Breaking Lies: Stars and Fire

Chapter Four (Part One)

The fire danced, spitting orange pieces of ash on the ground. Cedric and I had walked for a couple of hours, changing the pace to a jog every so often, just as precaution.

Eventually, we reached the end of the woods. It was dusk and Cedric decided it'd be safer to stay put in the forest. There was still a chance that the Crown Prince's guards were waiting by the town's watch, and it wasn't worth the risk of finding out. Especially in the dark. Tomorrow we'd worry about that.

Our meal was nothing more than some dry meat and small portions of bread. We didn't want to eat too much of our rations too fast.

I couldn't stop thinking about my skills. What skill did I really have? The strange man in the woods really touched a nerve. Cedric was fit, strong, able to use weapons, and well, a Ranger! But what about me? Sure, I was strong for a girl, maybe, from the workouts in Daofen, and yeah, maybe I had somewhat of a tough outer shell, but inside, I was a scared girl. I had anxiety and weird dreams. I couldn't track or hunt. The only thing I could do was defend myself. Somewhat.

"How long did it take you to train, Cedric? As a Ranger?" I asked in what I hoped was a nonchalant voice.

He looked up, his mouth full of food. I nearly burst out laughing at how stupid he looked, but held it in. He swallowed and said, "four years."

Four years. That comforted me in a way. It wasn't overnight that he was able to do what he could.

"So what does Ranger really do?" I asked.

"We protect the kingdom. We scout, protect, and report. All to the King."

"So you're like...the King's army?" that's what it sounded like to me.

"No," he said slowly, "more like...the Intelligence. But we do it all the time. Not only in war."

I'd heard of the Intelligence. They were the King's spies that he would send out in time of war. They would collect information about the other side by posing as the enemy and reporting back information to the King. It was dangerous work, and not to mention extremely difficult. Only the most elite were picked for it.

"What skills do you have?"

He barked a laugh in a scorning tone. "None that you have. We can shoot better than any bowsman, tracking, hand-to-hand combat–"

"I can do hand-to-hand combat, Mr. Ego," I sneered.

His eyebrow shot up. That action really was beginning to infuriate me. "Oh?" doubt laced his voice.

"Yes, I can," I said proudly.

He looked at me with a completely straight and relaxed face. I wasn't sure what to say, so I stayed silent, my chin raised. Then, as quick as someone who trained for years, Cedric sprang up and forward, throwing a punch at my left. I dogged it and scrambled back. Without hesitation, he feinted to the right and grabbed my arm, twisting it around my back and pushing my shoulder down. I grunted in pain and tried to shake him off, but I couldn't. Abandoning that plan, I bent forward, kicking him in the shins. His hold weakened slightly and I took my chance. I swung around, and attempted to punch him by the temple, but he ducked and elbowed me in the side instead. I cursed loudly and before I could do anything, he held me in a choke hold, his arm around my chest while his other hand started to punch me in the temple. I whimpered and just an inch before his fist made contact with my head, he stopped.

"Yes, you do fine in hand-to-hand. Next time, don't let me win so easily."

He let me go, and I scrambled away, muttering under my breath.

"You mutter a lot under your breath, you know that, right?" Cedric said.

I looked at him with my jaw tense. "Oh? I'm sorry," sarcasm dripped in my voice, "maybe you want to know what I said? I said, ' by Numaer's blood, I'll get you back for this'."

He laughed. It sounded full of scorn. "Right. Okay. Ilka save me," he rolled his eyes to heaven.

I narrowed my eyes at him and vowed revenge.

Cedric offered to take the first watch again, and I agreed gratefully. I was exhausted from all the walking and climbing in the forest.

As I was falling asleep I could barely believe what I was doing. Here I was, lying in a forest, listening to nature sounds and actually finding them comforting, and barely even worrying. Something about the chirp of crickets and the hoot of the owls soothed me. And the forest spread, the leaves and branches, in a strange way, they were comfortable, like a bed I never had.

But the best things were the stars. They were an ocean of light. A torch in the darkness. Lights of hope.

They were so far away, but yet so close. And there were millions. Millions that had been there for centuries. Millions that shone every night, no matter what. The stars were lights I had never had. They illuminated the forest, making the trees appear glowing. I inhaled the fresh air, smelling the pine. With one last glance upwards, the stars glinted at me, as if winking me to sleep.

I am sitting on the stone floor of my cell. I am about eight years old. With a small stone, I draw some symbols on the floor. A prisoner passes by, yelling something. I ignore him. The yells of prison are normal to me by now.

I finish what I was drawing and look at it proudly.

An eagle wing on fire. I smile, but as a guard approaches, I brush away my art.

The dream shifts. I am now ten. A woman to my right hisses, "A, you have to be careful! The guards are looking for any excuse to whip you! Especially you! Now mind your business and keep your head down!"

I am startled, but I dare to ask, "why do they care about me so much?"

"Because of what you know, A."

The dream shifts again, this time I am on the floor, sobbing and moaning. I hear the snap of a whip and cry out as it stings my back. I try to crawl away, but the whipper won't let me move. Another slash of the whip. Another moan. Someone shouts. Through half closed eyes, I see a boy, a little older than me. He is dressed in royal clothes. He yells at the guards angrily and orders them to stop. I don't hear their response. Instead, I black out.