Darker Still - Chapter one of "Five Tribes"
Darker still
When Naomi’s eyes snapped open, the first thing she was aware of was the deep and throbbing pain that pulsated across her head and down her spine, numbing everything. As her senses began to return, the overwhelming stench of rotting flesh hit her like a wall, nearly driving away her tenuous consciousness. Slowly, the woman rose to her feet as the ringing in her ears slowly subsided. Everywhere she looked there was nothing but death. Nearly every warrior had fallen, the field was covered in twisted limbs and bloodied armor, the bodies crowding every inch of ground. A tear slipped down Naomi’s muddied cheek as she searched for even one survivor with slow and deliberate footsteps, trying her best to ignore the empty gazes of her comrades. “There’s someone over here!” A voice hissed from behind Naomi.Whipping around, Naomi drew her axe and took a readied stance, her gaze searching the fog that was rolling across the field from the east side. A tall black blob began to form into a figure until a man finally emerged from the fog. His garb was dark and concealing and his armor sparse, but upon closer inspection Naomi understood why.
He was a Villager. A dark one.
Black and red tendrils of ink curled around his face and neck and a bright blue strip of skin ran from his lower lip to his chin. Tightening her grip on her weapon, Naomi gritted her teeth together and pressed her heels into the soft ground as the man halted before her, blood dripping from his blade.
“I’m impressed you survived.” The man snarled, a smile twisting across his lips.
Naomi said nothing.
“You know,” he said as he inspected his blade, his demeanor relaxed. “If northern and southern Azriel didn’t spend so much time fighting each other they wouldn’t be so vulnerable to our attacks.”
“Let’s get this over with, witch.” Naomi growled.
The man’s grin fell. “So be it then.”
Without a word the man shed his cloak and charged at Naomi, his blade drawn.Letting out a scream of rage, Naomi matched the man’s pace and swung her axe at him, the blade just missing his skull. Falling back slightly, the man jabbed at Naomi before disappearing completely. Struggling to focus through the beating of her heart in her ears, Naomi froze for the smallest of seconds before spinning around to face the footsteps that appeared behind her, the man swiping at her torso. The fight continued on like this, the Villager disappearing and reappearing without rhyme or reason, the only give away to his location were the sounds he made the split second before he attacked. Naomi felt a surge of courage after her axe nicked the man’s shoulder, her movements steadily growing faster, but that hope of victory was swiftly crushed when at least ten more Villagers appeared. Thrusting her fist against the ground Naomi sent a wave of energy through the earth, sending dirt, corpses and Villagers flying. Yet still, no matter how many Villagers Naomi thwarted, more and more came pouring back until it was just too much. A knife managed to lodge itself in her side and another in her shoulder, the pure mass of bodies driving her to the the ground. Her vision began to grow dim and the blood-thirsty screams of the Villagers become mere whisperers.
“Enough!” A voice cried, cutting through the muffled cries.
Dizzy beyond belief, Naomi slowly managed to rise to her knees, her wet and matted hair sticking to her face as she struggled to lift her head above her shoulders.
A pair of steel boots slowly approached Naomi, their tread heavy.
“What is your name?” An oddly melodious voice asked.
Naomi resisted the urge to cry out in pain as she lifted her head further still until her eyes met the emerald green ones that stared down at her. The eyes sat nestled in a moderate brow with thick brows and a clean cut beardless face, long brown hair pulled back in braids. The man’s features all in all resembled that of a serpents.
“You’re going to kill me anyways, what’s the point in telling you?” Naomi said, her words thick and slurred.
Dropping to Naomi’s eye level, the snake-man grabbed a fistful of Naomi’s red hair and jerked her head backwards as he inspected her neck and the tattoo that sat there.
“You’re one of nothern Azriel’s main Seekers.” He mused thoughtfully, his piercing gaze tracing the branding. “Just what we need.” He said with a smile completely devoid of any warmth. “Put her with the other one.”
At the man’s command, four or five Villagers came and drug Naomi up off the ground and through the field, her boots scraping against the dead bodies that had half-sunk into the mud as she fought with what little strength she had left. Despite her efforts, Naomi was eventually brought to a locked wagon that sat with the rest of the Villager’s caravan. Unlocking the chain that wrapped around the latch, the Villager that held Naomi opened the door and threw Naomi inside, enclosing her in darkness as the door was slammed shut.
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