《A Brother’s Wrath》


 Pluviophile

    Chapter 1 Pluviophile


    The sky rumbled as I reached the peak as if it had been waiting for me. It was cool and the air was charged yet strangely serene. The mountains cast shadows over the already darkened colors of the lush range. Blackened clouds churned, thunder rolling within. The wind tousled the black bristles of my beard with a low whistle. The rounded rock beneath me felt plush compared to the gravel of the mountain path that led here. It probably would have been wise to wear shoes. The sky rumbled once more, indicating that its brewing was not a bluff. I took that as a sign that I should return home before the rain soaked me sick. The grass was wet with dew even before the light sprinkles of rain began to fall. My cotton tunic began to be coated with cold specks. It wasn¡¯t a long way downhill to the cabin I lived in, humble as it was. The door creaked as it opened and barked a thud as it closed. I peeled my freshly wet tunic over my head and discarded it on the hardwood table. The fire made it much warmer inside and I pulled a chair beside it. The warmth it brought on my face made me want it on my back as well. I heard footsteps and saw Dove come in from her bedroom. Her skin was rather pale, yet her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold. Her raven black hair fell over her eyes long and a little frilly. It was unkept since she had nobody to impress all the way out here.


    ¡°Hi.¡±


    Dove had a rather high voice, one known to me all my life. I glanced at her and saw her familiar amber eyes peering into my own eyes of the same color. The clich¨¦s about twins being able to read each other¡¯s minds felt true with her. She spoke,


    ¡°Do you just like to stare or is there actually something going on in that head of yours?¡±


    The reality of her sisterhood broke through my reflective affections and I ran a hand through my slightly damp hair to push it from my eyes.


    ¡°You¡¯re so charming all the time, Dove. It¡¯s a wonder you don¡¯t have any friends.¡±


    I tease her as I try to hold back a grin.


    ¡°You¡¯re such a wretch. I don¡¯t have any friends because we live in the moutains.¡±


    Dove crinkles her nose as she smiles. I see her pull up an old wooden chair and sit next to me, matching my gaze into the fireplace. The thrumming of the rain against the roof began to pick up and fill the silence. Dove held her palms out in front of her, studying them carefully. Wisps of smoke rose from them with a hiss as a thumb of cerulean flame came to life. I looked at the blue hue it cast across her features with a hint of worry in my throat as I spoke.


    ¡°You know I hate when you do that. What if someone saw?¡±


    The patter of the rain grew louder.


    ¡°Nobody¡¯s going to see, brother. You¡¯ve made sure of that.¡±


    The lines of her eyes were narrowed with annoyance and I scooted forward to the edge of my seat.


    ¡°I know I have. We¡¯re out here for your protection.¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    She closes her palms, snuffing the flame with a hiss.


    ¡°You can be so overbearing, Sparrow. I¡¯m a grown woman.¡±


    ¡°Just because you¡¯re a grown woman doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m going to stop taking care of you. I¡¯m your brother.¡±


    ¡°How could I forget?¡±


    The rain picks up even further. I looked out the window to get a better look at the storm. The wind whistled as the earth began to flood downhill.


    ¡°Do you think everyone in the village will be alright?¡±


    Dove joined me in looking out the window as the storm grew ever more tempestuous. Lightning continually lanced across the gray horizon like brushstrokes, the rough peaks of the mountains framing its bleak and beautiful movements across the skyline.


    ¡°It couldn¡¯t hurt for us to go check. What if it floods?¡±


    She said in a low tone. I felt a little bit of a thrill in getting to go out into the storm during the rain.


    ¡°You should stay here, Dove. I¡¯ll take care of it.¡±


    Dove huffed, growing impatient with me.


    ¡°I¡¯m coming with you. If it makes you feel better I¡¯ll stay close and we can travel out of sight but I won¡¯t stay.¡±


    ¡°Dove-¡°


    ¡°No. I get to do this.¡±


    She plucks her cloak off the rack and drapes it around her, then turns back to me with folded arms.


    ¡°Reckless girl.¡±


    I grab my own cloak and set out into the rain, much to my sister¡¯s delight. Part of me was irked at the idea of having her along, but I had kept her locked away for a long time now. I suppose I owed her this much. Our boots squelched in the mud as we made our way through the chill of the rain and down the gravel mountain path.


    *


    In the nook of a valley between identical peaks of granite were the many thatch houses of the village. I walked past a lopsided wooden arrow sign which said in faded black lettering, ¡°Underview¡±. The ground crunched beneath each of our footsteps and my short, dark hair grew damp from the rain. I rubbed away the water from the side of my bearded face worriedly as I watched for any unkind eyes that might be fixed on Dove. Her hood shaded her features and she seemed to be keeping quiet.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t look flooded to me.¡±


    I comment. As we turned a vine covered corner there was a crowd of people in the town square gathered around a lowered banner. In the middle of the circle was a broad shouldered middle aged man clean shaven and well kept wearing silvery half plate armor. His hands were wrapped firmly around the rope poised to raise a man with a noose tied to his neck up alongside the banner. The accused man wore heavy robes and sat on his knees. His eyes were distant, as if there were something heavenly or fascinating in the place of the rock face he watched so intently.


    ¡°Sparrow, who is that man in armor?¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t say, sister¡­¡±


    The man spoke with a dignified, yet furious voice as he scanned through the crowd.


    ¡°TODAY WE DO OUR GOD A GREAT SERVICE! A SWEET JUSTICE WILL BE SERVED AND WE ARE ITS ARBITERS, GOOD PEOPLE!¡±


    He jerked the rope downwards and the accused man gargled as he was pulled forcibly to the tips of his toes. The rope kept tension and the red banner caught wind, accenting the accused man¡¯s struggle against his bound hands. I flinched at the sight and leaned down to mutter in Dove¡¯s ear.


    ¡°We should leave. This was a bad idea.¡±


    ¡°We can¡¯t just stand here and do nothing!¡±


    The accuser continued and my pulse began to pound.


    ¡°WHAT A PERFECT HATRED FOR US TO EXACT! WHAT A BLESSING TO SPILL THE BLOOD OF THE WICKED!¡±


    He pulled down on the rope even further, suspending the robed man into the air by his throat. His legs kicked desperately as his bound hands pawed uselessly at the noose around his neck. For a moment it seemed he would die, but the armored man let him drop back onto his knees to wheeze for breath. The villagers grunted and cheered calls of approval at the man¡¯s torment. Dove looked up at me desperately.


    ¡°I¡¯m putting a stop this, now.¡±


    She starts to push through the crowd but I snatch her wrist roughly.


    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡±


    Her eyes are pleading and my grip loosens ever so slightly. I listen to the beating of the wind battered banner which nearly drowns out the gargles of the accused. I begrudgingly look back up to see the man being raised sharply to the very top of the banner. The wind and rain tousle the hair of the armored accuser as he stares up with squinted eyes and his forearms fully flexed with the weight of the hanging man. With a final choked breath, his fingertips crackle for a moment with pale lightning before he falls limp. The crowd of villagers jeer as the body falls back to the earth with a thud crying out in joy over the death of the apparent mage. Dove is covering her mouth with both hands in shock. My eyes look over the crowd and a few do not seem to cheer as brazenly as the others.


    ¡°He¡¯s a Mageslayer. Dove, please, let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    My voice is hoarse with urgency and I¡¯m physically pulling on her arm. The jeering gets louder.


    ¡°That¡¯s for the sons you stole!¡±


    ¡°Good riddance!¡±


    Dove is still hesitant and in shock but she eventually nods and begins stalking away from the crowd close to my side. I glance back around my shoulder and meet the icy sharp gaze of the well kept Mageslayer. I quickly look away and shudder, taking my sister¡¯s hand to walk faster. Good riddance indeed.

 Fight or Flight

    Chapter 2: Fight or Flight


    I tugged my cloak tighter as I returned to the village the next day. Dove was safe back at home. I was scarcely willing to leave her side after what happened in the square, but we were low on supplies. I wasn¡¯t going to let her back into town after seeing there was a Mageslayer here, so I went instead. The earth was thoroughly soaked after yesterday¡¯s storm and my boots reminded me of such after every squelch through the muddy earth. The thick morning fog stung my eyes and I was forced to blink several times to see the cottages of Underview.


    In the town square the mage remained hanging, though now pale and gaunt. The scene seemed almost like a macabre art piece with the red banner of Farrow waving steadfast despite the additional weight. I shuddered to think what the Mageslayers would do if they found Dove. I made my way across the cobblestone streets passing the mostly elderly pedestrians. That was the good thing about Underview, it was a retirement town and nobody could be bothered to ask too many questions. So what on earth was that Mageslayer doing here of all places? There was a general goods store on the corner with a porch and awning that were coated in chipped brown paint. I opened the narrow door and hit my forehead on the way in, growling in irritation as I rubbed the bruise. Behind the counter was a shrewd looking balding man in his mid sixties that bore blonde mutton chops and bushy eyebrows.


    ¡°Mister Sparrow Thatcher. Still too tall and burly for your own good eh? Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re still my favorite.¡±


    I continue to rub my head, managing to summon a polite smile in turn.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you say that to all the other customers.¡±


    He places his small hands on the counter.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare.¡±


    We both chuckle lightly as I dig around in my satchel for a few bronze coins. I toss them on the counter and go through the store to pick up the same breads, cheeses and vegetables I bought regularly. I snatched a sack from the counter and began to pack it with what I needed. I noticed the storekeeper put on his glasses and pull a book from under the counter out of the corner of my eye. I pause thoughtfully.


    ¡°Gerand?¡±


    ¡°Yessir?¡±


    ¡°Do you know anything about that Mageslayer from yesterday? Why is he here? Surely there aren¡¯t any more mages in Underview of all places.¡±


    The door opened and an elderly man entered, shuffling to the stocked shelves. Gerand adjusted his glasses, checking on the old man in the back before lowering his tone and leaning forward.


    ¡°No, I hear there are.¡±


    I could feel my breath grow a little more shallow.


    ¡°What do you know?¡±


    Gerand lowers his voice even further to a near whisper.


    ¡°The hanged mageborn? Apparently he was with the Mage¡¯s Order and had the tavern keeper marked. They were gonna take him in the night for their experiments. I¡¯m glad they strung him up in time.¡±


    I pull the bag of supplies over my shoulder with narrowed eyes. It was good that they weren¡¯t onto Dove, but still, a Mageslayer showing up to kill a mage right under the nose of yet another mage seemed like too much of a coincidence. I needed to look into this.


    ¡°Right¡­Well thank God for the Mageslayers then.¡±


    Gerand nods gravely.


    ¡°Yes, yes. Thank God indeed.¡±


    ***


    The tavern was lit dimly with hanging lanterns as men and women drank scattered and solemn amongst the many tables. The atmosphere was warm, yet it was probably the least festive tavern I had ever seen. I set down my recently purchased supplies on an empty chair and sat a few chairs down from a hulking cloaked man. The ghoulish, twenty something year old tavern keeper was cleaning a glass with mournful eyes.


    ¡°What can I get for you?¡±


    Each word was low like a moan.


    ¡°You were targeted by mages, yes? Do you know why they were looking for you?¡±


    The tavern keeper blinked slowly at my abruptness.


    ¡°Well that¡¯s quite a way to start a conversation.¡±


    I took a breath and tried to check my worry and urgentness. It wouldn¡¯t do Dove any good if I ended up arousing suspicion by asking too many questions. I should try to keep quiet.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard the rumors that¡¯s why the Mageslayer is here. To root out mages that were looking for you. If that¡¯s true I want to know why you of all people, and I want to know where the Mageslayer got his information.¡±


    The hulking figure took a long, exaggerated swig from his drink but I largely ignored it.


    ¡°Sir, if you¡¯d like a drink I¡¯ll serve you a drink. But I¡¯m not in the business of telling fancy stories. I heard the same rumors and I¡¯m guessing they¡¯re just that. Rumors.¡±


    I huff in exasperation.


    ¡°Well maybe I¡¯m just being paranoid then. Uh, about more mages being in Underview, that is.¡±


    The hulking figure set down his drink heavily and scooted over next to me. He cast back the hood of his cloak and it became apparent that he didn¡¯t look large because of his physical size but rather because of his armor. It was the well kept Mageslayer from yesterday. He ran a hand through his swept back brown hair. His face was perfectly clean shaven accentuating his already sharp features even further. He looked more like how I had imagined a prince to look like than how I imagined a Mageslayer. He spoke.


    ¡°Yes, we¡¯re all paranoid about the mages aren¡¯t we? But you¡¯re right about one thing. I¡¯m here to root out mages and mageborn.¡±


    My mouth went dry as he revealed himself and I spoke without thought.


    ¡°You¡¯re the Mageslayer.¡±


    He took another drink.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    ¡°That I am, but you can call me Worthy. There¡¯s no need to be alarmed, those in my creed¡¯s chapter had a lead that led me to here, that¡¯s all. They¡¯ll be here soon enough to tie up loose ends. As for the rumor, it¡¯s false. This man is not a target of any mage.¡±


    I try to maintain my composure.


    ¡°How do you know that?¡±


    Worthy found his drink empty as he brought it to his lips. He shook the last few drops out onto his tongue before waving a hand over at the unimpressed tavernkeeper.


    ¡°Because I¡¯m a Mageslayer.¡±


    He scooted out of his stool and pushed it in afterwards. He tucked his hood back over his head and left the tavern. The tavernkeep relaxed a little as he left. If Worthy was still here an actively hunting for more mageborn things were worse than I thought.


    ***


    Dusk settled over the muted grasses of our cabin in the mountains. The sun was beyond sight, but the sky was still painted with the multicolored majesties of the recent sunset. A light mist had settled low to the ground obscuring the most distant peaks but remaining clear enough to admire the beauty of the range. I sat on the edge of Dove¡¯s bed looking at all of this through the window as she wrote something on old parchment with the edge of a charcoal. She yawned with her arms outstretched, arching her back for a moment before settling.


    ¡°I really should have come with you today.¡±


    She muttered, setting her hands in her lap. I didn¡¯t look at her, I just kept my eyes focused on the landscape.


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to be executed like that mage.¡±


    She shook her head at my comment.


    ¡°Honestly, could you be any more pessimistic? I don¡¯t even know why I put up with you at this point.¡±


    It grows darker outside and the crickets began their night time symphony.


    ¡°What do you want from me Dove? Do you want me to just let you die?¡±


    Dove opens her mouth to make a snarky remark but stops herself. Instead, she set her charcoal and parchment aside on the nightstand and scooted over next to me, speaking hesitantly like it was difficult for her to get the words out.


    ¡°No, I don¡¯t want that. I see all your efforts, brother, and I love you.¡±


    I flinched from the emotional whiplash she had just inflicted on me, but she spoke again before I could respond.


    ¡°I hate it so much. I hate this curse inside of me. I hate what it does to me and I hate what it¡¯s doing to you.¡±


    Her eyes were big and expressive as she spoke like great ambers. I cup my hand over hers as the day grows steadily darker.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I want to help.¡±


    Dove shakes her head furiously like she had just swallowed a bitter medicine.


    ¡°Don¡¯t apologize! I just want you to be happy again. You¡¯re so paranoid all the time now. Where¡¯s my sweet brother that used to pick me wildflowers to cheer me up when I was sick and run from his crushes because he was shy? I want to see that brother again!


    I see a selection of lanterns in traveling through the misty dusk, their forms barely visible in heavy travel cloaks.


    ¡°I¡¯m still here, I swear. I just need to get you somewhere safe, away from the Mageslayers and then I¡¯ll take better care of myself. I swear it, sister.¡±


    Dove sighs lightly with pursed lips as I squinted to get a better look at the encroaching figures and my stomach fell at the realization of who they were.


    ¡°You better not be lying. I can¡¯t stand seeing you like this much longer. I just-¡°


    I shush her as I see the lanterns grow brighter and the figures behind them grow closer. Each of them had steel weaponry on their backs and the glint of half plate mail reflected in the darkness. Their voices were all male and they were discussing something.


    ¡°Mageslayers.¡±


    Dove whispered hoarsely. We looked at one another with mutual horror.


    ¡°Hide.¡±


    We each sprinted through the house until we reached our shared study. I jumped onto the table and ripped open the trap door leading into the attic. Dove jumped to try and grasp the ledge and hoist herself up but it was out of her reach. I scampered down knocking over a bottle of ink which shattered onto the floor and wrapped my arms around her legs. I practically threw her into the attic and slammed the door shut right as there came three knocks at the door.


    ¡°Coming!¡± I yelled as I brushed the glass underneath the desk and wiped up the ink with a roll of parchment. My breath was labored and shaky and there came another rapping at the door. I stood up and took a moment to compose myself, smoothing out my hair. I approach and open the front door a crack, peeking my head through.


    ¡°Can I help you?¡±


    Their features were all darkened by their hoods. Some even wore black masks that covered the bottom half of their faces. The foremost had a long weathered face with a nose that hooked over his bushy black beard.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the girl?¡±


    I blinked sheepishly, my amber eyes looking between the armed men.


    ¡°If I had a woman I wouldn¡¯t be living out here, I promise you that.¡±


    The front man growled and front kicked the door open, sending me sprawling back onto the floor with a breathy grunt. The men all flooded into my cabin and started searching through every cupboard and room in the house. One of which pinned me down and drew a dagger from his hip. I groaned as he planted his knee forcefully in my stomach and pressed the cold flat of the blade to my neck. My heart was racing, my blood was cold. This had to be a nightmare that I couldn¡¯t wake up from. I looked at the man who had me pinned. He looked dreary and familiar somehow, but the knife to my throat prevented me from caring.


    ¡°What do you people want?!¡±


    I shout, feeling my throat vibrate against the cutting edge of the dagger. None of them responded. They were utterly diligent in their searching. I saw one of them open the door to the study and my whole body was lit with adrenaline.


    ¡°We can talk about this! We can work something out, please!¡±


    I heard a thud and a feminine shriek coming from the study. My breath sapped out of my lungs. I saw the front man from earlier carry Dove out as she kicked and struggled violently, screaming like a banshee.


    ¡°If you hurt my sister I¡¯ll carve you open by the throat! I¡¯ll kill every last one of you!¡±


    I roar in rage. They press her down by the back of the head into the hardwood floors and she kicks evermore as they tie her up with a thick rope.


    ¡°Sparrow please! Please don¡¯t let them hurt me!¡±


    The man atop me presses his knee in harder, making it difficult to breathe, let alone respond. Dove was weeping uncontrollably, snot running down her upper lip as she tried in vain to slither to me. But I couldn¡¯t do anything. My own eyes blur with tears. They were going to kill her. They were going to kill my sister. My sweet twin sister. My blood. My pride. The crown of my life. Dead. I turn my head and our eyes meet. four linked, tear soaked ambers. I nodded slowly to her and her gaze began to fill with dark assurance. She flipped her palms to the ceiling and the veins in her forearms seemed to sear with blue plasma, embers licking up her wrists until she cried out fiercely and sulphuric blue flames erupted outward through the whole house with a deafening whistle. I covered my head, trying to shield myself from the white hot heat and choking ash that seemed to permeate the whole house now. The steel blade relieved itself from my neck and I looked up to see the men scattered. Some of which were patting out their burning clothes or rolling on the earth in agony. Dove was now sitting on her knees breathing heavily with more embers smouldering from her ankles and wrists where she had burned away the ropes that once restrained her. I looked around the now blazing house and picked up a dropped round shield along with a short sword halfway out of its scabbard.


    ¡°We have to go.¡±


    I tied the sheath to my hip and set the shortsword in it. I grabbed Dove¡¯s hand despite how weak she now seemed and sprinted out the back door, pulling her with me. We fled from the burning cabin right as the roof caved in on itself with a crash. One of our hunters barked something to the others and they thundered after us in hot pursuit. The waxing moon lit the grassy mountain path that led us to higher ground. Dove was wheezing with exertion.


    ¡°Come on! Don¡¯t give up on me!¡±


    Our boots crunched through the wet dew, the fog masking our escape. The chirping sounds of the night had gone totally silent, the only living noises were our labored breaths as we fled from our pursuers higher, higher, and higher still. The lights had disappeared into the mist as a naturally formed tunnel right under the rounded peak of the mountain came into view a little ways up. The path had long since faded and we scampered up the unmarked knoll into the tunnel. We both sat down to catch our breath, now in pitch blackness, save for the moonlight at the far end of the tunnel. There was a sheer cliffside visible there, almost like a balcony made by years of weathering. Dove sobbed a few times to herself, halting only due to her need to catch her breath.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry brother¡­I¡¯m so sorry¡­.i¡¯m sorry¡­¡±


    She continually whispered her remorse, unable to stop herself nor quench her shame. She held her head in her shaking hands as she whimpered hysterically. Footsteps. Several sets of footsteps. Heavy. Approaching quickly. I looked around the corner and there was already a spear being thrust at my head. I yelped and shuffled straight back from the thrust just out of its reach, posting out a hand to stop me from losing my footing.


    ¡°Dove, run! I won¡¯t let them near you!¡±


    She tried to flee out the way we came but her path was blocked by more of the Mageslayers. Their lanterns lit the tunnel all the way through as the long faced bearded one shouted to the others.


    ¡°Stay with me! Don¡¯t give them a way out!¡±


    I drew my shortsword with a loud ring just in time to parry the next thrust of the spear. My attacker was the same dreary eyed Mageslayer that had me pinned, but he wielded his spear from the middle, holding it out to his side as he walked imposingly forward. He brought it up over his shoulder to thrust high and my shield matched its trajectory only for him to redirect the strike across my calf. I cried out in pain limping further back into the tunnel as the Mageslayers formed a solid barrier of strangely wielded spears. Dove and I were forced to creep back all the way to the edge of the tunnel where the large flat ridge was as the formation slowly approached. The drop off was so far below that falling would spell certain death for anyone. The beams of the moon pierce through fog once we were forced out of the tunnel. I limped in front of my sister with my blade outstretched to the six aligned Mageslayers. Dove herself drew back her right hand, conjuring whispering blue flames in a crackling sphere despite her breathlessness.


    ¡°You won¡¯t have her!¡±


    I shout defiantly through gritted teeth. I could feel the blood gushing out of my calf and onto the hem of my pants. Six men and six lanterns didn¡¯t so much as slow their march.


    ¡°You¡¯ve all brought death on yourselves!¡±


    Dove shouts as she sends forth her cerulean fireball. It whistles through the air, far more controlled than the previous eruption, and finds purchase amongst the middle Mageslayer, blowing fragments of stone out before them, obscuring them so thickly with dust and smoke that even the lanterns seemed to be snuffed. My sister and I feel a moment of hope and relief. The dust settles and each man is utterly unharmed. The man in the center has the blunt end of his spear raised high with a white jewel on the end shining and gradually sucking in breezes of the blue flame that still drifted about, until eventually the flames all dissipated inside the gem. I had never known a Mageslayer to do anything like that. The white gem¡¯s glow subsides and the wielder steps forward. It¡¯s the dreary eyed one.


    ¡°You may live if you hand her over. We don¡¯t want this.¡±


    My grip tightens on the hilt of the short sword.


    ¡°I¡¯d die a hundred times before I gave you my sister.¡±


    The dreary eyed Mageslayer stepped forward into the light and my pulse quickened. In the moonlight his features were more easily distinguishable. This was the ghoulish looking tavern keeper from earlier today. He speaks.


    ¡°It will be better for her where we wish to bring her.¡±


    Dove raises her strained voice defiantly.


    ¡°Where would that be? The gallows?¡±


    Despite our bold words the two of us were clearly terrified and the men began to push us back further and further to the very precipice of the cliff. I couldn¡¯t let them kill her! With a final deafening cry I lunged toward the tavern keeper and thrust my shortsword forward. Before I could reach him I saw a white flash from his open palm and lightning zipped out in a lance, hitting right on the brunt of my shield. It shattered into splinters, sending me flying through the air off the cliff. I felt the shortsword slip from my grasp. I saw pity in the eyes of my killer, and horror in the eyes of my sister. All seemed frozen, all seemed slow. It was cool and the air was charged yet strangely serene.


    Until gravity ripped me to the earth.

 Fledging

    Chapter 3: Fledging


    The wind rushed over me as I started to accelerate groundward. My heart was racing with adrenaline and my face was being numbed by the cold. I couldn¡¯t think clearly, and yet every nerve in my body was fraying with energy. My clothes were being battered with percussive flapping, and I struggled to get my eyes open as the wind seemed to dry them out. Not that it mattered. It was totally dark in the freezing void that pull me forth so forcefully. I felt myself tipping forward in the air. My breath caught and I began to flip head over heels repeatedly. The downward pull of gravity was so strong it was sickening. I felt the night¡¯s chill sharpen and I grew damp when I broke through the clouds. The moonlight became clear and I could see the silver outline of the clouds growing further and further away. My head finally cleared and the reality of the situation began to dawn on me.


    I was going to die.


    The now dimly lit mountain range grew closer and closer. Was this really it? Had everything in my life been leading to this moment? Why was I not afraid?


    Dove was going to die.


    The images of the men who took her flashed through my mind. The shock in my sister¡¯s eyes. I thought I was supposed to protect her. Now they had her and would hang her just like that mage in the village. My breath grew more shallow and I could make out the details of the sloped mountains. I was looking down at my grave and yet all I could think about was Dove. Choking and gasping while she swings from the gallows. The glee of her captors. Her tear stained cheeks. Her pale lips begging me for help. Somewhere inside of me, something deeper than my self preservation, something beyond my breaking heart, was the pinpricks of a struggle. The stars blanketed the encroaching world and I grew closer to it still. It was more than struggle. It was a rejection of what was before me. A rejection that like dry tinder I knew would give birth to an immutable flame. A flame of conviction. A brother¡¯s love. A brother¡¯s wrath.


    I tucked my knees into my chest to tilt toward my flipping, then extended my limbs outwards with an arched back. I stabilized myself and spread my fingers as far apart as possible, seeking to slow my rapid descent as much as I could. The thickly wooded pine trees lining the mountains came into clearer view and I grit my teeth together. I had to protect my sister. I yelled as loud as I could and swung my feet to be beneath me. Moment of truth. I crashed through the treeline, splitting through branch after bending branch. I sought to grab onto them but each skinned out of my grasp. A thicker branch came into view for a moment below. With a crack my knee collided with it. I cursed in agony and shut my eyes tightly. I soon fell past the canopy of the evergreens, the ground was meters away. I held my legs out before me to soften my fall.


    Then my bones snapped underneath me and my head collided with a jutting rock.


    ***


    Mind splintering pain seethed through my whole body as the morning came. I moaned out to God for mercy. My eyes immediately began to sting with shameless tears as I writhed in the mud. My head was throbbing. I reached up to touch the place of impact. No, my head was bleeding. It was bleeding quite a lot by the look of the blood on my hand. I sat up and looked down at my broken legs. They were swollen so purple that they were practically black, and they were gushing blood. Sinewy muscle tissue was torn in various places. I was in too much agony to be sickened by the sight. With a whimper I grasped the muddy earth and dragged myself forward about an inch.


    I thought of death once again. Bleeding out from internal injuries wouldn¡¯t make for a very romantic end to my rescue mission, but the thought grew warmer every moment. I dragged myself even further forward, my legs dragging behind my torso like dead weight. I was growing weaker. I felt cold and pale, and each little movement made breathing difficult. I needed to save Dove, but willing as I was, my body was giving out. I managed to crawl to the edge of a downward slope and at the base was a river flowing through the evergreen forest. There next to it was a canoe covered in termites, or perhaps ants, it was difficult to tell from this distance.


    ¡°One thing at a time...¡±


    I gasped out, though knife-like pain shot through me from the grinding of my fractured bones against me as I slid my lower half a few inches closer. The closer I got, the further away the canoe seemed. At this rate I might get there by nightfall. I halted for a moment to breathe. I looked over my shoulder and saw that I had left a slick red trail over the crushed pine needles. I needed to pause to try and tend to myself. I wouldn¡¯t be of any use to Dove as a corpse. I unclasp my belt and fashioned a tourniquet as best I could around the leg with the busted knee. I had only ever read about this being done in storybooks, so I wasn¡¯t sure how this was going to help exactly. I tightened the belt as closely as I can and more tears sprang to my eyes. I tried to sit still to get the pain to stop but it was shooting constantly. I reached for a nearby branch and bit down on it as I carefully released my grasp from the belt.


    After a few labored breaths I broke the branch at its crotch to make it straighter. I pulled my tunic from my torso and ripped it into two even strips. I lined the branch up with my leg and wrapped it to fashion something of a split so that my bones wouldn¡¯t slide against themselves. With some effort, I did the same to the other leg as well. I layed my head back and let out a guttural groan. This was surely what Hell would be like. The sun now hung in the middle of the sky and it shined directly into my eyes. The warmth seemed to dry the dirt packed blood running down my right temple. My head would not cease in its aching. I turned my attention to the canoe once more and resume my crawling. It turned out that the makeshift splints were virtually useless when I wasn¡¯t totally stationary. My arms grew packed with mud and my wounds festered. I pushed away all despairing thoughts and kept my eyes transfixed on my reason for living. I had no other choice but to power through this. I reached a steeper part of the slope.


    I stretched my hands out onto a sandstone to lower myself slowly but it broke under my weight. I tumbled over my shoulder down the slope and both splints broke in perfect harmony as I slowed to a halt. I again cursed violently as the consequences of my recklessness immediately wracked my whole body. At this point I was hyperventilating and sweating freezing droplets. I could barely see two feet in front of me as my vision was growing dark and blurry. I pushed myself up onto my hands and clambered forward into the canoe. I had hoped reaching this point would be a lot more relieving. The nearby river ran downhill and was only a few feet away. The water swept over the jutting rocks with white capped ripples. It seemed to be going a lot faster than I was comfortable with.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    I grabbed the oar and used the broad head to push off a tree trunk and guide the canoe into the water. It landed with a splash and was quickly overtaken by the current. I managed a weak laugh as I felt the boat pick up speed. The wind started to brush across my face after so long of moving through the mud like a worm. I lowered my oar into the water and guided my vessel through the middle of the river, weaving around the little obstructions. I let out a victorious cry as the river broke through the tree line and led into a broad lake. The water was sparkling with sunlight and the reflection of the wooded mountains stretched across the surface. I let out a sigh, despite the aches of my body. The canoe dropped from the river into the lake with yet another loud splash. I knew I needed to get medical attention as soon as possible. I could feel myself growing light headed. I knew that there was a logging village within a few days travel that was close enough to the river.


    ¡°A few days might be more than I have¡­¡±


    I pushed away the dread I wanted to feel as I racked my mind for some kind of solution. There wasn¡¯t anywhere else that I knew of where I could find medical supplies. I wasn¡¯t a herbalist so there was no chance I could forage for anything. If I tried to stave off my death with amputation I would likely meet it at the hands of blood loss. I looked at my reflection in the subtle ripples of the lake. My short hajr and thin beard were matted with blood and dirt and sweat. I was used to looking at a young man in my reflection but what I saw now was someone rather haggard.


    ¡°I¡¯m way out of my depth.¡±


    The scent of smoke filled my nostrils before I could start to despair. I scanned the edge of the lake and sure enough a light column of smoke was rising through the air. After stumbling across this canoe and now finding the sign of human activity in the middle of the untamed wilderness I was beginning to think my desperate prayers had been answered. Or perhaps the smoke was from an outlaw camp and I would be plundered for my shoes. Either way, it was my only chance. I rowed with renewed vigor  toward the smoke. The lake led into another river as I got closer to the smoke. Soon a cabin with a big stone chimney came into view and I used my oar to guide the canoe onto land. The boat was firmly beached. I set down my oar and draped myself over the side of my canoe weakly to catch my breath. Each time I inhaled I could feel a sharp pain through my whole body and each time I exhaled I felt like I was going to gag. I heard the door of the cabin open and footsteps approached. I kept my head bowed and my hands braced on the boat¡¯s edge.


    ¡°Oh my God¡­¡±


    It was a young woman¡¯s voice. I had to try and coax her into helping me. God, the pain was really growing unbearable now. I spoke in a now raspy voice.


    ¡°Please, help me. I can explain everything and¡­repay you somehow. But right now I can¡¯t do anything but beg. So¡­please.


    I felt strangely vulnerable all of the sudden, like everything I had felt up to this point was felt through a suit of armor. Now, though, It was abundantly clear that I was broken right now and I was banking everything on this woman¡¯s kindness. Of which she owed me none. The young woman spoke again, her voice was cool and low.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll help you. Everything¡¯s going to be fine, alright?¡±


    I looked up at her for the first time. The woman had thick chestnut brown hair cascading down her shoulders. She had a diamond shaped chin and pink lips, but the most prominent thing about her was her eyes. They were a deep blue and accented with long feminine lashes. My admiration was cut short by another dull throb from my injured legs. I moaned out as she tried in vain to hoist me up by the waist. She was rather stout, probably about 5¡¯9 and a touch more muscular than the common woman, but I was probably fifty pounds heavier than she was. She took a step back and thoughtfully assessed my state. The woman went back inside her house and came out with an old blanket. She dragged me onto it by the wrists then dragged the blanket with me on it into the cabin. I wished I was coherent enough to feel humiliated. The inside of the cabin was dark, lit only by the fireplace which illuminated the homely decor. With a grunt I felt my body be hoisted onto the bed. The woman grabbed a bottle from the counter and popped the cork off and she brought it gently to my mouth.


    ¡°Drink.¡±


    She muttered insistently. Whether I wished to or not didn¡¯t matter as the purple liquid filled my throat. My eyelids drooped and the world around me immediately grew dark.


    ***


    I awoke in a stone brick dungeon. I was naked, save for a loincloth, and chained to the dark walls. Everything was tinted in red light that seemed to shine from around the corner. I could hear a muffled voice, strained and screaming.


    ¡°It hurts! It hurts!¡±


    My throat went dry in terror as I recognized the voice.


    ¡°Dove! I¡¯m coming!¡±


    I tried to speak but the words came out as a strained whisper. I shook the chains violently but my wrists were firmly locked in. I couldn¡¯t make a sound no matter how hard I try. I saw the dreary eyes of the tavern keeper who kidnapped Dove stride around the corner basked in the strange crimson hue. I felt a deep, uncontrollable fury and spoke in a guttural tone.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to hell, and I¡¯m the one who¡¯s going to send you.¡±


    Once again, I felt the words form in my throat, but they came out as whispers. He stepped forward until his face was mere inches from mine.


    ¡°Your sister is ashamed of you. You were never strong enough to save her.¡±


    His eyes began to turn bloodshot and his voice turned into a duplicity of voices. All of which I didn¡¯t recognize.


    ¡°Weak.¡±


    ¡°Complacent.¡±


    ¡°Selfish.¡±


    ¡°Direct your hate to the one who deserves it.¡±


    ¡°You let your sister down.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s only one person to blame.¡±


    I leaned toward the man fearfully and screamed at the top of my lungs. Only a strained whisper. Until finally my voice broke through and I heard the dry rasp of my own desperate scream.


    ***


    I shot up, suddenly in bed at the woman¡¯s cabin still screaming out. I saw the woman who saved me jump in alarm with wide eyes, a kitchen knife in her hand. I paused and looked around, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. I felt unbearably weak. The covers felt itchy against my warm skin so I cast them off and shifted over to hang my legs off the bed. The woman seemed to be preparing some kind of meal. She set down the knife she was holding and spoke.


    ¡°Bad dream?¡±


    I studied my legs carefully and wiggled my toes. I didn¡¯t feel any pain at all aside from a light soreness. The strange thing was that there were pale jagged scars running from my toes all the way up to under the seams of my small clothes. I lifted my previously injured legs up in bewilderment.


    ¡°Uh¡­yeah. You could say that. How did you fix my legs so perfectly?¡±


    The woman crossed her arms and walked out of the kitchen to be closer, but she avoided meeting my gaze.


    ¡°You were delirious when I found you. Your injuries probably weren¡¯t as bad as you remember. Do you mind if I ask what happened to you?¡±


    She was changing the subject, but I elected to not press her on it just yet. Regardless of how she managed to do it, this woman had saved me.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­kind of a long story.¡±


    I say with uncertainty. If I told her everything that happened she might wish I hadn¡¯t because Dove was mageborn. It wouldn¡¯t be fair to make her guilty by association. Not to mention she probably wouldn¡¯t believe me. I could hardly believe it myself. The woman pulled a chair up next to the nightstand and sat down.


    ¡°Maybe we start with names then. I¡¯m Tristana.¡±


    Her hand was outstretched. I shook it.


    ¡°Sparrow. I suppose I should thank you for saving my life.¡±


    Her lips tilted into a lopsided grin.


    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re very welcome. I¡¯m preparing something from my garden to eat if you¡¯d like to stay and join me?¡±


    Her smile was infectious. I returned it helplessly.


    ¡°I would like that, actually.¡±


    She returned to the kitchen and busied herself over preparing the meal.


    ¡°If you¡¯d like to tell me that long story of yours, I¡¯d love to hear it.¡±


    I note a folded tunic and set of pants right at the foot of the bed and I quickly slip into them. I sit at the table uncertain of what to say.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if that would wise. For your sake.¡±


    I hoped to myself that she would get the hint. Her eyes only flickered with curiosity, however.


    ¡°Now I have to know.¡±


    I shook my head and sighed. I supposed that I did owe her this much.


    ¡°If you say so. But don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you.¡±