OathBlade (Wattys2015)

10. Into The Dark Forest*

The moons were just rising as the group met outside the city. The barest light still lingering from the peeking edge of the sun illuminated the field in a dusky pink and orange glow. Zethir and Taelin, hand in hand, led them to the waiting point and crouched to hide in the tall grass.

Elery glanced at them and, as if ashamed, hid her scarred bondmark with her other hand. She looked ahead to the barrier and scanned its misty silver surface. Barrier casters sat on pyrene disks, each separated by a dozen paces. Their eyes were closed; their hands rested flat against their crystal platforms.

"A constant river of etherium runs under them," Zethir said. "Those casters have been here since their aura manifested."

"The only times they may move are to use the bathroom." Taelin shook his head. "They are fed and washed by guard detail on those crystals so they can maintain the barrier. A miserable life, all thanks to the damned elites."

"Miserable indeed," Elery murmured. She shifted to stand but Dakkan put a hand on her head to keep her down.

"Keep still." He turned his nose to the air and sniffed. "Wait for the others."

One set of guards waded through the grass toward them and another approached from behind. Elery lay her hand on her sword.

To the left and right, some distance away, the other thieves began shouting and throwing stones.

"Who's out there?" the guards yelled. Both groups split up, chasing the shadows as they ran.

Zethir and Taelin rushed forward and split up, striking the two nearest barrier casters in the head.

The casters gasped and their eyes opened wide. A weakness in the mist between them formed, allowing Elery to peer through into the woods beyond.

"Go," Dakkan said as he moved his hand from her head.

She, Cylphi, and Dakkan rushed toward the break, followed by Zethir and Taelin.

The casters scrambled to return to their crystals.

Dakkan slipped through first with the others close behind. Zethir and Taelin were the last to come through. As they caught up with the rest just a few paces beyond the casters, the barrier came up and the mist settled into place.

Elery walked back to the barrier and reached out. Her fingertips bumped against the mist but did not sink through. Instead it was smooth as glass and unyielding as she pressed first her fingers, then her entire hand, against the surface. "Just how did you plan to escape with your treasure?" she asked, running her hand over the cool surface. It disturbed the mist, revealing that the mist itself did not cause the solid feeling. It was the white, semi-transparent barrier hiding beneath it.

"Pythremine," Zethir said.

She turned. "Etherium turns toxic when pythremine seeps into it."

"In large doses," Taelin said, holding up his hands. "Worry not, M'lady we have no plans to kill the casters." He reached into the small satchel at his side and pulled out a vial of dark green liquid. "Such a tiny amount in an etherium pool as large as theirs will cause no lasting harm."

She frowned. "We will not need it."

"How do you suggest we leave, then?" Dakkan asked.

"Isandel will open the barrier." She walked past them and snatched the vial of pythremine from Zethir's hand.

Taelin quirked an eyebrow. "It seems we have a royal with a conscience. How quaint."

Dakkan took the lead and they walked deeper into the woods which lived up to its name. The forest was quiet, devoid of seryn, lycar, or animal, so that only the occasional creak from the massive dreskwood trees echoed. They groaned to each other. One was followed by another, and another, carrying this conversation deeper into the woods.

The softer sounds of leaves and twigs crunching beneath their feet filled the silence between each groan and grumble. Elery moved past the thick, craggy trunk of a tree. She extended her hand to brush her fingertips along its black bark. Rain was able to penetrate the barrier, as did wind. A cool breeze swept across her face and stirred the fan-shaped dreskwood leaves, bringing with it the smell of damp, rotting vegetation.

There was no need for torches. Not that the rain would permit one. The light of the barrier cast just enough illumination to show them the way.

Unfortunately it also cast terrifying shadows along the ground. The deepest shadows threatened to swallow them as they approached.

Dakkan stopped and tipped his head back. "I smell another seryn."

"A captive?" Elery wondered aloud. "But how?"

He shook his head, turning in a new direction.

The seryn wasn't far. His black hair, long and straight, swept back and forth at the mercy of the wind as he lay face-down in the damp grass. His white horns curled much like Elery's, back along his temples to meet at the back of his head. Cylphi ran to him and knelt by his side.

"Is he alive?" Elery asked.

Cylphi rolled him slowly onto his back. His features were delicate, though smudges of dirt and mud with flecks of decomposing leaves tried their best to hide it. She leaned close to brush her cheek against his nose, feeling for breath, then pulled away. "Yes, he's alive. He's breathing."

Elery walked over and knelt, examining him. His clothing was foreign; flowing, almost like a gown, with wide sleeves that draped over the ground. She brushed her fingers along his collar, finding another layer of clothing beneath. The outer robe was black and red while the inner, thinner robe was made of some sheer white fabric. There was no metallic grit, and she was briefly struck with the sense she'd felt this fabric before.

The young man opened his eyes and she pulled her hand away. As his lids rose, exposing crimson irises, she let her hand rest on her knee. "Do you know where you are?"

He looked around, then nodded.

"How did you come to this place."

He sat up and long strands of ebony hair fell over his shoulder. The robes slid down his arm from his movement, exposing pale, clean flesh free of scars or any sign of a life of violence.

Cylphi moved back to Elery's side. "Are you hurt?"

He tilted his head, paused, then shook it so that his hair tumbled in a cascade of obsidian strands to obscure his face. He stood, and as he brushed his hair from his eyes they glowed with deep crimson fire as he smiled.

Elery stepped back and pulled her sword. The blade, which had once been silver as any other, then radiated a bright red light from the foreign inscription running up its length. The symbols pulsated as though breathing.

The seryn lifted his hand. His index finger rose to his lips.

The trees creaked and groaned much louder than before. It filled the forest.

Elery's fingers trembled.

His smile widened slowly, spanning from cheek to cheek, exposing immaculately-white teeth. The barrier light glinted off them, drawing their attention to the pair of fangs no seryn had ever seen in the mouth of another.

Trees which once stood firmly rooted in place now moved closer.

The leaves pressed and wove together, blanketing the area in darkness.

Then, the ground opened beneath them.