Before the sky broke,
Before time shattered
Legions swarmed
And two paths began.
“Come now, pup. What are they?”
The armored man stood on the crest of a hill, covered in dark leather, leaning down low. He was broad and barrel-chested, and his posture and the unkempt facial hair gave the immediate impression of a bear. Standing next to him, leaning down and wearing a mottled cloak was a darker skinned girl of around six years, face adorned by glowing scar-like marks. Where others had whites around their eyes, the glowing blue eyes that looked down at the scene below the hill were surrounded by darkness.
The eyes of a wolf.
A scream echoed up the hill as metal was rent apart. Below the pair, armored soldiers, mercenaries around the symbol of a ring of blades ran hard towards the base of the outcropping. Behind them, large, lopsided shapes of gnarled, exposed muscle and metal armor surged after them. The blood soaked beings were faster then the mercenaries, several already dragged to the ground and ripped apart, ravenous maws opening along the beast’s bodies. The only saving grace that had given the survivors any chance of escape was the things seemed to enjoy playing with their meals.
The girl shivered beneath her cloak, but glanced up at the grim-faced man standing next to her, thinking back to the lectures during fighting drills.
“Bodies are chaotic. Mouths, claws. They’ve been armored. Black blood. Savage but relentless. Focused. Summoned,” the girl said, frowning.
As if in response, a volley of arrows shot from the treeline behind the survivors, dark metal quickly burying themselves into necks and eyes. Moving swiftly and silently from the trees, more human shapes emerged, covered entirely in armor. They moved fluidly, the armor on their bodies a strange bark-like texture, looking almost like it was fused to their skin. The only sign they weren’t humans were the horns and tails, a variety of different rising growths emerging from the helmets as flames danced around the visors.
“Demons,” the old bear grunted, taking a step back. “Got what we came for. Come, Grey.”
As the man began to quietly lumber away, Grey followed, face grim.
“We didn’t help them,” she said, looking at him. It wasn’t a question.
“We weren’t paid to hunt today, pup. Just figure shit out. If we’ve got an army of demons, everyone in this damn country needs to be ready to defend themselves, or pay damn well for us to do it.”
The girl nodded, glancing back for just a moment as smoke rose behind them, the bloom rising like a flower into the twilight sky.
Keinra had been gripped by demonic incursions for four years. The attacks had begun in the unclaimed borderlands, in areas where none of the countless feuding powers that tried to claim the Bladelands held much sway. Rumors had spread, but nobody in the larger settlements and cities paid them much mind. It was only when the infernal powers had grown bolder, striking at supply lines, that the warlords of Keinra took notice.
The camp of refugees that had gathered at Haal Point was filled with those from the unclaimed lands, many trying to secure passage across the sea to the city of Stinjul, the city of merchants. The jeweled sapphire of the western coast.
Among the crowds that had gathered around the boat, a grim-faced man held a woman by the shoulders, both grimacing as another family was sent away by guards. A child, four years old at the oldest, was clinging to her mother’s leg, body covered entirely by a cloak and heavy wool tunic that went down to ground.
“…They aren’t going to let us go,” the woman said, glancing up at the man. “Are they?”
“We have to try,” was the only response, before he began to walk towards the guards. While he was sturdy and walked with purpose, the man was almost an entire head shorter then either guard.
“We’re here to request passage to Stinjul,” the man said gravely. “Me, my wife, and her child.”
The woman’s face fell for a moment when he said that, before she scooped the child up in her arms.
“Come on, Zelith,” she whispered, the kid laughing.
“My master is only accepting a few more passengers. Do you have the coin?” the guard muttered, glaring at the three destitute people before him.
“No,” the man said, glancing over at Zelith. “But he is going to want to bring her. Stinjul has the academy of magic, yes? Lahrii.”
The guard’s attention had begun to drift the moment he said no, but he nodded, looking towards the other guard and moving his head.
“That it is, yes. I’m sorry, but if you don’t have the coi-”
As the woman sighed, looking concerned, the man reached over and quickly pulled the hood off the child’s head.
Zelith blinked, looking around confused, as the guard paused, letting out a sharp intake of breath. The child was odd, her skin a saturated pink shade, as her eyes were two black orbs with glowing blue electric eyes. The short mess of hair on her head was pure white, and a set of four small bark-like nubs were emerging from the front of her forehead and the sides of her head.
The guard shifted his weapon, looking at the child with a clear degree of fear as he looked at her mother, the look on his face unreadable for a moment before he turned towards the boat.
“I will be right back.”
As he left, the man seemed to visibly deflate, looking over towards the child.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Zelith’s mother said, eyes fixed on Zelith. “We don’t know what the mages in Lahrii would even want with her.”
“She’s a witchblood. They’re rare, mages are always interested in things like that,” the man grumbled.
As Zelith laughed, the guards continuing to talk with an elderly woman on the deck of the ship, the family looked over the ocean, towards the horizon where they would shortly be making their new home.
So, bit of an announcement with this one! I’ve decided after the reaction to and my own experience writing the original UNWOUND to start work in a longer version of the events, shifted out of the original’s DND setting into something more specific. UNWRITTEN is the first part of this new rewritten version.
The original UNWOUND and UNBROKEN should be readable without the context of this new version, and I may continue that particular line at a later point if the inspiration hits.
Strike The Horizon 