Ayuen
Granstead, Enitul
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/876104022833127448/1130179968161304648/wolf-g76a580d54_640.jpg]
By Mohamed Hassan, Pixabay Licence
Ayuen recalled Hyra’s icy voice during her escape as the first buildings of Granstead crept into view. The mental image of her past friend raiding her house with the guards, with her mother trying her best to stall her for as long as possible. Whatever happened after, she didn’t know.
Mother… Father… She feared the worst. Hyra had been friendly with her parents in the past. In their childhood, Hyra would often come and play at their house. They got along pretty well. Well, until the incident. The poet felt a shiver across her back as the memory resurfaced. The destruction, the rubble, the shocked face of Hyra beside her. She didn’t want to think about that. Not now, not now everything was looking up for her and her companions.
Her sudden change in mood didn’t go unnoticed. With Ayuen still in thought, she felt a rough but strong hand on her upper arm. She looked up to see Rove frowning at her with a worried glance, raising his eyebrow in silent question.
The poet smiled at him, nodding ever so slightly. “Don’t worry Rove, it’s alright. Just some stray memories.” She sighed. “And some worries deciding to grace me with a visit now that our goal is in sight.”
It was a poor answer, she knew that. But he didn’t want to burden her lover with this. Not yet. To his credit, Rove merely looked at her for a moment longer, staring into her eyes as if he was trying to read her mind somehow. Then, after giving her arm a little pinch, he nodded to her silently. The warrior focussed his attention in front of them again. That little sign of trust did much to alleviate Ayuen’s sudden shift in mood, making her feel warm inside. Her wings rustled, the membrane pressing against Rove’s back. A comfortable feeling during their walk.
It wasn’t long before they entered the town. Ayuen had heard that Granstead was a decently sized trading settlement, not only for the Grasping Isle but also for other vessels heading towards and from Enitul. As such, she expected the streets to be bustling.
And as the group walked into the first street, they all fell silent. They had expected merchants.
What they found was silence.
The streets were abandoned, only the creaking of wood and rushing of the waves reaching her sharp ears. Not even guards were visible. There was something wrong here. Very wrong. The others felt it too, Rove silently sliding Stormgrinder out of its sheath and taking point. Quietly, he motioned for them to follow.
Ayuen took Floryshia in her hands, slipping in a regular bullet. The clicks and whirls of the firearm were almost deafening in the silence, her heart pounding in her ears. Their footfalls seem to pound on the dirt as Rove reached the first home. A barber. His hand slowly reached for the coarse oaken door, pressing down on the handle.
Ayuen could hear a muffled whimper coming from the inside, the door not yielding to Rove’s demand. She tapped her lover on the shoulder to get his attention.
“Somebody’s inside, but they sound terrified.”
Her brows were knitted in worry as her ears rotated. Something had these folks scared to death. But what?
The Herhor seized his attempts to open the door, beckoning them all closer.
“Okay, listen up,” He said. “I got no clue what had happened here, but these folks are deathly afraid of something. And that something is bad enough to even give the guards an apparent run for their money. Either that or somebody bribed them. I don’t know which option should worry me more.”
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“Sneak saw eyes comin’ from them windows.” The madman said. “A lot of eyes. Forty-six of ‘em. Many eyes, many people, much fear.”
“A bandit raid would be noisier than this.” Trïeste chipped in. “It has to be something else. There aren’t many things that would frighten a whole town though. But this is not our fight, right? We just have to get the blazes out of here.”
“If whoever orchestrated this lets us,” Ayuen remarked dryly. Of course, they would run into trouble first thing after making landfall. What surprised her were the lengths their foes would go to to thwart them. Sabotaging an entire village to stop them? That was insane.
It was then that she heard it. Ayuen’s ears twitched, the Pyrn rotating them slightly to catch the sound better. Deeper into the village, she heard a slight crackle, reminding her of distant thunder.
Raising a finger to her lips, she let the others know. They looked at her, looked at each other, and then nodded. Pointing in the direction the sound was coming from, Rove’s face got grim.
“We’re going around. I feel bad for these people, whatever is causing havoc. But we can’t risk it.”
Sticking close to the walls, the four of them crept into an alleyway after alleyway, sticking to the shadows as they made their way towards the eastern edge of town. Ayuen’s ears were constantly on the move, turning and twisting in a bid to catch even the slightest sound.
Hiding in the shadows, she could see Rove peering beyond a corner, nodding slowly. Then she heard a creak coming from above, followed by the sound of string tensing.
“Rove!” She called out, recognizing the sound all too well. An arrow whizzed downwards just as the Herhor dodged to the back. But to her surprise, the arrow missed by a large margin, flying towards the building they were huddled at. A loud clang echoed through the streets as it struck something metallic, the sound of running footsteps disappearing deeper into the building.
For a moment, Granstead was quiet. But then a deep rumbling grown rolled towards them from the centre of the town, making the fur on her neck stand on end. The crackling sound returned as well, swelling in intensity as it sparked. The others heard it too, Ayuen seeing their faces fall and skin pale.
They had to move fast. Whatever it was, it had now been alerted to their presence and was closing in. Running towards another alley, Ayuen barely made it in when the thunderous pace of a massive beast pounded the streets behind her. She dove behind a couple of crates, the others taking similar spots around her.
For a few moments, she didn’t dare move or peek. She could hear the heavy footfalls come to a stop, the deep rumble of an animalistic growl tearing through the air. The air seemed to grow static with energy, Ayuen saw strands of her hair starting to stand upright. A spark of knowledge wormed its way to the forefront of her mind. A hunch.
Curiosity temporarily got the better of her, the Pyrn poet inching her face towards the top of the crate, quickly glancing over it.
What she saw confirmed her fears.
Standing as tall as a horse, the beast had raised its head high, nostrils wide in a bid to catch the scent of the poor fools that got its attention. It looked like an amalgamation between a lion and a wolf, bearing giant claws, a huge muzzle and rippling muscle.
Its neck was covered by a majestic silver mane of sorts, fanning out and crackling with static energy. Arcs of electricity arced between its fangs, saliva dripping from the muzzle onto the packed earth below.
She almost whispered when she realized what the beast was, quickly hiding behind the crates again. An apex predator from the vast forest of Darthal, a magical creature adapted to use the static electricity generated by its manes to deliver devastating bites. A beast that shouldn’t be anywhere near here.
A Lararhn.
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Ayuen had only seen a Lararhn once when a rider from a faraway nation had visited Marlight. They had ridden on a Lararhn, the beast having been rather friendly towards the people around it. The rider had demonstrated the animal’s capabilities though, its jaws able to tear through flesh and bone as if it were paper, scorching the flesh black with blistering energy in the process.
It had been scary then. That fear now coursed through her veins, intensified tenfold.
This wasn’t a mount or a tamed individual. This was a hunter. And they were the prey.
Her hand clutched Floryshia, cursing mentally that she didn’t load any of the strange bullets.
Slowly turning her head, she spotted Rove looking at her, his face serious and blank. Ayuen gestured towards him, making a cutting motion in front of her throat. Deadly.
He nodded, getting the hint. She could see his grip tighten around his blade. He began gesturing to Trïeste, patting his pouch and making a ball of his hands together with a throwing motion.
The alchemist caught on quickly, taking out a familiar cloth ball. A blinding grenade.
Before they caught spring into action though, a loud howl thundered through the air. The Lararhn had turned towards their hiding place, sinking into a predatory crouch and creeping forward.
The hunt was on.
[https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/926707024362885130/1045841100604186624/Ayuen-WayX.png]
Ayuen art by Ina Koffen, @Ina_Koffen on Twitter