Part Two: The Stranger

The girl rolled over, opening her tired eyes. The pain of the night had faded, but just barley. It hurt her terribly to move even an inch. The bleeding had stopped, and now, with the glistering rays of the sun shining upon her tattered body, she could see all her wounds. She tried to stand, but she was far too weak. She knew that if she could not move she would die in the wild. She didn’t even have a fighting chance. As a result of the night’s exhilarating run she was blind in her left eye, missing her right wing, scratched and bruised all over, her flesh was torn and tattered, her left shoulder was dislocated, her right leg was badly cut to the bone and most likely broken, and fragments of glass had embedded themselves into her right foot. She surely could not fend for herself. She would be left to die just one day after she was created. She almost wished that she wasn’t, that at least, would have sparred her such horrible torture. The girl attempted to sit up, but the pain was more then she could bear now. The drowsiness had gone and along with it the numbness. Just as she was about to attempt standing once more, the bushes to her right rustled. She froze. Could it be the guards? she thought. Slowly the heavy foliage was moved aside to reveal a stranger in a long, burgundy cloak. The stranger fell to one knee suddenly, as though in pain, then threw aside her hood, gasping for breath. The girl attempted to sit up, but the pain was more then she could bear now. The drowsiness had gone and along with it the numbness. Just as she was about to attempt standing once more, the bushes to her right rustled. She froze. Could it be the guards? she thought. Slowly the heavy foliage was moved aside to reveal a stranger in a long, burgundy cloak. The stranger fell to one knee suddenly, as though in pain, then threw aside her hood, gasping for breath. She had the look of a seasoned warrior, as the multiple weapons clustered on her belt revealed. Her clothes were simple yet they seemed somehow astonishing. She wore a silver breastplate with shoulder extensions under a black leather trench coat and over a tight black t-shirt. The armor was intricately carved with the Elvin runes for the letters "I" and "C", and the words "freedom", "ice," and "justice," along with a few other words the girl could not make out. To clothe her bottom half, the woman wore loose black pants, which were tucked into her knee-high, lace up, black, combat boots. She wore a few pouches on her belt and a white, silken, fabric pack that was hung over her shoulder, attached too two sheathed swords of clearly Elvin craft. She looked coldly at the girl, as though she was a mistake, then, after a brief series of words in a tongue strange to the girl, the woman stood up with the help of the staff she was carrying, and held out her hand for the girl. "Come. We must go now. The guards will be upon us shortly. I cannot afford to be caught at this particular stage in the game. Come 908, I shall not harm you. You will be safe enough with me for the time being," she said. The girl slowly stood, taking her hand, but a rather confused look was plastered onto her face. This woman had called her 908. Her digitations, as her arm bracelet had said, was 907. Something was defiantly wrong here.