Chapter 5: Hunting Forest
It was late afternoon, drifting into evening, and the sun had long since passed the zenith of the sky, dipping behind the palace walls. The fading light welcomed uncertain chirps from insects of neither darkness nor light. As the dimness grew, the sound of birdsong began to diminish into only a few sparse chirps, and the sounds of Hostia began to grow; the beats of Mantis wings and Beetle wings hummed to life.
Aelis recognized the buzz of insect Hostia – this would be her first time venturing into the Domerul Forest unchaperoned, and she drew her swords. Her companions followed suit; Harry hefted a great battle axe onto his shoulder, and Serdic relieved his back of an equally great claymore.
Aelis turned to look as Serdic heaved a sigh. “It’s finally happened,” he said with a frown on his face, “we’ve finally been sent on some obscure mission and left out to die. Didn’t I tell you it would happen, Harry?” His voice was full of mirth. Somewhat inappropriate for the given situation, thought Aelis.
Harry looked at him with disapproval, his thick stern brows knitting together, “Serdic, it may be better to leave the joking aside.” Serdic began mumbling about something about being a killjoy, but Harry stood fast in his conviction. The more they spoke, the more Aelis thought resembled counterparts – squabbling brothers almost; Harry was serious, his posture rigid, speech polite, hair combed and parted, while Serdic was playful, sporting a charming smile and stylishly groomed hair while always moving about.
“—but at least we’ve got a pretty damsel to look after.” Serdic slipped closer, ignoring all personal boundaries. Aelis realized that their conversation had become lost to her and focused her vision upon Serdic, taking a small step back.
Aelis glared at him and turned way when she saw the light of quasi-recognition in his light brown irises. Then he stated what she dreaded. She dared to think upon the looks about their faces if they found out she was the one they let through, unwittingly labeling her as a Latroci. “Hey, Harry. She does look familiar, doesn’t she?” Aelis mentally cringed. She wouldn’t be deported, or at least she hoped not, if the Guard found out, but there would be some heavy fine or flaying or perhaps a lifetime of servitude. And none of the above really tailored to her fancy.
Harry shot Serdic a warning look, “Yes, Serdic, but it’s not polite to stare.”
“Fine, but I would never forget such a pretty face.” Serdic seemed to give up on his questionings. And somehow, Aelis found his reply to be somewhat hypocritical. She rolled her eyes – he was obviously another good-for-nothing womanizer, and she’d seen her fair share going after Rosalia. Adjusting her grips, she moved ahead, not wanting to engage in needless conversation.
Amidst Serdic’s indignant whining, Aelis caught the clunking of a different metal. “Wait, miss. I’m sorry for Serdic’s behavior,” Harry stepped in front of her successful stopping her stride. “I’m Harry, and that’s Serdic,” he bowed bashfully before continuing, “but probably already figured that out.” Aelis couldn’t help but feel her own resolve crumble in his clumsy wake.
“I am Aelis,” she said quickly and challenged the former guard, “and I assume that you’ll be apologizing for hindering my travels.” Harry seemed to shrink at her jab to his courtesy. “Unless this is important, I will be on my way.”
Serdic took the chance to catch his friend’s blunder, leaping with utmost energy into her path. Again. “Oh, but it is important. I wouldn’t tarnish my reputation for forgetting woman’s face, Aelis.” He tested her name. Aelis thought she felt some bile rise to the back of her throat. Serdic implored her again, “Won’t you humor us? Have we met?”
She placed a hand on Serdic’s steel-plated shoulder. He blinked confusedly and somewhat gleefully. Aelis shoved him aside and scoffed as he clunked about for balance, the remaining light glinting upon his full plate armor. Harry moved to steady him and Aelis rounded on them both with unexplained hostility. “Humor you?” Her voice came out louder than she intended, leaving the two men to stare, dumbfounded. She softened her tone – it really wasn’t their fault in asking who she was – “Humor you,” she repeated minding her tone, “you mean pretend that we have met?”
“Oh, that would be fabulous,” Serdic exclaimed and took her hand, bowing to place a peck upon its back. Aelis swallowed a gag. Although Serdic was interesting, to say the least, she preferred the company of the quiet Harry. Speaking of whom, Aelis heard Harry shuffling uncomfortably, perhaps feeling slightly left out. She took her hand back with haste, a bit of distaste straightening her lips into a tight line.
“Yes, and the pleasure is truly yours,” said Aelis lightly. Her tone hardened, “But none of us will be having any pleasure if we don’t complete this task.” With no more willing words, Aelis moved on.
Upon following her, and Aelis assumed this, Serdic could not spend a moment without speaking. And so she merely ignored him when he asked if any in their party knew where they were going. And it was true that none of them really knew their direction, but something compelled Aelis forward.
As they moved, the forest seemed to watch their movements; it was as if the branches leaned in to listen to their mumbled conversations and clumsy plodding, and it seemed that all of the little holes and crevices were filled with watching eyes and listening ears. When there was a snap or a crack Harry and Serdic would start and shift closer to one another. Aelis would have slapped herself in the wake of her comrades’ amazing courage. She knew better than they. She knew that sound from the unseen was better than none at all.
But even for her hunt-trained ears, Aelis found the whisper of winter-burned leaves speaking of an unknown and unwelcome presence in the forest. They moved with as much silence as they could muster; the eerie hush made Aelis feel like a troll lumbering through an aisle of glassware. Eventually the weighted silence of the forest made even the chatty Serdic stop his flapping jaw.
Two days passed since they were thrown into the forest, and it seemed to be always night as branches were so thick, they had not need for leaves to blot out the sun – the three examinees had said little as time progressed; only speaking when it was necessary. The Hostia encounters were juvenile, the majority of critters being lesser faeries and their enchanted moths. It was the forest itself that proved to me most troublesome. They had woven their way towards the center of the forest, following Aelis’s lead. Sometimes Aelis thought she had cleared a tree rood, stepped over it even making sure that her second foot had cleared, but it was like the trees were filled with mischief, raising their roots to catch her foot. Serdic and Harry didn’t have any more luck as they tumbled, clamoring to the floor.
The feeling of being watched had eventually crawled its way to the back of her head; it was always there, but Aelis had gotten used to it. Something, now stopped her, her rustling footsteps, lighter than her companions’, halting at an enormous aged tree circled by a ring of thick vein-like roots. But this tree, greater than the rest, reached out its still green-leafed branches, spreading its grasp overheard, was not bare. Its base was grown with ferns and littered with colored leaves and fungi which shrouded the trunk in a miniature forest of its own.
Something bid her to listen. Aelis whirled around as the sound of a low hum brushed her ears. “Did you hear that?” She wasn’t really asking them. Aelis didn’t really expect their city-muted ears to pick it up.
“Hear what,” Harry muttered grimly. Aelis was pleased it was him who answered; she had soon learned that he was better at appropriating his emotion.
“The buzz.” Aelis couldn’t describe it as anything else. And there it was again, continuous this time – the buzz of wind grazing her ears.
“Oh just wonderful,” this time Serdic spoke. “The scrying witch has gone mad.” He stuck his claymore into the earth, making the forest shudder in anger.
“Shut your babbling,” Aelis growled and shot back, “I can’t hear with all the noise.”
“What are you hearing anyway?” Serdic threw up his hands in frustration and sighed.
“I already told you.” She frowned as a strange sweet aroma filled her nostrils and prickled fatigue through her muscles, making them cold and numb. “Poison,” she warned – these neurotoxic hallucinogens she had only heard about through the tales of her hunt parties; some people go insane and some die of sapped energy, their bodies falling limp upon the forest floor to be fed upon alive. It was a mistake, she judged, bringing her hand to cup her mouth and nose. But still the air refused to stay in her lungs as she breathed.
Her heart raced partly with panic as she heard Harry groan and Serdic grate on his teeth. But, she knew, her heart pounded in frustration. And she thought of Rosalia. It wasn’t unheard of that examinees were to disappear on their missions. Many did not return and their families were left to grieve. She willed her legs to hold, but failed, falling heavy to the humus rich floor, and she heard harry drop next to her, grunting. Serdic ground his teeth audibly as his eyes shifted back and forth quicker than a flutter of moth’s wings.
Aelis thought to apologize in her mind. She felt the skin-warmed silver that Rosalia had given her against her chest. Dying couldn’t be so bad. She already had once before, so she pitied Harry and Serdic – Harry a little more as Serdic would be lost in his own mad ravings. Rosalia’s playful smile flashed through her mind.
“You know, Aelis,” Rosalia chastised with her hands folded and her face flushed, “dying has made you too accepting of death.” It was a clear night when they both had enjoyed a celebration of their fourth anniversary in Biblos with sparkling drinks and a couple mugs of ale.
“But what else am I supposed to do? Eventually I’ll die again,” Aelis giggled and flopped her back onto the roof of the inn. “Best be prepared for it.”
Rosalia laughed back curling against Aelis, her head on the hunter’s shoulder; it had become her favorite spot. Rosalia was warm with drink, and Aelis didn’t know whether it was the buzz or the slight petting that Rosalia had taken to her stomach that had her heart thundering. But it seemed that Rosalia had no idea as she was unable to control her incessant giggling. Aelis listened as Rosalia said through gasps of air, “But, but, then I’d miss you so!” She attempted her sarcasm, but failed as another wave of laughter washed over her shaking form.
“I’d make it a point to visit you as a ghost!” Aelis laughed.
For once Rosalia said nothing back, and Aelis turned to look. Rosalia seemed to have become lost in thought – she loses focus every so often when drink became involved, Aelis noticed. The hostess’s usually kept hair tousled about her blush-tinged face, and her full pink lips were slightly parted. And the blue – the irises of story-book oceans – they were unfocused as if elsewhere. Aelis tensed as Rosalia changed the pattern of the sweeps of her touch, drawing absent shapes through a light tunic upon Aelis’s toned figure. She tried to say something, anything, but only her heart pounded in her speechless lips’ stead.
They said nothing more that night. Rosalia had snuggled even closer, not perceiving how the distance between them had closed, leaving no room at all even for air. Perhaps Aelis could hold her alcohol better, or perhaps it was the alcohol that did it; she felt the gap close, felt her own breathing stop, felt the warmth of drink from Rosalia’s body, felt her nerves light up, and she felt the heat of the woman’s erratic breaths caressing her neck. Time did the odd thing of slowing for a while.
It was a slow gradual halt when Rosalia’s hand ceased their ministrations. Aelis found she missed it and noticed that her friend had fallen asleep, those hot breaths becoming warm and even. But the hunter had trouble sleeping that night and merely settled with holding Rosalia’s sleeping form closer against the cooler breeze of night.
But perhaps now her memory was skewed as she seemed to remember that long silence – there looked to be sadness laced into Rosalia’s giggled words, there looked to be unshed tears lost in those ocean blues. And then she thought; “I must be very selfish.” Again, the smile that defined a home for the hunter shot to the forefront of her mind. Her head raced with words as she said silently, “Then I must live if only to be selfish.” She willed her limbs to move, only earning a slight twitch of fingers. She willed and willed. Stand up. Stand up. She made it to her knees, shaking. Stand up.
A sudden warmth spread from the center of her hear to her limbs. Her hands, feet, arms, and legs drank gratefully the newfound energy that radiated from her scar. And she stood. Aelis came to herself when she heard Serdic blundering around hacking at all sorts of plant life and screaming something about a witch.
“You’re jerking us around.” He turned and glared at her.
“I’m not. Calm down, Serdic,” said Aelis coolly but still catching her breath.
Harry wriggled nervous. Though his body was more resistant to the poison than hers, by this point, he could only crawl.
“You’re just here to get us killed – we don’t even know who you are!” Serdic turned to Harry. “Isn’t that right, Harry?” He gripped the hilt of his sword.
“Serdic, don’t,” Harry warned and coughed bringing his arm to his cover his nose as the thick aroma grew stronger, his body fighting the weight of his armor.
“Get us out of here.” Serdic stepped closer, readying his sword at Aelis.
Aelis responded with silence. There was a haze in his eyes that Aelis knew.
Serdic grew hot with anger, his tone and voice escalating now. “You will show us out.”
“Stop it, Serdic. We’ll never get out this way,” Harry reasoned desperately.
Serdic swung his claymore in a clumsy horizontal arc but inhuman strength and speed. Aelis danced back over the ring of roots and closer to the foot of the tree, almost catching her foot upon one of their many protruding limbs. Her senses sharpened still registering the incessant uncanny hum as her eyes tuned to watch the torque of Serdic’s hips. She stepped to the side, predicting his equally messy horizontal swing, and every time he swung, Aelis hovered away, her blades like wings in her hands, and her feet quiet.
But soon, her back was upon the tree. Harry’s concerned yelling became little whines of protest in the background. Sweat poured from Serdic’s red-painted face as he swung a final time. Aelis ducked, and the sword lodged itself into the tree. The only sound now was Serdic’s grunting as he focused on ripping the claymore from the sturdy trunk, sobbing. Aelis’s eyes widened. The humming had stopped as soon as Serdic touched the tree.
“Serdic, get away from the tree!” As Aelis screamed, she shoved the mindless guard from the trunk just as a rogue blade whipped out to strike him dead. Her falchion rung loud as she narrowly blocked the stinging shot. Serdic lay motionless on the floor. But Aelis had no time to be sorry for knocking the poor bloke unconscious when he landed.
Aelis spotted the towering Mantis, once still lying in wait for its prey, swaying, watching her with unblinking eyes as it calculated her every movement against the background. It was a clever thing. Aelis smirked. It was using the low vibrations of its wings to rouse the poisonous mushrooms, and once the prey was snared, the Mantis would feed. She moved to raise her blades in defense. The Mantis was quicker and caught her off guard with its sharper movement detection. Aelis’s reflexes were forced to drive her to side-step.
She thought she had dodged the strike before the blow came to her shoulder and she felt warm blood flowing from the gash. The Mantis’s front legs were like whipping saws that sliced just through her leather spaulder. Aelis couldn’t revel too long in the creature’s grace as her sharp eyes caught another flash of lightning movement. In one graceful movement, Aelis stepped, the blow taken by the skillful parry of her main gauche, swung. But before she could strike, the mantis struck again, forcing her to parry with the falchion. And the seam upon that arm felt like it was about to tear open at the force of the strike.
The Hostia and Aelis exchanged blows. As she got used to the speed, her movements became more fluid – she floated in and out of combat, striking, parrying, striking, dodging – a waltz of feet; one could hear the ring of blades and the whir of missed swings in the air. And in Aelis’s tuned focus and the Mantis’s natural action, no one noticed Harry holding the moist earth over a rag over his mouth and nose. He had hoped the particles of wet dirt would filter the mist of shroom pollen, and slowly, he regained strength, hoping to help his comrade in battle.
Aelis noticed the sharpened sparkle in Harry’s eyes. Smart boy, she thought. He would indeed recover enough for a single swing. But her lungs were burning from the long exchange and her falchion arm slowing and shaking. The Mantis instinctually struck at her weakened arm, fatiguing it. Harry caught her eyes, and she knew she must maneuver the Hostia towards him before her arm gave out. Closer now. And closer still. They moved, the Mantis only focusing its soul upon her. Harry had crawled around the battle, keeping out of sight behind the insect and struggling up to his feet, preparing his axe, lifting it over head.
With one final burst of speed, Aelis brought her entire stance forward in aggression, cutting in arcs of all direction, landing her steps in precision. She would sacrifice defense to push, earning another blow upon her lower right arm. She lost grip on the falchion. Another blow to left thigh, toothed legs sawing through flesh. She lost footing and made a dive away as Harry’s rumbling cry rang about the forest, his axe driving through the Mantis’s torso in a spray of slime. He fell to the floor, out of energy again as his lungs filled with pollen.
Aelis lay gasping next to him, her wounds burning from the salt in her sweat and the grim from the floor. Something tugged at her heartstrings again. Chestnut browns shot open. It was urgent. Like she had to do something. Her muscles protested and she was sticky with blood. Aelis grunted and crawled towards the tree. There was a giant hollow in the tree, about seven hands wide and ten hands tall. “Harry,” she called in a hoarse voice. She got a moan in response. “Harry, get Serdic here.” An unwilling creak of metal signaled that Harry complied. She propped herself against the walls inside; at least they would have shelter.
After she caught her breath and staunched the wound in her shoulder for a bit, she noticed a stone overgrown with ivy next to her – no it wasn’t a stone. She crawled closer. It seemed to be smoother. The light was too dim to see. Harry had miraculously made it to the hollow huffing and puffing and finally fainting, but Aelis gave him credit. He had earned her respect as a comrade. His stamina was unparalleled in her eyes.
With both of her companions unconscious, Aelis cleared the weeds slowly. A final yank had the dried ivy rustling to the floor. Her heart throbbed almost painfully, but it seemed excited. This was it. She pressed both hands, stained with blood, against the surface. Something inside her named it a crystal of sorts, and how Aelis could hear such a thing was beyond her. But the coolness was soothing against her burning limbs, comforting the race of her heart – it was like the blood-organ had told her, “You found it.”
Before she could think about what she had found, a soft light pierced through the companions’ satchels – the rocks had started glowing, then they began brightening brighter and brighter, so bright that Aelis had to shut her eyes. But eventually the light burned through her eyelids so much that she had to use her uninjured arm to shield her eyes from blinding white.
And then it was dark.
Deviant Hearts Archive | Back to main index