Freedom's Haven

Freedom's Haven (chapter 1 part 3)

             The cloak's face twisted at my mirth, hate brimming in his eyes that seemed to spit fire. He knocked another arrow, quickly taking aim. Still laughing hysterically at this wild game of deadly tag, I rolled away and swung myself behind a tree. His next arrow clipped the tree on its way by, buzzing past my arm. I felt a slight tug as it went and, looking down in amazement at the red line that was forming on my right arm, blinked in astonishment.

              Bemused, I noted that when I moved my arm, the red liquid came out faster. Fascinated, I failed to notice the injured archer was attempting to limp himself around the side of my tree, for another shot.

              My attention instead, was suddenly focused on that young hawk. Still giggling, I realized with slight dismay that the deformed man had managed to get hold of her and was going to break her neck.

              Frowning, the thought occurred to me that perhaps I owed my life to her. So, smiling widely that I was able to repay the debt, I took careful aim, gingerly tossing my dagger, I caught the triumphant man in his right armpit. For a moment it had no effect, he simply continued to torture the bird. Then abruptly, his right arm dropped uselessly to his side. He stared at it for a moment in confusion, as the red liquid, the same that was dripping down my arm, ran in rivulets down his side. Slowly he let go of the bird, who dropped to the ground and tried to leap away, to clutch at his right arm.

              He reached under and removed my dagger in surprise, as if he couldn't quite understand how it had come to be there. Then, slowly and calmly fell to his knees, looking up at me where I leaned hiding behind my tree, and met my eyes.

              What I saw in them, I will never be able to forget. It was such a haunted, hunted look, that I felt extreme empathy for this man that had tried to kill me. It was such a hopeless, resigned thing that it instantly woke me from my shock and killed my laughter dead in my throat.

              We continued to stare at one another in sudden understanding as the red pool grew larger around him. The limping man, of whom I had totally forgotten, crept up behind me. However, before he could stab me with his knife as he intended, an arrow caught him in the side of his neck, jerking him to the ground.

              Beyond any emotion now other than complete and total sadness, I turned uncaring to come face to chest with a very tall, easily six foot two, very handsome elf.

              I had only ever seen an elf once before in my life and they were so unforgettable that it was impossible to mistake him for a normal man now.

              He was big, at least compared to me, strong and muscular, though in a leaner, slight kind of way. His broad shoulders looked more than capable of drawing back the longbow he held with such familiar ease in his big, steady hands. His face, when I looked to it bemusedly, was set in stern lines, his angular jaw set. His hair looked white in the darkening forest but his eyes were far from ancient. They burned with a suppressed flame in their slanted moss green depths; his wide, full mouth was compressed in lines of anger. His broad forehead and high, prominent cheekbones accented his pointed ears and somehow fit, not only with the forest green tunic he wore and the earth brown trousers, but the wood that surrounded us.

              "Child, are you injured?" His deep, grave voice drifted through my over-whelmed mind like wind rustling over dry leaves.

              I smiled, amused. That's what he reminded me of, I decided, the wind, big and strong and powerful, but gentle and helping, too.

              At my crooked smile his forehead scrunched up in confusion and a brow was lifted in surprise. His slight amusement however was immediately replaced with concern when he noticed the red line across my arm.

              "You are hurt." He said this with a curious mixture of anger, concern and sadness. I frowned, unhappy. This helpful, handsome stranger should not be sad, I decided rashly. He looked too proud, too strong and indomitable to be grieved by a mere scratch.

              "I'm fine." I said quickly, trying to take his attention away from my cut, I responded, "What are you doing here?" My eyes had I but known it, were a dark, deep brown and shining with dazed curiosity and shock.

              Calmly shouldering his bow, he softly laid his hands on my shoulders and slowly leaned his head down until he was only slightly above eye level with me, before answering quietly. I realized later that this was in an effect so as not to frighten me.

              "This is the border of Kristwood, home and Kingdom of the Elves. You are very close to trespassing on patrolled territory, little one." He paused to brush back my dark red-brown hair from my face, which I saw in surprised amazement, had worked itself free of my leather tie. After a moment he murmured so quietly that I almost missed what he said. "This is dangerous."

              With that odd comment and with a sudden inward anger, he abruptly stepped away and straightened, his face, which had softened considerably and had even acquired a small, tremulous smile, hardened once more.

              I felt a sharp pang of regret at the sudden withdrawal of the kind and caring stranger that I had almost had the chance to know, an emotion that, in my current state, was almost too strong for me to process.

              "What are you doing here, alone?" He asked me severely, crossing his arms over his chest in a disapproving gesture.

              My eyes narrowed at his question. "Hunting." I replied insolently.

              His white brows rose sharply at this and he responded dryly, "Men?" His gaze moved to encompass the body littered clearing surrounding us.