Warrior Of Light [Complete/Editing]

Chapter Two - Part One

Darkness swallowed the world. The orange moon hanging in the sky shed little light, just enough to see the brush and trees before colliding with them. Terrifying sounds accosted Joenek's ears – piercing shrieks, guttural, snorting growls, and scraping thuds – as a creature beyond imagining pursued him.

Joenek's chest exploded in pain and his heart pounded so hard it would burst. The creature's panting had a rhythmic cadence, never far, its sticky, warm breath a force that threatened to suffocate. Joenek ran, frantic, the landscape a blur. He tripped, stumbled, righted himself, and would have pondered the odd weight pressing on his shoulders and neck, thumping against his back, had he not struggled to stay upright while dodging a branch.

Splashing punctuated the pauses in the creature's breath. A painful chill crept up Joenek's pants, taking his breath away. His joints ached. Waist-deep in murky water, he turned; something tightened around his neck.

The child, he thought, though he could not recall who it was; only that he must protect it.

He tried to speak calming words of reassurance. His mouth was incapable of forming words. Even if he could speak, what could he possibly say? Death loomed at the edge of the tree line, pacing, snarling, wicked eyes freezing Joenek in place. His gut twisted and he swallowed a scream. The creature gave one last growl before leaping in the air.

*                        *                        *

Joenek woke with a start. A clay jar shattered on the floor beside his hanging cot. Again, the same dream haunted his sleep. He was breathless and his clothes drenched in sweat; Joenek pulled them off just as a familiar tingling crept from the base of his skull down to his spine. This was no mere dream, that much he knew. The only question was when these events would transpire.

He dressed in a daze, his mind flitting between the beast and the child clinging to his back. He tried to picture a face, but the only result was a haze. Still, he thought of the child as he left the small comfort of his home and traversed the narrow walkways of La'el.

It was a tree-nestled town, and it did not stop for lost faces or premonitions of doom.

The shops of La'el were built into the very trees. Joenek passed one whose entrance was marked by a collection of limbs knit together in the shape of a book. The walkway widened; the usual vendors were joined by travelling merchants, selling wares on the interwoven branches. It was market day, and several traders and merchants had arrived from the southern and western regions of Gael-Narenth. One even had large baskets and crates filled with foreign baubles, fabrics, and jewels; a rare occasion that caused quite the stir in the secluded town of La'el. Joenek peered through the crowd of elves who marveled at the trinkets and glimpsed vibrant gems set in black rings, circlets, and cuffs. He tore his gaze from the merchant's wares.

At last Joenek saw what he was looking for.

To the right of the walkway was a hardy entrance quite different from the other shopfronts. It lacked the grace and detail of the typical elvish architecture. Its designer had focused on simplicity of lines and sturdiness of structure.

Joenek strode through the opening and immediately descended a flight of steps.

La'el's founding elves had long ago woven two trees together, twisting one around the other into a spiraling stairwell that now ended in a large chamber beneath the earth. A great heat blasted against Joenek's face as he entered Arun's forge – La'el's only blacksmith and weapons master. Fire roared upon the far wall; metal clanged. Joenek cringed and shouted a greeting to the blacksmith.

The ear-shattering ringing ceased, and Arun turned his gaze upon Joenek. He gave a nod of recognition before resuming his hammering. Joenek grit his teeth and waited until the blacksmith looked over his project and laid it aside.