DA: And I'm back againnnn! This time with real pain for you guys! Hehehehe

Enjoyyyyy!

Chapter 3

Mystras' eyes narrowed, frowning slightly. His hands felt strangely empty, his lance stowed with the other supplies in one of the rear carts.

"What do you mean, Ja'far?" Ja'far didn't respond for a second, tensing at the shadows that suddenly fell over them. Trees stretched up all around them, reducing the space they had to travel in by quite a bit. The air was tense and heavy, a sensation only magnified by the darkness that now spilled down from the trees, the canopy overhead blocking out all but some of the sunlight. Pockets glowed in the brush as they walked, a crimson light that broke through some of the shadows. Instinctively, Ja'far's fingers brushed against the wires wrapped tightly around his arms, the mere feel of them easing some of the tension that had settled about his shoulders.

"I…I have a bad feeling. Those rocks in the path…they were put there on purpose. Someone wanted us to go this way." Mystras sucked in a breath, his hands clenching only to close in on empty air. His eyes, now hard and concerned, scanned the immediate area. The path was thin, only allowing a single line of carriages through, and there was no room to fight, much less run. If they were attacked here, it would lead to chaos. He leaned over, one of his hands clasping around Ja'far's shoulder.

"Do you know why?" he whispered, almost cautiously. Ja'far shook his head, lips pressed together into a thin line.

"Just be on your guard. I don't know what could happen, but I don't like it." Mystras nodded, straightening once more.

"I will." Ja'far smiled, a small, weak expression that betrayed the unease that coursed through him.

"Thank you." Grinning in response, Mystras winked at him.

"What could happen with the two of us here? This caravan is-"

A loud, crackling bang cut off his words, an oppressive wave of heat crashing over them. Ja'far froze, a sudden rush of adrenaline surging through his veins. His heels scraped the brush as he wheeled towards the source of the noise, eyes wide with horror. Smoke billowed up from the back of the caravan, thin streams of it snaking through the interlocking pattern of branches overhead. The rest settled down into the forest, already beginning to haze the air. Flames licked up toward the sky, a bright glow slicing through the shadows. People rushed towards the fire, loud screams of panic and pain roaring across the snap of the flames as it ate through the carriage that housed it. Ja'far's blood ran cold, his hands moving instinctively to release the blades that he strapped to his arms.

Mystras cursed beside him, his face pale in the flickering orange glow of the flames. His hands were empty, Ja'far just noticing the absence of the weapon that his comrade always had on him. "Mystras…where is your lance?" he asked, his voice hollow to his own ears. Out of the corner of his eyes, shadows danced in the trees, moving fluidly and silently amidst the panic. Mystras' expression was grim, his mouth a hard slash across his face.

"In the back cart," he responded, frustration heavy in his tone. Ja'far bit back his own curse as it attempted to escape his throat, his hands tightening around the comforting metal of his knives.

"What were you thinking?! We don't have time for this!" Mystras glared at him, the bright light of the fire dancing in his dark eyes.

"Do you think I don't know that?! Just…Just give me a few seconds to get it. I'm not going to let this get any worse. I promise." Ja'far stared at him, horribly aware of the shadows stalking towards them. He shook his head, wheeling around.

"Fine. I leave the caravan to you. Don't let them die." And he rushed off, ignoring Mystras' protest. Someone had to stop the attackers before this could get any worse. He could trust Mystras to guard what remained of the caravan while he took care of those responsible. Flicking outward with both of his wrists, twin knives launched into the haze, embedding into the top of a single tree with a dulled thud. With a single heave, he pulled himself up onto a lower branch, recalling his blades with a single tug. He climbed up the rest of the way, his steps careful and silent. Pausing at the top of the tree, he caught his breath, scanning the darkness with a practiced gaze.

"I know you're out there," he whispered, one of his hands resting against the trunk of the tree. The coarse, irritating scent of smoke scratched at his nose, his eyes watering from their exposure to it. "Come and get me…" And he waited, listening to the rustling of the trees, to the crackle of flames, to the panicked screams of both men and woman as they watched the carts get consumed by the fire. Taking a deep breath, he let his eyes slip shut, readjusting his grip on his blades.

Any moment now…

A branch creaked in front of him, his eyes snapping open and his arms lifting just in time to block the knife of his attacker. Dark, beady eyes stared into his own, his face shrouded by a black cowl that was pulled tight against his head. Snarling, Ja'far shoved him away, swinging wide with one of his weapons. But he missed, his assailant jumping to another tree before his knife could bite into flesh. Ja'far followed him into the darkness, leaping from one branch to another. The hiss of a blade his only warning, he dodged to the side, one of his hands shooting out to pin the arm of his attacker to a tree with a blade. His knife jerked to a stop, a hiss of pain echoing through the silent forest.

"What are you here for?" Ja'far growled, his footsteps quiet against the branch he stood on. A dark form was pressed flat against the trunk, the glimmer of Ja'far's knife dug deep into the man's arm, hand outstretched and loose. "I won't ask again." He pressed his other blade to the man's throat, his eyes burning with anger. "What are you here for? What do you want from us?" The assailant laughed, his eyes narrowed and bright with madness. Ja'far's eyebrows furrowed, dread settling deep inside him.

"You," the man whispered hoarsely. Ja'far blinked in surprise, reducing the pressure on his attacker's throat slightly. But it was just enough. His side erupted in pain, the attacker's free arm coming up to dig his knife deeply into the meaty flesh of Ja'far's abdomen. Ja'far choked when it was slowly extracted, but forced his blade against the man's throat once more. Blood spilled from the now open wound, soaking into the white cloth surrounding it. Agony burned at his nerves, but he didn't let it show on his face, glaring openly at his attacker.

"That was a bad move." And he angled his knife, allowing it to finally slice into the thin flesh of the man's neck. Blood spattered against his face as he dragged his blade across the assassin's throat, hot and slick against his pale flesh. Onyx eyes were impassive as the man cloaked in black gurgled and choked on his own blood, which leaked readily from the weeping cut that stretched from ear to ear. Ja'far pulled his blade back from the tree, sucking in a breath when the movement tugged on the torn flesh of his side. The man slumped over onto the branch, tumbling down to the ground when it failed to keep him stable. Ja'far didn't spare him a second glance, turning to face whomever decided to attack next.

Blood poured down his side, spattering thickly down to his feet. His jaw was clenched, muscles taut against the pain that threatened to overwhelm him. This wound shouldn't have even happened; it would have gotten him killed as a child. He was slipping. He didn't dare touch it in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. He was still in the middle of a fight, and any signs of weakness might get him killed. As it stood now, that chance had increased exponentially anyway. Swallowing, his grip tightened around his knifes, blood gleaming along their edges.

The next attacker was upon him before he had a chance to prepare for it, a shadow slamming hard against him and knocking him from the tree that he stood on. Air rushed past him as he fell, smoke swirling up around him and blocking his view of who it was that had pushed him. He slammed hard into the ground, his vision momentarily going black. Pain exploded along his side, tearing through him like lightning. He gasped, blood gathering in his throat, and turned to the side, one of his arms clutching at the injury.

His vision cleared moments later, though black dots still peppered the edges of it. He lay at the edge of the path he had vacated in an attempt to stop this madness, sprawled at the roots of the trees that he had been the location of his struggle. A battle raged against a backdrop of flames, smoke hazing the air. Cries of pain screeched through the forest, bodies sprawled against the ground in various states of injury. Dark blood seeped into the earth, gleaming in the flickering light of the fire. Mystras stood at its center, his face fixed into a snarl as he fought. Blood dripped from his hairline and at the corner of his lips, staining a face that was already coated in dirt. With a cry, he impaled the man before him on the tip of his lance, already in the process of wheeling around the meet his next target when he saw Ja'far. His face paled, his dark eyes widening in surprise.

Ja'far blinked wearily, his eyes blurring slightly. His lips parted to call out to Mystras, but he quickly found he lacked the energy. His side throbbed, blood oozing from between his fingers. His head rested against the ground below, his eyelids already beginning to droop. His thoughts were leaden, but less so than his body. Dammit…Something must have been on that knife.

Mystras moved towards Ja'far, his mouth moving soundlessly. Panic was etched onto his expression, the hair that was usually curtained across one side of his face swept aside in the heat of battle. But even as he began to run, he stopped, confusion fluttering across his face. The shaft of an arrow, glowing with magical energy, sprouted from his shoulder, another appearing from his upper thigh. Ja'far's eyes widened, his heart pounding harshly against his ribs. This couldn't be happening. Mystras stumbled, one of his legs crumpling beneath him. His body jerked again, an arrow embedding itself into his abdomen. Crimson blood seeped from between his lips, dripping in thick streams down to his chin. Dark eyes lifted to meet Ja'far's, a weak smile fluttering quickly across Mytoras' lips. Then one of the attackers appeared behind him and knocked him over the head with the back of his blade. Mystras' eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fell, falling to a crumpled heap on his side. He didn't stir.

How could everything go so wrong all at once?

Ja'far wanted to get up, wanted to rush over to check on him, but his vision swam again, darkness flecking its edges. He couldn't do much more than stare through slit eyes as Mystras bled onto the ground around him, his lance rolling from his grasp. Ja'far's thoughts swam, his senses dulled to the world around him. Finally, his vision failed, the world falling to darkness around him. Someone rolled him onto his back, a low groan escaping from between parted lips. "What should we do with the rest?" someone asked, his voice startling clear against the roaring in Ja'far's ears.

"Kill them. We have no need for them."

And Ja'far knew no more.

DA: Well...That's all for now!

*runs the fuck away* DON'T HURT ME!

DarkAngel555