The Mark of the Legend: Book One of the Mark Trilogy Page 6

  The village bustled with festival preparations. There was still much to do.

  The morning of the festival came. Sakina sat alone in a billowy, white gown. Every female Yetta, including her mother, had worn this dress as they accepted their new role and responsibility to the Southern Villages. Sakina placed a ring of twigs, grasses, and dried berries on her head. Her black hair, which was usually pulled tight to the back of her head, was bound in rings of pale twine and fell gracefully down her back.

  Sakina’s parents would officially announce her as their successor at tonight’s celebration. After tonight, she would be the future leader of the Southern Villages. The snow falling outside her hut reflected her cold hopelessness. She would never make her own decisions without the weight of a nation on her shoulders. She would never escape her duty.

  Sakina knew there was no point in putting this off any longer. She stood up, steadied herself and walked out into the village square.

  The Key Village teemed with life as the other Southerners arrived.

  The Tusk Clan rode in on sleek, powerful horses. Every year, the clan hunted the mighty Tuskers and from those hunts, they gathered enough food and supplies to feed themselves and support trade with the other Southern Villages.

  The fishermen from the Coastal Village in the deep south were also in attendance. They traded dried fish, sea salts, and medicines made from ocean plants.

  The goat herders from the Rocky Plains Village also joined the celebration. They traded goat milk, cheese, and wool with the other villages.

  The Key Village was the hub of trade and commerce between the southern people.

  Normally, this gathering of such varied people would thrill Sakina, but today, her heart was heavy.

  The day was full of feasting, music, and the merriment of people embracing their common pursuit of peace. Evening came, and the Yettas addressed the southern people gathered around the roaring fire.

  “Greetings, and welcome to the Key Village.” Sakina’s father said. “This festival is a reminder to all of us of what we have and what it takes to keep it. Our ancestors fled to this land to escape the horrors of the world. For our children, and their children after, we must protect what they built here!”

  The people applauded politely.

  “Let us take a moment to embrace the beauty of the stars, and the beauty of our lives here.”

  Every eye in the Key Village turned to the stars.

  Jacosa was breathless. The stars dazzled like jewels in a pit of tar.

  After a time, Sakina’s mother cleared her throat. “This celebration is a special one. We have a wonderful announcement. It is time for us to present our successor as Yetta of the Southern Villages…”

  Jacosa stared at the sky. She loved the stars and wasn’t ready to look away. Then she saw something strange. The stars seemed to cut in and out, going black and then reappearing. Jacosa’s spine tingled as she heard a distant whooshing sound. Her mind raced. “Something isn’t right.” Fear gripped her as she discovered huge, indistinguishable shapes flying through the sky and blocking out the stars. A terrified whisper escaped her lips. “Not again. This can’t be happening.”

  Jacosa found her voice and shouted as loud as she could. “Run! Everybody run! Run for your lives!”

  As soon as the villagers heard her words, the terrors of the Shadow Lands descended on them.

  Hundreds of Wyverns swooped down from the sky. Wyverns were only a legend to most. They flew with great bat-like wings or stood on two legs and whipped long, barbed tails back and forth. Long fangs curved from their protruding snouts beneath huge, yellow eyes with thin black pupils. Their scaly hides gave them thick armor and camouflage and they spewed poison from their mouths. They were violent creatures without grace or intelligence. They were naturally drawn to Calamity’s will.

  The cries of the villagers echoed in Jacosa’s ears.

  The Wyverns surrounded them and filled the sky. They spewed venom everywhere and tore into the terrified people with razor-sharp teeth.

  Jacosa shook herself out of a daze and ran for cover.

  An older woman stood screaming and frozen with shock nearby.

  “Come on!” Jacosa shouted. “We have to get out of here! Follow me!” Jacosa spun her around by the shoulder and lurched back at the sight of the woman’s skin sizzling from the Wyvern’s poison.

  The woman stumbled forward and collapsed.

  Jacosa staggered back to her hut and fumbled inside the door for her spear. The village was mayhem. Her head throbbed from the deafening screams. She ran for the wilderness beyond, dodging bodies and Wyverns.

  Dozens more Wyverns circled overhead to rain poison on the fleeing villagers.

  Jacosa saw a clearing, a gap through the nightmares, and she tore forward with all the strength she could coax from her legs. Escape was just beyond her reach when she skidded to a halt. One scream penetrated the din of shrieks and wails. Sakina!

  Jacosa spun around frantically and searched the darkness for a sign of her friend. She saw movement in the shadows, two figures in the distance: Sakina standing against a giant Wyvern. Jacosa sprinted as hard as she could to Sakina.

  The Wyvern reared, jaws wide, and lunged for Sakina’s adorned head.

  With a flash, Sakina whipped out a dagger and thrust it deep into the Wyvern’s snout.

  The Wyvern roared in pain, but quickly recovered and advanced on Sakina with renewed fury. It took in a deep breath.

  Jacosa was out of time. She adjusted her spear in her hand. It was too far. She had never hit a target from this distance before, but she had no choice. With a desperate cry, Jacosa planted her feet and launched her spear towards the enormous, shadowy figure.

  Jacosa’s spear met its mark and impaled the Wyvern’s throat as it released its poison. Venom gushed from the wound, disintegrated the spear and dripped down its belly.

  Sakina gasped as the poison splattered her face, hands, and arms. Her skin sizzled and popped with excruciating pain.

  The Wyvern struggled for air as poison and blood drowned it. The Wyvern collapsed with a tremendous thud.

  Jacosa reached Sakina and knelt beside her.

  Sakina screamed as the poison dripped down her body and seared her flesh.

  Jacosa grabbed fists of dirt and covered her.

  She lost consciousness from the pain and her screams stopped. Slowly, the dust absorbed the venom and stopped it spreading. Sakina was taking slow, shallow breaths and beads of sweat were running down her face.

  “Sakina!” Jacosa shouted. “Sakina!” Jacosa dragged her behind a rock, out of sight of the Wyverns above. She had to get Sakina to safety. Jacosa left her behind the rock and ran back to the village.

  Jacosa ducked behind a shrub and peered into the wreckage of the Key Village.

  A handful of Wyverns scavenged what was left of the villagers. The rest searched for survivors from the sky.

  If there were any, Jacosa knew they would flee to the other villages. She searched the village outskirts and found what she came for. A few horses, ridden in by the Tusk Clan, tied up in a hidden grove. She snuck towards them, keeping to the shadows and out of sight. The horses snorted and pawed the ground at her approach. She urged them to be quiet while she untied them. Jacosa leaped on the back of the nearest horse and, leading a second behind her, hurried back the way she came.

  As they grew up, Jacosa and Sakina joined the Yetta on travels to the Southern Villages. The first time they visited the Tusk Clan was the first time Jacosa rode a horse. She was very thankful for the knowledge she gained that day.

  Jacosa reached Sakina’s hiding place and slid from her horse.

  Sakina was barely breathing.

  Jacosa had to get her help. The nearest of the Southern Villages was the Coastal Village to the south. Jacosa hoisted Sakina’s limp body onto the back of the second horse. The road would be rough, so she tore strips off Sakina’s dress and tied her in place. Jacosa mounted her horse, gripping its reins in o
ne hand and Sakina’s reigns in the other. Their only chance was straight to the coast. There would be no cover from the circling Wyverns. Jacosa pulled the memory of a voice that reached out to save a helpless child to the forefront of her mind. It filled her and gave her courage. She took a deep breath and charged forward at full gallop.

  At first, the only sound was the thunder of horse hooves and the rhythmic pounding in Jacosa’s chest. Then roars filled the night. The wind from beating wings taking chase rushed around her. Jets of venom whizzed past with such force that Terrene exploded wherever they struck. Fear gripped Jacosa’s heart, but she couldn’t stop. Venom streaked her side and pain shot through her. It took all her will to stay mounted and press on.

  The Wyverns were gaining on them.

  The horses grew tired and began to slow down.

  Moments later, the Wyverns soared over Jacosa’s head and turned to face them.

  The horses froze.

  Jacosa trembled before the Wyverns, suspended in the air by slowly beating wings. She was a child in the dark, afraid to see the monster’s horrible faces.

  Then, a familiar sound drifted through the chaos. A whisper she knew but hadn’t heard in a very long time.

  “Do not forget. I love you, and I’m right here.”

  The voice warmed Jacosa’s heart and disoriented the Wyverns. She felt safe. Despite the scene around her, she wasn’t afraid.

  Slowly, Jacosa raised her head with defiant hope. She dismounted, wincing from the pain in her side, and walked forward to face the Wyverns. She looked straight into their faces, narrowed her steely gaze, and waited.

  Small lights appeared in each hovering Wyvern. The lights danced and swirled like candle flames burning despite a cold, black night.

  The voice returned; this time booming with authority. “I am here!”

  The flickering lights detonated. The explosions ripped the Wyverns apart and shook Terrene.

  The horses reared in panic.

  The Wyverns fell from the dark sky and slid into a twisted, burning mass at Jacosa’s feet.

  Silence surrounded her. She released the air slowly from her lungs, head spinning, as she processed what just happened. “Who are you?” She shouted into the darkness. “Why me? Why do you keep saving me?”

  There was no response.

  Sakina groaned and Jacosa set her mind again to save her. “Thank you…” She whispered to the empty night. She scrambled back on her horse and galloped towards the coast.

  Jacosa fought to keep her eyes open as exhaustion set in. The horse beneath her lurched and she focused her gaze on the horizon. The pitch-black she rode through for so long was finally turning gray. She breathed in deep and welcomed the salty air. Before long, the morning light revealed the Coastal Village ahead. She could make out the shoreline and numerous docks housing large fishing boats. Many more dotted the water. Jacosa rode into town and was greeted by a kind old man.

  “Good morning young lady!” He said. “My goodness Dear, are you alright?”

  The emotional weight of all that happened hit Jacosa like a wave, and she struggled to answer through sobs. “The Key Village was attacked!” She choked. “Calamity found us! He sent Wyverns to the festival and my friend is hurt. She needs help!”

  The man took hold of Jacosa’s reigns. “Come with me. We’ll find the physician.” He led the horses to a nearby post and helped Jacosa down.

  Others noticed their arrival.

  The old man pointed at one of the young men watching. “Come help me. This girl needs the physician.”

  The two men lowered Sakina from her horse and carried her to a nearby shack. They walked in and laid Sakina on a table in the center of the room.

  The old man gasped. “Oh no, is that Sakina?”

  Jacosa nodded.

  “She used to come here with her parents. She’s in bad shape.”

  The young man ran out to find the doctor.

  The old man looked at Sakina’s scars. “I’ve never seen burns like these. What happened?”

  “The Wyverns spew some kind of venom.”

  “We have Fire Coral here in the shallows. The treatment may help Sakina.”

  Jacosa nodded. “Thank you for helping us.”

  “You’re welcome. My name is Gerou.”

  Jacosa shook the man’s outstretched hand. “I’m Jacosa.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you Jacosa.”

  The door burst open, and the young man rushed back in with who Jacosa assumed was the doctor.

  He wiped fish guts from his hands onto a dirty apron around his neck as he elbowed through to the table. He examined Sakina’s wounds with a blank face. Then he turned around, rummaged through a junk pile, and found a leaky bucket. He grunted and walked out.

  “That’s your physician?” Jacosa asked.

  “I know he doesn’t look like much,” Gerou replied, “but he knows what he’s doing.”

  The physician returned with seawater sloshing out of his bucket. He pushed his way back to the table and dumped the bucket over Sakina.

  Jacosa rushed forward. “What are you doing?!”

  Gerou grabbed her arm. “The water will clean her burns.”

  The physician left again and returned with armloads of dripping green algae.

  “The algae will insulate her wounds and keep them clean to increase the healing process.”

  When the physician was done laying strips of algae across Sakina’s seared skin, he walked over to Jacosa and noticed that she was in pain. “Your friend must rest, and you should let me look at your side.”

  “I’m fine. Just help her.”

  The doctor nodded. “You may wait with her here if you’d like. If she survives until tomorrow, she will likely make a full recovery. It is out of my hands now.”

  Gerou followed him out. “I will find you food and bedding.”

  All Jacosa could do was remain at Sakina’s side, stroke her wounded head and beg her to live. She thought back to when they were children. She would often wake up crying from the nightmares that plagued her. Sakina would crawl to her bed and stay until Jacosa fell back asleep. “You’ve always been there for me,” Jacosa whispered. “I will be here when you wake up.”

  Gerou returned with a bundle of provisions. He handed her some blankets, an apple, and a small, dried fish. “My wife and I live four doors down if you need anything at all.”

  A tear dripped from Jacosa’s eye. “Thank you for your kindness. We won’t forget it.”

  Gerou squeezed Jacosa’s hand and smiled. “I'll check on you later.”

  Jacosa sat by Sakina on a rickety stool and wondered who else, if anyone, survived the Wyvern attack. The thought pained her, but Sakina could be the leader of the Southern Villages right now. Jacosa sighed. The future was bleak. She didn’t know what they would do, or where they would go, but she knew she couldn’t face the uncertain future alone. They needed each other more than ever. Sakina had to live.

  Chapter Six

  Alistair’s Company

  Thwack! Alistair buried his sword deep into the wooden practice totem. He stood in a line of young warriors, training with various weapons, clothed in animal furs to keep out the cold winter. The winter was harsh in the forest.

  Many things changed since Alistair and his father arrived at the Forest Clan four years ago. The Shadow Lands stretched across much of Terrene. Skirmishes with dark beasts and Fallen were a regular occurrence. The Forest Clan militarized. Everyone old enough to bear arms was trained to use them.

  Alistair glanced to his left. Ahian and his twin sister Anujah stood beside him.

  Ahian fought with two light axes. He was smaller than most of the young men in the Forest Clan. He was intelligent and spent his days with books and his nights charting the stars. He had no taste for war, but dark times demanded it. His speed and precision made him a distinguished fighter.

  Ahian’s sister, Anujah fought with a bow. She was an expert tracker and could sneak almost anywhere undet
ected. She was so quick, that she could fire three arrows before the first met its target. Her enemies were often dead before they knew she was there.

  Alistair turned to his right where Serilda’s short swords flashed around her practice target.

  Serilda only took orders from those that earned her allegiance. She had shoulder-length, matted brown hair and wild, focused eyes. Beyond Serilda, was Alistair’s oldest friend, Wybert.

  Wybert was not the lanky, awkward kid Alistair met on his first day to the Clan. He inherited his father’s massive build and grew into his awkward height. He still followed Alistair everywhere, but stood six inches taller and a thick, red beard surrounded his silly grin. Wybert wielded a massive ax with a steel ax head. From the ground, it rose to his shoulders. Wybert swung his ax over his head and brought it down hard. The wooden practice totem in front of him split down the middle.

  The five friends had grown inseparable over the past years. Together they were a powerful force.

  Alistair, while not the strongest or fastest of them, was by far the most skilled and deadly fighter. His friends trusted and followed him. Alistair internalized the pain and anger of his mother’s death long ago. It was a part of him, and when he summoned it, no foe could stand against him. As soon as he recovered from his injuries four years ago, he poured himself into training. Every night he limped home, and every day he returned to train harder. He held the memory of his first kill close. He never forgot the surge of energy that came from slaying that wolf in the forest. He wanted more then, and he wanted more now. His hate drove him to be better; more deadly. The images of his pain that flashed in the wolf’s eyes that day flashed across the faces of every enemy since. Now his sword was an extension of himself, like his rage. He was a weapon. Alistair wondered if his friends would follow if they knew the darkness inside him. He never talked about his mother. He buried his pain and awaited the next fight. It was the only thing that held his fury at bay.