The Paladins of Naretia

Chapter 9

"Surround him," Aria roared as she and her unwilling band of worgen approached the winged man. "Do not let him escape or your lives will be forfeit."

Like the black furry pincer of a giant monster grabbing an object, the worgen circled their prey. Aria jumped from the back of Luscious and, in a flash of gold, her sword found its way firmly into her hand. The man she had been searching for, that had been living in her nightmares since the day he had killed her parents, was only a few feet from her now. Her heart beat fiercely, and adrenaline pushed the coldness from her body until she burned from head to toe with a fire born of vengeance.

The worgen growled at him, their hackles raised and their teeth bared. But the demonic creature that stood at the edge of a shimmering dome, was ready for them. Where his wings had been wrapped around his body to stave off the cold, they suddenly opened to full width, revealing a silver sword that gleamed in the bright light behind him. Aria would have thought he looked like a celestial being if she hadn't seen his acts of brutality for herself. 'How deceiving looks can be,' she thought.

With one mighty leap, Aria bounded over the last boulder of ice and landed squarely in front of her quarry.

"I hope you and your wicked father are on good terms, winged man, because you are about to meet him face to face," she hissed.

Without waiting for an answer, she swung her sword wildly, forgetting everything that Edwel had ever taught her. All she could see, all she could focus on, was the vision of his black blood spilling, unreservedly, over the pure white snow beneath him.

"My name is Aramus, and I do not know my father," he replied, blocking the riotous swings, some of which came precariously close to his head. "But I do know you, Queen Aria."

The thought of this murderer affiliating any part of her to him was enough to make Aria's stomach churn. She knew, being outnumbered as he was, that he was trying to manipulate her, searching for the smallest window of escape by distracting her with talk. But he would find no such opportunity from her, of that she was determined.

Aria thrust her sword toward his stomach and chest, but each time his sword would block her attacks and a resounding twang would sound out her failure. The more she heard it, the more it angered her and the wilder her swings became. Soon the mountaintop rang out with the sounds of metal on metal, like the isolated bell of a chapel in the wilderness.

"I remember you," Aramus said.

Aria could see him breathing heavier with the effort of fending off her attacks. Small beads of sweat clung to his forehead, and his slatted amber eyes followed her sword closely, not straying to watch where he was going.

"I remember you from a time when I was lost and afraid."

Aramus's foot caught a lump of ice and he fell backward. Aria seized it as an opportunity to strike and, more quickly than lightning, she swung her blade downwards. Aramus rolled onto his side and her sword met with solid ice. She made to decapitate him as he stood, but he was too quick. He ducked and before she had a chance to bring her sword around again, he pushed her roughly away from him.

Aria stumbled sideways, but she didn't fall. Now back on his feet again, Aramus was in clear distress. His breathing wasn't just heavy, it was laboured, and Aria smiled. For years she had been preparing to battle the "Winged Man", whose legend had struck fear into the hearts of children and men alike. But now, as she saw his strength wain from the attacks of a seventeen-year-old girl, she was somewhat disappointed that killing him was going to be so easy.