The Lost Tale

The Beginning

The sunshine washes over the plots of soil beside the village- fresh seeds had been sown over the last months; the population works together to provide. A handful of men and women tend to the crops as the sun rises higher, the heat of the day pouring down against their skin. Our village isn't big- mostly consisting of farmers and hunters; and a semi-adequate troop of warriors.

My violet eyes flicker across the village as I make my way into the home I share with my mother. I'm ready to rest having been up through the night guarding the crops- and I set my bow and arrow down as I pass through the door. My mother is gone, I shuffle over to a cot tucked against one wall and stretch my muscles, my body groaning as I settle onto the cot.

Too tired to bother taking off my boots- I lay on my side and let the relief of sleep take me as I close my eyes. Darkness comes easily and my dreams flicker images of wild human sized creatures flying overtop tall trees. My time of rest is filled with them; the winged animals of all colors dance around each other. The beating of their wings in the air disturbs me- and I blink groggily as I wake.

I can't have slept for more than a few hours, and I sit up as I rub my eyes with the palms of my hands. My mind is foggy as I let out a yawn and I move my attention to running my fingers through my long black hair- the tangled tendrils pull against my fingers as I straighten myself. Footsteps approach outside and I look up expectantly.

Shouts sound from the other side of my village as my mother rushes in and crosses the small room that is our home. The plain walls wash her normally pale pink cheeks a sickly green. She turns to me sternly- the rigidity in the muscles of her shoulders and temple warning me of stress. "We're under attack-."A moment without words, her shuffling feet scrape the ground as she pushes my bow and quiver of arrows into my hand before kissing my forehead. Her long brown hair falls in a braid over her shoulder as I look at her questioningly."Iona, they will try to kill us all; do not let them kill you."

My brow furrows as I nod and maneuver the straps from the quiver around me- my breath shakes with nerves as the worn leather straps fit over my slender frame effortlessly. No sooner than my bow is in my hands firmly she is gone, her brown eyes flash hopefully to me behind her once again. The woman who raised me runs into battle- I hear the yells of battle trill in the air and the approaching clatter of swords and shields. My first battle.

I decide that leaving from the back of my home will be better, I need to get ahead of our attackers. The sunlight warms my skin as I step from the four walls- and I hear shuffling behind me; I make quick moves and I curse shallowly. I've been a hunter for years; but I was never taken into battle and until today.

Flinging myself away from the brawl in search of high ground to survive, my heart quickens with each step my feet carry me. The village smells of metal and death as I see Arut, our blacksmith, his broad form tangled with a uniquely large red headed man several yards across the village. The warrior he fights has to be the biggest man I've ever seen. The ginger giant heaves him up by the neck and drives a wild dagger through rib and heart until blood gorges around the beasts massive hands. My heart lurches as the lifeless vessel that was Arut hits the ground- I continue running.

The hall isn't far and I make my way there, the streets behind me seem to fill to the brim with enemies; the sounds of tearing flesh and cries of children hovers behind me as I leap up onto the roof via a wagon parked behind it. Flat against the wood, I crawl to the edge and prep an arrow with my chest pressed down to keep myself unseen.

My eyes catch a glimpse of my mother, her sword flying as she fights. Scanning the square below makes my stomach lurch- small children lay slaughtered. I take in a sharp hissing breath as I set my gaze on a corpse; one that used to be my friend, Gail, lays limp on the ground- blood washes around her pale blonde hair. I feel a hot tear fall from my eyes as I look down on her mangled form.