plummet: Here's chapter two. I know it's detailed x 1000. Lol, I get really into it when I write.
Disclaimer: I own nothing copyrighted, blah, blah-blah…blahty-blah. XD
A Heart that Feels Not Is Dead
Chapter Two: Have the Gods No Mercy?
It took them but a few minutes to arrive on the scene, and whatever they had been expecting, it certainly wasn't what they found. Most of the houses had already been burnt to ashes, and those that weren't existed only as giant heaps of splintered, blackened wood. The marketplace, which had, at one time, been filled with delicious food stuffs and various other material goods, was charred beyond recognition. Gory, smoking animal corpses were littered everywhere, flies feeding off of their remains…Even with the majority of the village destroyed, though, some giant flames still lived, working on the task of devouring it completely.
Stelios voiced what they were all thinking, "What happened here? Where are all the people?"
"Persians," Leonidas uttered quietly, gazing around at the destruction that surrounded them.
"I put there number at around twenty," the captain stated, his countenance drawn.
The king whispered with quiet intensity, "A scouting parting…" Crouching down next to the unmistakably dead body of a horse, he spotted a strangely shaped footprint. He furrowed his brow in thought, tracing the footprint's outline in morbid fascination. "But these footprints…"
Leonidas and Amycus locked gazes, their eyes mirroring their fears. Whatever left that particular imprint in the ground was most certainly not human…
Suddenly, a flame shot up from inside a mountain of rubble; it collapsed in on itself, causing pots and things originally nestled within the ashes to tumble down noisily to the ground. Two Spartan soldiers, previously shielded by the rubble, were revealed to the rest of the party sporting identically sheepish expressions. The sight would have been a funny one if the situation was not so somber.
"Behind you!" someone shouted.
The Spartan army, so rigorously trained, fell into their fighting stances in unison, raising their shields up and pointing their spears expertly in the direction of the hills in the distance.
It appeared, at first, as if a giant creature was approaching them, so monstrous was its shadow made by the light of the burning village. But soon enough, the shadow began shrinking as it crept closer, leaving in its wake the form of a young boy.
He walked slowly and unsteadily towards them, his face blank as if he was slowly being drained of his life spirit, which was plausible, considering the state he was in. His clothes were torn, blood-stained, and burnt; his hair: a scraggly, blood-matted mess; his face: scorched black from the fire. His condition pained the hearts of the Spartan warriors, as he reminded them of their own beloved sons…
"It's a child!" Stelios cried. The soldiers immediately lowered their weapons and shields, allowing the child to pass safely through their ranks as he approached Leonidas.
All of the soldiers stared at the boy, compassion and pity shining in their eyes. When he reached the king, he promptly fainted. Luckily, though, Leonidas' quick reflexes allowed him to catch the boy before he bit the ground. Leonidas cradled the boy's limp body closer to him, thinking he was surely dead. But then, his eyes opened slightly, and he began to speak.
"It's quiet now…" he said, whisper-soft. "They…they came with beasts from the blackness…with their claws and fangs, they grabbed them…everyone, but me…"
That was all the poor boy had the energy to say before his body went limp in Leonidas' arms, his soul passing to the heavens. Silently seething, Leonidas adjusted the youth's body in his arms. This boy was an innocent! The barbarians that did this would pay. The only fit payment: their blood on his hands…
"The villagers…I've found them," said Dilios, his voice trembling slightly.
King Leonidas' head slowly looked up, his fury and disgust multiplying tenfold. He stood up, the boy still in his arms, and joined the rest of his horrified party in front of a tree…constructed of visciously impaled corpses.
Stelios shook his head. "Have the gods no mercy?" he asked, almost choking on the intensity of his emotion.
The captain of the Arcadians, whose army had just caught up with the Spartans a few moments before, looked beyond terrified at the spectacle before him. "We are doomed…"
"Quiet yourself," Amycus practically spat back at him, not in the mood to hear his pessimistic sentiments.
Swallowing noticeably, the Arcadian captain, Thenos, spoke, "The child speaks of the Persian ghosts from the ancient times. They are the hunters of men's souls. They cannot be killed or defeated. Not this darkness…Not these immortals…"
"Immortals…" Leonidas formed the word as if it was the vilest one in existence. "We will put their name to the test." He smirked devilishly, already picturing his means of revenge…
A light descended from the sky so suddenly and unexpectedly it made even the hearts of the Spartan soldiers stop beating. It shone like a beacon in the darkness of the night, millions of times brighter than even the firelight. Nothing had ever terrified the Spartans before, but this…This divine light was something that even they feared.
Its brightness highlighted a spot of rubble on the king's left, and he, after handing the boy's corpse gently over to Amycus, approached it in awe, his soldiers frozen in place behind him. Leonidas reached his hand out painfully slow, and when the light touched him, it flashed a blinding white and then disappeared. He examined his hand in amazement. Surely, he had touched the light from heaven itself!
But then, something in the rubble moved, and he looked down, spotting nothing else but…a human hand. The small, dainty hand, despite the palm being terribly burnt and bloody, was still recognizable as belonging to a young woman or a small child.
'Grab her hand, Leonidas…' a feminine voice whispered in his mind. Oddly, it did not frighten him, but he was still reluctant to obey it. 'Trust me…' it said again, and this time, Leonidas could not fight the urge to comply.
When he grabbed her hand, he was surprised it squeezed back weakly, showing him that she was still, indeed, very much alive.
"She lives!" Leonidas exclaimed with unbidden shock.
He let her hand drop and began to comb frantically through the remains of what appeared to have once been a stable. Stelios, Dilios, and Astinos jogged over to him to help, everyone else looking on, helplessly. Their combined efforts revealed the battered body of a young woman. Leonidas gathered her up into his arms effortlessly – she was surprisingly light – and began to assess her injuries.
Her dark, almost black hair was matted with dried blood and ash, her entire body stained a grayish-black from the ashes. Her clothes were in complete shambles, barely covering her womanly assets. Small abrasions were littered across her body, a particularly nasty one on the right side of her cheek; it would scar most terribly. Most worrisome of her wounds, though, was the one to her temple that was enough to kill any mortal man, and yet…here she was, still breathing…albeit shallowly, but still breathing.
No one dared move a muscle or even breathe, so afraid were they that any sudden movement would cause her to die like the boy before her; they had seen enough death for one day.
But then, she stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Dazed and confused, she gazed up at Leonidas with the most breathtaking eyes he had ever seen. They were blue, green, and golden-brown all at once; both irises were composed of blue and green flecks, and her pupils were outlined with the golden-brown…Everything, his sadness, his pain, his fear, faded away to nothing as he gazed into those eyes. Only when she spoke did his sense return to him.
"Have you found my brother…?" she asked, her soft voice hoarse with pain.
"I do not know what your brother looks like, milady," the king answered softly, his voice threaded with undertones of compassion. He knew that, whoever her brother was, he had not survived this night.
"He is…very small and-" she coughed violently from the ash no doubt inhabiting her lungs, her chest heaving, but still, she pressed on, "-and youthful with…curly, blond hair…" She locked eyes with him, her gaze unwavering. "A creature from the pits of…hell itself threatened us, so I…sent him to hide…in the hills while I…stayed behind as a distraction…"
Leonidas knew, immediately, who it was she referred to…the young boy. As everyone else witnessing the scene realized the same, a few soft gasps were heard.
He closed his eyes briefly to gather his courage. "Yes, milady, I have seen your brother...Although, I regret to inform you, he is no longer among the living…"
Her impossibly beautiful eyes welled up with tears. "It…it cannot be!" she exclaimed with profound despair, her eyes searching Leonidas' face for any sign of deception. "…can it?"
The silence she got in response was all the answer she needed. A wail of agony and distress ripped from her throat, and, at that moment, Leonidas was sure he had not heard a more terrible sound in all his forty years of life. In her anguish, she buried her face in Leonidas' broad chest, sobs racking her body. Leonidas awkwardly patted her back in an attempt to comfort her, unaccustomed to emotional outbursts.
After what seemed like an eternity – but was, in reality, only a few minutes – she cried herself to sleep, having spent all of her energy. Leonidas unfastened his cloak, wrapping it tenderly around her sleeping form. He then stood up slowly so as not to jostle her and turned to address his men.
"We must not tarry here. We have lost enough time as it is. Pull yourselves together and move out," Leonidas ordered, his countenance stiff with emotion.
When no one moved to obey, Amycus took over, "You heard him, men! Move out!" Instantly, the soldiers snapped to attention and gathered up their weapons, marching back the way they came within strict, military lines.
Thenos echoed the same order, and the Arcadians followed after them within their own ranks. However, King Leonidas, along with Amycus, stayed behind.
Amycus, after a few moments pause, slowly approached a wooden cart that remained mostly untouched by the fire. Gently, he laid the boy's corspe on it, covering him up with its ash-darkened tarp covering. The captain then joined Leonidas where he waited, and both of them began to follow in the footsteps of the retreating soldiers.
When they were a few leagues away from the sight of the burning village, Amycus turned to Leonidas, concern etched into his features. "My king, do you think it wise to leave her wounds unattended?" he inquired with a low voice, his gaze dropping down to the woman in Leonidas' arms.
"We are but a few minutes away from our destination," Leonidas answered tentatively, as if even he doubted his own reasoning. "If the gods went through all the trouble of revealing her to us, they will sustain her life for at least a little longer."
The captain looked skeptical. "Well, what are we to do with her when we arrive? Surely we cannot-"
"She must remain amongst us," Leonidas forcefully interrupted. "There is no way we can allow any men to escort her back to the main gates of Sparta; we cannot spare anyone, what with the impossible odds we face in the war to come."
Amycus nodded curtly and looked away, both men content to travel the rest of the way to the Hot Gates in silence. As much as it pained him to involve an innocent woman in the massacre that was sure to occur, he could find no fault in his king's reasoning. They could spare no one.
plummet: I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter…) I worked uber hard on it. R&R, please…