Guardians of the Prophecy

Chapter Four: Discovering

Alistair blearily opened his eyes and yawned.  He sat up in the bed and glanced around.

He leapt off of the mattress with a curse, his eyes frantically scanning the room.  Shit!  Where’s Rima?  Did I oversleep?  I thought I couldn’t make this any worse.  I’m seriously messing this up.

Something shifted in his peripheral vision and he whirled around to see a falcon tied to the balustrade of the balcony, with the bloody remains and bones of an animal beside it.  Feathers littered the floor, and the falcon’s eyes seemed to flash in his direction.

“Oh, you must be Rima’s pet bird,” he said, moving closer.  He’d never seen such a falcon before!  The falcon ruffled its feathers and appraised him, almost coldly.

“She’s a Perien falcon,” a voice spoke from behind him, and Alistair turned to see Rima closing the door.  “And her name is Shaheen.”

A sudden wave of irritation washed over him, and he stalked over to the Guardian, pointing an accusing finger at her.

“Where were you?  I told you to stay, but when I woke up you had left!  I just found you; I have to be wherever you are, remember?”

Rima dropped her pack onto the mattress and rounded on him.  “First off, I came back exactly after one hour.  And judging from your hair, you look as if you just woke up.”

Alistair unconsciously ran his hand through his dark hair: it had indeed puffed up.

“Second,” she continued, “I was trying to see if I could find out anymore information about the Prophecy.  You weren’t there to pick me up on my birthday, and I handled myself well for three days.  You should be relieved that I’m not some helpless little girl.”  She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned up at him.

He had to admit, she did have a point.  He was still bothered because Rima had left and wandered on her own without him.  Alistair hated not being useful, especially after he had recently reunited with her.

He couldn’t help but glance over her face and figure once again.  She definitely wasn’t the kind of woman he usually enjoyed bedding.  She wasn’t a tall, curvaceous beauty, and yet Alistair still found himself thinking about her looks, her small frame.  He found himself imagining what it would be like to hold her in his arms…

Rima was petite; the top of her head just barely reached the top of his chest.  She was slender, but Alistair had seen himself that she definitely did have curves on her body, though noticeably smaller compared to the many courtesans he had been with.  It was understandable, though, since she was shorter and built smaller than them.  And though she most definitely did have breasts and a backside, her body was quite lean, no doubt from all the training she was taught in order to prepare her for her role as Guardian. 

She was not gorgeous by any means, but definitely pretty… and there was just something about her that intrigued him.  Her skin was light tan, her eyes an unnatural mix of amber and hazel, and her plump pink mouth looked delectable. 

“What are you staring at?”  Rima’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.

Alistair’s lips instinctively pulled into a grin.  “You’re cute when you’re angry.  Like a kitten trying to be a saber-toothed tiger.”

Rima huffed and raised a brow at him.  “A kitten?”  She shook her head and he noticed her mouth twitching into a smile.  “Were you even listening to what I was saying?”

“Yeah.”  He shook his head; he needed to focus on the task at hand.  “It’s getting late.  Do you want to go get some food?  We can talk about what route we should be taking when we leave tonight.”