OathBlade (Wattys2015)

2. Journey's Start*

Wind blew hard and the funeral pyre blazed. Thick smoke rose in the sky, carrying with it every foul word and curse against the Bethgardel kingdom Elery could think of. Her bondmate lay among the corpses at the center of the fire. The black coil around her wrist was the only physical reminder of the man she'd pledged her life to.

Ishthemir stood tethered some distance away, eating from a sack of arnea berries tied nearby. His hoofed feet pawed restlessly at the ground as he pulled his head back, violet feathers ruffling in the strong breeze. His kind, the molner, were a strange breed of beast. Feathered, yet flightless. Ishthemir was her father's steed.

Elery clenched her fists, then turned from the pyre.

"Lady Elery, please rethink this," a guard said. He tried to stand in her way.

She moved around him.

"That dragon is madness incarnate, the entirety of Leria knows this! You will—"

"I will what? Fail?" She spun to face him before squaring her shoulders. "What choice am I left with? What other pact spirit could hope to face against the armies of Bethgardel? Legend tells of a dragon king beyond the might and majesty of any other spirit in this world. Isandel, the Mad God, who steals the souls and hearts of men and women alike. I know his tale. I know it well. My father once told me of his venture into the Dark Forest. While the rest of the Leria knows only the legends stating the death of those who enter, I know the truth. One man has entered and left alive. That man was my father." She shoved the guard, her eyes blazing. "Perhaps because my father was a touch mad himself, who knows? Maybe it's rubbed off on me."

She turned and headed toward Ishthemir again, this time without interruption. He cooed and lowered his head to her, berries staining the downy feathers of his mouth blue, and she rubbed his snout. She unbound his tether and climbed into the saddle, gripping the reins tight. "I ride for Andethayn to speak to the Duke. I order the enactment of the Knight Council to oversee Lyewryn in my absence. With no one to spare to act as my guard, I will go alone. Protect our people with your lives until my return."

A slender woman with pinkish horns pushed through the crowd. "Please let me come with you, Elery."

"Cylphi, this will be dangerous."

"Which is why I should go," she said, balling her fists at her sides.

Elery sighed. "Go get your things."

Cylphi smiled and rushed off, her dark red hair bouncing with each step.

When she was out of sight, Elery tugged the reins and turned Ishthemir around. "Tell her I'm sorry."

With a snap of the reins the molner bolted forward, leaving the crowd to yell behind her.

The setting sun cast deep red and rich orange light across the land and sky. The smoke of the funeral pyre built a pillar to the upper world, where the homeland gods dwelt. She rode north until the sun dipped past the horizon, surrendering its stage to the two moons destined to chase it. The howls of olvarays came from the east, and she rested a hand on her sword. Casting a wary glance to the thin forest, she saw their shadows and nothing more.

Another set of howls came from closer by, and she didn't have time to turn before she was knocked from Ishthemir's back.

The molner shrieked and tossed his head and Elery struck the ground.

The olvaray that had struck her tumbled and kicked its thick hind legs before righting itself to leap toward her.

She rolled to her feet, withdrawing her sword as she kicked the creature away. Olvarays stood in a loose circle around her, their smaller front legs tucked against their fat bellies while they sat on their more muscular hind legs. Their large eyes gleamed in the dying light and, as one opened its short maw, she could see scraps of its last kill wedged between its teeth.