Lisle swung her legs off a ledge of grey rock where she sat at the mouth of the tunnel leading into Guardian Mountain. She stared out at aqua blue sky stretching out over the tops of pine and scrub brush dotting the mountainside. It was an inspiring view, but Lisle felt anything but inspired. She hadn’t wanted to stay out on the mountainside after meeting Tim and thinking about that Guardian. It left her with a distinctly uneasy feeling in her stomach.  Yet she wasn’t ready to face anyone else. Her emotions were still raw from Gareth’s angry rejection of her and her fears for him.

Her thoughts slipped back to that meeting on the mountainside. The boy seemed nice enough, but that dark Guardian was out there. Somewhere close enough that Tim came walking up the side of the mountain. She searched the sky before her looking for black wings against the blue, but saw nothing. She was not reassured. Could Tim be that Guardian’s Contracted? If that was true, what did it say about Tim? She hadn’t felt any malice from him, just the opposite. But how could she really know? She couldn’t, but she did know someone who might. Lisle leapt down lightly and traced her way back into the mountain to find her own Guardian.

Coming up the hallway she saw a slowly moving figure at the far end. Getting a little closer she was surprised to realize it was Gareth. He held onto the wall with one hand, pushing himself along and using a crutch under his other arm. In this way he made halting progress toward her. Closer now, he looked up at her and stopped, lifting his hand from the wall in a tentative wave. Relief at seeing him up and moving warred with her anger and hurt. Lisle took a deep breath and huffed it out, then walked up to him. She looked him in the eye. As so often before the words stuck in her throat and she said nothing.  

He held her eyes with his, then shrugged his shoulders and looked down, “I’ve been a fool Lisle, thinking only of myself. I know. I’m sorry. What matters is that you and Ell, Terris and Moss all reached Guardian Mountain.” He hesitated, then looked up at her, “How are they?”

Lisle stared at him, one side of her mouth curled in exasperation. “T…Terris and Moss are g…good. E…Ell is g…g…getting better.” She stared at him. “Y…You?”

“I’ll get better now. You’ll see.”

Lisle nodded, mouth pursed, then stepped around him and continued down the hall. She knew he was watching her go, hoping for some sign from her that she forgave him. She could feel his eyes on her back. Lisle had already forgiven him, she was so relieved for his change of heart, but she wasn’t ready to give him what he hoped for just yet. Let him stew for a bit.

She had others things to do, she needed to find Ell.

*****
Healer Deloren entered the small room that was Gareth’s, wrappings and balm held in her hands. The same as she had every day since Gareth and the others came to Guardian Mountain. Only now there was a difference. The corners of her mouth twitched upward as she thought of Gareth. He was improving rapidly. His lanky figure was a common sight now, determinedly exercising his leg, walking up and down the many tunnelways throughout Guardian Mountain. His recovery was so rapid that Deloren could only watch with amazement.

She entered his room to find him sitting up on his cot, wrapped leg extended before him while the other rested, knee bent, foot on the floor. A clutter of wood shavings covered his lap, pale white curls scattered over the cot and the floor beneath him. He looked up at her, his hands stilled. One hand held a small knife. The other, a wooden object, that he quickly hid behind his back. Deloren ignored his actions, so like a younger caught doing something he shouldn’t. Obviously, he didn’t want her to know what he was working on, although the evidence of it was all around him.

Without preamble she entered and began to unwrap his leg. She was glad to see that the wound now healed cleanly. Deloren looked up at Gareth. “Looking better. It was a near thing. That arrow penetrated the bone.” She could leave off the wrapping today. The leg no longer needed it and the air would do it good.

Gareth smiled. “You’ve tended me well, Deloren.” A mischievous gleam lit his eyes which crinkled at the corners.  “I do seem to be a target for every stray arrow that comes my way. So, I may need your tending again.”

Deloren chuckled half-heartedly, inwardly cringing. He had not been the easiest patient to work with. “For now, you’re well enough so you no longer need my help. I’ll be off to see about those that do.” Deloren turned to leave.

“Wait. I’ve made you something.”

Deloren turned back, curiosity arguing with her desire to get on to her next patient. Gareth stuck out his hand toward her. On his palm rested a miniature Guardian. At least she thought that’s what it was. It was a bit misshapen. The body was squat, with evidence of a tail curled about it, and there was a short neck with an over-sized head perched atop.

“It’s your Guardian, Loren.” Gareth tilted his head, pulled his hand back and peered at the figure seated there. “At least that’s what it’s supposed to be.” He stuck his hand out again still looking at it critically. “It’s the best I could do.” Then he looked her in the eyes. “I know I didn’t make it easy for you. I’m sorry. I am grateful for your care.”

Deloren smiled and inclined her head, accepting his offering for the peace token it was.

Then she left him to return the unused wrapping to the stores. She mused upon Gareth’s sudden recovery after so long not healing. She had seen it before. A person who should have healed and didn’t. No matter the care of her tending, nor the healing prayers of the Guardians, if a person didn’t want to heal, they sickened. A person’s will is a powerful thing, thought Deloren. I’m glad that one decided to heal.
​
Deloren arrived at the stores and replaced the still fresh wrappings. There was another whom she must tend to, a kitchen attendant laid low by a sick of the seasonal variety. She knew what was needed to ensure a rapid recovery and gathered the herbs from the cupboard. Thoughts of Gareth’s recovery stored away, as she had just stored the unused wrappings, the Healer moved off to tend the one who now needed her.
 

The morning was well underway, deep azure sky was visible through the treetops from the mouth of the cave, and bright sunlight dappled through the leaves to play along the floor of the entrance where Tim stood. One hand raked through his sleep tousled curls as he tried to restore some semblance of order there. Tim’s belly growled. He had slept later than usual. He looked behind him to see that Fal still slept, though Tim couldn’t tell if he really did. Often enough in the past he had thought Fal asleep and been startled by the Guardian suddenly roaring and heaving upward, his head twisting about, searching out Tim and freezing him with hard, golden eyes, huge toothed jaws open. Terrified, Tim would race from the cave, never quite knowing what Fal might do next. Apparently, it gave Fal pleasure to frighten him in this way. When Tim dared to creep into the cave several hours later, Fal would ignore him, acting as though nothing was amiss. Fal hadn’t played this little game since returning from the battle with the small Guardian, but Tim was still wary.

This morning, Tim moved quietly out of the cave and loped along his usual trail zig-zagging up the mountainside. It would take him up toward the gaping mouth of an enormous tunnel in the side of Guardian Mountain. This was a place that he had never dared to explore for fear of meeting Guardian’s even less tolerant than Fal. He usually gave the tunnel a wide berth.

His eyes had grown sharp in his time with Fal and he knew the plants whose roots made a palatable stew and the likeliest places to find them. The morning air was fresh with the scent of scrub juniper and forest pine, carried to him on the inevitable winds scouring the mountainside. He bent his head to his search. Scanning the rocky ground, he looked for the telltale signs of lace-like leaves and stubby, thick stems growing from sweet orange roots beneath. He walked for some time until he passed into a thicket of brush. A lilting melody wafting on the breeze arrested his attention. Curious, he moved through the brush and listened intently. High, thin notes wept even as he heard sobs beneath them, and he felt his heart respond, reaching out to the one who suffered.

He moved closer and with a start recognized the girl sitting on a rocky outcropping. He had met her only once before, when they stood on opposite sides of an attack that never should have happened. Halting abruptly, he stood there mute, just looking at her. She wore her brown hair in a single braid down her back and sat with arms holding slender, tanned knees to her chest. Sun sparkled off of the greystone beneath her, and shone from the wet tracks of tears on her cheeks.

Memories of Fal clawing and raking at the beautiful, small Guardian beneath him, raced through Tim’s mind. Feeling ashamed, he was about to turn away.

A tiny, green flyer, lifted into the air from the girl’s shoulder and buzzed right at his face, coming to a stop and hovering before his nose, wings whirring. It made a loud, chittering noise and shook minute fists at him. He took an inadvertent step back and lifted his hands defensively. He had to cross his eyes to get a good look at it. He was amazed to see that it was human in appearance. Angry, slanted eyes in a sharp-chinned green face, drilled through him. His brain searched for a memory and then he hit upon it. Flyer Folk. At any other time he would have been thrilled to meet this creature he’d only heard about in stories, but right now it was anything but friendly. It looked like it was about to attack him.

The girl lifted her head abruptly and looked at him, her song silenced. She made no effort to hide her tear-streaked cheeks and reddened eyes, but stared up at him, a look of recognition in her eyes.

“I…I  k…know you.”

Tim thought about running, surely nothing good could come of this, but something held him there. He kept his eyes on the angry flyer and scuffed the toe of his boot on the gravelly earth. “Uh-huh,” he said.

The girl leapt to her feet, brown eyes snapping. “You! Where is that… that creature who is no kind of Guardian?”  She planted her hands on her hips, elbows bent like the mantling wings of an enraged Guardian.

Tim brought his hands up palms out, as if to placate her and maybe fend them both off.

“He’s not here, and…and…I’m sorry.”

“Sorry! It ripped her to shreds! She almost died!”

The little flyer emphasized those words with a burst of chattering sound and made a lunge at his face.

He took a step back, hands up in front of his face.  “I know. I know. I’m sorry. He won’t hurt her again.” One help me, I hope he won’t, he thought.

Chancing a look away from the aggressive flyer, Tim glanced at the girl’s reddened cheeks and swollen eyes.

“Is that why you’re crying?” His eyes shifted uneasily back to the flyer whirring before him.

“What?” The girl scrubbed at her cheeks with both hands. “No!”

“Is the Guardian healed?”

“Y…yes, not that you d…did anything to h…help her.”

“I did… I…I tried to stop him.” The hovering green flyer backed off a little, still chittering but more quietly now, the tone almost questioning. Figuring it would be better to show how peaceable he was, Tim dared to lower his hands and clasp them behind his back.

The girl stared at him, her lips twisting up like she was going to cry again.

“One knows, I didn’t want that to happen.”

Expressionless now, she studied him.

He looked at her hopefully. “My name’s, Tim.”

She glared, then shrugged her shoulders, eyes rolling as she canted her head back. The flyer left him and buzzed back to the girl’s shoulder, landing gently and lifting a miniature green hand to rest against the girl’s pale-skinned neck.

Tim grunted and tucked his chin, looking away. Of course, she would hate him.

He heard her let out a sharp, huffing breath. “L…Lisle.”

His eyes darted back to her face, the corners of his mouth daring a smile. She wasn’t quite looking at him, her eyes hovering somewhere to the left of his face. Figuring this was an improvement, he decided he wouldn’t try for further conversation. He gave her an opened handed wave and started back the way he had come, his feet moving easily over the rocky ground. He felt lighter knowing the small Guardian was alright. Then a surprising thought occurred to him, maybe Lisle could be a friend. I’d like a friend. He looked back over his shoulder to see her watching him, her staunch companion staring at him intently. Not too sure about that little green flyer though. His hand lifted in acknowledgment, and unable to stop himself, his lips split into a grin. An uncomfortable gurgling resounded in his belly. Still hungry, he thought, and bent his head to the task of filling his stomach. 
 
 
 
 
 

At first Fal hid within the familiar darkness, dreading the arrival of the voices that haunted him. He waited, resting in the gloom. It felt good to rest. The terrible hunger for more, more power, more domination, more control, was absent. Like a body part cut off, he kept expecting it to be there, but there was only a frozen empty space inside where there should have been burning need. It was oddly restful.

Over time, Fal accepted that icy cave within. He felt a growing curiosity and chose to enter the void and explore. The voices were silent still, seemingly allowing him this.

He floated in blue space, surrounded on all sides by frozen, translucent perfection. He felt calm and content just to be there. Gradually, his attention was drawn by a slight movement, just visible within the blue ice that was before him. He looked deep and saw a face. It was Wufn, the man who raised and abused him. The man who died for him. Then another face, the Hunter, a man whom he never met in the flesh, but who also died because of him, even as the Hunter himself was an instrument of death. Then many other faces of those who had feared him, those who revered, obeyed and died for him. He saw his boy, Tim, cringing before him, and he saw himself, raging, mindless, obsessed. Surrounding the faces and visions in the ice were countless beasts, pullers, runners, rooters, even hoppers all watching him. He knew without knowing how he knew, that these were the creatures he had hunted, unwilling and tormented they died a death unsanctified, a death for his pleasure.

Emotions long frozen trickled through cracks that appeared in the ice all around him. He felt scalding droplets where they landed hot and painful within him.  

Now another face, the girl and the faces of her companions, wandering deep within the ice then turning to look at him, one by one. He saw terror and anger in their faces. He saw the Guardian, Ell, in all her beauty, wings stretched outward, graceful neck curved, and glorious golden eyes caressing him, knowing him; and even knowing all he was, she loved him.

It was too much, the cracks in the walls split wide open and he was drowning in a flood of shame and soul-deep regret.

The flood bore him up and out of that inner space, and he floated once again in the comforting darkness. Now, surely the voices would take him and he would be lost within that roiling greed. But no voices came, and the dark held him. He was reminded of the feeling he knew before hatching, curled within his shell, safe, warm and cared for. The memory was so strong, he almost felt that delicate protection surrounding him, could nearly see the translucent green light filtering through. He felt once again what it was like to be an unhatched Guardian of the One, the unwavering trust, the sure knowledge of his place on the Pathways and the deep understanding of his purpose. He wanted that again, with all that was within him.

Fal made his choice, he closed his inner eyes and fell into the eternal embrace of the One.

When once again he became aware of himself, he opened inner eyes to see darkness surrounding him. It was lit with dim pathways of white light, just barely perceptible. With joy, he recognized the Pathways of the One. It had been so long since he had turned his back on the One, he didn’t deserve this. Still, Fal dove deep and the Pathways grew brighter.

It was the outer world that was a shadow to him now, the only reality for Fal was here, tracing the Pathways. Here was freedom. The voices no longer haunted him. The void of the One so dark before, was now filled with light. He reveled in his liberty and wanted nothing more than to stay, a sparkling point of light moving, exploring, playing among countless other sparks.

Occasionally his mind touched upon a question, and then leapt away again as if from a sharp pain. Did he really deserve such joy? Perhaps not, most assuredly not, but he would accept this delight, allow it and seek more of it. He was a creature of the One again. He had chosen and the One welcomed him.

During the short periods of time in which Fal was aware of the shadow outer world he felt his boy there beside him. Though he never opened his eyes, he felt the devotion of that heart holding him. He wondered how it could be so. Surely, he never earned such devotion. When one night he felt the warm presence of the boy curl up next to him in sleep, he didn’t drive him away as he might have in the past, but allowed that small familiarity. Waking fully, Fal raised his head and curling his neck backward, looked at the boy, seeing his long legs tucked up beneath him, arms clutched about his thin chest. For the first time, Fal thought love to his boy.  Then, with sudden realization, Fal knew peace. Resting his head on the ground beside his boy, his Contracted, he slept.

*****
Tim had no idea how to help Fal. As far as Tim could see Fal needed nothing from him, lost as he was in his inner world. But Tim loved Fal. One only knows why, thought Tim. So, Tim did what he could, which was to watch over his Guardian.

 As the days passed, he left Fal’s cave for only short periods of time. Fal didn’t need to eat but Tim did, and he would scavenge as quickly as possible, bringing what he found back to the cave and resuming his vigil.

When night fell, Tim curled up in the corner of the cave in his usual spot, but the air flowing in from the cave mouth was chilling and Tim’s thin body shivered. The heat radiating off of the Guardian’s scaled hide was irresistible and he dared to move closer to Fal. Tim had tried this in the past and been forced away with a hard thrust of Fal’s powerful tail. But maybe now, when Fal seemed to be so unaware. Maybe just a little bit of warmth, he thought. Walking his hands and knees along the cave floor, Tim quietly crept closer, close enough to rest against Fal’s enormous side. He felt the Guardian’s heat flow into him, soothing his shivering muscles. It was a joy to allow himself such closeness with his Guardian, even for just a few stolen moments. He pillowed his head on the warm surface meaning to move away again before Fal woke. But the deep, wooshing sound of the great Guardian’s breath lulled him to sleep.

He dreamt. He was a small younger held in the warmth of his mother’s arms. The sound of her breathing comforted him as he rested his head against her softly lifting chest. He felt love surround and fill him with a glorious, rose-hued light, and he slept more deeply, more restfully than he had for a very long time.

​Fal felt as though his chest was cracking open like the skull of the runner from his meal that morning, which he so easily crushed in his jaws. His chest hurt, red hot pain radiating outward from the center, burning lightning into his shoulders, up into his throat and all the way down to his gut. His throat was parched. He badly needed water to drink, or blood. At the thought of blood, sudden, flooding nausea threatened to overwhelm him. He lost his balance and veered off, his wings tipping sideways in the air.
 
He felt tipsy like a morning flier drunk on old berries. It was all he could do to stay in the air, even as his wings flapped desperately. He couldn’t find his center. The balance so natural to him in flight was gone. His tail turned frantic circles in a futile effort to regain the equilibrium lost to him.
 
His nostrils were filled with the spicy, floral scent of her, mixed with the coppery tang of the smaller Guardian's blood. It was an enticing combination. She was so beautiful, so delicate. Even in his rage he had seen that. Nausea flooded over him at the thought, and he lurched off in the wrong direction, feeling as though he might at any moment empty the contents of his stomach.  
 
An enormous tree loomed up before him and he just barely negotiated his way around the shaggy, grey trunk by tilting his wings wildly and careening off in another direction entirely. He had to backtrack then, circling around to head back toward his cave.
 
His cave was all he wanted now, dark, comforting and safe. Whatever was happening to him he could deal with there, if only he could get back. He flapped his wings, lost his balance and crashed hard into the ground. His neck crumpled underneath, as his body rolled over onto his back and he lay there, stunned.
 
Slewing himself over onto his stomach, he promptly retched up his recent meal in an undignified series of undulating neck movements and stomach heavings. Then he pushed himself up onto his legs and began the laborious process of shuffling his way back to his cave, even as another wave of crippling pain shot through his chest.
 
*****
 
Tim ran, tears streaming down his cheeks. All he could see was that small, exquisite Guardian, ripped and bleeding. Sobs tore from his throat, wheezing through his chest. Still he ran. His body guiding him, knowing the way, his heart and mind still on the mountainside grieving over the dying Guardian. It was all his fault. He never should have hired the Hunter. He should have warned that Guardian to stay far away. He never should have let it come near the Fallen. And what about the Fallen? He had seen the way Fal flew away, haphazardly, dangerously unbalanced, making for his cave. Was Fal injured? He might not be able to do anything for that small Guardian… at this thought, Tim sobbed harder, but he could and would help Fal. His legs moved faster, leaping over stones, roots and branches in his way, carrying him back around the base of Guardian Mountain, toward Fal’s cave.
 
He careened around the side of the cave, one hand catching hold of the rough stone edge, and all but fell into the opening. The cave was dark and silent. Regaining his balance, he took several steps in, allowing his eyes to adjust. There was no looming, deeper shadow within. No sound of rocks grating beneath huge claws. No bellows-like breath. Fal was not there. Where could he be?
 
Tim went back outside and stood looking frantically in one direction then another. He heard a crashing from the woods off to his right, as of a great creature moving unsteadily through the trees. Fal! Tim followed the sounds of cracking branches and pushed his way through a patch of scrub growth. There he found Fal. The great Guardian labored, one step at a time, breasting through the undergrowth. His tail dragged the ground, wings dangled unevenly off the sides of his back, his head hung down, jaws agape and tongue lolling. His breath moving in and out in gasping heaves.
 
“Fal!” Tim rushed to his side, “are you alright?”
 
Golden eyes rolled upward at Tim, then Fal took in a shuddering breath and collapsed against him, bearing both of them to the ground.
 
*****
 
“Fal! Get up Fal!”
 
Fal felt something pushing at him, something else being pulled from underneath him. He opened his eyes. Tim was beside him, no, mostly under him.
 
Unwilling to squash the boy just yet, Fal dragged himself into a sitting position. He was aware that his wings and tail sprawled inelegantly and he didn’t care. It was enough that he was upright.
 
“Fal, are you hurt?” Tim touched his side, running gentle hands over his back, wings and legs, looking for signs of injury. The tender hands felt good. Fal leaned into them. Not because he needed such attentions, but because the boy needed to feel useful.
 
“Why did you do it Fal?” The words whimpered out of the boy as if unwilling, and unwilling Fal’s mind was pulled back to the scene on the mountainside.
 
The question, Fal thought, was not why I did it, but why did I stop? Nausea threatened to consume him and he felt retching waves move up his neck. Dizziness caused his balance to waver, and he spread his forelegs wide to stabilize himself.
 
Such thoughts were better left alone.
 
Fal cast an eye over the boy. He saw a bedraggled and gangly younger, part-man, part-boy, all human. Dirt streaked his face in tracks down his cheeks beneath red-rimmed eyes. Curly, black hair stuck out in clumps, stuck here and there with twigs and bits of leaves. His tunic was rumpled and hung askew on his thin frame.
 
Fal felt his chest expand as if something inside filled a space suddenly grown too small. It hurt, the pressure building. On a gasping intake of breath, he realized he felt something for this boy, his boy. Unwilling to pursue that or any thought further, Fal turned his head away, lunged to his feet, and made his way to the beckoning womb of his cave, Tim trailing behind.

Ell threw up her head, watching the enormous Guardian diving at her. Her jaws opened defensively, then it slammed into her. She felt the thudding impact as a tremendous weight bore her body to the ground. Huge claws stabbed and ripped agonizingly into her sides, grabbing at her neck and pinning her head to the stony earth.

She looked upward into a gaping, toothed maw, nostrils filling with the rotted flesh scent of heated breath as it came at her. Her mind filled with the horrific vision of this enormous Guardian crushing her skull in it’s jaws, like the shell of an egg.

“Git offa her you, you…!”

Terris never finished his demand as he leapt at her attacker. Out of the corner of her eye, Ell saw Terris fly through the air, thrown wide by an enormous, whipping tail. She felt a stab of fear for him, knowing Terris had already been injured even as he leapt upon her foe.

Ell prayed. One, protect these precious humans who have given so much to protect me.

She felt her heart expand and was suddenly aware of all that took place from a vantage point above, observing.

She knew this Guardian. This was Fal, the dark light.

She felt the loving presence of the One fill her to overflowing. It tingled throughout her body, easing the terrible weight crushing her into the ground, and the burning pain of the claws that ripped at her.

Her fear melted away and she was oddly curious to see what would happen next.

She knew with certainty that it was all perfect, whatever happened, and she was filled with a deep sense of peace. Then sadness welled up in her heart as she felt the agony, fear and rage which consumed Fal and her heart reached out to him.

“Elllll...!” Lisle screamed high and long, from the mountain path above. Ell saw Lisle hurtle recklessly down the mountainside, slipping sideways on the graveled surface, face contorted with anger. She charged at the Fallen, beating at him with her fists.

Another arrived at that same moment, the boy Ell had seen from the air, the one she recognized as Tim. Long legs and arms pumping furiously, he raced to Fal, pulling at him, trying to get him off of her back.

She was grateful for their efforts, even knowing they were futile.

The thought came to her, I am of the One and of the One I remain. She knew this to be her deepest truth, despite what was happening to her physical body.

Then, as her body struggled for breath beneath that terrible weight, she mind-spoke, Fal, we are ONE.

The light of the One flooded outward through the back of her heart. She felt the warm energy and an intense tingling sensation which dampened the burning pain in her back and neck from where his claws tore through her scaled hide. She felt love, huge and encompassing, engulfing her and the one who rent and tore at her.

Distantly, she felt the pain intensify in her back as his claws clenched spasmodically, powerfully, and then suddenly released.

With a shrieking roar the Fallen lifted into the air and flapped away in the direction from which he had come. She turned her head to watch him and saw that his movements were awkward. Long, dark tail wheeling, trying for balance, he pitched drunkenly in the air with none of the accustomed grace of a Guardian in flight.

Ell heaved desperate breath into her lungs, and her consciousness fell back into her body as its arching defensiveness collapsed. She felt the intense burning pain of her wounds return and groaned. A sound that vibrated from her gut and all along her neck, exacerbating the agony, and which she quickly cut short.

Lisle and Tim stood on either side of her, staring at her.

She heard the boy whisper, “I’m so sorry.” Then his feet pounded off in the direction the Fallen had taken. She didn’t lift her head to watch him go.

“Ell, you’re bl…bleeding!” She felt Lisle’s gentle hands on her back, and heard her catching intake of breath. “Oh, Ell.” Lisle quickly removed her over-tunic. She tried without success to rip it in pieces as she started to sob. Then she gave up and used the whole tunic to mop at Ell’s back and neck. 

“One bless you, Ell, yer a bit tore up,” said Terris through gritted teeth. He limped over to her, pressing his hand hard against his side. 

“There now, Younger, Ell ‘ll be alright.” Terris sounded out of breath as he moved over beside her and Ell felt another hand upon her back. “It looks a mess, but nothin’ as won’t heal up.” He paused to drag in another breath, still pressing his hand against his side. “You keep doin’ what you’re doin.’ It’ll stop the bleedin.’” Lisle snuffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve, and reached to mop Ell’s neck where it dripped crimson. Terris sank down on the ground beside Ell, breathing hard. Then his eyes rolled back, his head canted to the side, and he slowly toppled over.

The strain of holding the weight of two men in her claws was unbearable. Ell tried to control their fall even as they tumbled through air that whistled past her. She felt a ripping pain burn through her chest. Despite the agony, she opened her wings a little more, the soft skin at the edges flapping wildly. Still they fell, plummeting toward the mountainside.

She clenched harder with her claws just as she felt herself lose hold of one of the men. Glancing down, Ell locked eyes with the larger man as he silently fell away beneath them.  She screeched in frustration at the loss, unable to stop it, and thrust her wings wide, chest and shoulder muscles screaming.

She would not lose Terris.

With the weight lessened, their plunging fall transformed into a steep, downward glide. Air rushed over her wings and back, and pushed at her chest. It dragged at Terris, trying to pull him from her grasp. The effort to hold him, as well as trying to control their descent, was almost too much. Burning stretched across her chest, back and shoulders. It felt like her muscles were shredding apart. She hadn’t a hope of flying with him in the thin, mountain air. All she could do was hold on and pray that she wouldn’t crush him when they crashed into the rocky mountainside.

The ground rushed upward at them, jagged stones looming large, their rough, grey surfaces blanketed in orange and green lichens. She tilted her wings slightly, desperation and instinct combining to allow her to maneuver between the enormous rocks. Then she threw herself to the side so she wouldn’t land on top of Terris.

There was a jarring impact, and they were tumbling in a great mass of arms, legs, wings and tail.

Rolling to a stop, Ell lay, stunned, half-way down the mountainside, wings spread awkwardly. She was aware of the wind, now a gentle breeze flowing softly over her, carrying the blossom scent of white flower from fields in the distance. Then she felt Terris at her feet still wrapped in her talons. He moved. The jangling sensation of muddled, but living energies surrounded him. Blessed One, he is alive. The relief she felt was so great that her head spun with dizziness and she had to lie still to let the sensation pass.

“I’m dead, ain’t I?” said Terris.

Ell, lifted her head, long neck aching with the effort, and looked him in the eyes.

“I ain’t?” Hope lit his face. “Ell, you saved me! Thank the One!” Terris fumbled a bit trying to get up and help Ell up at the same time.

“Could you let go a me a bit?”

Ell tried. She pulled her legs back, dragging Terris, scraping over the pebbled surface of the ground towards her.

“Ooof, hold up there, Ell.”

Her toes ached terribly, strained with muscle cramps. Mortified, she realized that she could not release her talons to let go of Terris.

“Ya cain’t let go a me can ya’? I seen that happen ‘atimes to the hunter fliers. I’ll jess help you a bit.”

Ell sucked in a breath, inadvertently holding it against the pain, as he gently, then more firmly, pried at her toes. She forced herself to breathe deeply while she endured the indignity and discomfort of the process.

Once separated, she and Terris climbed rather shakily to their feet. Ell shook out her legs and talons carefully, relieved to be able to release the cramping. She studied Terris as she did so. He busied himself brushing dirt and twigs out of his hair. He was a bit bloodied with scrapes on his face and hands. Yet remarkably, he was unharmed.

Ell closed her eyes. Thank you One!

Sharp, painful twinges in her chest and shoulders warned her not to attempt using her wings. She eased them into a folded position on her back, then looked about for the other man, the one she had dropped.

She spied him, a sprawling heap on the mountainside below. She could see the path of broken shrubs and disturbed pebbles darkening the ground where he had tumbled down, finally landing up against a striated boulder. He wouldn’t be hunting them again. Ell’s heart clenched at the needless loss of life. Then her keen eyesight focused in on his face. His eyes were open. There was no fear there, no anger. His lips were tipped upward in a boyish, almost innocent smile.

She heard Terris take a shuddering breath and turned her attention back to see him shaking all over. He wrapped his arms about himself as if cold. He was staring at the body of the one who had hunted them. Then his legs gave way beneath him and he was suddenly sitting on the hard, stony ground.

He’ll be alright, Ell thought, warmth filling her heart, for this small, courageous, man. The One had blessed them both with survival. She looked up and took a deep breath of the fresh, mountain air. Lace-like clouds decorated the sky as they drifted overhead. It felt so good to be alive. The aching throughout her shoulders and back, reminded her of just how alive she was, and served to emphasize the depth of her gratitude. She was filled with an expanding sense of joy and took in a great gulp of air. She needed more than anything right now, to bellow out her thanks to the One.

Ell opened her jaws to voice her gratitude, but before she had a chance to make a sound, a deafening roar thundered down at them from above. Rage, not her own, surrounded her; the intensity of the emotion stabbing, red-hot. A shadow moved over her, eclipsing the warmth of the sun. She whirled around and saw a Guardian, huge and black, arrowing down at them in a stooping dive. 

Climbing steadily upward, Terris stopped to catch his breath, scraggly beard and spiky hair outlining his head against the blue sky behind him. The creases around his mouth and across his forehead dug deeper now, his cheek bones standing out clearly. Weeks of travel had left their mark. He stood bent over, hands on his knees, chest heaving and chanced a look over the edge of the trail. His eyes traveled down, down the rock stubbled slope, down through the trees to where they had first started their climb at the base of Guardian Mountain. By his reckoning they were almost half-way up to where he could see the yawning, dark opening in the mountainside, signaling the tunnel entrance to Guardian Cavern. He remembered Lisle telling him in her halting way, how the mountain itself had created that tunnel with its own fire. She said the Guardian had shown it to her. Still, he wondered how much of it was a younger’s fancy. Don’t matter none if it is or 'taint. We’re goin’ there.

They were at the edge of the tree line now and he was glad to note that his legs felt strong, even if his breath puffed a bit. This journeyin’s been the strengthen’ of me. His mind drifted back. I’m some different now than I was, fer sure. Back then I alus hungered for coin. That don’t seem real important now.

Looking up he saw Ell venture out from between the trees in front of him. Her graceful neck turning, golden eyes searching this way and that.  Then she took a running leap into the air, wings outstretched. She soared up, stroking hard to gain altitude. Transparent streaks of clouds filled the sky behind her as she took a swooping pass over the whole side of the mountain.

The air was still, as if holding its breath, waiting.

Lisle was next to leave the cover of the trees, Moss hovering at her shoulder. Terris followed. He was glad to feel Gareth’s solid presence right behind him and thought with pleasure how the big man treated him now. Terris’s chest filled with a sudden intake of breath as he realized, he respects me. He looked ahead at Lisle moving purposely forward. She calls me her friend. His lips curved upward.

Moss suddenly appeared beside him, buzzing to land lightly on his shoulder.

“How’s it lookin’ there Moss?”

She patted his cheek and chittered softly.

“Well and good then,” he said.

Ell back winged in to land hard, a little way up the mountain in front of Lisle. He saw her sides bellowing in and out, reminding him of his blacksmith shop at home, such as it was. He didn’t miss that shop one bit. He watched the Guardian, still breathing hard, as she waited for them.

She’s lookin’ some worn out by all this.

Lisle reached the Guardian and moved up next to her, laying her hand upon the Guardian’s shoulder. Then they turned together to resume the climb, the Guardian staying with the group, shuffling ahead to lead the way, claws scraping on rocky earth.

As he watched, he felt that deep sense of awe that he always felt when he looked at the Guardian. Her scaled and muscled hindquarters moved powerfully up the incline ahead of him. Long, ridged tail lifted in a slight curve, wings tucked neatly to her back, her long claws dug in front and back, pulling her up the slope.

He felt proud, that he, Terris, a not very good black smith from a no-name village, had helped protect and companion this servant of the One, all this way to Guardian Mountain.

He no longer worried about filling his belly. He worried about the safety of these, his first friends. I’m a differnt man, an’ a good thing it is. Terris hoisted his pack higher on his shoulders and bent forward, strong legs pumping up the side of the mountain.

*****

The Hunter arrived at the base of Guardian Mountain, staying well-hidden within the cover of the trees. He felt the strain of the journey as strange thoughts pulled at him, urging him to give up and go home.

Home, he thought with sudden longing, a place he hadn’t seen in a very long time. Stopping, his hand unconsciously felt for the little cloth bag tied on a leather thong about his neck and tucked beneath his wrinkled and greying shirt.  He pulled it out between travel-grimed fingers and felt of its lumpy contents through the rough fabric.  

He knew his fa would have passed by now, his ma gone long ago. The village where he grew up would be different. But his sister might still be there, married to that fellow. What was his name? She might even have young ones, a family. She’d welcome him, he knew. She was just that kind. She’d given him this bag, filled with the tiny treasures of their shared childhood. She didn’t need to know what he’d become - a hunter of men, and worse still, a hunter of sacred creatures of the One. He shook his head as if to shake the thoughts loose, and let go of the bag.

I’m proud of the name I've made. 

The conflicting thoughts raged about in his head with questions that had followed him all the way from where he picked up the companion’s trail back in the forest. He felt unbalanced and angry. 

Seeking escape, he gazed up the side of the mountain, his hunter-trained instincts judging the best path to take through the trees. As he watched, he saw movement on the mountain high above him. He stared intently and made out three, small figures emerging from the edge of the tree line. He figured the Guardian would be in the air somewhere, but didn’t see it. Looking further up the mountainside he noted several places in the rocks where he might take them one at a time as they passed through.

That’s it then, he thought. I am the Hunter or I am no one.

He began to trot upward, tracing a path that would wind up and around, well above where the companions must pass. He had found the perfect place for an ambush.
 

​Lisle searched the trees from her seat astride Ell’s shoulders with frantic eyes, desperate to locate the rain-shrouded figure whose terrifying laughter echoed around her. She took a deep breath of waterlogged air, and reloaded her stone shot. Shaking, wet hands made the task difficult, as the small stones slipped about in her fingers. Rain dripped into her eyes, and she hastily wiped it away with her upper arm.

Lisle jumped nervously, as Terris popped his head up beside her, using Ell’s tail to lever himself up. Water ran over his scalp and down the sides of his face. She saw his dripping, clenched fist shaking at the trees in the direction Ell was staring, scattering droplets of wet about them both.

“Come out an’ fight us ya beast, and stop yer cursed cacklin’.”

She turned to see Gareth recover quickly from where Ell’s protective sweep had thrown him. He knelt, knocking arrow to bow once again, carefully out of range of Ell’s neck. Veiled in the downpour, he looked ghostly and insubstantial. Lisle shivered at the thought, and fearfully made the warding sign down at her side, thumb to forefinger.

She had no idea where Moss was.

Ell took in a deep breath and extended her neck, jaws wide. Lisle felt the vibration through Ell’s shoulders and chest beneath her as she roared again. It was deep and bellowing, resonant with challenge.

The laughter from the woods cut off.

Misty, white vapor rose from Ell’s neck, even as the rain poured down. Lisle held her stone shot in one hand, and placed the other on Ell’s neck which was blushing a reddish hue. She felt the hard scales beneath her fingers radiating heat, then became aware of a burning sensation, rising through her thighs and backside from where she sat on Ell’s shoulders.

Her seat was growing rapidly hotter now, so much so that she could barely tolerate it. She had to keep lifting one leg and then the other, holding onto Ell’s spinal ridges and shifting her weight. This is no good, she thought as she fidgeted, I need to be able to shoot.

The spines on Ell’s head, stood erect and bright red, a flush of crimson color extending down her neck and onto her shoulders. She opened her jaws and let out another deep roar, which ended suddenly with a huge gout of flame spurting out. It seared the air, a brief, golden light reflecting off the trees before them.

Ell’s head reared backward, almost knocking Lisle off, as she clamped her jaws shut on the flame, cutting it off with a gulping sound.

Lisle could only stare at Ell in amazement. She watched smoke drifting up from between Ell’s clenched teeth.

“Did ya’ see that? She’s a flamin’! Ya’ best get down from there, younger.”

Terris reached up to pull Lisle backwards, sliding her off behind the protection of Ell’s extended wing and jumping down beside her. Lisle landed on her feet, grateful to be off Ell’s burning shoulders.

An arrow pounded through the branches well above them, thudding through the leaves. The tattered remains chasing the rain down and scattering over Gareth.

“You’ll have to do better than that! One curse you!” Voice rough with anger, Gareth knelt with one-knee on the ground. Rain streamed over his hood and down his back as he drew his bow and aimed in the same direction that Ell had flamed.

A rumbling belch bubbled up through Ell’s throat and out her jaws. She shook her head, long neck waggling back and forth as if uncomfortable. The scent of Ell’s fiery breath drifted back to Lisle, smelling almost like that of the eggs from their layers back home.

Lisle pushed past Terris and out to the edge of Ell’s wing, aiming her stoneshot at the trees once again. She searched for shadowy movement. This time, she would make her shot count.

*****
The Hunter’s laughter ended as abruptly as it had begun. He moved closer, the pounding rain covering his approach. He stood behind a tree, rain pouring down around him, a grey shadow in a  grey wood. He watched the Guardian, an arrow knocked in the deadly, long bow that was his hunting weapon of choice. Drawing the bow, sinewy, powerful arms straining, he took aim for the delicate patch under its forearm with practiced skill.

It roared yet again, loud and challenging, and he felt a startling kinship with this supreme hunter. He marveled at the blade-like teeth bared in defiance; the claws ripping at the earth beneath it; the sheer massive power of it. He stood in awe before this marvelous beast. He could feel its rage with every bellow, and that intense anger moved something deep within him.

It unexpectedly let loose with a gout of flame, burning white-hot through the watery, grey air right at him, and he took a startled step backward. His nostrils filled with a warm, moist scent like that of the bubbling pits he’d encountered in the far North. Then his foot slipped in the mud beneath him and his arrow shot high and wide.

Steadying himself, he again took aim, even as his mind questioned. What is this creature of fire and air? He had never seen it’s like.

It fascinated him, and, it confused him. He tried to sort it out.  Arms trembling with the strain of holding the draw on his hunting bow, he carefully released the pull on the arrow and dropped the bow down to his side.  Emotions roiled inside him. Strange, new feelings of admiration and longing raged in his chest. The cursed beast inspired something in him. Something even more than kinship; it was like a soul-deep recognition.

He shook his head, snarling, disgusted with such flights of fancy.

Then, an unobtrusive voice in the back of his mind, so small as to easily go unnoticed, it asked, do I really want to kill this amazing creature? 
​
This strange inner conflict was suddenly too much. Even as the kneeling man beside the Guardian taunted him, the Hunter melted back into the trees. 

The rain lightened momentarily. Lisle lifted her head and pushed back a thoroughly soaked hood to rest dripping about her neck.  I don’t know why I even bother to wear it, it’s so wet. She looked to see misty, open air on the other side of the trees to her left. Moving ever North, the companions slogged along, traversing the side of a steep incline, as they pushed closer to Guardian Mountain.

The storm raged on. The group were pummeled with an almost constant downpour. Water streamed away down the incline to their right, rivulets of runoff crossing in front and behind them, rushing to merge into the river far below. The ground was soggy underfoot, mud sucking at their boots. Occasional slides of stones and pebbles made the footing treacherous.

Lisle breathed deeply of the wet air filling the woods. The clean, damp scent would have been pleasant if she had not had so much of it recently. What’s more she was feeling increasingly agitated. She was sure they were being watched, and kept looking around, checking their backtrail every few minutes. Her hand, damp and white-knuckled, gripped the handle of the stoneshot at her belt.

The constant beat of rain pouring down around her was split by a tremendous roar from above that vibrated through Lisle's body. Jumping, she looked up with startled eyes to see Ell arrowing down between the trees. She was terrified that Ell was injured, as Ell landed almost on top of the companions, wings outstretched.

Roaring still, Ell backed into the four of them, herding them behind her, up against the huge trunk of an ancient tree, as she released another stentorian scream of rage at the mist-veiled tree trunks surrounding them.

Frightened still, but relieved, Lisle could feel that Ell was not injured. Ell was terrified and very, very angry.

“Let me see, Ell!”

Yanking her slingshot from her belt, and clamping it between her teeth, Lisle pushed her way free of the green, scaled haunch that held her against the rough, dripping bark of the huge tree. She leapt, grabbing onto a spinal ridge on Ell’s back, and scrambled up to her shoulders, like climbing a ladder.

The sky opened up, rain driving down. Lisle wiped the rain from her eyes and looked to see a dark, man-shaped shadow scuttling from tree to tree, moving ever closer.  

Moss, chattering angrily from inside Lisle’s overtunic, pushed her way out and took to the air, only to be grounded immediately by the driving force of the rain.  She landed at the base of the great tree and pulled herself up the trunk, climbing the shaggy, wet bark upward. Her hair was immediately slicked against her head by the rain in long, green waves streaming down over her shoulders.

“One curse it, Ell! Let me by!” Gareth struggled his way past the wing that pinned him against the tree trunk.

Another scream of defiance from Ell momentarily deafened Lisle as she stared out frantically from under eyelashes dripping with rain, looking for anything that presented a target for her stoneshot.

“Keep yur cussed head down younger!” Terris yelled up at her, wrestling with the enormous tail that held him. “Let go a me ya’ great lizard!”

Gareth pushed by Ell’s wing, knocking an arrow in his bow as he did so. He moved to stand in front of the raging Guardian. Ell roared deafeningly and knocked him aside and behind her with a sweep of her long neck.

Lisle felt rage, frustration and terror filling her up like an overfull water bladder. She had to let it out before it consumed her and opened her mouth to loose her own high, scream of defiance as she flung a stone uselessly into the trees.

From the woods before them, amidst the clattering of rain on the water-soaked ground, a howl of laughter echoed.

*****

Behind a tree, the Hunter bent over, hands on his knees, choking with laughter. Rain poured down around him, drenching his already soaked overcoat and splattering another layer of mud over his hide boots.  It didn’t matter if they heard him. They already knew he was there, and he was delighted by the inept tableau in front of him.

He guffawed as he thought of the Guardian herding and pinning its humans behind it, and those incompetent men fighting against the Guardian, uselessly trying to defend it.

 He laughed so hard he could barely catch his breath.

Then he thought of that younger, sounding like some crazed night singer, wildly flinging a stone at him. It was all just too much, and he howled with laughter again, hardly able to stand up.

That Guardian though, it gave him pause. He sobered and stood up straight, tilting his head and looking out from behind the tree trunk which hid him. Rain dripped from the brim of the hat which protected his eyes as he watched the roaring beast before him. He felt an emotion so foreign to him it was almost frightening. He couldn’t put a name to it.

The huge green-scaled creature was rippling with muscle. It stood upright on powerful hindquarters, long, curved claws gouging huge tracts in the muddy earth. With its wings spread wide, and open, sharp-toothed jaws it looked like some enormous avenging demon.

It seemed a creature not of this world, the likes of which he had never come across before. It was all that he had hoped, and so much more. The beast inspired him, a totally new and unfamiliar sensation.

Suddenly he wanted it, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.  That Guardian is mine!

He studied the beast. It was covered all over with scales. Even the belly was lined with yellow protective plating.  The Guardian roared again and flapped its wings, its forearms flailing. His attention was drawn to the area just under its forearms. He wiped away the rain which had blown into his eyes and looked to see that under the forearms was covered with small, delicate looking scales. A well-placed arrow there will bring it down, he thought. Then I can deal with the humans.

The Hunter searched the area about him, and pin-pointed a tree which would give him a better vantage point for his shot. Staying low, mist shrouding his movements, he crept into place.

Gareth, brows knitting, looked at the sky with concern etched into his features. The dawn that morning was bright with red streaks, and a solid bank of slate-grey clouds built to the Northeast, stretching from one side of the horizon to the other.

​“That’ll be full on us soon. We’ll need to find good shelter,” said Gareth. Lisle nodded. Gareth knew about such things.

Ell waddled into a running leap, wings outstretched, then shot up between the trees and out of sight. Moss followed her upward for a short distance, wings a green blur. She hovered and turned in a full circle, peering all around them. Seeming satisfied, she fluttered down to land delicately on Lisle’s shoulder. Lisle hitched up her pack, careful not to dislodge Moss, and fell in behind Gareth, who had already started out. Terris followed closely behind them all, as Gareth rapidly outpaced his companions. 

They pushed hard, traveling all morning without a break. Lisle and Terris collected what firewood they could carry along the way.

The terrain grew rockier and they traversed an increasing incline as they moved North. Their feet swished through thick patches of lacey, green ferns growing at the foot of the great trees, and peeking up between large outcroppings of grey-stone.

Gareth scouted back and forth, walking sometimes with them, sometimes ahead or behind. By midday he returned to them, having found shelter.

He led them to a cave almost hidden in an embankment clustered about with tall evergreens. Its entrance was covered over with ferns hanging down from a mass of spongey moss clinging to the rocks surrounding it. Inside was evidence of past habitation by the small, winged darklings for which the forest was named, but the entrance of the cave was relatively clear and unsullied.  Here, there was enough room for their small encampment.

Not long after their arrival, with barely time to get themselves settled, the wind blasted bringing the storm full upon them. Their camp was protected by the grey-rock overhang and remained relatively dry, despite the constant drip of rainwater from the ferns hanging down.

Lisle settled herself on her bedroll. It was pleasant to rest there as the storm raged outside the cave. Very pleasant, she thought, with images of sleeping the day away by a warm fire in her mind. Moss snuggled into Lisle’s pack, wrapped in her small section of fur. Terris stretched out on his bed, hands clasped under his head, legs crossed, the picture of relaxation. Ell sat upright, toward the back of the cave, eyes closed. Gareth crouched close to the entrance, wrapped around with his bedroll, and prodded at their struggling fire with a small faggot. Every few minutes he scanned the storm lashed wood in front of them. Soon the fire was warm and crackling at the cave mouth. The welcome scent of woodsmoke curled around them even as wind and rain howled on the other side of the rocks. Lisle laid her head back. It feels so good to rest, she thought, as she drifted off.

Ell lurched to her feet and moved out from the back of the cave, into the rain, crimson ridged tail thrashing. Lisle's eyes popped open as Ell passed by her, and she  groaned. Time to go, and she nudged Terris with her foot and then Gareth. “P..pack up.”

The companions reluctantly left their shelter. The forest, so quiet the day before, now howled and grabbed at them. Wind-blown rain assaulted them, tearing at their clothes and packs, drizzling cold wet down their necks. Within minutes they were soaked through. Movement kept them warm enough, and travel hardened muscles kept them going.

Ell, grounded by the storm, walked beside Lisle. Lisle was grateful for Ell’s comforting, bulky presence next to her, even as she could feel Ell’s need to hurry. Gareth too, stuck close.

End-day was a miserable affair, hunched against a tree trunk to get out of the worst of the wind and rain. The sky, when they could see it through the driving rain, ranged in color from stone to deepest slate. The dark clouds formed curious, almost black, bulbous patterns such as Lisle had never seen before. Thunder growled and roared almost continuously. The rain, lit by lightening, seemed with each flash, to be caught at a standstill on its way to the ground. Wind thrashed at the tree branches above them which threatened to tear lose and cascade down upon their heads. They rested only long enough to choke down a cold end-day meal, then got up and slogged on, hoping to find shelter for the night.

*****

Rain and wind slashed downward, making tracking, even for the Hunter, near impossible. All traces of the trail he had followed so easily washed away with the storm. Lightning stabbed downward, flashing off dark, wet tree trunks and illuminating the forest about him in skeletal white on black. Thunder roared. The scent of ozone and soaked earth permeated the air.

Resigned, he squatted beneath the low, hanging branches of a densely needled evergreen, as he considered his options.

A short while later, having consumed a portion of dried rooter from his pack, the Hunter stood up, pushing his way free of the sheltering boughs. He stared up into a dark and glowering sky that seemed determined to continue on with its temper tantrum, as rain dripped from the brim of his hat, running in rivulets down over shoulders already soaked.

He picked up a hefty, arm-length branch from the ground in front of him, where it had been knocked down by the heavy winds. Its rain-softened bark felt crumbly and rough in his hands, as he looked about at the changes wrought by the storm. Driving rain wiped clean all trace of his quarry’s passing. The ground was now covered with leaves and debris blown about by the violent weather.

Tracking the humans was no longer possible, but he knew the companions traveled North, running for the safety of Guardian Mountain. He would travel due North and travel fast. With luck he would come across their trail on the way. If not, he would take them at the mountain. I will have that Guardian, he thought, and viciously stabbed the end of the branch he held, deep into the wet earth at his feet.