Ralem slowly opened his eyes. It took him a few minutes to focus and remember where he was. A wall of gloomy white greeted his tired eyes. Am I dead? He thought, but his head hurt something awful, and when he tried to get up his shoulder burned. If he was dead he definitely wouldn’t feel so bad. He raised his hand to his face and saw it’s outline faintly, a darker shape among the mist. Fog. He lay there for a few minutes, trying to make sense of the jumble of memories that assaulted his mind. Suddenly he shot up, letting out a gasp as his shoulder screamed. The ambassador, the soldiers, the creature! He got up as quick as he could with his wound and looked at the carnage.  

He could make out limp forms, dark shapes sprawled on the ground. He glanced at each of the fallen men. These were the people he had responsibility over. Many of them were good friends of his. Even more had grown up with him, played with him as children, and fought by his side. He looked away as he felt hot tears build up in his eyes.

          He wanted to honor these brave men by bringing them home to their families for a proper burial but there was no time. He was sworn to protect the ambassador. He had to go after the creature. He also thought about the possibility of more of those creatures. As he thought about what happened he knew something was wrong. Why did the bird just kill them and leave? Would it be back? And why did it run after the ambassador if it already had us? Everything about it made his stomach turn in knots. Was it the way the creature’s eyes were bright with intelligence? Suddenly a new memory he had overlooked before overcame him and he sat down on his knees hard. It had been wearing a collar. He had noticed that it was wearing a black collar on its feathery chest. In the center was a brilliant green emerald-looking rock. The thing must have been sent by somebody! But why would they choose to attack a little caravan, with little valuables? What was so important?

          A scary thought came into his mind: what if I’d been out for days? He knew it had been almost noon when they’d been attacked, but who knew how long he’d been sleeping. He bent down and looked at the huge soggy tracks of the animal, lightly touching the mud. He smiled, fresh. With renewed vigor he got to his feet, and ignoring the pain in his shoulder, began following the giant footprints north. A decision that would change his life forever.

          As he headed toward the direction the ambassador had fled he searched his mind for a clue why he was doing this. He had no plan. He had no backup. And the only thing he carried was a sword borrowed from a dead soldier. He looked at the stained blade sadly and knew that it wouldn’t last against the thing he was up against. He didn’t know if the bird had any weaknesses. It seemed insane but he felt like he needed to protect the ambassador. But now he was starting to doubt that was the reason. Ever since they set out he had felt like he needed to protect someone, or something that was inside that carriage. In fact, he felt pulled by some presence. It was strange but somehow felt right.

          As he continued walking his shoulder ached worse and worse. If I don’t tend to it I’ll be the one needing rescue, he thought. He settled next to a swollen stream not far from the road and took a quick sip from the slightly muddy waters, dipping his empty water skin in also. He was so thirsty that he didn’t the swirly current of dirt that spun around the water skin. Taking off his mail and underclothes he looked at the damage. Or he tried to. Because the wound was on his shoulder, it was hard to see. But one thing he was sure of: It wasn’t good. It was oozing a steady flow of blood that had stained his underclothes. Ralem wet his clothing and tried to clean the wound, gritting his teeth in pain. Resignedly, he wrung out his shirt and tied it around his shoulder as tight as he cold to staunch the blood. He cursed under his breath. Why hadn’t he learned how to take care of wounds? He now wished he had listened closer to the lectures he was given on the subject.

          He got back up stiffly and made his way back onto the path. Ralem walked with a heavy heart, for if the creature had caught up with the carriage he doubted that there would be anyone left to save. And he couldn’t hope to catch up to them, with the great speed of the bird. The heaviness of his spirit at the loss of his comrades seemed to weigh down his body too, and he fought to keep moving. As he tackled a sharp hill, he bit his lip and promised himself, I will avenge their deaths if that’s the last thing I do. The sad thing was that it probably would be the last thing he ever did.

          The day wore on and his tired feet were refusing to go any faster. He had to force them to keep moving. The loss of blood made him weaker and he made more and more breaks. Ralem’s pack seemed to grow heavier by the second. He was starving, but wanted to save the last of his rations for later. Slowly he drifted into a stupor of just walking, one step at a time. The road became a steady drone of brown, the mist fogging up his senses of time and direction.

He didn’t notice he’d left the path until he tripped. He’d been tripping all day but this thing was larger than the regular root and he did a face-plant on the moist forest floor. Scraping the mud off his face he turned to look at the offending object. Whatever it was, it was hidden among the tall grass. Curious, he got to a squatting position and hesitantly reached out for the glimmer of gold, wiping away the grass. His breath caught as he discovered a…. box. It was golden and said ‘Compliments of the Great Queen’ in beautiful raised lacy letters from which sprouted different plants and little birds. Ralem marveled at its beauty. Someone really experienced must have made it. It was quite large, big enough to house a small dog. Tracing a finger a hair’s breath over the engravings, he lifted his eyes and surveyed the surrounding land for a clue to how this mysterious box had landed. Sure enough, leading up to the box in a trail of matted grass a sunken earth, a rut dragged itself from ten feet out in the road. Must have bounced out of the carriage he thought.

But the strangest thing about it was the pull, which was drawing Ralem in like a magnetic field. He got up and put his hands on the box. I’m going to give this to the king if I don’t find the ambassador he thought. But the moment his bare skin touched the gold it started to glow.

Whatever it was it was sucking him in!

He tried to scream but nothing would come out of his mouth. His lungs crumpled and his heart banged heavily on his rib cage, adding to the panic. He fought to inhale, but his eyes widened in alarm when he found it was impossible. Terror took over his senses as the surroundings slowly dotted to black, turning his mind almost animal-like. It was like someone or something was rearranging his atoms, changing who he was, forcing things into his mind that he knew wasn’t his own. His skeleton felt as if it were on fire. Just as he began to think it was the end, exhaustion saved him.

          He fell forward and the box dropped from his hands. It made a dull thud as it slammed into a rock but Ralem didn’t notice. He lay by the box, trying to get himself together. His arms hurt like they were on fire. His brain was a muddle of pain. In the corner of his mind he felt the pull of the box but he was too weak to respond.

And sleep came to his rescue.

His eyes flicked open. The warm, silvery glow of the full moon fell among the trees like a heavy mist. Even though everything appeared to be peaceful Ralem felt deeply uneasy. His breath catching in his throat, he slowly got to his feet, his eyes anxiously surveying the heavy darkness that clung to the looming trees like an evil parasite. Nothing moved. Not an owl hooted, leaf twitched, or branch swayed. The silence was stifling.

Nervous, Ralem reached for his sword, which glowed dully on a gnarly root. When it caught on something in the tree Ralem’s heart skipped a beat. He jumped backwards, jerking on his only weapon, just waiting for some ghastly creature to plunge out with it. But the sword, after a momentary reluctance (It had caught on a root), gave easily away and Ralem reprimanded himself for being scared like a little girl.

Schreeeech! A spine-chilling noise rented the night, alarmingly close. Ralem jumped almost a foot, swinging his sword pathetically in front of him. “Who’s there?” he called, his voice quaking embarrassingly.  There was no answer. Well I can’t just wait for whatever-it-is to come over and kill me, can I?  He thought, and with a gulp starting walking hesitantly toward the noise, his sword whipping toward every whisper of the wind. A huge tree towered over his head, the moss hanging down like skeletal fingers, brushing him as he padded over the roots to the other side of the tree. One slapped him in the face, startling him. Shhwwfft. The sword sprang out and the moss fluttered to the roots.

Ralem stopped in his tracks, listening hard but all he could hear was his hard breathing. Wait, what was that? He thought. He sucked in his breath, but the breathing continued, labored and monstrous. So he wasn’t alone! Whatever-it-was it was hidden on the other side of the tree. With a sudden burst of courage, he jumped out of hiding, his sword strangled by both of his sweaty hands.

          Something moved in response to his lunge. A ripple of black under the silver moonlight. As his eyes adjusted, his overworked brain took in the new monster. Standing there was a creature that was might have been even stranger than the giant bird. It had great bat-like wings in which the vessels bulged outward visibly even in the poor light. It was trying to take flight with something heavy. Its tendon’s strained but it did not rise into the air even an inch. It was facing away from Ralem so he couldn’t see its face. But its large ears slowly swerved back and focused on his form. In a lightning swift movement, the head jerked all the way around, swiveling so that it was completely backwards on its body. Sharp white teeth caught the light, each one so long that it couldn’t possible close its hideous mouth. Pearly white eyes gazed out to seemingly nothing, but Ralem felt the hairs on his neck raise and he knew with chilling certainty that the creature was indeed locking eyes on its prey.

 Him.

The long fox-like snout pulled back into a gruesome smile. It hissed and a drop of drool dripped on to the ground, sizzling into the root and making a jagged hole. Ralem didn’t want to think of what would happen if the liquid touched human skin.

 In reality, Ralem was scared to death, but an even deeper feeling almost like instincts drove him to confront the beast.

 Surprisingly, the thing didn’t move back but stayed rooted to the box like a mother hen on an egg and hissed again, unfolding its wings in an aggressive gesture.

 He knew it meant come any closer and you’ll get hurt.  But he was driven to protect whatever it was that was inside, he had no choice. The creature made a swipe as he got closer but he dodged it easily. It felt like something else was directing or helping him and for some weird reason he felt he liked it. He swung a low blow with his sword and the thing ducked. As soon as the sword passed over its head it jumped up, its claws aimed at his face.

Ralem moved faster than he thought possible and cut one of its claws off with a deft twitch of the blade. The creature shrieked and made a desperate flap, flinging itself backward as it sought to stay out of the sword’s reach. The black talon lay on the ground, the black blood making the ground underneath bubble. So YOU can feel the taste of steel  he thought grimly.

The thing glared at him from its roost on top of the box. Then its face contorted in a strange expression. By instinct Ralem ducked and did a somersault, careful to favor the side that was wounded. Black saliva splattered right where he had been standing, burning a hole into the oak. While the creature was distracted he lurched to the creature’s backside to finish it off.

 But the thing wasn’t as slow as he thought. Its remaining claw grabbed his sword hand and its talons started digging into his hand. Blood seeped from the long scratches. The creature snarled, striking like a cobra at his neck. He screamed in pain and stabbed the sword in a upward thrust, puncturing its heart. It gave a dying screech and fell to the ground, and its body faded like mist, making a hole in the leaves.

Ralem sat down hard, his hands creeping up to his neck, which had almost been punctured. Hot blood oozed down his neck and trickled down his chest. He choked out a breath and looked at his bloody hands. He, just a regular soldier had destroyed it all by himself. He couldn’t believe it. Then he notice the three long gashes on his arm and winced.

All that was left of the creature was the strange collar with the green emerald, that glinted enticingly in the vanilla light. He poked it and was met by the indifferent, smooth surface of the gem. Realizing that it probably won’t hurt him, he picked it up carefully. This will be my spoils of war, he thought. A ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, but didn’t quite reach his eyes. He forced his shaky hands to tuck it in his pack.

Where is that stupid box? He thought halfheartedly, and his eyes caught the familiar gold glint. As he drew closer to the horrible object, he found that he wasn’t the only one marked by the battle. The box had been torn open by the creature, its beautiful pictures gashed and the lock ripped open. For the first time Ralem saw its contents.

An oval green rock.