Writing contest results!

[Harri 4815]

Evening mates!

 

Now, I'd like to apologise for taking so long to judge this. There were a lot of entries, and I was faced with three weeks of either IRL business or illness, hence why it took so long. However, I've finally found time now that I'm in full health and free from the constraints of school, and have finally delivered the results.

 

1st Place

 

The Art of Peace

by Leowarrior14

 

Spoiler

 

Part 1 - The HouZi

 

Laohu slashed his way through the forest thicket.

 

Mid-day had arrived in the thick forests of southern Tahn. Though one could hardly tell. Great elder trees towered into the sky, their thick canopies blocking almost all sunlight from filtering through. These trees were grander than anything Laohu had seen in his life. Taller than mountains, older than the sea, wiser than the most venerable of Hou-Zi, that’s what the sages in their temples back home would say. What rubbish, a tree was a tree.

 

“What can we gain out of being here, Jing-Laohu? There is no civilization in this sea of savagery.”

 

Laohu turned to confront the source of the voice. It was Zhang-Yielung, who stared back at him petulantly. Yielung was different to Laohu. His fur was a patterned shade of gold and red, his tail long and curled, the exposed skin of his face was blue like the shallows of the sea, and his nose pitch black. He stood out like a sore thumb in the forest. Laohu on the other hand was brown of fur, short-tailed and not nearly as flamboyant, although he still wore the same brass lamellar armour of the Hou-Zi empire, that grand golden uniform which displayed the wealth and superiority of his species as much as it actually protected him from attacks.

 

Laohu grunted then continued to hack his way through the forest thicket with his curved, jade-hilted blade. “The Jiangjun made his orders clear, Zhang-Yielung. We scout the forest and report any signs of settlement.”

 

The more colourful of the two monkeys snorted arrogantly, shouldering his own oriental blade as he simply strode through the path that Laohu was doing all the work in cutting for them. “There are no settlements here, xiongdi! Even if there were, why should we slog through this barbaric land? What tribute can this forsaken place bring? What wealth to our empire?”

 

“There are Jiantou in these woods who would roast your brains for supper and drink your blood for tea….Xiongdi.” Laohu put an extra ironic emphasis on the word for ‘comrade’. In truth, Yielung had begun getting on his nerves long ago. “We are to scout for their hiding places, report back to command, then return with the main army to eliminate them.”

 

Yielung seems undisturbed. “Hah. Jiantou. Elves. They are like rabbits! The ones in Cao-Rou-Ling vacate the streets at the sight of a Hou-Zi.”

 

“This is not Cao-Rou-Ling, Yielung. And the Elves who live here are not the conquered slaves of the Empire any more than you are of the Hei-Zhu. These elves are wild and savage.”

 

“Ha, then we will tame them like the rest!” The multicoloured monkey man raised his fist in bravado. “Kě hóuzi dìguó rěnshòu wànnián!”

 

“Calm down.” Laohu hissed. “You’ll bring them on us.”

 

Yielung met his comrade with a smile, an expertly constructed, condescending smile. “I am beginning to wonder why you joined the recon corp if you fear so much, Laobai.” He referred to Laohu by his race, ‘common-folk’, the lowest of the Hou-Zi. “If the prospect of a few forest savages scares you, then how will you face a real en---...”

 

The radiant Hou-Zi was cut off as Laohu clamped a hand over his mouth and pushed him roughly against a tree, he himself also hiding against the thick trunk. “Quiet. Something is near.” He hissed.

 

Yielung shoved Laohu off of him with a grunt, his eyes furious with anger, his tail standing on end and his fur standing upright. “Dont you dare touch me. If this is your idea of a joke, Laobai, know it won't end well for you. My uncle sits in the Hou-Shen’s cou--...”

 

Yielung never finished his sentence, due in part to the bonehead arrow which had ripped through his skull.

 

The Fei-zhu monkey’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and collapsed to the floor like a ragdoll. Blood had already begun soaking his once majestic fur, and his tail, which for a moment had twitched, now lay still. Laohu looked on with wide eyes, frozen in fear. Another arrow flew and struck the tree barely an inch over his head. The brown furred Hou-Zi screeched and began tearing his way through the forest, his dignity and composition gone. He ran and ran and ran, but no further arrows flew. It seemed he had escaped.

 

 

Part 2 - The Mali’ame

 

“You are a fool, Chiran.”

 

“I did what I thought was best, chieftain.”

 

The young wood elven hunter named Chiran sat cross legged inside a treetop hut, in a village so well woven into the trees that to an outsider's eyes, it may as well not exist. He sat in front of three stoic-gazed mali’ame elders, wearing buckskin trousers and rings of ornamental bones strung across their chest, their skin was inked heavily with various tribal markings of crimson red and ocean blue. A hearth roared behind them.

 

The elder in the center spoke. His black, spear-like tattoos resembled Chiran’s own. “Two of those lice ridden beasts, Chiran. Just two, you had an entire hunting party, and one of them got away. It is shameful. Even if it was intentional, which makes it worse.”

 

Chiran gulped. He knew that to invoke the ire of his seed chieftain was a dangerous business, yet he felt obligated to explain himself. “If one lives, then he can report back to the others, spread fear in their ranks.”

 

The elder slammed his fist into the log floor of the tree, snarling. Chiran paled. “All you’ve proven to those monsters is that your aim is too poor to finish off a measly two scouts. All you’ve shown them is the path to where we live! What is to stop the one you spared from coming back here with fifty more of his cursed kind? The monkeys know no fear, they only know conquest and destruction. It has been this way since Malin walked the earth!”

 

The elder next to the middle one nodded, his tattoos were green, emblazoned on his face. “Aureon warriors would never allow such a show of misguided mercy.”

 

The elder in the middle’s glare only intensified. “Neither do Beloun. Which is why Chiran will go back into the forest and finish off the furtailed abomination he spared. Alone.”

 

Chiran stared down the three elders, who bore down on him with disdainful glares. A chill went up his spine, he gulped.

 

“Yes, chieftain.”

 

 

Part 3 - The Hunt

Laohu finally stopped in a small clearing. He had been running on and off for hours. A good portion of his body was caked in dried blood, as the sharp branches and brambles of the forest thicket and all but shredded him as he ran through them in a desperate panic. His thick protective layer of monkey’s fur was likely the only reason he still had skin at all.

 

As he gasped raggedly and caught his breath, he gauged his surroundings. The clearing he stood in was under the shadow of a particularly large elder tree. The grass grew tall, and a small babbling stream ran through the middle. He hadn’t heard or seen any sign of the savage elves in hours. Laohu stripped off his lamellar armour. He knelt in front of the stream and began splashing the cool water over his wounds, washing his face, sighing contently at the relief they brought.

 

He heard a rustle in the thicket.

 

 

---

 

Chiran’s bow-arm began trembling. He had his hunting bow at full draw, bonehead arrow aimed at the Hou-Zi’s head. Yet, he was young, little more than a child, and he was a hunter, not a warrior. He brought down deer, elk, rabbits. He’d never killed the sentient, not even a monkey man, even if his elders had raised him to see them as faceless beasts like any other. But here, in the forest clearing, watching the furtailed creature wash his wounds, he knew he was more or less a man much like him. The Hou-zi stared him in the eye now, looking right where Chiran was hiding. It couldn’t be helped, Chiran thought, now he’d been spotted, he should at least let the monkey look upon his killer properly…

 

---

 

Laohu saw the savage break out of the forest thicket and into the clearing, a bow drawn and terrifying serrated arrow pulled to full draw, aimed between his eyes. He reached out for his sword, but knew it would do him no good. The arrow would find his skull before he could twitch.

 

Instead, Laohu resigned himself to look upon the elf. His skin was brown as bark, hair fiery red. He had jagged, pitch black, spearlike tattoos going down the length of his arm and under each of his eyes, which were blue as a cloudless sky.

 

Laohu stared down the tribal elf, who stared back at him with wild eyes… Laohu could almost sense hesitation. Then, he heard the elf speak.

 

“O nae ame'ito narne?”

 

Laohu blinked, shocked. He realized he was frozen in place, awaiting for the arrow which would end him. He remained silent.

 

The elf stiffened and reaimed his bow, as if threatening. He spoke once more, harsher this time.

 

“Nae dil yallr? Saner!  O nae ame'ito narne?!”

 

Laohu, trembling and wide eyes, raised his hands up into the air, the universal sign of surrender. He then spoke in a stuttering reply...

 

---

 

“Bùyào shā wǒ! Wǒ tóuxiáng! Bàituō nǐ…”

 

Of course. Chiran cursed himself. He couldn’t understand a word the monkey was saying. He wanted to end it here and put an arrow through the beast’s skull. He grimaced, and pulled his arrow back to full tension.

 

The brown furred monkey fell to his knees and clasped his palms together. Evidently, begging was not an elf-specific trait. Tears ran down his face, staining the already bloodcaked fur.

 

“Bàituō nǐ… Bàituō nǐ…”

 

His voice was an octave higher than any male elf, unstable, nasally, undisputably alien. But Chiran looked into the Hou-zi’s eyes and saw they were much like his own. Expressive, wide, afraid.

 

Chiran lowered his bow.

 

Once his weapon was down, he knew there was no going back. His choice had been made. He saw the Hou-Zi look up at him, bloodstained eyes hesitant, wary, as if expecting this to be some sort of trick, a cruel game. Chiran shook his head, he shouldered his bow and spread his arms to either side of his chest to prove himself a non-threat. He even smiled a weak smile.

 

---

 

Laohu had not realized it before, but this elf was likely little more than a child. It was hard to tell, since elves were ageless beings who lived much longer than Hou-Zi. He could see clear as day, that while this child had been taught to kill, he was not a killer.

 

Laohu breathed. His nerves had slowly but surely settled. He let the situation sink in. What now? Was the elf going to let him go? He turned to see the brown skinned hunter bend down to pick up Laohu’s sword and slide it into his buckskin belt. He sighed, now he was truly at his mercy.

 

The elf turned and began making his way out the forest clearing. He grunted and waved with his arm. It was clear he wanted Laohu to follow him. Realizing he was clueless in navigating the forest on his own, and that the elf could quickly turn on him again if he didn't comply anyways, Laohu followed.

 

 

Part 4 - Lost in Translation

It was night, and the forest was awake with the hooting of owls, howls of wolves and the chirping of crickets.

 

Laohu sat in front of a fire on a piece of flat grass on the edge of a cliff, which of course dropped down to reveal more forest. The fire was a masterpiece. Warm and welcoming, yet it gave off no smoke. Laohu suspected it was so no hunters would find them. The elf, who for lack of a name to call him Laohu had named Xiao-Lieren (little hunter), had proven himself to be quite the ranger. He had concocted a mixture of treesap and arrowroot leaves to create a soothing balm for Laohu’s wounds, and had done all the work in the fire making. All in all, the two had begun getting along quite well, aside from one mishap where Laohu had tried to reclaim his sword, only for Xiao-Lieren to draw his bow on him. That situation was quickly diffused, and Laohu had realized he likely was not getting his weapon back.

 

Now he sat where they’d made camp for the night, closing his eyes and reminiscing on the day’s events…

 

Hours earlier they had been walking through the forest. Xiao-Lieren seemed to have no trouble with this, winding and weaving through the thicket and trees seamlessly. Laohu, on the other hand, stumbled and crashed, especially without use of his hacking sword. This drew a whimsical, amused laughter from the elf.

 

They had conversed as they walked. Or tried to, at least. Through an awkward game of pointing, guessing and charades, he had picked up that Xiao-Lieren had been sent to finish him off after failing to kill him alongside his pompous comrade Yielung. Since the elf has spared his life, he had to lead Laohu out of the forest now, get him out of sight for good. Laohu guessed this from a series of agitated pointing and antsy nervousness in the elf’s eyes. No doubt little Lieren would get in trouble with his superiors if any other elves found Laohu alive and confirmed the job had not been finished as ordered.

 

Laohu heard footsteps and broke out of his daydream. His young companion had returned, and with a wild boar hauled over his shoulder no less, an arrow pierced cleanly through the pig’s eye. Laohu stood to help, but Xiao-Lieren simply grunted and pushed him back into a seating position. Laohu couldn’t help but feel condescended, but he knew that he’d be useless anyways. Like every other facet of tribal life, he knew nothing of how to prepare a boar. The elf did.

 

Half an hour later, the pig was skinned and gutted, roasting on a spit above the fire. Both the monkey and elf sat in stoic silence. Laohu’s tail flickered nervously.

 

“Chiran.”

 

Laohu blinked, only just realizing the elf had spoken.

 

The elf placed a palm over his chest as if gesturing to himself, he repeated once more.

 

“Chiran.”

 

Chiran. That must be his name. Pity, Xiao-Lieren seemed much more fitting. The Hou-zi shrugged it off and pointed at his own chest.

 

“Laohu.”

 

“La-Hu?”

 

For the first time in days, Laohu chortled, raising his head to the sky as his laughter escaped him. He shook his head and spoke once more, putting extra emphasis on the pronounciation.

 

“Lǎohǔ. Wo, Laohu.”  He pointed at the elf.  “Ni, Shee-Rahn.”

 

The tension between them slowly melted away. Chiran smiled and shook his head while turning the boar on the spit.

 

“Kae Chiran.” He put weight on the ‘Ch’ sound. “Cheeeran.”

 

“Chee-ran…” Laohu echoed. He saw the boar cooked, and without thinking, reached for his sword, which lay next to Chiran’s lap. Chiran set his eyes on Laohu and froze. The tension flooded back between them like a crashing wave. Chiran made no move. Carefully, slowly, Laohu picked up the blade. He never left Chiran’s gaze. The monkey’s tail flickered nervously, his movements were slow. He carved a piece of the boar’s meat and set it on his lap. He then carved out another piece, keeping it speared atop the sword’s tip, and handed the blade back to Chiran.

 

The elf took the blade, relief palpable in his gaze.

 

“Ahernan, Laohu.”

 

Chiran began gnawing into the meat. Laohu did the same, and soon both had drifted off.

 

 

Part 5 - Homo Homini Lupus

The sun beat down on both the monkey and the elf.

 

Laohu had noticed it. The trees had begun to thin, the ground had begun to be more open and the sun was no longer shrouded by the forest canopy. Laohu hadn’t realized how much he missed it. Chiran, on the other hand seemed nervous. This open environment left him exposed, and it was clear he was most comfortable in the thickest of wilds. Either way, both of them realized their journey would soon come to an end.

 

Another few hours of walking and the two had made their way into an open plain. The forest was truly behind them now. Laohu fought down a wave of regret, as he knew it was time to part with his saviour. He turned to look Chiran in the eye, who turned to reciprocate his gaze. They shared a stoic connection for awhile…

 

Then, out of the corner of their eyes, they saw smoke rising from behind a hill.

 

Laohu turned, his fur standing on end. He knew it could only mean one thing. He turned back once more to warn Chiran, but the elf had already scurried up the hill to investigate for himself. Laohu raised his palm after Chiran and shouted. “No!” He scurried after.

 

The both of them reached the top of the hill to find an encampment. Dozens of tents lined side by side, all dyed the turquoise shade of jade, emblazoned with a golden sun. A full division of the Hou-Zi army. Laohu gulped, there weren’t supposed to be this many yet. They had only sent scouts into the mali’ame forests so far.

 

He turned to Chiran and tried to tug him down. “You need to leave. Go, now, or they’ll find you and kill you.”

 

Chiran appeared agitated, glaring down at Laohu. Of course, he didn’t understand a word of what he was saying, and even though he had begun to read the urgency in the Hou-Zi’s body language, it was too late.

 

Shouts were heard in the distance.

 

A platoon of Hou-Zi soldiers marched up to the two, bearing Guandao- special polearms. They were the same shining lamellar armour that Laohu once had, and ornate, golden helmets with horsehair plumes. Chiran turned to run, but Laohu gripped his arm. He knew there was no use. The soldiers surrounded the two and pointed their weapons at them, cutting off any routes of escape.

 

The commander rode up behind the group, mounted atop a milk white stallion. His armour was more ornate and shinier than his subordinates. He eased off his helmet and held it under his shoulder, revealing colourful, scarlet red fur and a golden face. He regarded Chiran with a fiery disdain, before his gaze turned to Laohu.

 

“I am Colonel Jiang of the 5th Division Dragon Expedition Corp. State your name and rank.”

 

“Laohu, sir. Footman of the Tiger Scouting Corp.”

 

Jiang made a gesture with his hand, and the soldiers lifted their polearms, albeit still surrounding the two. Chiran had a hand curled around Laohu’s sword, which was at his belt. Laohu placed a hand on Chiran’s shoulder, trying desperately to calm him while maintaining an even gaze.

 

The Commander spoke. “You’re quite foolish to allow your captive your weapon.”

 

Laohu gulped. “He is not my captive, sir.”

 

“I see. You were his, then? You led him to us promising a ransom for your safe return?”

 

“No, sir.”

 

“Well.” Jiang said matter-of-factly, his gaze cold. “You have some explaining to do, footman Laohu.”

 

Laohu turned to Chiran, taking deep breaths to calm himself. Chiran, to his credit, showed no fear. He glared down at the Hou-Zi soldiers which surrounded him, his chest puffed, as if ready to die a man. Laohu inhaled sharply then looked the commander in the eye.

 

“After my partner was killed sir, he spared my life. Led me out of the forest.”

 

“No doubt from there he would secretly follow you to your encampment, then return to his people, now conveniently baring information on our numbers, location and fortifications.” He waved his hand dismissively at his men. “Kill the Jiantou. We will bring footman Laohu back for interrogation.”

 

As the Hou-Zi soldiers pointed their guandao and approached, Laohu screeched. “NO! STOP! He saved my life. I would have died lost in the woods if not for him.”

 

The soldiers hesitated and looked up to their commander for his decision. Jiang snarled, baring his monkey fangs. “Perhaps it would have been best if you did. Your friend is a savage, Laohu, and you are a traitor. They killed five of our foragers today. Including a child! Scalped them all!” His golden face had turned red with anger, he shouted at his soldiers. “KILL THE ELF!”

 

Whizzing was heard.

 

Two arrows buried themselves in the necks of two Hou-Zi soldiers, both gurgled, then crumbled to the ground.

 

Jiang’s eyes widened. “Ambush! Ambush! Defensive formation!”

 

Chiran, who had been stiffly watching this whole time, saw his opportunity. He drew Laohu’s blade and leapt onto the back of a Hou-Zi soldier who’s back was turned, screaming savagely. The two tumbled down the hill, away from the main group, rolling, punching and grasping at each other’s weapons.

 

Dozens of wood elven tribal warriors poured out of the treeline, bare-skinned, baring sharp green tattoos on their arms and faces, painted with the red ochre of war. Two rode atop massive elk, armed with bows. They swooped by and fired, two more Hou-Zi soldiers fell, screeching in pain as they clutched their pierced necks.

 

Laohu scrambled out of the chaos and began tumbling down the hill to find Chiran. The melee broke out in full force. The Hou-Zi had regrouped and formed a wall of spears with their guandao. Several wood elven warriors were skewered in the initial crashing of the two forces, wearing no armour like their opponents did. Soon the combat spread out various smaller duels across the grassy hill. Golden plated Hou-Zi soldiers cutting down the elven warriors armed with blades of bone and ironwood, only to be slain themselves by the mounted archers riding about the field.

 

Laohu began crawling through the grass. Through the tall thicket he saw Chiran, who was bathed in blood, straddling the corpse of the Hou-Zi soldier he had tumbled down with. From the looks of it, the young elf had overpowered the soldier and stabbed him in the face multiple times. He was panting, eyes wild. He locked his gaze with Laohu. Laohu trembled, frozen in place. Chiran was not the same person he was before.

 

The elf rose, his friendly, youthful gaze gone. He bore Laohu’s sword still and approached the prone Hou-Zi. Laohu knew this was the end, from the wild look in Chiran’s eyes, he knew it was over. What was Chiran to think? Naturally he would believe Laohu had led him into this trap.

 

Chiran raised his sword, prepared to strike the fatal blow. Then… he hesitated. Laohu, whose eyes had been shut, looked up. He saw the same hesitation and youthful uncertainty in Chiran’s eyes as he had when he first met. He slowly rose up to his knees, and with a trembling arm, lifted his palm up to the elf, as if for him to take. A gesture of peace.

 

Chiran reached, but their hands never touched. A guandao pierced through the elf’s heart. It’s wielder, a bloody, panting, limping commander Jiang. He yanked his polearm out of Chiran, who collapsed limply into Laohu’s numb arms. Laohu didnt even notice what happened next. He didn’t care.

 

“You are a traitor, footman Laohu.” Jiang gasped, blood caking his fur, running down his scalp. “You are a traitor and will hang for this. Mark my words… mark my..”

 

An arrow landed between commander Jiang’s eyes with a sickening crack. The Hou-Zi crumpled, and formed the last piece in the bloodstained field of corpses which had been created.

 

In the end, the wood elves won the skirmish. Half a dozen of their tribal warriors lay dead, while all of the Hou-Zi had been slain. They made quick work of gathering up the weapons, helmets and other things which could be useful. More sickeningly, they used special knives of bone to peel away the scalps of the dead Hou-Zi, collecting them, no doubt, as trophies.

 

They descended down the hill, then stopped, and blinked in surprise. Evidently, they had not expected to see a Hou-Zi tenderly cradling the corpse of a young wood elven hunter.

 

A tall, amber-eyed elf rode up atop his elk mount. He shouldered the bow he had been wielding.

“I am Galann of Chirr Seed. I will assume you know no elvish. Do you speak the common tongue?”

 

Laohu stirred a bit from his trance. It just so happened he did. It hadn’t occured to him that they would share a language.

 

“I do.”

 

Galann gestured at Chiran’s corpse. “This elf, whose ilmyumier is of the Beloun Seed. How did you come to know him?”

 

Laohu was still numb, tired and mostly, just defeated. He kept the dead Chiran in his embrace and spoke in an empty, muffled tone.

 

“He was my friend.”

 

Galann looked past the Hou-Zi, his gaze narrowed, skeptical. An ochre-painted mali’ame warrior strode up next to him and grunted.

 

“Chieftain, let us kill this one and go home. We must vacate soon before reinforcements arrive.”

 

“I do not believe this one to be our enemy, Arandir.”

 

“The dead Beloun has surely shown him too much. At least gouge out his eyes so he may never lead his people to our homes.”

 

The chieftain Galann stroked his chin, contemplating. “Perhaps…”

 

A warhorn sounded in the distance, coming from the Hou-Zi encampment. Galann grunted and tugged on the fur of the elk he rode, turning it back towards the tree line. “We have no time. Chirr, with me!” The warriors paced ahead of their chief, back towards the woods.

 

“This is your lucky day, ape.” Galann rode away with them, leaving Laohu alone with Chiran’s body.

 

 

Part 6 - The Art of Peace

Laohu carried Chiran’s body into the deep woods.

 

He knew that Chiran had liked it best there, and he wanted the elf to rest where he had been most at home. The spent the evening digging the grave, then planting wild flowers over where it lay.

 

He trekked back out of the woods and strode back up to the hill overlooking the Hou-Zi army encampment. The scouts would have come and gone now, and no one would be looking for him. He looked down at the tents, at the small silhouettes of tailed Hou-Zi walking through the palisades. Down there was the only life he’d ever known.

 

Laohu turned in the opposite direction, and walked north.

 

Laohu walked and walked. He taught himself to hunt, based on how he’d seen Chiran do it. He built his own fires, made his own fur pelt clothing. He walked for months, days, and finally years. Throughout all this, he meditated, fasted and contemplated. A world without war, a world without conflict. Things which seemed to come so naturally to all men, be they pointed eared or long of tail.

 

Laohu settled in the northern mountains of Tahn. He sat, he fasted, he meditated. His soul became one with his body, then it became more. Soon he found he could control his spirit, it gave him strength, and all the answers were made clear to him.

 

The art of peace was born.

 

 

Part 7 - Humble Ends, Humble Beginnings

An elderly Hou-Zi sat in the middle of a snowy courtyard. His age showed. His once brown fur was now greyed, the skin of his face wrinkled. Yet, sitting there cross legged under the cherry blossom tree in the center of the courtyard of a grand mountain monastery, he looked nothing but content.

 

It had taken decades, but Laohu had built his new home. It hadn’t come quickly. He had spent years mastering the art of spirit, controlling his soul, controlling his new power. Sometimes he could hear voices speak to him. Fight, but don’t kill. Harness your soul. That is how man conquers his violent nature.

 

Soon he decided such an art needed teachings, and he began building. At first a humble hut. A few stumbled upon it, and began learning under the tutelage of the enlightened Laohu. They stayed, and helped him build even more. Soon, a gleaming monastery stood in the snowy peaks of northern Tahn. A beacon of enlightenment and peace in a world taken by war.

 

Laohu heard footsteps from behind him, interrupting his reminiscing. A young elf approached, wearing traditional Hou-Zi silks, seeming unbothered by the cold. The elderly Laohu smiled, a tinge of sadness to his gaze. This young elf had glimmering blue eyes full of curiosity, just like another elf had, long ago. He had named this elf after that one, to honour the dead. He shook away the bittersweet memory and spoke.

 

“You are early, Xiao-Lieren.”

 

“I am eager, sifu.”

 

Laohu gracefully rose to his feet and raised his elderly palms in a position to fight.

 

“Let’s begin, then.”

 

 

2nd Place

LoTC: Beyond

by i_am_Ricky

Spoiler

I

        The canopy trembled from a slight wind. Thick rays of silvery moonlight somehow made their way through parts of the thick foliage and crept into the jungle.

        The jungle was unlike any other in the known universe. It was home to hues of colors and scents that had since gone extinct on other planets. It was within the shadows of this jungle that a trio stalked their prey. Despite the land being deemed uninhabitable by the Empire, the remaining elves had made their home here within the last jungle. Here they hunted. Here they reproduced. Here they survived.

        An ivory colored elf’s silver relic of a blade scrapes across the bark of the heavy branch he stands on. Almost immediately, his fellow hunters snap back at him with fingers on their lips. The ivory elf sniffles and apologizes. He wasn’t a hunter by writ of talent but rather out of necessity. If he were to have had his way, he would have been back at home with his books. He dug his fingers into the bark to keep himself steady. He denies himself of the impulse to look down into the jungle’s abyss.

        “She’s up ahead,” a crouched figure whispers from another branch.

        The ivory elf is refocused by the leader of the hunt. He inhales deeply to take in the musk of the wet jungle. “She’s close,” the ivory elf adds.

        Some miles ahead of them and a few hundred feet below, a boar digs its tusks into the bark of one of the trees. This boar had been being hunted by them for quite some time. It was a monster of an animal. It was the last known remaining member of a pack. It was the mother. Her babies had already been hunted and killed by the native elves for sustenance. Her hide held the records of their past encounters and failed attempts.

        The last of the trio, who had been quiet until now, turns back to the ivory elf. This elf’s eyes glowed a deep crimson through the enveloping darkness. Had his eyes not had this characteristic, the ivory elf would have been unable to make out his ashen skinned brother. “On me. If you fall, you fall.”

        The three tucked their weapons into their sheaths. The more confident pair of the trio ignored the nervous gulping of the ivory elf. They began their descent, unbeknownst of the fact that they were not only the hunters but also the hunted.

        From the canopy above them, a hulking figure with piercing yellow eyes tracked its target.

“Ninety-eight, ninety-nine!”

The squire held his commander’s feet in place as he counted. As the final grunt from his superior began to rebound within the currently empty command deck, the cadet barked out the final number.

“One hundred, sir!”

The squire scurried across the floor to grab a towel.

“At ease,” Commander Reginald said somberly to the cadet as he rose to his feet. In every way, he was a hulking mass of man. His scarred face told the story of a once vicious inquisitor for the Empire but his voice was that of an old man surrendering to age.  “Everyone is at break. You should be too.” His eyes reflected the void of space that they now flew through.

The squire tracked the commander that now made his way down the bridge of the command deck towards his chair. “I am your squire, sir. I am to tend to your every need,” the squire said as he bowed his head to his now sitting Commander. Luckily, he’d caught the Commander’s irritated expression just in time. “Even if I do not want to. It is required of me by the— fat cats.”

It was that last remark that saved him from a snide comment about his mindless following of orders; regardless, the cruiser was beginning to arrive to its destination. In front of them was the only planet in the universe that that Empire only ever granted one visit to every hundred years. Their eyes widened. In among the oldest parts of space, Aegis Prime floated untouched.

A flash of desire and hope overcame the squire who until now had been relatively stiff. Most men of the Empire live their lives without ever tending to the gaping hole within them. Here was Aegis Prime in all of its green magnificence. It was as if the pieces of his life came together and everything made sense—and at this very moment, he truly believed his race was truly GOD’s chosen. “She’s beautiful,” he said.

Commander Reginald knew he could not expose the effect that the planet had had on him just moments before. His gloved hand tapped on a console that hovered in front of him. He struggled to compose himself as he prepared to do what he had been born to do: lead his people to Aegis Prime. His entire career had been based around being granted this mission by the Empire. He was an old man and he wanted to die having seen the last natural green in existence. “Gather the technicians, paratroopers and runners in the briefing room. I’m on my way.”

        The cracking of bark and the creaking of trees filled the air. This is what the ivory elf heard from his spot on the ground. As the boar continued its battle against his brothers, the ivory elf forced himself to sit up. His vision was blurred but he could make out his brothers in heated battle just ahead of him. The ivory elf had never trusted them. They were the other elves. When his father had found him tinkering with a wooden clock, he’d forced him to join the hunting party.

“They’re talking about us behind our back,” his father would say as he would usually say whenever he wanted him to mingle with the common elves.

The ivory elf had managed to get to his knees by now. His hands pressed into the moist soil beneath him. The ringing in his ears disoriented as he scrambled to find where his blade had gone. A sudden pain came from his side and swept over the rest of his body. He fell to the ground face first. The ivory elf gasped for air. He remembered why he was on the ground in the first place. The boar had gored him.

He shifted onto his other side where he could no longer see the fight with the boar. In between a pair of boulders, his silver blade rested with its characteristic glow. He must have dropped it after being hit by the boar’s charge. He once again reached for the trunk of a tree around him. They were plentiful down here in the darkness in the forest floor and would serve well to assist him to where his sword rested.

The pain swept over him again but he relented. If he didn’t get to his feet on his own, his savage elven brothers would surely abandon him to be eaten by the forest’s monsters. When their hold’s chieftain had found them preparing to leave, he’d immediately suspected him of ulterior motives. If only she’d know that it was the others who had plans to leave him to die.

By now, he’d arrived to the twin boulders and freed his blade from between them. He rotated to put his back on the boulder. He could see the other elves beginning to deliver the killing blows to the mother boar. They’d tired her out. The ivory elf struggled for air as the pain in his side continued. The path that he’d dragged himself through was drenched in his blood. Despite his efforts to keep his eyes open, they would close for long periods of time. Time began to warp around him.

At first he was looking at his ashen skinned brother delivering a spear through the boar’s neck. Erenox. His eyes would close once again and he would slip into his own darkness.

He could see the bronze skinned elf beginning to lift the boar into a net of vines that he and Erenox had made. They were preparing to leave. Diononn.

The ivory elf slipped into his darkness once more. His eyes would open and he would see nothing. They’d departed. They’d abandoned him. They’d left him to die. A sudden fade into blackness once more and his eyes would open again. In front of him stood a hulking shadow with two glowing jewels of amber where the ivory elf could barely make out the shape of shadow’s head.

“Khan has found you and you are at his mercy. Tell me your name, dagger eared,” the shadow demanded of him in its guttural tone.

His head lolled about. He struggled to keep himself upright. The pain in his side no longer came in pulses. The pain had enveloped his entire body. He fought through it and managed to look the shadow in its eyes. He squinted and focused himself. Above the shadow’s amber eyes were two long tufts protruding out of its head.

“Are those ears?”

 

(joint) 3rd Place

 

Lily

by matheu3

Spoiler

Lily

 

 

“Lovely, just lovely.”

 

All the visual delights of Axios could not pry my eyes from the beauty to my side, for all the others sights paled in comparison to her.

 

“Hm..  What.. ?”

 

My dearest, Lily, responded, her voice more melodious than the strings of a harp.

 

I smiled back; oh, how brightly I smiled!

 

“The roses,” I said at last, gesturing to the bed of roses.

 

“Oh,” Her innocent little face turned to address them, and she nodded with an effortless, “Thank you.”

 

I felt the sight needed a closer look, and so, I moved forward, closer. One thorough glance was all I needed to find the tragedy that was planted before me; some of the roses were wilted, limp against death’s grip. My expression plummeted; it would’ve twisted had she not been there.

 

 

I glanced up, eyes quarreling with the summer sun, “ Your roses haven’t been growing well these past few years...”

 

I saw her head droop for a moment. Her expression seemed to be stuck, paused, yet surely she was delighted that I paid mind to her flowers.

 

“...Yes, sadly so,“ was all that her pretty little lips could give back.

 

How strange. Was she that upset about it?

 

“You know,” my tone perked up, hoping to help her own, “I could grab a few dozen as I return from work tomorrow.”

 

My lips curled into a smile of reassurance.

 

“It’s fine, you don’t have to go through the trouble,” she gifted me with a simple but eloquent bend of the lips, “I’ll just plant more.”

 

Yet another strange reaction. Was it me she was upset with, and not the roses? I knitted my brow in concern at the very thought. All was definitely not right.

 

.

 

Jovial sunlight blanketed my side, and yet...

 

The dinner table was lonely. There was a seat just for her across from mine, yet it remained vacant, unwanted. Where had I gone wrong?

 

The fresh, oceanic scent of smoked fish waltzed about the room; it was Lily’s favorite dish. The mere smell was enough to enchant her. If anything could lift her spirits, it was this. The odor was only rivaled by the passionate scent of the smoky candle that rose from the center of the table. Such a small but vigorous lighthouse for our love it was.

 

I could only hope their allure would reach outside.

 

.

..

 

 

My fingers idly drummed against the table in a futile attempt to tear through the dreariness that had enveloped the room. I tried to spoon the contents of the bowl before me into my mouth but it failed to give my tongue any sensation whatsoever. I wager my taste buds were lonely, too. Just as the porridge slithered down my throat, my mind was roused with a realization.

 

The food was already cold, bitter. The meal I had lain out had gone neglected. How long had I been sitting here? The room was now dark, save for the meek presence of the moon. The candle’s light had finally been spirited away by its own fatigue. Its top, the now unoccupied stage for the sweltering flame, was sagged, molten.

 

My eyes remained fixated on the lonely chair, its shape hardly made out under the mask of darkness. I must’ve been staring at it long enough for it to stare back. No, it glared back. It didn’t like being stared at.

 

.

..

 

A couple hours must have passed. My legs felt deathly numb.

 

Suddenly, faint footfalls came about, shattering the silence in an instant.

 

My gaze darted to the side, and sure enough, just as before, it was enthralled by the beauty it beheld so dearly. Lily had finally retired from today’s gardening work. Pure joy, pure joy, she had finally come indoors!  I rose to my feet,  ready to greet her in the loving way she deserved, and yet…

 

Before any words were born from my tongue, my angel ascended to the bedroom.

 

I lamented. It seemed she wouldn’t be trying my cooking this time around, either.

 

How could this be?

 

She was mad --- at me of all people! But why? How could this be? What had I done? Oh creator, what had I done to invoke her ire so?

 

.

..

...

……

…….

……..

 

 

The bedroom was no better. My eyes were pinned to the ceiling, worrisome thoughts swirling in my mind. It seemed she wanted nothing to do with me, despite the night being so fine, despite the coat of night light shielding us from the pitch black.

 

Her snore was no snore; it was my fortune. It was the lullaby that swayed my weary soul to slumber, backed by a symphony of cicada song. A sign of her presence was all that I needed.

 

.

..

...

....

.....

 

Work was no priority of mine that day. It was nothing more than an obstacle situated between me and my dearest Lily. An early leave was granted by the deceptive cunning of my tongue, for which I thanked the creator with unmeasured gratitude. As far as my boss knew, I was in no condition to work. My back was nearly split open, I told him, that a fall had wounded me. And how I had fallen indeed!

 

.

..

...

 

 

My face was doused in sweat, not from a hard day’s work, but from the onslaught of footsteps that guided me to the local florist.

 

“Lovely, how lovely indeed.”

 

My gaze befell the cart that carried flowers, a plethora of variety.

 

The florist glanced toward my oncoming voice and greeted it with a, “Greetings, sir. I thank you. I do hope you enjoy the display I've set for today.”

 

His hand paraded across the air to showcase each and all of the blossomed heads.

 

“Roses,” I stated my desire almost immediately after his hand’s given tour.

 

“Give me two-.. No, three dozen. Its lace is of no importance, just make sure it matches what it holds.”

 

The florist gave a quick up and down of his head in acknowledgement. His hand soon busied with the arrangement of my soon-to-be-gift.

 

“A lucky lady she must be,” The florist’s lips rebounded against each other in curiosity.

 

A triumphant nod swayed from me. Even a stranger had the know-how on how much she meant to me.

 

The florist finished. In his hand was the bouquet that I wanted Lily’s eyes to fall upon, held together by a gleaming red string of yarn.

 

“Thank you.“

 

My left hand paid the man his just due minas, while the right freed the bouquet from his grasp and into mine.

 

.

..

….

…..

……

……..

 

 

It was as if the cupid himself rigged the world's odds to befit my quest.

 

There she was, right beside the road that lead to home.

 

“Lily,” My tone melted; it knew who it was addressing all too well.

 

She flashed me her pair of my treasured blues that were set just above her button nose. Yet, her gaze soon fled, misdirected away from me. She hadn’t even bothered to take notice the bouquet in my hand.

 

One thorough glance was all that I needed to stumble upon a dread-inducing sight.

 

A large chest fashioned from sturdy oak was the object subject to her attention.

 

“Lily? What is that? What are you doing?”

 

My voice quivered.

 

“Oh,” She tuned out, “A chest for my belongings. I’m going to stay at my mother’s.”

Her words punctured my heart, a gaping hole that seeped sorrow left in its wake.

 

I must’ve stared at the coffin that withheld our love for the longest time.

 

“Please, don’t leave me,“ was my mustered plead.

 

.

..

...

....

.....

......

 

The door sounded thrice with knocks. The sound produced was reminiscent of metal clashed against wood.

 

I swung the door open, and there stood a duo of guards.

 

“Sir, have you any knowledge on your neighbor’s whereabouts? She goes by the name of Lily,” One of them spoke. His voice reverberated from within the cover of his helmet.

 

“Last I spoke with her, she told me of her plan to stay at her mother’s residence.”

 

My lips were parched.

 

“All that I know.”

 

The duo faced each other for a moment.

 

Then, one of them nodded and spoke once more, “  Very well. If any more information on her location finds you, give us the word.”

 

They left.

 

Trailing behind them were the same clanks of metal that followed from when they first arrived.

.

 

“Sorry about that,” A smile pulled the tips of my lips heavenward.

 

I returned to my seating. The window to my side was now closed. It was no longer needed. After all, she was no longer beyond it. I abstained from lighting the candles; they were an irritation to my dearest now.

 

Her sapphire eyes were dry and lost their shine; her gaze was wilted.

 

The chair across from me was no longer lonely.

 

It was finally accompanied by her, my dearest, my sweetest.

 

It was decorated in velvet liquid; a beautiful sight it was indeed.

 

A bouquet of sanguine roses were spread across the table. The one made for my dearest, my sweetest, my loveliest.

 

Her chest was splayed open. Her bare, pure, innocent heart just for me. It could no longer flee. It was displayed just for me, and me alone. The one belonging to my dearest, Lily.

 

And now it belonged to me as well.

 

“You look lovely, just lovely.”

 

 

Fleeting Time

by 6xdestroyer

Spoiler

Fleeting Time

-+-

The deep and dark valleys were I all I saw. The cracks and pops of an intense battle being waged in the heart of the hearth causing little distraction, as my eyes traced the lines that curved and splintered off like the branches of a mighty spruce. As the dry, icy air invaded my thoughts, I kept my eyes still focused on the ceiling, tracing these mighty canyons in the rock above. Each branch seemed to lead my mind to a differing thought. There was the war with the rebel dogs at the border, and the rise of men without laws in the South. There were the thoughts of family, those living and those dead, the thoughts of tactics and recounting victories and defeats. There was the thought of growing age and the amount of time left to finalize plans.

After a short time, I was dropped back into the realm of reality, and the clanging of metal and shouting of men began to fill the air outside. I arose from the heavy sheets which warded off the nightly besiege of fluctuating freezing temperatures, and wrapped them around myself. Moving to the small window like slit, I gazed upon Gryphon's Nest from my tower quarters, as a sense of reminiscence filled my mind sending me back to the days of the young Duke Otto, and the construction of the fort. I began once more to explore my warped and unusual past, that of the small forest county of Kvaz and times of blissful ignorance with Osgod and Lerald. The times spent alongside Osgod, rising through Imperial ranks, as but unknown men from the North. As I begin to delve deeper into thought, I am interrupted by a knock on the dark and heavy timber door.

Dressing in woolen garb, I exit the room accompanied by the footman who had knocked just a short while earlier. As we pace down the steps towards the armoury, I am once again informed about the war effort, the positions, supplies, morale of those dogs which thought it in their best interest to Defy me. Defy my Brothers of the Sea. Defy the wrath of Carnatia. Having gone to the armory to don proper battle apparel, I once again pace down the familiar stairwell, to reach the bottom of the floor.  Knowing the march to Curon Forest to be short yet seem always longer than it aught be, the officers of the Corps ensure all men are properly equipped in fitting plate made with adequate food. Calling for Andrik, a tested and trusted equine beast of strong discipline, I begin to ensure all that is needed is stored in the bags draped over his back.

The ride is easier than usual, as the two armies meet, the rebellious Courlandic dogs position deep themselves within the trees. As the sides begin to form, I ready a heavy Carnatian Lance, trotting about through the infantrymen, forming together the cavalry. Horses of all different shades make up the line, and the differing armours and tabards show for a variety of attendance and weapon styles. Those atop horse prepare themselves, most having years upon years of brutal training and all having drawn the blood of their opponents at least once before. The war horn does not startle me, as it does a few infantry whom are taken by surprise with its deep resonance throughout the patchy forest. With the scream of the horn, the horsemen dispatch, knowing their job as the first foolish horse backed opponent clears the thicket, meeting the end of my lance as the charge increases. As the infantry deal with the now dazed and cockeyed rebel, I am far past now, a steady charging pace as the rhythm of the hooves on the dry ground continue on.

With a lance, and enemy army, now dulled beyond the point of repair, the exclamations of victory ring throughout, as men go around picking out treasures for stories to come. I think back to my first day's fighting, those of defending a crumbling capital against mercenary raiders, and then driving them back from a new one. I remember seeing my children born and married off, and the constant whines from Sergei to learn to fight. I think to the times of Sergei’s victories at Imperial and Northern tournaments alike, lancing off all that opposed him. Then I am forced to be brought back to the newly raised camp at the base of the Courlandic Capital.

Seeming unable to maintain a thought, I am plunged into remembering my saviors of the new Emperor against tyrants and plotters. Remembering the attempts of Savoy to reclaim their lost throne, and then their deaths in their attempt to do so. The thoughts of then saving yet another Emperor fill my mind as I try to count the times. I determine about eight times over had I saved the lives of those leading the Horen dynasty, and smile before branching off into a different train of thought. I shall always have place in my heart for the Church, and the Knights of the Black Sepulchre. Reminded of my construction of way shrines throughout Vailor, and embraced by the warm touch of God, I feel an arm reach to my shoulder.

As I am gently awoken, I recall my situation before coughing up a piece of my soul and looking to Sergei and his daughter at his side. Looking and listening to them for a short while, I am reminded of my long life and prosperity, and grab Reza’s hand, squeezing it tightly. I hope that it will tether me to reality as I enter a realm of dreams and spirits. After all, death is only another branch of those never-ending cracks in the ceiling at Gryphons watch. With a smile on my face I fall into the heavenly realm of God above. 

-+-

 

If you blink, you might just miss it

by Alliece

Spoiler

[Disclaimer: The only character I own is Ecaeris.]

(super nervous about posting this, help)

 

If you blink, you might miss it.

Everything can happen in the blink of an eye. You might miss a shooting star, or perhaps you’ll miss a look in a crowd. You may even miss the death of a loved one, or their smile. I’ve always known that nothing lasts forever, but with the warmth of the blue flames tickling my skin, I wish that it could have lasted forever.

The blue light clouds my vision, and I blink.

It was so long ago; I hardly remember it. But as I blink, I can see and feel what happened before. What I almost forgot about. I was only just starting my work, my hands wiping down a bottle. The clatter of the tavern fills my ears, people laughing and existing among themselves. A void fills my chest and I can feel my throat constrict, as if I can’t breathe.

“Hey.” I hear a voice from behind me, unrecognizable. I turn to a ‘Ker, similar to the rest. Nothing particularly interesting stands out about him.

“Hm?” I hum in a dull tone. His buddies give me a look from behind him, I assume they must have been in a deep conversation from how their eyes bore into mine.

“Have you heard of them? The Warhawkes?” He inquires, his was arm rested on the counter as he studied me. I purse my lips and shake my head.

“Ah, well… If you ever see one, better run fast. They’re savages, you know.” He tips his glass to me before turning back to his group of friends. I silently wonder to myself what that was all about. With the intriguing thought in mind, I turn back to cleaning the bottles.

Inhaling, I blink.

A young ‘Ker stares back at me in the mirror. My white locks dominate the image, and I grit my teeth. I can’t do this.

Without any hesitation, I grab the pair of scissors rested on the counter and grab a fistful of my hair. I squeeze my eyes shut, putting pressure on the blades. Snip. White tendrils of hair fall to my feet and I open my eyes slowly. A grin spreads across my features at my appearance and I grab the jar of dye, beginning to apply the black resin to my hair. I know full well how it will stain my fingertips a deep ebony color, but I don’t mind. Only moments later, the same ‘Ker stares back at me. But there’s a brighter look in her blue eyes, and the once white curls were now short and jet black.

“Ecaeris Aradan…” I whisper to my reflection. The name sounds weird on my tongue, but it gives me a giddy sense of relief.

I blink.

“I’d like to introduce our new member,” Rei announces to the table of Warhawkes. My eyes drift across the Mali’Ker, my eyes briefly lagging on the singular ‘Aheral and human before a large smile spreads across my features.

“Ecaeris Aradan.” I nod to them. A chorus of welcomes reach my ears and I follow Rei to the table. As I take my seat, I can feel my heart pounding against my chest. With nerves? Excitement? I can’t tell. The ‘Ker I sit next to is of a strong built frame, I take note of the crimson eyes and strange hair combination.

“So, Ecaeris. Where are you from?” One asks me, female. My eyes drift to her and I quickly notice her rounded belly, she looked beautiful nonetheless.

“Oh, I just… Travel around…” My response lags as I avoid telling them I had come from Ebonglade. She smiles warmly at me, and the conversation rolls across the table. We discuss our lives and they give me the rundown of what the Warhawkes are like.

I went to bed that night in the Keep with a sense of comfort, like I was at home. A feeling I had never felt before.

My eyes slowly flutter closed as I am pulled into the embrace of sleep.

When they open again, the same warmth of the fire hits my skin. But instead it comes from the gentle flame of a campfire. Talar’s arm is rested across my shoulders, and I am slumped into his side. I see Rei and Ray on the other side of the flames, my eyes find the moon’s reflection gently flickering on the water of the river just behind them. I notice Leila and Leona to my left, and I see Erolas and Vas on the right.

“And that was when Ecaeris came up with the idea to hang one of us to talk with the ghost!” Leila exclaimed with a loud laugh, drink in hand. I laughed too.

“Wait wait wait… Ecaeris suggested what?!” Vas shot me a concerned look and I waved it off.

“Well, it was an okay idea~” I shrugged nonchalantly before taking a sip of my own drink.

“Maybe we should have you do that…” Ray muttered, almost inaudibly. My ears flickered and I pointed at him, raising a little from my seat.

“Hey!” I shouted in defense before pausing, “I would totally do that!” The others around the campfire erupted in laughter and I fell back into Talar’s side with my own giggle.

“What about that one time Ecaeris beat up that girl for having a crush on me.” Vas chimed in.

“She was like a hundred years older than you!!” I exclaimed loudly. More laughter followed and I took another swig of my drink.

As the laughter died down, our eyes drifted across the landscape. Mine found the stars as I thought back to all the times I had studied them and shared my discoveries with the others, or how Talar had planned to have a tower when we moved to Axios.

“Anyways…” Rei stood up, my eyes drifted to him. “We’ve been through a lot of ****, but hey. I’m proud of us.” He offers a smile to everyone before raising his drink. “To the Warhawkes!” He exclaims. We all raise ours as well…

“Warhawkes!” Several hoots and hollers sound across the group, even a Warhawke cry. I laugh with the others before I take another sip of my drink.

My eyes close as the glass meets my lips.

When I open my eyes again, I see another ‘Ker. He stands taller than me, his thumbs gently brush against my cheeks as he looks across my face. I instantly recognize the small scar on his upper lip and the shade of his deep red eyes. My hands are rested on his wrists.

“Jayce…” I mutter, the name reaching my lips with a feeling of comfort and love. “Should we be doing this?” I say quietly. My mind blocking everything else out except the feeling of his hands on my skin and the look on his face.

“I don’t care if we should or shouldn’t be…” He murmurs back to me, his forehead moving to rest against mine. My eyes flutter closed for a moment. “Whatever it takes, I won’t lose you… I love you, Ecaeris…” I can feel his breath against my skin, and goosebumps raise on my arms with a slight shiver.

My eyes open slowly as I meet his gaze again, “I love you too, Jayce…” A small smile makes its way onto my features. My heart pounding against my chest as his lips move closer to mine.

I close my eyes as they meet in the middle.

My eyes open again, I see Erolas standing in front of me. He’s armored heavily with a shield on his back. My fingers drum against the hilt of my sword.

“We need to be prepared if they come.” He explains to the others around me. I look over to the other guards, my eyes picking out Rei and Leona in the group.

“Right, but what if they don’t?” I turn back to Erolas, hoping the small joke would at least put a smile on his face. He gives me a dreadful eye, and I tense up.

“They’re coming, Ecaeris. Come on.” He makes his way from the tent and I bite down on my bottom lip before following close behind. I pull my hood over my head as the rain pours down on us.

Blood could be spilled today. I press a kiss to the wooden necklace around my neck. Not today.

I follow him to the front gate as I watch the road carefully, my eyes trying to pick out anything in the rain. As time passes, shapes slowly begin to form in the downpour, and a feeling of dread forms in my gut. I pull my bow over my shoulder and grab an arrow, aiming to the closest figure. My heart pounds against my chest as I take aim, taking a deep breath.

My eyes close as I fire.

I open my eyes again, only they burn this time. Tears wet my cheeks and the air seems to be escaping my lungs. My throat feels dry and I don’t recognize the stone walls that surround me. I cough and choke on my own tears, hugging the pillow tighter to myself.

My nose stings with pain, and I’m not sure if the blood had dried yet or not. The sight of the blood on my knuckles and under my fingernails is enough to put me back into another state of distress. I quickly sit up in the bed and lick my thumb. I try to rub the blood from my knuckles and pick it from my fingernails, but I soon find myself in another fit of choked sobs.

I collapse forward onto the bed as I hold my hands close to my chest, unable to comprehend anything other than the dread and grief I feel pounding in my chest.

I squeeze my eyes shut as more tears fall onto the blankets.

When they open again, I see a blue sky and sunshine falls to my feet. My body shaded by the leaves and branches of the large tree above me. I see the city of Riv’vallel before the tree, in tact. My back is pressed against the tree, my fingertips brushing against the blades of grass around me.

“This sucks.” A voice says beside me, I glance over to Leila.

“I know…” I mutter, looking down at the flower between us. I pick it and begin to play with the petals.

“I have a family. We all have a family. And they’re ripping that away from us.” She says in a heated tone, “And…” She chokes a little, I can hear the tears in her voice. “And Rei…”

I pick another petal and it floats away in the wind, “I know…” I mutter again. “But this isn’t the end…” I pick several more petals, watching them as they fly. Her hand falls on my shoulder, and I turn to look at her.

“Please, promise me we’ll find each other again.” Her bottom lip quivers with coming tears and I nod slowly, sitting up to bring her into a tight embrace.

“I promise…” I mutter.

My eyes close again as she cries on my shoulder, the last petal falling from the flower and drifting away in the wind.

Again, my eyes open–and I’m back at the end.

The blue flames roar in the dead of night. Erolas, Leona, and Leila all stand by my side as we watch the fire engulf Riv’vallel. Sparks and smoke fly throughout the air, and I watch as the large totem at the front of the city finally collapses from its own weight. The flames grow brighter and kiss the dark night sky.

My gaze moves to focus on the stars above me, the ones I had studied and named.

Everything we had been through, we went through together. I would never give up our fight, and we knew that we would never say goodbye.

With the desire and longing for the people I had come to love burning deep in my chest, I close my eyes again as the crackle of the flames fills my senses.

“Van'ayla ito igne'acaela.” I whisper into the night.

 

With the introduction of the Event Team 2.0 created by Kai, I'm going to be working with him and the other people who signed up for that to help bring more competitions and events out regularly and have them judged much quicker than this one in the future. I enjoyed reading through each and every entry, to those of you who didn't win, and didn't find one single 'bad' piece of writing. 

[MyNameIsMason 269]

First

[El Ricktador 1394]

Wtf Creative Wizard PogChamp +1

[Matheus 559]

close enough

[Kiiwi 1440]

AYYYY ALLLLIE AND RICKY, PROUD OF YOU GUYS, ALSO LEILATHA IS NOW FAMOUS

[Adelemphii 1766]

Yu guis did a writing competition without a meh? You guys are no fun man.

[Anonymous_Potato 27]

Great job, winners! I love them all!