Untitled.
The fog seemed to chase them, the smoky air clinging to their skin. The young couple heaved with exertion as they stumbled over the rocky hills. The young woman shrieked as a rock gave out from underneath her foot. The skirt was cumbersome to run in, since it was long and thick. But even the thickness could not prevent the cold from piercing her skin. The young man tugged at her hand. “Come on, Lissea, we’re going to make it!” he urged, but she saw the fear in those brown eyes. She’d do it for him, she determined fiercely, picking herself up from the ground. Once they reached the top, they stopped to catch their breaths. Chests heaving, Lissea and her husband looked around.
“We’re so far from home, Stefan,” she breathed harshly. The land was rolling now, not flat like their home. Stefan took a gasping breath and looked at the bushes. “We should have seen the signs of her demons. The village that was attacked days before, the crops were dying and that plague.” Stefan touched her arm when she began to sob. The death of their infant son had almost killed them both, but they had to be strong.
“Listen now, we have to warn others. We’re the only survivors. We have to get word to Captain Sinbad and his crew. He’ll need to know of this.”
“Oh, I don’t think he’ll be finding out about the Mistress that easily,” a raspy voice said from behind them. They whirled, looking into a pair of black eyes. The oily mass of black hair was tied back into a rat-like tail. He tapped his boot with a crop listlessly. His eyes were on Lissea, as lustful as a rutting stag. She crept behind her husband. Stefan looked around them, counting off the faceless demons that sat astride red-eyed horses. “I think that we’ll be having all the skulls of the Gryphon’s Egg village,” he paused, licking his lips as he glanced at Lissea, “and then some.” He signalled the soldiers, who moved forward agonizingly slow.
“Ah ah ah. Not that wouldn’t be a challenge, will it, Ergon?” a soft voice asked. He looked up with a snarl at the red head in the tree. She was watching him curiously, and there was amusement in those brown eyes.
“Why, if it isn’t another lovely toy to play with?” he asked as he resignaled his guards. They started for her, only to have a white beams being shot into their chests. They screamed as the white magick pierced their empty, black souls, then dissipated into the air. Ergon looked at the girl in shock. She chuckled shortly.
“I suggest that ye tell yer mistress that she better watch her step with ones who are innocent.” Ergon laughed, an empty, humourless sound.
“Oh? And you think your petty powers will defeat her and her father?” he asked sarcastically. She looked at him out of icy eyes.
“I don’t think so…I know so.” Something in her voice convinced the Overseer to retreat, but not before signalling the demons to attack. They rushed toward the peasants. The young man rushed to defend his wife, but was thrown aside. The red-haired woman swung her sword and dealt some nasty blows to the demons. After a few minutes of fighting sword to sword, she backed off. “Alright, boys, I have to take a breather.” She outstretched a hand and a blue beam formed in her hands. The light snapped out and struck the remaining demons down. The woman kneeled down and inspected a body. Lissea rose and walked over to her.
“You saved our lives,” she whispered. The young woman’s head slightly turned.
“Get out of here,” she answered. Lissea reached out to touch her.
“How can we ever…” The sorceress whirled on her, causing the peasant to fall back. The woman’s deep brown eyes contained wisdom, and rage.
“Go find your precious saviour and pray that he’ll help you. You’ll find him most different. I have,” she snapped angrily, then stalked off to where a tall black horse was waiting. Lissea found her husband’s arms comforting her.
“We have to find Sinbad.”
Sinbad looked over the ocean, allowing himself to relax for the first time since they had arrived on this island. The Isle of Tears was abandoned now, save for a few small, flourishing towns. At least, that was what they had been told. He could tell by how friendly some of the merchants were that something was wrong. Bryn hadn’t sensed anything wrong, merely saying that there was a trace of magick in the island. Sinbad had simply nodded, and began to unload the shipment of silk that they had been given. Now that they were finished, many of the crew had gone into the taverns to relax and eat some wholesome foods. Only Sinbad, Dermott, and Bryn had remained.
The hawk was perched over the tiller, allowing the brief wind to caress his feathers. He seemed more agitated than usual. Sinbad looked up at the moon. There was ring around the moon. Despite Firouz’s theory, Sinbad felt that it had brought him both good and bad luck. The good was that he had met many new friends, and had vanquished a powerful enemy. The bad was that he had lost many friends. Sinbad squeezed his eyes shut. Images of Dim Dim and Mustapha flashed before his eyes. He had locked away another friend. Maeve was never to be allowed to cloud his judgement again. He had sworn it to himself.
Dermott suddenly screeched and flew off into the night. “Dermott!” Sinbad yelled. Bryn must have forgotten to tie him to his perch. They had resulted to tying the hawk when he began to fly off at night, returning in the morning shivering. Bryn had been angry for some reason, and swore that no one was going to let Dermott out until he swore to stay on the ship. Firouz and Doubar had argued that it wasn’t her place to tie up a hawk that wasn’t hers, but Sinbad had given her leave to do so. The hawk now seemed to hate him. Once Sinbad had been able to stroke the bird, and feed him, but now all he got was pecks and talon in his hand.
“Bryn, Dermott’s loose!” he called out. The petite girl came running up, and stopped beside him.
“Damn it! He gets sick when ever he does this.” Sinbad smiled and squeezed her shoulder.
“Maybe he’s got a lady hawk waiting for him,” he said jokingly. Bryn looked over at him, a smirk on her face.
“Like his captain? Perhaps less often however,” she retorted smartly. Sinbad laughed.
“I don’t chase you do I?” Sinbad asked her teasingly. The little witch was becoming one of his best friends. She stuck her tongue out at him and looked out at the port. Sinbad saw her back stiffen. “What is it?” She inhaled.
“Someone’s coming.” Sinbad heard the rapid footsteps and put his hand on his sword.
“Captain Sinbad! There’s trouble!” Akeem called out, breathing hard. Sinbad ran after him. Bryn leapt after him.
The young woman was shaking hard from beneath the covers of the bed. A young man lay five feet away, sleeping restlessly. Sinbad knelt by her bed beside Firouz. The physician sighed. “She’s just in shock. She has a touch of hypothermia, so she needs much warmth, and a lot of sleep,” he commented. Sinbad touched her hand.
“Are you Sinbad?” she asked softly. He nodded. “I am Lissea. You were in my town about two years ago. I was a keeper of the Gryphon’s Egg.” Sinbad stiffened at the memory. The green, egg-shaped emblem of good had been lost with the destruction of Rumina’s home. “You’re needed inland on Skull Island.”
“What? Why?” he asked. She stared up at him.
“R*cough*mina, she’s alive. She’s destroying all of the larger villages. Our village was the most recent.” Her hand clutched his as unconsciousness threatened to embrace her. Sinbad turned to go, but she tugged at his arm. “There is another fighting her. She told me that you had changed, but I never believed…” Her eyes closed, and she fell asleep. Firouz checked her pulse.
“I’m going to stay with them, make sure it is just exhaustion.”
“Yeah,” Sinbad said with a nod, and walked outside of the tavern. His hand went to his head. “I should have known! Damn!”
“There was no way you could have known, little brother,” Doubar said soothingly from his place by the door. Sinbad looked at him with despair in his blue eyes.
“Mae…she told me. Said that Rumina wasn’t dead and that she’d return. Allah, I knew it would happen, but if only I had know it would happen here!” Sinbad punctuated his words with a punch to the tavern wall.
“Looks like we’ll just have to face Rumina. But…”Doubar broke off. Sinbad looked at him sharply.
“But what?” he demanded.
“I wish Maeve would be here. We need her magick,” his brother said simply.
“Bryn can do it.” Doubar shook his head
“I know. But Maeve has more knowledge of the magick…” Sinbad moved to interrupt, but Doubar cut him off, “YOU hear me out! You been acting like an ass since she left, and I’ll be damned if you criticize her again!” Sinbad stared at his brother in shock. “Aye, I’m willing to support Maeve. We miss her as much you do. Rumina will use your anger against you, I have no doubt about that!” The burly man stormed off, leaving Sinbad to stare after him.
Whirling around, he moved to walk back to the Nomad when he bumped into someone, knocking himself flat. “Sorry,” came the voice, and Sinbad looked up in shock. A face he had almost forgotten was shadowed in the cloak…but there was no mistaking such a woman. Maeve seemed to recognize him as well, but the recognition ended as she turned to run. Sinbad struggled to stand, watching as the woman fled easily. Grimacing, he lurched to his feet, desperate to see if his eyes weren’t lying. Awkwardly, Sinbad ran after the cloaked woman, trying desperately to find something to recognize her by, but she disappeared into the night.
Maeve yawned, her limbs aching with fatigue. After outrunning Sinbad, she had to run after the bandits that had tried to steal her stallion. The big black lay behind her, his belly supporting her. A rumbling snore came from the stallion’s throat, and it made Maeve smile a bit. She felt the fire warm her wet feet, and felt safe for once. Wearily, the sorceress closed her eyes, allowing her horse’s silken coat to provide her comfort.
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