Talon

Chapter One

"Mother!" the young girl cried as she fought against the arms that restrained her. The woman, Lissa, turned and pressed her back against the thin wood that protected her and the silver haired child from the bloodshed that was occurring outside. She placed a hand over her mouth.

"Valkyr, please, you must be quiet," she held her close, stifling her own tears. Lissa could see through a hole in the secret door they hid behind, the smoke rising from underneath the cracks into the small dark room. Celeste, her best friend, had left Valkyr in her care, to protect her and raise her in secret. She watched down the road as the guardsmen tore through the door of the Talon home. Lissa watched in horror at the events that unfurled. She soon had to crouch down to hold Valkyr close to her as the house shook. A terrible roar echoed outside.

"What is that? What's happening?" Valkyr cried. Lissa said nothing, she just held the child closer, trying to cover her ears. Soon it fell back to the normal chaos outside, the deafening roars and the shaking had ceased. Valkyr looked up at Lissa. "They can't kill my parents," she whispered.

A loud crashing chased her through the woods. The silver-haired archer ran for her life. She did not waste her time in turning to see what chased her. Her willow bow was strung across her back with her thick leather quiver. They hit her hard in her lower spine with every sprinting step she took. She ignored the pain and ran until she spotted a subtle change in the landscape, wasting no time in quickly darting towards the patch of grass that was ever so discolored. She slid on her knees and scraped it back, panting heavily. Lifting the heavy wood and steel trap door, she jumped down into the torch-lit bunker, letting the door slam above her. She landed on her feet from the six foot drop. She could hear the monsters angry blood curdling screeches and wails as it clawed furiously at the door above her. She stood, watching the dirt fall through small cracks in the thick wood as the door's steel reinforcements held up to the monster's vicious clawing. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, pulling her energy and aura as close as possible, making herself invisible. Soon it fell quiet and she heard the monster lumber away, giving up on its prey. She released the breath she had been holding and walked over to a small round oak table sitting on the dirt floor in the middle of the burrow. She slung off her bow and her quiver. She looked back and saw a small wooden ladder that had been kicked down from the last person to stay here. She looked at her arrows, noticing a couple of them had lost their fletching on her mad dash. She pulled her long hair over her shoulder. She turned to go strike a fire in the fire pit. Sitting by the dug-out dent in the ground was a quartz rock and a steel striker.

"Perfect," She muttered, her smooth voice was marked by a dark undertone as memories flashed through her mind. She sat there thinking as the flames sparkled in her silver eyes. She knew why she was doing this, her never ending journey. She knew she would never be able to settle anywhere. She knew she would never be able to rise to any sort of status, despite her wisdom and strength. The monster that chased her into this bunker was not the first one she had encountered, and she would be damned if she would ever fall to their claws. She despised those creatures, she would track every last one of them down and kill them, and then she would kill their king himself with her silver-tipped arrows.

She pulled, from a pocket in the breast of her leather vest, a small deerskin book and a small pen. She wrote down the information about her latest encounter, along with a few other notes about her day. She heard a small rustling from inside the cave. She turned slowly as her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her short throwing blade she kept tucked away in a hidden sheath in her waistband. She saw two small eyes glittering in the shadows. Slowly a stray dog crawled closer hesitantly. It was a Malinois, a limber and muscular breed used as guardsman's dogs, a fierce cousin of the shepherd. It was odd one of the guardsman's dogs was left behind, she thought. She put down her book and reached into a small pouch around her waist and pulled out a few squares of cured meat from her hunt today. She tossed one to the dog, of which he gobbled down earnestly, she noted the poor things ribs and hips were beginning to protrude. He perked up his ears and stood up a little straighter. She could tell this dog had probably been here for quite a while without a master. His brown and tan coat was dull, and he was short on affection, she was also sure he hadn't seen the sunlight in days. He walked over to her and sniffed her outstretched hand and then licked her face, sitting close to her and enjoying the heat of the fire. She smiled, pouring him a cup of water from her canteen, which he practically inhaled. She did not take too kindly to humans of any kind, but animals, especially dogs, were a different case.