The Tales of Miriela: Shadowborn

Chapter 31: Odwin

His eyes finally opened. Odwin was unsure of exactly how long he had slept, but he knew his rest had been long. The sun was down, and he could feel the cold chill of night that accompanied the moon and stars. Ice filled his veins, and his skin felt rough like sand. The hair on Odwin's neck stood tall and he shook like the wheels that turned below him.

The wagon bounced up and down against the rough road, like the rain that bounced off of its canvas top. The rain was light, but the tapping against the cover overhead, continued to become louder, heavier, and more frequent. It seemed the convoy was heading into a storm.

As he sat in the wagon bed, trying to gather his thoughts, Odwin noticed a voice, and then another. Through the patter of rain came the voices of two guardsmen, from the front of the wagon. Their words were muffled, and the rain too loud for Odwin to make out anything more than distant noise.

Suddenly, the wagon began to slow down. Cracking and grinding, the wagon's wheels finally came to a stop. Odwin could hear the oxen grunting and stomping in the mud. Fear fell over him, as Odwin tried his best to listen again through the constant rain. His stomach sank as he waited, hoping the guardsmen were not coming to search his place of hiding.

Loud shrieks, much louder than the rain or lightening began to cry out. The sound of arrows and the grunts of war grew around the wagon. From out of nowhere the sounds had arrived, and as quickly as they began, they disappeared. Odwin sat under the canvas roof, in the back of the wagon, terrified and uncertain.

Loud cracks of thunder amplified his angst, as he slowly crept towards the entrance of the wagon bed. With an outstretched hand, Odwin slowly pulled back the canvas covering and peered out through the pouring rain. His darksight cut through the black night with ease, but he saw nothing to explain the wagon's halt.

Odwin hopped out of the wagon to meet the wet, cold ground. The caravan wasn't safe and he needed to move. He ran off from the wagon, towards the tree line just off the road. There road the traveled was thin, and heavy woods stood on both sides of it. As he did so, Odwin noticed five other wagons ahead of his, all stopped as well. But just before he stepped into the woods, something else caught his eye.

The wagons up the road, some lay on their side, others nearly turned upside down entirely. The oxen were all dead, and one wagon illuminated the road in a slight flame. There were no voices now, just an eerie an unknown.

It was mesmerizing, a great mystery. He had been in the bed of the wagon, he had felt its stop. And in no more than just a few minutes, such a violent scene awaited.

But the silence did not last long. The struggling grunt of the oxen, sounded again. And this time, Odwin wondered if the beast was calling for help. He walked cautiously out from the tree line back towards the last wagon in the caravan, the one in which he rode.

One oxen lay dead in the dirt, the other stood injured, but living. The whole weight of the wagon, now cast upon its back, left the beast's sturdy legs wobbling in pain. Odwin searched for a latch, something to let the oxen free. It was a terrible sight to see, such a beautiful animal, desperately dyeing, stuck in a trap.

But Odwin had worked on wagons before in the Grounds. He knew the oxen's trap worked, for he had made more than a few. He loosened a few straps, and pulled back a lever or two, and before long the oxen was relieved.

The weight of the wagon fell to the ground, and a loud crash echoed out through the woods. Whatever had done this, was surely about to return. Odwin was unsure of where to go. He couldn't stay on the road, in the open. But he also feared that an enemy awaited him in the trees. But before his feet could decide where to carry him, Odwin's eyes met the guardsmen, still sitting atop the wagon seat, where they had lead the oxen. And what he saw left him standing frozen, his eyes fixed upon a horrific sight.