The Forbidden Child

The Stirrings of War

Eve woke to the crackling of fire. Dew drops had settled on her like they would on an elegant spider web. Her face and her hands were numb with cold.

It was their fourth day of travel.

Strider lived in the North, near the Ranger's reserve. In the past few days, Eve had spoken a bit with Strider. Still, he was a stranger to her. Sleep was heavy on her eyes as she began the day's journey.

When Eve and Strider got talking, Strider would sometimes speak of his homeland and of the small luxuries the people could afford there. She was jealous of the sense of unity his community had when they ate hearty feasts together.

To hear of these things made Eve realize that Gwyndolyn and herself had lived in such a life of extreme poverty. They had eaten meats of strange animals out of desperation on starving nights. They had lived in poor conditions even by the impoverished village of Broadacres' standards. Her childhood experience must be unthinkable, even for the durable Rangers.

Eve tried not to feel too self-conscious. She knew that this whole escapade was supposed to change her future but how was that possible if she still remember her past?

She had experienced many dark nights and met numbered strange men in the past eight years since Edulard had died. Each night seemed too long, each year felt a decade, and each day had left her a bit thinner.

The sun was dawning in the east as Eve and Strider walked, painting the sky with a pallet of brilliant morning colors. As the sun rose and warmed their backs it dried the dew from the ground and warmed their aching bones and stiff muscles.

It was a beautiful morning.

As they continued on their journey, the two were quiet, as was the norm for them. Neither were creatures of conversation. This was why when Strider turned to her with his finger to his lips, it came as a surprise.

"What is going on?" she whispered.

Strider pushed Eve down behind one of the stray boulders that scattered the desertland they traveled. "Stay down," Strider whispered intensely.

Eve was not one to usually agree so easily but the way Strider spoke made her not argue. Something was wrong and she knew it. So as he crept forward, Eve strained to hear. Obviously, there was something he caught that she had missed.

That moment was when she heard it. The steady, strange galloping and a low howling whined in the distance.

Eve slunk lower behind the boulder that covered her. After spending her life feeling so feeble and small, she suddenly found herself feeling too big. What she would give to shrink in that moment.

The howling sounded again in the distance and the galloping drew ever closer. The sound made her shiver to her bones and a wretched, sick feeling crept up her throat. Terror built in her system, a terror she had never felt before. That was precisely why she practically jumped a mile when Strider tapped her on the shoulder.

"We have orcs on our trail, a dozen of them or so. We cannot possibly outrun them and we cannot hide from them because they already have our scent," Strider told her.

"What do we do?" she asked. Eve could not help. She started trembling and tears welled in her eyes. She was not ready to die.

Strider put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Just stay here. Do not worry, I will be back."

As a second thought, he left a short sword with her before taking off.

Eve sat there pathetically, shaking and crying as she heard the stampede of orcs get closer. It was soon when the sounds of battle began. But what kind of battle could it be when it was one man against a dozen monsters? How could Strider possibly win? And what would happen to her if all of this went wrong?

Meanwhile, Strider, who was well trained in battle, was handling the orcs as well as he could. He had taken out almost all of the company. His adrenaline was pumping, the smell of sweat and blood in the air. Combat was difficult and deadly, especially with most of the orcs mounted on Wargs. He was doing well and he could see Eve and him getting out of the situation unscathed. Although this was his hope, he tried to push it from his mind. The fight was not over yet. He knew that.

Hope was dangerous in the wrong situations.

It was when the corpses of orcs and Wargs alike littered the ground around him that he could finally be at peace. Currently, he had a hold of the remaining monster, who fought against his grip. With a swift motion and a grotesque snap, the orc crumpled to the ground, mutilated by its broken neck.

A panicked scream sounded about a few hundred feet away near the rock Strider had left Eve at to use as cover. Instinctively, he took off at a mad sprint towards the anguished sound of his daughter.

As he got closer and closer, he saw the struggle take place. Eve was backed against the boulder completely, neck at an odd angle and face strained.

She was grimacing as she kept her assailant at bay with her feet. Meanwhile, the orc, small for its size, clawed and cursed at the girl, fingers and spit flying as he brandished his black dagger.

He wanted to get her by the face, the cruel bugger, or else he would have sliced at her legs some time ago. While the two struggled, Eve also stretched to get ahold of the shortsword that Strider had leant her.

Strider tried to speed up. Time was running out.

Miraculously, Eve got ahold of her short sword just as her legs gave out, sending the orc pounding down on top of her.

Strider heard himself cry out in distress. As he came up on Eve he saw, with breathtaking relief, that she had been quick enough to point her short sword at the animal as it pounced, impaling it lethally.

Still, Strider scrambled to pull the orc off of his daughter. When he did, he saw Eve's shocked expression.

Strider grinned and clapped his hands. "Well done, well done. Spectacular first kill it would have been, if you had not gotten so close to being killed yourself!" The man's words were teasing, yet they rang with a note of truth.

Eve smiled weakly, too weakly, and then Strider knew something was wrong.

Blood spouted from a stab wound in Eve's side.

Instantly, Strider's face grew pale. He was quick to get to work, though he was unpleasantly shocked. He shed his tunic and overcoat immediately and, considering the size of the wound, tore his tunic in half and wrapped it.

Blood was everywhere. Strider prepared to lift the girl, gently pushing his arm under her neck and picked her up

With Eve now securely in his grip, he saw she had her eyes wide open and she was trembling. She had gone into shock.

Strider looked up, deciding looking at the poor girl would do nothing but distract him. He had to think constructively if he wanted her to survive and so he did.

I have to find shelter. I have to find help. I need to keep moving.

I must keep moving.

Yet what is coming?

I must keep moving.

I must keep moving.

I must keep moving.