Without the Beauty of Us

Chapter 1: If They Cared or Existed

Winter's lungs burned as she tripped on an imposing root and fell onto all fours. Drool fell from her mouth as she panted hoarsely, she would have spat if she thought she was capable of stopping breathing for even a second.

She barely felt the cool breeze caress her sweat slicked skin but it was still the most relieving and pleasing thing she had felt in a long time. It was short lived however as she heard nothing behind her, they had stopped running.

She barely realized what this meant in time, scrambling and taking cover behind a tree. She heard the arrows whistling through the air and thudding into the tree trunk, though they were faint over the sound of her heart.

Winter made a fist and brought it to her mouth, whispering the incantations as focus and burrowing inside herself for the power she needed. Her hand was shaking, she didn't even know if she got the words right and the fatigue was worse than ever but nevertheless she rose and once again began running. Her terror-induced adrenaline the only thing spurring her to go on.

More shouts behind her, illegible over the sound of her breathing. She counted to three — the time it would take them to nock, mark, draw and loose their arrows — she threw her hand backwards on three, she only glanced long enough to see the white wave of energy in her peripherals.

Like thunder and lightning, the sounds of tree trunks and branches snapping sounded throughout the woods. Winter had no doubt that the arrows suffered the same fate since she was still alive.

She felt the ground shake as the trees landed and heard the rangers' screams of fear and pain. But then she made a mistake. After running for another few hundred meters, which felt like a few hundred miles, Winter turned and looked.

The forest was quiet and still, not even the birds made a peep.

The arrow was in her view for but a moment, lodging itself through her shoulder in the next. She felt it tear through flesh and bone. Winter fell to one knee and screamed as the white-hot pain shot through her.

A blond-haired ranger revealed himself and started approaching her, dropping his bow and unsheathing a slightly curved blade from across his back.

She could hardly tell as her snow-white hair fell over her face and tears filled her eyes but he was smiling, only slightly, but still smiling. Smiling at the fact of hunting down a near defenceless fifteen-year-old girl for doing nothing. She didn't understand. Why was this happening?

His black cloak billowed around his dark ranger leathers and sturdy figure. He was the face of death, so far from the rangers of old she read of and idolized as a child.

She dug inside herself for anything as he neared. There were only scraps.

The ranger lifted and brought down his sword, Winter pushed through the pain and exhaustion with everything she had and blasted the blade from his hand. It flew a few dozen meters before landing in some shrubbery.

She shook her head frantically, not even being able to form the words and beg as she tried her best to crawl away.

The ranger just grinned.

"Now you've got nothing left." His voice was deep, almost gravelly, matching his ageing face.

The ranger grabbed her by her shirt and threw her against a tree. Both her and her shoulder screamed in pain as the arrow's head dragged across the bark and shifted the shaft in her shoulder. He gripped his calloused hands around her throat, with Winter's left arm limp, her right fumbled for the knife strapped to her leg.

Her face heated as she was denied breath and tears streamed down her cheeks, the pain of his hands tightening their grip more and more was near-imperceptible next to the fear, the terror she felt.

She fought through it all, barely managing to grip the dagger and slash at his arm.

He yelled as he released his grip and fumbled backwards, blood spurting from his arm.

Winter collapsed to the ground coughing, her hands trembled ferociously but she kept grip of the knife.

He fell on her again, grabbing her wrist as she clumsily swung the blade at him. He took the knife and threw it away, slapping her with the back of his hand. She could taste the metallic tang of her blood as he whispered something in a growl, she couldn't hear over the roaring in her ears.

He ripped the arrow from her shoulder, the arrowhead passing back through her. Her scream echoed through the forest. He smiled again as he began to beat her, slapping her at first but moving on to close-fisted striking. Everything became dark and distant, far away. It was as if she wasn't the person this was happening to.

But it was, she knew that and she knew that no one would help her. Everyone was gone. She didn't know why this was happening, she hoped that she would just wake with a cold sweat in her big comfy bed back in Lanera.

She knew that wouldn't happen though, even the worst nightmares couldn't compare to what she had been through in the last few days.

So she would survive, she had to.

In a burst of pure magic, the ranger was blasted off of her, flying several meters in the air and landing with a sharp crack. She didn't even know what spell it was.

Winter did not hear him rise again.

It took an eternity for her to stand but she did eventually.

She bit back a sob as she gripped her shoulder with any strength she had left, a poor effort to staunch the bleeding. She fumbled through the forest, tripping and falling often though she rose each and every time. She could barely see where she was going. One of her eyes had swollen shut, her hair had been glued to her sweaty and bloody and beaten face, and tears were constantly flowing down her cheeks, a source of salty pain in her wounds.

When she could no longer rise again, she crawled. She had no other choice. She would survive, no matter what.

For hours, days maybe, she fell in and out of consciousness constantly crawling to get away, to survive.

It was night, the moons' light shot through the canopy of trees as Winter crawled. She couldn't tell if her shoulder had stopped bleeding or not but she wasn't dead yet, she would have thanked the gods if they cared or existed.

She could feel the cold in her bones and with the constant tremble, there was constant pain.

Winter collapsed to the ground as she felt the black begin to take her again, death circling her like a wolf its prey.

She barely made out the orange glow of fire coming towards her, though she remembered with perfect clarity the handsome young man with scarlet hair looking over her in worry.

She slipped away completely as she felt him hoist her up in his arms and the warmth of his body against hers.