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Feyth ran her pale 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 doing adequately. Along
the trail, bushes had been trampled down and flattened by large feet, possibly
paws.
Further along the trail she had been following, she 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 raced through the forest, dodging past trees and jumping over debris of fallen trees and uprooted plants. Something huge had some this way, the trail made that fact obvious and she now had a pretty accurate idea of what the creature was from the signs and clues she had accumulated whilst tracking it.
Unfortunately, confronting or approaching large creatures could be quite a precarious business, they are highly dangerous and can be extremely unpredictable.
Feyth raced 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 leapt and jumped 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. 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. It wasn’t difficult to track, creatures that aren’t moving usually are, but freeing them 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 and 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. 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.
Feyth kneeled beside him and ran her hand along his body, enjoying the feeling of his soft, sleek fur. Normal tigers did not have fur like cyjurs, but they were not special. Cyjurs had enormous wings, similar to a falcon's wing 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 hidden from humans, unknown and 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 are the most intelligent animal, they understand how to live in solitude and have never needed anybody.
Feyth couldn’t help but feel sorry for the cyjur she had discovered. His body was tangled in a fishing net, which he probably encountered while swimming in Ourer Lake. It meant that he would not have had to struggle and tumble far before he reached the crater. Feyth tore out her dagger from her belt and began to saw at the ropes that had ensnared the creature, hastily. Her dagger was of perfect shape, silver with 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 and rock. They gleamed in the sun more beautiful than a clear river in the summer sun. They were truly elegant, and could only be found in the mountains of Arindore.
The cyjur lay motionless except for the faint rise and fall of his chest, making the cutting simple. After she had cut the first piece of rope, his eyes opened, revealing their golden colouring and gleaming pupils. The moment they opened it began struggling again, thrashing about and trying to bite and claw her. He roared over and over again, reminding her of his enormous fangs, used to kill when hunting. She jumped up and backed away, raising her hands and dropping the dagger.
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t understand her. He continued to thrash for minutes without end, rolling closer to her each minute, but whenever he got close, he tumbled back down the crater. Not only was he snared, but he was also trapped. As his strength began to fail, tears filled his gorgeous, golden eyes. His tears began to drizzle down his majestic face, he wept for his life the way no other animal could. He knew he would die.
Feyth approached him again, edging closer to him with her hands held up. She bent down, still watching the cyjur and grasped her dagger with one of her hands. She crouched beside him again and sawed at another piece of rope from the net. This time, however, he did not thrash, he was too tired, too weak. She continued to saw her way through the net until his legs were free. She began trembling as she cut. When he was free, what would he do? Eat her? It was the most likely thing a cyjur would do, but despite her fears she didn’t waver. She wanted him to be free. Her life would be worth the life of a creature belonging to a species so close to extinction.
With the accurate slice of one piece of rope and the cyjur leapt back to life, jumping up and tearing the rest of the net from his body. The violence of this action amazed Feyth as she was tossed aside by one of his giant paws. She wanted to flee, but she could not, she was hypnotized by his roars, his frantic struggling that had finally set him free. She snapped out of her trance when he stopped and confronted her, his 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 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 their 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.
Further along the trail she had been following, she 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 raced through the forest, dodging past trees and jumping over debris of fallen trees and uprooted plants. Something huge had some this way, the trail made that fact obvious and she now had a pretty accurate idea of what the creature was from the signs and clues she had accumulated whilst tracking it.
Unfortunately, confronting or approaching large creatures could be quite a precarious business, they are highly dangerous and can be extremely unpredictable.
Feyth raced 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 leapt and jumped 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. 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. It wasn’t difficult to track, creatures that aren’t moving usually are, but freeing them 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 and 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. 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.
Feyth kneeled beside him and ran her hand along his body, enjoying the feeling of his soft, sleek fur. Normal tigers did not have fur like cyjurs, but they were not special. Cyjurs had enormous wings, similar to a falcon's wing 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 hidden from humans, unknown and 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 are the most intelligent animal, they understand how to live in solitude and have never needed anybody.
Feyth couldn’t help but feel sorry for the cyjur she had discovered. His body was tangled in a fishing net, which he probably encountered while swimming in Ourer Lake. It meant that he would not have had to struggle and tumble far before he reached the crater. Feyth tore out her dagger from her belt and began to saw at the ropes that had ensnared the creature, hastily. Her dagger was of perfect shape, silver with 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 and rock. They gleamed in the sun more beautiful than a clear river in the summer sun. They were truly elegant, and could only be found in the mountains of Arindore.
The cyjur lay motionless except for the faint rise and fall of his chest, making the cutting simple. After she had cut the first piece of rope, his eyes opened, revealing their golden colouring and gleaming pupils. The moment they opened it began struggling again, thrashing about and trying to bite and claw her. He roared over and over again, reminding her of his enormous fangs, used to kill when hunting. She jumped up and backed away, raising her hands and dropping the dagger.
“I’m not trying to hurt you,” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t understand her. He continued to thrash for minutes without end, rolling closer to her each minute, but whenever he got close, he tumbled back down the crater. Not only was he snared, but he was also trapped. As his strength began to fail, tears filled his gorgeous, golden eyes. His tears began to drizzle down his majestic face, he wept for his life the way no other animal could. He knew he would die.
Feyth approached him again, edging closer to him with her hands held up. She bent down, still watching the cyjur and grasped her dagger with one of her hands. She crouched beside him again and sawed at another piece of rope from the net. This time, however, he did not thrash, he was too tired, too weak. She continued to saw her way through the net until his legs were free. She began trembling as she cut. When he was free, what would he do? Eat her? It was the most likely thing a cyjur would do, but despite her fears she didn’t waver. She wanted him to be free. Her life would be worth the life of a creature belonging to a species so close to extinction.
With the accurate slice of one piece of rope and the cyjur leapt back to life, jumping up and tearing the rest of the net from his body. The violence of this action amazed Feyth as she was tossed aside by one of his giant paws. She wanted to flee, but she could not, she was hypnotized by his roars, his frantic struggling that had finally set him free. She snapped out of her trance when he stopped and confronted her, his 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 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 their 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 whoever 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 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 she 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 crazy, surely this cyjur had not spoken? “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 boy of the age of 15-20. It reminded Feyth of her deceased brother, whom had a similar voice. Though she found it difficult, she managed to reply despite her bewilderment.
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 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 she 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 crazy, surely this cyjur had not spoken? “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 boy of the age of 15-20. 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, it was quite entertaining
to watch her reaction.
“Yes! Of course! My
name is Korin, I’m a cyjur as you probably know, and I guess 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 cockily. 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, Feyth discerned a small red glisten on his side, close to his broad shoulder, the 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 unscathed if she had not been prominent with her search. She advanced towards him, he watched her, patronizing her small body and weak skills.
After another desperate search for life threatening wounds, Feyth discerned a small red glisten on his side, close to his broad shoulder, the 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 unscathed if she had not been prominent with her search. She advanced towards him, he watched her, patronizing her small body and weak skills.
“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?” She
looked away, his head directed to the forest. Animal sounds had returned. Birds
were chirping away while 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. The bleeding was heavy, the wing
had protected it for a short time, but now his life was in the balance, once
again.
Feyth lunged forward, tearing off her black coat 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, not instantly but in a matter of second. 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 coldly, meaning for him to use his wing to put pressure on it. He did so, holding the coat 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.
Feyth lunged forward, tearing off her black coat 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, not instantly but in a matter of second. 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 coldly, meaning for him to use his wing to put pressure on it. He did so, holding the coat 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
quite clever and beneficial, to not only the cyjurs, but also those who happen upon
them and speak to them. She gave a little shrug, and continued with whatever it
was she was doing.
Feyth 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 crimson 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.
Feyth 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 probability of him bleeding to death was now slight, 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.
Feyth 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 crimson 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.
Feyth 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 probability of him bleeding to death was now slight, 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.
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