The Huntsman of Adamos (Quartet)- draft
SHINING

CH SHINING

Yurieth moved so swiftly away from the battle sight it made Fleur dizzy, her hands were slipping but he held her firmly with one arm crushing her against his back as he leapt and bounded through the canopy of the forest. She closed her eyes and made herself hold on. She could still feel the undead below them and knew they could not stop for her to rest, so she forced the last of her strength into her hands and arms. She could feel his heartbeat against her wrist. It seemed too soon, when she couldn’t hold on any longer.

“Yuri, stop,” she whispered.

Leaping down to the ground, he paused and she dropped from his back. She wavered unsteadily, almost falling. He caught her in his arms.

“We’re clear of the creatures. I...I just I need a...m- moment... I used too m-much magic.”

His huntsman senses told him her health and strength had been reduced by more than half in the battle. She had no wounds, she did not bleed, but she felt wounded. She looked up at him and blinked. The darken scar lines that came from being near the creature had faded.

“I’m sorry but I’m going to faint.” And she did.

Carefully, he lifted her into his arms, she was so petite and lightweight, it was like carrying a sleeping child as he walked through the night. Once they were out of the forest, he jogged up a little-known path into the mountains. Finally, reaching a secret alpine valley, he wrapped her in his winter long-coat and watched her sleep. The moonlight made her skin and her oracle stone glow slightly. He brushed his fingertips over the swirling scars left by the shadow attack the day she arrived. If he had not known the horror of how they were created he would have thought her vain to have such beautiful markings added to her skin. That they were battle scars made them even more lovely to him.

Wrapped in his winter-whites made her seem like a creature from an ethereal or twilight realms, with the hood framing her face and pale hair. More enchanting was that she smelled of climbing flowers and citrus wood, the smell of the tropical forest of his childhood. A time when he had been happy, before he found out he would not be an oracle as his parents were. His fingers touched the stone she wore. It felt as familiar to him as his favorite knife and again he wondered why his parents had given her it, instead giving her one of her own. He was surprised to feel that it had been fractured and repaired. He wondered what attack she had faced to shatter the focal point of her power.

Fleur shivered and he forced himself to leave her side to build a fire and set up a shelter. He came here at least once a year and still had a stack of firewood and shelter poles next to a group of monoliths. He found his way to his camping place out of habit. Laying the beams and tarp, he had shelter placed over her then sat down against the rock wall enjoying the warmth. When she shivered again under his only blanket, and he began arguing with himself about lying next to her. His rational side won, and he found himself doing exactly what he didn’t want to do to keep her warm. In her sleep, she turned away from the fire and snuggled into his shoulder. He knew her strength would be restored by morning, he felt it. But right now, she was small and cold and vulnerable, in spite of her amazing power, she needed him.

She needed him to be strong, to be a warrior and her protector. He knew she would not criticize him for being a huntsman because she was a warrior in her own way. The pull he felt toward her wracked him with guilty feelings. He did not want to sink into dishonor and betray his brother who wasn’t even born yet by coveting his wife, but his heart was soon beating in rhythm with hers. He felt a tide of emotions strange and unfamiliar, they pulled at him like the eddies of a white-water rapids, exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. He did not want to be afraid of being drowned, so he pushed his fear away with a prayer that he was not going to act with dishonor.

“I love you,” He whispered against the hood she wore. To his surprise she murmured back in her sleep.

“I love you too.”

He straightened her blanket and fell asleep, feeling peaceful but conflicted. That night he dreamed, not of the war or the death of his family but of her. They were swimming in a warm sea and her hair was a rich chestnut color instead of pale. There was a young blond boy with his father Adamos’ coloring and his mother Yllumina’s eyes. In the dream, Yurieth realized this was his unborn brother’s son. The one he had seen in her jumbled memories. He felt completely contented while sharing the evening tide with them. Other images came and went, as he traveled the dreamscape, he realized he was dreaming her happier memories. The feeling from the dream was not one he had felt since long before Willow and Lily had died. It was happiness, pure and simple happiness. Warm and welcoming like springtime in the highest coldest mountains.

Fleur woke up feeling warm and safe. She hadn’t felt this way since Kaleth died, and her heart ached a little at the memory of their last moments together. Standing the place between the living and the celestial, he had kissed her gently and told her she would find love again in the place she least expected it. She had certainly not expected it to be with Kaleth’s elder brother during the war to save everything, so she had pushed it away and then it had become friendship, but now the feelings were back and without the guilt she felt then.

Tilting her head back, she looked up at Yurieth’s face. He looked so different here. His scars were almost as bad as hers, but they gave him a rugged, slightly dangerous handsomeness. She wondered briefly how he felt about not having them in the future. He made the slight snoring sound he only made when deeply asleep and she was glad he was resting. She carefully extracted herself from his arms and covered him with the blanket he had placed over her.

Fleur was warm enough wearing his winter coat; it went almost to her ankles. She found a fire and added wood from the pile and dug through his pack for the teapot he always carried. In her time, it was more a coffee pot than one for tea, but coffee didn’t grow on this world, not yet. She could hear water nearby and walked carefully toward it. As the sun rose, she noticed there were patches of white in the green grass, bending down she picked a few flowers from the clump.

She heard a sound just as she finished filling the teapot in a small stream. She could sense a creeping forest guardian nearby. The giant feathered serpents called Quetzal in her time, protected the landscape from abuse and threats, so she glowed with love and serenity as her healer daughter had learned to do as a small child. She held out her hand and waited. Soon, it butted her hand with its head.

As she rubbed its cheek, she talked to it in a soft voice, “I like your meadow. Thank you for the flowers.” It made a slight hissing exhale, bobbed its head, and slithered away.

Yurieth relaxed his bow. The creature had left her unharmed, so he would not kill it. Huntsmen and Quetza Forest Spirits had a healthy, but fragile respect for each other and once one decided a person was the enemy of the forest, the entirety of their kind would seek to harm that person if they entered the forest.

Fleur was moving carefully back toward him. He could tell she was following the sound of the fire. She placed his kettle over the coals wishing she hadn’t lost her pack and its coffee stash.

“Good Morning,” Yurieth greeted her.

She smiled beautifully, “Good morning, I got the water for the tea.” Holding out her flowers, she asked, “What are these?”

“They are simple called Alpenfleur.”

“Ah, so this is the flower Mina picked for my name, this is fleur,” she responded sitting next to him.

“It means small flower, like you.” He chuckled when she blushed, so he changed the subject, “How did you do that earlier?”

“I just listened to the water, then followed the heat of the fire back.” She shrugged as if it was obvious.

“No, with the spirit of the meadows and forest?” He watched her frown slightly then understand.

“Oh, with the quetzal? I shined it. Quetzals need love too. My daughter taught me how to do it, but it doesn’t work with all hostile creatures,” she explained.

“Shined? I have never heard of that use of magic. How do you shine something?” He was so curious, he had never met anyone who used magic like she did, as casually and comfortably as breathing.

Fleur held out her hand and he took it. She glowed warm and soft, and he could feel her power wrapping around him, soothing him, it was like love was embracing him with velvet wings.

Eyes closed, he a leaned over and almost kissed her, instead he breathed out a whispered plea. “Please, stop.”

He felt her breath on his lips as she spoke, “It is all I have to give you, my love, healing your heart is my only desire, but as you wish...” She rose and moved away from him and sat by the fire.

Yurieth took several calming breaths, he had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to kiss her a moment ago and he wondered belatedly if shining was something like siren’s magic. Fleur’s head jerked in the direction of the path from the forest.

“Hello, Regis.” She called out, and his brother Huntsman’s laughter echoed back to them.

“She is harder to sneak up on than you, brother,” Regis declared.

“That is because you stomp like a mammoth of the western plains,” Yurieth retorted dryly. He was slightly jealous over the end of his time alone with Fleur. She blinked in his direction too innocently.

“You think so, Yuri? I thought it was because he smelled like one...” Fleur giggled as Regis roared with laughter.

“My lady, it is good to see you again,” Regis declared and she rewarded him with a beautiful smile.

“It is good to hear you, and smell you, Huntsman Regis,” She teased.

Regis chuckled, “Lady Fleur is definitely part of my family, your family is too serious for someone with her lovely humor.”

She tipped her head at Regis, “We had a saying on the world I grew up on , “If you aren’t teased, you aren’t loved.”

“That sounds like something my family lives by,” Regis responded. To Yurieth he said, “You should take lessons.”

Regis chuckled at the blank dead look Yurieth gave him, then added. “I brought a flyer. The King is claiming he did not sign the order giving Lord Crux the authority to attack the House of Adamos, and your mother had a fit about her blind novice oracle being terrorized by the attack.” Regis announced. “King Xerxes wants this new oracle brought to the City of the Kings... tomorrow. And presented to the court at the end of the celebration.”

“No,” Yurieth and Fleur said at the same time.

“You would refuse the king?” Regis asked calmly.

“Yes,” Fleur answered in a cold tone, “I need time to ‘recover’ from my ordeal. I am blind, and small, and appear very fragile. My delicate heart isn’t made for the excitement of court life.”

“My lady, you are not fragile, and I doubt you have a delicate heart. The guardsmen you saved are talking quite excitedly about the shadow creature you killed, even if no one in the higher ranks believes them,” Regis pointed out as he and Yurieth disassembled the shelter.

Fleur shrugged and gave him a calculating smile, “I’m not lying, I am fragile looking, everyone has always said so. It’s my size. And my heart hates court life and the whole eligible royals crap.”

“If my fragile lady will allow me, I would carry you down to the ravine floor when I hid the flyer my father sent me in.” Regis offered his arm and Fleur took it.

“Is there water in the floor of the ravine?” Fleur asked.

“No, my lady,” Regis answered.

“Then just show me where to jump off. It will be faster if we let gravity do the work,” she announced calmly.

Regis looked at Yurieth over her head. Both shared and expression of disbelief.

“Uh, the cliff is straight ahead, my lady, but I don’t think...” Yurieth started, “Fleur, stop.”

He shouted as she bolted ahead of them. Reaching the precipice edge, she ran out onto the air, with tiny white glyphs appearing under her feet like stepping stones. Giggling, she turned to face them.

“Last one down, rides on top. Jump, I’ll catch us.” She promised, holding out her hands to them.

Yurieth shook his head, but Regis leapt out and she caught his hand. They fell side by side toward the ravine floor, suddenly there was a brilliant flash of oracle light and it appeared that Regis and Fleur were walking down steps made of the strange glowing ovals. Yurieth could only gape. He had seen mages use shield glyphs but never had he seen them the size of a stepping stone nor appearing at will without incantations or enchanted items. He found himself wondering once again who and what this oracle was.

Yurieth watched Regis put Fleur inside.

’You should have jumped too. That was amazing. Is that what is feels like to fall as far as you do? Regis said to Yurieth’s mind.

‘I would not know I have never fallen that far. How did she do it?’

‘I do not know, but it was like being caught and lifted at the same time, then we just stepped down the last three steps. She says it cannot be done over water, but if she is boosted into the air she can catch herself and float.’ Regis sounded awed.

‘Ask her if I jump, can she catch me?’ Yurieth waited.

‘She says no, she has to be touching you.’ Then Regis chuckled.

‘What did she say?’ Yurieth demanded.

‘He who hesitates is lost or rather left behind. She thinks we should make you walk back for being a doubter.’

‘I am really starting to hate her,’ Yurieth growled, then leaped to the top of the flyer and let himself in the top hatch.

‘Really brother? Because I think she is perfect for you.’ Regis taunted as Yurieth secured his pack and bow.

“If you want to play matchmaker, then you should have been an oracle,′ Yurieth said to Regis’ mind.

“Um, those are my jobs.” Fleur said out loud when Yurieth walked into the pilot’s compartment.

“What are your jobs?” Yurieth asked annoyed.

“Being an Oracle and Matchmaking, I am actually quite good at it. I have only had two failures in 500 years.” Suddenly she frowned, as if saddened. “They were both my friends. They had chemistry, but they were assassins on opposite sides of the war. It broke both their hearts and mine in those last moments. One had to kill the other.”

“That is a terrible tale, Lady Fleur. I am sorry for your sorrow,” Regis said sincerely.

“In a war, there are two sides and sometimes love isn’t enough when honor is at stake,” she responded and turned to look at Yurieth. “Isn’t that true?”

Yurieth had the bizarre feeling that she was talking about him, but he answered his belief truthfully. “It is truth, love is not enough to forego honor.”

Suddenly, she looked as if he had wounded her, and she turned back to face forward, silently staring out a window she could not see beyond. He wondered again what she wasn’t telling him.

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