Child of Nyuvreth- Chapter 6

NEYRAND


Neyrand awoke with a start, her book still pressed against her chest. She does not know how, or why, but deep inside she sensed that something was amiss. Sniffing the air, the first thing she smelled was smoke. Immediately, she knew.

She jumped out of bed, taking her treasured book with her. Neyrand pushed the door open and soon began to hack and cough.

A terrifyingly large cloud of black smoke had engulfed the whole cottage. Neyrand found it immensely difficult to breathe, and so she tugged her nightgown upwards to cover her nose.

The fire seemed to be originating from the kitchen downstairs and soon it would spread and eventually bring the whole cottage down. But her main concern at the moment was the safety of her grandmother. Neyrand dashed to her grandmother's bedroom, to find her bed empty and not slept in.

Her anxiety increased tenfold. She was about to scream out her grandmother's name when a loud crash and a shriek came from downstairs, echoing through the house. Without a second thought, Neyrand ran downstairs, her heart thudding fast against her chest.

Neyrand froze, paralysed with fear at the scene before her. The dining table had been smashed to pieces and was afire, blocking any passage to the kitchen. But beyond it stood a gigantic, frightening creature, who was standing with its back towards Neyrand.

It was built like a tree, and stood at nearly 8 feet tall. Its entire body was plated with heavy, thick armour and on its head was a war helmet with sharp horns sprouting from the sides. In his hands, he clutched a deadly-looking war hammer.

But what caught her attention the most, was the figure of her grandmother laying on the floor, groaning and writhing in pain.

"NAN!"

The creature abruptly turned to face Neyrand, a deep, guttural sound erupting from its throat. Slowly it walked towards the bright flames that stood between them and the true monstrosity of its features became visible.

It had sharp, pointed fangs for teeth, but the rest were just a messy jumble of features. With one eye smaller than the other, a squashed-in nose as well as its inability to shut its mouth closed -causing it to gape open like a fish and leak an incessant amount of drool onto the floor. Its skin was a most revolting shade, nearly akin to that of vomit.

Suddenly its growl gradually increased into a deafening roar, and the creature charged at Neyrand, lifting the war-hammer high in the air; its intentions clearly to bash her into bloody bits.

Neyrand closed her eyes and pressed the book tightly in her arms, preparing herself for the worst. But the blow never came. Instead, the creature howled in pain causing it to drop its weapon- and began to desperately claw at its back. With great valour and astounding courage, Neyrand's grandmother managed to leap onto its back despite her injuries. Kitchen knife in hand, she promptly started stabbing the odious creature repeatedly.

The creature roared, furious, and shook the old woman off. Augusta was thrown roughly upon the floor, and struggled to stand up. By then, the creature grabbed ahold of the kitchen knife and plucked it out, blood spraying, whilst hissing in pain.

Augusta limped away from the creature, but it grabbed her by the hair and flung her hard against the brick wall. Neyrand watched in horror as the creature, still clutching the kitchen knife, charged at her grandmother and drove the knife into her stomach.

Augusta gasped as she tried to cling on to the last vestiges of life, but that ended when she began to cough up blood. With all her remaining strength she turned to look at Neyrand in the eye.

"Run!" she croaked, uttering her last breath.

Neyrand could only watch as her grandmother's eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her lifeless body collapsed on the ground. The blood from her wound forming a large, crimson puddle around her.

Neyrand stood there, shocked. Her eyes brimmed with tears, yet she did not make a sound. Her body was numb with the shock of witnessing the death of the only family she had left.

The creature threw the kitchen knife to the side and picked up its war-hammer with both hands. It turned to Neyrand and ran to her, its armoured legs shaking the very foundations of the house. Neyrand did not shut her eyes this time, for if she truly was fated to die at this very moment, then she wanted to look death in the eye and welcome it.

Then, out of nowhere, the front door bursted open and there was a blinding shower of white light that filled the whole room. The creature hissed in pain, dropping his war-hammer for the second time, as steam began to drift out of its eyes. It tried to cover its eyes with its hands, but to no avail. Steam continued to drift from its eyes as the creature made futile attempts to stop it. It staggered backwards and crashed into the fire, its whole body enveloped in flames as the creature shrieked in agony. It thrashed around before finally lying still.

Eventually the bright light died down and a figure stood in the open doorway. The figure glanced around the house until its gaze fell on Neyrand, who was suffocating from the poisonous fumes of the fire. Her eyes struggled to see due to the smoke that was gradually growing heavier, and the veins of her hands were evident as she wrapped them securely around her cherished book. Immediately the figure scooped her up in her arms and sprinted out the front door and settled her down upon the soft grass outside.

Neyrand breathed in deeply and coughed again. The figure bent down beside her.

"Child! Are you hurt?" the figure asked, his voice sounded vaguely familiar.

Neyrand rubbed her eyes vigorously, and blinked a couple of times before her line of sight began to fall into place. Her bright, sea-green eyes met Phyrion's set of teal coloured ones.

"N-no", Neyrand croaked, her throat dry.

"Good, now hurry child," Phyrion said. "We must flee."

"What? Why?!" Neyrand said, her tone rising.

"Hush, and listen," Phyrion said, his voice suddenly soft, "Do you hear that?"

Neyrand sat there and began to listen. There was only the sound of the rustling of tree leaves as powerful gusts of wind shook them gently. She shivered, for it was midnight, and the air had always been chillingly cold at this time of hour. Neyrand spent the next few minutes sitting there in silence, yet there was nothing out of the ordinary that her ears could detect.

But then there it was. An ear-splitting shriek came from down below the hill, echoing throughout the night. Not long after, more shrieks cracked through the night air, until all of them combined to form a single, high-pitched scream. One by one, the cottages began to light up as the villagers were disturbed from their slumber. Neyrand slowly looked up at Phyrion, her eyes filled with fear.

"They're here," Phyrion whispered ominously.

         

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