She Awakens Page 2

  The man cries out the most guttural, nasty cry I’ve ever heard break free from a human. The man, if you can even call him such a thing, since he doesn't appear to be human anymore, doubles his effort to crawl over to us. I stumble backwards, expecting James to be there, but I fall on my butt instead. The thing snatches onto my ankle and our eyes lock as he tries to pull my leg toward his gaping maw.

  Then, out of nowhere a machete is thrust down through the top of the man’s head, piercing all the way through to the ground. It slumps forward and stops moving. I break my eyes away from the man’s lifeless head and glance up to see James’s triumphant face looming over me.

  “What the hell was that?” I shout.

  James ignores me, pulling his machete out of the man’s head and before I realize what he’s doing, he brings his machete down in one big swing and chops the head clean off. Leaning down, he grabs the head up by its sandy matted hair.

  James glances down at me. “I’m not sure, but we need to get this back to the town elders. They’ll know what to do.” He turns around and walks off, leaving me to my thoughts.

  What was that man?

  His legs were almost falling off, how was he able to pull himself around like that?

  Wouldn't an injury like that have killed him?

  And even with such a mangled jaw, he tried to bite me. Why would he try to bite me?

  Quickly, I pry my ankle out of the now dead and decapitated man’s grasp, and I hop up off of the ground and chase after him as he heads back to our tree.

  We finally make it back to our huge tree and before James can do it—he’s holding the man’s head and I don’t even want to look at it—I move to untie the catch and hear a wet thump behind me. Before I know what’s happening, James has me turned around and pushed up hard against the trunk of our tree, the man’s head now gone from his hands.

  “What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.

  He stares deeply into my eyes and I see his eyes are determined. “We will figure this out, Attina. We’re going to be okay. I want a family and to live happily ever after. You are my family and my happily ever after.”

  Without warning, James’s lips crash hard on mine, shocking me. His mouth claims mine. He sucks and pulls at my lips, and the sensation puts me into a deep trance. I close my eyes as our lips explore each other’s. Then, all of a sudden he moves away.

  I'm left reeling as he finishes untying our catch, leaving me against the tree breathing heavily. That was more than just a stolen kiss. I shake myself out of my stupor and grab the bag with our day’s catch from James’ hand.

  “Come on, let’s hurry home,” I mutter as I leave him behind to grab the head. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other. How could he grab me that way? Like I belong to him? He knows I want to go on adventures but he’s planning to settle down with me? I’m not sure how I feel about all of this.

  Walking back to town, there is a tangible tension between us, which wasn’t there before the kiss. It’s not until we make it back to town does the tension between us lifts. The only reason the air clears between us though, is because at the town entrance we’re intercepted by Nathan, clad in his usual brown, hole ridden robes.

  Nathan is one of our town elders and a family friend of mine. Some days, Nathan meets us at the town entrance after hunting, purely to say hi and see how the hunt went, and today seems to be one of those days.

  He peers down at the head in James’s hand and quickly grabs him by the elbow and rushes him off into the town hall. Neither of them give me a second glance and leave before I have time to say a word to either of them. So with their dismissal, I take our catch to the town marketplace and make my way home.

  By the time I make it home, Father is gone. More than likely he was already inside the town hall when Nathan whisked James in there, so I am left to my own thoughts for the rest of the night. After a few hours by myself, I start to calm down after the events of today and am finally able to think of everything that has happened more rationally. To my surprise, the man we found in the forest today is not on the forefront of my mind.

  I can’t get our kiss out of my head. Maybe James just got caught up in the moment when he kissed me? That must be it. He said a bunch of mushy nonsense, became engrossed in what was going on, and got carried away. Raising my hand, I touch my lips and I realize I hope he doesn’t remember everything that happened between us this morning. But in all reality, why in Arealea wouldn't he remember something like that? But a girl can hope. I absolutely do not want things to be different. I like how things are between us and don’t want it to ever change. As the thought leaves my head, I feel my body relax, and think to myself I'm never going to get a good night's rest after everything that happened today. I close my eyes and drift to sleep.

  2

  Attina

  As my hand reaches to the next branch, the rough bark digs into my skin, and the pain grounds me. My boot grabs deep into the spiraling texture of the tree and the coffee-colored husk scrapes down my body against my usual bland clothing. Today, I wore my typical hunting clothes, soft gray wool pants, a T-shirt, and light coat to match. They might not be pretty, but they’re comfy and practical. I sit on one of the top tree branches glancing up and out at the beautiful landscape before me.

  From this high up, I can see all the way back to Daruk. The town itself is built right into a mass of pine trees. The original builders cleared away barely enough trees to build the few structures we needed. As the town slowly grew, only enough trees were felled as were absolutely necessary. All of the town’s structures were constructed lower than the surrounding trees and the pine needles of the trees were used to thatch all the roofs, which helped make our town semi camouflaged.

  From afar, the town could be mistaken for a low spot in the forest. A small road only big enough for a horse and cart runs right through the middle of town. Right inside the town entrance on one side is the town hall, on the other is our marketplace. At the marketplace, townspeople can sell the wares they grow or make. Small, scattered houses finish out the town. It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve ever known. It’s my home.

  Growing up in such a small town meant I grew up in a tight knit community. Only about fifty people reside there, but it’s slowly been growing year after year. When I was a child, there were less than half a dozen kids. Now, twice the number can be seen running around, playing throughout town. My hometown is the only inhabited town in a hard two-day ride, which means everyone I ever knew or wanted to know lived here.

  The town is surrounded by a dense, green forest. Grass and leaves coat the forest floor creating a soft bed, and the tree canopy intertwines so tightly in spots it blocks out the sunlight. This makes it a perfect spot for afternoon naps and childhood games. The forest became my playground growing up.

  Living in a tight knit community was great, but a town like mine—where everyone knew each other and where everyone was in someone else's business—was suffocating. So suffocating, that growing up I was rarely found in town. Most of my formative days were spent in the forest playing imaginary games, having magical adventures in far off places, or playing hide and seek with James. I’ve always loved my hometown, but I’ll forever yearn for something more.

  Growing up, I only had one real friend, James. Even though he was seven years older than me, we did everything together. We'd go on adventures and play in the woods like there wasn’t a care in the world.

  Exploring with him was some of the best times I can remember as a child. The first time we met was fourteen years ago, and it will be etched into my mind forever. I was about six-years-old, which would’ve made James thirteen at the time.

  A few months prior, he’d stumbled into our town half dead. The town took him in at once, but there was one problem—he wouldn’t talk. From the moment he showed up, not one word was uttered from his lips. The adults put his silence off as him being scared or shy. He was immediately adopted by a couple in town, wh
o couldn’t have children of their own.

  After a few weeks of fattening James up and making him feel safe, he still wouldn’t talk. His adoptive parents thought it would be best for him to socialize with the few children in town, and maybe it would bring him out of his shell.

  Once a week, a new child would visit James at his adoptive parent’s house. Child after child visited, but he showed no sign of change. They started out by introducing him to children his own age, but as the weeks passed, there was a smaller and smaller pool of children he hadn’t met. Everyone began giving up on him and started assuming the shock of what happened to him was utterly too much and he would stay a mute for life. Then came my turn.

  I remember being terrified to meet him. There hadn't been a new person in town in my entire life. What if he hated me? What if he was mean? What if he picked on me? None of the other kids really interacted with me, so would this one be different?

  I was the daughter of a town elder, so the other kids kept well away from me like I had a plague. I guess they thought I would tattle on them. I remember the knot of worry in my stomach as my father and I walked into James' house.

  When we walked in, he was sitting at the family table coloring. He was so fixated on coloring he didn't even notice when we entered the room. Father bent down behind me and pushed me forward,

  "Go say hi, Pumpkin."

  I was nervous, but I walked over to the table and sat down next to James anyway. I wasn’t sure if he knew I was there or not, but it wasn't until I said, "Hello, I'm Attina," that I got any sort of reaction. When he heard my voice, a glint flashed behind his eyes like something clicked inside his head. He immediately stopped coloring and lifted his eyes toward me.

  The look in his eyes was gloomy; detached and so dark it both haunted and scared me. But when our gazes locked and I smiled at him, my fear left me completely. I saw something in his stare change and his face brightened as he focused on me.

  His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in what I can only describe as a surprised expression. As he took me in his shoulders dropped and I could almost see his body physically relax. Then, his gaze traveled around the rest of the room, taking in his parents and my father. He didn't seem like he was surprised to see them in the room, but the sparkle in his eyes made me think this was the first time he was truly seeing them, or rather connecting with their presence.

  He peered back to me, handed me a crayon, and from then on we were inseparable. It was so easy back then. One crayon shared and we became friends, just like that, much easier than the way things are now. It took a couple of days of my father and me visiting, but he eventually opened up and started talking.

  The one drawback, however, was once I got him to start talking, he wouldn’t stop. Over the next few months James's adoptive parents found out he was from a native people, who had lived in the forest at the base of Shadow Mountain for centuries, living harmoniously with the Fae. The tribe kept to itself and cultivated their plot of land growing vegetables and grain, only hunting enough for everyone in the tribe to eat. The Fae let them live in peace for centuries. Then one day, the Fae stormed their tribe and gave their chief an ultimatum, subservience or death.

  Subservience meant handing over their children so the Fae could train them to become lifelong servants to the Fae. The chief of James’s tribe refused this “offer”, which insulted and angered the Fae, and it ended in all out war. I say war, but in actuality it wasn’t a war, it was a massacre.

  The native’s weapons were no match against the Fae’s strength, speed, and magic. Within minutes, the entire tribe was all but obliterated. James’s mother managed to run away with him before the Fae found them, but his mother was not one to run and hide. She was a tough, loving, tribal woman and would never let her loved ones suffer alone, so she fought to the death for her family.

  After finding a safe hiding spot for her son she told him to stay hidden until she came back— but she never returned.

  James found his way back to his tribe only to find everyone slaughtered, including his mother. Then he'd wandered for days searching for any sign of human life, struggling to survive, praying to the Gods to find help. Finally, by some miracle, he had stumbled half dead into our town, and salvation.

  James was the first person in town to interact with the Fae and live to tell the tale. An exuberant amount of questions were brought to him, even at such a young age. Were they monsters? Did they know about the outside world? Should we fear them? James couldn’t answer many of our elders' questions, but he was able to give a broad description of them.

  The Fae who came to his tribe were extremely human-like, except for their eyes and ears. Their eyes were bright colors not seen in humans––reds, yellows, and even purples. Their ears were strange and exaggeratedly pointed. Other than those distinguishing features, we wouldn’t be able to tell them apart from humans, unless they fought or used their magic.

  They fought with intensified strength and speed. Some of the Fae used their magical powers in the melee. Some could control fire or water, some even had the power to bore right into a man’s mind and make them their puppet. Being so young James told our elders he remembered the Fae being angry and out for blood.

  Throughout the years, James and I became best friends. I’m not sure what it was about me he took a liking to, but after our first meeting we became inseparable, and our big age difference led him to become a friend and a mentor.

  James remembered what he’d learned from living in a tribe. He taught me everything he knew, how to tell if plants were poisonous, and how to lay traps for small game. He was the first one to show me how to climb a tree and who was there when I fell out of a tree and cut my shin wide open.

  Ever the teacher, even when I fell out of that tree, he calmed my hysterical cries and showed me how his people sutured up deep wounds like mine. I would forever have a nasty scar to remind myself of the day, but I was able to walk home by myself without much pain.

  Once I’d mastered all those skills, he taught me how to shoot a bow, and it quickly became my passion. From the first moment James put a bow in my hands I felt something special, a connection to it, like the bow was an extension of my arms. Shooting an arrow became empowering to me. I soon moved on from shooting targets to shooting small game.

  I was a natural with the bow and moved up to bigger game, and eventually to birds. Shooting birds was the hardest because I learned I had to shoot them out of the air while they were on the move. The trick was you had to know where the bird would be before it got there, which took practice and experience. Learning how to shoot finally gave me a purpose. Between James teaching me his skills, and Father teaching me everything he knew over the years, I came to feel like a force to be reckoned with.

  Hunting with James became a daily ritual for me. Every single day I could count on him to be by my side rain or shine, but after we came across the Solis the other day, everything changed. The past few days I’ve had to hunt for our town all on my own while James worked on something with the town elders.

  I have always been perfectly capable of hunting on my own. In the back of my mind I had begun to realize, I was beginning to miss him. He keeps creeping through my mind during the day. I miss his smile and his presence more than I care to acknowledge. When did these feelings begin? I’ve perpetually brushed off each and every attempt he made to woo me over the years, but now I don’t know how I feel.

  The following day I wake to the same objects floating around my room but today it doesn’t scare me like it did the past couple days. I’m not sure why, but it doesn’t. I climb out of bed, and like the previous days, as soon as I’m fully awake, everything floating drops to the ground. Just like the previous mornings, I pick them up and set them back in their places before getting ready for the day.

  Today our entire town is to gather in the small hall. The elders want to tell everyone what happened to James and me in the forest and discuss what to do about it. My father is also one of the town eld
ers. He became an elder because he is one of the most trusted people in town and one of the original founders. Growing up, Father told me he built our house for Mother and me and the town soon developed around us.

  Over the years, he’d helped almost everyone somehow or another; whether it was helping to build their own house or helping to provide some much needed food to new residents, he’d consistently been there. So, when the town was big enough to need elders, he’d been an obvious choice. Unsurprisingly, my father had already left our house when I set out on my walk to the hall. But as soon as I walk out of our front door I hear my name shouted.

  “Attina!”

  I know this particular voice almost as well as I know my own. When I turn around, James is running down the road toward my small cottage. For as long as I can remember, he’s had an interest in becoming a town elder.

  He’s constantly shown his worth by providing meat throughout the years and volunteering to help anyone in town. James has even been helping the town elders with this upcoming meeting and I’m sure he’s learning what he can about the man we came across in the woods. With him being groomed to be a town elder, it means he’s been extremely busy getting things ready for this meeting, so the last time I saw him was a few days ago on our last hunt.

  This time, while I watch him run up to my cottage, I take a good look at him for the first time in what feels like a long time. Only yesterday, I thought of how James and I met, and now, while scrutinizing him like this, I can finally see the difference from the boy back then to the man walking towards me now.

  He’s seven years older than me, and he’s already turning into a man. Today, like every day, he’s wearing his hunting clothes. A shirt and pants he fashioned out of leather from goats over the years. He says they help his body move freely, and today I can definitely tell those leathers fit his body well. His muscles have started to become more toned and defined. He no longer has a little boy’s build to his body. Now he’s filled out in all the right places. His jaw is more defined, his long, dark hair, which reaches past his shoulders, is tied back in a ponytail. His big ears are poking out the sides of his head, but it’s his eyes that truly catch my attention. Those eyes of his stun me. I’ve always loved the color of them but now they’re piercing. Even though they are brown, they carry a variety of different hues. They seem almost iridescent. I shake myself back to the present and give him a whistle.