The evening sun bore down of the thriving village of Oerba while people bustled about; mothers called for their children, children splashed about in the cool water; the water glistened and sparkled with the colored sun. Late summer in Gran Pulse was hot, even with the nearly setting sun it was almost too much to take. Luckily a cool breeze worked its way down from the mountains that towered to the south. It touched the water, pulling up small waves for the children to jump over; rustled the tall trees, helping them stretch and bend their green-filled branches; and curved around overheated rocks, lazily caressing them, then winding around playfully.
"VANILLE!" A woman with a salmon-colored poncho screeched. "Vanille! You get your butt back here NOW!" The older woman stood at a doorway at one of the larger buildings. "Stuffing all the dishes in one cupboard does NOT count as DOING THEM!" Sighing exasperatedly and throwing her hands up, she shook her head and walked back inside-keeping the large metal door cracked; letting the breeze in.
A skinny, pale young girl with hair borne from the reddest sunset bolted away. Her pigtails bounced ruefully when she reached far enough out of the old lady's perimeter and slowed to a skip. A smile plastered her face as she made her way up a large dirt hill, overlooking the village and ocean.
Wind swept by and blew her radiant hair forward; it ran with her, up the long dirt hill, all the way to the top. The breeze got there first, blowing loose dirt around another's bare feet that faced out to the ocean, it then swirled around long legs and pushed around ultramarine fabric before kissing the sweaty palms of the owner, earning a grateful sigh.
"Fang! I knew you were here, ha!" Gasping for air, Vanille rested her hands upon her knees, still smiling in delight. A taller, olive-skinned girl turned to face her, a smile on her lips.
"Did you get your chores done? You know Lady Alda is going to kill me for not sending you back," A perfect eyebrow arched and Vanille straightened herself.
"I DID get my chores done, Fang!" The little red-head popped her hands on her hips. "Besides, you couldn't send me back if you wanted to." She smiled and turned away, knowing full well the challenge she placed.
"What?" Fang cried incredulously and stepped forward. "C'mere and say that!"
Vanille bolted, after just catching her breath, with Fang right on her tail, laughing playfully.
She couldn't keep herself from laughing either, but it didn't help her already tired lungs, so casting a quick look over her shoulder and satisfied that the coast was clear, she stopped to catch her breath once again. But some seconds passed and her older friend wasn't there.
"Fang?" A few minutes passed and Vanille looked around, still gasping for air. "Where did you go? Faaaaaannnnng!" She took a few steps towards the shade of a tall tree, wanting the glare of the setting sun out of her eyes as to see better around her, for worry was starting to set in.
"HA!"
Suddenly, leaping down from the branches of the unbelievably tall tree, Fang landed right in front of her friend with a mischievous grin on her face, before tackling her to some cool grass that lay in the tree's shade.
Vanille pushed back, and the two rolled around laughing, not unlike a couple of rascally pups.
"Cheater!" The smaller one squealed.
Their wrestling match was interrupted by a deep battle horn breaking though the air. Still grinning, Vanille's eyes went wide as she sat up instantly. Fang, who was laying in the warm grass catching her lost oxygen, looked towards the village center.
"They're back!" The poky red-head exclaimed excitedly. "C'mon, lets go see!"
"About damn time!" Yelled an excited Fang while the smaller one tugged on her hand, hopping up and running off towards the hilltop.
But what met their eyes was not something that was expected; in fact, it shocked the two girls.
The Pack had returned, yes, but instead of the one or two beasts they were going to bring back-it was a woman.
A girl. Fang corrected herself. So, what-she's dangerous? Why did it take the whole group to bring her back?
"What's going on?" Vanille spoke quickly, concern immediately shooting through her for the unknown female. "Why is she bound?"
"I… I don't know Vanille," She folded her arms over her chest, pondering. "Is she from another… village, maybe?"
The worried red-head scrunched her eyebrows and squinted her emerald green eyes, as if that would let her zoom in on the target. "I can't really tell."
Fang smiled at the cute face Vanille was making, before bumping her with her hip. "Lets get a closer look then, yeah?"
"Yeah,"
The two nodded to each-other and raced down the dirt hill, eager to figure out this new and possibly 'dangerous' stranger.
Chapter 1- Sunset Rhythm
The warm sun was in the midst of hiding itself behind the wondrous planet; Oerba bathed in orange-red hues, casting fires through the waters' reflection and touching eyes and hair with warm embers. Noticing the time, the Keeper of the Flames; a tall, tan man, looking in his late 50's, started lighting a few of the many 6-foot high torches that stood in a circle in the village center and dispersed from there throughout the main roads. They had electricity of course, but fire is used for special occasions. This, was a special occasion.
Fang and Vanille walked in the circle of flaming torches, excited eyes sparkled at the sight. Fang spotted the village Elder: Oerba Yun Maglorix, barking orders and discussing unknown subjects to the men and women that bustled about him.
"They've been working on this arena for weeks now," Vanille looked at Fang and listened, noting that they were indeed standing in the center of the battle arena that was built every two years, and it was bigger than usual. "looks good," She said with a nod of approval.
Vanille crossed her arms over her chest and nodded also, holding a stoic expression; acting as if the whole decision of it being 'done' was up to her. But she only succeeded in looking positively adorable to Fang. Who let out a laugh, and proceeded to get smacked in the stomach.
"Vanille, look," Fang nodded towards the Pack as they made their way through the streets with the girl in-tow.
'The Pack' was a elite group of hunters-the strongest, fastest and most cunning of any-only banding together for serious hunting purposes, they were out gathering fodder for the arena held by the surrounding villages.
Vanille's eyes went wide-taking in the whole scene as they paraded the girl into the village.
Tight, double-stitched leather binds wrapped her arms partially crossed around her back, while some strong ropes wound around her waist and neck, acting as leashes for her captors. Strangely enough, Fang noticed, her hands were forcefully tied open; she frowned. Black leather wraps adorned her feet up to mid-calf, with course fur around the top and two silver clasps about 3-inches wide that circled her calves, holding the wrappings on indefinitely.
They got closer to the torches and Fang noticed toned, lean muscles that rippled beneath thin pale flesh. She was marred with blood, dirt and scabs; a large makeshift tourniquet was gripping her left calf just above the fur, but fresh blood was still dripping down her leg. That looks like a nasty wound-too much pain to not limp.
Ironically the group of hunters stopped when Fang was analyzing her walk, just barely catching a shift in her weight. Ha! I knew I was right, hiding the limp. Not lettin' your captors see you wounded. But kinda pointless by now…Tightening their grips on the ropes, a few of them went to clean out a small, unused prison cell they stopped in front of.
Fang continued her observance of the newcomer, fueled by curiosity. She wore a skirt made from thin black hide hung layered in 3 separate sections and unevenly wrapped around the lithe form, starting long on the right side and tapering high up on the left thigh. Easy to move in; combat clothing. Her top was again made of the thin leather, starting at her upper-torso. It hugged to her body, stopping at her collarbone, with two uneven leather pieces wrapping over her trapxezius on the right and attaching to the back. Shinayan maybe? Fang shook her head. Hair's too long.
She had a reddish-black belt that wrapped around her waist twice. At the end was a point of long black fur, with the rest being soft-looking hairs, it had a resemblance to a stout's tail, but thicker,and longer. It had some leather and jewels strewn about it. A hunting trophy? A dark, worn silver chain also hung around her waist, opposite of the way the skirt tapered. Strangely dressed. Fang folded her arms.
"Look at her gloves, Fang." Vanille half-whispered, Fang nodded and obeyed. They were made of the same black hide, with white fur trim at the top of the glove where it met just below her elbow, and tan fur around the middle of it. They were fingerless, with two huge bear paws laying over the top of each hand, with three claws on each paw, they lay perfectly in-between each knuckle, slightly nestled between two fingers from the way she was tied.
A black choker hugged her neck while a chain draped around it lazily, with three black leather bands gripping her right bicep. Symbols of a hunter, perhaps? A warrior…? Just thenone of the guards purposefully ran into her side, nearly knocking her over. She immediately turned towards him and lashed out with her and Fang watched in amusement as the jerk got his arm bitten into. That's when they noticed the nice set of fangs in that mouth, now dripping in blood. "Check out those pearly whites!" Fang said with a scoff.
The jerk held his bleeding arm as another guard shoved her face-down into the dirt, nearer to the torches. She growled.
"Yeah… She kinda scares me," Vanille took a step back as the apparent danger was pushed closer to them. Fang stood her ground, still thinking. Nict? Mm-no, nope. No paint. Then something on the stranger's arm caught her eye. A tattoo… of… a snake? Its head started at her collarbone, weaving over her shoulder and out of sight, also two fang-like inks on her outside left thigh. All in blue-black. Who are you?
The men came out of the building.
Overall: not a lot of cover, easy clothing to move in and strange tattoos. Fang noted, tilting her head to the side inquisitively as she thought to herself. Well, no defense means you either don't fight, maybe your weapons were taken or-
"Yun Fang," The village Elder was walking towards them, as old, important men with decorated staves do. Fang pretended not to hear him, crystal eyes still sizing-up the stranger before flicking up to put a face to an outfit-when her breath caught in her throat as golden eyes, laced with the reflection of the fiery torches around them, shot back into hers fiercely. She obviously had been caught. "What the hell are you looking at?" The golden eyes said without words.
Fang's curiosity was in overdrive now-she growled slightly as the hunters shoved the wounded girl into the small, square building-breaking the contact-before she could finish her analyzation. Nevertheless, a conclusion came to her mind. Mhmm, I know that look, I know that walk; definitely knows how to swing a weapon around a bit.
Vanille smiled and bowed her head politely at the older Oerban, unaware of the silent situation that had just taken place. He smiled back at the young one. "Fang." He turned his attention to the older girl and spoke again. She snapped back into reality and rolled her unseen eyes before meeting his gaze; perfect eyebrows raised in a question that needn't be asked. What?
She didn't bow, she didn't smile; she stood as a warrior prepared for battle; head held confident, body taught, and pale green eyes as raw and wild as the rivers and waterfalls that tore through Gran Pulse. Maglorix stiffened and looked away; he sighed before rubbing his old forehead, as if debating with himself what exactly he wanted from the young warrior.
Vanille felt the tension; usually the two only talk after Fang decides to have "fun". Like when the last festivities took place and she snuck around and doused all the torches with gasoline and connected them all with gasoline-drenched twine and then nearly exploded the Keeper when he lit them. But it sure made a hell of a view. She stifled a giggle.
"Fang," The elder Oerban spoke slowly. "As you know, the arena will be finished soon. As we do, we are having only our best warriors and hunters compete in the challenge-this time though, it is to raise moral for the soldiers, for the Cocoon Fal-Cie that destroyed our land eight days ago destroyed over half of our farms-as you know." He stopped for a moment to sigh, eyes dropping to the ground and tapping his wooden staff on the dirty road, making a hollow clunk. "As much as I hate this; Fang, I need you to compete." The girl's firm lips were curled into a smirk. "You will be the more talented of the younger soldiers, so it is important that you fight; you'll inspire many of the women, and men, that wage battle everyday." He finally met her eyes, but Fang said nothing; satisfied with how pained the old man looked when he spoke, then nodded once to accept the offer. Maglorix nodded back and turned to take his leave.
"Wait!" Yelled the red-head. Catching Fang's attention as well. "Who's that girl in there?" She said pointing towards the shack the stranger was pushed into. The two girls were looking at the Elder intently, excitement glowing in their young eyes.
"Hmm," He nodded, turning back towards the two. "Apparently the Pack found her wounded and tried to help her-but she attacked, severely wounding and nearly decapitating two of our men. She is to be used in the competition for her punishment."
Fang and Vanille looked at each-other, the older of the two grabbing the younger's hand gently when she saw the pity fill little Vanille's eyes. Thats cruel. Really, old man?
"Who was hurt?" The red-head spoke softly with a worried look on her face.
"Nail and Skylark, they were the first to reach her," He then turned to leave again.
Fang's eyes went wide, she knew Nail. He was huge and dark; a very fit hunter who fought strategically and powerfully. They had held competitions for years, and he won a lot of the time. Fang was not allowed in any of them because of her age, as Maglorix would recite to her every other year: "You're not 17 yet." Or maybe it was because he was pissed off at her all the time. She would find Nail on weekends and fight with him, he was tough, but she learned a lot. Once-she actually had beaten him, just barely though, using his own bodyweight against him-something he taught her. This… this girl has him in the Medibay-bedridden! She clenched her fists in excitement as her heartbeat soared. Vanille saw her friend's eyes spark. Fang saw an opportunity. "Is she wounded?" She asked a little too quickly, already knowing the answer.
Maglorix eyed Fang, flicking to Vanille and back to the taller one suspiciously, hesitating his answer. "She is, though I do not know how badly."
"Let me tend to her." Still holding Vanille's hand, the younger one squeezed softly in her own communicative way.
Are you sure, Fang? She felt a squeeze back.
Don't worry, I'll be okay.
"Did you not hear me, child? I just said that she nearly killed two of our best hunters." He spoke louder than before.
"Nail is huge and slow, easy to dodge. -Yeah, right- and Sky? He's an idiot. He probably tripped and fell on a stick, if that." Fang let go of Vanille's hand and crossed her arms. "And I am no child."
Maglorix sighed exasperatedly. "If you get killed," He spoke slowly now, pointing an old finger at her. "Know that I tried to warn you; I will not be held any part responsible and you will be remembered a fool tending to the wounds of the enemy." Fang wanted so badly to snap that old, bony finger in half. As if reading her mind, and the way her eyes locked onto his hand-he returned it to his robes.
"Then I won't be killed," She said nonchalantly.
"Get to it, then." The Elder mumbled, before turning away and finally being able to finish up the nights work.
In the prison:
The single-room concrete cell adorned no lights, save for the two candles by the door and the full moon that made its way in via a tiny barred opening near the ceiling. The prisoner was held by her arms wrapped backwards around a solid metal pole, that lay uncomfortably against her spine. She could slide up and down the pole, so now she sat on the cold concrete floor, with her bleeding, bandaged leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee, foot flat on the ground. The small frame flexed and writhed in agony; slices and scabs, dirt and sand all intertwining and drying, sticking hair and material into open wounds. With every movement her blood-dried clothes would rub on and tear at closed cuts, spilling fresh blood. The metallic smell engulfed her lungs; she tasted it, smelled it, breathed it. She wished that the tiny window was bigger while suddenly feeling bile rise in her throat-she clenched her teeth and swallowed it back down. Beads of sweat rolled down her sensitive skin, across her closed eyes, over her cracked lips, and down her aching back. Every one of you will suffer, wretched-
The sound of footsteps outside cut short her thoughts. What now?
A shadow stood still outside.
The door cracked open. A woman stepped inside.
A girl. The prisoner corrected.
A/N: Hope you guys liked it, I only scanned over it edit-wise sooooo there may be some mistakes. Chapter 2 will be here soon!
Enjoooooy :)