One of a Kind

Chapter 5

          My eyes slowly inch their way open. I drag myself up to a sitting position. My hand shoots to my head. Wow, what did I do? It’s dim and chilly out; the nearby fire bestowing luminosity and warmth. I’m lying atop of a delicately woven blanket. I’m unable to decipher the pattern, due to the dreadful lighting. Though, from what I am able to make out, it’s composed of wool, and that it was woven in the fall. It's mostly yellow with many different shades of brown splattered everywhere.

          “How’re you feeling?” Castella asks in a cheery tone, “You took quite a plunge, there.”

          “What?” I groan, “Did I faint?”

          “You sure did. Must have gotten too overwhelmed by the legend of the Alpian. If you’re up to it I can complete the tale, if you want?” Castella continues in that irritating optimistic tone. Her eyes are sparkling in the contrast of the night sky; which is the equivalent hue as her spiral curls.

         This is so unfair! She is gorgeous, kind, a heroine, every man’s dream, and I’m a weak-hearted fainter. I’m completely pathetic. “Sure. . .I’m up for the rest of the legend.” I finally sigh.

         “All right,” Castella says, drawing a deep breath, “Where was I?”

         “Umm. . .” I skim my mind, “Blinking. . .death.”

       “Oh, right! The Alpian has an electric current running through its body. It has colossal venomous fangs, a blade-like tongue and razor-sharp talons. If you try to fight the Alpian, it will slash you to shreds then devour your remains like a vulture.” I gulp down the enormous lump jammed in my throat. Castella’s beautiful blue eyes are shining. Like earlier today, she appears breathtakingly vile. The campfire illuminating her face, casting ominous shadows all over. “The Alpian has scales as cold and inpenetrateable as marble. If you’re ever so lucky as to escape, the Alpian will hunt you down. No matter where you venture the Alpian will follow. It can survive anywhere, any climate. 

         “About several years back, natives described stories about children and women vanishing from a quaint valley village called Camage. They established searches, but never found the victims. A couple of days later they heard shrill screeches piercing the air belonging to women and children; they could only assume they belonged to those who’d been missing, for no bodies were discovered from the searches. For the remainder of the year, they lived in tantalizing fear, as remnants of their tribe were plucked out of life, one by one. Every evening their doors and windows  were locked – like that actually helped.” Castella rolls her eyes and snorts at the natives’ incompetence.

        “Sure enough when daybreak came, another native was lost. The town hadn’t any knowledge of whom or what was stealing its villagers. Though, they blamed the disappearances on the beast that was causing the heart-lurching shrieks that sliced through the night sky like a dagger.” Castella quiets. She has an identical expression on, like. . .the one she was wearing. . .earlier, before I fainted. I presume that I’m losing consciousness.

        Ow! What the. . .am I dead? Does death hurt after you’re already gone?

        “Ow!” I complain, “What the hell Castella?”

      “Sorry!” she exclaimed. It’s still dark out. I feel a warm area on my cheek that’s stinging. She slapped me! “Excuse me, for trying to keep you from going under!” she continues, still shouting. I stare at her, unable to conceal the shock I’m wearing. Out of the few hours that I’ve known Castella, I’ve never seen her loose her cool. My cheeks are starting to burn. How could I be so, so, terrible to her like this? This is the second time she’s saved me. I’ve never seen her act like this. I can’t believe I’ve hurt her. My head drops, my face flusters red. Castella is silent; she’s watching me now, trying to decipher my mood.