which
afforded her some camouflage when it was needed; essential for
hunting in the dusty, dead landscape. Her long brown hair was pulled
back and tied into a messy ponytail with a piece of old fabric that
she had scavenged from some scraps in the storage huts.
Most were not so lucky.
Many of the villagers wore simple cotton pants and shirts which were
torn and stained from years of wear. As a hunter, and a supplier of
food for the villagers, Aeva was rewarded with the tools and
clothing that she needed. Sometimes she felt guilty, until she
reminded herself of the dangers of her trade and that her safety was
important to them all.
----------
The
gates were open as she neared the village. Aeva knew immediately
that something was wrong. It wasn’t unheard of for the guards
to leave the gates open during the day. They did so to welcome the
travelling traders that moved from village to village bringing tools
and other goods to offer in return for anything that the elders
could spare. But now the sky was darkening, the gates should have
been closed. Aeva had expected to have to ring the bell and wait to
be allowed inside. She didn’t expect to see the entry wide
open for anybody to enter.
“ Eamott.”
She called out loudly and paused, waiting to hear her favourite
guard call back.
There was no reply, and
her heart began to pound loudly in her chest as she pulled her blade
from its strap and dropped her bag behind some boxes beside the
guards hut. Her instincts told her to be prepared and move carefully
as she entered the compound. She forced her feet forward, trying to
keep her movements as silent as possible.
There was nobody around.
No hustle of people preparing the evening meal, no fires lit in
preparation for the cold of the night that was quickly drawing in
and nobody chattering or singing as there usually would be as the
hunters returned home. The silence was unnerving as she slipped into
the space between the guard huts and into the main circle.
That is where she found
Eamott, who had cheerily wished her luck just a few hours before.
His body was now lifeless, bent backwards almost double over a stack
of firewood. His eyes were open in frozen terror, his silent lips
separated as though screaming silently.
Aeva gasped, a tear
springing to her eye. Eamott was as close to family as she had ever
remembered. She reached a hand to his face, pushing his eyes closed
with a gentle brush. He was gone; his clothes tattered and stained
with his own blood that was flowing from his neck. It looked as
though his throat had been ripped out by an animal, leaving damaged
muscle and tendon on display. Her stomach turned, forcing her to
turn away.
Bodies were littered
around the compound, each one with identical wounds. Each one
discarded like chicken bones at a feast. Everybody that she had
once loved, from children to elders, all destroyed by whatever or
whoever had been here. Bodies were thrown across tables and on the
ground, their bones twisted at awkward, broken angles. Pools of
fresh blood stained the straw and sawdust on the ground. It was
sprayed up the walls of the surrounding huts.
Death had been here.
Aeva’s senses where taken over by the smell, the sights and
the unnatural silence that hung in the air. Her village had been
cursed with its presence and now she was alone with it. She was
alone in the world.
She shielded her eyes
and used her inner compass to guide herself to her own hut, trying
to find a place away from the mangled corpses of her loved ones. She
felt sick to the stomach and needed to stop and think. She needed a
plan, and she knew that she needed one quickly.
----------
It
was clear that whatever had done this was from the outside. A rogue,
she was sure. There was no way to know how it had gained entry, but
she knew that the village was no longer safe. The sky was almost
dark and she knew that she shouldn’t stay here. The rogue
might return. She needed to be far from this place before
afforded her some camouflage when it was needed; essential for
hunting in the dusty, dead landscape. Her long brown hair was pulled
back and tied into a messy ponytail with a piece of old fabric that
she had scavenged from some scraps in the storage huts.
Most were not so lucky.
Many of the villagers wore simple cotton pants and shirts which were
torn and stained from years of wear. As a hunter, and a supplier of
food for the villagers, Aeva was rewarded with the tools and
clothing that she needed. Sometimes she felt guilty, until she
reminded herself of the dangers of her trade and that her safety was
important to them all.
----------
The
gates were open as she neared the village. Aeva knew immediately
that something was wrong. It wasn’t unheard of for the guards
to leave the gates open during the day. They did so to welcome the
travelling traders that moved from village to village bringing tools
and other goods to offer in return for anything that the elders
could spare. But now the sky was darkening, the gates should have
been closed. Aeva had expected to have to ring the bell and wait to
be allowed inside. She didn’t expect to see the entry wide
open for anybody to enter.
“ Eamott.”
She called out loudly and paused, waiting to hear her favourite
guard call back.
There was no reply, and
her heart began to pound loudly in her chest as she pulled her blade
from its strap and dropped her bag behind some boxes beside the
guards hut. Her instincts told her to be prepared and move carefully
as she entered the compound. She forced her feet forward, trying to
keep her movements as silent as possible.
There was nobody around.
No hustle of people preparing the evening meal, no fires lit in
preparation for the cold of the night that was quickly drawing in
and nobody chattering or singing as there usually would be as the
hunters returned home. The silence was unnerving as she slipped into
the space between the guard huts and into the main circle.
That is where she found
Eamott, who had cheerily wished her luck just a few hours before.
His body was now lifeless, bent backwards almost double over a stack
of firewood. His eyes were open in frozen terror, his silent lips
separated as though screaming silently.
Aeva gasped, a tear
springing to her eye. Eamott was as close to family as she had ever
remembered. She reached a hand to his face, pushing his eyes closed
with a gentle brush. He was gone; his clothes tattered and stained
with his own blood that was flowing from his neck. It looked as
though his throat had been ripped out by an animal, leaving damaged
muscle and tendon on display. Her stomach turned, forcing her to
turn away.
Bodies were littered
around the compound, each one with identical wounds. Each one
discarded like chicken bones at a feast. Everybody that she had
once loved, from children to elders, all destroyed by whatever or
whoever had been here. Bodies were thrown across tables and on the
ground, their bones twisted at awkward, broken angles. Pools of
fresh blood stained the straw and sawdust on the ground. It was
sprayed up the walls of the surrounding huts.
Death had been here.
Aeva’s senses where taken over by the smell, the sights and
the unnatural silence that hung in the air. Her village had been
cursed with its presence and now she was alone with it. She was
alone in the world.
She shielded her eyes
and used her inner compass to guide herself to her own hut, trying
to find a place away from the mangled corpses of her loved ones. She
felt sick to the stomach and needed to stop and think. She needed a
plan, and she knew that she needed one quickly.
----------
It
was clear that whatever had done this was from the outside. A rogue,
she was sure. There was no way to know how it had gained entry, but
she knew that the village was no longer safe. The sky was almost
dark and she knew that she shouldn’t stay here. The rogue
might return. She needed to be far from this place before
Similar Books
