Hey everybody, and welcome to the third chapter of Running for Life!
Before we begin, I'd once again like to thank the reviewers. Thanks so much to Island-Girl97, AFandomLostInTheEcho (No problem! :D), onewhodies, SilverSkies1524 (Just so happens you'll find out in this chapter!), Dreamer, Aekidna, Guest, Guest, and Frosted Eevee!
With that, on with the chapter!
Chapter 3: Enter Hunters
He felt as though he was going to vomit.
Jack couldn't help but let out a soft groan as he slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes blearily. The boy promptly had to close them again, as the light from the mid-afternoon sun seared across his vision. As he tried to lift his hand to rub the pain away, he became abruptly aware of the fact that he was on horseback. Jack opened his eyes again, though slower this time, to see pale golden fur beneath him.
In other words, this horse was not Zephyr.
Jack's eyes widened as he struggled to sit up straight, only to be hit by another wave of nausea, even more intense than the first. He realized with alarm that he was gagged and his arms were tied, forcing him to keep even more still than the sickness alone did.
"Oi, it's awake," came the same unfamiliar voice from before. Jack felt a twinge of irritation at being called 'it', but right now that was the least of his problems.
"Aha, I see!" came a very familiar voice just above the boy's head. North gripped the ropes that bound Jack's hands and pulled, flipping the snow sprite over onto his back. The man's blue eyes held what could only be described as triumph, and Jack gave a muffled growl in response.
Under any normal circumstances, Jack would have kicked himself for behaving like the animal so many people assumed he was, but at the moment he found himself unable to care. Though upon thinking about it, he would much rather spit profanities at his captors than snarl like a wolf. Of course, that wasn't exactly an option for someone who was bound and gagged.
Much to Jack's irritation, North chose that moment to throw back his head and laugh, presumably at the snow sprite's situation. "What are you, dog?" he asked. "I have heard you speak like person, why don't you now?"
You know full well why I am silent, you son of a-
"Must you two tease him so?" sounded an exasperated female voice off to the left, startling Jack out of his thoughts. "We've already bound him; the least you can do is refrain from attacking him."
"Ah but Tooth," North laughed. "I am not attacking him! My swords are not-"
"With words, North," the female-Tooth, presumably-interrupted sternly. "You are attacking him with words."
North rolled his eyes and muttered, "Alright, alright. But I will not apologize." He added the last part with a sharp glance downwards at Jack, who instantly glared back.
Jack heard Tooth's exasperated sigh, but paid it no mind. Most likely, she was just irritated with North's voice, rather than being legitimately concerned for the boy's well-being. He could understand; he was feeling rather aggravated as well.
In the edges of his vision, Jack noticed a strong, tanned hand reach over and pull the gag from his face. He could practically hear the smirk in his captor's tone as the oddly accented voice once again spoke. "There ya go, sprite. If ya wanna use yer voice, ya can."
Jack figured the unknown man was somehow already aware of the nausea that plagued him. Why else would he taunt him with the chance to speak when the boy was sure to vomit for real should he open his mouth? Instead of risking becoming the object of their entertainment once more, all Jack did was mumble a brisk "Hmph."
North scoffed from his position above him. "If you do not want us to treat you like animal, you would do well to not act like one," he chided.
Jack only rolled his eyes and angled his azure gaze away, biting hard on the inside of his cheek in an attempt to distract himself from the nausea. Now, it was starting to mix with the jagged shots of pain still coursing through his left arm. Could the effects of the poison have also caused this intense illness? Considering the cruelty of humans towards his kind, he didn't doubt that was the case.
"North, Aster, are you quite finished?" Tooth's voice sounded again. "There's really no point for you to be talking down to him like this. Right, Sandy?"
Sandy, whoever he was, must've agreed with her statement, as she continued, "See? You're both acting like children."
North mumbled something under his breath while the other man-Aster-replied, "Alright, alright, sheila. We'll knock it off. For now." He added the last part as a bit of an afterthought.
Jack, meanwhile, clenched his teeth in frustration as he continued to fiddle with his bindings. It didn't help that the pain in his arm had escalated to the point that he'd barely be able to move it, even if he wasn't tied up, nor did the fact that his back was resting against that of a horse.
Horse.
The young snow sprite's eyes widened as his thoughts shifted to Zephyr, his best-and only-friend. Had this group of hunters taken his horse as well? Desperately, Jack did his best to twist his neck around, searching for a glimpse of familiar white fur. His heart rate slowed considerably when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the white stallion, now bridled and begrudgingly being led by a tall, muscular man covered in what appeared to be tribal markings. At the very least, Zephyr was alive.
The man must have sensed Jack's gaze, for he turned, smirking and saying, "What, did ya think we'd get rid of a perfectly good horse?" From the voice, Jack figured this must be Aster, but still said nothing, resorting to a simple scowl as he bit his lip to try to quell his pain.
Aster's smirk only grew. "Aw come on, mate, it's just a little poison. Nothin' much." As he said this, he nodded to the quiver that was on his back. The arrows it contained perfectly matched the cursed thing that had previously lodged itself in the boy's skin.
Jack's crystal eyes widened. "'Twas your arrow?" he whispered, not trusting himself to speak above that tone, lest his sickness turn solid.
"It talks," Aster chuckled, studying the boy with his emerald green eyes. "Yeah, 'twas mine." Jack's eyes narrowed slightly at the attack aimed at his vernacular, but let the man continue. Aster removed one of the arrows from his quiver and looked it over fondly. "Quite a beauty, ain't it?" he asked, clearly not expecting an answer. "Concocted the poison outta Motorean plants yer species ain't even heard of. 'Course I prefer throwin' boomerangs myself, but I s'pose arrows get the job done, eh sprite?"
Another wave of pain and nausea stopped Jack from both answering and bothering to wonder what in the world a boomerang was.
Aster fixed his eyes on something that was out of Jack's line of sight and scowled. "Oi, don't ya roll yer eyes at me, Sandy," he said. After rolling his own eyes at some unseen action performed by the silent Sandy, the heavily tattooed man turned his attention back to the snow sprite. "Not ta worry though," he continued casually. "I got an antidote for ya. That is, if the Tsar needs ya healthy."
Jack clenched his teeth irritably, eyes narrowing into azure slits. Before he could retort, Tooth piped up from his blind spot. Her tone was not unkind, but despite her words, she sounded decidedly indifferent to the icy adolescent's plights. "Enough, Aster. I think he's been tormented enough for one day. Besides, we should stop and set up camp. It's just under another day's journey before we reach Soluna City."
The capital, Jack silently acknowledged. His mind worked fast, even through the blur of the poison's effects. He figured that, since they had come from the village in the southwestern portion of the region of Iskald, they were now steadily traveling southeast through Soluna's central region. If it was to take another day to reach the capital, he still had a chance to escape. Southern Motoraus and eastern Kilatai were off limits-the temperatures in Motoraus were far too high for a boy of winter such as himself, and Kilatai was behind Soluna City from their current vantage point. It would be counterproductive to travel the same direction as the four sprite hunters when he could simply do the opposite. Iskald would be ideal, of course, but that would be the first place he'd be expected to run to. This meant that the region to the west, Ostea, would be perfect for a getaway location.
All he needed to do was formulate a plan to collect his horse, staff, and possibly the antidote Aster had mentioned, and slip away, then execute that plan over the next 24 hours, and still manage to escape to the west, all before the five of them managed to reach the city where nothing but his demise was sure to lie. True, Jack had been in multiple situations of varying levels of danger before, but not one of them came close to topping the current one. After all, this was the first time he had actually managed to get himself caught.
His captors' horses, along with his own, were reined in at the side of the long, snow-dusted road they had been traveling upon. North dismounted, leaving Jack hanging over the very back of the pale horse's neck like a piece of fresh game. The boy could hear Aster irritably grumbling under his breath about how he wasn't built for the cold, and how he couldn't feel his feet. Jack found himself unable to hold back his smirk.
The hunters' camp was set up in a matter of minutes, and Jack was roughly dragged from North's horse the moment they had finished. He clamped his mouth shut tight as his stomach churned, and obediently allowed Aster to fit an iron cuff around his left ankle, lock it in place, and lock the other end around a very long wooden stake that had been forcefully driven deep into the ground. Jack shot a curious glance at the stake, to which Aster replied, "Ya can try pullin' on it all ya want, sprite. It ain't gonna come up," and left it at that.
As he rested his back against the stake, awkwardly managing to draw his cloak around him, even with his bound wrists, Jack silently observed his captors. Considering he had already seen more of North than he wanted or needed, the boy instead turned his attention to Aster. The man's tanned skin combined with his earlier comment regarding the origin of his poisonous plants suggested he was a Motorean citizen. The quiver on his back and the presumed "boomerangs" at his side proved he was well-equipped for ranged fighting, but his tattooed biceps indicated he was no slouch when it came to close combat either. Jack inwardly shuddered as he imagined the combined power of Aster and North. And to think, they only accounted for half of this team of hunters.
The young sprite shifted his gaze to the only female of the group; Tooth, if he remembered correctly. If he had to guess based on her complexion alone, he'd say she was from the eastern region of Kilatai. And were those...feathers on her head and body? And wings on her back? These features only affirmed his hypothesis. Tooth must have been one of Kilatai's "Sisters of Flight", a race of warrior bird-women native to the region. Mentally, he acknowledged she and Aster were likely extremely dedicated to their jobs as snow sprite hunters if they actually took the time to learn Iskald, easily the most complicated language in Soluna, but didn't dwell on it. Instead, his crystal blue eyes fell upon the twin swords strapped at her sides. Jack thoughtfully chewed his lower lip. Though he doubted he'd have the time or chance to do so, if he could find a way to at least relieve Aster of his ranged weapons, his chances of escape would be raised significantly. After all, one couldn't shoot a running target if all they had was a sword.
Unfortunately, as Jack noticed the final hunter, his hopes of an easy exit plummeted through the ground and all the way into Hell. He cursed himself for even daring to assume he was in less trouble than he had originally thought, for he now found himself staring at a golden, oddly-textured, spike-haired man who could only be three and a half feet tall at the most.
A Sand-Spinner, Jack thought, lacing his fingers together nervously. Though he had nothing against Sand-Spinners, he couldn't possibly deny how dangerous they could be to whoever was unfortunate enough to find themselves on one's bad side. Around two years back, Jack had learned the hard way that the Sand-Spinners' golden sand was not just used for pictographic communication. It had the ability to send whoever inhaled the stuff into an abrupt but deep sleep, earning it the generally accepted title of "dreamsand". He was willing to bet that the cloth Aster had previously held to his face was coated in it, which would explain his blackout. When North had mentioned that the group dedicated to capturing his kind was "special", he had been far from exaggerating.
While still examining the little golden man, he felt an odd twinge of recognition brush the back of his mind. Somehow, the combination of the hunters' species seemed familiar, though with his escape plan to formulate and the poison making it difficult to concentrate on one thing, he ended up simply dropping the feeling.
The Sand-Spinner-Sandy, was it?-seemed to sense the sprite's gaze boring into the back of his head, as he turned around curiously. Jack quickly averted his eyes, appearing to be examining a particular frost design that had found its way onto his cloak. Unfortunately for him, he was too late. Having noticed the boy was watching him, Sandy smiled to himself and calmly removed his feet from the ground to drift over to their icy prisoner.
Determined not to meet the small man's topaz eyes, Jack lowered his head further, longing for control of his hands so he could reach back and pull down his hood. As Sandy gazed silently down at him, Jack rubbed his arm and winced as a jolt of searing pain and a wave of gut-wrenching nausea hit him at the same time. The poison…'tis getting worse… he thought, removing the Sand-Spinner from his thoughts entirely. I need to get that antidote and get out of here, and fast.
Jack suddenly became aware of a familiar gritty feeling on his face. Peering up through his silvery bangs, he saw Sandy floating directly before him, hand outstretched and with a shadow of a smile on his face. The young snow sprite would have panicked, had his senses not been increasingly growing numb as a second dose of dreamsand pervaded his system. He thought he groaned under his breath, but he wasn't positive. Jack had no time to think another thought, as the darkness had taken him once more.
Jack's not having the best experience with that dreamsand, is he?
Welp! Hope you enjoyed! Please review, and I'll see you back here again next week for Chapter 4!
Until then, Sapphire316, out.