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;
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