The Archress [HOLD]

IV

The jungle was bleeding.

The dark color of blood flowed from the roofs of the tall canopy trees, falling and flooding the already wet dirt, muddy from all of the liquid. It rose steadily up Armia's body, pooling around her ankles before rising to her calves.

"Ulysses," she croaked as it started to rain thick and scarlet. Her brother was hanging from a tree branch, dangling over by his abdomen, his fingers swaying in a nonexistent breeze. He was silent.

Armia picked up her leg--it was up to her thigh in blood--and grimaced as the smell full on hit her. Surprised, she stumbled back and plunged into the liquid. She tried to gasp for air but only succeeding in inhaling the one thing she had always hated. She flailed and tries to catch her footing, and every time, she would slip and sink deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper and deeper...

Until, suddenly, she was above it all; in a tree. She took a minute to take dozens of deep breaths before her eyes settled on a silver haired boy struggling to find his grip on an oversized branch.

"Ulysses," she screamed, before--with a mighty crack--the branch snapped and her brother fell into the rising river of blood.

• • •

The arrow didn't even have the time to stop its quivering before another one embedded itself not even a hair's length away from it. Without even thinking about what she was doing, Armia took another one out and flew it besides that one, finishing the perfect circle outlining the target's edge. She reached up again to grab another arrow--but was met with only air. She had ran out.

Sighing, Armia hooked her bow on the lowest branch of a nearby tree. This deep into the jungle, everything seemed to overlap each other; the pestering heat was made up for by the shade of the canopies, but the way the trees lurked above her steadily added on to her small--but growing--fear of the plants. The rustling of the leaves was covered by the chirping and cawing of the jungle birds, hidden in trunks or resting in the highest, out of sight branches. The flowers and fruits tossed away by the birds released a sweet aroma that eased away any headache that dared to creep its way into her head. But the best part was that she was alone with her thoughts, as terrible as they might be. It was peaceful this far from the Huma camp.

Suddenly, the circular board shattered from behind, flinging splinters of wood into Armia's face. An arrow followed not a second later, flying faster than any normal one could. A evil green mist surrounded it, leaving a almost fiery trail in the air. It halted only once it buried itself into her shoulder, in the spot where her heart would've been if she hadn't jerked to the right. It had flown almost through her entire shoulder, and only a part of the tail was still in the front of her body.

"Who's there?" Armia yelled into the now completely silent jungle. The chirping and cooing of birds had vanished, and the eery quiet was unnerving, even more so than the lack of response from the arrow's owner. Grinding her teeth, she yanked it from her shoulder and tried not to scream as blood flowed from the wound. Just the sight of it made her dizzy.

"Armia!"

Her head snapped up and she looked into Ulysses' eyes, almost completely ignoring the small but slender body in his arms. Armia squinted to get a better look at the person's obviously dead face, but the skin seemed to have blown up three times its normal size.

"Ulysses," she gasped. "Who is that? What..." Her voice trailed off as she finally recognized the body.

"Master Sasge," she breathed.

Her brother nodded and gently placed Sasge on the ground before rummaging through a trouser pocket and pulling out a familiar piece of paper. There was nothing on it except for a mess of red ink.

"This was in her hand when I found her," Ulysses explained. His usual proud face was worn and scared and alarmed and something else that Armia couldn't put a finger on. "She was in the old weapons shed near the edge of the camp. Sasge was still alive when I saw her. She told me to bring her to you before it was too late."

"Too late for what?" Armia asked, holding back on her story. This was so much more important.

A sword unsheathed behind them. The twins turned at once, and then instantly took a step back. A miniature man with a tightened nose and sunken in eye sockets stood somewhat fiercely. His body was a see-through light green, but there was no weapon near him to be spoken of.

Finally gathering her wits, Armia grabbed her bow, but then realized it would be useless. Ulysses, however, was already taking out both of his ever present swords--one from in a sheath across his back and the other around his belt. He held them at ready, focusing on the monster before them. Again, the sound of metal on metal echoed throughout, but this time two words seemed to creep from between each sound:

Her debt.

The thing opened its mouth as if to speak, and more weaponry noises came out from it. And all at once, it hit Armia.

"You're a Great Beast," she said.

***

The thing--the Great Beast--smiled, if Ulysses could call it that. It again spoke in its fantastical language and gestured to the dead Sasge.

Delirious was the Beast's name. Well, it was the name Sasge had given it, and she chose it to fit his appearance perfectly; the transparent body, the mystic language it spoke, and the whole idea of it all seemed like they belonged in a dream.

"Her debt could not be paid," it said. "But now it is."

Ulysses ignored the gasp of surprise form his sister as Delirious hobbled forward and raised its arms. A sound like a hundred bowstrings plucking at once filled the air, followed by thunderous rumbling. This wasn't part of the deal.

"Delirious," Ulysses spoke through gritted teeth. "What are you doing?"

"Creating your debt." The Beast then smirked and waved before soundlessly disappearing completely. Anger and confusion radiated throughout Ulysses. They had made a deal when he found Sasge's body. It had promised to give Ulysses the one thing he wanted--no, needed. He had offered his life to the Beast to erase what happened to his parents, to keep him safe.

"Ulysses!"

"What?" he snapped back at Armia. He didn't feel like answering her questions. But as he turned to her direction, something even more vexing appeared: a horde of green smoke rose toward them, along with more than hundreds of arrows, all shrouded in the mist.

"Ulysses, run!" Armia screamed, and sprinted away from the onslaught of obviously magical arrows. She began climbing the thick bark of a jungle tree.  Ulysses started to run too, before realizing that it would do no good. Somehow,  the most had redirected itself and began flying upwards.

"Mia! Mia, come back!" he shouted. Despite himself, Armia's was always the first thing to pop up in his mind. As she froze and turned to him, Ulysses noticed the gaping wound in her shoulder for the first time. Why hadn't he seen it earlier? Where did it come from?

But he didn't have time to answer those questions, because the group of arrows magically rearranged themselves and started zooming to him. In a blink of an eye, tens of tendrils of green fog hit Ulysses all at once, with such a force that he was flung into a tree trunk.

The last thing he could see clearly was Armia climbing that tree like her life depended on it. Which, in this case, it did. His vision blinked in and out. Shapes of people in red began blurring and moving around. At one point, a smudged face lowered itself to Ulysses' height. They said something, but he couldn't understand, and he didn't want to. All he wanted was for the pain to stop and to unlearn what he now knew about his parents.

Slowly, his consciousness faded until there was nothing left at all.