one

They entered the kingdom from the skies. Millions of them on black reptiles with long necks and leather wings. From my studies as a child, I would've thought them wyvrens, but they were dark like mud, and wyvrens were light-colored.
The screams echoed the limestone walls, and filled the valley with fear. In an instant they had the castle hostage, and the king was murdered in front of us.
The monsters wore dark armor, painted with a coat of sticky blood. Inside their helmets were pairs of black eyes. Some lept from the flying creatures, others rode in on large black steeds who had the same dark armor, and the same empty eyes of black.
Being a thief from the streets, I knew my way through the stronghold's sewers. When the first wave hit the castle, I stowed away beneath a grate in the ground. I followed the sewers to the field where the workers were in a panic. I didn't stay long.
Several men in armor dropped from the sky into the field and started attacking once they hit the earth.
I felt a sharp pain enter the flesh of my back, and was suddenly aware of the weight my skin and muscles held the object. I cried out, and fell forward, feeling suddenly dizzy.
A heavy weight held me down for a moment, straddling me, but I rolled, and pushed myself from the ground to run.
I didn't stop running until I caught the mare who was galloping wildly toward me, whinnying and snorting her fear. I grabbed her reigns and tried to gain her trust before swinging myself on her back, and steering her toward the line of trees I could see over the hills.
It would be a few days ride, but I had a feeling it was the only place I could get away from the attack.
I pressed the heels of my boots into her flank, and we were off at a dead sprint. I kept my head low, to keep my long blonde hair from whipping me in the face. It was hard enough to see through the thick breeze.
Even from a distance, I could still hear the screams of the kingdom. Tears burned my eyes but I kept my mind on escaping to warn anyone else I could that a darkness was coming.

After a few days, the throbbing in my back slowed us down. I realized the wound would get infected if I didn't get help, but I didn't know where I was going. The mare planted her hooves at the edge of the forest, and refused to take a step further.
I was on foot. When it got dark, I stopped and made camp.
As a boy, I'd heard stories about the forest being haunted by a witch who brought the dead to life. But the creatures she brought to life didn't have souls. They were monsters, and they prowled the woods under her command, taking travelers and eating them. Turning them into monsters.
Naturally, being older, I was against the belief in such things, but I knew it wouldn't be safe to travel the woods alone at night. Especially with an arrow in my back.
The first matter taken care of, besides starting a healthy fire, was to remove the arrow. Unable to see it, I knew it was going to be a struggle. I snapped it carefully by the entrance of the wound so that it would break inside me. Then I slowly slid the arrowhead out of the wound, muttering in pain under my breath.
Luckily the arrowhead was rounded, so it slid right out, instead of being barbed.
I heated up the blade of my dagger which I kept at my belt, and pressed it onto the wound, causing it to clot and close. That would stop the bleeding, but there could still be an infection.
That night I caught a squirrel and made myself a fast dinner, then I stomped out the fire, and climbed a tree to rest.
I woke up before the sun rose, and continued on my way. As I moved further into the forest, the air became crisp, and it was even starting to snow.
This seemed impossible, as it was only July.
But snow started to fall in little whisps in front of my face. I moved further and it turned into a flurry. The ground was icy and crunched under the sole of my boot. I shivered slightly.
Eventually the snow thickened, and I was in the middle of a blizzard. However, I also found that I was on a trail that twisted and turned around through the forest.
This I noticed because it was obviously trodden over.
My stomach fluttered happily, and my pace quickened.
I didn't know where the trail led, but I was very happy to have found it.
I heard a couple of low howls from a few yards behind me. That wasn't what scared me. The series of gut-wrenching snarls that followed made the beat of my heart gallop. I took off at a run, hoping whatever was eating behind me was preoccupied.
The crashing of snow told me otherwise.
In an instant I was on my back, looking up at three very mangled hounds with empty eye sockets. Their rotting teeth were dripping with fresh blood, and their lips were torn, in some places the lips were torn off.
But I didn't have long to look, because they tore into me with tooth and claw. The splash of red mixed with white made me pass out. I was thankful for passing out, because I knew I would die here.

two

The silver stag grazed peacefully, his light coat camoflauged him from the predator downwind of him. He felt content that he wouldn't be disturbed this day.
How very wrong he was.
Paanthura could see the still figure of silver, and knew right away it was a stag. She felt confident being positioned so perfectly. She shivered, and eased her skin into her hunter form.
A dark but muscular cat. Sleek, and graceful, but strong.
The midnight blue fur she wore as a cloak was her own skin. It fused into her pores as she became the cat.
When she was transformed, she shuffled the dirt beneath her claws, and adjusted her hind legs. She waited only a second, to be sure the stag wasn't aware of her presence, the chase was throbbing in her head.
Her hind legs sprang and she bolted forward, over the underbrush and up the embankment. One more leap landed her on top of the stag. She dug in her claws, and took a quick hold on his neck with her jaws.
The deer bucked, and fought, but it was no match.
He only had a moment before she twisted her head hard and snapped it's neck. It collapsed under her, and only twitched once when she released her teeth.
Paan shuttered and her form shifted back. She pulled her hood back and shook out her mess of midnight blue locks. Her round, golden eyes were concentrated as she skinned the pelt from the stag.
She was a tall and thin figure with pale skin. She wore a spear on her back, made out of the tree her mother was, and daggers hidden in the leather armor at her waist, her thighs, her biceps, and her ankles. She had three thin silver rings laced into her right brow, and four pierced into her earlobes on eithar side. The cartiledge of both ears was pierced with a thicker, but smaller ring, and her nose held a sparkly silver jewel.
She wasn't able to finish the skinning before she heard the commotion down the steep embankment, along the trail.
A figure was sprinting through the snow, but he was overcome by a necrohound.
Paan slid down the hill, pulling her hood back over her head. Her heart was conflicted.
Then the figure cried out in pain, and the shiver of change ripped through her. Her bear form was the most powerful.
She made up the distance easily, and took the first hound out with a swift paw.
The next two leaped around her like scared angry puppies, but she cracked one of their heads into the hard dirt under her paw. The next jumped at her throat with angry teeth. and though it caught, she managed to rip herself free, leaving only a small laceration behind. This dog she ripped in half.
When a necrohound is killed, it's body pops and forms only a puddle of blood.
Being undead, Paan refused to kill them with her teeth. The last thing she wanted was the taste of rotten body in her mouth. Hunting was much different.
She changed back once the three puddles were formed, and knelt by the mangled body of the man she was trying to rescue.
His breath was shallow.
He was no older than her, with long dirty blonde hair, and a thick set of facial hair the same color. He was pale with a down-turned, thin nose, and he was skinny. He had obviously lived on the streets, as his clothes-besides the lacerations the dogs had left, were tatters.
She didn't sit here long. A soft crunch of snow made her aware of someone coming toward her.
"I should've expected this."
The figure was tall, and her skin pale and transparent like a ghost. You could see every vein in her body. Her hair was long and knotted, but white. Her eyes were milky and cold. Her fingers were long, and rotted toward the tips.
"Thurn." Paan said, straightening her posture.
"Paan." The witch smiled, but it made Paan shiver. "What're you doing here?" She glanced around at the puddles of blood, and the smile vanished.
"I was just hunting." Paan started, but she didn't want to finish.
Thurn leaned down to look at the figure in the snow by Paan's feet. She tilted her head left and right, like she was examining a piece of meat, then she stood slowly, her bony body slithered like a serpent. "What is this? You kill my pets for a human?" Her voice was gravely like a river, and accusing.
"He didn't know what he was doing." Paan said softly.
"Does it matter? Surely, one who's own mother was murdered by the same monster she saved would know better." She mocked, taking a step around Paan. "And you know better than to hunt on my territory."
"I have forgiven the men who murdered my people." Paan tightened her lips. "He needed help, and he stumbled onto the wrong path."
Thurn smirked. "My dogs marked him. That makes him mine."
Paan swallowed hard, but said nothing.
Thurn continued walking. "You hunted my stag, killed my dogs, and are planning to steal my supper. What were you thinking? Don't you know who I am?"
"I am deeply sorry for hunting from your territory and killing your-" Paan shuddered at the thick puddles of blood before continuing: "but I don't think he meant to come here. Please let me take him back and figure out why he came here."
Thurn chuckled. "Do you think I can let you go for everything you've done?"
"He's not even dead yet!"
Thurn took up the space between them in a breeze. Her face was fury, and the crisp cold air suddenly felt colder. "It doesn't matter! He was marked on my trail, that makes him my property!"
Paan flinched. "What happened to you, Thurn?" She said softly, trying to difuse the situation. "You used to be the winter queen, not the ice witch."
"I found power, Paanthura." Her face became serene, almost hungry when she spoke. "Necromancy is an art, only for the most powerful. I sacrificed to have this gift. And it was worth everything I gave up."
"You play with death, that isn't art, it's a nightmare." Paan argued.
Thurn stepped back. "In death we are more powerful. We have no humanity to hold us back from doing what we must. I can destroy a whole race with an army salvaged from a graveyard. Don't tell me that doesn't tempt you." She was smiling proudly.
But Paan was still unaffected. "You can find dead bodies anywhere, Thurn. You don't need this man. Just let him go, and I will pay for what I've stolen."
Thurn thought this idea over a moment. "You will get me what I wish, or I will confront Tarus to get it."
Paan bowed in agreement. "So long as it doesn't involve entering another dimmension, I will provide what you ask of me."
A cruel half smile took up the side of her mouth. "I want a wyvren egg." She said darkly.
Paan's eyes widened. "What? Why would you have any use for something like that?" She cried. "You know those are dangerous!"
Anger removed the smile. "If you don't give it to me, I will put you under a spell that creates your worst nightmares to come to life and haunt you for the rest of your being!" Her voice echoed against the hills around them, and rattled in the trees.
"Alright!" Paan agreed, holding her hands up in defense. "I will find you a wyvren's egg. But please, keep it under control."
Thurn straightened her hunched shoulders, and smiled again. "I will give you a year to aquire the egg and bring it to me, but no more. I know how difficult they are to come by."
Paan shuddered again at the thought.
Thurn continued back down the way she had come. But not before turning around and giving her last warning. "Don't hunt in my woods again."
Quickly, Thurn tossed a canvas wrap over the man's body. It was meant for the deer meat she hunted, but there would be no room for it.
She lifted her hood over her head and transformed into the bear shape, then she pulled the limp body over her shoulder and took off into the forest.
After a while, the bear form got heavy, so she shivered into travel form which was a dark-furred doe.
She made it back before the sun came up, then switched to bear form to climb the trees to the secret village her people built into the canopy. She followed the wooden bridges to the hut she was looking for, then pushed inside. She went to the back of the hut, through gossamer curtains to a cluster of thin pads with white bedding. She shivered and changed shape to get the man onto the bed.
His eyes fluttered open for a brief moment. "The skies." He gasped before passing out again.
Paan frowned, and pushed him onto the bed.
"What is this?" The bird-like voice came from a small figure flittering by Paan's ear.
"You have to help him, Ora, he's badly injured."
Ora was small and thin with short burgundy hair that stuck out in every direction, and the same colored eyes. Her transparent wings had a glittery glow, and her armor was completely made of an autumn maple leaf, including the stem which was wrapped around her legs, holding her daggers.
"Oh do I?" Ora folded her arms over her chest "Where did you find him?" Out of habit, she hovered over the body, and assessed the wounds.
"The less you know, the better." Paan told her. "I'll take the heat for this, just please, save him." She stared hopefully into Ora's golden-specked burgundy eyes.
After a few moments, Ora agreed. "I'm not going to make any kind of promises, he's very weak."
Paan stared at the man's face for a long moment. His small mouth was dark with the first sign of hypothermia, and his skin was waxy already. She bit her bottom lip.
She stayed and helped Ora cut away the tattered wool fabric of his tunic and trousers, then cleaned him up and dressed him in an antibiotic medicine and silky gauze bandages. They tended the wound in his back, and after a few hours, he was clean and warm.
Ora told Paan to go home and rest, as it would take a few days for the antibiotic serum to eat the bacteria growing in the wounds. And after that was done, they would need to close the wounds, and he would have to go through a tough workout to gain his strength back.

three

The next few days were very long, especially because Paan still didn't know how to tell Tarus that she had to go find a wyvren egg to make up for hunting on Thurn's territory and killing her guard dogs. On top of that, she had saved a human from being necrohound meat.
She racked her brain for days, stopping in to help Ora tend to the man's wounds. On one occasion, she had thought so deeply, she bumped into Storm, an elf who she'd rescued along with his younger brother Cloud when the human king came to power.
Storm and Cloud were both frighteningly tall, and had sun-bathed skin, and deep blue eyes. Cloud's hair was longer, and a lighter shade of blonde, while Storm kept his cut short.
Their little renegade group had many different races, though it was mostly made up of elves. Kulaidry who was a nomad was also an elf. She was from the north, however, and was born in the more civilized and strict culture. She was tall with long straight blonde hair, and round blue eyes. She often didn't laugh when Cloud and Storm made jokes. Carthus was also from the north, but he rarely talked to anyone but Tarus. He was tall with pale skin, a small head with large ears, and blue eyes. And then there was Tarus who was half gargoyle, half dwarf. He was short with dark hair he cut close to his head, a broad, but muscular form, and a long straight nose. One of his ears was higher up on his head than the other, but only slightly. He was definitly and odd creature.
And then there was Paanthura, who was a dryad. The last dryad.
When her people were attacked, they took their final form as trees. Paan was only half dryad, so she was free to escape. And she did so, but not before her mother gave up one of her branches as a weapon to protect her only daughter.
Paan met Tarus and Carthus, and they rescued everyone in their camp when the humans left them nowhere to go.
"Paan, I need to speak with you." Tarus had caught her offguard as she made her way toward the stable above village.
She flinched, and stumbled, nearly tumbling off the wooden bridge. But she caught herself, and turned around to a very confused leader. "I've been meaning to come see you, Tarus." She said, swallowing.
He frowned. "Well, allow me first: the council has called a meeting, and I must attend, but I need a third man." He started. "We never really established rank under Carthus, so I'm offering the position to you."
It felt more like a command. "Of course, Tarus, I would be honored."
"I think we should call this rank: first rider."
Paan smiled. "I second the motion." She agreed. "I have important matters to speak with you about."
Tarus raised a brow, his straight mouth even straighter.
"A few nights ago, I went hunting, but there was no prey for miles." Paan started. "I crossed into Thurn's forest, and shot a stag, but I didn't return with it, because there was another burden I had to return with."
"You're going to make me regret giving you this honor, aren't you?" Tarus asked.
Paan felt guilty. She hated disappointing Tarus. Even though he wasn't the one who saved her, he was as close as her own kin. "Thurn's necrohounds were hunting something that night also. A stranger who accidentally stumbled onto the trail. He hadn't meant to, and if I hadn't killed the dogs, they would have destroyed him."
Tarus thought for a moment. "What do you mean a stranger?"
Paan hesitated before answering, glancing around at her comrades, who were just waking up. "He's human." She said.
Tarus pinched the bridge of his nose. "What did Thurn ask for in return?" He asked. "I'm assuming there was a deal made, as she let you leave with him."
"You assumed correctly." She felt even guiltier. "She asked for an egg."
Tarus smiled. "An egg? What would she want with an egg?" Then his smile was gone. "What kind of egg?"
Paan glanced up at him. "A wyvren egg." She replied. "I didn't press for further details."
Tarus shook his head, and looked away, then turned back. "Listen, it's too late now to do anything about that, and I still need you to come with me to the meeting. I'm going to guess she gave you a time frame to aquire this egg, so I will help you any way I can with that. Where is this stranger you took from the trail?"
Paan took his arm, and steered him toward Ora's. "When I saved him the dogs had done a bit of damage, and he had an infected arrow wound. He still hasn't woken up from the healing process, but Ora is a miracle faerie."
He stared at Paan, confused.
"

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 17.05.2012

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