A/N: Ok this one is a little longer than the last one bc I decided to add a little bit more about Pyre's family and I wanted to add more about Dommorth. Anyhoo...enjoy :)

CHAPTER 2

It was long after dawn before Pyre woke. The warm mid-day sun beat down on her body, covering her like a blanket. She blinked a couple times, letting her eyes adjust to the light. She stretched her aching body. She had run all night until she was exhausted, pushing her body until it collapsed. She had tried to get as far away from those men as she could. She didn't understand why they would be after her, and honestly she didn't want to think about it. They did not look friendly. She shook her head to clear it. She would think about those guys later.

Pyre pushed herself up off the uncomfortable ground and grabbed her bow. She stretched once more, pulled her bow over her shoulders and headed south. As she walked, Pyre tried to focus her mind on the forest again, listening for any sounds of animals she could possibly bring to her family. Ever since her father had been killed, she was the best hunter of Clomoke, yet even these days she couldn't find anything. She heard water running to the east and headed in that direction, realizing she was parched. She couldn't focus now; all she could think about was the burning in her throat.

She dropped everything once she reached the stream, filling her hands with water and gulping it down. She splashed her face, trying to wake herself up. Pyre looked up and noticed a large buck on the other side of the water, drinking also. It looked up at her and she stayed perfectly still; this was her chance. After a moment, the buck went back to drinking and Pyre grabbed her bow and got an arrow ready; at least she had been smart enough to grab those. She let the arrow fly and hit it in the animal's shoulder. Growling, Pyre nocked another arrow and shot again, but the buck had already begun running away.

Cursing loudly, Pyre splashed through the water, chasing after her prey. She could hear it faintly ahead of her, dodging through the crowded forest. The trees blew past her in a brown and green blur, but she never collided with anything. Pyre could barely feel the rocks and twigs beneath her feet as she bolted after the injured animal. Her lungs and chest screamed with pain and her aching body urged her to rest, but she pushed on, knowing this may be her last chance. She had missed the deer yesterday; she couldn't lose this one too.

Pyre slowed to a jog to try and listen for the buck, but could hear nothing of the animal. She pushed her sense out as far as she could but still could hear nothing. She stopped and closed her eyes, praying for just the smallest sound and still nothing. Angry tears threatened to pour down her face in frustration. She took a deep breath to calm herself and a familiar scent filled her nostrils. She opened her eyes and looked around in confusion. It smelt like something burning, as though there was a fire nearby. She followed her nose to the smell. Slowly, she crept through the forest, careful not to make a sound; she did not want another encounter with the soldiers. She could hear a fire crackling not far in front of her; and what sounded like a man humming. Edging up to a tree, she peeked around it, ready to run or hide at a moment's call. All she saw, however, was an elderly man sitting on a log, a roaring fire in front of him. There was a large, black pot hanging above the fire that he was stirring with a large ladle.

"You needn't hide, child, I will not harm you," the old man said, not looking up from his work.

Pyre froze, unsure what to do. There was no way he had heard her sneak up on him; she could walk across a blanket of dead leaves and not make a sound. Pyre struggled with herself for a moment, then, cautiously, stepped into the small clearing, eyeing the man suspiciously. She still had an arrow nocked in case he made any sudden movements.

"Come, sit," the old man patted the log next to him, "I won't bite." He looked up at her and smiled. His face was old and weathered, but had warmth to it. He had a white beard that came down to near the middle of his chest, and white hair the same length. He was dressed in old, grey robes, which were covered in dirt.

"Who are you?" Pyre asked standing a couple paces away, still not entirely sure if she could trust this man. She knew better than to take people at their looks alone. And especially after her encounter the night before, she was in no hurry to become cozy to anyone new.

He did not respond. He made no move that he had even noticed that she had said a word. He grabbed some sort of plant, that Pyre had never seen before, from the bag next to him and began tearing the leaves from it and tossing them into his concoction, which was now boiling. He continued to stir everything together for a few moments. The aroma made Pyre's mouth water and reminded her that she hadn't had a good meal in many days. Apparently her stomach remembered as well and grumbled angrily to remind her. She ignored it and repeated her question. She shot glances into the woods around her, still weary this might be some sort of set up.

The old man only chuckled, but still made no move to respond. He grabbed a bowl out of his pack and filled it to the top with the delicious smelling, steaming hot stew. He offered it to Pyre. She eyed it suspiciously, and then eyed old man. His deep blue eyes were soft and warm; she could not sense anything malicious about him, but still was not completely to eat something that could be poisoned. When she made no move to take the bowl from him he shrugged and set it down next to him. He pulled a second bowl from his bag and filled it with the stew. He blew on it once, muttered something under his breath and began to eat. After a few bites, he offered the bowl to her once again. Taking one more look around the area, she relaxed the arrow and held it and the arrow with one hand as she slowly stepped forward and took the bowl from his patient hand. He smiled warmly at her again and patted the log next to him.

"Come, child, sit. You look weary."

Pyre slowly walked around him and sat across from him; still ready to escape on a second's notice. Pyre eyed the man once more before shoveling a spoonful of the stew into her mouth. It burned her tongue and throat, but she was so hungry she didn't care. She did take the time to blow on the next spoonful before she swallowed that one as well. They both ate in comfortable silence for a moment, until Pyre's curiosity got the best of her.

"Who are you?" she asked, for the third time, between bites.

The old man sat for a moment, looking pensive, as if wondering what to tell the young girl.

"I am one with the universe," he responded, "I am a child of the earth, and the trees and the sun. We are all of the same energy, which I can see you are getting some back now, that is good...another bowl?" He reached for the ladle, noticing Pyre's bowl was empty. She shook her head.

"No, thank you. I mean, what is your name? Where did you come from?" Pyre asked again, her irritation coming through. Maybe this was just some crazy old man...then again, something told her otherwise.

"Ahh, now you start asking the correct questions. My name is Artoknshathra, but you may call me Artok. I come from Roradian," Artok responded.

"Roradian?" Pyre didn't know the land all too well, but well enough to know that Roradian was, at least, a couple months' journey, and that was with a fast horse. She looked around, but saw no horse. Surely he didn't walk the whole way! For this old man, walking, it must have taken at least a year. "That's quite a journey. What brings you out this way?"

"Why, you do, Pyrathia," the old man said, watching her.

Pyre jumped up. Nobody called her that other, than her parents when she was a child. Who was this man, and how the hell did he know who she was? She reached for her bow but it jumped away from her. Pyre lurched back in surprise. The old man pushed himself up slowly off the log.

"You do not need to fear me, young one. I am not here to harm you," he said, taking a step towards her. Pyre retreated more, grabbing her hunting knife from her knee-high, tan boots.

"Who the bloody hell are you, old man? And don't lie to me or I will cut out your tongue!" Pyre waved the knife in front of her to show she wasn't kidding.

The old man just smiled at her threat and, with a wave of his hand, made the dagger fly from her hand and slam, sheath-deep, into a nearby tree. Pyre looked at him in horror.

"What do you want from me?" she nearly screamed, her voice breaking with terror. Clearly, her physical strength would do her no good here. She eyed the exits, wondering how far she could make it. She was only a few miles from her village, and she knew this forest fairly well.

"Please, calm yourself," the old man said, taking another step towards her and bringing her attention back to him. A wave of comfort flooded her and she was oddly at ease for a moment. She glanced over at the tree her knife was plunged into, and became tense once again. The old man sighed.

"I knew your mother, Pyrathia; she was a student of mine. Your father as well. I was very sorry to hear of his demise," Artok said, with true sadness in his deep blue eyes.

Pyre tensed up even more. She had never really known her mother. She had died when Pyre was just a little girl. Her father and her aunt had been the ones to raise her. How could this man know both her parents?

"Nice try, old man," she growled angrily, "But my mother died a long time ago."

"No, child, she didn't," Artok retorted.

Pyre looked at him in shock and horror. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. After what had happened the previous night and now this! It was too much. She could feel her sanity melting away. Frantically, she tried to come up with an escape plan. Maybe if she could stall him...

"What do you mean? She died when I was a babe," Pyre said, still slowly edging back away from the clearing.

"I will explain more at a later time, but right now I need you to come with me. There is much for you to learn still before you are ready," Artok said, holding out his hands to her.

"N...no...I'm s...sorry," she stuttered, "You have the wrong girl." She reached down, grabbed her second knife and threw it at the old man in one quick motion. She didn't expect to hit her mark but prayed it was enough of a distraction for her to at least get a head start. Pyre turned and fled, running as fast as her feet would let her. She could hear the old man yelling her name in the distance, but she paid him no attention. She needed to get home, where it was safe. Where she could be with her friends and family, and not have to listen to the ramblings of a crazy old man.

Her mother had died years ago. Rage fueled Pyre's body and kept her going. Cold wind whipped past her face as she flew through the woods, but she did not feel it. Her only thought was to get home. She did not slow until she got to the outskirts of Clomoke and could see the first couple farms. She reduced her sprint to a jog, but then sped it up again, wanting to get home quickly. She did not even look at the people outside tending their fields as she passed. Out of the corner of her eye she could see them looking puzzled when they were not acknowledged, but that was not something she was worried about now.

As she reached her house, she could hear her aunt inside, bustling about. She could smell bread cooking in the oven and meat being smoked in the back. She paused for a second before going inside. She looked up at her small home and smiled. Her pounding heart reminded her that she had been running and what she had been running from and the smile faded.

"I'm home, Keatheri" Pyre called to her aunt, stepping inside the warm, dimly lit cottage. She went to hang her cloak on one of the pegs and remembered that she didn't have her bow anymore. Or her good hunting knives! Pyre glowered and cursed the old man; those cost a pretty penny and now she would have to replace them. She disliked this man more and more by the second. She walked further into the cottage and could hear her aunt bustling around in the kitchen.

It was a small place compared to some of the other homes in the village. The main living room was stocked with a large fire place, a couple of tables and chairs, and a sewing area that had balls of thread strewn about everywhere. The only bedroom, Pyre shared with her aunt and her two little cousins, twins, Jurane and Kytomi; whom Keatheri had adopted when they wondered into their farm. They had only seen five summers so far.

"I'm in here," Keatheri hollered from the third room. This was Pyre's favorite room of the house. She followed the sound of her aunt's humming into the kitchen and stood in the doorway, watching the older lady bustling around, keeping herself busy. The twins played in the corner with some homemade toys. They both had the same olive skin Pyre had, as well as raven black hair and bright green eyes, though theirs' had a yellow ring around the pupil. They barely looked up as Pyre came in, focused on some game they had probably just made up.

"How was your trip, Pyre, honey?" her aunt asked sweetly. She glanced over at Pyre when she said nothing, "That bad, huh? That's ok. We have some food from the garden and enough salted meat in the barn to last us a while." She smiled her sweetest smile and went back to work. Her smiles usually always made Pyre feel better, but today nothing could help raise her mood. She watched her aunt for a moment. The older lady was good-natured and plump. She always had rosy red cheeks and warm brown eyes, the color of the most luscious chocolate. Her long brown hair was tied up in a messy bun. The clothes she was wearing today were old and worn, but still fit her perfectly.

"I was just talking to Ipi the other day and you would not believe what Cahon was telling her!" Keatheri went on in her bubbly tone. "Seems that the Council believes that some of Ruka's drunk rambling, you remember Ruka right?" She asked, turning to Pyre. "That crazy old man that gets plumbed down at Lams et'Vue's tavern every night? Nasty place, I'll say." She pointed the spoon she was holding at Pyre's face, "And don't you ever let me catch you down there miss! There will be hell to pay, you believe that!" She turned back to her cooking, continuing on.

Pyre rolled her eyes, only vaguely listening to what her aunt was saying. She wanted to ask about what the old man had told her, but was still working up the courage. What if he was telling the truth? Would she really want to know?

"Pyrathia?"

Pyre looked up quickly. "Have you been listening to anything I've been saying? I feel like I'm talking to a wall here!"

"Sorry," Pyre muttered. "Long couple days."

"So I see. How'd you manage to get all those scratches there, hun?" Her aunt asked, pointing to her arms and legs.

Pyre glanced down, and for the first time noticed that her arms were covered in little red scratches and her breaches had a bunch of little tears. Nothing too deep but some of them already had caused drops of blood to run down her arms. She growled as she saw her pants however, they were her favorites.

"It was nothing, I wasn't paying attention," she said quickly.

"Uh-huh..." her aunt responded, looking at her intently as though trying to bore it out of her with her eyes. When Pyre didn't say anything more, the plump woman dropped it, for which Pyre was thankful. "Very well then, why don't you take that," she pointed to a bucket of scraps, "out to the barn, wash up and then come in for dinner." Pyre nodded and grabbed the bucket.

"Ooooh! I wan' go thee the hortheth!" Her cousin Jurane lisped as he looked up from the game.

"Me too, me too! Can we come with you, Pypy?" His sister, Keindra asked using the nickname she had come up with.

She started to say no, but could not resist their puppy dog eyes. She laughed out loud.

"Yes Kiki, you guys can come, but no letting the chickens out and chasing them around. I don't feel like chasing them back into their pen right now. Otherwise, I'll stick your mama on you," Pyre said, rustling Jurane's hair. He shot a quick glance at the woman bent over the stove and then smiled wickedly back at Pyre; they both knew it was an empty threat.

The children cheered and ran outside in front of her. Still smiling to herself, she grabbed the bucket and followed them outside to the barn. Her family didn't have a large farm, but it was good for them. Two horses, a dairy cow, a couple of pigs and, in Pyre's opinion, too many chickens. The two young children were already in the barn before Pyre got there and she could hear the chickens squawking. Jurane had NOT heeded her warning. With a sigh, Pyre pulled the barn door closed behind her and starting herding the chickens back to their pen.

Dommorth closed his eyes and leaned back against the tree. His body was exhausted from riding for three days straight, but his mind was alive with questions about his most current mission. He knew better than to ask questions of the man who held his contract, but that didn't mean he didn't wonder the point of them. Most times they were just to "take care" of certain problems. He was the best assassin in the entire land; not to mention his master kept him in great confidence. So why was nothing told to him about this girl; this girl who was specifically "not to returned damaged" as per his orders.

He opened his eyes, shaking his head hard, trying to clear it. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, a pink and orange glow chasing away the blackness of night. He should have had her the night before. He stood up and stretched, his joints complaining loudly. He glanced over at the soldier comrades with contempt before walking a few feet away to relieve himself. Standing there, his mind wandered back to his quarry. He thought he had seen her hiding in the bushes the night before. Even now, he didn't know why he hadn't checked closer. He would not make that mistake again, the thought to himself furiously.

The tall man replaced himself and turned back towards camp. The men were beginning to stir. Dommorth walked over to his belongings and began to tie his bed roll onto the back of his saddle. They needed to get an early start. He did not want to be out here any longer than he had to; or, at least, out here with these idiots that called themselves soldiers.

"Be ready to leave soon," he called out to them. A few gave him sour looks, which quickly melted away when he turned to stare at them. "We need to use as much daylight as we can." He secured his sword on his belt, along with his throwing knives, and then slung his bow and quiver over his shoulders. After tightening the cinch and making sure his saddle bags were securely belted, Dommorth hopped smoothly onto Fuin; the trained stallion hardly acknowledging him. Dommorth patted the gelding's neck and muttered to it softly. He waited for the others, making his impatience known to them and causing them to hurry. It was a good thing these men knew what he was capable of.

"We are ready to go, sir," Marcus said with a sneer, pulling his brumby up next to darker man. Dommorth looked down at the man, who was at least a head shorter than he, and after a moment the other man took a step back.

"Good," he said, nodding, turning away. "We find that girl today or we burn every village until she finds us." He turned back to the balding man, "Let us be on our way," he said with an evil smile before turning and kicking Fuin into motion.

Marcus froze in fear for a moment before his instincts as Captain kicked in. He called to his troops to march and they lined up behind them. He was not a fan of this tracker giving the orders. He had worked hard to get to where he was; he did not let anything scare him or break him; however, the look that the darker man had in his eyes chilled Marcus to the bone. He thanked his lucky stars he was not the one they were looking for.

A/N: I would like to throw a couple shoutouts:

Gnat1610:Thank you so much for the review! It made me so happy :D You are awesome!

gypsypitcrew: Haha thank you! I didn't use spelll check on that one when I moved it over to here, but I think I got them all fixed.

And of course to my unoffical beta! KypNailo: Thank you for all the help! I got most of the stuff changed.

You guys are fantastic! Anything you have to say, good, bad, I love it all! It helps me write better! New chapter coming soon.