Bloodling

CHAPTER 1: THE BEGINNING

Dayn continued through the trees slowly, stepping carefully as not to break a fallen twig or leave any sign of his passage in the dirt. He ducked under a low-hanging branch and chanced a quick glance over his shoulder. He had been through these same trees countless times as a boy growing up, but right now his need for care was such that he could not afford a mistake.
         He had turned a mere sixteen years old only a few days earlier. He was thin in build and in the face, with sharp chisel features, his high cheek bones met with a straight round nose. His eyes were blue like two small ponds that shone beautifully in the sunlight and could often be used as a reflection of his inner-feelings. His hair was a dark brown and hung loose to his shoulders and his skin was a pale white like a sheet of paper and was just as easily bruised.
         He came to a familiar tree and stopped, leaning against it for support. He stood and stretched, clicking his back from any tension. Taking a deep breath he looked up through the trees into the sky. He could only make out a little blue of the sky through the leaves, the sun’s rays lighting them into a radiating bright green. He stood admiring them, his blue eyes shining just as bright when a sudden snap came from his left. Immediately he was back down in a crouching position, his head tilted to the right, his left ear warm with silence.
         Another sound broke to his left and he twisted on his heels, just in time to see a boy, the same age as him charging him. Wide eyes with horror Dayn watched as the boy, his face twisted with intent ducked low and then threw himself at him. Dayn closed his eyes and tensed his body, ready to absorb the impact. The boy’s right shoulder hit him first, square in the chest. Dayn felt the hit, the wind being knocked out of him  and then he was suddenly smashed against the tree at his back, his head whipped back and he heard a feint crack from his skull as he slipped into blackness. His mind began to wander from him, his unconscious pulled him from his body and he went, too tired to fight it.


When he came to, he could feel the change. He felt rather light-headed but It was not only his head that felt light but his entire being. It felt as though the weight of his body, his bones, muscle and flesh did not matter, it gave him a buzz, a small sense of power. A sense of perhaps there was more to him than he thought and what was more, he liked it. He could feel a force coursing through his body, it flooded his veins, engulfing him silently and invisibly, regenerating him, giving him new energy, new life. At the same time something awoke. Something came alive inside of him, it stirred from its nest within him. Trapped inside his bones it swam in his blood seeking a way out of its confinement. Every so often it would brush against his skin, sending a shiver across his flesh, a little tickle to remind him it was there.
         He pushed himself up off the ground and stood up, testing himself. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the darkness of his inner mind and welcoming the light of the day. Looking around he could see he was alone in the forest. He was stood by the tree which he had hit his head on not long before, but his attacker was no where to be seen. It was still light but through a small parting between two trees he could see the sun beginning to set.
         Deciding it was best that he make his way home, he began walking west, eager to see his small village again. Lost in thought, he almost missed the ripple across his skin, an almost impossibly small tremor. He stopped and checked himself. Feeling nothing more, he shrugged it off and continued several paces more, before he felt it again. He did not have a chance to think about it the second time, as a sudden jolt in his bones stopped him dead. An inner earthquake from deep within him shook his entire being, threatening to dislodge his mind from his body. He screamed upwards. Fighting against what unknown thing was going to happen to him now. His arms snapped up, his fingers clawed at his throat, at an invisible noose around his neck. His body shook with rage, unable to open his eyes or hear anything beyond his own wail, his head felt as though it was filling with air, the pressure constantly building, cutting off his oxygen. Fighting back tears and gasping for air he prayed for an end. To be free of the pain. Not an end to his life, but more to be free of the struggle to live. The ground beneath him shook and threatened to swallow him. There was an ear-piercing screech like a high pitch whistle inside his soul that bounced off him like wind against an oak.
         In a breath, it was over. His body relaxed and he slumped to his knees. The pressure in his head had gone but all his muscles ached from exhaustion. Panting heavily on both knees he fought against the cries of his mind to stay on the floor. Blinking his eyes open, he stumbled onto his feet but it was too much for him and he slammed back down hard onto all fours. He groaned painfully, blowing a patch of grass from his face. Ahead of him, still face down, he saw a tree just a few paces ahead of him. With the last of his energy he placed on hand out ahead of him and painstakingly followed it with his other hand. He dug his fingertips awkwardly into the soil and began to slowly pull himself towards the trunk of the tree. He reached the tree and used it for support as through gritted teeth, he scraped himself off the floor and onto his feet.
         He was balanced precariously against the trunk, his body stiff and his breathing laboured. With the last of his reserve he kicked himself fully upright, pressing his back flat against the tree. With a deep breath he brought his head up and opened his eyes to have a first look around. He expected to see trees as far as his eyes would allow, but was stunned to find himself no longer in the forest, but on the edge of his village.
         Ahead of him spread out across a clearing in the forest was his home. He should have been relieved that his travelling for the day was nearly over.  Instead he could feel the dread in the pit of his stomach. A spine chilling shiver crawled up his back as he looked at his home. Flames engulfed every building he could see. Towering into the sky, the fires licked at the clouds, crackling their challenge into the night. He screamed inwardly, an almost pitiful whimper, as he pushed himself away from the tree, intending for the burning village. With a faltering step, he stumbled clumsily, falling onto his stomach. Lying on the grass, his face in the dirt, he felt the last of his energy spill out from him and he collapsed into blackness. The crackling of the fires behind him.


Dayn woke from the dream, head-sore and dry in the throat.  He was aware of voices somewhere near him, but they were not clear enough to hear, they were just a distant sound drowning in his ears. He blinked open his eyes. His vision was slow to come at first, as though there was a fog around him, all he could see was a wave of colour in front of him dancing in the light. Gradually it cemented into matter, the light and the colours merging together to form substance. Voices suddenly accompanied the shapes.
         ‘Ouch, are you ok Dayn?’
         Dayn rubbed the back of his neck with a palm and loosened a kink from his back. Knelt down in front of him was a familiar face. ‘That was some hit Seb. You don’t hold back, do you?’
         Seb smiled and stood up, looking down at Dayn satisfied that he was alright. Seb was the same age as Dayn, almost the same height, just an inch or two taller, he had short dark black hair, like a raven’s feather it absorbed light and gave nothing back. His eyes were green almost emerald in colour, they were piercing, always seeming to look deep inside of the person, reading them like a book from within. He was more built than Dayn, broad shoulders and thick arms to match and completed by a toned torso, all accomplished by daily fighting practice with his father, who was the head of the village where they lived.
         Before anything more could be said another  person, a girl came running up laughing and joined Seb, looking down at Dayn. 'Good hit Seb. Haha! You should have seen the look on your face Dayn.'
         'Yes, yes very funny. Erm, do you mind Seb, thank you.'
         Seb hopped off him and gave his hand for his friend to help himself up.
         Testing his legs, Dayn dusted himself down and gave a long stretch before shaking loose any remaining knots in his joints.
         ‘Everything ok Dayn?’
         Dayn looked at the girl for a few seconds seeming confused by the question, then gave a heavy sigh and nodded. ‘Yeah, I think so.’ He looked back at the tree of which he hit his head on. ‘No permanent damage. Just a bit dizzy, that’s all.’
         ‘That was a heavy hit you took.’
         ‘I remember bracing myself for the hit and then, nothing.’
         The girl gave a little giggle. ‘I’m surprised there’s not blood.’
         Seb moved away and did not stop to speak. 'Let’s make our way back. It’s been gone a day and has been growing dark for a while now and we're already late for supper I imagine.'
         Dayn watched as the girl nodded her head and fell into position on Seb's right. She was twin sister to Seb, born only moments after her brother. She had long dark red hair that flowed to her breasts. Her face was smooth, her cheeks high and her thin lips were pink like a rose before blooming. Looking at them you would not put them together as brother and sister apart from in the eyes. Like her brother, Soph had green eyes, though slightly brighter than his and hers were always large with care, never judging, but concerning. She had blossomed into womanhood over the last few years and although they had been friends since either could remember Dayn for a while had wanted more but had always been to scared to vent his feelings for her.
         Now as she walked side-by-side with Seb he could not help but admire the curves of her body in her hunting gear. She matched them in her dress sense. Her knee high boots and her tight wolf-skin pants joined with her white shirt. Her hair was tied up and a few strands were Although dressed like a boy, the curves of her spine and her chest were enough to give any boy a racing heart.
         She looked over her shoulder to him breaking his thoughts and he looked at the floor rather embarrassed at being caught looking at her. ‘Are you coming Dayn?’
         He nodded dumbly and headed towards them. Joining Seb on his left. Although something plagued him back in the recess of his mind, something he could not remember but his subconscious told him he should.  But he continued pushing the thoughts away, maybe he would remember later.
         The three of them headed back to the Village. The sun had long disappeared behind the tree line and the moon was now creeping into view. As they went Dayn and Soph exchanged glances with one another earning the odd sneer from Seb who remained fixed in the middle of them. On the final leg, the three of them broke into a half run, fighting sore feet and weary bodies in their earnest to get home. They approached the final row of trees, almost like a wall they stood. Keeping the village hidden from unwanted visitors. Seb quickened his pace to a full run and ploughed straight into them, disappearing through shrub and leaf. Soph and Dayn stopped. Soph flashed a smile before following Seb. Silently disappearing beyond the shrubbery. Biting his lip Dayn set off after them. As he neared the trees, he closed his eyes and took a leap forward. He hit the wall of foliage and broke through it smoothly.
         On the other side he hit the ground running but almost immediately stopped as he looked out upon the chaos ahead of him. His village was being choked in thick, black clouds. Eyes wide with horror and without thinking he bounded after Seb and Soph who had already set off running in a desperate hope.
         In those next few moments, as he ran across the field towards his house, he thought about Balk. The man who was like a father to him. Dayn had never known his real family, or where he had come from. Balk had always put the questioning off, telling him that he would come to know when it was time for him to be told. Dayn was far from happy with Balk’s stance on it, but he grudgingly accepted it. Balk was a hard man, but fair, he had never hurt Dayn or tried to and he had always treated him with respect and in return Dayn had always respected him back for it. But now as Dayn ran towards his burning home, for the first time in his life he felt in danger, he had always felt safe, protected not just by Balk but something else, something he could not really describe, not that he had known real danger, but he never felt he would particularly find it either. And now he prayed for Balk to be safe as he raced onwards.
         He vaulted over a blood spilled corpse without breaking stride and passed Soph not long after. Ahead he saw Seb crash through the door of one of the houses and disappear inside. Dayn aimed for his own home, breaking left at the main village circle and just like Seb crashed through the door, but rather less convincing, stumbling through the entrance and only managing to stay on his feet by catching hold of the banister running along the edge of the stairs.
         The house was thick with smoke, rising upwards, it formed at the ceiling, swirling around his head it threatened to choke him with every intake of breath that he took. Choking on fumes and only too conscious of the sound of fires licking their way through the house, he dropped down to his knees attempting to avoid the cloud of toxins sat above his head, but already the smoke had began seeping into his lungs, crawling through his nose and his mouth, threading its way down into his core and spreading across his soul, threatening to overpower him. Coughing, head sore, dizzy and dry in the throat, he willed himself to move and began crawling on all fours towards the living area of the house. Not because he thought that, there, would be the best place to start a search for Balk but simply because the living area was the nearest room.
         He reached the door and fortunately for him, it was not fully closed and a slight push
was sufficient. Even before he opened it, he could feel the heat from within. It became quickly apparent that this was where the main fire in the house was blazing. The door swung open , allowing smoke to flood out from within. Dayn eased his way into the room, choking on the new wave of smoke. He somehow resisted the urge to rub his eyes as tears, caused by the smoke, filled his vision, almost blurring his sight.
         Just like he had guessed, the main fire was in the living area. It burned untamed in the far end of the room, the flames spiralled upwards against the far wall like a snake, the flames uncoiling from the main body of the fire and slithering intently, spreading its destruction without care. The only part of the room so far untouched from the blaze was the wall upon which the door was placed and the centre of the room. He thought it miraculous that the inferno had not yet completely devoured the entire room, but he did not have enough time to dwell on the situation, as stirring from the centre of the room caught his eye as the cloud of smoke cleared from his face, rushing out of the room.
         He scrambled hastily to Balk who was lay strewn across the floor in a pool of his own blood. Without thinking he rolled Balk over onto his back, supporting his head with his knees. Dayn now had new tears in his eyes, separate from those shed because of smoke. Balk stirred once more, blinking his eyes open, having to stare hard just to make Dayn out. Balk’s lips moved and Dayn had had to strain to hear him, bringing his ears close to Balk’s mouth.
         ‘Yours, Dayn take it, take it Dayn.’ He coughed, drawing blood up as he did. Dayn watched as Balk brought his left arm up, a small greying chain was wrapped around his fingers, a round medallion attached hung loosely from his it. ‘So your friends, and your foes know you.’ Another coughing fit from Balk, but he continued, his breathing becoming more difficult. ‘My sword, take my sword. Its yours now, take it.’ One more coughing spell and Balk lay still, his eyes closed forever.
         For a few moments Dayn was stunned, too shaken to move, ignorant of the ferocity of the heat on his face. Unaware of the danger of the fire as it now spread towards him. A sudden shake in the building broke his trance, it was the second floor of the house beginning to collapse. Only now did Dayn realise the extent of Balk’s injuries. His chest had several slashes across it and his face fared no better. His nose broken and twisted. His right arm lay severed at the elbow and was a couple of feet away, but grasped in his hand, unmoved was Balk’s sword. Whatever had attacked him had not caught him by surprise, but yet, there were no signs of an intruder, only Balk.
         Dayn scuttled over to the severed arm, placing Balk down gently to rest where he lay, taking the medallion and slipping it over his head. Uneasily, he gently eased Balk’s fingers open, but even now Balk’s strength was clear and it took a little effort to pry them open. Once done he slid the sword from Balk’s palm and he stood, holding the sword out ahead of him with both hands.
         For a moment he was mesmerised by it. He had seen it before when Balk had attended it. He insisted on running a soft cloth along it each night, telling Dayn that a good weapon is a loved weapon. Respect the weapon and the weapon will respect you, he had always said. Dayn had never understood those words, but he respected Balk enough to believe it meant something to him. And now as he held it for the first time, its bloodstained blade shimmering in the light of the flames, he thought, just for a moment that perhaps he understood. That perhaps he understood the love a man would have for a blade, a love shared by both man and sword, like holding a beautiful woman, his instincts knew the feel, it knew how to treat and hold it and knew just how to wield it. He felt as though he himself was a seasoned warrior, as though the sword knew him and shared its knowledge with him. He felt the sword make the connection with him, he and the sword becoming one, he felt its balance, its power and more importantly he felt its eagerness for blood. Like an untamed beast it prowled through him, whispered to him, telling him to kill. And he would have been lost to it, if he had not heard the scream from outside. Soph’s scream.
         In a sudden he had forgotten about everything and had charged his way outside, turning sharply once out the door and heading straight for Soph and Seb’s house. Several yards short he saw Seb flood into the path and disappear around the wall to the left of the house. With his last remaining energy he quickened his pace and rounded the corner almost slamming into the back of Seb, who was stood still, hands on hips. Dayn stepped from behind him and shook his head, sighing loudly and kicking the tension off his heart.
         'Morning all.' The Elf hugged Soph closely letting her sob into his chest.
         'What's happened Eion?' Dayn was now bent over double, suddenly in need of air.
         'I don't know. I was on my hunt and came back and…‘ Eion turned his head, biting his lip in frustration. 'Damn it!'
         Dayn nodded. Eion was known for his hunts and was known to be gone for days upon a time. Although it was odd for Eion to hunt without returning with some sort of reward, even if it was only  a hare or two, but Dayn had too much to deal with for the moment to note it. Eion was the only Elf in the village. Apparently abandoned at birth by his parents, he was found in the surrounding forest in wraps, and was brought to the village to be raised by Humans and in general got on quite well with most, particularly Balk, who had always said he saw something in Eion.
         He had sharp pointy ears and a sharp edge to his blue-grey eyes like an Elf, but he did not have the speed or strength of an Elf which gave people reason to believe he was born of half-Elf, half-Human. Something that was well known to be against Elvin law and would explain the reason behind his abandonment. He had long white hair, just as long as Soph’s, he let it hang loose, never trying to hide it, but he never had to brush it from his eyes either, it seemed to Dayn that if he wanted, Eion could probably think of a style and his hair would do it without being touched. His clothes were clean, something that virtually impossible to do considering he hunted, but his leggings and shirt were never dirty, his boots only muddy around the bottom rim. Otherwise Eion was as fresh as he was when he left a few days before.
         'Everyone's dead.' Seb simply said, and the others looked at him, as he walked sullenly away, his back to them.


Having been walking for well into the night, sore feet and dreariness got the better of the four of them and they had found a small clearing from shrub and leaf to rest for the remainder of the night. Barely a word had been spoken since they fled the bloodshed of their homes. Soph had since moved to her brother Seb for comfort and now lay down, her head on his chest snoring lightly. Seb had one arm behind his head for support and one around Soph and was staring into the starlit sky seeking escape of some kind. Eion was sat against a tree, head down and his hands running through his hair. Dayn was lay on his side twiddling the medallion in his palm running his fingers along it.
         'What happened?' Seb's question was more rhetorical than directed at anyone. 'Who did that? Why did they do it? Where did they come from?'
         'Whoever did it, they did it quick and silent. They killed everyone while they were in their houses, or almost in their houses, obviously at night while they slept, but some were awoken and tried to fight back, a couple may have tried to flee but were cut down where we found them in the grass.' Eion was now looking up at the centre of the circle they had formed.
         'There were no tracks, no sign that they were there. Just the bodies...' Seb bit his lip and shut his eyes trying to force the images from his mind.
         'Maybe it was random...' Eion shuck his head at his own statement. 'No. No, it wasn't random. They were after something. Or someone.'
         'It doesn't make sense.'
         'What's that you got there Dayn?' Eion finally noticed Dayn's attention was on an object he held in his hand. 'Dayn...Dayn!'
         'Sorry?' He looked towards Eion who was staring at him quizzically. 'I was lost for a moment, I don't know what it is, well it's a medallion but I don’t know what it means. Balk had it in his hand when he died. He wanted me to have it. It's just a rusted medallion, circle, with writing along the top of it, along the rim. On one side it say's Marc of the Knights and on the other is an imprint of a sword with what looks like a lightning bolt beside it on the right. I don’t know why, but I think it has something to do with my past.'
         Seb sneered giving a small grunt of irritation. 'What do you know Dayn? That...Thing you have in your hand could be anything. And maybe Balk stole it and that's why the village was attacked.'
         'Shut up Seb!' Eion stood and moved over to Dayn sitting down beside him. 'Balk was a good man. He looked after us all at times of need and besides, if it was stolen don't you think whoever it was that killed him would have taken it?' Dayn almost felt like he sensed something in Eion’s words, something he knew but was not revealing to them. But he did not have time to think on it.
         Seb finally moved from his position suddenly agitated. He rolled away from his position and jumped to his feet, causing Soph to fall onto the floor startling her awake. 'Oh yeah, and what about you?'
         'Me? Now what have you got against me?' Eion stood meeting Seb head on in the middle of the small clearing. Both stared each other in the eye, letting no ground be given. Dayn just ignored them, turning his attention to the sword that he had not let go from his grip since he had got it from Balk.
         'You! You're not even fully Elf. Half-Breed!'
         And with that, Eion landed a right hook onto Seb's left cheek. Both lads fell to the floor rolling back and forth lashing out whenever possible upon one another. Dayn remained seated, once again seemingly  lost in his own world of questions. Soph rather annoyed at being awoken got to her feet and began shouting at Seb and Eion.
         'You two! Stop right now! Stop it! Stop it!' She kicked out at them, kicking Seb in the ribs and Eion in the leg.
         'Ouch! What was that for?' Seb rolled away from Eion nursing his side.
         'For being stupid. Now we're already in enough trouble without turning against each other.' She turned away back to her original position and sat down, fighting tears as she did.
         The other two grumbled apologies and went back to their positions. Dayn had finally put his medallion back around his neck and tucked it away under his shirt. The sword he let lie beside him, patting it as he let it go. Looking down at the ground lost in his thoughts, the hairs on the nape of his neck began to tingle. Looking up he was surprised to suddenly find Soph looking back at him. Her green eyes watery but somehow loving too. Her red hair hung loose to her bosom, like a sea of roses in the night. Her lips were smooth and appealing. A beautiful young woman and how he earned for her. To feel her lips on his, to touch her soft cheeks with his palm. She flashed him a small caring smile, but all he could manage back was a mere twitch of his cheeks. He looked back down to the ground, angry at himself before lying down and closing his eyes, wishing sleep upon himself. Although he did not look up again he knew Soph frowned, her eyes more watery now as she too longed for sleep.
         Eion sat back against his tree and folded his arms ready to sleep. ‘It’s cold tonight, could do with a blanket, or even a fire would do.’ The other’s simply grunted approvals. They retrieved nothing from the village when they left, only Balk’s sword for Dayn, Seb took his father’s sword and sheath, but no food or change of clothing. But fortunately Eion had kept his bow and arrows he had taken for his hunt the day before.
         ‘Now what do we do?’ Soph lay back down, this time on her side facing the middle of the group.
         ‘Sleep.’ Seb lay down beside her on his back, looking back up into the stars. ‘In the morning, we make our way east to Windefell. There we should tell them about what’s happened, at least then they won’t be caught by surprise. That is, if they haven’t already.’
         ‘East? that will take us through Fandel won’t it?’ Soph shifted in her position, uncomfortable for the moment. ‘Is that safe? I mean we have always been told about how it’s the port town for murderers and smugglers.’
         ‘Windefell is the closest City. If we’re going to find help anywhere, I should think it’s there.’
         ‘Ok Seb. At least we have a starting point. But what then?’
         ‘I don’t know. I just don’t know.’
         Seb, Soph and Eion all closed their eyes, finally finding peace in the madness. Dayn however glanced a quick look towards Soph. Noting her beauty once more before he slipped away into blackness with her in his mind. How beautiful she was, he thought, how beautiful.