No longer searching for signs of passing, and no longer conserving energy Lucas raced to return to his abode. Each step sprayed slush in every direction, the rising sun corresponded with warming air and by the time the sun had fully risen the majority of the previously crisp white snow had degraded to muddy slush. And by the time noon had occurred there was only mud.
It was late evening when Lucas arrived in familiar wood, he was panting the whites of his eyes showing vividly. Quivering legs slowed as Lucas took his last few steps in a journey of many miles through difficult terrain. The wet snow had clung to his feet and legs, sticking in clumps to his cape. Each step had been slick as mud clumped and slid.
As he regained his breath Lucas ignored his still sore legs and began to walk. He watched around him, searching again for signs of movement. The guard will reinforce the village, soldiers would come in. Stop him before he gained his revenge against those who had cast him out. He would kill every elf in the village, he would ensure those who had removed him from his home would suffer. And X, the blasted elf who had carved the symbol of the Devil on his chest, would suffer more than the rest combined. More than he had already with the death of his companion. And Lucas would bring that suffering about, with no hesitation, no mercy.
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Elves of Wood and Storm (Book one of The Guardians series)
FantasiaI've been penning this story during my boring class periods, so I doubt I will update often. But for when I do this is the story of Lucas outcast among elves, and his tale of revenge. P.S. With the way it's going this will end up as a sort of preque...
