• Published 16th Jun 2015
  • 7,162 Views, 224 Comments

When The Snow Melts - Bluespectre



In the forest of bamboo, the first snows of winter have begun to fall. A white blanket begins to cover the quiet hills the reed worker calls home. His quiet and peaceful life is changed forever by the discovery of a stranger in the snow.

  • ...
29
 224
 7,162

PreviousChapters Next
Chapter Sixteen - Warrior of the Goddess

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

WARRIOR OF THE GODDESS

Everything was white. No up, no down, just an intensely bitter cold burning his face. His lungs felt like they were on fire, screaming for air… He couldn’t breathe! In a panic, Cray tried to push himself up, finding neither his hands, arms, legs, or feet would move no matter how much he struggled. His heart pounding, Cray opened his mouth to cry out, only to find it too had been immobilised.

Suddenly, mercifully, he found himself pulled up bodily out of the snow drift and flipped over, only to be shoved roughly up against something hard. Biting snow stuck to his face, soaking Cray’s eyes and blurring his vision, but with a vigorous shake of his head, he managed to shake most of it free. The foul rag that had been stuffed into his mouth was unceremoniously pulled free, and he leaned back, gasping in the fresh air. What was going on? Why couldn’t he move? Oh gods…bandits…

All the villagers knew the dangers of the hills. The stories of malevolent gods, mischievous spirits, strange lights at night, and human disappearances were passed down from generation to generation. How many of them were true and how many were no more than legends used to frighten the gullible or keep children from wandering, Cray had never really been able to say. If pushed, he’d have chosen the latter, but his family had always had a healthy respect for the gods and spirits of their lands.

The hills were normally a quiet and peaceful place to live and work. In more recent years, though, incessant warring between the numerous clans had often resulted in a deposed leader who’d found himself on the wrong end of a sword, spear, or some other more inventive method they liked to use on one another. Unfortunately for the villagers, the removal of the one who paid your wages left a lot of hungry mouths. Those hungry mouths, more often than not, came complete with combat training, weapons, and a superiority attitude that meant trouble for any farm or village in their path.

The village had food, food meant survival, and these jobless warriors needed to survive like any other creature. The problem was that they didn’t just ask, they didn’t even offer to work for it; they simply took what they wanted. It wasn’t just food either. If it hadn’t been for the gambling hall’s boss and his men, they’d have been left with no protection at all. He might be a villain, but at heart, he cared about the village as much as anybody.

By and large, the bandits had left them alone since Chert and his boys came to town. Had they changed their tactics? He’d best play along, do as he was told, and hopefully he could get away before they decided to—

What was that?

It was still dark, probably the small hours of the morning. The small campfire snapped and popped invitingly, sending its light out to glint off the figure tending it. Cray stared at it in horror. This couldn’t be real, could it? Dear gods, he must have hit his head a lot harder than he thought, but… He struggled; the bindings on his limbs were all too real, biting into his skin painfully. He stopped and relaxed his limbs. It was probably best to avoid drawing attention to himself.

The thing by the fire shone in the moonlight, the pale glow mingling with the yellow of the flames, outlining what looked like some kind of nightmarish horse; one that was wearing armour as black at the night sky. The ‘horse’ was feeding wood into the fire, taking pieces in its teeth and then tossing them in while it sat back on its haunches. Incredibly, the horse picked up—actually picked up—a length of bamboo and held it in its hooves, blowing into the fire the same way people did! He was sure there was a legend about this sort of thing, one that spoke of sentient animals. What was it now? Something about a boy and a tortoise, something like that.

He caught his breath when the beast fixed its gaze upon him. An eye as red as blood, flickering like the flames of the fire, stared at him with an intensity that transfixed his soul. This was no horse; this was no friendly spirit from a child’s fairy tale. No… this was the one, the beast that had killed Blossom, the one that had—

It hissed at him, a long series of clicks and shrieks that were like nails in his ears. Was it trying to speak? Cray shook his head, keeping quiet. The elders in the village had warned them about what to do if caught by bandits, and it generally revolved around keeping quiet, doing what you were told, and staying alive. Eventually, he was told, they would get bored and let you go. Or kill you. Hopefully, if he kept quiet and didn’t make any threatening moves, he’d survive this.

The thing watched him for a moment, then shrugged and looked away. Using a combination of its hooves and teeth to unclip the cinches on its armour, the heavy plates began to drop one piece at a time onto the ground with a dull thud. Cray watched in amazement as the last piece was removed, revealing the bony creature underneath. It was like a nightmare come to life before his very eyes. The thing’s coat was almost as black as its armour, its mane and tail defined by the slightest hint of deepest blue. Despite its nigh-on skeletal appearance, the creature emitted an impressive aura of power, strength, and fitness from its muzzle to its tail. It was the teeth that had Cray worried the most: a wicked array of long, thin, almost translucent spikes poked up out of the sides its mouth. They would have been used to… to eat…

Oh gods, it was getting up!

The horse thing stretched, rising to its hooves and hissed, apparently in pain. Although horrified at the alien spectacle before him, Cray noticed the wetness on the creature's body, the aggressive looking gashes and tears in its hide. It was hurt, and he knew all too well how dangerous a wounded beast could be.

Slowly, the thing approached, leaning its muzzle down until it was inches from his face and displaying those wicked teeth. It sniffed him, a great huffing intake of air that made Cray wince and try to back away. A pair of bright red eyes bored into him, flickering with their own inner fire.

“You understand me?”

Cray’s eyes went wide. How was this…this…whatever it was, speaking? Its mouth was moving, but the words appeared to be bypassing his ears and materialising in his brain with the force of a lump hammer. It was deafening.

The creature leaned forward. “I said, ‘Do you understand me?’”

The blacksmith winced at the verbal assault and nodded his head. “Yes! Yes, I understand you.”

“Good.” The thing smiled. An array of translucent teeth as long as his hand caught the moonlight, and he took a breath.

“Good…”

Cray’s heart felt like it would burst out of his chest as the horse-like being leaned back and then, rising to its hooves, walked slowly back to sit by the campfire once more. By the gods, how long was it until morning? Surely it wouldn’t be long now? He closed his eyes, praying that someone would come looking for him. This thing’s eyes; they were unnatural, cruel, like one of the legends of beasts from the depths of the numerous hells his people believed in. Maybe it was a forest deity? He’d heard of how they could turn on humans if angered; had they not shown enough respect and it had come to punish them?

His musings died in the bitter cold of the forest night. The heat from the fire was so tantalisingly close and yet just far enough away to have little to no discernible effect. Cray strained to edge a little closer, trying to feel just the tiniest bit of its warmth. A snort of derision made his freeze. Daring to look across at the thing, it fixed him with a look of disdain, a sneer that said all he needed to know about how the creature viewed him. Humans meant nothing to this beast, nothing at all.

Cray closed his eyes and prayed silently to the hill gods. His family had always made offerings, observed the will of the gods, yet he was here like this! But… he was alive, wasn’t he? Perhaps this was the will of the gods as well, for him to be spared out of all the others.

The creature rose to its feet, or rather ‘hooves’, and stretched, a half-eaten rabbit dangling from its mouth. He watched as it dropped to its haunches before him, taking the rabbit in its hooves and tearing off a chunk. The smell of the meat caught his nose, and he watched it disappearing down the things throat.

“Hungry?”

Cray shook his head. It was best not to appear too eager—the thing might get angry. It sat there watching him, those eyes taking in his every move, every facial expression.

“Are you wondering why I spared you?”

Cray nodded slowly but kept silent. The thing huffed a jet of steam from its large nostrils.

“I may answer…yes…I may.”

It took another bite of the rabbit, chewing slowly, smiling, watching him, always watching,

“You may ask me a question…if you wish. I may even answer.”

Cray nearly choked, his eyes kept focussing on the rabbit, those huge teeth that made such short work of the meat. If this was a forest god or spirit and he angered it, it would tear him apart. Despite that, it seemed to want him to speak. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice calm, level and above all, respectful.

“May…May I ask who you are? What you are? I…I’ve never met anything like you.”

The horse-like creature began crunching the bones of the rabbit. That deafening voice in his head slammed back again. “That’s two questions, my greedy one. Shall I indulge your greed?” It laughed quietly. “Very well.”

The creature stood and shook out its wings, huge bat-like appendages that rippled and sparkled like diamonds. Cray had never seen such a sight! Noticing his awe, the beast grinned, then suddenly reared on it hind legs, blasting a jet of flame up into the sky.

“I am a thestral warrior of the goddess of the moon!” Its voice thundered into his head, making his body vibrate with its energy. “The one true goddess, the one who will bring my people out from the empty lands to join her in a glorious future beneath her radiant glow.”

It sat, waiting for his response. Cray didn’t know what to say, but… it was a warrior of the moon goddess? His people worshipped many gods, and the moon goddess was but one of many. Still, he hadn’t ever heard of them having their own warriors before, and yet… it made sense. He was certainly not of this earth, so far as he knew. It was all so confusing!

He felt he should be bowing before the warrior, but physically couldn’t. Cray was still trussed up like a chicken ready for the pot and was helpless. What was he going to do? He didn’t want to anger the creature further.

“You asked who I am,” the creature said proudly. “The name given to me by my tribe is Rend.”

The thestral swallowed down the last of the rabbit and lifted a small phial that hung from a thong around his neck. He sniffed it thoughtfully, nodding to himself and inhaled deeply.

“Now… you will answer my questions. All of them.”

Cray closed his eyes and nodded. He’d best appease this ‘thestral’ or else he might follow the rabbit as a meal for this great warrior of the goddess.

“Yes, Lord Rend.”

The thestral sat back, blinking, apparently surprised. To Cray’s alarm, the warrior then began to laugh, quietly at first and then louder, until its voice boomed out around them, shaking the very snow from the trees. He cringed inwardly; something told him he would be unlikely to ever see his family alive again, at least, not in this life.

***

Rend shook his mane and made himself as comfortable as he could. This probably wouldn’t take that long after all. The monkey creature was unexpectedly compliant, like putty in his hooves. Perhaps he wouldn’t even need to torture the thing into helping him. He was obviously in awe of him, of his size and strength. Maybe… Maybe the thing even saw him as a god! He tapped a hoof against his chin. Yes, that must be it. In this world he was… the god of vengeance, the hammer of the Celestians. This monkey would help him; he would use him as a tool to help strike down that evil witch and take her head as a trophy.

He stared into the thing’s eyes. Yes, that would work, and then… then he would slay that traitorous cur, Thorn, the rat who had sided with the witch herself. He had no doubt been enamoured with her, probably letting her use him like a puppet for her own twisted amusement. Well, now he had his own puppet, one of the people of this land, and he would become his eyes and ears here whether he liked it or not. A few tugs of the strings and he would have all he wanted, perhaps even to be this world’s new living god… Rend, the god. He laughed—this truly was a gift from the goddess, a gift for the good work she knew he would do. Saying a silent prayer to her, he closed his eyes and sighed. He would make her proud of him.

Author's Note:

Edited by JBL

PreviousChapters Next