The Markings of the Chosen

The Markings of the Chosen

Chapter 1

There weren’t always Dragons in the valley. The flaming scales of the beasts were often discovered in a tarnished state; still hot from the deep fire that settled in their veins. But never the carcass of one so large that it splayed across the ground of our vineyard valley.

I watched it from my high window… waiting for the local scavengers to finish their incessant foraging. Looking for anything valuable to sell on their black-market stalls to the gullible villagers. One stout looking man, loaded the Dragon’s rich, blue blood into his old rusty pale. That he would later claim healed the stomach flu and other gastrointestinal issues. Another tall spindly fellow, was plucking hair from the creature’s lifeless feet, said to keep away the gargantuan deer from farmer’s fields if you nail the strands to the nearest forest exit. Although, most of the brutes were focussed on scrounging the oil slick scales. To be used for armour, walls and roof tiles, anything that could require the tough exterior that a Dragon scale can supply.

They were all too preoccupied by their findings to notice what has left me shivering with fear. My head so thick with confusion and concern that I had to sit myself down on the haybales I rest on. What I had seen, were the wounds that likely killed the great Dragon and plucked it from the skies. The wounds that were ruthlessly bloody but made expertly; in the precise site that would mean a quick and easy kill. Wounds that were deep but clean, sharp, and concise. These wounds were made by something much bigger than the tremendous Dragon that lie dead in the valley. Made by something that was hungry, that had killed to survive.

Screams brought me to attention. Rushing back over to the window, I braced myself against the windowpane as the villagers finally saw the wounds on the creature’s neck. That were once too high up for those on the ground to notice but have now been discovered by those eager enough to grapple up the side of the body. Some drew back in shock, some ran in fear that this monster, whatever it may be, was still lurking in the shadows of the stormy clouds up above.

As if in answer, the thunderous clouds drew closer, shouting at those beneath to take cover before the rain poured. So greatly, that everyone scattered, not a villager in sight after a few minutes of scrambling. That was my que.

I sprang into action. Wrapping my dark cloak around my shoulders, lifting my hood over my eyes; I hurried down the rickety wooden stairs. Halting just outside the front door, I peered around each corner. Clear, I sprinted. The rain against the muddy ground was deafening. I could hear it enveloping me. Tapping the tin and scaled roofs of the huts, hammering on the carriages discarded outside. I rushed closer to the mammoth being, needing to find what I had been looking for these past years. I hadn’t found it yet, after all my searching, one piece of information was still missing from my travels. The details I needed were lacking, and I’m hoping this poor Dragon had my answer.

I was so close. Within the darkness that seeped from the beast. Too distracted for my own good, I was yanked to the side by a large hand and pulled against the bark of a willow tree. One hand holding both of my wrists in a tight hold, the other hand against my mouth, silencing me. Thinking the worst, I attempted to wrestle free. Using what I could of my legs and elbows, I thrashed left and right to escape the man’s grasp. To no avail, he was not letting go. I was quickly spun around to come face to face to who was holding me and pushed back against the tree. Shushing me.

Hearing now, the rustle of the bushes opposite to where I was headed. Very faint under the rain, but the deadly noises of what could be lurking within those bushes interrupted my need for escape. I stilled as large paws came to view, wolves. So vast in size that they could contest to the deer that demolish our fields. It came to mind then, that this unknown man saved me. Those wolves would have teared me in two. I locked eyes with him, willing the confused and threatened look to be replaced with thanks. He slowly removed his hands from my mouth and upper torso, with silent proficiency.

We watched from the shadows casted by our weeping tree, whilst I silently prayed our smell and sound of our breathing was masked by the torrential downpour. The wolves varied in colour and fur. But all three had menacing looks, with strong, powerful legs that could easily crumple a human body. The one on the left had light grey, matted fur. Had easily been in too many scraps with the rest of the pack. The wolf on the right was a rusty brown colour; hints of red that I couldn’t pinpoint if it was coat colour, or dried blood. I didn’t want to get close enough to see clearer… But the middle wolf, clearly the Alpha, was as dark as void. The only sign of life was the deadly shine of his eyes and scar across his face.

All three waited. Looking through the valley for any predators that could somehow match up to their size and power. My breathing halted.

Being too far away to be noticed, the three wolves descended down the valley straight for the carcass. Their mouths already bloody, they tore off flesh at the joint and tugged at the nearest leg. Seeing the lack of hesitation and raw brutality was terrifying. My heart thundered against my chest as I stared, too shocked to move. Waiting to be able to breathe without fear.

The man’s presence was not helpful. Being too close for comfort due to the lack of space between the branches, my breathing would have been scarce with or without the cruel wolves a few hundred yards ahead.

Finally, they tore off the leg. Holding it between all three of them, the wolves ascended back to their den. Most likely to share their prize with their female and young. The man moved away as I let out a breath.

“You’re welcome”, he said. So half-heartedly that I almost stuttered. His voice deep and sturdy, and not lacking in cockiness.

“But I didn’t get the chance to thank—" I started, but quickly stopped. “You could be a bit more polite about it…”

He shook his head lightly, now managing to see his face a bit clearer, I noted his dark brown hair and deep hazel eyes. Slight stubble like he had been having a few rough days…

“Would you have rather me let you run right into their trap? They may be animals, but they have been sat in those bushes waiting for a lonesome villager like you to be alone for just too long. You’d be dead in seconds if you had run much further”.

Perhaps he was right, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I’ll have you know I’m quite capable of looking after myself, I have a knife hidden in my boot for such occasions”. I moved to grab the handle to broaden my point but came about empty.

In the corner of my eyes, I saw the distinctive glint of my trusty knife.

“You mean this?” The mystery man held it up to emphasise. “I stole it out of your boot the second I had you up against that tree. Hence why I had both of your arms in my grasp, just so I could take it from you, should you think to get extra feisty”. He smirked and thrust the handle of the knife back into my palm for safe keeping. Still warm, he had held it for a while then.

“You think you know it all don’t you?” I spoke, beyond shocked. This stranger had no morals and was obviously not the knight-in-shining-armour type.

“Whatever, love” he muttered. Turning away graciously and weaving through the low hanging branches without trouble. Having to follow him, I answered back.

“How did you even know about the knife anyway? The hilt doesn’t show above my boot, and it’s been in there way too long for you to see me put it away.”

Silence.

He kept walking, towards the dead Dragon. The rain pattered off his broad shoulders, instantly soaking his thick hood. I pried my eyes away.

“Will you answer me? Surely I should know how you figured out I had that knife there…” I grabbed hold of his sleeve to stop his fast pace and he whirled around.

“I watched you leave your hovel. You have a very slight limp on that leg, and your right hand absentmindedly kept hovering over that spot. Not seeing any other injuries, I presumed you either had a mangled leg or a weapon. I went for the latter as you showed no signs of pain or annoyance on that pretty little face of yours. Just pure determination”.

I scowled back since this man seems such an expert in the field of violence. However, he continued.

“Now go back to whatever you were doing prior to this little distraction, I promise I won’t get in your way again”.

He stormed away, almost ripping my hand from his sleeve and stood in front of the Dragon’s torso. I huffed. For once I was left speechless. Making my way towards the eyes of the monster, I stole glances his way. This man was tugging off scales with his bare hands; everyone I had seen, had to saw them off with whatever weapons they had to hand.

What sort of person was he? Despite his rude attitude, I quite enjoyed getting on the wrong side of this man.

“How can you do that?” I questioned.

He laughed sarcastically. More of a huff than a laugh. But a laugh none the less. The rain eased up a bit now, but still hard enough to warrant been soaked to the bone.

“Do what?” he so bluntly spoke.

“How can you rip those off with your bare hands? Everyone has to use swords or saws. How is it possible for you to…?” I trailed off, not thinking clearly.

His eyes caught mine.

“Not telling, love. You wouldn’t understand. You were so desperate to get to this Dragon and yet you’re pestering me with useless questions. How futile”.

Right, the Dragon.

Looking away from his gaze, I moved towards the Dragon’s face and lifted up his heavy eyelid. Seeing the iris’s so full of colour but empty of life was a strange sight. But what I was looking for was not here.

“Damn it!” I cursed. Slamming the eyelid back down and rubbing my temples.

I had piqued his interest now, obviously he’s not used to woman cursing around him. Fool. I continued rubbing my temples, closing my eyes, I sighed through my nose.

“You’re searching for the Markings?” He proclaimed.

I spun around to face him, only to find him a step beside me.

“How on earth did you know about those? I’ve been searching for a long time and haven’t had any luck”. How could he have known? My grandmother once told me only a select few were capable of finding these Markings, she didn’t tell me how many. Or how they were picked. Hell, I didn’t know why I was picked.

He stared deeply.

“How do you know about them girl? They are dangerous things. Not to be messed with. You can’t go playing around with things you don’t know of!” I didn’t answer. Didn’t want to… no one knows about my final words with my grandmother; the way my world changed after that fateful night. “It’s easier to answer me, love. These things are dangerous. Plus, you’re looking in the wrong place…”

“Excuse me… The wrong place? I was told that these Markings had been etched into the eyelids of sacred creatures.” I said, puzzled.

He laughed, “So it’s that easy to trick information out of you? I must remember that for later…”

I furrowed my brow, “Later?” I even laughed back, “There won’t be a ‘later’, and tell me; if I have been looking in the wrong place, then where should I be looking?”

Mystery Man hummed to himself, scratching the back of his head absentmindedly. “I don’t know your intentions with finding these Markings, so I won’t tell you much. But what I will say, is that all the Markings have been found already.” I saw a flash of sadness cover his eyes, ever so slightly. But it was gone as soon as it arrived. I went to speak before he locked eyes with me, halting me in place. “They’re kept locked away at a Kingdom south of here, at the King’s castle. I have been travelling from the North to his Kingdom to get those Markings out of his filthy hands.”

I fumbled with my sleeve, something I did whilst thinking of what to say.

“Let me come with you.” I declared. “Please.”

He shook his head at me, “No way in hell. I do not know your intentions with these Markings and I’m not about to start trusting every damsel in distress that walks my way.” No room for arguments… Apart from the room I am about to forcefully make.

“Listen to me,” I stepped closer to his face to make my point. “One, I am not a damsel in distress. Two, you can trust me. I… My grandmother told me I was tasked with finding these Markings in order to complete something very important.” His eyes bulged slightly, but again; any sign of emotion was voided quickly. “I don’t know much about it; all I know is… that was the last time I spoke to my grandmother so I cannot ask her for any more information.” I looked down, hiding the slight shakes that occur when I think about that night two years ago. The heat of the fire and screams of the village seem all too familiar. “My grandmother told me I was Chosen. So, I have spent the better part of two years going between villages and ancient libraries to find information on these Markings.”

He stared at me. Too deep within his own thoughts to even answer me. He huffed a laugh and shook his head again, as if in disbelief. “You have no idea who you a—” he started but stopped, as he noticed me shaking from the cold and wet of the rain. “Let’s go inside your hovel. You’re cold.” He trudged past me. Boots slapping against the thick mud.

For once, I agreed. I didn’t care that I would be letting a stranger into my place of rest; or that I had just spoke about my search for the Markings and my late grandmother to someone who didn’t even know my name. I needed warmth and answers. But as he strode in front of me, I managed to mutter out a few words through my shame.

“It’s not a hovel.”

The candle flame lit, illuminating the dank space of the attic. Never before had I been so conscious about this dark space where I have resided for the past month, the longest I had stayed in one space for two years… I could feel his curious eyes wandering around the small area, no doubt calling it a hovel in his mind. From the damp, wooden walls to the cracks in the ceiling from the bodged job the owners did of patching it up with Dragon scales. The silence was suffocating, making me look around the room myself; taking in the strews of hay on the floor, the two bales I had used to make myself an odd nest to sleep in, a small cupboard with necessities I used to relieve myself every day, and a small side table that was more like a wooden stool. On the stool were two other knives, for protection, a lump of stale bread and an old cup of water.

At last, Mystery man chimed in. “How depressing. This is definitely classed as a hovel.” Scratching the back of his head again, he took off his sodden cloak and hung it over the beams of the ceiling. I did the same, suddenly aware of how my clothes clung to me as they were soaked with rainwater. He coughed, cleared his throat a bit and looked down; “When did your grandmother tell you about the Markings?”

Deciding to speak about my misfortune to a stranger was certainly odd, but I suppose maybe this would be a good thing… he does seem to know a lot about these Markings, maybe he can help me. Maybe we can help each other. I can’t help but want to trust this brooding oaf more than I usually trust others, which was always minimal. Taking a small breath, I spoke.

“Just over two years ago, my village was ravaged by pirates. We lived at a seaside town with many of our villagers living off the sea to get by. They started with the huts, burning down everything they could see, setting even women and children ablaze… they took anything of value including food, drink, and clothing. Absolutely everything.” I tried slowly my breathing, noticing the quickening of my heart, I used my breathing techniques to slow my pulse. “Our estate was last; I was living just with my grandmother at the time. My other family members dying of illness or murder. I had tried to pull my grandmother out of the house to run away before…” I sighed. Rubbing my temples, a slight headache was growing after reliving this night.

“You don’t have to—” He started.

I shook my head, “it’s okay… I tried getting her out the house, but she wouldn’t leave. She got to her safe and put all her money, jewels and this pendent in a bag for me. She kept saying that this is her last day, that she ends here. I couldn’t understand her properly, she was so hasty. She thrust the bag in my hands and told me that I have been Chosen, for a very long time, and that I must find all the Markings before others do.

“I kept asking her, ‘What are you saying? Why wait until now to tell me?’ I was asking what the Markings were, and ‘Why me? Why have I been Chosen for this?’ But she didn’t answer. I was about to grab her and force her out of our house but that’s when the pirates burst through the door. My grandmother shoved the bag into my hands and told me to ‘Run, don’t look back. Find the Markings, you have been Chosen, just go!’

“The fire had spread so only one pirate could get into the room, he stabbed her. Right in front of me… Just took her life like it was nothing. I wouldn’t have run, I would have fought, but the look in her eyes scared me so much, they had no fear in them. Like she knew this day was coming. So, I broke the window and ran as fast as I could. Holding the bag, not daring to look into it until I had found somewhere safe.

“For two years I have been searching for anything I knew about these Markings, and about being Chosen. But barely anything. I once found this pale book with charred paper edges like someone had tried to burn it. It said that ‘Sacred Markings are found in Sacred Creatures. Look where they see, and you shall find what you seek’.” I pulled out the book from under the hay bale. A4 in size, cream leather bound, with pale yellow pages. All edges were still black and golden from the supposed fire that attempted to burn the book to ash. Mystery Man held the book in his hands, turning it about for a while then opened at the page I had bookmarked. Where it said the words I had read.

“Do you know where this book is from, girl?” He asked, gentle but firm.

“Not originally, I found it in a dark corner of an old library on my travel here.” I replied, not fully knowing what his reply was going to be.

He sighed through his nose slightly, “It’s from another realm. Well, this realm technically, but its hidden. It’s Fae, love. Fae are beings that are full of power and—”

“I know what Fae are. They’re fake. Not real. At least they haven’t been for a very, very long time.” I laughed, disbelieving that this strange man thinks this book was from some other realm. “If its from some ‘Fae Realm’, then how on earth is it here?”

He didn’t answer.

“Listen, you don’t need to tell me. Obviously you think I’m some stupid girl for trying to get me to believe that they’re alive and in another Realm—”

“I put the book here. It’s my family’s book, passed down generations and used to record our findings of the Markings and their whereabouts. After finding out that the King down South has found each one and had kept them locked away, I burnt the book in anger and walked away. At least I thought I had burnt it.” He played with a loose string on his sleeve, I hadn’t even noticed that he lit a fire in the furnace as our clothes were now starting to dry.

“The book is yours? Someone must have picked it up and put it in the library thinking it belonged there… it certainly stuck out like a sore thumb” I mumbled, confused about this new information. “Please, don’t tell me anything else yet. No more information for tonight, I need to process everything.”

“But you’re… don’t worry. I understand, it must be hard coming to terms with everything. But believe me, the Fae are real. They’re in the hidden Realms of the North, waiting.”

Silence settled around us for a short while. I sat listening to the crackle of the hearth that was slowly warming our bones. Against the lighting of the sunset and fire, I couldn’t help but steal a quick glance at Mystery Man’s face… definitely still handsome through the stress of the new information I have just heard. I thought I’d might be in shock; I should have more of a reaction to this new knowledge. Closing my eyes, sleep beckoning me with its sultry fingers. But I opened my eyes and looked at the man again.

“Fallon.” I pushed my hand out for him to shake. “Nice to meet you…” Trailing off, hoping he’d meet me halfway.

He did. “Zephryer.” The confused look on my face must have made him speak; “It originates from Zephyr of West Wind… my mother was cruel to change my name so slightly” he joked. “Get some sleep. We leave at dawn.”

“Where to?”

“The King’s Kingdom down South. We are going to get those Markings back and complete our purpose.”