CHAPTER 2 | The Stranger With Gold Hilted Swords

The thing was a deadly beast at least twice her height. It was sleek, and vicious, with gleaming red eyes that burned with unholy fire, pointed fins lined its body with slippery black plating. Its skin was twisted with strange colored patches that moved across its body like sickly ink seeping through its flesh as it stood on two singular legs. The arms of the beast ended in flat palms with three long claws where fingers should've been.

Her knuckles went nearly as white as her horror-struck face from the way she gripped her dagger. She'd never seen anything like it before, monsters like this should not have been inside the kingdom. She took a step back, then another as it watched her with hungry eyes.

The hideous beast suddenly lurched forward to grab her, but Lyra was too quick and leaped away. She sprinted through the forest and tried her best not to slip and slide on the rain-slicked grass. She grimaced as she glanced down at her leg, that thing had clawed a deep cut into her skin before she had evaded its grasp. It burned profusely, but she did not let it slow her down, she could still hear its footsteps chasing after her.

Lyra's breaths were growing shallow, and her heart pounded against her ribcage as if it were trying to escape. She feared that her pursuer would soon out-run her. She could hear it growing closer, quickly closing the gap with its superior stamina. She picked up her pace, shoving her last bits of energy into her legs, but to her utter horror, slipped on the grass and fell flat on the ground.

The creature bounded towards her and before she could recover her footing had pinned her to the ground with its massive claws. Lyra shoved her dagger upwards and into the beast's chest, but the thing did not even flinch. She recoiled in horror as its claws dug deep into her arm and pulled it away from the weapon that she had impaled it with. She cried out in pain at the gash in her arm that now dripped with crimson red and rain.

Black blood dripped from where she had stabbed the creature hovering above her, and as it dribbled down onto her skin it burned like alcohol on an open wound. She struggled against its hold, kicking, and flinging her body about with reckless abandon, but it would not let go.

Lyra had never been a terrible fighter, she'd won her fair share of street scuffles, but this was something entirely different. Lyra was a thief, not an assassin, and she was no match for the mass of crazed gluttony drooling above her.

Then she heard it, the voice of a young man, and the hooves of a horse beating against the sodden soil and grass.

She froze. The beast's claws dug deeper into her arm, and just as that voice cut through the rain, Lyra felt herself being jerked from the ground only to be slammed back down. She screeched as her body was crushed back against the forest floor, so quick that she had no time to prepare at all.

She fought against the weight of the creature crushing her but to no avail, then heard someone say, "Enough."

The creature screeched and squirmed wildly as though it were in immense pain, but Lyra's eyes were too blurred and squinted to see what had happened.

The weight lifted from her and scuttered off into the forest where it'd surely bleed out and die. But not without leaving a trail of sizzling dark blood in its wake. Lyra looked up, and if it weren't already so, the breath would've been knocked from her lungs upon seeing who had saved her.

He was a tall man, lean but well-muscled, and wearing light armor that bore the crest of a black swan. His garb seemed out of place for a simple hunt, but she reasoned that he must be a lord or something of the like. He was handsome, with fair skin and a tinge of light brown hair that matched his hazel eyes. He couldn't have been much older than her. He held a long sword loosely in his right hand and stood tall as if he was preparing for another attack. Lyra couldn't help but wonder why his sword had been so much more effective than her dagger.

The man grabbed her hand and helped her to her feet. His nose crinkled slightly from the smell of her, and Lyra couldn't help but shrink away in shame. Nevertheless, she tried her best to stand on her own, but swayed a bit, as though she'd had a bit too much to drink.

She looked down at his blade, it was coated with the dark blood of the creature he stabbed earlier. Her stomach turned as she secretly prayed that the creature was indeed dead.

"Are you alright?" the stranger asked, pulling her from her stupor.

Lyra took a moment to compose herself. She stared at the ground attempting to digest everything she had just witnessed. She blinked and looked back at the man who was still holding her up by her good arm. She tried to shake off his grip, but he was holding her too tightly and she was too drained to give it much more effort.

"I'm fine, thank you. Now if you'll go, I have business to attend to."

The man before her looked shocked as though his ego had taken as hard a blow from her rejection. Quickly, his look was overcome by something akin to amusement.

"Now, just what kind of man would I be to leave a lady such as yourself in a state like this?"

Lyra almost snorted, but she looked down at the state of her tattered body and clothes and couldn't help but agree. The blood in her veins had turned black, and spidered outwards everywhere the beast had punctured her skin; and now as the adrenaline began to dissipate, she found herself in excruciating pain where her body had been infected.

Her mind flipped back to the image of the creature she'd found earlier, swollen, and dead with its organs turned midnight. She swallowed nervously and looked back towards her rescuer.

"What did it do to me?" Lyra asked almost tentatively.

"That's what we're going to find out," he replied.

"So… you don't know...?"

"Not quite… but," he paused, almost unsure, "I know someone who might, someone who could help you at the very least."

She winced as the pain in her legs suddenly heightened, and the man hurried towards his horse to mount them both. Lyra didn't protest.

She slid into the saddle behind him despite her body protesting with every move. The man said nothing at her clumsiness, instead, he turned ahead and began to ride off.

"It's a good thing I found you," he said, "you would've been made into mincemeat if I'd come a second later."

Lyra didn't respond. For all his chivalrous words, she did not trust him. She did not trust anybody. Ever. That was her rule, and she planned to stick by it. Anyways, she was starting to feel dizzy and was in no mood to speak as her head spun.

The horse quickened its pace, and Lyra soon found herself having to hold on to the man's waist just to stay upright. They skirted through the woods, riding to the edge of the town before the man turned his horse onto a beaten path that Lyra was unfamiliar with.

He at first didn't appear to be nobility, though his armor was certainly fine enough. But he didn't have that same snobbish pride that oozed from a typical noble's every action. His attitude and honor, as gentle and considerate as it had been, surely could not have belonged to such a man. He must be military then, perhaps a guard, Lyra thought. But another look at the gold hilts of his sheathed swords made her rethink her assumptions.

*

They rode for what felt like hours along the cobblestone paths of the city. Lyra couldn't tell if the poison had anesthetized her legs or if they'd simply fallen asleep. She was careful to not make eye contact or acknowledge the man in her discomfort. But, after a long stretch of silence, she finally broke, "where are you taking me?"

"I'm taking you to the palace." He looked almost smug as he reveled in her shocked expression, but Lyra was quick to feign indifference.

"And who says I want to go to the palace?" The palace was not the kind of place a thief wanted to be caught dead in, but as she felt her legs numb further, she realized that she probably had no choice.

"Nobody. You get to choose if you want to or not. I'm only offering the chance to get some help."

The man took her silence as agreement enough and continued to ride towards their destination.

*

It wasn't long until the palace glided into their view.

It was a large stone castle that loomed against the gray skies. A temple and mansions so lavish that they could've been castles all on their own were stacked off to the sides. In front of the structure, lay a lush and manicured hedge maze. Beneath all the gardens and white-washed houses stood a marble wall. Atop the wall, was an entry gate guarded by a few soldiers.

As the pair entered through the gates, the guards bowed, and confusion quickly set in on Lyra. Why had the men bowed? Lyra reeled at the possibility of the young man before her being a royal. He couldn't be. Could he?

Her throat seemed to close and cut off her air. She couldn't tell whether it was from anticipation or the spreading poison.

"Just who are you?"