Until We Meet Again

Chapter 1: "X" Marks The Heart

Chapter 1: “X” Marks The Heart

A few seconds ago, Aria had cursed at the incessant chatter of the woodland fauna. Yet, the absence of their oddly comforting babble was an acute loss, causing her to pause mid-step. She crouched low, curled her right hand tightly into a fist, and silently hoped a hand-to-hand combat would not be necessary. A drop of sweat slithered down her back and she barely suppressed an urge to shiver. She restlessly traced along the sheath on her belt with her left hand. The silence seemed to stretch for eons. Thus, in her disquiet, she began to hear phantom whispers, niggling doubts tempting her to an impulsive reaction. But she still kept bent close to the ground, saved only by the thought of Them, that is, the Macabre, would only be too happy to take advantage of a grievous mistake committed on her part.   

THWACK

Aria found an arrow firmly lodged in the tree behind her, mere centimeters from where her head had been moments earlier. It was crudely fashioned of forest wood and fletched with feathers distinctively Macabre, silvery and rigid. Her attacker was surely a defender of the Macabre, either a lowly court servant or fervent supporter of the Dark Cause . None of the Macabre would be as foolish to send off a warning shot; the Macabre nocked arrows with the intention of terminating life. Though her attacker was probably inferior in status to all of her enemies, Aria would make no mistake of underestimating the archer’s determination.

Before fear could settle in and paralyze her, she drew two thin blades from her belt. As she adjusted them in the palm of her left hand, she heard approaching footsteps and caught the scent of her attacker. Even after all this time away from the apothecary, she could detect her attacker’s weakened state: a familiar metallic tang mingled with the sweet odor of infection. He panted heavily, carelessly drawing attention to himself when he ought to have been hidden.  Glimpses of him stumbling through the sun-dappled brush confirmed her suspicions; he constantly mopped his ruddy face and looked in danger of collapsing. It was only by sheer will that he remained upright.

Her attacker stood no more than an arm’s length away. It was now or never. Aria pitched her blades, watching them soar deftly through the air. The blades circled the copse, emitting a sharp whistle of caution. He heard it and froze on the spot. His head spun around, as if he hoped to place the origin of the noise, but it was much too late to respond. The blades had settled lethally in their mark.

He glanced down, in disbelief, to see the blades fitted snugly in his chest. One jutted from the left while the other from the right, forming an “X” over his heart. He drew in a final, ragged breath as crimson blood pooled beneath his fatal wound. At the thud of his lifeless body upon the forest floor, Aria approached it, swiftly affirmed his death, and exhaled a sigh of relief. Thankfully, the first of many had been no match for her trusty blades. She promptly retrieved said blades, wiped the blood off with a handful of leaves, and returned them to her belt.

The forest was once again alive with sounds of wildlife. She scanned the forest around her for signs of any hidden backup behind the bushes. There was no time to burn the body, much less bury the evidence of her transgression. However, she couldn’t help wasting a few more seconds to mentally bemoan her circumstances.

‘If only Ben hadn’t inconveniently disappeared, I wouldn’t have ended up in this mess,’ she thought miserably. She would give up her soul if it meant she did not have to constantly look over her shoulder and keep moving.

“How am I ever to return home?” she wondered aloud. “I’m a disgrace. The Royals will be mad to accept me in this state.” 

The setting sun usually comforted Aria, but today it reminded her of how unfavorably the day had passed. Since she had no desire to endure an equally unfavorable night, she straightened up and strode briskly toward the westerly end of the forest.