Disclaimer: I do not own the Spirit Animal Series.
Chapter 1
"A reader lives a thousand
lives before he dies."
-George R.R. Martin
"Tanya! Open the door!"
An irksome voice threads itself into Tanya's unwilling ears. She pressed her head into her plush pillow, fighting the urge to scream.
"Tanya Lin! Get out of your room, now!"
Tanya felt rage overwhelm her controlled demeanour. She couldn't bear it. With an angry growl, she snatched an arrow from the quiver laying by the bed and snapped it; then hurled it at the wall. The arrow quivered as it struck into the solid wall, but it not enough to sate her anger.
Feeling enraged, Tanya gripped her long bow, and smashed it into the edge of her bed. The piece of wood gave a satisfying crack as it split into two. The shattered splinters of wood dug deep into her palm, drawing blood.
"Tanya!" Her mother rapidly knocked on the door. "Open the door! What're you doing in there?"
For a moment, Tanya just stood there, relishing the sight of her wounded palm. Her gaze settled upon the floor. She inhaled deeply, feeling the anger slowly diminish from her body, calming down. Groaning, Tanya plopped down onto the bed.
"Tanya?" There was a hint of exhaustion in her mother's tone now. "Please, just let me dress you and we'll go to the Nectar Ceremony." There was a pause. "I know you're still upset about yesterday, but...just come out of there, and we'll talk."
Tanya stared at the ceiling. She reminisced the scenes of yesterday, where her parents' quiet words flitted in and out of her mind. Clenching her fists, she snapped. "What's the point of attending? So I could just pretend to drink the nectar?"
Sighing, her mother explained. "Honey, consider what would happen if you really did summon a spirit animal? You would be taken away by the Greencloaks, and forced to live a life of war, blood, pain and death...I don't want to lose you like I did your brother. Here, just open the door and we'll talk —"
"I'm sure Lorcan would've preferred his life over this one!" Tanya growled, feeling her anger being fuelled again. She refused to talk to her mother, even if it meant staying here forever, or missing out on the Nectar Ceremony, or falling ill because she didn't drink the Nectar. It gave her a grim sense of satisfaction, knowing how her parents would be blame themselves if she was consumed by the sickness.
The ground suddenly jolted beneath her.
Taken by surprize, Tanya yelped as she fell from the bed, landing painfully onto her shoulder. The entire building shook. Dust billowed down from the ceiling, the ground trembled without control; objects clattered to the floor. Behind a veil of thick dust, Tanya coughed and spluttered. Her eyes were temporarily blinded from the dust, which made the world blurry and unfocused.
She heard a muffled voice come from behind the door. "Tanya! Tanya, answer me!"
"Mom!" She called. The ground jerked again. At that moment, a large piece of wood collapsed from the ceiling, directly in front of the door. Still blinded, Tanya instinctively threw herself backwards to avoid being crushed. The splinters in her hand was painful; she immediately regretted breaking that bow—the pain in her palm was becoming unbearable. Growling in frustration, Tanya gripped her wrists, hard. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes from the dust.
On the other side, her mother sounded frantic. "Try the window! The window, Tanya! Can you hear me? Break the window!"
But there was no need.
The second Tanya whirled around, the window shattered into pieces. The glass fragments flew into thousands of beautiful pieces, before they littered the floor. Tanya stared at the wreckage in her room. Among the scattered glass pieces was a figure of a man.
He sprawled on the floor, molten-red blood trickling down his chin. There was an arrow sticking protruding through his stomach, the tip decorated with feathers that seemed to have been plucked from an eagle. As Tanya's blood ran cold, she watched as the man writhed in pain. His bulbous eyes were open as he gurgled. "C-conquerors! T-they've come to invade Z-Zhong!"
Tanya stared numbly at him, unable to speak or move.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~§~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His enemy collapsed onto the ground, dead.
Lorcan Lin tore his gaze away from the man he killed. He'd had done it many times, of course. Jabbing something sharp into someone, throwing them off something high, slipping poison into their drinks—of course, he did it to stay alive. To prove his loyalty to those vile bastards who call themselves the Conquerors, and gain their trust before he could betray them. But no matter how many times he murdered, Lorcan couldn't help thinking: how many lives has he destroyed? How many of these people, who he'd brutally killed, had families?
His sword was stained red; his armour gleaming under the fierce light of the sun. His forehead was beaded with sweat and there was a nasty cut on his left arm. It seemed to be pretty nasty, as it was bleeding...but not for long. With distaste, Lorcan watched as his wound began to heal—his flesh threading together, until it left a smooth skin without a trace of injury. Instinctively, he ran a finger over the wound, as if still unsure it was completely healed.
He had gained the self-healing power from his spirit animal—Akeyra: a black cobra with profane-black scales and large silver eyes, with blood-red fangs and a purple tongue that darted from her mouth. He was often told that a snake represents healing and life-change, as well as cunningness, speed and steadiness.
Lorcan frowned in annoyance. Where was Akeyra? Why was she never here when he needed her?
Heaving a sigh, Lorcan strode towards the top of the hill, overlooking the bustling city of Jano Rion. The moment he set his eyes on the city, a gasp escaped his mouth. It was worse than he imagined. The elegant Zhongese city was in flames. People were running and screaming and dying. Conquerors were flooding every street, accompanied by the Spirit Animals and brandishing their weapons. He bit down on his lip, the metallic taste of blood flowing into his mouth.
In his anger, Lorcan remembered the beautiful city that was once his hometown; the magnificent bamboo park during the summer, where the sun hit the scintillating waters that had reflected the greenery; the breath-taking scene of trees in autumn, where the leaves matched the champagne-colour of the sunset. But the clearest memory of all: the snowflakes that had drifted down in winter, blanketing Jano Rion in its purity.
Now, it was gone. All gone.
At that, Lorcan swore with great volume and expression. "I will destroy you, Devourer" he growled. "I will make you suffer."
As tears stung his eyes, Lorcan glared back at the city in ruins. Somewhere, among the chaos, was his sister, his mother, his father. He couldn't save the city he loved. He wouldn't make the same mistake with his family.
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Text © 2015 Loralie