Mellody of the Trees

Chapter 1~ Taken Away

The glint of silver and golden armor flashed in my face, and the sounds of battle filled my ears.
This night had not been a good one. Many of the men were dieing, and I wasn't quick enough to heal them all. I went one by one checking first to make sure they were alive, not wanting to waist my magic on the dead.
I was not the only one though. There were more, but I had seen none of them since the beginning of the battle. As soon as the first crash of sword on sword sounded we had gone our separate ways.
I ducked as an arrow whizzed over my head, and I fell to my knees to escape it.
We, as in my fellow orphans, were Healers. We consisted of both boys and girls, ranging from ages 12 to 15 or 16. Once we were given our names we were put to work on the battlefields, and most received them at 12.
My given name is Mellody of the Trees, but I hated that name. It was pretty yes, but it was too long for my taste, so I went simply by Mellody. I was the youngest in the group, having gotten my name four years before anyone in the history of Tanvill. I was small, and slight, not exactly something you expected to see on the battlefield. My long brown hair was back in the usual braid, though this far into the battle it was beginning to fall apart, and I had to keep tucking little strands of hair behind my ear.
Someone picked me up from the ground, and set me on my feet. When I looked up to see who had helped me I found Carston.
Carston had always been my friend. He was the oldest, and strongest of the boys, and could have been mistaken for a warrior. How he had become an orphan only I knew. When his father took him to receive his name he was asked to be a warrior. To his father's shame he had refused, and his father had abandoned him.
We were all orphans, having been abandoned for various reasons.
As soon as he knew that I was steady on my feet he ran off again into the battle, and I was left alone in the chaos. I made my way quickly in one direction, healing people as I went. One man I came to was barely breathing. He had a deep wound on his chest, and it was bleeding badly. I knelt down beside him, and placed my fingertips at the edge of the wound. As the blood touched my fingers blue and white sparks burst from my hand, and quickly pulled the skin together, clearing the blood, and even mending the armor, and cloth.
He took no time to thank me, or even look at me, but instead stood, and quickly ran back into the battle. I got up from my knees, and began making my way through the battle once again. Another arrow flew past my ear, and I took a step to the side.
Healers had the shortest life expectancy, and were usually targeted. If you killed the healers the warriors would die, and your enemies would die out faster. And yet Healers were the lowest of low. Those positions were kept for the widowed, orphaned, and weaklings. The dogs even came before healers.
Solders, Generals, Colonels, and even the trainers were held at high esteem, and were often deemed as Nobles.
The sound of a trumpet filled the surrounding area, and I sighed. Finally the battle was over, though our job was far from done. As warriors left the battlefield we found those that needed healing, and did as they asked. I walked into a more secluded area to see if there was anyone there, and found a man lying in the middle of the clearing. I walked over, and knelt down beside him.
His chest wasn't moving, and I could see that he was already dead. As I stood I heard footsteps behind me, and I spun around. There was a man in a dark blue color standing just feet from me. He grabbed a hold of my arm, and griped it tightly. His breathing was labored, and I could tell he needed healing, though he was an enemy, and I wasn't about to do it. He reached out, and took my other hand. He placed it at the wound, and a few little sparks came from my fingers.
My face went rather pale as I realized I was out of magic. It was an easy process to redeem magic, but it took time, and that was something I didn't have.
I fought against him, and did my best to get out of his grip.
"Let...." I didn't get time to say the rest, as he slapped me across the face, then spun me around, and pulled me close to him. He put one arm around me to keep me still as the other wrapped a piece of cloth across my mouth so that I couldn't yell. My wrists hurt where he was holding them tightly, and when he had finished tying the cloth across my mouth he wrapped another around my wrists, tying them together.
I could feel my fingers start to tingle as my circulation was cut off to my hands. Another man walked into the clearing, this one leading two horses, and wearing the same dark blue color. The one holding me talked to this new man in the enemy’s language, then picked me up, and set me down on one of the horses. He tied my wrists to the saddle, and then climbed up behind me. My eyes began to sting, threatening tears, but I held them back. The only person here I cared about was Carston, but even then it was hard for me to leave. The man riding behind me pulled out a cloth covered in something, and put it over my nose and mouth. I tried to hold my breath, not wanting to breath in whatever it was, but eventually I had to let go. When I took my breath in black instantly started to eat at the corners of my vision. The last thing I saw as we road away was Carston. He had his back to us, and was healing someone. Then my vision disappeared completely, and I went limp in the man's arms.