Chapter 4

Feyth groaned and rolled over, cursing the pale sunlight streaming into her bedroom. She had never been a morning person. She could already hear the bustle of people leaving their homes outside. She groaned again, then leapt out of bed throwing the covers back in the process. She rapidly undressed and redressed into her white shirt and long grey pants. Today was the test.                                                                                                                                           

Feyth ran out of her room, shoving her way through the door and entering the main room. She could smell breakfast, the scent wafting towards her. It smelled delicious, but she didn’t have time to eat much. She leaned down to the table, grasped a bread roll in one hand and an apple in the other. Her father just stood there, watching. He knew the reason for the rush and was undisturbed by the disrespect of her actions. Without saying goodbye, she dashed to the front door, snatching her bow and quiver from the hook on her way. She slung both across her shoulder as she was walking. She closed the door behind her and walked onto the road.              

Feyth got caught in the rush and was swept away by the crowd. To her left she spotted a narrow alleyway, and weaved her way past the people to get to it. She dashed through it and emerged on the other side where there were less people. Living on the main road did have its disadvantages, but now that she had left the crowd, she could get to her mentor’s home quicker.                                                                                                                                                                          

She navigated her way past people, careful not to bump or knock anybody over. One person shouted at her and glared at her from behind, but Feyth simply ignored the person. Most people gave her hateful glances, it was a part of who she was. All due to the evil her mother had committed. Feyth wasn’t the same person as her mother. She had done many deeds intended to redeem her and raise her self esteem, but her efforts were to no prevail. Feyth was just one of those people.                                                                                    

She smiled at an onlooker, which only earned her yet another spiteful look. Feyth frowned to herself, quite disturbed. While some utterly abhorred her due to close relations with those whom her mother had harmed during the incident, some plainly showed distaste towards her. Feyth knew that those who merely disliked her had no reason to other than rumors that had been spread about her. She was thankful she still had friends like Reyah and her mentor who were either oblivious to the crimes of her mother or were loyal and unsuspicious of her.                                                             

All these thoughts clouded her mind, and she failed to see somebody walking out from an alleyway to her left. In a matter of seconds she collided with the person who let out a shout in surprise and anger. They both fell, crashing to the ground with oddly loud thuds. Dust coated both Feyth and the person she crashed into. Feyth hurt all over, her eyes burned from the dust and she was awfully confused. After shaking her head a little too clear it and getting a bearing of her surroundings, she gasped with realization.               

“Are you alright? I am so, so sorry!” she said frantically, looking at the person who she had crashed into. It was a young man, only a few years older than her. She was coughing and looked quite startled. Though he was in shock, he did not seem injured, or at least dangerously injured. He was probably bruised and hurting like her. He groaned and lifted his head and also shook it. She stood up and brushed the dust from her legs. She reached out her hand towards him, to help him up. He looked up at her and recoiled instantly.                                                                                                                                          

“Y-you!” he stuttered, obviously recognizing her as the horrendous Feyth! She rolled her eyes in frustration and pulled her hand back to herself.  “You can help yourself up,” she snapped, then turned and stalked off. She got the same reaction from most people, it infuriated her. She picked up her pace until she was jogging. She lifted her hood over her face, and made sure that nobody would be able to recognize her. That was plenty of hate for one day.                                                                                                                                       

 When Feyth had finally found her way to her mentor’s house, she rapped on the door, sending shudders through it. She made a mental note to make sure she was gentle next time so she wouldn’t wear down the door to the point where it would break. It opened up to reveal her mentor, dressed in his own hunting clothes. He looked down upon her, his blue eyes gleaming, but he was not smiling like he usually did, but wore a serious expression. Today was a serious day, no mistakes could be made.                          

Feyth pushed away all thoughts of the hateful residents of Solare, of Korin and of her sick father and focused all her concentration on the task ahead.                                                                                                                                                                

 “Are you ready to go?” She nodded eagerly, fully prepared for her test. The task was to bring back a deer, a raven and a mouse. To prove yourself worthy to be considered one of the town’s hunters. For each creature, you had to use different tracking and hunting techniques. To prove yourself you had to catch all three, or you would fail.                                                                                             

Feyth had hoped to bring back the deer for Korin, but if she were to hide his secret, she could not. Carrying a deer out of town would be suspicious, especially in Feyth’s case.  Her mentor would be following her, unseen but watching to see if she was ready or not, he would notice every mistake but she was determined to make no mistakes.                                              

“Remember, I will be judging you on your skills, dexterity and whether or not you complete the task. If you blunder through the forest and only just manage to bring back every creature, you will not pass. I do not doubt you one bit, but make sure you’re aware of your surroundings, and remember that I will be watching you. Always.” She nodded, affirming her understanding, she already knew of what was required, and she was fully prepared. She had no need to be reinstructed of the expectations. “If you fail, the consequences will be dire,” he finished quietly, hoping that nothing would prevent her success. If she failed, her life would be miserable, she would be distraught.                                                                                                                      

“When do we begin?” she said confidently. He began walking, in the direction of the forest. He beckoned for her to follow, made sure she did, then focused on getting through the crowd. As they walked, avoiding the many people, the smell of fresh bread wafted through the air and found its way to Feyth. It made her feel hungry, but she ignored the feeling and continued along. Her breakfast had been unfulfilling, the bread was stale and the apple bruised.                                                                                                                                    

The smell continued to tempt her until she could no longer smell it, but then she spotted a large cake resting on a window sill. It looked delicious, but then the person who cooked it lifted it down from the window sill, to where Feyth could no longer see it. Either they were purposely torturing her with the tempting food or it was simply coincidence. Though it was most probably a coincidence, Feyth could not help but feel depressed, realizing that she really shouldn’t have skipped a promising breakfast. She felt her belly rumble in discontent, but tried her best to ignore it.                                                                                                                                     

Soon they had left the village behind them, and were in the forest. The forest had changed, or so Feyth thought, since her last visit. It wasn’t as inviting as before, but rather the opposite. The trees creaked and groaned, as the swayed against the wind that was pushing against them. They threatened to topple, but their roots delved deep into the ground and kept them standing strong. The leaves were not so lucky, and were torn off the branches and sent swirling in the direction of Feyth and her mentor. She could hear the crackle of the fallen leaves underfoot, whilst they were still being blown past her.  It sent involuntary shivers down her spine. It only got worse.                                                                                                                                                    

As they were walking, suddenly, without any warning, the forest calmed and the wind stopped. It didn’t simply weaken, losing its original violence. It disappeared altogether, leaving the air to sit calmly, unmoving. Feyth didn’t notice the eeriness the forest had gained, but rather was pleased that she no longer found difficulty walking silently. Their pace became brisk as they headed closer to the forest’s centre.                            

Though Feyth was oblivious, her mentor’s discontent was rising. He had distinguished the change as a threat and was prepared. Something was wrong, the danger had become too obvious. He wasn’t usually so edgy, but he was tempted to turn and leave. Something was to begin and he would have preferred to be much further away. Instead, he stuck by Feyth’s side, he would see her through her test. He owed her that much. So, on they walked, fearful and oblivious, but both prepared, though for different events.                                                                                                                                                                

Feyth put her hand on her bow, then slipped it off her shoulder and knelt down. She brushed away a layer of freshly fallen leaves to reveal footprints. She was beginning her tracking, though without consent from her mentor. He was not upset by her actions, but he was still on high alert, until he realized that he could no longer be within her line of sight. He would have to watch her from afar.                                                                                                        

 He backed away from her, tiptoeing lightly and avoiding the leaves. He managed to back into the bushes while making little sound. He was still aware of his own surroundings, but he focused all his attention on his trainee. She had finished observing the tracks, and began following them. They were mouse tracks, exactly what she needed, she couldn’t believe her luck.                                                                                                                                                   

Feyth trekked through the forest silently. Stepping lightly but still walking quickly. She checked the tracks every few moments to make sure she hadn’t lost them. After a while the tracks led into a small hole, and no tracks led back out again. She crouched down and set her ear against the ground, just outside the hole. She could hear slight shuffling within the hole and could feel warmth, though a small amount of it, emanating from the hole. She guessed that the hole was only half a meter or so deep.                 

Feyth slipped on one of her black leather gloves, a gift from her mentor, and shoved her hand down the hole with her fingers outstretched. She grasped the tiny squirming body with great ease and pulled it out. Once it had left the hole, the mouse began to squeak and wriggle fiercely. She felt a smidge of pity for it, but she needed it to complete her test. She rested her hand on the hilt of her dagger for a few seconds, before ripping it out from its sheath and slicing the mouse’s throat. The mouse’s movement seized and it’s eyes glazed over.                                                                                                                              

Killing creatures like this was so simple, the concept had always brought Feyth great distressed. She detested killing innocent creatures that could do nothing to stop her. She placed the mouse in her quiver, for safe keeping. She wanted to take it back, not waste its life. She hoped her mentor saw her killing it, so she would not have to show him the lifeless critter.                                                                                                                                                                 

The next creatures were not so easy to hunt. Feyth decided after much contemplation, to track or search for a deer. They usually stuck with their herds, which weren’t often too difficult to find when time was taken to search for the herd. She had little hope of finding a raven in the current situation. Birds were difficult to find, hidden amongst the trees behind leaves. Usually she could distinguish the sound of ravens compared to other birdsong, but not a single bird let out a peep. Silence in the forest, not a good sign, but she was only concerned about not managing to find a raven.            

Feyth began her journey through the forest again, searching for signs of deer. She looked high and low, but mostly low, because she was searching for deer, not a raven. She was, of course, still on the lookout for ravens. If only some great miracle would grant her a raven flying overhead in sight. After around an hour, when the sun was close to its highest point, she noticed a trail of crushed bushes and broken branches. She sauntered up to it, careful not to make any loud noises. She wasn’t sure if the deer were near or not. She knelt beside one particular bush and brushed some leaves aside.                                                                                                                                        

 There were obvious tracks, deer hooves imprinted on the sandy ground. Mixed in with the multitudes of hoof prints were the prints of another creature that Feyth was uninterested in. The hoof prints were a lot larger than the other tracks, and from the size the prints were placed apart, the creature seemed to be running. Feyth suspected that the deer were being chased by a predator, causing them to run quickly without their usual agility. She began to study the broken bushes and shrubbery, and soon determined the direction the deer were headed and how fresh the tracks were.                                                                                                                                                         

Many of the branches and bushes were bent and leaning in a similar direction. The broken stems were still moist and seemed to have been broken not many hours earlier. Feyth knew the forest well and reckoned that the deer had gone to a nearby field, a clearing deer often went to graze. Within the forest there were many intervals, where parts of the forest were separated by a field. One such area was a large field, filled with tall grass that grew to the height of her knees. During this time of the year, it flourished with green blades of grass that sparkled with dew in the morning and glimmered beneath the light of the moon at night. Blue and violet flowers bloomed, usually occupied by bees and insects that buzzed lazily around. There were no bees in the forest, where she stood.                                

Feyth followed the tracks, the trail of trampled bushes and twigs until she had reached the field she had assumed they were in. Along the way, she noticed were the larger prints had stopped and lead off into another direction, proving that the predator gave up the case. The deer probably stopped running soon after the predator had stopped to catch their breaths, and probably to graze.                                                                                                                                     

Grazing in the field were eleven deer, three of them were bucks, two of them were fawns, the other ones were does. The bucks and does were keeping their distances, the fawns sticking to their mother’s like a bee to honey. The younger of the two fawns had clear, visible white patches on its rump, while the other’s was fading and two stubby antlers showed through its head.                                                                                                                                                       

 Feyth smiled to herself, adored by the two fawns that were frolicking in the grass, unaware of the danger she posed. The adult deer were all gazing across the field and into the thick of the trees. The other part of the forest was dark, but Feyth was baffled as to why the deer were so captivated. It wasn’t long before the two fawns noticed the apparent crisis, and shied away from their mothers, crouching into the grass and probably whimpering.                                                                                                                                            

Feyth could not sense the danger the way the deer could, but she was now certain that true peril was approaching. Maybe the danger was the reason why all the other creatures were silent and hiding. The birds were up in the trees, not singing in bliss the way they usually did. Though hiding in holes was typical mouse behavior, it was rare that no mouse could be found outside its hole, and no sounds were heard of small creatures.               

Feyth was completely certain that she was risking her life, waiting there. Either she hunted for one of the deer and ignored the cause of their fear, or she signaled her mentor and asked him what she should do. If she did, she would fail, but she did not wish to hunt the deer when they were so exposed and unaware of her. It would feel too cruel. One of the bucks fled, racing across the field with great bounds. It passed into the forest and continued until it was out of sight. The rest of the deer followed close behind, though the fawns had difficulty in keeping up.                                                             

Feyth watched the closest deer to pass her. In its black eyes she could somehow see fear and dread. All the deer were soon beyond her senses, and Feyth turned her attention to the opposite line of trees. It took her a while, but after observing she noticed an eerie golden glow that wavered and shook between different trees. The glow danced back and forth, growing brighter with every minute. Feyth looked up to the sky, a premonition clouding over her. Smoke billowed high above the trees, a dark haze that hung above the trees, rising further up and spreading towards her. Now she was sure, sure of the danger that the animals had sensed. This made them superior, whether they were intelligent or not.                                                                        

A forest fire had begun and it now raged through the forest, burning down the trees and plants. It blazed with ferocity unlike natural fires, but Feyth couldn’t possibly tell the difference. She only knew that it was fatal, and she was in its path.                                                                                                                          

 “We must leave, now!” her mentor shouted at her. He had risen from his hiding place when she had realized the danger. He had not been as vigilant as her, and had not noticed the fire until after she had. When he noticed her reaction, he too realized he had stayed too long. Only then had he understood her odd behavior. He clutched her arm and pulled her backwards forcefully. She stumbled into him before turning and full on sprinting.                                                                                                                                                                       

Feyth ran as quick as she could through the forest, her fear pushing her harder. Her mentor followed, though did not have legs like her, long and built for running considerable distances quickly. When she could no longer hear the thud of his footsteps, she spun around and watched for him. He caught up with her, but he was already affected by the fire. He was coughing uncontrollably and his eyes were watering.                                                         

“Quicker,” he gasped, in a raspy voice. He began running again and she matched her pace with his. By now, the roar of the fire was clear and menacing. Heat was building up behind them and Feyth knew that the blaze was gaining. She did not want to leave her mentor to die, but she did not want to die either. And what about Solare, what if the fire reached the village? It would be scorched and destroyed.                                                                         

 Feyth could not hold the tears back, but they evaporated quickly. She glanced behind her and gulped at the sight. Smoke made her vision blurry, but she could see flames flickering through the trees, and the light of the fire. It stretched wide across the forest, but curved around the edges.   Trees were lit up and burned into the sky, the ground was scorched and black and Feyth hoped desperately that she would survive. She turned her head back to look out in front of her but a moment after looking at the inferno. Ahead she could already see flames gathering around the edges of the forest, caving in around her. She had not known a fire could engulf in such a way. Her mentor thought the same, knowing already that the fire had not merely been caused by the sun lighting a piece of grass, or a hut’s fire going out of control. He knew full and well the cause.                                                       

 Far ahead of them the fire spread, surrounding them with its deadly fury. Feyth groaned in exasperation, it was all over. They could not possibly escape now, whether it was a natural fire or somebody being spiteful, unless they grew wings they were trapped and powerless.                                                           

 Feyth knew that the fire would reach the village, and probably burn it down, but she not only felt grief, but also remorse. If only she could have realized the danger of the fire sooner, and gone back to warn everybody sooner, she might have been able to save them. They ran until they could no longer bear the burn of the smoke in their lungs and the scorching heat against their legs.                                                                                                                                         

Feyth collapsed onto her knees with a grunt. Her vision was so blurry she could no longer tell her mentor from a tree, other than movement. Her head pounded and her body ached, and she almost went unconscious, but the heat was so intense it kept her from slipping into an endless slumber. Her mentor had also collapsed, but he had lain down onto his back and rested his hands on his chest. He was quite tranquil, for a man about to die. He did not wish to go down writhing in agony.                                                   

 “Feyth!” She smiled to herself, knowing instantly who the voice belonged to, and what it meant.                                                                                                     

 “Find us, please come…” Even her thoughts were weak and her feeble attempt to call for help only made her feel worse. The fire around her was enclosing around them, quickly depleting the amount of oxygen there was to breathe, and intensifying the heat. The golden light engulfed the trees, and finally Feyth closed her eyes, unable to hold them open any longer.    

“No! Are you alright? Say something!” Feyth coughed and choked, her strength faltering. She had nothing to say, it hurt so much. Then she felt something warm and soft wrap around her waist, and lift her from the ground. She was flipped over and placed onto something equally soft. She heard a hoarse grunt and her mentor was laid next to her. He had gone fell into an involuntary sleep, caused by his lack of holding onto consciousness. She couldn’t blame him when she had come so close to doing the same. She opened her eyes again, and tried to ignore the sting of the smoke in her eyes.                                                                                                                                                                      

Within an instant Feyth realized that not only were they flying, but also the expanse of the fire. Her vision was even blurrier than before, due to being amongst the rising smoke, but she could still she the burning fire, a bright light glowing below. Almost the entirety of the forest had been consumed by its destruction. In some areas, towards the edge of the forest, the fire had died down, leaving black marks, singed growths and burnt trees. The destruction was devastating.                                                                                            

 Feyth turned to look to her village and instantly wished she hadn’t. The buildings were ablaze, with no sign of stopping. Even from so far away she could hear the terrified screams of those in fear, and those who were burning. It was a massacre, many were dying and nobody could prevent it. A few tears pricked at Feyth’s eyes, but she held them back. She would not let this, this incident destroy her! I’m so sorry, Solare.                                                  

Korin! Where was he? She had heard his voice, and new that he would come for her, but what about now? Her hands travelled upwards, she ran her fingers through the soft fur that she was lying in. Though it took her a while, she realized that Korin had saved her and her mentor. He had come and flown them out of the fire.                                                                       

Feyth smiled with satisfaction, it must have been fate, that led her to saving him. Now he had returned the favor. She was a little surprised that he could not only fly despite being injured, but also carry two people on his back when doing so. It was actually very tranquil, up flying. Feyth attempted to tune out the screams and wails and tried to forget the ordeal. Sadly, it wasn’t as easy as she had hoped, and she could not forget. It plagued her every thought, so she simply accepted it.                                                            

“Thank you,” she whispered, patting the shoulder opposite to his injured side.                                                                                                                                                       

“I couldn’t leave you, could I? And I owe, well owed, you one,” he sounded rather pleased with himself. She nodded in agreement, but she wasn’t pleased the way he was. Sure, she was exceedingly happy and relieved that she was alive, but she had lost everything else, except her mentor.                         

“I just don’t know what to do…” she whimpered, no longer holding the tears back and allowing them to spill down her face.                                                

  

"Hey, don’t cry, it’s going to be alright,” he said, though he knew that she had plenty of reason to cry.                                                                                                                             

“I guess that now my father is dead… I guess I don’t have anybody that I know of left in my family.” Then they started their descent, slowly floating towards the ground a fair way from the still blazing inferno. Her father did little more than take care of her, but he was still her father. He may have been in deep melancholy ever since her mother and brother died, but she still loved him. When they were hovering above the ground, Korin beat his wings hard and landed softly, careful to not knock Feyth or her mentor from his back.                    

“Feyth!” a voice screamed with a mixture of glad and horrified emotions. Reyah ran to her, her small arms outstretched. Feyth was taken aback, she did not expect anybody else to have survived. Now that she thought about it, it made perfect sense. Reyah had been caring for him when they sensed the fire, and they had fled together. Korin went to save Feyth and now here they were. If Reyah had survived, then surely that meant…                                                                                                                                                            

“You look terrible,” the frail voice spoke from behind Feyth. Feyth couldn’t help but turn and hug the old woman.                                                                  

“I can’t believe you two survived!” Feyth beamed at Reyah and Shazkai.                                                                                                                                                                    “We were in the barn when we saw the fire, we got away just in the nick of time,” Shazkai murmured, her voice laced with angry. The woman was probably angry true to the fact that she had lost her hut, filled with her herbs and potions.                                                                                                                                           

“You got me out in the nick of time.” Feyth simply sighed.

~~~

Welp

I just finished editing the entire story, from start to finish and turned it in to my English teachers.

So now I will begin to upload it, for nobody to read. Nevertheless, I'm still pretty proud of writing so much in November. Sorry for any editing mistakes!

Chapter 1 //edited//

North & South
Chapter I

Feyth ran her hand down the smooth trunk of a seemingly ancient oak tree. The rough bark had been torn away by razor sharp claws. She was still a novice at tracking, but so far she had been performing to an adequate standard. Along the trail, bushes had been trampled down and flattened by large feet, possibly paws. Further along the trail she had been following, Feyth noticed a tuft of black fur tangled in a bramble bush. She bent down and freed it of the tendrils, surprised that it was soft and silky to the touch. Fur like this did not belong to many creatures, especially not creatures of this size and potency. Feyth stood up, the fur still in her hand.  A ferocious roar echoed through the forest, bouncing of the trees and reverberating until the sound died away, transforming back into the silence that had filled the forest. It was a frightening noise, used to ward of attackers, but Feyth was not interested in attacking the creature. 

Feyth immediately pinpointed the source of the noise. She took off delving further into the forest, dodging past trees and jumping over debris of fallen trees and uprooted plants. Something huge had come this way, the trail made that fact obvious and Feyth had decided that the creature was definitely a mammal, based on the evidence she had accumulated. Unfortunately, confronting or approaching large creatures could be quite a precarious business, they are highly dangerous and can be extremely unpredictable. Luckily for Feyth she had experience in dealing with such creatures and was quick enough to make a hasty getaway.  

Feyth continued to race through the forest, sprinting at an incredible speed that could be achieved by few ordinary humans, let alone a girl of the age 16. She leaped over the obstacles with graceful agility and acute accuracy. She did not realise how fast she was sprinting until she skidded to a halt, stopping abruptly at the edge of a dip, which reached deep into the ground. She peered down into the gaping crater and could see, clear as daylight, the creature she had been tracking. It was smaller than she expected. A swirling mist crept down into the base of the crater, clinging itself to the steep slopes of the side of the crater, and to the creature whom appeared to be injured. It was tangled up and the only sign it was alive was the steady rise and fall of its chest.  

It, the creature, was not difficult to track, creatures that aren’t moving usually are, but freeing it from whatever had immobilized it would be a task, worthy of a courageous person. Feyth was probably the only brave person from the village of Solare, a village of farmers and simple folk, all kind-hearted. The villagers would never hurt a fly. Why this creature was injured so close to Solare bewildered Feyth. There were no other towns, villages or cities nearby, only travellers could have hurt it, but that was too implausible to be true. Nobody visited Solare. She treaded cautiously down into the dip, in the centre lay the creature, in all his magnificence. He was a cyjur, a rare creature only found on certain occasions, such as the one that had presented itself to Feyth. They were only ever found if they were injured or dead. The one Feyth was ogling at lay on its side, traces of blood were scattered across the ground.

Feyth kneeled beside it and daringly ran her hand along his body, enjoying the feeling of it soft, sleek fur. Normal tigers did not have fur like cyjurs, but they were not special. Cyjurs had enormous wings, similar to falcons in shape and instead of having an ordinary tiger pelt, they had black paws and black tails. Despite their tigerlike appearance, cyjurs are no mere tigers. They possess abilities some can only imagine. They have uncanny strength, incredible speed and other rare abilities that are still, to this day, unknown by humans, kept secret over the centuries.  

Back when the population of cyjurs was plentiful, they were hunted by poachers for their fur and feathers. The population decreased drastically until there was only a handful left, in the wild and tame. Poachers can no longer hunt them, they can never find any. The population of tame cyjurs was even fewer than that of wild ones, cyjurs had wild hearts and rarely showed kindness to anybody. They were the most intelligent of the animal kingdom, they understood how to live in solitude and never needed anybody. Feyth couldn’t help but feel sorry for the one she had discovered. Its body was tangled in a fishing net, which it probably encountered while swimming in the town’s nearby body of water, Ourer Lake. It meant that it would not have had to struggle and tumble far before it reached the crater. 

Feyth removed her dagger from her belt and began to saw at the ropes that had snared the creature. Her dagger was sharpened to a deadly point, with a silver leaf shaped blade, a golden hilt and a small Arindorian jewel embedded in the hilt. Arindorian gemstones were worth a lot, due to their undeniable beauty. They were clear, you could see straight through them and had a silvery blue tinting. They had one, single facet and were perfectly round, if untouched by people when mined from mountains. They gleamed in the sun more beautifully than a gleaming river in the summer sun. They were truly elegant, and could only be found in the mountains of Arindore. 

It was believed that the cyjurs originated from the Arindore mountains and travelled across the country, but Feyth did not know why any would desire leaving a place with majesty that no other place can contend with. Nowadays cyjurs are seldom found in the home they had once flourished in. Though cyjurs weren’t gemstones, they were still considered beautiful. 

Feyth’s cyjur lay motionless, making the cutting simple. After she had cut the first piece of rope,its eyes opened. They, like an Arindorian gemstone were gorgeous. Its golden irises glistened and its pupils were large and wide. The moment they opened it began struggling again, thrashing about and trying to bite and claw her. it roared over and over again, reminding her of its enormous fangs, designed to maul. She jumped up and backed away, raising her hands and dropping the dagger.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Feyth whispered soothingly, knowing it wouldn’t understand her. It continued to thrash for minutes without end, rolling closer to her each minute, but whenever it got close, it tumbled back down the crater. Not only was it snared, but it was also trapped. Ordinarily a situation like this would be hilarious to Feyth, but not when a rare animal was injured. As its strength began to fail, tears filled its gorgeous, golden eyes. Its tears began to drizzle down its exquisite face, it wept for its life the way no other animal could. It knew it would die. 

Feyth approached it again, edging closer to it with her hands held up. She bent down, still watching the cyjur and grasped her dagger with one of her hands. She crouched beside it again and sawed at another piece of rope from the net. This time, however, it did not thrash, it was too tired, too weak. She continued to saw her way through the net until its legs were free. She began trembling as she cut. When it was free, what would it do? Eat her? It was the most likely thing a cyjur would do, but despite her fears she didn’t waver. She wanted it to be free. Her life would be worth the life of a creature belonging to a species so close to extinction. 

With the deft slice of one piece of rope, the cyjur leapt back to life, jumping up and tearing the rest of the net from its body. The violence of this action amazed Feyth as she was tossed aside, as if she weighed nothing, by one of its paws. She wanted to flee, but she could not, she was hypnotized by its roars, its frantic struggling that had finally set it free. She snapped out of her trance when it stopped and confronted her, its head lifted to match the height of her own. They stood there, face to face, staring into each other’s eyes. 

Feyth was filled with fear, but also with courage. She had done a good deed, she would die with a clear conscience. The cyjur, however, wasn’t planning on eating the child. Rather, he, for it was a male cyjur, was contemplating how he would repay her. Would he show her the way home? No, she would already know that. Would he speak to her? Was it too risky, would she betray the secret of cyjurs? He wasn’t sure whether or not to trust her with the burden of the well-kept cyjur secret, but as he was thinking, she collapsed to her knees. He hadn’t noticed her quivering. She was fearful, afraid of what this mighty creature could do to her, fearful of her impending doom. 

“Please…” she begged, whimpering as she spoke. “Spare my life, as I spared your own,” she said as she closed her eyes in an attempt to hide her forming tears. They spilled down her face and despite her efforts to hide them from the cyjur, he could see them, clear as daylight. Tears are a conspicuous thing when you’re that close to a person’s face, you cannot disguise them by closing your eyes. He loomed above her casting a shadow upon her melancholy face. 

“I pity you,” he said, or so she thought he said. Actually, he thought it, she simply wasn’t looking at his face when he thought it and assumed he had spoken it. She had heard what he had thought, the way one would hear spoken words. This was the gift of the cyjurs. They could speak with their minds. To whomever they want, whether they single a person out or speak to multiple people. They can say things that they don’t want others to hear, and the others wouldn’t hear it, it’s quite beneficial for them. Regrettably, they prefer to keep their unnatural ability secret, so very few people know of their high intelligence and think that they’re simply animals. They aren’t though, they are as precocious as humans. Though they are mentally advanced, only the cyjurs know. The fact that this one was speaking to Feyth was astounding, from her point of view at least. 

The moment Feyth heard it speak, her gaze drifted back to it, darting from its eyes to its mouth. She was confounded, she thought she was having a reverie. She was going insane, delirious! Surely this cyjur had not spoken? She thought to herself.

“Thank you for your help, how can I repay you for this act of compassion?” he spoke again, his voice kind and deep, though not a mature voice, more of the voice of a young man. It reminded Feyth of her deceased brother, whom had a similar voice. Though she found it difficult, she managed to reply despite her bewilderment.

“Y-you can talk?” The cyjur was amused by her vague reply, humans were completely oblivious to their ability of speech, and it was quite bemusing to watch her reaction. 

“Yes! Of course! My name is Korin, I’m a cyjur as you probably know, and I suppose I’m in your debt, after you save my life and all,” he said, or thought. He backed up a little, allowing her to view his entire body, rather than only his face. 

“Uh…I’m Feyth…” she replied. If cyjurs could smile, he would have been grinning. When she could finally comprehend what was happening, she began to relax. Korin was not going to hurt her in any way, or at least he did not have any interest in the matter. In fact, he seemed friendly, and a bit too robust, for an injured creature. A feeling of anxiety settled itself inside her, reminding her that she had just saved his life, though she still wasn’t entirely sure what from. She used her keen eyes to search him for any injury or wounds. It took her a while to spot anything that could be alarming, or even life threatening, all she could find was a small cut travelling up his leg, but it was a thin cut, and evidently not deep enough to be concerning. 

After another desperate search for life threatening wounds, she discerned a small red mark on his side, close to his broad shoulder. Crimson liquid was oozing down his fur like raindrops on a rock, though she wasn’t entirely sure of what it actually was, Korin was concealing it with his wing and would have succeeded in fooling her that he was relatively unscathed if she had not been prominent with her search. She advanced towards him, he watched her, patronizing her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he growled menacingly. His voice filled her mind, making her flinch away. It included a vague feeling of claws ripping her to pieces, but not strong enough to actually make her feel intense pain. 

“I know you’re injured, let me help, one last time?” He looked away, his head directed to the forest. Animal sounds had returned. Birds were chirping away and he could hear ground creatures scurrying across the forest floor and rustling amongst the undergrowth. He reluctantly raised his wing, revealing a large gash that stretch from his shoulder all the way down to his haunches. The gash may have been slim before, but with all his struggling, it had widened to a gaping wound. When he lifted his wing, he let loose a flow of blood that began dripping onto the ground, forming a puddle. The bleeding was heavy, the wing had protected it for a short time, but now his life was in the balance.

Feyth lunged forward, ripping her black coat free from her body and forcing it onto his throbbing wound. When the fabric made contact with his pulsing wound, it sent fierce pain shooting through his body. This pain would send humans sprawling, cyjurs had developed a minor immunity to pain, but their immunity could not block out all the pain and still made Korin yowl in agony. Feyth couldn’t stand the sound of his torment, but knew full and well that she was assisting him. She pressed the coat on the wound more firmly, spreading is across the entire length of the wound in an attempt to completely stop the bleeding. The blood soaked into the coat in a matter of seconds. She had not realised the intensity of the situation. His long black tail, sleek and smooth, began to lash back and forth. 

His eyes were shut tightly, he was obviously in pain. It frustrated Feyth, she was failing, her delinquency was infuriating. She couldn’t help him, she was training to track animals, not heal them. It was going against what she had been taught. 

“Hold this,” she said, meaning for him to use his wing to put pressure on it. He did so, holding the coat firmly in place. The moment she was sure it was firm, she dashed to the fishing net. The ropes on it were strong and sturdy, perfect for what she had in mind. She untangled it and began to pull ropes out from each other, destroying the net in the process but leaving her with lengthy ropes. Clutching one of the especially long ropes, she walked back to Korin. 

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously, his pain was not hidden in his voice. She shook her head, wondering to herself what she was doing. 

“I’m not entirely sure…,” she may have been thinking to herself, but she hoped he would understand what she meant. He nodded, or so it seemed, but she couldn’t understand why. Why would a cyjur nod his head, with such honest understanding? The fact was, not only can cyjur speak through their minds, but they can also hear minds, if the mind chooses to convey their thoughts to the cyjur. It’s exceedingly clever. She gave a little shrug, and continued with whatever it was she was doing. She threw one end of the rope over his body and crawled underneath him with the other end in hand. She tied the two ends together, tightly so that they would not come undone easily. She travelled back to his injured side and pushed it onto the coat. 

She continued this process with multiple ropes, working underneath his gorgeous wing, which now glistened with small droplets of scarlet blood. When she had used all the pieces of rope, she had the entire length of the coat held by the ropes, in a way that held it firm and unmoving. She permitted him to remove his wing, and when he did she saw a large blood stain on the under feathers of his wing. It took her a few moments to finally realise what she had accomplished, he was no longer bleeding heavily. Her temporary bandage had succeeded in its purpose. She would have jumped with joy and celebration, but Korin was still in pain and still in danger. Though the danger of him bleeding to death had been averted, he could still gain infection or his wound might start bleeding again. She wasn’t really sure what could happen, she wasn’t a healer. But… she did know a person who was. 

~~~

Chapter I again, this time, however, it has been edited (by myself)

Yep c;