A/n: All right, so this too a long time between updates. I know, I know! But I've trying to update my other stories as well (which I hope you can also check out!). So here is chapter 6, and I hope you enjoy. :)


Chapter 6

"Ayah! Here you are..." Shaomer smiled, taking her in momentarily. He saw her sway and he rushed to support her.

Her knees were suddenly unbelievably weak as Shaomer worked to steady her and helped her sit down on the cushy bed. Her breath came in ragged gasps.

Shaomer carefully sat down beside her. "Ayah? Are you alright?" he asked, his voice and eyes full of concern.

Ayah closed her eyes. No... he was dead... she'd understood and accepted that fact... she'd moved on...here he was... beside her...alive... he was alive and sitting beside her...Shaomer was alive...

She slowly opened her eyes, fully expecting to find herself laying down, wrapped in her bed covers, warm and snuggled and just waking from an extremely realsitic dream But it wasn't a dream, because there was Shaomer, still sitting beside her, his rugged tan face still full of concern.

Ayah let out a sort of strangled cry and crumpled as the realization fully hit her. Immediately without thinking, Shaomer wrapped his arms around her in comfort. He felt awkward but yet strangely like he fit, sitting there holding Ayah...

A few minutes later, Ayah took a large, finalizing gasp and pulled gently away from Shaomer's embrace, feeling rather foolish and embarrassed.

"I'm sorry." she whispered.

"Don't be." he shook his head.

They were quiet and outside Ayah's window a bird chirped brightly before flittering away.

"What happened to you?" Ayah asked, her voice still shaking slightly but feeling a little more in control of her composure. "I thought you were dead."

Shaomer half-smiled wryly. "So did I." he paused. "But I'm not, and I owe you the full story."

Shaomer took a deep breath and told his story, beginning with when he had last seen Ayah.


It was all a blur. Shaomer was rising quietly along through the Forest with the other Journiers, his ears sharp for unusual sounds. Then someone near the front had gotten shot with an arrow. The word, "ATTACK!" came from the Forest as more arrows suddenly rained down among them.

Shaomer unsheathed his sword and began riding at full speed. He swung his sword at an orc who had its spear poised to take Shaomer down. The orc fell to the ground as soon as Shaomer's sword connected, causing bluish blood to spatter across his thin armour. He swore under his breath. Why didn't he wear his thick battle armour? He knew they were going to head through this Forest. He should've anticipated an attack.

He saw Ayah, fighting her horse to stand still. She was looking around frantically, unsure of what to do. He rode quickly past her and called, "AYAH! GET OUT OF HERE!"

He yanked on the reins of his horse when he saw that she was still not moving. He turned to look at her and yell again, when an arrow hit his chest with unimaginable speed, splitting through his thin armour and into his flesh. The pain was incredible. He gave a shout of pain and clutched his saddle as his body began to slide to the side...

He thought he heard his name among the screams and yells of humans, orcs and Elves, but he could not be sure.

He righted himself and kicked hard at his horse. It moved this way and that, but not forward. It did not run, but merely gave a kick and a twist, severely spooked by the activity around him.

"C'mon!" Shaomer kicked its side again. If it didn't go, in a moment they were both going to be dead. The horse was slowly being surrounded by bluish-gray orcs, all with their eyes fixed on their next meal.

'I'm going to die...' Shaomer thought. He looked wildly around for any form of escape. He'd rather die because of his arrow injury than being eaten by these vicious wood-dwelling orcs.

A large, brown-coloured horse with no rider was barrelling towards him and his horse, trampling orcs as it went. In a split second, Shaomer had and idea and had to make a decision and take a substantial risk. He stood on the saddle of his horse, tensed and saw the action in his brain. He was going to follow through with it, although a tiny miscalculation would bring his death about much sooner.

He fought to stay standing on the saddle of his terrified horse until he chose the right moment...and jumped.

Someone up there was watching over him - sort of.

He landed squarely and painfully on the saddle of the galloping brown horse, although just barely. In the process of jumping, another arrow had sliced into his leg. The landing sent waves of pain through him that he had never felt before in his entire life.

The ears of the horse he now sat upon were flat against its head as it tore up the ground in its speedy retreat. It was galloping the opposite way that the Journiers had fled, but at that moment Shaomer did not care. He would cath up when this was all over. He guessed they would find a safe haven to recover then move on to the next destination.

He chanced a glance back, and saw disgusting orcs finally overtake his horse as it now came out of its frozen terror state and attempted to get away. Tears stung Shaomer's eyes and he looked away. That horse had been with him so long and meant so much to him. He had named it Kalilah, after his sister who had passed away a few years ago at only 14 years of age from sickness. He missed her greatly, and the horse had been as gentle and unique as his sister. Now, it too, was gone. Just like his sister.

The chocolate coloured horse beneath him was doing its best to put as much distance as was possible between them and scene at the Forest.

The jostling of the horse aggravated Shaomer's injuries, but he fought to cry out. He was not out of dangerous territory yet, and thought that his horse's hoofs pounding the dirt was enough noise already. He could not risk being shot again.

He praised the horse's speed and kept his eyes open for a settlement or town of some kind where he could seek help and refuge.

Hours later, his horse had slowed considerably, feeling no more sense of danger as they were out dangerous territory, but also being quite exhausted. Shaomer, however, was now fighting to stay in the saddle. He had lost considerable amounts of blood which soaked his clothes. He had attempted to shed his armour because it felt constricting, but could not. His head was spinning, his eyes blurring, his heart pounding with effort, his breath coming in gasps... the pain seemed to increase more with each passing moment. This really was the end.

He wished he could've seen Ayah once last time, and not with the terror-stricken face he had last seen her with. He wished he could've kissed her one last time, and told her just how much he loved her...one last time. He also wished he could've died without so much pain.

Shaomer squinted... he thought he saw some sort of toen or settlement, rising up and onto a hill. He could not be sure. Was his eyes playing tricks on him? He could not even be sure of that, for his vision was so blurred he could barely make out the features of the horse's head. He swayed and his sweaty hands clutched tighter to the saddle horn in which the reins were wrapped tightly around.

In fact, were there not half a dozen men on horses riding towards him? Shaomer desperately hoped they were friendly. His body swayed again, and tired to force his fingers to claps tighter.

His throat was raspy dry from lack of water, and his panting horse had slowed down to trudging walk. He swallowed with the extremely little amount of saliva in his mouth, which made no difference to his dry, dry throat. The riders were closer now...

"Help......' Shaomer said as loud as he could muster the strength to do, which turned out to be rather weakly. He suddenly completely lost his grip on the saddle horn as his body fell to the left. 'I'm dead...' he thought. He crashed downward to the dirt below.

Shaomer passed out before he hit the ground.


A/n: How was that? Like? Don't? Let me know!