The Elemental Series: Kiss Of Fire

Wyndel mounted the horse, hearing someone shout, “There he is!” He’d been spotted, the Elven girl, too, apparently.

“Grab the wench!”

“Go, girl!” Wyndel barked as she stood frozen in her spot. He started to ride off, catching a glimpse of two hunters as they neared the girl. He sighed, cursing his own nature, as he turned the horse around and rode hard toward her. He leaned down, scooping her up as he passed. She settled on the saddle in front of him. “When I tell you to do something, do it,” he said angrily as he rode up to the river. He scanned his surroundings quickly. The mountains were North, so he crossed the river, maneuvering the horse into the forest on the other side.

They rode on hard, until the horse was tired.

He lifted the small girl from the saddle and set her on wobbly legs in the ground. Dismounting, he took the reins and trudged forward.

She didn’t move. “What now?”

“We walk.”

They’d covered quite a few miles by moonrise, alternating between riding and walking.

He spared a glance in her direction. Her straight, waist length chestnut hair was mussed from the wind of riding, the tops of her pointed ears barely showing, and her eyes were more shut than open. About every five or six steps, she stumbled. In her weariness, she tripped over a tree root, crying out as she fell hard onto her hands and knees.

He hoisted her up by her waist and stood her on her feet. “Keep up, girl, or get left to your own devices.” He moved on, wanting to make camp before the moon was halfway up in the sky. He came to a circle of trees that housed a clearing shielded from view on three sides. Tying the horse’s reins to a tree, he left it to graze on the short foliage that seemed to cover the forest floor.

The Elf dropped to the ground, leaning against a tree.

Wyndel gathered a few pieces of brush and some dead wood, using his magick to start a fire in the clearing. The girl was asleep outside the trees and he nudged her with his boot. “Come.”

She murmured in her sleep, but didn’t wake.

He nudged her again. Nothing. Sighing his impatience, he picked her up, carrying her small form to the fire and laying her on the mossy ground beside it.

Her lashes lifted, revealing wide, innocent eyes, the color of a summer sky. “My name is Calypsa,” she whispered, rolling over and returning to her dreams.

He moved himself away from her, staring into the fire before falling asleep himself. He was in the midst of dozing off about halfway through the night when he heard a noise. The fire had died down, the coals not shedding much light.

Moving slowly, silently, he inched closer to the girl. She was shivering, whimpering in her sleep.

He didn’t notice the cold, his clan’s magick sustaining him when his surroundings couldn’t, and he sometimes forgot that the rest of the world could freeze or starve.

He sat beside her, laying his hand over the coals, murmuring a spell under his breath. The fire blazed again, with no wood to keep it going. He stretched out behind her, using his body heat, which was easily twenty degrees warmer than hers would be normally, to warm her from the back as the fire did so from the front. He fell asleep, more comfortable than he had been in a while.

-

Sunlight streamed through his eyelids as something soft and sweet smelling tickled his nose. He wriggled his nose, trying to escape the sensation, but the pest was persistent. He opened one eye, encountering smooth strands of fine chestnut hair.

She was curled up, fast asleep, against him, her arm wrapped around his waist and her nose buried against his chest.

He shifted her, trying to move away without waking her, but she squirmed closer, her head lolling back. Very slowly, her eyes opened. She blinked up at him with innocent eyes, smiling.

“You’re warm.”

Wyndel moved away, sitting in silence for a moment before standing and going to the horse. He untied the pouch from where it was tethered to the saddle. Going back to the clearing, he opened it and took a bite of the frybread.

She watched his mouth avidly as he chewed, looking away with a blush when he caught her.

Sitting down on the mossy ground, he offered the bread to her. She took it, barely chewing as she ate.

He sipped the wine, handing her the pouch so she could finish the cheese. She would need it more than he would.

“We have a long journey ahead of us. We should keep moving.” He closed the top on the wine, setting it beside her and returning to the horse.

She followed, still nibbling her cheese.

He mounted the horse and held out his hand to help her up in front of him. She ignored it, more interested in the food in her hand. Sighing his irritation, he picked her up by her waist, the cheese and wine still in her grip, and set her in front of him, resting his arm around her middle as she finished her morning meal.

They rode through the forest until the trees became sparse and a village came into view

She turned to look up at him. “Where are we?”

“Harric, an Orc town.”

She gasped, her small hands clutching his arm where it was around her.

He scanned the horizon for signs of anything threatening. “We’ll ride around it,” he said quietly, the tiny hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He nudged the horse on slowly, skirting around the small town that looked more like a military encampment.

There was minimal movement, and that in its self was an oddity. Orcs were, by nature, a militant society. There should have been more than a few guards. The air was silent except for the sound of hoof beats against the dirt path.

Wyndel looked around again.

Nothing.

He could feel it. Something was definitely… off.

Using his acute sense of hearing, he scanned the area again.

Someone was nearby. He couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t see them. But they were there. He’d almost bet his life on it. Something was watching them.