Unexpected Ally
Matthias runs like a madman through the forest, desperate to lose any possible pursuers in the thick canopy and dense bushes. The cold air of night turns his breath into white fog in front of his face and the surroundings seem far more eerie than they normally would, the trees twisting into unnatural shapes around him as the memories of the haunting forest of his nightmare still mock him.
He wishes desperately that he was still trapped in a dream, because then he would eventually wake up and everything would be all right again. Sigurd would be alive; their homes would not be burning and in the morning, he would tend to his fields and bring in the harvest. But the frigid wind and the sharp sting from the branches snapping at him as he storms by, reminds him again and again that he is already awake there is no denying what just happened in the village.
He has no idea where the rest of the villagers are by now or how many survived and got away. For all he knows, he is the only one left, for if there is anybody else out in the forest, he cannot see or hear them. Almost all sounds, except for his own breathing and stomping feet are absorbed and muffled by the natural noises of the forest.
Every loud rustle of leaves is enough to make him spin around in panic, axe lifted and ready for action, believing that a soldier is about to rush him with deadly intent. But every single time it turns out to be nothing beyond the wind and his overactive imagination fueled by panic. There is never anyone on the other end of the noise, but no matter how many times it happens. He does not dare to believe he is in the clear and soon his nerves feel frayed raw from the number of times he convinces himself he is about to die horribly, and he feels utterly drained and there are several times where he considers just sitting down and giving up, but somehow he manages to convince himself to keep going.
There are moments when he can almost swear that he sees the flicker of a cloak between the trees from someone running past him in a hurry, but just like the noises, there seems to be nothing real out there. It happens several times, and Matthias even yells at the silhouette, demanding the person reveal themselves despite the danger of being discovered, too tired to care anymore.
He never receives any replies, and he wonders if it too is all part of his imagination, because the figure never makes any sound when he moves, where as Matthias feet stomp loudly against the ground and the branches cracks angrily in protest as he shoves them aside. Each time he sees the figure, he also notices more details each time he sees the flash of the figure in passing and the features become familiar, a slightly shorter, slim figure with blond hair and haunting eyes and he finds himself a reason to keep moving.
Matthias is cold and exhausted after what feels like hours of running with barely a break to catch his breath and it is strange how comforting he finds the thought of seeing the stranger from the marketplace and his dream out in the forest and he does not dare to stop in case the vision disappears. Both times he showed up before was during or prior to something bad happening, like an ill omen, but if Matthias had not woken up from a nightmare; he would have never noticed the approaching danger and been able to warn the villagers so he figures it might be wise to take the strangers presence as a warning.
So far, the stranger has not shown any intention to hurt him. So, when beckoned, Matthias follows, trusting blindly that it is the right choice to make.
It is almost like he is hypnotized. Without a mind of his own he follows the stranger whenever he spots him through the branches, hoping to catch another glimpse of his face. The road below his feet seizes to matter, and he stumbles over several roots and rocks, but he does not even bother to look where he is going or stop and search for and easier path.
He follows the stranger deeper into the forest, with no idea which direction will lead him to the village of Dalahurst and shoves aside all though that he could end up anywhere; trapped out in the wilderness without proper resources to die from cold and starvation or maybe even right back to Griven to be slaughtered. He knows he needs to keep up hope and keep on walking, following the occasional flicker of a cloak between the trees.
Lost mostly in his own thought, he snaps back to reality when he hears the sharp snap of a twig breaking and the rustling of leaves somewhere in the darkness and this time, he is sure it is not his imagination running wild. He holds up the still bloodied axe in front of himself, fingers gripping so hard around the handle that his knuckles turn white and behind his ribcage, his heart is hammering away in panic, preparing his body for a fight.
Matthias lifts his axe, higher ready to strike, but lowers it instinctually when he catches a glimpse of familiar broad shoulders and messy short hair and recognizes Berwald who is using one arm to push aside twigs and leaves in his way, and the other drags along the large, decorated sword, leaving a long groove in the soft dirt. He looks utterly exhausted and like he barely has the strength to keep moving.
It takes the smith's apprentice a few moments to notice Matthias on the path before him and he does not seem to recognize him at first, his eyes turning sharp and alert in shock. Judging from the dark stains on the blade in his hand, Matthias can only assume that Berwald has had a run in with soldiers at some point since they last saw each other. There are splatters of blood on his face, as well as his clothing, but far as Matthias can see, he is without injuries.
"Berwald?"
Matthias almost drops the axe, just in pure disbelief at running into his friend in the middle of the forest, when he was sure he was lost and probably walking in the wrong direction. "Is that really you?"
Berwald looks confused and disoriented and stares at Matthias with glassy eyes that seem unable to focus on anything. "Yes," he mutters slowly after several long seconds, and with a far-away look and clumsy fingers, ties the sword to his belt.
Matthias breathes a sigh of relief hearing Berwald speak and proving that he is not completely trapped in a state of shock. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you! I didn't expect to find any of our people out here. I have no idea where we even are. I've been walking around for hours."
Berwald takes another long look at their surrounding and points in a direction that is slightly different from Matthias' route "I've never been to Dalahurst," he mutters, and his voice it so rough it is barely recognizable. "I only know it lies somewhere to the north."
"But how do you know that is north?" Matthias asks and stares out in the darkness, almost expecting a sign to show up right where Berwald is pointing, telling him the distance to Dalahurst. "We didn't exactly follow the path when we left Griven behind, at least I didn't."
"I don't know for sure," Berwald admits, "it mostly a guess. A few weeks ago, I overheard some hunters in the shop discuss how you could tell which way is north by looking at the trees. One of them said that moss is more likely to grow on the north side of trees because they get too much sun on the southern side and dry out. So, I followed the moss and figured north should be somewhere in that direction," he points again and shrugs.
Matthias' mouth falls open in disbelief and he almost wants to slap his fried over the back of his head. "You got lost in the woods and decided to navigate it by following moss of all things, just because you heard some hunters say that was a good enough way to tell direction?"
"If you have a better idea, I'd love to hear it" Berwald mutters tiredly and sighs heavily. "I figure that if we just continue to walk in one direction and avoid steering off somewhere, then we should get out of the forest eventually and we can find our way to Dalahurst after that. We'll have better luck navigating in the open."
That instantly shuts Matthias up and he regrets his earlier words. When Berwald starts to trudge off in his chosen direction, he jogs after so he can catch up and silently follow in his path like a shadow, not wanting to make a bigger idiot of himself by saying something stupid again without thinking and pissing off Berwald that way. An argument is the last thing they need.
They alternate between walking and jogging on for several hours without stopping for more than a few minutes at the time. Neither of them shows any interest in discussing the events in Griven and they move mostly in silence. Above them, the darkness turns grey and gives way for the sun when it finally peaks over the horizon and dies the sky with a bright mixture of orange and red before it finally rises high enough to peak through the trees to light up the forest entirely.
They are both panting for air and have sweat staining their shirts when they finally stop running by the bank of a great river. "You don't think the soldiers have followed us this far, do you?" Matthias gasps for air and collapses on a patch of soft soil and dumps the axe beside him when he spreads his arms out to both sides and breathes.
Berwald does not answer at first, too busy gulping down water from the river. "I doubt they are able to track us this far," he finally says, drying off a few droplets of water escaping down his chin. "Besides, it would be foolish of them to split up and chase down all of the villagers separately and everybody split up before entering the forest far as I saw."
Matthias does not answer him at first. He sits up trying to come up with a reply, but while doing so he notices the state of his clothing and hands, and he gags.
The sleeves of his tunic are a mess, covered in different dark stains of blood and his hands are not in a better condition. He almost throws himself towards the river in his hurry to wash it all away as his mind assaults him with the memories of the soldier he killed.
His hands shakes as he shoves his arms down into the water, all the way up to his elbows and starts scrubbing frantically at the fabric until the blood finally stars to wash away and swirls away with the current to disappear further down the stream. He brings the wet sleeve up to his face, and scrubs at his face as well. The sleeve comes down stained with blood as well and he repeats the process several times until the sleeve comes away clean at last.
Matthias wrings water out of his sleeves and stands back up, hoping that his voice will not break when he speaks. "If you are right and the soldiers gave up on pursuing us, then they are probably gathering their forces so they can follow our most likely route of escape." He walks a bit further upriver for cleaner water untouched by blood and drinks greedily. "It's not going to be hard for them to figure out where we went, there are not that many villages within walking distance of each this far on the outskirts."
"From what I know, there is only one lying on the other side of this forest," Berwald replies and sinks down to the ground, resting his arms and head on his knees.
"Then we should get moving again," Matthias says sharply and suddenly full of new energy, realizing they are still not out of danger and there is a new village in the soldier's way. "We have to find our way out of this forest and get to Dalahurst as fast as possible. The longer our people stay in that village, the more dangerous it will be for both our people and theirs." Matthias offers Berwald a hand to help him get up. "You seem to have a good sense of direction, so which way do we go now?" He tries to keep a cheerful tone to keep up morale, but he suspects it sounds false and strained.
"I suppose we better continue in the same way as before;" Berwald replies as he accepts the hand offered and hauls himself off the ground. "If we change directions now, we'll probably end up walking around in circles and might never find our way out and certainly not in time to save anyone." He walks over to a tree just a few steps away from the river and runs a hand over the heavy trunk, Matthias assumes it is to try and distinguish which way is north by looking at which side has the most moss and he prays the hunters in the shop were not making up bullshit to impress each other.
Matthias finds his own tree and makes a halfhearted effort to help him and is about two seconds away from making a snarky remark when he hears a loud swish of something light mowing through the air, and then followed by a loud thwack as an arrow imbeds itself in the tree, just centimeters away from Berwald's face.
"Don't move!"
The voice is sharp and commanding and comes from somewhere in the forest out of their line of sight. "That was just a warning shot," the voice yells. "The next one goes through your head!"
Matthias and Berwald stand absolutely still, each by their separate trees, not daring to move a single muscle in fear of the hidden assailant, staring in shock at the arrow which is swaying gently back and forth from the force of the impact.
Slowly, Matthias tries to turn his head towards the voice in the forest so maybe he can find him and figure out a way to overwhelm him. They are still close to the riverbank and too far away to quickly jump into the shelter of the thicker canopy further from the water. He is slowly beginning to suspect the voice does not belong to one of the king's men. If it had been, they would most likely have been dead already rather than threatened.
"I said don't move!" The voice shrieks and Matthias freezes dead in his tracks. The voice still holds a demanding tone, but it also sounds panicked and a little soft, not yet a man, or at the very least a very young one. Matthias grows surer in his belief that there is no soldier hiding in the bushes. "Put your hands up and move over to that other guy."
Matthias does as he is told, lifts his hands above his head and moves with slow steps over to the tree where Berwald is standing and whispers under his breath so only the two of them will hear. "It sounds like there is only one guy out there, and judging by his voice, I bet he is younger than us. We can probably take him out if we want to. We just have to lure him out from the trees."
"Don't do anything stupid now," Berwald growls quietly back at him.
But Matthias does not intend to pay any mind to the warning, he is sick and tired of running and listening to threats and one man, probably younger than him should be no problem. So, he confidently turns around to face the forest. "Come out!" He demands. "Face us like a man, instead of hiding in the shadows like a coward."
He immediately regrets his words when another arrow whistles by, this one so close that he can feel the fletching caress his cheek as it goes by, and he flinches involuntarily, unable to hold back a yelp of surprise.
"No more chances!" the voice yells at them. "Just stand still, answer all my questions and if I like the answers, I might just let you go. First, I want to know who you are, were you're from and where you're headed."
"I'm Berwald," the smith's apprentice yells out without hesitation, surprising Matthias since he is not usually the time to speak up unless he absolutely must. "The other guy is Matthias. We come from the village of Griven, and we got lost in the forest on our way to Dalahurst."
"And what is your business there?" The voice yells skeptically. "Dalahurst is a peaceful town, so why would you need to carry weapons with you that are clearly not meant for hunting game?"
"Our village was attacked," Matthias yells back angrily and he can feel heat rise to his cheeks. "The king's men attacked us, and we are lucky to have escaped with our lives intact. They killed our people, burned our homes and they are now chasing down the rest of us to stop us from spreading the news to the rest of the kingdom. Unless we stop them, they are probably going to do the same thing to other outskirt towns so the king can fund his next war."
"How can I know that you're telling the truth?" the voice asks nervously, and he sounds even younger than before and more hesitant. "For all I know this could all be some story you are just making up to trick me into letting you go."
Berwald sighs deeply and with a swift movement he undoes the loop of his belt and throws the belt along with his sword to the ground in front of himself, making him seem like less of a threat now that he is unarmed. "We have nothing to else to convince you with but our words. You will just have to choose whether to trust us or not. We have been running all night and we're exhausted. We have nothing left but what you see."
They then hear a soft rustling of leaves and they both turn towards the sound, careful not to make their moves seem aggressive. The first thing to come into view is the sharp point of an arrow aimed straight at them, then the bow appears and at last, the person wielding the weapon.
It turns out to be a young man, much like the voice indicated. He is shorter than Matthias and Berwald both, probably a few years younger as well, but not by much. He has a soft, rounded face framed by shaggy blonde hair. He has alert, violet eyes that track their every movement, assessing for danger. On his back, he carries a small backpack and a quiver full of arrows and on his waist in its sheath, rests a hunting knife.
The young man eyes them for a moment before he lowers the bow towards the ground instead and releases the tension on the string. "I believe you," he says hesitantly, and his eyes still looks concerned. "You don't look like bad people, but you don't look like hunters either." His gaze wanders between the sword and the axe lying on the ground and then back towards Matthias and Berwald. "I don't usually meet a lot of other in the forest and with the weapons, I didn't know if you could be trusted or not."
The words leave him with the speed of a rushing river, and he barely pauses long enough to breathe until he suddenly snaps his mouth shut as if he realizes he has said more than he intended and a bright red blush colors his cheeks.
Matthias gives Berwald a sideways glance trying to convey the question of: 'Is this guy for real?' but Berwald seems way to busy to stare at the nervous hunter to notice.
"I'm really sorry I shot at you," the hunter stutters when neither of them says a single word. "If you want to, I can show you the quickest way to Dalahurst. If what you say is true, then you should probably talk to our chieftain."
Matthias has no idea how to read the strange young man and is desperately trying to come up with something to say, his mind reeling at how fast this stranger seemed to change his mind about them. Berwald is no help, he is still staring, and his mouth is even hanging open and Matthias would even go so far as to say he looks awestruck, even though it is hard to say for sure with Berwald.
Matthias clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair, a habit he cannot seem to shake. "So," he begins hesitantly hoping to ease some of the tension. "We gave you our names and if you are to be our guide all of a sudden, isn't it fair we get to learn yours in return?"
The hunter looks genuinely surprised at the request. "Ah, yes of course." He babbles nervously and then thrusts out a hand for Matthias to shake. "My name is Tino." He smiles brightly at both of them, but the smile falters when he faces the mostly stone-faced smith's apprentice. He still offers a hand and smiles gently again when Berwald shakes it, seemingly relieved that he is still in one piece afterwards and Matthias cannot blame him. Berwald often has that effect on people who do not know him.
"We should probably get moving," Matthias suggests, eager to keep going after the sudden scare. He goes to pick up his axe and brushes sand off the handle. Berwald and Tino seems to snap out of their awkward starting contest and Matthias just shakes his head at them, not in the mood to attempt figuring out what is going on in their heads.
"Ah, yes of course," Tino says cheerfully, as if this is just another day and that he is not speaking to two people who has just fled from everything they know and as if he has completely forgotten that he threatened them just a few minutes ago. He picks up the sword from the ground and hands it over carefully, hesitating a bit when he notices the darkened stains on the blade and stares wide eyed at Berwald when he hands it over, swallowing visible and chewing on his lip. "It's going to take us a couple of hours to walk there," he mutters suddenly sounding shy. "I know a few shortcuts though, I have practically grown up in these woods, and I know every single path like the back of my hand."
When neither of them answers him immediately, he presses his lips together tightly as if his is ashamed of his own flood of words and turns quickly on his heel, practically running into the forest. "This way," he yells and ducks behind a cluster of branches.
They end up walking for several hours under the sharp rays of the sun. Tino moves easily through the bushes without a single misstep or cracking of twigs, while the other two struggle to keep up with him as they grow more exhausted by the minute.
Tino only manages to stay silent for a few minutes before he is telling the stories about his village and the people he knows to pass the time, and it is painfully obvious he does not know how to handle silence with people, because he runs most of the conversation between them all by himself.
"Just a few more moments now and we'll be able to see the town," Tino says brightly when the forests thin around them. He pushes aside a few leaves and before them lies large grassy fields and a spread of wildflowers and he steps out in the open.
Matthias, eager to see civilization again, rushes up to join him, but as soon as he does, he realized that Tino's bright smile has faded completely as he stares towards the village. He uses one hand to shield his eyes from the sun and squints in the same direction as Tino but sees nothing distinctive but a few contours of people moving about. "What is it?" he asks, feeling his heartbeat kicking back up again.
"There is something going on in the village" Tino whispers and he looks pale. "There is a crowd of people there and I don't recognize them."