What the Hunter Found

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EquinoxSol

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Oliver kept low to the ground, the shrubs and fallen leaves giving him cover. The deer stood by the creek, drinking from it, completely unaware of the hunter. Nocking an arrow, he took a breath, pulling the string back. As he let his breath out, he let go of the string. The arrow flew from the bow, and...

...Missed. As it embedded itself in a nearby tree, startling the deer, Oliver stood, cursing loudly. Glancing up, guessing the time by the light that still remained, he determined that he should probably start heading back for home, lest he be caught outside during the night. There wasn't much danger at night, it was just cold, and Oliver didn't like the cold. Even now, snow was just beginning to fall, and was sticking, too.

"Damn," Oliver muttered. "That was probably the last deer of the season..." Wondering how in the world he would make it through the winter, he slung his bow over his shoulder, deciding that his arrow wasn't worth getting back.

Frowning, he turned, walking home, suddenly feeling uneasy in the growing twilight.
 
Alyss stumbled through the woods, her breathing ragged and heavy, struggling to breath in the crisp winter air. She was bloodied, bruised, and battered, and nearly unconscious. She had deep sword slashes all over her body, a knife wound in her back, and an arrowhead embedded in her thigh. She'd been attacked. She held a snapped bow in her right hand, and had an empty quiver of arrows on her back. She had a broken sword in her sword belt, and a bent dagger. Blood dripped from a gash on her cheek, staining the snowy ground crimson.

She tripped, grabbing onto a tree for support, leaving a bloody handprint behind. She wasn't going to last much longer, and she knew it. She limped a few more feet in the now ankle-deep snow, and then, with a groan, collapsed face-first, blood pooling around her onto the snow.
 
Oliver had been walking back towards home, the walls of the city coming into view. Pulling his cloak further around him, shivering in the cold as his breath fogged before his eyes. As he was walking, he heard a muffled crunch, like something had fallen onto the snow. Spinning, it took Oliver all of a second to get an arrow nocked. Walking towards the sound slowly, making sure to be as quiet as he could, not wanting to startle whatever it was, in case it was game.

After sliding around a tree, Oliver's mouth fell open at what he saw. It was a girl, covered in blood, facedown in the snow. Throwing his arrow down, but slinging his bow over a shoulder, he knelt by her side, asking her, "Who are you? Are you alright?" He didn't recognie her, something that was unusual in this city.

When she didn't respond, he moved his hand to a spot on her neck, feeling for a heartbeat. It was there, but very faint. Getting his hands underneath her body, he picked her up. Grunting at the new weight, he moved as fast as he could towards the city, wanting her to awaken next to a warm fire and not out here, where she would probably freeze to death. Stopping once to catch his breath, he took off his cloak, placing it over her so she wasn't quite as cold. "Don't die," he muttered, right before he began moving again.
 
Right before she fainted, Alyss knew she was going to die. If she didn't die from blood loss, she would freeze to death. She was a goner. Her wounds were too serious, she was out of energy, her weapons were useless, and there was nobody around to help. At least, that's what she thought. In her unconscious state, she could still sort-of tell what was going on around her - she heard a voice speaking, though the words were intelligible, and felt strong arms lifting her from the ground. After a few seconds, minutes, hours - she wasn't sure - she forced her eyes to open.
 
He carried the girl all the way to his house, which was in an upper-class section of his hometown, White's Hold. Once there, he got her up the stairs to his third-floor's guest bedroom. Though he was no lord or knight, Oliver was born of high blood, and had to do little to nothing at the moment in order to continue living in his home and doing what he did.

By the time he had set her down on the bed in the guest room, he was breathing heavily. Falling into a chair for a few minutes, he caught his breath before standing once more. Rushing to his bedroom, he took an old pair of pants that he hadn't worn in a while. With his hunting knife, he cut it into strips that he would use for bandages for her.

When he returned to the guest room, her eyes were open. "You're alive..." he said, bewildered. He was almost certain that she was already dead. "Here, I'll dress your wounds," he continued, moving to the bedside.
 
When she awoke, she was startled to find that she was in somebody's room, instead of lying on the forest floor. Her first thought was that she'd died and gone to heaven, but then the pain hit her like a fully-grown bear, and she knew she hadn't died. Not yet, anyways.

She noticed a man walk into the room, and, sounding slightly surprised, he said, "You're alive!" All she could do was give him a weak thumbs up, without even lifting her arm up - anything else took too much energy. When he said he'd dress her wounds, she gave him another thumbs up, but then closed her eyes, exhausted. Normally, she wouldn't have trusted a stranger to take care of her like this - wouldn't have even trusted some of her friends - but in the current circumstances, she had no choice in the matter. Anyways, she wanted to live - for that to happen, she had to trust him, trust-issues or not.
 
Gingerly, Oliver began dressing her wounds, hoping, praying that she wouldn't get an infection. He didn't have the supplies for that, and he knew he wouldn't have to stomach to amputate anything, if needed. At one point, he realized that he would have to take off her shirt to get to the dagger wound in her back, and a light blush came to his cheeks.

"Hope you don't mind," he told her as he turned her over carefully, before using his dagger to cut away her shirt. Wincing as he peeled off the back of her shirt, he frowned when he saw the wound. "Okay," he muttered, already dressing the wound with his makeshift bandages.

At least two hours passed before he had bandaged all her wounds, using up all the bandages he had made. Practically collapsing into his chair, he sighed heavily. "You still alive?" he asked in the rapidly darkening light of the room. "I'll get some candles," he told her, before leaving once more, to search for candles within his kitchen.
 
After Alyss was bandaged up, she relaxed. Now that she had stopped bleeding out, she knew she could pull through. She knew it. But something was wrong... She could feel it in the corner of her mind, and she knew it was important, and that it was news that she had to share immediately... But what was it?

Her eyes suddenly opened as she felt a rush of fear flow through her body. It was important, very important... But why couldn't she remember? Her breathing became quick and shallow as she started to panic. What was it? What was it? She cursed to herself mentally. Why couldn't she remember?
 
As Oliver returned with the candles, one already lit, he was surprised to hear how quick the girl was breathing. Setting the candle down on a nightstand, he went to her side, asking, "What is it?" Pulling her into his arms, in case she had started shaking, he repeated his question, concern in his eyes. He couldn't help but be worried; after taking care of someone like that, one tended to be worried at the slightest thing.

When he didn't feel her shaking, he let go of her, looking to her with worried grey eyes.
 
She looked at him, struggling to speak. Her violet eyes were wide, and they were fearful.

"B-Bad news," she managed to stutter. "B-But, I can't re-remember..." She shudders, strands of her dark brown hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. "S-something to do with..." She shakes her head, trying to remember. "It was important..." Suddenly she gasped.

"Damn. We're in trouble."
 
Oliver couldn't help but look to her in confusion, not understanding much of what she was saying. When she said that they were in trouble, he furrowed his dark eyebrows before asking, "What? What is it?" Suddenly, he realized something. He had just met this girl. He didn't even know her name, and yet here he was, listening to some dark prophecy of danger. From his perspective, he was acting pretty crazy. Frowning, he shook away the feeling, deciding that he would deal with them later.
 
Before Alyss answered, she hissed a stream of curse words in a different language. After a few seconds of heavy cursing, she finally calmed down enough to speak.

"I better start from the beginning," she said, taking a deep breath. "Back in the dark ages, a new race of elves was... created. They were an evil race, a dark race. Now, they're called Dusk Elves." She shuddered. "They're corrupted creatures - created from normal elves tortured so much until they're unrecognizable - physically and mentally." She took a shaky breath.

"Recently, over the last six or seven months, we've realized that adult elves, mostly males, have been disappearing from my kingdom of Thysthas. We would send out scouting parties to try and find the source of the disappearances, but the search parties never came back." She closed her eyes for a moment, sighing. "We suspected somebody was creating Dusk Elves, but we had no proof. That is, until a few days ago. Two or three nights ago, Thysthas was attacked by an army of Dusk Elves - we were overrun. There were too many of them." She shivers, taking a quivery breath. She continues to speak, a lone tear tracing down her cheek.

"I watched elves get slaughtered before my very eyes. Friends, family, children... I don't know how many survivors there are. I barely escaped with my life." She laughed bitterly. "When you found me, I'm surprised I wasn't already dead. I'd been wandering around, praying I'd make it to this city for two days, praying I'd be able to find someone." She takes another deep breath. "And now here's my news," she pauses, and then says, "The Dusk Elves are on the move. They plan to attack here at the end of the month."
 
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"They won't get in," Oliver told her firmly, nodding as if to affirm that. "White's Hold has stood against huge armies, I think we can handle a few of these 'Dusk Elves'. Besides, White's Hold has one of the strongest garrisons in the realm. We'll never fall." He stood up. "I've got to get some rest...I think you should, too. Do you want anything? I have some food, but I don't think I have anything for the pain or to help you sleep. Sorry." After listening to her answer, he nodded, before walking out of the room, getting what she wanted, if it was anything, and then going to his own room.

Changing into some clean clothes, he practically collapsed onto his bed, unbelievably tired from the day's events.
 
Alyss lay awake, staring at the ceiling for hours before she finally drifted off to sleep. When she did, she had nightmares. First, she was in the forest again, on the run, half-dead and delusional. But this was different. There were shadows - shadows of people drifting throughout the trees, laughing at her, mocking her. There was blood everywhere - the snow was covered with it, the trees - then the dream changed.

She was back in her kingdom of Thysthas, when the Dusk Elves had attacked. At the time, Alyss had been training in the stadium - sparring with her friend, Aralynn. Alyss had been just about to win, when the sound of an explosion and screams had interrupted them. They both sheathed their weapons instantly, grabbing their bows and running outside. Half the city was on fire, and Dusk Elves were swarming everywhere, killing everything in its path. The Thysthasian army had attempted to drive them off, but there were too many.

The Dusk Elves faces were terrifying, in a word. Instead of looking like a normal elf like Alyss, Aralynn, or another citizen, they were... different. Their skin was ashy gray, and their eyes were white, pupil, iris and all. And their faces... they were contorted. Half the city was on fire, and people were dying before the girls' eyes. So they fought.

Alyss and Aralynn shot arrow after arrow into the Dusk Elves' army, taking out as many as the could. When they ran out of arrows, the slung their bows over their shoulders and fought hand-to-hand. Somewhere in the fray, Aralynn and Alyss were separated. Alyss remembered being terrified for her friend's life. That's when she had taken the knife to the back. She had immediately turned around after taking the wound, and cracked her bow over the elf's head. It had knocked the Dusk Elf out, but opened an opportunity for another Dusk Elf to attack. It had attacked her ferociously, and she barely managed to kill it. After that, everything started going downhill. Her weapons had broken, she'd seen Aralynn run down with evil elves, and she'd been attacked from all sides until she was nearly unconscious. Finally, she'd managed to stumble away from the burning kingdom of Thysthas, bleeding and delirious, watching her home burning in the distance.

She woke up crying.
 
Oliver slept soundly, until his pleasant dreams were interrupted by the sound of crying. Grumbling softly at being awoken, he quickly realized who was crying. Eyes flying wide, he jumped out of bed, rushing to her room. "Are you okay?" he immediately asked, lighting a candle as he struggled to see her face.

Once a light was struck, he went to her side, kneeling down next to her. "What is it? Do your wounds hurt?" Oliver rarely dealt with women of any kind, and he was unsure of how to comfort her. Outside the window, he could see a blizzard blowing, the white snow sticking to the windowpane, dusting the edges with a white. He hoped that his door wouldn't be buried like it was that winter a few years ago, where he had needed to jump out his second story window and dig out his door.

"Were you cold or something? Want me to move you downstairs and put a fire in the fireplace? I could do that..."
 
She shook her head, quickly wiping the tears from her damp face with the back of her hand. "N-No, I'm fine. Sorry for waking you. Bad dream is all," She managed to say. "Thank you," she said, "for all you've done for me. I'll never be able to repay you enough." She gave a slight smile, and it brightened up her whole face. "I don't believe I caught your name."
 
Oliver was glad when she stopped crying. When he had lived with his family as a boy, his younger sisters all knew that if they cried, he would give them anything. He still had a bit of that weakness in him, but it was nowhere near his years as a young boy. Returning her smile, he said, "It's Oliver. Oliver Knight. What about you...? I only know that I found you bleeding in the forest, nothing more..."
 
"Alyss," she responded. "Alyss Frost." Now that she'd rested up a bit, she didn't look nearly as bad as she did in the forest. A bit of color had returned to her face, and she was breathing normally and steadily now. She glanced out the window, at the raging blizzard. "I won't keep you up any longer," she said softly. "I'm sorry for waking you."
 
"It's fine," Oliver brushed it off, letting a smile cross his face. "Sleep well...I'll probably bring you breakfast in the morning, if you want, so don't try to get up or anything. I don't want your wounds to reopen." Leaving her room, he returned to his own, falling asleep almost as soon as he lied down on his bed.
 
Alyss lay awake for the rest of the night. She'd tried to go back to sleep, but the nightmares would return. And her wounds hurt, the knife wound in her back most of all. To try and alleviate the pain, she rolled over on her stomach to lift some of the pressure off, but it didn't do much good. She sighed, and prepared herself for a long night.
 
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