3. The Boy From Jiya.

Week Ago.

Jiya Village.

"No No No," cried a man who's fate was about to change for the worst. This man was the Chief of Jiya, a little village just around the Eastern part of the world.

His wife, Nyla, the true priestess of the land, was warning him. According to her, a vision of the future had been revealed to her, and the only way to save their son was to send him to the place forbidden to any sane human. But at least the Jiya tribe weren't sane people. "The home of the blood fairies is our only hope-"

"No, Nyla! I forbid that hope for our son." Pacing round the room, Chief Banster put his hands to his waist, wondering all the terrible things that had gone wrong. They'd had Gavil only nine years ago, after decades of searching for a child. This was supposed to be their time to finally raise a child, and live happily ever after. They didn't even mind, even if Gavil was a boy. Only a woman, a true daughter of the present priestess was to be the next priestess and leader of the people, but they didn't even mind. They were prepared for the worst case, passing the throne to the next in line; Nyla's cousin.

Sadly, everything was about to change, as the evil queen was already on her way to destroy the village.

"He is only nine, Nyla. We cannot leave him all by himself. He could die." Banster had always known his wife to be a stubborn woman, he knew her mind was already made up. Yet, he spoke sweet words to sooth her ears. Maybe, just maybe... she too would reason with wisdom.

Nyla frowned, realizing just the tactic her husband was pulling on her. They have been married for eighty long years after all. Magic provided youthfulness to all the people of Nyla, as long as they were truthful, loyal and respectful to the gods. And because of this magic, the evil queen travels to claim it all for herself.

"You know I'm right." Banster said, confident in his words. Slowly, he walked his way over to his wife, gently reaching for her rosey cheeks. Then, worked his fingers down to her lips using his thumb to softly part them open, and also maintaining a straight glare into her deep blue eyes. His wife was beautiful, he knew that much. And perhaps that was one of the reasons he loved and cherished her so much. "Let us run away Nyla," his voice came out as a whisper, a compelling one. "Leave this town, and never return. We could live happily, together with our son."

Nyla was certainly two things. Firstly, she was beautiful and smart and brave and courageous. Secondly, she was nothing compared to the other woman. Which meant, she was not so much gullible at the sight of a man, even if that man was a man like her handsome husband, and thus, she always recognized a bribe when she saw one. "No, dear husband." She yanked his hand off her face and turned away. "We shall fight, because we are no cowards. We shall protect our son and this is the only way to do so." Another thing about Nyla was that, she was a warrior. Born as the priestess of the town, there wasn't anything she loved more than being a leader. She would fight any enemy that threaten to destroy her people and would take them to their grave, even if it mean she too would follow. And maybe one could say she was courageous indeed. One could also describe her as selfish.

If Nyla wasn't in the front, she wasn't anywhere else. If being a leader in the eyes of her people (also, if it would bring her love and respect, mostly attention) would cost her her happiness, her only hope of becoming a mother and a loving wife, and perhaps her dear life and the life of everyone else including the entire village, was the cost, then it was a price she was willing to pay.

****

Present Day.

The Home Of The Blood Fairy.

"I think it's a child," Ciara announced as she got closer, but not too close enough to confirm the state of the body. Laying on the floor was an unconscious boy dressed in tattered clothing. His face was pressing down on the mud ground. "It's a child, but I don't know if he's alive."

Beside her, August lowered his sword. "I can see that," he pointed out, his eyes never leaving the small boy on the ground.

"What do we do?" Asked Ciara.

"Look, we don't even know if he's alive-"

"Help me!" The little boy's cry robbed August of his sentence, but it did more than that. It also sent an awareness to his enemies. The ones that had been chasing him for days now. The ones that destroyed his whole village; the same enemies that were cowering in the woods now, watching him. "Help me, they-they," he was gasping for air, choking on the well scented atmosphere the forest provided.

"Hey hey, slow down." August rushed to his aid, trying to calm the boy down. He brought him to his feet, leading him to Ciara who's arms were already stretched forward to grab him. "It's alright," he said, and the little boy became relieved. He switched glances between them both, then after picking the side he could trust the most, he jumped into the arms of Ciara, sobbing profusely at her embrace.

"It's alright now. It's fine," Ciara didn't let him out of her embrace, although, he too didn't want to leave. "What is your name?"

"Gavil. My name is Gavil." Replied the boy.

"Okay Gavil, and who was chasing you?" Asked August from behind.

"He's alive!" Announced a voice,

"Run." August instantly said to Ciara and without any objection, she held the boy's hand and began to run.

"They found me. They found me," muttered the little boy.

Meanwhile, in the dark parts of the woods, hiding behind long bedraggled bushes was a man and his arrow, pointed straight to his prey. He never missed. He was like a wizard or a god. Some said that his bow and arrows were enchanted with the greatest source of magic; the same source that even blessed-or cursed-the Dark One. But this man would like to think of his abilities as merely great combat skills.

One shot, and the poor boy was down.

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