The blistering weather that penetrated into the forests was always a terrible combination, especially at this time of year. The mixture of cockroaches, sweat and ivy didn’t make the scouting any easier. Vishar pulled down a branch, avoiding the unwarranted cuts he’d best like to avoid. Bumping into them would lead to a few curses being thrown and having to deal with running blood, the two things that the young man detested either doing or seeing.

“There they are.”

Lowering the scope Bhagat had apparently taken from the westerner, Vishar pointed towards the heart of darkness that housed the most dense section of the forest. “I saw movements over there. It has to be them.”

“What if it’s a pride of lions?” asked the young scout beside him. Jaav was a middle-aged fellow who’d been Vishar’s only real-friend and trusted comrade. He had been picked out alongside Vishar for this assignment.

“It isn’t, leaves don’t rustle like that if it were a pack. And sides, lions aren’t that careless. Not the Lohaani ones.”

“Truly?” The scout turned his eyes towards the direction. “Well, it makes sense. The densest section of the forest is the easiest place to hide from enemy scouts. We’d need to probe deeper, but that’s also how they could trap us.”

“Exactly,” answered Vishar. “I’ll go report this to Lord Gahkhar. You stay put and trace their movements. After you’re done, return before dusk. Understood?”

Jaav nodded.

“Good.” Vishar mounted his horse and grabbed at the harness. “Stay safe brot—

A shriek rang behind them.

Vishar pulled his dagger and turned, glancing upwards towards it’s source.

A crow.

Vishar breathed a sigh of relief, placing the dagger back into it’s sheath. “It’s just a bloody crow.”

“Vishar…” Jaav didn’t look all too pleased. He glanced at the crow, pointing with a shaking finger. “Don’t you… think that… the crow’s an Afraari one?”

“An Afraari crow?” Vishar glanced at the crow again, watching as it twisted and turned and gawked another cry.

“Jaav, we need to go.”

“Underst—

An arrow flung past his head, unsettling their horses.

“We need to go!” shouted Vishar, watching as dark figures approached them. “Come Jaav!”

Jaav dropped his spear and clung to his horse. “Go!”

With a pull on the harness, the horses neighed and dashed. Together they traversed though the twigs and branches, turning and dodging any tree that stopped them.

Vishar turned.

Three figures were onto them.

“It’s the Afraaris alright,” whispered Vishar. He turned to Jaav’s side. “Let’s split paths.”

Jaav nodded, tugging at the harness and splitting from Vishar. “I’ll see you on the other side then!”

Another arrow flung past them. Vishar turned, hearing the crows shrieks split from the men behind.

It seemed only one of the three was tagging him.

Alright. Vishar dodged a tree.

Another arrow flung past him.

Damn. I’ll need to try something else if I want to get rid of him. Vishar clicked his tongue, thinking up a plan.

Vishar turned 90 degrees and continued his gallop.

“Ah!”

Vishar glanced at his arm. An arrow had pierced him.

Damnit!

The pain was searing, radiating through his skin.

Haraan arrows, huh? It was the only explanation for the ringing pain. I need to end this quickly!

He looked around, noticing a shrub large enough to cover him.

He tugged at the harness. “Go!”

The horse dashed forwards.

An arrow brushed his hair.

Vishar’s heart jumped. That was close…

“You cannot hide from me you Lohaani dog!” shouted the man in his pronounced language. “I will kill you! Even if you hide in that bush!”

“Hiya!”

The horse leapt as high as it could, jumping into the shrubs.

He pulled out his dagger and hushed his horse to a standstill.

Come on… The pain was getting worse. Vishar flipped the dagger around and recoiled his arm back.

The Afraari leapt, his bow already knocked.

Vishar threw his dagger.

The Afraari shot his arrow.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Vishar pulled his injured arm in front of him.

“Ah!” shrieked both.

Vishar fell off. Now two arrows were lodged in his left arm and the pain was infinitely worse.

Damnit.

The enemy’s horse dashed past him.

Vishar raised his gaze.

The Afraari was dead, his dagger lodged into the man’s head.

It hurts... Vishar stuffed his mouth with spare cloth and tugged at one of the arrows. Tears leapt out his eyes and the pain engulfed his body, finally freeing him after a muffled shriek rang from his throat. To take it’s place, blood seeped from the wound. He quickly pulled out a spare cloth, tore it and wrapped it around the first wound. “It hurts…. so much…”

Vishar did it a second time and noticed something interesting. He didn’t feel the same pain he felt the first time.

Odd. Vishar got back up. I should ask Bhagat about tha—

Screams rang out near him.

“Jaav!”

He whistled for his horse and mounted it. With a whip it lunged forward into a mad dash.

The screams rang again, this time much more forceful but distant from where it had first rung.

He tugged at the harness, slowing the gallop down. Turning his gaze, he examined the dark area around him.

A beam of sunlight ripped through the leaves above.

O Lakhjmi...

Blood painted the shrubs, twigs and grass below.

More shrieks came from Vishar’s right.

Who’s over the—

“Vishar! Help me!”

“Jaav!” He lashed at the harness and the horse galloped. As he strode the ripples of light grew more frequent, revealing printed blood hands on the lower ends of the tree trunks. Exactly what had happened?

“Jaav!”

“Over… here!”

Vishar turned his attention towards the source of the voice and froze, feeling a sudden coldness take root that replaced the heat around him. “Jaav?” He took a few steps back, eyes widening to get a full view of the mess in front of him.

Covered from his head to toe, Jaav looked as if his skin had been removed. There were even pieces of ears laying freely on the ground.

The crow that had followed them for this long again shrieked.

The sight was far more chilling than what Vishar was used to. He turned and vomited the contents of his early morning meal.

“Help me,” asked Jaav, his voice wandering.

“You’re dead Jaav. There’s no way I can help you.”

A silence crept between the two. The sunlight scurried off as another darkness crept into the forest.

Jaav coughed. “Of course I’m bloody fine!” he yelled. “What? You thought those were my ears?”

Vishar jumped back. “What the hell?” His jaw dropped. “You’re okay?”

“Yes! Though all this blood really is inconvenient.”

Vishar extended his arm.

“Well, if I had died my family would at least get something.” Jaav groaned, accepting the help. “My ribs hurt, those bastards managed to hit me with an arrow.”

“But then how…” Vishar turned from the sight. “How did you do all this. You were never a fighter.”

Jaav spat out saliva mixed with blood. “Vishar. I don’t know what the hell happened but I do know one thing.”

Vishar met his bloodied face.

“The lions of the forest… they can tell between friend and foe.”

----------------------------------------

The streets of Gahkhpur seemed to be in a mad panic. Dozens of carriages flowed into the former Afraari warrior quarters and to the grain stores just inside the Gahkhar residence. The people, a vast swarm of tiny dots, moved like an erratic wave overwhelmed by a stressor. That stressor? News of an impending Afraari invasion.

“Give me a complete run-down of the situation in the city.”

“Yes My Lord!” shouted Aaklav, Vishar’s recently appointed apprentice. “The peasants from everywhere near the Afraari border to the South have been evacuated with haste, only one more village remains.”

“That’s cool and all, but what of the food?”

“The grain?” asked Aaklav. “Well… two of the villages didn’t harvest the wheat. The rest have, but it’s not that bad of a situation My Lord. After all, there’s still enough wheat for a good four months.”

“What?” Bhagat raised a brow. “Four months? Truly?”

Aaklav shrugged. “That’s what I’ve calculated sir. The east tends to produce a large amount of crop because the soil is —for the most part— better, though the center arguably produces the most since all the land is of great quality and the rivers run through it.”

“If you say so…” Bhagat sat back down on his chair. Now wasn’t the time to discuss agriculture, of course. “Have there been any religious incidents?”

Aaklav shook his head. “I’m surprised actually. It took a few days but the heavy security presence and the confidence-building measures you proposed seemed to have allayed fears.”

“And the threat of the warriors losing their benefits might have also played a —well— let’s say a tiny role?” added Bhagat, shuffling the files on his desk for the documents he had forged. “Ah, there they are.”

“Well, if you put it that way My Lo—

The knob on the door clicked and Meethi entered, wearing the same uniform he had worn close to a month ago.

“My Lord.”

Bhagat nodded, getting up from his seat. “Here are the documents Meethi.” He stretched his arm out. “Are you sure those clothes aren’t uncomfortable on you?”

“No no My Lord, they are just fine. And sides, they are meant as ceremony.”

Bhagat frowned. “Are you sure?”

Meethi gave an awkward smile. “It’s fine My Lord. Besides, they’re the only size available —the tailor is still designing the new set.”

“I see…” Bhagat pat his shoulder. “Make haste immediately. The Afraaris might have already crossed into the forest.”

Meethi nodded. “Yes My Lord.” His feet made great noise as he retreated for the door.

“Oh and one more thing.”

Meethi turned his head. “Yes?”

“Be stupid.”

Meethi nodded. “I won’t disappoint.”

“Um… My lord,” asked Aaklav, making sure Meethi left the room before making his comment. “Why should he be looking stupid in front of another man of paralleled status as yourself? Wouldn’t that…”

“Make me look weak and a fool?”

Aaklav gulped.

“Look Aaklav, I’m a down-to-Earth kind of guy so feel free to speak your mind.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Forget these formalities and don’t hold back.”

Aaklav made a crooked smile. “Y-yes sir.”

“To answer your question: yes,” admitted Bhagat. “But it’s a bluff.”

Aaklav squinted his eyes and furrowed his brows, trying to comprehend Bhagat’s meaning. “A bluff?”

“You’ll know when Meethi returns.”

“Oh… okay…” mumbled Aaklav, scratching his head.

Bhagat returned to watching the scenery below, the scorching sun blasting Bhagat with it’s photons. The plan was in motion now —it couldn’t be stopped and neither should it— not unless he wanted to die at the hands of the Afraaris. “How are the new weapons? Have they been tested?”

“Oh! Yes My Lord, that object is very good!” At this Aaklav’s enthusiastic voice returned. “Though we don’t have enough… material.”

And back to a depressed tone.

Bhagat waved his hand. “Don’t worry, the craftsmen are going to make them now since they’ve completed the rest of their tasks.”

“I see… though I have a concern.”

Bhagat turned. “And what concern is this?”

“The craftsmen don’t have a good cover to make their inventions. Could this not lead to our secrets being stolen?”

“Ah, that. Yeah, it’s possible and I’ve already made plans to move them into the interior with their families, there is a large amount of space here after all. We’ll just construct a few new walls to separate them and their workshops.”

Aaklav nodded. “I se—

A knock came from the door again.

“Come in.”

A guardsman entered the room, his shoulders tight.

“What’s wrong warrior?”

“My Lord, Vishar reports that the Afraaris have crossed the river and are in the forest south of us.”

“I see… understood, you may leave.”

“Yes My Lord.”

Bhagat sat back down on his chair. The Afraaris were coming far more quickly than what he had originally anticipated, though that only made his plan’s chance of success more likely. He placed a fist on his cheek, contemplating what he had to do next. Since Meethi was now off, he’d need to take over and drill the new recruits.

“My lord?” asked Aaklav, concern lining his words.

Bhagat snapped from his thoughts. “Yes?”

Aaklav pointed. “Your hand, My Lord.”

“My hand? Oh shit.”

His hand shook uncontrollably —far more than usual. He placed his other hand on top, attempting to rein it in. “Thanks.”

I hope it all comes together. He gave himself a few deep breaths, trying to calm his erratic nerves. Because if it doesn’t, then we’ll all end up dead and there will be no one left to place our ashes into urns…. and besides. He glanced outside, watching as the wind threw the leaves into the sky. I have to get grandfather back.