Fliergast

Chapter 1
Running. Running. Running. Lungs burning. Muscles screaming in pain. She ran as fast as she could. Leap the log. Dodge the tree branch. Entering a clearing, Cheri Sember took to the sky. Poisoned arrows hit her leg, another lodging in her arm. She yanked them out and threw them back down. Oh, why did she have to be cursed with wings?!
Flying well into the clouds, she steered for the mountain cave she called her home. The rushing air felt good against her hot face, sweaty from running. Her hair was a rumpled mess of ebony. The accent teal streaks were tucked behind her pointed ears, which reflected her apathetic parents. Her burnt gingerbread-hued shirt was tucked into her navy jeans, a dark-chocolate jacket fitting her thin frame. Its woolen interior warmed her against the whipping wind. Her seemingly light combat boots weighed her down, for her wings were unusually small and gave out after just a short amount of flying time.
The Hinlisle Peaks loomed in the near distance. The tallest peaks well above the clouds, the bravest of hikers steered clear of the summit. Suddenly the jetstream caught her, sending her shooting across the sky like a speeding comet. Her wings straining, she slowed her rhythm and let the wind carry her. She aimed herself downward as she neared the top. Upon reaching it, she abruptly slowed down, landed, and dug into a seemingly abandoned cavern, for the entrance was nearly blocked by snow. She walked for a good 15 minutes in bleak darkness. Occasionally a rat would scurry out of her path, the pitter-patter of its claws echoing against the carven walls.
At the end of the sandy, underground trail, there was some torchlight from oak boughs. The clearing was low ceilinged, with paintings on the walls from ancient inhabitants. To the right, her bed was a pile of straw with a bearskin for a blanket. She had a small bowl carved from a turtle shell and a few outfits strewn about on the other side of the cave. In the far back left corner, a small sink carved from the once rounded room edge contained a natural spring. At the midback wall, she had a small table with shelves carved into the rock wall. Herbs and such were strewn about a small table, the whole mess depicting a small apothecary.
Quickly setting to work, she took an apple and a cantaloupe slice from a shelf and juiced them into the turtle shell she had set on the table. Ground-up Netherroot went in next, along with a bottle of water. She stirred up the mixture and added Chaga shrooms. The concoction now a thick paste, she took her stirring spoon and spread it over where the arrows pierced her skin. A dark green color drew to the surface. She sighed in relief. The paste quickly dried to a hardened mud texture. She cracked it off with the spoon and rinsed her wounds off in the sink. The cold water sent shooting pain through her arm. Crap. She repeated the process a few more times, each time adding more Chaga. When she was satisfied the poison was completely gone, she belly-flopped onto her straw bed.
She missed the sound of the snowdrifts being shoveled aside, nor did she notice the echoing voices coming from the entrance. They were upon her before she knew it. They ran down the cavern, their footfalls alerting her. the dogs sent her into a panicked frenzy. She sprang up but was too late. Other hunters had found her.
She backed up to the desk as the hunters came into view. Their dogs snarled at her, snapping at her legs. She tried swatting them away with one hand. The other groped for an elixir. Her fingers finding one, she launched it at the nearest dog. Its brackish contents flew everywhere as it made contact with the canine’s snout. The dog yowled and pawed at its face. It dropped dead seconds later. A few more potions of weakness flew and soon seven dogs were strewn about her cavern floor. The other eight dogs ran away and out of the cave, realizing their opponent was too strong. One hunter chased after them while another drew his bow. She groped for another potion but found none. She internally panicked, knowing this was going nowhere good. The last hunter dug through his bag and got some ropes of assorted lengths. A few were very short, measuring half a cubit.
The hunters walked towards her, backing her to the jagged wall.
“Verte circum!” The hunter (Mateo) with the bow commanded.
She didn’t move.
“Turn around!” The other translated.
When she obeyed, her hands were grabbed from behind her knees were kicked inward. She awkwardly fell, scraping her knees. One of the hunters stood on her legs. His rough boots bruised her calves. Suddenly, she felt a sharp dagger piercing in her wings. The hunter with the ropes had stabbed her wings right below the bone in her forewing. She writhed, screaming in pain but all she got was a club to the head. Stars flew in her vision.
“Maybe that’ll teach you to keep your trap shut, you flying freak.”
She whimpered through the rest of the procedure. When they were done, her forewings had been tied together, preventing her from flying. An iron circle was secured around her neck. Letting go of her arms, someone pulled her up by her wings, causing her to nearly scream. She caught herself, remembering the club. The other hunter came to her front side.
“Arms straight ahead!”
As she complied, they were poorly tied together. The hunter (Arlo) who ran after the dogs had made his way back into the cavern by this point. He was out of breath, but he had three dogs on leashes.
“Where’s the rest of them?”
“Cou’n’t find em. All I got’r these here. I see ye the flier trussed up.”
“Yeah, she shouldn’t give us much more trouble, right?”
Cheri managed a nod in response.
“Yeah, she won’t be a problem. I’ve taken care of it.”
The Latin speaker spoke up. “Quomodo ergo dicemus domum perveniam?”(How are we going to get home?)
“Uhm, honeste, id est bona quaestio. Hey Arlo.”(Uhm, honestly, that's a good question.)
“Yeah?”
“From here, how far was the tent?”
“Oh, shoot, a good 3 hours walk ‘cause you gotta first go down-”
“Eduardus?”(Edward?)
The one holding her ropes responded. "Domine?"(Sir?)
"Ubi dormimus? Si bene tibi fuerit, possum cum canibus in castra redire, et minus sarcinas cum captivis et omnibus habere potes.”(Where do we sleep? If it is well with you, I can return to the camp with the dogs, and you can have less baggage with the prisoner and all.)
The two conversed in Latin for a good bit. Cheri looked over at the hunter with the dogs.
“What are they saying?” she whispered.
“Beats me.” He shrugged. “Only langage I c’n speak is Engish, an’ hardly at that.”
“ARLO!”
He flinched. “Sir?”
“What have I told you about talking to the prisoners?”
“To not to.”
“Well, quit yapping and figure out some place for us to sleep tonight. Maybe your new friend can help you out.”
Cheri spoke up. “You guys could sleep here in the cave. The bearskin is quite warm at night.”
“Tace captivum!”(Hold your peace, captive!)
Edward interrupted. “No, no. That’s actually a good idea. It’s too late to go back to camp.”
“Ergo in hac turpi spelunca dormimus?”(So we sleep in this foul cave?)
“Puto opus est.(It may be necessary) Arlo! Go see if it’s snowing.”
“Okie dokie!” The half-witted hunter ran off.
“Finally. He’s gone. Ok, listen here, bird. You are not to talk, you are not to move, you are not to do ANYTHING without us telling you otherwise. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“At least you know manners,” he muttered under his breath.
"Edwardus?”(Edward?)
"Ita, domine?"(Yes, sir?)
"Possumne in palea dormire? Odi quaerere quam frigus sit, sed in nuda terra cogitare non possum." (Can I sleep in the hay? I hate to ask with how cold it is but I can't sleep on the floor.)
The one Cheri perceived to be Edward took his pack off his back and got out a stake. “Usually, we use this for the dogs, but since you’re here, the dogs can sleep unleashed for one night.”
“Sic in lecto dormio?.”(Can I then sleep in the hay?)
“Etiam, Mateo.”(Yes, Mateo.)
“Bene gratias ago tibi.” (Well, thank you.)
At this point, Arlo had returned. “Yep! Its definitely snowing outside. Really hard too!”
“Ignarus stultus,” Mateo muttered under his breath. (Ignorant fool.) At this, Edward laughed.

Chapter 2
Evelyn! Where are you??”
A laugh came from the treetops. “Come and find me, you goof!”
Another trickle of sweat ran down Leod’s face despite the cold morning. His thick, scaled tail swished in agitation. I don’t have time for this. Mother would kill me if you got hurt. “Get down here now!!”
“Why?”
“You know I can’t climb those trees!”
“Exactly.”
“Evelyn!”
“Leod?”
“EveLYN MARIA!”
“Leod Boran?”
“EVELYN MARIA GERVNER!!!”
“You aren’t allowed to use my full name!”
“And you aren’t allowed to be climbing trees!”
An exasperated groan resounded, followed by shaking of leaves and a sound thud of his younger, teenage sister landing. She had toppled over, her rust-colored, oversized tail throwing her off balance.
“Owwwwww.”
“What is it..”
“My wings. They’re crushed again”
“That’s what you get, staying in the trees so long.”
“Dad wouldn’t have minded.”
They were both silent for a moment.
“I miss him,” he mumbled.
She glanced at her brother. A rare tear tiptoed down his cheek. “Are you… Crying?”
He hurriedly wiped his face. “Ew, no. Crying is a sign of being weak. I’m not weak. I cant be weak. Not after all he sacrificed for us.”
“To be honest, I hardly remember him”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Didn’t he have, like, a huge tail?”
“Bigger than yours.”
Her thin eyebrows arched as her gaze shifted between him and her oversized tail. “What else was he like?”
“Well, he had gray-brown hair, with light brown accents. These clothes he’s wearing? They were his when he died. Since no one else was gonna use them, I figured it wouldn’t hurt anyone if I just used them for myself.”
“Did he… did he leave anything for me?”
“Yes, actu-”
A ram's horn sounded, sending both of them scrambling to their feet. Barking dogs burst into the small clearing. Evelyn leaped up and hoisted herself onto a branch. Leod struggled to climb the trunk. He unsheathed a dagger, fear overtaking him.
“Evelyn, listen to me. I need you to run in the treetops. Run from the hunters.”
“Ok?”
“Leave the forest. Don’t look at me like that, you know you can’t stay. Go as far as you can. Even as far as the mountain Range. Just don’t look or come back. I have to stay here and hold them off.”
“Please don’t leave.”
“Promise you’ll do that.”
Shouting drew near as the dogs continued to bark at them.
“Evelyn, promise me!”
“I...”
The hunters broke through the brush, each brandishing a spear.
“There you are! Get down here, you monsters!”
“Run Evelyn Maria!”
“So your name is Maria, is it now? What a beautiful name- wasted on a wretched little demon like yourself!” A hunter spat as he threw a spear at her. The blade shattered as it ricocheted off a tree. A large chunk scraped his face, leaving a large scar across the bridge of his nose. Through the streaming blood, he saw her jump off and run away on the limbs.
“Bah, forget her. We still have the boy.”
“Her tail was a beauty though.”
“Tail? I thought she had wings.”
“Just send a dog after her.”
“Gidak nazazu!” At this, all eight dogs darted off after her.
“Evelyn-” Leod started after her, but he was not as agile in the treetops with blood blurring his vision. He quickly fell to the ground, breaking his fall with his right arm which quickly shattered. He cried out in sharp pain. His age-old fear of capture quickly became a bleak reality. He held his dagger in his shirt. A net of woven chains was thrown over him, darkening his world of metal and rust.
I hope Evelyn makes it out alive.

Evelyn ran as fast as she could. In all her years of playing in the trees, she never imagined them being her last lifeline. After almost missing her footing for a - what was it now? third?- time, she forced herself to slow to a brisk jog, which was incredibly difficult, leaping from branch to branch. Her legs were starting to tire and the dogs were just as close behind. She entered a section of oak trees.
I’m almost home!
As she swung into a small clearing, however, she could tell something had gone chaotically wrong. The usually well-kept cottage had every window busted in. Shutters were hanging off their hinges, some completely torn away. The front door was wide open, unusual for her mother, who was adamant about keeping the door closed. She hesitantly climbed down and approached the house.
“Mom?”
A bleak silence answered her.
“Marty? Kline? Anyone?”
Still no answer. As she climbed onto the porch, bloody glass shards crunched under her feet. Something bad had happened. Every piece of furniture was overturned and pushed to the wall. The flowered curtains her grandmother made were ripped up and thrown on the floor. Walking from room to room, each was in a similar condition. In the kitchen was a note.
Gone away, probably not coming back. Watch each other and do not separate. I have the Griffons ~ Mom
Beside it was a shattered vial with a crumpled rose.
“Flee the rose, Follow the thorn…” She recited to herself. “Mother, where are you??”
Suddenly barking interrupted her thoughts. She frantically scrambled to the seemingly untouched barrel in the corner. Removing the lid revealed a ladder. She hastily climbed inside and replaced the lid. Squeezing her wings and tail to the center, she squeakily slid down the long, wooden ladder to a cellar-like cave. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, some being met with matching skewers from the ground. A small stream ran through the grotto. Not wasting any time, she went straight for the small desk beside the downward entrance. She rifled through the drawers for a small specific thing. Finding it, she carefully wrapped it in rags and laid it in the bottom of her mother's satchel. The satchel still being there was further proof something had happened, for her mother never left it anywhere. She grabbed a few canteens and let them fill in the stream. Meanwhile, she grabbed some salted dried beef, a couple of pouches of dried fruit, and the precious few healing potions they had bought from a wandering trader a few years ago. After slinging the now filled canteens around her shoulder, she boarded an old canoe and set off down the stream. As she reached the small cave, the slight disturbance activated the glowworms on the ceiling and stalactites.