JON
The sound of the horn startled him, but he didn't show it. It seems too happy, too uplifting a sound to be played as a call to arms. And just like all other happy, uplifting sounds, it irritated him.
Jon let his subconscious mind take over and asses the situation while he ran in the direction of the gates. As always, he was ready for anything. His seven-foot custom-made steel staff was strapped to his back and his quiver was full of arrows.
He was not going fast enough to intercept. He needed to increase his speed by 20% and recalculate his route.
Jon let his magic trickle into his blood and into his quads and hamstrings, encouraging them to greater speeds. A normal person would've been crippled. He was destroying muscle at an incredible pace.
But Jon wasn't normal. As an elf, his body already had an increased capacity for cell repair. The genetic advantage, combined with his immense magical talent, meant he was nearly totally immune to cell damage. Even the most experienced elven warriors couldn't match his strength, speed, and agility.
2.13 seconds. Jon was the first one on the walkway at the top of the gate.
Slamming one knee to the ground, he pulled out one arrow and loaded his bow. He pulled back the string taunt, against his ear, and stood to take aim at the encroaching enemy.
He blinked. Could it really be? The arrow fell from his giant bow as he let his arms relax suddenly.
One invader. There was one tattered, raggedy, dirt-smattered man on the main road. One beggar and his horse. It was not even worth the energy he'd already spent, so Jon let his eyes close and waited for the others to arrive.
2.56 minutes–the second person on the scene was the green-eyed girl. The one who'd yelled at him the day of the test. Jon didn't know her name. Nor did he ask. He had no interest in remembering. The old Jon would've pitied her for being second-place. He probably would've teased her and competed with her and gloated about his success. But not now. Not today. Not anymore.
The green-eyed girl was leaning over the gate. She tip-toed in an effort to see the man in the distance better. He predicted that she'd fall to the other side if she put even one more pound of flesh over the gate. The old Jon would've warned her.
New Jon stayed quiet. It was none of his concern if she accidentally killed herself. It'd be a relief actually. Her voice was always cheery, upbeat, and friendly. He hated cheery, upbeat, and friendly.
Lucky for her, the Honorable Reginald Sawyer arrived just in time to pull her back. "Myc, you almost died."
"Almost being the key word." She put her hands on her narrow hips. "Okay Wonderboy, where's the rest of the invading army?" Was she serious or joking? He didn't answer.
The other elven warriors were arriving. They'd all started congregating at the bottom of the gate. He decided to join them. Maybe the stranger would have something worthwhile to say.
Jon slowly got to his feet and started walking away. She followed angrily. "You-hey, I'm talking to you. Where're you going? Hey-stop-"
Jon caught a fist aimed at his solar plexus without even thinking. Faster than any human or elf could react, he'd pinned the girl to the wall. Her green eyes stared up at him defiantly.
He could feel himself losing control over his emotions. He was already angry, and it would be so satisfying to take it out on someone else. Someone weaker and irritating. This girl would be perfect.
For a second, he'd thought it was happening all over again. That day and night... all... over again.
But Jon knew he couldn't do that. He could feel the eyes of His Honor drilling holes into his back. Jon pitched his voice low so only the girl could hear his next words. "Dare call me Wonderboy one more time... And I'll come throw you over this gate myself."
He left her there. She was seething with rage and cursing. He ignored it. It was only fair to give her some time to think it over with a cool head. If she got in his way again, well, he wouldn't be responsible for the consequences.
She wouldn't be the first person he'd killed.
MYC
"You're a stupid, son-of-a-witch! You think you'll kill me? That's funny. Maybe I can't kill you, but I'll kill myself and frame you if that's what it takes. You better be afraid of me! Jerk–come back here–I'm not done–."
Myc's arms and legs stopped listening to her commands. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Body binding. Damn it–her mentor was stopping her.
The Honorable Reginald Sawyer walked past her to join the huddle at the bottom, "I told you not to cause trouble with Jon."
Jon, Jon, Jon. She seethed even more at her helplessness and her mentor's lack of support for her cause. Lately, Reginald seemed to care more about Jon than her.
It hurt. The Honorable Reginald Sawyer wasn't just a mentor to her. He'd adopted her when she first arrived at the village an orphan. He was her friend. He was all the family she had left.
Myc tried moving a finger–it worked. The body binding was only temporary. She stormed behind the two men, eyes flashing, fists clenched.
"Yes, Your Honor."
The stranger was non-descript. There was dried mud splattered over his clothes and hair. Judging from his exhuastion, it was clear that he hadn't eaten or slept in several days. The man was currently stuffing flatbread into his mouth as fast as he could.
Reginald and the other village elders were huddled in a half-circle by the time she arrived. When he caught sight of her, he shot her a small smile of apology. "Myc, can you take care of our guest? Please?"
Forcing herself to put away her earlier frustration, Myc walked up to the man and put out her hand. "I'm Myc. What's your name?"
He shook it eagerly. "Travis."
Despite having bits of bread in his teeth, Travis smiled big and wide. He looked a little older than her, around twenty-three or twenty-four. His baby face made him appear innocent and care-free, despite the obvious hardships he'd endured. Myc smiled. She couldn't help but like him already.
"I've been assigned as your tour guide this afternoon," she joked. "Our first big attraction, the public baths, are this way."
He took a step towards her, then paused and turned back. She followed his gaze. Harry, one of the twins, was leading his horse to the stables. "Ah, you can visit your stead anytime you like," she assured him. "The stables are just in the outer courtyard."
Travis shook his head sadly, "I'm scared I'll get lost. This village is so big."
"Yes, I also find it weird to call this place a 'village'. We have a population of over 2,000 inhabitants today, but when the colony was first founded, it had less than 200 elves."
Myc drew a rough sketch of the village in dirt with a stick. "Look here. The village is built in a series of concentric circles, each one with an opening at the cardinal directions–north, south, east, and west. Right now we're in the outer courtyard, right next to the main city gates which face north. The stables are in the outer courtyard as well. The public baths are located in the middle courtyard. Get it?"
He smiled at her, all playful and goofy. "Yes!" His innocence was really quite attractive. A warm glow filled her chest, and Myc felt her cheeks heat up. Was she blushing? What was happening to her? She shook over the feeling and avoided looking at the newest recruit. "Let's go."
Myc was heading back to her room after her own visit to the baths. She felt refreshed and at peace. The anger and stress from the day had melted away in the steamy room.
The newest warriors took turns on night patrol and it was her turn tonight. She quickly pulled on a clean set of loose, black pants and a cropped, leather top before heading out.
Myc was almost at the guard tower near the gates, when she noticed a light coming from the stables. She changed direction immediately. Which idiot had brought a lantern to stables? And that too, at this hour?
As she got closer to the stable door, Myc dropped to a crouch and peeked over the corner.
A man was petting a horse, and speaking in a low, rough voice. The lantern rested at his feet. She recognized him instinctively–Travis.
Myc relaxed slightly, and was about to call out, when she felt Shakti growl through the bond they shared. It was a warning. But why?
A few seconds later, Travis spoke facing the horse again, more clearly this time, "Yes, yes, General. I've entered the elf village successfully."
Author's Note: Don't forget to vote if you like this chapter! Every vote counts ~ You can also help this story by commenting, adding it to your reading list/ library.
What do you think will happen next in Myc's story? What is the General's plan? Comment below with your theories!
Next Chapter Preview: Juliette Warner tries to dig up what she can about her husband. Who is he? Is there really an intelligence network in New Ramona? Is Gal responsible for her friend's missing son–Chris?
Find out Friday :D