PapilioTempesta
Tots Som Pops
- Joined
- Mar 22, 2013
- Location
- Barcelona
WARNING This story is rather dark, both due to its style and content, and surely NOT for children.
---
Hi everyone! After reading some great stories here, I've started writing a fanfic of my own. It takes place during the events of Twilight Princess, I'll try to follow the game's story as accurately as possible.
Despite my best efforts there may some grammar mistakes left (sorry). I'll gladly accept all kind of corrections and criticism, and try to do it better every time. I'll try to post new chapters on a weekly basis.
Thank you for reading. Enjoy!
THE SHADOW WITHIN
Prologue and Chapter 1
There had been a war. Two brave, ancient nations had fought each other, like many times before, but this war had to put an end to all conflicts that were and would be. And this would only be achieved by complete annihilation. The winning side, more powerful, better armed and organised, hunted down with great care and precision all survivors, warriors or not; they burnt their villages to the ground, destroyed any little hint of life in that already arid soil and sealed the entrance of the cursed land. And yet, despite all their efforts, one little girl managed to sneak unseen into the realm of springing life...
But that had been a long time ago, and no one cared to remember about it any longer.
---
"Good morning, Sir. 'Tis a blessing sun shining today, is it not? What will it be? Some arrows? I hear you are an excellent archer. Keep practicing. Yes, Sir, we are all well, gods be gracious. That'll be 40 rupees. Thank you for coming, Sir."
It was a little shop, with hardly any place to move, so platforms were scattered at different levels to make the most of the space. From the storeroom up above, Norah looked down at her grandmother, who was still smiling and bowing as the customer leaved the shop. Contempt shone in her grey eyes. She believed such behaviour was improper of anyone with one hint of self-respect, even more when treating so respectfully such idiotic fools like the people of Kakariko.
When the customer was gone, Grandmother looked up for Norah in the upper side of the store.
"Girl, bring down the spare bug baits, we're running out of them down here. Don't be lazy, move on! You still have to pile up those boxes while I close the shop."
Norah stopped for a second. Now, that was new...
"You are closing the shop at midday? When there still are customers out there? What for?"
"I made an appointment with Renado at noon. Today is the day we honour our fallen, I distinctly remember telling you that yesterday."
Ah, yes... Norah remembered hearing something like that. She hadn't paid much attention, though: when Grandmother said ‘our fallen’, she meant her own fallen -Norah's father and grandfather, Grandmother's family. As if her dear son had never been married, banishing into oblivion his wife and her brother. Norah couldn't remember her mentioning their names even once in the past eight years.
Norah came down and took care of the messed up boxes. Grandmother was muttering while looking for the main key. "Damn those Gorons, leaving us with no supplies... Whatever's got in their thick heads? As if times weren't hard enough as they are... Hurry up, girl, I'm about to lock the door here!"
As she stepped outside, Norah could feel her blood boiling, but she had learned long ago to cool down her emotions. Hatred ran through her veins like poison. She hated the village and despised everyone within it. She had always felt uneasy there, like a stranger. Not that the villagers were unkind to her; quite the opposite, everyone was friendly, but in a naive, foolish way that made her feel like a chained wolf among blind, happy sheep. It got on her nerves.
Many times had she thought of running away, trying to forget the fact that she had no place to run to, no family who’d welcome her. Grandmother had reluctantly taken care of her since she was a child, never entirely hiding her resentment towards Norah's kind and, as a result, Norah herself. It was her hair. Not a single soul in those lands had such a bright red hair, the same hair vibrating with exotic beauty that years ago had charmed the old lady's son away from her.
Before heading to the graveyard, Grandmother wanted to make a stop before the spring, which was said protected the village from the dark and the evil. The old woman closed her eyes, put her hands together and whispered a prayer.
"May the gods and the spirit of the water protect the good people of this town."
"There are no good people in this town, only fools and hypocrites," replied Norah, staring coldly at the fountain.
Grandmother turned to her, with severe wrath. "You will not speak like this, you insolent girl," she said. "You will apologise this instant."
She did so, not even turning nor changing her expression. She'd repeated that apology so many times it had no meaning left. But Grandmother was apparently satisfied. Then they went on to the graveyard.
At the end of a narrow path, the necropolis opened in a wide cul-de-sac, full of tidily arranged graves. Against the wall at the other side of the yard there was an old stone dais, which was said that had to be the entrance to the mausoleum of some eminent foreign lord, something that never came to happen. It looked old and sombre, so it went quite unnoticed.
A tall man was waiting for them. He was Renado, the village's shaman. The three of them walked silently through the old tombstones, and knelt before one of them. Renado's deep voice broke the silence.
"We are here today to pay our respects to those who we love and are no longer among us. Here lie the bones of Trevor and Joshua, father and son. May their spirits find peace and protect their loved ones, who cherish their remembrance."
"What of my mother?" said Norah, her voice cold as ice.
Renado sighed, but had no time to speak. The old woman snapped with contempt.
"You certainly are determined to ruin such a special day, are you not?" she said, upholding Norah's stare. "That woman never belonged to this place. My son should have never married her. She was a born scoundrel who brought shame to our family, along with that brother of hers, and they deserved to end the way they did. Now stop all this nonsense and show some respect to your kin."
"Oh, I will," she said, standing up, and walked away to the end of the graveyard. Not even bothering to look back when her grandmother called her, she went up the stone dais and sat under a tree. There she closed her eyes and remembered...
Her grandmother was outraged. "The insolence! And she goes to that very place, at a time like this! Tell me, Renado, how am I supposed to deal with such a stubborn and ungrateful girl?"
"Be patient. She hasn't had an easy childhood. Despite her attitude, I am positive that one day she will find in her heart to accept and love you," said Renado, unwilling to take sides.
They kept on praying, but he had an eye on Norah. She had more silver than gold in her eyes, but she really took after her mother, and was nearly the age she was when she first came to the village. He, like many, would never forget the years she spent there.
---
Twenty years ago two foreigners arrived in Kakariko. Two youths, a man and a woman, riding a miserable horse, but not looking miserable themselves nonetheless. On the contrary, they were an impressive sight: attractive, dark skinned, their features sharp. Their hair was bright, fiery red, shining from the colour of the setting sun to that of the blood, and they had a proud, wild look in their golden eyes. They wore plain clothes and had nothing on them but a sword and some rupees. They introduced themselves as sister and brother, looking for a place to pass the winter. Their names were Zehmara and Delarion. Where they came from, they didn't say and no one ever asked.
Having them around was like fresh air in the tranquil life of Kakariko. The strangers were young and free, living as if every day was their last. They spent their time with the villagers, sharpening their fight skills and helping from time to time, but they never really fitted in. Nevertheless, young Joshua saw in Zehmara a beauty he had never known, and quickly befriended the siblings. It wasn't long before he announced his mother that he would marry that exotic beauty, and thus the strangers decided to stay and start a family.
Years passed peacefully. Zehmara and Joshua had a daughter, Naosheera, who everyone called Norah. Delarion caused some trouble from time to time, since he apparently was keen on challenging every youngster and seducing almost every woman in the village, but in general the siblings got adapted to the slow way of live in Kakariko.
However, both Delarion and Zehmara had somewhat a restless nature, and would sometimes stay out of the village for some days. At first only Delarion was away, which was reassuring for all the male neighbours, but soon Zehmara joined him, leaving the child with her father. They left gods knew where, with their swords sharpened, and often returned covered in wounds, carrying with them rupees of unknown and suspicious origin. Their hardly hidden loot, spent carelessly afterwards, aroused a lot of gossip among the villagers, although they never cared for what people said.
There came a terrible winter that took Joshua’s live away from Zehmara. This made her and her brother stay put for a long time, rising up Norah, who grew to become a cheerful girl full of energy. When she was old enough to take care of herself, her mother and uncle went back to their mysterious adventures. One night, they even dared into the sacred mines of the Gorons, up on Death Mountain, where they found a priceless jewel, which they left on the road after sneaking past the last guard. They always had plenty of stories to tell when they returned. Norah always listened in fascination.
“We found a great treasure hidden in the deep darkness,” said once Delarion, waving his hands in the air. “There were monsters everywhere! But they didn’t stand a chance. Your mom stabbed two of them before they could charge, then there was a swing of her sword and some other three dropped dead.”
"I admit it was fun this time, but this is but petty theft, hardly any excitement,” said Zehmara. “We should be doing something greater; especially you, dear brother. You're destined for glory."
"That's just old legends,” said Delarion, as he taught Norah how to use knives. “You, little Naosheera, you will be the one destined for glory.”
But a quest for some greater a challenge stack in their minds; therefore one day they rode north, to the deed that would be their most difficult and last. After a week they were back, smiling as ever and carrying a sack full of clanging mysteries. Once home, they showed their prize to Norah. The sack was full of swords, knives, bows and armours, all of them tough yet beautifully designed.
“These are the weapons of great heroes, the ancient blades that slain hundreds of men in many a war. We took what we liked,” said Delarion.
“There, Norah, choose yours. They belong to you now. Hide them well until you’re strong enough to use them.”
Norah watched the prize in amazement, but something caught her eye under the rich weaponry. She took it; it was a silver crown. Delarion saw it too, and frowned.
“That’s strange. It’s the King’s crown. Now then, Zehmara, do you recall grabbing that with all the other stuff?”
She shuddered. “I don’t know, maybe. There were guards searching for us everywhere, we were in a hurry and it was getting dark. Surely some other things ended up in the sack.”
Suddenly, some noise outside made they stand on their guard. From the window Zehmara could see dozens of Hyrule soldiers waiting opposite the building, their swords ready. They had covered their tracks, as ever, but this time the soldiers knew precisely where to look for them. The village was empty, but in an unusual way that suggested there were many observers behind the windows.
Aware of their fate, Delarion and Zehmara kissed Norah and then rushed out, ready to fight for their lives. The siblings were fearful fighters, and many soldiers fell in that riot. But there were just too many of them.
Hyrule wasn’t big on public executions, having room enough in the palace prison cells to let villains rot to death, but orders were that the matter was to be solved in a neat, swift way. The soldiers only needed two pieces of rope and two trees. And, if possible, an elevated position to be broadly seen. That same afternoon they hanged the thieves in Kakariko graveyard before the whole village, watching the entertainment with mild curiosity, and Norah. She was nine.
---
Under the tree where her mother died lay Norah, her eyes closed. Grandmother and Renado where still praying by the tomb of her father.
Suddenly, a scream broke the silence. Renado and Grandmother raised their heads, and Norah was already on her feet, holding a knife. It wasn’t as good as a sword, but she could carry it hidden at all times and she could do quite a lot of harm with it.
There was some commotion in the village. They could hear people screaming, horses trotting and the stream of swords.
“The two of you, stay here and hide!” shouted Renato, as he run to the village.
“Yeah, that’s going to happen,” said Norah, running after him. Grandmother shouted something behind her. She didn’t look back.
The village was sheer chaos. Some houses where on fire. There were people running everywhere, chased by heinous green-skinned goblin-like creatures ridding monstrous boars. Bulblins, she remembered, random unorganised pillagers that dwelled in the wild and seldom attacked places bigger than farms. Except that they had dared into a crowded village in daylight, and didn’t look unorganized at all, each of them looting and wrecking methodically around them. Something was wrong.
The distant whisper of arrows made Norah stand back, unwilling to be an easy target. She ran behind a cart, cursing her lack of weapons. She couldn’t see Renado anywhere; he was probably fighting, or helping someone into shelter. Many people were trying to escape from the battle running south, since the attackers came from the north; but distant screaming suggested the creatures have already thought about that, and were expecting the deserters.
Norah found herself feeling... nothing. Her hometown was being savaged, and yet she found no place in her heart to grieve over it. She did feel some disappointment, not being armed and fit for battle, but nothing else. Her hands weren’t even shaking. She was completely calm.
Despite the strength of the attackers, some men were fighting back. Armed with whatever tools they found, they stood against the intruders, who were soon outnumbered. Then, among the confusion, another rider appeared. It was bigger and nastier than any of the other bulblins, and it swung an enormous battle axe to anyone who came close enough. He rode straight to the spring, and there he blew a great bone horn. The sound it made seemed to tear apart the air around it.
Then the monster looked back. “This place will be made an example of,” he grunted, staring at the courageous fighters. But then, strangely enough, he rode away, taking all his henchmen with him.
Norah stepped away of the cart, puzzled by such an improper retreat. All around her, the people cheered, and rejoiced over such a quick victory. But their joy was short, followed by an abrupt silence; because then, out of nowhere, two terrifying black creatures had fallen down from the sky. They were deep black with strange glowing patterns, wore helmed-shaped masks and had what seemed black tentacles all over them. And they were barely five yards away from her.
Norah froze. Fortunately they seemed to be blinded by the daylight, although she had to hope they couldn’t smell her either. As silently as she could, Norah backed away, but the black creatures somehow sensed her movement and charged towards her. She ran away, without caring for which direction, up the graveyard.
“Chase the beasts! There are women in the graveyard!” shouted Renado. A gang of men, still roused by their previous victory, ran after the creatures.
Norah hardly had any time to think. At the first turn, she ducked under some bushes and let the half-blinded monsters pass her by. Not after seeing the men chasing after them did she recall that her grandmother was still up there.
When she got to the graveyard, the beasts were destroying everything around them. She hurried away from their sight, ducking behind a tomb. She dared to take another look at them, tense like a hunter. The creatures hadn’t noticed her: they were playing with the terrified men, chasing them, cornering them, not letting them escape. They were stronger than anything she had seen before; with one single paw they grabbed effortlessly a built man, crushing him into agony.
A faint grunt made her turn. Some steps away, like a broken doll, lay her grandmother. She was trying to move, trapped in her old, beaten body. The girl watched in silence her efforts to crawl to safety. Back away, the beasts feasted.
“Help me... Please help me out,” she whispered, her voice faltering. She lent a shaking arm to the girl, but couldn’t uphold it for long. It thudded faintly on the ground.
Norah stayed still, staring at her. She turned to the trees, at the far end, and then back to the old woman. Her grey eyes shone like cold stars.
“Norah... Please... I beg you...” she said. Her face was a mask of terror.
Finally, Norah rose. She moved slowly towards her, unsheathing her knife...
---
Hi everyone! After reading some great stories here, I've started writing a fanfic of my own. It takes place during the events of Twilight Princess, I'll try to follow the game's story as accurately as possible.
Despite my best efforts there may some grammar mistakes left (sorry). I'll gladly accept all kind of corrections and criticism, and try to do it better every time. I'll try to post new chapters on a weekly basis.
Thank you for reading. Enjoy!
THE SHADOW WITHIN
Prologue and Chapter 1
There had been a war. Two brave, ancient nations had fought each other, like many times before, but this war had to put an end to all conflicts that were and would be. And this would only be achieved by complete annihilation. The winning side, more powerful, better armed and organised, hunted down with great care and precision all survivors, warriors or not; they burnt their villages to the ground, destroyed any little hint of life in that already arid soil and sealed the entrance of the cursed land. And yet, despite all their efforts, one little girl managed to sneak unseen into the realm of springing life...
But that had been a long time ago, and no one cared to remember about it any longer.
---
"Good morning, Sir. 'Tis a blessing sun shining today, is it not? What will it be? Some arrows? I hear you are an excellent archer. Keep practicing. Yes, Sir, we are all well, gods be gracious. That'll be 40 rupees. Thank you for coming, Sir."
It was a little shop, with hardly any place to move, so platforms were scattered at different levels to make the most of the space. From the storeroom up above, Norah looked down at her grandmother, who was still smiling and bowing as the customer leaved the shop. Contempt shone in her grey eyes. She believed such behaviour was improper of anyone with one hint of self-respect, even more when treating so respectfully such idiotic fools like the people of Kakariko.
When the customer was gone, Grandmother looked up for Norah in the upper side of the store.
"Girl, bring down the spare bug baits, we're running out of them down here. Don't be lazy, move on! You still have to pile up those boxes while I close the shop."
Norah stopped for a second. Now, that was new...
"You are closing the shop at midday? When there still are customers out there? What for?"
"I made an appointment with Renado at noon. Today is the day we honour our fallen, I distinctly remember telling you that yesterday."
Ah, yes... Norah remembered hearing something like that. She hadn't paid much attention, though: when Grandmother said ‘our fallen’, she meant her own fallen -Norah's father and grandfather, Grandmother's family. As if her dear son had never been married, banishing into oblivion his wife and her brother. Norah couldn't remember her mentioning their names even once in the past eight years.
Norah came down and took care of the messed up boxes. Grandmother was muttering while looking for the main key. "Damn those Gorons, leaving us with no supplies... Whatever's got in their thick heads? As if times weren't hard enough as they are... Hurry up, girl, I'm about to lock the door here!"
As she stepped outside, Norah could feel her blood boiling, but she had learned long ago to cool down her emotions. Hatred ran through her veins like poison. She hated the village and despised everyone within it. She had always felt uneasy there, like a stranger. Not that the villagers were unkind to her; quite the opposite, everyone was friendly, but in a naive, foolish way that made her feel like a chained wolf among blind, happy sheep. It got on her nerves.
Many times had she thought of running away, trying to forget the fact that she had no place to run to, no family who’d welcome her. Grandmother had reluctantly taken care of her since she was a child, never entirely hiding her resentment towards Norah's kind and, as a result, Norah herself. It was her hair. Not a single soul in those lands had such a bright red hair, the same hair vibrating with exotic beauty that years ago had charmed the old lady's son away from her.
Before heading to the graveyard, Grandmother wanted to make a stop before the spring, which was said protected the village from the dark and the evil. The old woman closed her eyes, put her hands together and whispered a prayer.
"May the gods and the spirit of the water protect the good people of this town."
"There are no good people in this town, only fools and hypocrites," replied Norah, staring coldly at the fountain.
Grandmother turned to her, with severe wrath. "You will not speak like this, you insolent girl," she said. "You will apologise this instant."
She did so, not even turning nor changing her expression. She'd repeated that apology so many times it had no meaning left. But Grandmother was apparently satisfied. Then they went on to the graveyard.
At the end of a narrow path, the necropolis opened in a wide cul-de-sac, full of tidily arranged graves. Against the wall at the other side of the yard there was an old stone dais, which was said that had to be the entrance to the mausoleum of some eminent foreign lord, something that never came to happen. It looked old and sombre, so it went quite unnoticed.
A tall man was waiting for them. He was Renado, the village's shaman. The three of them walked silently through the old tombstones, and knelt before one of them. Renado's deep voice broke the silence.
"We are here today to pay our respects to those who we love and are no longer among us. Here lie the bones of Trevor and Joshua, father and son. May their spirits find peace and protect their loved ones, who cherish their remembrance."
"What of my mother?" said Norah, her voice cold as ice.
Renado sighed, but had no time to speak. The old woman snapped with contempt.
"You certainly are determined to ruin such a special day, are you not?" she said, upholding Norah's stare. "That woman never belonged to this place. My son should have never married her. She was a born scoundrel who brought shame to our family, along with that brother of hers, and they deserved to end the way they did. Now stop all this nonsense and show some respect to your kin."
"Oh, I will," she said, standing up, and walked away to the end of the graveyard. Not even bothering to look back when her grandmother called her, she went up the stone dais and sat under a tree. There she closed her eyes and remembered...
Her grandmother was outraged. "The insolence! And she goes to that very place, at a time like this! Tell me, Renado, how am I supposed to deal with such a stubborn and ungrateful girl?"
"Be patient. She hasn't had an easy childhood. Despite her attitude, I am positive that one day she will find in her heart to accept and love you," said Renado, unwilling to take sides.
They kept on praying, but he had an eye on Norah. She had more silver than gold in her eyes, but she really took after her mother, and was nearly the age she was when she first came to the village. He, like many, would never forget the years she spent there.
---
Twenty years ago two foreigners arrived in Kakariko. Two youths, a man and a woman, riding a miserable horse, but not looking miserable themselves nonetheless. On the contrary, they were an impressive sight: attractive, dark skinned, their features sharp. Their hair was bright, fiery red, shining from the colour of the setting sun to that of the blood, and they had a proud, wild look in their golden eyes. They wore plain clothes and had nothing on them but a sword and some rupees. They introduced themselves as sister and brother, looking for a place to pass the winter. Their names were Zehmara and Delarion. Where they came from, they didn't say and no one ever asked.
Having them around was like fresh air in the tranquil life of Kakariko. The strangers were young and free, living as if every day was their last. They spent their time with the villagers, sharpening their fight skills and helping from time to time, but they never really fitted in. Nevertheless, young Joshua saw in Zehmara a beauty he had never known, and quickly befriended the siblings. It wasn't long before he announced his mother that he would marry that exotic beauty, and thus the strangers decided to stay and start a family.
Years passed peacefully. Zehmara and Joshua had a daughter, Naosheera, who everyone called Norah. Delarion caused some trouble from time to time, since he apparently was keen on challenging every youngster and seducing almost every woman in the village, but in general the siblings got adapted to the slow way of live in Kakariko.
However, both Delarion and Zehmara had somewhat a restless nature, and would sometimes stay out of the village for some days. At first only Delarion was away, which was reassuring for all the male neighbours, but soon Zehmara joined him, leaving the child with her father. They left gods knew where, with their swords sharpened, and often returned covered in wounds, carrying with them rupees of unknown and suspicious origin. Their hardly hidden loot, spent carelessly afterwards, aroused a lot of gossip among the villagers, although they never cared for what people said.
There came a terrible winter that took Joshua’s live away from Zehmara. This made her and her brother stay put for a long time, rising up Norah, who grew to become a cheerful girl full of energy. When she was old enough to take care of herself, her mother and uncle went back to their mysterious adventures. One night, they even dared into the sacred mines of the Gorons, up on Death Mountain, where they found a priceless jewel, which they left on the road after sneaking past the last guard. They always had plenty of stories to tell when they returned. Norah always listened in fascination.
“We found a great treasure hidden in the deep darkness,” said once Delarion, waving his hands in the air. “There were monsters everywhere! But they didn’t stand a chance. Your mom stabbed two of them before they could charge, then there was a swing of her sword and some other three dropped dead.”
"I admit it was fun this time, but this is but petty theft, hardly any excitement,” said Zehmara. “We should be doing something greater; especially you, dear brother. You're destined for glory."
"That's just old legends,” said Delarion, as he taught Norah how to use knives. “You, little Naosheera, you will be the one destined for glory.”
But a quest for some greater a challenge stack in their minds; therefore one day they rode north, to the deed that would be their most difficult and last. After a week they were back, smiling as ever and carrying a sack full of clanging mysteries. Once home, they showed their prize to Norah. The sack was full of swords, knives, bows and armours, all of them tough yet beautifully designed.
“These are the weapons of great heroes, the ancient blades that slain hundreds of men in many a war. We took what we liked,” said Delarion.
“There, Norah, choose yours. They belong to you now. Hide them well until you’re strong enough to use them.”
Norah watched the prize in amazement, but something caught her eye under the rich weaponry. She took it; it was a silver crown. Delarion saw it too, and frowned.
“That’s strange. It’s the King’s crown. Now then, Zehmara, do you recall grabbing that with all the other stuff?”
She shuddered. “I don’t know, maybe. There were guards searching for us everywhere, we were in a hurry and it was getting dark. Surely some other things ended up in the sack.”
Suddenly, some noise outside made they stand on their guard. From the window Zehmara could see dozens of Hyrule soldiers waiting opposite the building, their swords ready. They had covered their tracks, as ever, but this time the soldiers knew precisely where to look for them. The village was empty, but in an unusual way that suggested there were many observers behind the windows.
Aware of their fate, Delarion and Zehmara kissed Norah and then rushed out, ready to fight for their lives. The siblings were fearful fighters, and many soldiers fell in that riot. But there were just too many of them.
Hyrule wasn’t big on public executions, having room enough in the palace prison cells to let villains rot to death, but orders were that the matter was to be solved in a neat, swift way. The soldiers only needed two pieces of rope and two trees. And, if possible, an elevated position to be broadly seen. That same afternoon they hanged the thieves in Kakariko graveyard before the whole village, watching the entertainment with mild curiosity, and Norah. She was nine.
---
Under the tree where her mother died lay Norah, her eyes closed. Grandmother and Renado where still praying by the tomb of her father.
Suddenly, a scream broke the silence. Renado and Grandmother raised their heads, and Norah was already on her feet, holding a knife. It wasn’t as good as a sword, but she could carry it hidden at all times and she could do quite a lot of harm with it.
There was some commotion in the village. They could hear people screaming, horses trotting and the stream of swords.
“The two of you, stay here and hide!” shouted Renato, as he run to the village.
“Yeah, that’s going to happen,” said Norah, running after him. Grandmother shouted something behind her. She didn’t look back.
The village was sheer chaos. Some houses where on fire. There were people running everywhere, chased by heinous green-skinned goblin-like creatures ridding monstrous boars. Bulblins, she remembered, random unorganised pillagers that dwelled in the wild and seldom attacked places bigger than farms. Except that they had dared into a crowded village in daylight, and didn’t look unorganized at all, each of them looting and wrecking methodically around them. Something was wrong.
The distant whisper of arrows made Norah stand back, unwilling to be an easy target. She ran behind a cart, cursing her lack of weapons. She couldn’t see Renado anywhere; he was probably fighting, or helping someone into shelter. Many people were trying to escape from the battle running south, since the attackers came from the north; but distant screaming suggested the creatures have already thought about that, and were expecting the deserters.
Norah found herself feeling... nothing. Her hometown was being savaged, and yet she found no place in her heart to grieve over it. She did feel some disappointment, not being armed and fit for battle, but nothing else. Her hands weren’t even shaking. She was completely calm.
Despite the strength of the attackers, some men were fighting back. Armed with whatever tools they found, they stood against the intruders, who were soon outnumbered. Then, among the confusion, another rider appeared. It was bigger and nastier than any of the other bulblins, and it swung an enormous battle axe to anyone who came close enough. He rode straight to the spring, and there he blew a great bone horn. The sound it made seemed to tear apart the air around it.
Then the monster looked back. “This place will be made an example of,” he grunted, staring at the courageous fighters. But then, strangely enough, he rode away, taking all his henchmen with him.
Norah stepped away of the cart, puzzled by such an improper retreat. All around her, the people cheered, and rejoiced over such a quick victory. But their joy was short, followed by an abrupt silence; because then, out of nowhere, two terrifying black creatures had fallen down from the sky. They were deep black with strange glowing patterns, wore helmed-shaped masks and had what seemed black tentacles all over them. And they were barely five yards away from her.
Norah froze. Fortunately they seemed to be blinded by the daylight, although she had to hope they couldn’t smell her either. As silently as she could, Norah backed away, but the black creatures somehow sensed her movement and charged towards her. She ran away, without caring for which direction, up the graveyard.
“Chase the beasts! There are women in the graveyard!” shouted Renado. A gang of men, still roused by their previous victory, ran after the creatures.
Norah hardly had any time to think. At the first turn, she ducked under some bushes and let the half-blinded monsters pass her by. Not after seeing the men chasing after them did she recall that her grandmother was still up there.
When she got to the graveyard, the beasts were destroying everything around them. She hurried away from their sight, ducking behind a tomb. She dared to take another look at them, tense like a hunter. The creatures hadn’t noticed her: they were playing with the terrified men, chasing them, cornering them, not letting them escape. They were stronger than anything she had seen before; with one single paw they grabbed effortlessly a built man, crushing him into agony.
A faint grunt made her turn. Some steps away, like a broken doll, lay her grandmother. She was trying to move, trapped in her old, beaten body. The girl watched in silence her efforts to crawl to safety. Back away, the beasts feasted.
“Help me... Please help me out,” she whispered, her voice faltering. She lent a shaking arm to the girl, but couldn’t uphold it for long. It thudded faintly on the ground.
Norah stayed still, staring at her. She turned to the trees, at the far end, and then back to the old woman. Her grey eyes shone like cold stars.
“Norah... Please... I beg you...” she said. Her face was a mask of terror.
Finally, Norah rose. She moved slowly towards her, unsheathing her knife...
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