Post by Merik Derath on Apr 10, 2009 19:44:29 GMT -5
"Don't worry. I'll protect you. They'll never lay a hand on you."
*~*~*~*~*
*~*~*~*~*
She was sobbing quietly, her shoulders jerking up and down periodically. The dirt on her young face was smeared by tears. Her long raven hair was full of twigs and leaves, and her clothes had been torn by branches and thorns in the underbrush. I adjusted the scabbard at my waist, my white-knuckled hand gripping the hilt as I scanned the darkness of the forest. I was thankful that we at least had some manner of cover, but knew that even that advantage would be lost shortly, once we emerged into the Erandian Plains.
I looked down at her for a moment, and felt the familiar rage building inside of me. She's barely even a teenager...what could she have done that was so horrible? I thought as I resumed my vigil. At the first sign of movement, I knew that no matter how tired she was, we would have to move again. The Inquisitors were very skilled at their trade. Had they not been born into the Clergy, they would most likely have become feared assassins or legendary thieves...instead, they used their inherent stealth to move upon their prey--the so-called heretics--in the middle of broad daylight if need be. Of course, they were much more dangerous when sheathed in darkness.
We rested for perhaps an hour...then, through the trees, I heard the barely perceptible snap of a twig.
I turned and shook her; her wide, watery grey eyes flew open wide with fear. I sighed, and brushed her bangs away from her face. Wordlessly, she nodded, and stood up, favoring her right leg--the left ankle having gotten sprained during our flight from Niyrtel two days prior. I took the bread crust she had been clutching and placed it delicately into the pouch at her waist. Then I stopped, letting her pull herself onto my back. I hooked my hands under her knees, felt her arms wrap weakly around my neck...and on we continued.
*~*~*~*~*
Somehow, we had evaded them...at least, it seemed that way. It was always hard to tell with the Inquisitors. They may very well have us in their sights at this very moment. They were notorious for toying with their prey--letting them think they were in the clear, allowing them to feel falsely secure before they pounced. Before they dragged them to Sanctuary, down into the Extraction Chambers...
A cold chill ran down my spine at the thought. The warm body on my back hadn't even had her first kiss yet. There was no way I was going to let the Inquisitors take her, no matter what they thought she had done. I swore on my life to her father as he lie there, bleeding to death on the floor of the tavern--heresy be damned.
Now, out in the Erandian Plains, our only hope was traveling as long as we possibly could. She was exhausted, stressed, tired, and fearful.
At this rate, she might die of fright before they could claim her. Ruefully, I realized that any death besides what she would find in the catacombs of Sanctuary was preferable...
*~*~*~*~*
14th of Quel'ara
I thought I saw them over a hill, sunlight glinting off their polished white helms.
How many are there...?
She is sleeping. We had to stop sooner than I'd hoped.
Five days now.
She has a fever. She is shaking, her skin pale, eyes sunken.
We haven't eaten in just as long. I can feel my own strength being sapped.
Now all I can do is pray to The Four...
*~*~*~*~*
16th of Quel'ara
"Seven days. Torrill in sight from a hill. Salvation.
She's dying. Won't hold on much longer. Too close to the Southlands...too cold.
Running the risk of being killed by monsters from the frozen wastes.
Saw Inquisitor yesterday, standing arrogantly on hill, watching her sleep.
Stared at him for what felt like eternity. Finally left.
We're running out of time.
[tears have stained the page, smearing the writing]
*~*~*~*~*
I threw the crumpled journal entries into the wind.
Ten days had passed. Now, their flight was at an end.
The five of us descended on them in the night. They had been too exhausted, too deeply asleep, to even hear us coming.
We grabbed the girl. Her guardian flew into a rage, diminished by his exhaustion. He swung his sword weakly, obviously drained from the lack of food, water, and rest.
I made my orders and intentions clear. “Let the Messiah's will be done by thine hand, brothers.”.
With an impressive zeal, Methad sent his mace crashing into the man's sternum. The emaciated protector coughed blood as he crumpled to his knees, the blade falling harmlessly to the side.
"Don't worry. I'll protect you. They'll never lay a hand on you." I had heard him say one night, while I watched them from only a few feet away. I allowed myself a small smile at our victory.
The other four were beating him ceaselessly now. The girl in my arms whimpered, and for the first time began struggling.
I watched him try to rise, before Methad slammed the mace into his spine.
I heard a crunching sound, and he fell limp to the ground.
The girl screamed, muffled by my hand over her mouth. Then she went silent.
“We're done here. Let us return to Sanctuary.”
A slight jerk of her head, and suddenly the girl fell limp in my arms...but not of my doing. I looked down, and saw blood oozing from her ears, her eyes, her nose, and her mouth. Just as I'd feared. Her accomplice had reserved enough energy to cause her brain to burst.
I frowned. Throwing the limp body of the girl to the side, I advanced on the man lying on the bloodstained grass.
I knelt, adjusting my stole, and laid a hand on his head.
“How deplorable...killing your own charge. You are truly a beast, an ouzza-begotten blight on the land. In the name of The Four, and their Chosen One, I release you from your torment. May mercy be shown, that you might know Love and Good at Their feet.”
My purifying fire summarily consumed him in moments, leaving but a black char-mark on the ground as his grave marker. I rose, brushing ash from my cloak as I looked to each of my subordinates in turn.
“Sloppy...especially you, Methad. Headquarters shall hear of your failure.” I sighed, and offered them each a morbid smile. “At least the heretic is dead.” I spat on the charred grass, before turning away. The four men followed silently, heads bowed.
They knew what awaited them when we returned to Sanctuary.
Again, I afforded myself a small grin.