Collecting Legends

by Shadowy Star

Legend Seven

Raphael Cerys fired again and swore violently as the soft hollow click told him he had no ammunition left. He growled and threw his pistol, now useless, at his opponent. The burglar ducked it easily, laughing maliciously all the time. One God, Raphael thought, that wasn't how his expedition to the Lethe River was supposed to end. They were just five tourists to see the place where the world had changed. How could they have been so stupid to think tourism to be the only one way to make money for the people there?

The burglar swung his sword at him and Raphael dived for the ground. Trying to get out of reach, he gripped the hilt of his long knife desperately. What good would it do against a sword?

Then there was a sound of thundering hooves and of a shot and Raphael watched the burglar to his right fall to the ground, his forehead a mess of splintered bone, blood, and brain matter. Raphael's opponent whirled around at that, and his face was pale with fear.

"Hey!" a male voice shouted at the burglar who seemed to have found his courage again for he gripped his sword tightly.

"It can't be him," the bandit said in a low voice. "He only hunts down the faeborn…"

Raphael looked up to the man on the horse only to see that his posture was that of a very experienced rider, that his face was hidden by the hood of his cloak, and that his hands held that same pistol that just had helped another burglar to the Gates of Death.

"Fight someone who knows how to use that toothpick of yours!" the man added and dismounted, sliding off his hood in the process and revealing hair a vivid shade of auburn. With that he unceremoniously picked up a sword that had fallen to the ground as Vanessa Lary, the only one of them who knew how to use a pistol adequately, had shot down its owner. The sword was a plain, somewhat corroded blade that even to Raphael' unqualified eyes didn't look much serviceable and disgust flickered in the man's green eyes as he readied himself to fight.

The bandit didn't need any further invitation and swung his sword in a wide circle that seemed deadly to Raphael's eyes but that was ducked easily by their mysterious rescuer who danced back with easy grace. Then he whirled his own sword in an elegant movement and two blades clashed and rang, the sound of steel on steel echoing loudly in the warm evening's quiet. The bandit advanced but the green-eyed man answered effortlessly, his blade darting forward faster than the eye could see. It was obvious even to Raphael the bandit couldn't so much as dream to match the other's skill.

But not even skill could make up for a broken sword, and Raphael felt his blood turn to ice in his veins at the sharp metallic sound when the corroded blade in their defender's hands broke.

The man jumped back elegantly, mostly looking irritated at the blade's odd behavior.

The bandit grinned evilly and flew at the young man with an enraged growl, aiming for his chest.

And suddenly, it was over.

Raphael stared in disbelief at the scene before his eyes. The bandit lie motionlessly at the other man's feet with the broken blade's pitiful rest buried to the hilt in his throat. Raphael blinked a few times trying to process how that had happened and registered only now the remaining bandits had fled by that time.

"Who are you?" he finally managed as he approached their savior on shaking legs. Only now he could see the other's face clearly and he was surprised at how young the other actually was. He had to be at least four years younger than Raphael himself.

The man's face was unreadable as he looked down at the burglar and the broken sword embedded in the man's throat and only then, again, an expression of disgust at probably both man and blade showed on his face.

Finally, it dawned on Raphael who he was talking to. "You're the one who hunts the demonlings, aren't you?"

The man smiled faintly and nodded by way of introduction. "Yes."

"Where the Hell did you learn to fight like this?" Raphael asked then, staring at him with an emotion that was partly awe and partly horror.

"We live, we learn," their savior said finally with a shrug. "Be careful next time," he added, and mounted.

"Hey, wait," Raphael said, realizing he'd said something he shouldn't. "You can't just vanish like that after saving our lives! We must have the opportunity to thank you."

"I didn't do this for money," the man said simply, a statement of absolute truth.

"That's good," Raphael said with an attempt on humor, "because we have not much of that left. At least eat with us."

"Alright," the man nodded, smiling, and dismounted again. "Thank you."

Later this evening, after they had dealt with the bodies of the two bandits, the young man had appeared to know much more about camps than any of Raphael's party and had proved that very efficiently by showing them various ways to build a fire among with other useful things. Soon, they had a small fire burning.

It was Vanessa then to ask the question Raphael had been wondered about all the time. She leaned forward to meet the stranger's eyes.

"How did you know we were in trouble? I just can't believe it was a coincidence."

The jade-green eyes sparkled with amusement but beneath that there was something so very distant Raphael supposed no serenity could ever reach. "Well, shots can be heard on a much larger distance than sword fights, you know," he smiled again and Raphael found he particularly liked that smile.

Across the fire Raphael caught a curious look from Vanessa. She was his best friend right on from the kindergarten and a one-night lover when they had been teens and before Raphael had figured out his preferences. Thankfully, neither fact did manage to ruin their friendship.

Given the fact his last lover was a selfish moron and had deserved to be dumped, no wonder Vanessa was curious now…

Raphael looked away from her inquiring blue eyes and made the mistake to meet the stranger's jade-green ones in the process. He couldn't deny those were a truly beautiful shade of green.

The man was obviously lost in his own thoughts –which Raphael was thankful for– and Raphael's movement seemed to snap him out of them. But when their eyes met Raphael realized the younger man hadn't been that lost in his thoughts. Because in his eyes were understanding and a polite regret Raphael had seen too many times before – a regret of someone who knows what you want and can't give it.

Raphael turned his gaze away.

"You should be careful, riding through the forests like this. They still aren't safe," the stranger remarked calmly. "And I'm referring not to bandits only. If I may say so, making camp out here isn't what you'd call a brilliant idea."

"Agree with you totally," Dan, Raphael's second-best friend, said mockingly, "but pray blame it on this pitiful excuse of a leader beside you."

"You hold your tongue!" Raphael snapped at him.

"As I said," Dan went on, grinning, "so much for his leadership skill."

Vanessa took in the situation, exchanged a look with Samantha, Dan's lover, and said:

"Children!"

Both men glared at her and perhaps it was this that prompted a laugh from the stranger.

Raphael looked at the younger man who had a surprised look in his eyes as if he himself didn't expect he could laugh. As if he had forgot what laughter was.

And Raphael just couldn't stop wondering about that, too.

The rest of the conversation went an easy way with Dan and Raphael trying to behave, Vanessa and Samantha making sure they did, with Ray, Dan's younger brother, trying to not amuse himself on his brother's account, and with the stranger watching all this with a unreadable smile.

"I'd suggest you go to sleep," the stranger said when Ray could no longer hide his yawn. Raphael nodded.

"I take the first watch," the younger man went on with a tone to his voice that made any discussion impossible and somehow reminded Raphael of a general giving orders. "And the last one in the morning, so–"

He cut off mid-word, his eyes growing intense as he focused on the line of trees to his left. As if he was able to look behind them.

Then the man suddenly broke into motion. He seized Raphael by his lower arm and practically threw him into the small circle of light the fire cast.

"To the fire!" he shouted, running himself and drawing his weapon as he did.

They had only a second or two to get to the fire before the night around them burst into a screeching, winged nightmare.

TBC…