The Burning Sword (8 page)

When everyone had arrived, she beckoned her generals and sub-generals over, quickly explaining what she had seen. She suggested that she and two others should go out to investigate.

Sibyl offered immediately with Eli suggesting that it would be best for him to come anyway, as he knew the land better than anyone else.

Quickly telling Martha and her sub-generals to explain to the rest of the army, as there wasn’t any time to lose, the three of them raced back down the tunnel, Eli crawling through the hole, followed by Sibyl, and last of all Faith , who looked back through the tunnel with a frown, and prayed that she was doing the right thing.

Everything was deathly quiet. It was a hardship on Faith to pay attention to anything independent of the loud noise of her heartbeat drumming in their ears.

Eli and Sibyl trod cautiously looking at her, looking back at her over their shoulders with worried expressions. The 3 of these held out their weapons before them, expecting opposition at anytime.

Trying to allow them to have relief for a time, she smiled confidently, though inside she felt like she was restraining a scream. There was something wrong with the atmosphere, all of it felt too quiet and...other-worldly.

They continued going, Eli in the lead. Faith looked behind for example second. The entrance they'd come from had almost disappeared, camouflaged in to a thick forest of trees that have been lining the bottom of the mountain.

Her mountain was unrecognizable from this point. It seemed far huger, far more intimidating. It almost scared her, and the unfamiliarity frightened her more than this.

Shuddering, she looked back round at Eli and Sibyl, who were moving forward.

“Shouldn’t there be people around here?” Faith asked, in a whisper.

“You’d think th-” Sibyl began, but Eli suddenly put one hand up, silently ordering the two girls to stop. Then, before Faith had even
realized what was happening, Eli had roughly pushed Sibyl into some nearby shrubbery, and rugby tackled her round her waist into a nearby spot.

For a moment, she panicked wildly; terrified that Eli was a traitor after all. But then she heard the footsteps.

They were lying in some deep shrubbery, Eli’s arms still around her waist, pinning her down. She could see Sibyl’s feet nearby, curled up to her body. Their breathing, and the footsteps, were all that could be heard.

It sounded like there was more than one person there. Faith lay as still as she could, painfully aware of every muscle in her body, every slight whisper of a noise that her body was making.

Then the footsteps died away, and Faith let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Eli’s arms loosened around her waist as he cautiously sat up. Faith realized with a flush of embarrassment that she’d actually been laying on top of him.

“Okay,” he said in a low whisper. “I think it’s safe.”

“Are you sure?” asked Faith timidly. She felt suddenly very vulnerable, and wasn’t sure she wanted to ever leave this shrubbery bush.

“Well, as sure as I can be,” he replied. “I don’t like any this, Faith . It’s all a bit… strange.”

As he said this, Faith was suddenly reminded of his expression when he’d said ‘they’re not like you or I,’ and she wondered again just how much Eli was telling her.   

The three of them got up, gingerly stepping into the space that the mysterious owners of the footsteps had previously occupied.  Starting to walk, Faith felt her heartbeat quicken as they moved towards the place where the footprints had come from. There were trees in front of them, and Eli halted as they came near.

“This is where the villagers live,” he explained, his face pale. “Wait here.”

There was somehow no arguing with Eli when he spoke in that tone of voice, so Sibyl and Faith waited. Eli vanished into the woods, disappearing before their eyes. Faith turned to look at Sibyl, and found that the girl was white faced and shaking, her eyes wide.

“Are you alright?” Faith asked, putting her arm around her anxiously.

Sibyl bit her lip. “Y-yes,” she mumbled. “Well, no. It’s just- this is it. What if… what if Will’s dead?”

Faith pulled Sibyl closer, hugging her tightly. In all the time since she’d seen her brothers, she’d almost forgotten that Sibyl was betrothed.

Now she thought about it, this was it. She just prayed that they would all be okay, that there was some reason for the group waiting back in the caves to have hope.

Before she could make a reply, Eli tore out of the forest, racing across the ground without seeming to care about the great racket he was making. For a second, Faith wondered if he’d lost his mind, but then she heard the noise behind him, and started running too, pulling the still shaking Sibyl behind her.

They were chasing them.

Faith didn’t get a chance for a proper look, before she’d raced back to the cave, trying desperately to find the entrance to get back in. The squatters were behind them, moving with inhuman speed, and she was panicking.

Then, her sub-generals and Martha suddenly appeared, followed by the rest of her army, pouring out of the entrance.

Confused, panicking, and completely at a loss as to what to do, Faith screamed

‘ATTACK!’ at the top of her lungs, and drew the burning sword.

Around her, the army did the same, pulling out their weapons, forming into their groups.

Eli looked at her, his eyes full of terror, and then they charged.

It was all horribly different from the practices they’d done, Faith
realized, as soon as the first jarring clang of metal sounded in her ears as someone wielded their weapon against her. The intense look of anger on the face of her opponent chilled her, and she was so frightened for her life that she barely noticed when the sword thrust through the man’s chest, and she found herself having killed someone.

The realization barely had time to hit home before another was upon her, and she was shocked to find that he looked just as normal as anyone she might have known in the village, now that she looked properly. The squatter wore a tunic similar to the ones that they wore on the mountain, but his hair tumbled down his back unlike the closely cropped hairstyles worn by those she knew on the mountain. But the fierce expression on his face made her bones feel like jelly, and she trembled; yet the sword stayed steady, saving her, keeping her alive, keeping her from being slaughtered.

But it was killing the squatters.

All around her, people were engaged in combat. Faith dared to glance to the side once, and glimpsed the death of one of her army members. She went on, her face streaming with tears, the sword weaving its way through the people, showering sparks down upon them.

This was real.

She suddenly felt painfully foolish for dragging people here. What had she been thinking? She supposed that there were more deaths than the one she had witnessed.

And it was her fault.

She felt selfish for having the sword, and tried to pass it to Martha, who was standing next to her, desperately fighting, but she wouldn’t take it. The chaos around them sent panic coursing through Faith ’s body, and it was a good job that the sword seemed to know what it was doing, or she would have been skewered by a squatter sword.

Reaching out, Faith let the sword tip touch Martha’s homemade weapon. She couldn’t have said why she did it, but she did it nonetheless.

With an explosion of sparks, Martha’s weapon began to emit sparks itself. She stared for a second, then her eyes widened as it began to twist through the air, driving itself with force through the body of the squatter fighting her.

Without pausing to say anything, Faith raced through the battlefield, touching her sword to every weapon belonging to her army that she could. It didn’t seem to have worked on the squatter weapons, which puzzled Faith , but she let the sword do its work.

Faith turned to find a squatter before her, sword raised. She did a double take. Her heart leapt for joy inside her chest.

“Tom!” she called, recognizing her brother. “Tom! Tom what are you-”

Before Faith could hug her brother, Tom raised his sword, and brought it down upon his sister. The sword rose up to meet it, leaving Faith wide eyed with horror.

“Tom, it’s me. Faith? Your sister?” Her heart seemed to be breaking in her chest, as her mind filled with a hundred different explanations for this situation. She held back the sword from driving through her brother’s body, stepping away, as far away from this horrific sight as she could.

No emotion was registering on any of the squatter’s faces. They all fought with stiff movements, cold, emotionless motions. There was something very, very wrong.

Someone grabbed her around the waist, pulling her along. Twisting in terror, she turned to see Eli, and though she immediately relaxed, she could not help the terrified feeling that perhaps Eli wasn’t on their side.

When they reached the edge of the woods, Eli let go of her, and turned her to face him.

“Faith , did you know some of those warriors?” he asked urgently.

“Well, yes,” Faith replied, a painful lump in her throat making her feel like bursting into tears. “One of them was my brother.”

Eli sank down onto the floor, his head in his hands.

“What?” Faith asked, her impatience getting the better of her tact. “There are people dying over there, Eli, we don’t have time to have pleasant conversation.”

“Faith , I have to tell you something.”

“Is it important?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll be quick, we can’t leave them to do this alone.” Faith felt as if she was trembling very violently, and hoped that Eli didn’t notice.

With a deep breath, Eli pulled her down to sit next to him, and began his tale.

The End

Emily Williams

Emily Williams
was born and raised in Cincinnati, Ohio. Being inspired by her grandmother, she has been writing articles and short stories since childhood. Emily studied Creative Writing in college, and has written a number of books, both fiction and non-fiction. During her trip to Greece, Emily decided to write something different. The Burning Sword is her first fantasy novel.