cold wind from the mountains swept into Nathaniel's run down shack, but he wasn't complaining. He enjoyed the warmth as he snuggled down deeper into his pile of hay. And then the screaming started. A cold-blooded cry of terror echoed through the night and Nathaniel bolted up. Fire. He jumped out of bed and ran over to Anne's side of the room quickly shaking her awake.

"Anne! Anne! Wake up!"

Her eyes blinked open and fear filled her eyes as she saw the fire blazing through the back window and engulfing Nathaniel flammable bed that he had just been sleeping on. Smoke burned Nathaniel's lungs as he pulled Anne to her feet and staggered over to the door. He tried to push it open to no avail. He slammed his shoulder with all the weight of his body behind it onto the wood. It was jammed. He cursed his luck and then went back over to where Anne was shaking in fear as the fire crept closer and closer. He dragged Anne to the kitchen window and then remembered that it was boarded shut to keep the cold out. Nathaniel cried out in exasperation as he pounded the wood. The wall of the bedroom collapsed. Anne started to cry. I called out to Anne,

"When I say three, we have to dive out the collapsed wall, cover your head with your arms, you have to trust me."

Anne nodded through her tears,

"One,"

The door had now burst into flames,

"Two,"