I wasn’t the only girl in the group. Besides me, there was two others, both of them lean and supple, with tanned-skin that told me they had been doing this for quite a while. Of all my eight companions, none talked to me except for Byron Flynn and Grigori. Now and then, Levi would collectively give us instructions and that was it.

We took a dirt path opposite the beach route. For almost an hour, we trekked down deeper into the woods. The redwood was amazingly abundant in these parts, their thick lush boughs granting no passage for the afternoon sun’s harsh rays. Like ancient abodes, they housed birds, small mammals and some parasitic flowering plants.

I was panting by the time we reached a series of enormous redwood strewn together very closely forming a towering fence.

“You want me to carry you, Little Miss?” Grigori offered for the nth time. “I carry Luci on my back all the time and she’s quite fond of it.”

Muttering “No, thanks,” I hastened my steps and walked ahead until I reached Levi.

Without the armor, he looked taller and wiry. His muscles, lean and prominent from beneath the tattered shirt he wore were an obvious product of manual labor, not of vanity. Yet, everything about him gave off effortless grace and regality. Half of his raven hair was tied up from the level of his ear, making his blue beryl eyes all the more noticeable.

He led the band to a manmade tunnel carved into the biggest redwood in the fence. It was as large as a subway.

Feasting my eyes on the astonishing distractions, I followed the drift inside the tree. A minute later, the sound of running water could already be heard.

The tunnel yawned into a river stretching as far as my eyes could see. Smaller trees bowed from either banks, splaying their arms into the water as if pleading for forgiveness to an unseen deity.

With the rest of the men filing out the tunnel, I was forced to the edge of the bank.

The water was crystal clear and moving serenely. Fish of all sizes and colors came to and fro among the colorful rocks under the river. A large river dweller surfaced, sporting its flamboyant dorsal fin.

I couldn’t tell how deep the river was, but I was sure it was too deep for me. Anything above the waist was too deep for me.

My breath scraped against my throat and I couldn’t feel my legs.

“Grigori, take Aeshma, Elyon and Jefischa with you and utilize the nets,” Levi instructed with an air of diplomatic authority. “Seek out the larger ones downriver. Zarall and I will trap smaller ones. As for you two…” he turned his attention to us, narrowing his slanted eyes. “Elemental, I heard of you as an excellent swimmer. You and the girl can herd the larger ones into the net and perhaps, collect clams at one fell swoop.”

I was shaking. “M-me? Dive?”

Before I could complain, everyone was moving.

Grigori handed me and Byron Flynn a long, hollow bamboo stick each. I could only stare at it, terrified out of my wits.

“Use it to breathe under water,” Grigori said, sensing my confusion. “So you won’t have to surface so often.”

Skillfully, Byron Flynn tied the end of the stick with a piece of rope. Then he tried it to an overhanging branch so that the tip of the bamboo stayed a feet above the water.

I looked around.

Grigori’s group was setting the nets downhill. Levi and his partner had already dived, carrying a wire mesh trap.

Byron Flynn removed his tunic and tumbled backwards screaming into the river. Before a minute could elapse, his red head came up. “Hurry, Aramis! The water is wonderful!”

Like a rock, I stood there, eyes wide, fingers trembling against the bamboo stick. I tried to convince myself it wouldn’t be like the last time. I cheered myself on in eight different ways and scolded myself more for being such a scaredy-cat.

I caught myself laughing when I realized I know how to swim. And there were no Swarths in Halja. I wouldn’t drown this time. I could do this! I would finish the task without a fuss. And Vincent wouldn’t have the right to criticize me.

At last, my legs started to move towards the edge, slowly, but steadily. I trembled with the fast hammering of my heart, the excitement as the laughter melted into a grin near madness.

It was like the world slowed down as my feet left the ground. I felt buoyant, an astronaut on the moon, the air caressing my face. Then, like the bowling ball from the Leaning Tower, I dropped with a loud splat.

I sunk fast, blinded with the bubbles of air coming from my mouth. Then I reminded myself to swim; if flailing my limbs and screaming under water could ever be considered swimming. And when the scream ran out, I breathed in water.

Again, I was drowning.

Next time I opened my eyes, I was desperately clambering up the bank for dear life, coughing the liquid that burned my lungs. Someone was behind me, pushing me up.

Only when the fit of delirious coughing and pain had subsided did I realize it was Levi who saved me. I curled, hugging my knees, shivering under the shirt Byron Flynn had thoughtfully draped over me.

“T-thank you,” I rasped, tearlessly sobbing in silence.

Byron Flynn kindly hunkered beside me and rubbed my back. “I apologize, Aramis. It escaped me completely.” He lifted his amber gaze to Levi. “Her cause of death was drowning.”

“Dignity is such a precious but detrimental possession. Isn’t it, girl?” Levi rebuked with a smile that left as soon as it appeared.

When I looked up at him, his eyes had somehow softened. “S-sorry…”

He turned to Byron Flynn. “Bring her upstream with you, Elemental. I trust you do know how to handle a rod. Do not return until you have filled your creel.”

More than earnestly, Byron Flynn picked a fishing rod and a woven basket from the equipment. He carefully stood me up and guided me along the sloped rock-strewn bank.

My head felt light, knees quivering. Other than that, I thought I would live.

As the knoll began to incline, the water became shallower until we reached a leveled ground.

“Here’s a good spot.” Byron Flynn tried to sound cheerful, although I could tell he would rather dive. Sitting me on a small boulder, he handed me the fishing rod. “You ever fished before?”

I shook my head.

“Should’nae matter. Just cast the line and wait patiently.”

“But… What are you going to use?”

“You should’nae worry about that,” he replied. “My paws—err…”—he stared at his hands—“hands are more than capable.”

He took the creel, opened the lid and set it near the bank. The water was knee-level, but smaller fish were everywhere, hiding in between the rocks and aquatic plants in the riverbed.

Hesitantly, I raised the rod over my head, bending backwards a little before swinging it forward with all my strength. The bait fell into the water just a few feet away. Turned out, all my strength was pathetic. I could have just tossed the bait in the water and it would have fallen somewhere farther. I sucked at everything. No wonder Vincent wanted Luci to take care of him.

Like he needed to be taken care of! He was just making up a lame excuse so he could spend every day sitting with his feet on a table while Luci served him cocktails.

I missed being immortal.

Seeing my dilemma, Byron Flynn gave me an empathic smile. “You’ve done fine. Just you wait,” he offered in consolation.

Watching Byron Flynn now, it seemed ridiculous to think that he had been a dog at all. His skin was white and freckled. Without a shirt on, his torso seemed to belong to a boy in puberty: sinewy, with the muscles just becoming distinct. His long red tresses whipped as he bent down to catch fish. He looked decades younger without the facial hair.

And I thought, it must have been terrible to be transformed into an animal and stay that way for hundreds of years while knowing that his real form was this beautiful.

Broodingly, he bent over, his eyes moving fast with the agitated fish. With one swing of his hand, he swiped a fish off the water and onto the bank an inch shy of the creel. The fish jumped and shuddered, eventually falling very still. He went on watching the fishes and in timing, swung at the fish, sending it flying to the ground, instead of the creel.

Slightly frustrated, he sloshed back to pick up the fish before chucking them into the container.

How easy was that?

Jadedly, I stared at the fishing rod. It was obvious I wasn’t bound to catch anything. Byron Flynn was just too nice to tell me I was screwing up.

After wedging the rod between the rocks so it stood up by itself, I got up and collected the fish that missed the creel. I washed them before putting them in.

When the creel was halfway to the brim, he paused to straighten his back. “You’ve acted strange in front of the master. Is somethin’ the matter?”

“A lot of things.” As I got to thinking, I added “Actually, nothing. It’s just…”—I shook my head—“complicated.”

As though that made sense to him, he nodded before getting back to catching fish. “It’s true though, it seems. What Master Levi said? The premise about dignity, that is.”

I shrugged.

“I was a noble once… long time ago.” His amber eyes had that wistful as he straightened to look up at the sky. “Pride was all I knew. At least, it was all I can remember now. By the time my soul had assimilated with nature, I had forgotten most of my past, my reason. When Master Vladimir caught me in my Elemental form, nothin’ was left except of my memories except the name Byron. Was’nae even sure if it was mine at all.

“I was nothin’ short of willful despite our agreement. How dare he, a mere child trap me, a noble into a contract of eternal servitude? And in such hideous form? I doubted and despised the world for all that had befallen upon me. For the longest time, I clung to my pride thinkin’ it as my only salvage.”

Instinctively, my eyes rolled. “And your point is?”

He set his eyes on me, a smile of sympathy on his lips. “Sometimes, we imprison ourselves to avoid the potential of grief, when in reality; we are constantly miserable unless we step out of our boxes and try to find happiness.”

Just got schooled by a dog. Neat.

As much as I would hate to admit it, his long winding lecture made perfect sense. I found myself smiling at the ground wondering why we hadn’t done this conversation sooner.

“Byron Flynn?”

He lifted his eyes to me while hauling the filled-up creel over his shoulder.

“Your real name… Do you remember it?”

Dropping his ocher gaze, he thought for the longest time in silence, his gingery brows furrowing in concentration. Just when I thought what I asked from him was impossible, he suddenly murmured “G-george,” in a daze, laughing quietly as he met my eyes. “You can call me George.”

I returned his smile. “Nice to meet you, George.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, did you like this chapter? The next parts are going to more actiony (s'that even a word?) more mysteries are to be unraveled so brace yourselves and see you next Sunday! Get in touch with me through Twitter and Facebook so I can  get back to you sooner! Thanks a ton, guys! You're the best!