Chapter #4Those Bereft of Meaning by: Juac   The cold was blistering and night had not yet come. Your pain only made it freeze more; to the bone, to your heart. The blood stopped a while ago. The long and battered cloth that wrapped around your skin feeling rough as old leather was your only source of warmth. "They...did not wield anima...not anthros..." 'Why' was the word ringing in your head the most as you trudged on.
They came before dawn as night was ending. You awoke to the sun rise earlier then expected. But when your eyes fixed you saw the that the stars were still out and a black smog rose to them. Dawn was not coming, a fire had broken out. And what made you rise suddenly was the cries of people outside. Their wails made you jump from your bed quickly grabbing your spear at the ready for whatever enemy was the cause. They were men, clearly, not a word of power was spoken to summon Animus. The witchcraft of the furred and scaled people.
You managed to fend off what few you could and protect as was your duty as one of your town's guard. Your people stood on the border of the icy plains of the North where a large settlement of Snow Anthros stood. Humans and Anthros had come to a mutual truce. Human's kept their technology, building and breaking down then building again. While Anthros kept with the old ways of the Earth and Anima, their power drawn from it. Even helping each other on some rare occasions when tensions were nonexistent.
But the morning of this day was no battle against them, those were men. That was made clear. They wore dark robes and commanded terrible machinery, killing many as you tried to save them. In the end you were given a message to be sent by the daughter of the head guardsman. He had died honorably, she said. "Please, take this and go North to Arya. It's a warning of what happened here."
That was what led you to this place. Not a cloud hung above when you left in the coming Winter's air. Now a blizzard wrapped around you like a coffin ready to encase your frozen body. You'd suffered training that helped in this tiring journey. Arya was a three days walk from your town. A gust of wind nearly blew you with it but you still kept on. Most people did not care from anthros and their supposed 'Black Magic'. But you thought of it as a blessing. Thus making you the laughing stock of the guardsman who had to watch for intruders without passes. And also leading to you being the one who usually kept watch over messengers from their lands.
The sky's heart must have been pierced and frozen solid. The blizzard seemed to worsen almost freezing you legs in place. You thought keeping near the cliff side would help to shield you, but it was almost on intention that the wind shifted and blew towards you. You tripped on something and collapsed in the cold snow. Why you couldn't move was hard to tell. Your body just did not seem to lift while your mind was clear and ready.
You finally built up the strength and pushed up off the ground making sure the note was still in your possession, you marched forward. Hours seemed to pass and the way was darkened in the storm. You kept one folded hand to your right to follow the cliff path. And as you walked you could only see the white and it's sudden shift to black. But there was something unnatural. A shape in the white that inched ever closer.
It swayed in the wind and clambered to the rock side on occasion. It also became more distinguishable to your eyes as it came close. You could also hear faint chimes with them. It was alive, that was for certain. A white figure that danced frailly at the tilt and sway of the gusts. When you reached it you could clearly see before you a being beyond your imagination.
It was an anthro dressed in pale white robes that swayed from anklets, bracelets, its necklace, and even earrings. Making rivers in the air that danced around its body that chimed with bells attached to their ends. It was clearly male as he wore no upper body clothing besides a sheer cloth around his neck, pierced in several spots. By his stance and fur color as well as the shape of his body, he was a fox. And a beautiful one to behold, no commoner even of the anthros wore outfits as extravagant. He had long white hair that howled with the wind. His tail as well.
But there was something wrong besides the reasoning you could not fathom of him being out here in this glacial storm. He was wounded severely in many places, the blood dripped out in some making his white cloth red. But worst of all was when he took notice of you.
He looked up to you and his eyes which seemed to hold a distant wish suddenly went into a cold glare. His maw clenched and his pose, although frail, became bent and hardened. He was going to attack. You had no means of defense besides your hunting knife. Your spear was broken during battle. Instead of grabbing any sort of weapon on his person though, he twisted his arms and hands into a sphere. The sphere emanating glints of light that seemed to absorb small fragments of the snow as he spoke words you couldn't understand. 'Animus, he's using magic.'
But as he summoned the power and you held your knife back by the ready, you saw his eyes go wide. And the snow dispersed onto the ground along with a splatter of red. He collapsed on one hand as the other held his throat. You heard him speak softly, "no...not like this...not to them..." before he completely dropped into the snow. His cloth waving no more. His body spread out over the snow.
You didn't care if he was your opponent for the short time he was conscious, nor that he was an anthro. As a human, you could not allow him to die. The red reaching over his face, you pulled him up onto your arm as you walked.
In the crags of the rock you were able to find a crevice leading into a small hole going down. The was no way to make the journey all the way to Arya with him on your back. Especially in this condition. So you helped him within. And with a small set of wood and tinderbox you had a fire. Dealing with his wounds quickly as you trained as a medic for some time, you were able to heal him. The wounds themselves were not severe. But you could imagine the strain of trying to defend yourself with power like what he weilded.
All you could do now was wait as he recovered, and for the tears of man to stop falling outside.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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