To Recall Times Less Bloody (Solo)

by **Zuriel** on March 14th, 2013, 8:08 pm

{15th day of Spring, 512}

The keen blade glides so easily, finding little resistance on the neck of the man who had captured him. Despite the horrific grating noise that was pressed upon his ears, Zuriel would observe this human custom with intrigue. Jakl they called him and he would sit, pulse steady and comfortable as the old man ran an extremely sharp edge over his throat and face.

Zuriel had seen the old man teaching Guhl about the straight razor in the past, about its extremely keen but fragile nature. As he drew the blade across a leather strip he would tell Guhl how every use would make tiny bends in a blades surface, and how this method serves to straighten them out without dulling the blade. Guhl was far too dull to find it interesting though.

The threat Jakl sits under just to remove potentially useful fur from his face was ridiculous. Some humans, the young zith decided, just beg for a bloody demise. He would deliver this unto Jakl when the time came but for now the prisoner could only watch as he walked out of the ruins of what was more of a gazebo than a tent anymore.

Zuriel pricked his ears and listened to Jakl ordering around the men outside, he would always speak calmly and clearly to the old man but the rest he spoke to as if they were below him, nothing close to the abhorrent disgust he would show for the young zith but they were definitely his subordinates.

There were six of them all together, Jakl himself, the leader of the group who hated all zith with a passion and led the group to destroy them. His two full grown sons, Guhl and Horin whom he taught hatred for zith and how to hunt them, there was once a third son but during a hunt a female defending her pups had caught him by the apex of his legs and torn him beyond repair, he had bled to death soon after.
Jakl had burned the pups alive in front of her.

There were always two other warriors but they were never the same for long, Jakl paid the two to stick around for extra muscle. Sometimes these men died or left and were replaced, Jakl referred to them as “merc” and considered them expendable though paid them extremely well, probably to attract them to the job, after all if they died before leaving he kept their pay.

Finally there was the old man, who could control the winds around him in an impressive display that brought zith crushingly to the ground. The old man stayed in the tent or on horseback unless they were under attack, he didn't actively hunt the zith and his reasons for travelling with them seemed strange and unclear, he didn't even know his own name and would never have one. The old man had a clear grasp of names in general, even giving Zuriel his one but the concept of his own name was non-existent to him. His mind seemingly teetered, always on the brink of the unknown.

He spent his time tending to the camp, checking stocks, consulting maps and other assorted behaviours. Often the old man spoke to the prisoner while no-one else was around or gave him extra food from the stores. Previously Zuriel had simply told the old man he would be slaughtered like the rest when his time here was at an end.

The old man was his captor, but in truth he was both kind and powerful, two traits none of the others possessed one of, nevermind both. Zuriel had grown to respect the old man and didn't mind hearing him. He had said a few weeks ago to the zith that he knew his time was running short, He did not know how much longer he could continue with these people, moving as they did through the wilderness and using his magic as he was. Zuriel at this point had told the old man that he now planned on killing him fast when he was free, he would not suffer and his age and discomfort would no longer exist. Confusingly the old man had chuckled at this, not in a mocking way, Zuriel knew the differences in human tones well and it was more as if he had found the answer to be satisfactory or in good taste.

by **Zuriel** on March 14th, 2013, 8:09 pm

{26th day of Spring, 512}

The old mans steed strolled at a leisurely pace with his pack horse in tow. Zuriels wings were bound with braided leather, leather manacles always in place around his wrists were attached via iron links to either side of the belt strapped around his waist which was in turn linked to the saddle. The Leathers around his ankles strapped him into the stirrups and the bag over his head shut out most of the light to allow him rest and prevent thoughts of escape. Zuriel had become accustomed to this treatment, and was able to sleep here during the day as they travelled. This would give him enough energy to perform his "duties" once they stopped to make camp and the night closed in.

For a while now the hunters had been planning something. Whatever it was it involved him but no other zith, this was curious and he would plan to use their unfamiliar territory to his advantage, his freedom was soon at hand and he could feel it.

They needed supplies, mere weeks earlier Jakl had received a message bird which told of a great storm rolling in. Luckily they had been near enough the coast they had time to flee into the caves, but not near enough that they had time to pack up camp. The humans huddled around a fire and listened as the storm wrecked the countryside (and their belongings) while Zuriel slept a good days sleep in a real cave.

New barbed nets and bolas would be needed needed to replace lost ones that were beyond finding, food and medicines ran short and they were in dire need of a new tent to replace their current mess. Mizas were required for all of these things and also of course to pay the mercs.

They were drawing someone out, someone they would capture and sell on to the slave caravan they often dealt with. There was speak of an "arena" paying heavily for the target who was only mentioned as a "horseman" adorned in gold and yellow clothing. The young zith had heard this tale before, but they had never gone chasing it. The desperation of his captors gave him a bad feeling and he knew he was to be the candidate for baiting this horseman to his capture. However, with careful planning and the straight razor he had found (discreetly) after the storm, their desperation may just facilitate his escape.

After stopping and setting up camp for the night the humans headed to sleep, Zuriel however, stood bound in the centre of the camp. His ears pricked at all times in search of danger, foreign zith and predators were bound to rip him apart alongside the humans so he was forced through necessity to function as an early warning system whenever zith, or anything else for that matter was conspiring an attack near the humans. This was the main reason for his continued existence.

"It is intriguing" he thought "that the tree cover is getting thinner every time we stop." This along with a few other things brought him to the conclusion that they were headed in a specific direction, to a different clime. He listened in to a rodent running through the grass close by before getting destroyed by a bird of the night. "Rodents really do make the most irritating of noises" Nothing large stirred in their vicinity though and he was glad for it, he had heard Jakl talking to his men earlier about how they would soon have to be on high alert for predators. He had spent a large amount of time talking about “Glassbeaks” These had been described as large, flightless birds that were the unparalleled hunters of the area. The idea of these creatures running in packs like wolves disturbed the young zith greatly when he knew himself to be grounded. Jakl had however, relayed that they were nearing their destination and that they would set their trap tomorrow and wait for the horseman to come, then they would leave the predators hunting grounds. Zuriel readied himself for the incoming conflict, soon he would be free, in one way or the other.

by **Zuriel** on March 14th, 2013, 8:10 pm

{27th day of Spring, 512}

He listened, tied to the trunk of a tree, the cover of which made a large clearing in the towering grass, this clearing had been widened out on one side by the mercs incessant chopping in order to prepare the ambush. Luckily the plains out before him carried sound quite well even over the cover and as the sun began to set the grasses a dull red he could hear the hooves of the horseman making his way towards them. "Wait, two horsemen..." he realised and his mouth opened in a fearsome grin. "They weren't expecting two" There was no way they were within visual distance in such long grass when the second rider split off, flanking them. The nonsense Jakl had said about the riders always knowing where an intruder was in their homeland seemed surprisingly accurate. "I wonder what senses they possess which allow them this facade..." He then noticed their behaviour "They are slowing, circling us, trying to gauge the fortitude of the camp... and there's a predator nearby" Zuriel took a long breath of air. "Is that feline? definitely, a large feline alongside the riders in their hunt..." He hadn't noticed it before as the pads of it's feet and the sounds of the horses hooves had muffled it's tracks as it slipped through the grass. Now though it was extremely close and the smell was obvious. While the humans waited in ambush Zuriel signaled where the rider and his hunting cat were, making sure they knew he was with a predator that could track them and that there was another rider creeping in from behind. He could see Jakl's expression harden as he realised this was going to be a much harder fight than he had anticipated, two riders on horseback and a hunting animal? Zuriel could practically see it on his face, and hear it in the anxious breaths of his compatriots. From the perspective of the prisoner, his escape necessitated that the humans were held in battle for as long as possible and perhaps even killed. Though he would rather kill them himself the extra rider would make for a much better, if not considerably more dangerous, distraction. "Pathetic creatures really, with their faded hearing and horrible vision, they will soon all be dead"

Zuriel began to shake his bound wings slightly, holding his hands flat with his palms facing upward he also curved the fingers in his wings to make a catchment. The blade fell easily from the fold of his wing where he had hidden it and into his upturned palms where he folded it out. Knowing full well how sharp this blade was he pulled his arms outward to make sure the leather belt around his belly was taut and began to slice through.

The cat came leaping in from the side as the first rider charged out of the long grass head on, he had figured out where the humans lay in ambush and was attempting to surprise them with his own as the second rider charged in from behind them. The riders hadn't thought that the zith prisoner tied to the tree was actually aiding their enemies though, and they were ready for the charge. The old man summoned his control of the winds and threw his barbed net, the net collided with the cat mid-air and carried it a metre off to the side while wrapping it up tight. Guhl and Horin ran at the first rider while the two mercs and Jakl ran in the other, spinning bolas above their heads and then tossing them to collide with the horses legs before diving out of the way of the incoming mass of muscle. The old man stayed where he was, he used his mastery of the wind to make sure the bolas landed perfectly, wrapping all four legs on both horses, this was a feat he usually managed without any problems, this time though it was managed with great strain. It seemed the very winds were on the side of these riders and the old man fought against them every time he tried to force them to do his bidding, the bolas seemed to veer off course and back on again, violently twisting as they impacted the horses legs. Guhl was not so lucky and the old man had no time to save him as the first riders javelin collided with his chest, smashing through him and out his back as he crumpled to the ground.

Once the young zith's body was free of the belt it still held his wrists together and his wings were still bound to the back of it. He crouched down, placing his palms down on the ground he stepped his feet onto the leather belt between and pulled upwards, using his leg, arm and wing muscles in tandem to break the small metal links attached between the belt and the bonds on his wrists and wings. He then unbuckled the straps around his ankles, shrugged off the wing restraints and stepped free of his bonds for the first time in four years.

Scanning the area, Zuriel noted the chaos. Both horses had been felled, their legs tangled and the cat was wrapped in a barbed net, both riders had come tumbling to the ground and Guhl lay slain, pierced through with a long stick. Horin was struggling with the first rider, attempting to capture the javelin with his net in melee combat so he could get close and club him. On the other side there sat one merc on the ground grasping an arrow in his gullet, he was not yet dead, but he wouldn't last long. The second rider held the other merc in front of him, his bow had been dropped but he held a long knife to the mercs throat as he backed away from Jakl, obviously a threat to force Jakl to disarm himself.

Jakl slowly moved in on the second rider seemingly weighing his options. Swinging his net once Jakl tossed it over the rider and the merc entangling them both before moving in quickly, tugging the rope sharply to snag the barbs and further entrap his quarry. The rider made true on his promise and slit the mercenaries throat as he cried out from the pain of the barbed net.

Trying to catch Horin off-guard the first rider jabbed with his javelin and withdrew, but unfortunately the weapon snagged in the barbs of the net. Horin pulled the net with all his might and lunged, attempting to unbalance his opponent and capitalise on his misfortune. However, the rider was a much greater fighter than he anticipated, instead of attempting to hold onto his javelin and getting pulled off balance he simply let it go and used that hand to grab at Horin's club arm, catching his wrist and preventing him from bringing it down. The rider simultaneously spun backwards, bringing his elbow to Horin's face with immense, crushing speed, knocking the man into oblivion.

Zuriel could see which way this fight had gone but he had expected as much, and he had his own agenda. Jakl and the old man were running to Horin where the rider appeared to have bested him and broken his face, Zuriel left his spot to walk over to Guhl and look down into his eyes. The wretch was still alive! A small and pathetic gurgling sound was all that escaped Guhl's lips as Zuriel put his foot over the dying fools mouth before twisting the Javelin and ripping it from his chest, he watched Guhl's eyes go blank before advancing on the backs of Jakl and the old man.

From here he could see that Horin was broken but not dead and the rider had regained his javelin, threatening to pierce Horin's chest with it if the two men advanced any more. This time Jakl was visibly torn, this was his son not some random merc, he could not get anywhere near the rider and he had no net. The old man however, Zuriel could see was concentrating and watched closely to catch a glimpse of the magic.

There was a translucent, almost transparent gas that resembled heat waves over the ground, hovering around the barbed net beside the rider and Zuriel was happy to have managed to notice it as he waited for it to unleash. Though what he didn't see was the ball of the gas the old man had coalesced around the tip of the riders javelin. In a flash the old man, obviously tired but for some reason, smiling delusionally, used the air to propel the net at the rider, wrapping him up and toppling him to the ground. The rider, knowing the man was attacking him, stabbed downwards with the spear, attempting to drive it into Horin's heart. This was prevented however, as the old man had utilised his cunning to form a solid, spherical stone around the entire head of the spear. A beautiful display of the wily intellect the man possessed.

The old man was fatigued and he sank to his knees before lying down on his back, interlacing his fingers on his chest. There appeared to be blood on his lips and ears, yes, Zuriel could smell it as the old man muttered almost cheerily to himself and fell in and out of consciousness. This was not of concern however, Jakl had run to Horin's side to check if he was still breathing and sat there, cradling him like the pathetic child that he was. Zuriel gave them a wide berth and came up behind, he thrust the Javelin down past the mans sobbing shoulder and through the chest of the unconscious body below him.

The sound horrified Jakl as the javelin slid through his last remaining son, the body of the boy convulsed and gasped before dying in its father's arms while he struggled to understand the cause of it. As he found the javelin with his hands Jakl wrapped them around it and a drawn out yelp escaped him. He spun around, looking up, the distress clearly marked his face, his eyes pouring as he saw Zuriel standing behind him.

"You-?" he gasped as he scrambled backwards, away from his encroaching doom "how?!". Zuriel grinned as he let go of the javelin that had killed both of Jakl's sons and closed in, grabbing the human by the hair as he tried to stand. He flicked the razer open once again pulling back on the man's hair he bared his victims throat. Zuriel swatted away a desperate hand with the back of his as he brought the straight razor to behind the man's ear, "p-please!" Jakl begged. This display was nothing but pathetic in the eyes of his murderer though and they stared face-to-face as his throat was slit ear-to-ear. Jakl would know to the last moment who it was that killed him.

It was done, his captors were dead and his freedom earned. The old man lay in the grass, he seemed to fight with himself about nothing in particular and his heartbeat was far from normal. "It seems the old mans age has indeed caught up with him, the magic was too much. A powerful weapon... too powerful to use unchecked" Zuriel wasn’t sure what to make of that. "Is magic really a good choice for a weapon when you cannot use it to its full potential without destroying yourself?" He could see that the old man was damaged and his mind seemed lost. "I promised you a swift death old man" He stated aloud as he leaned in and cut the man's throat with his straight razor.

-END-

by **Fantasy** on April 2nd, 2014, 7:34 pm

XP Awarded!

Zuriel :

X

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