The Desolate World: Artria

Chapter 1: The Stranger

5 Months Earlier

I’d just left the Southern Shrine. It was Gin’s birthday, he’s 31 now, even found a girl to marry him. I’m only 22, terribly timid and…alone. I rolled my shoulders, letting my full wing span unfurl and arch over me, casting a mighty shadow over me. I ran to the edge of the island, and dove off, shooting through a cloud. I swerved, hovered for a bit, and banked onto the porch of a treehouse, which is connected by bridges to many others. I tucked my wings back in against my spine, fixed my jacket, and climbed down to the clearing of the 3 tall oak trees that loomed over the woodland edge of Madrik. I sat at the pond’s edge, glanced over my shoulder and sighed. People bustled around town: foxes, hedgehogs, cats, rabbits, etc., socializing and mingling during daily business. It hurt me, seeing people hang out and talk to their friends. Why couldn’t I be like them? Why don’t I have any friends? A voice broke through my thoughts, in my head:                                                                                                “Because you’re socially awkward, you fret over everything, and you have serious trust issues. Need I go on?”  I shook my head to dissipate the voice. I glanced at my reflection in the pond: long pink hair that stopped at my knees and was ragged, pink fur, bright blue eyes, a long scar across my neck to my collarbone from the war. I shifted my shoulders, so I could see them in the pond and studied the outline of my wings under my jacket. 22ft wing span, ruffled dark pink feathers. That’s just one of the reasons I don’t go out in public, I’m a hedgehog with wings. People would see me as a freak and hate me, or…worse. I buried my face in my arms, which wrapped around my knees, pulled to my chest. After a while, I’d fallen back into the grass and dozed off, the warm ray of the sun on my face. A few feet away, within the trees, I heard leaves crunch and a couple twigs snap. I stiffened. Whoever, whatever, it was, it was directly above me, face to face. I felt its warm, foul smelling breath on my face as it grunted. I flinched, giving away the option of playing dead, and I opened my eyes. I found myself staring through the eye pockets of an oddly symbol covered and styled mask, into beautiful captivating green eyes. I gulped.                                    

“Hello Madam,” A strong voice leaked through the mask, more breath against my face. All captivation disappeared, my breathing thinned and my pupils dilated into cat-like slits. I let a scream rip from my throat, either to startle him or at my own expense, and scrambled out from underneath him. My wings flared out from their hidden position, and arched menacingly over my head. My feathers ruffled, making my wing span seem larger, as I sat on the opposite of the pond from him, breathing through jagged gasps.                                                                    

“Whoa…,” He smiled beneath his mask, I heard the breath whisk from his lungs in captivation at the sight of my wings and the way I stood: Straight, tail down, ears flat, eyes like a cat’s and glowing bright blue in the dark shadow cast by my wings, “Your…Cute.”                                                                                 “Excuse me?” I felt my cheeks heat up. No response further given from this stranger. A gleam of silver caught my eye and my stomach dropped like a pin. In one of his tattered sheaths was a blood stained dagger; I now knew his intentions. I cleared my throat, and curled my wings around me, still hiding in the left over shadows.                                                                              “Wh…Who are you?” I managed to squeak out.  “Leviathan of the Blithe Order. Levy for short, you are?” His eyes entranced me, his voice full of charm and charisma. Blithe Order huh? Mizan must’ve been serious about that death plith, I thought.         

  “Ravian Vair of Artria,” I dragged the last word out slowly, as my city is long dead. He actually laughed at me!                                       

“Cute and funny?” He smirked.                           

“Hush your vile persecution! I’ll slay you where you stand!” I squeaked. My back began to bubble. Yes, bubble. I’m physically able to manifest a weapon of choice from my own blood. Cool, right? No, it’s a freaking pain, both mentally and physically. Why mentally? Well…remember that voice from earlier? Yeah, uh, the weapon is alive.                                            

“Calm down shorty,” Leviathan piped, a hand on my head, now suddenly beside me. I squealed and scrambled back, holding the closet available weapon: a short stick.                                               

“Hurry up and form, Maize! I don’t pay you to do nothing!” I hissed under my breath. “You don’t pay me at all!” He yelled in my head, rattling my skull, I winced. Leviathan raised a curious eyebrow at me, so I cleared my throat, shook my head, and took a battle stance. “Stay back!”                                                      

  “Jeez, you’re jumpy. I ain’t gonna hurt you, I promise,” he spat, agitated at my hostility. I gave no response, he seemed hurt that I would think he was going to harm me. We sat there in a long silence, so I took the opportunity to take in Leviathan’s appearance: at least 7’5, silver fur, hedgehog, wearing a full set of Daedric armor (galiant class), piercing green eyes that made my heart beat out of tempo, and jut an overall flirt. I was completely captivated by this man, calling himself “Leviathan of the Blithe Order.” Bah…If he is a blithe galiant, highest ranking officer in Mizan’s army, who also hates my existence, why hasn’t he killed me yet?  Does he not believe my place of origin because it no longer stands? How old does he take me for?!                                      

“Ey shorty! You alright? You’re not runnin’ your mouth at me no more,” He asked, shaking my shoulders. I looked up at him, and stepped back a few feet, at least out of his arm reach.            

“What is your purpose, Levy?” He smiled as I used his nickname. On accident, I swear! It just…felt right. Ugh, what’s wrong with me? Is he playing mind games with me?                       

“My purpose was I was walking down Main and saw a beautiful pink streak zip down into the canopy of leaves to the forest floor. It’s only custom that I greet such a feat,” he smirked.  I felt my cheeks heat, and I quietly growled.  I rounded him, staring him dead in the eye, keeping all contact possible. He grinned, and was suddenly behind me, holding me up from under the arms. I shrieked my outrage, trying to swing my legs into his groin or stomach. He laughed at my struggled, even called me adorable! The nerve! I squirmed and writhed, and finally unfurled my wings in a bright pink cascade of swirling feathers. He yelled, dropping me, and I shot into the canopy of leaves, resting on a branch and letting my feathers unruffel.

"Jeez..." He breathed, shaking away the daze and looked up to find me. Even though I'm pink, I blend in with foliage very easily.

"Don't ever pick me up! I hate it!" I quietly whined, he laughed.

"Alright, shorty," he chuckled. "You win this round. I'll see you around, hot stuff."

With a smirk, he turned and disappeared into the mass of people moving like an ocean through Main street.

Silence gripped me for the longest time, and I finally breathed, "What just happened?"