Mark

Boom! An ancient oak tree shatter to splinter to his left. Showering his feet with pieces of burnt wood.
He pulled his feet in closer to him, cowering in the shelter of a little overhang. The stream had dried up a few weeks before, leaving a rocky bed in its place, and the little recess where Mark was hiding. Mud and sticks were pulled close as a barrier from the elements, wind, rain, and...fire.
The atmosphere was alive with cloudfire. Every few second a flash would announce the stike of cloudfire. It looked like a crack in a window, running from air to ground like a fissure in the sky. Smoldering fires were evidence that was left behind, like a burning scar.
His dad had told him that the fire had killed many out on the plains, and that if your out on the plains when it occurs to take cover. Well, he got the cover part down, but the storm has been raging for almost six hours. At least it seemed like six, the mind like to play tricks on the beholder.
As he looked around he say nothing alive. No sqirrels, nutrats, or forest mice. The birds wern't singing, they couldn't sing if they wern't there. The only sound was the howling of the wind throught the tops of trees and the cloudfires clap.
Sitting in the root-laced dirt he was thinking of Creg. He was supposed to meet Creg on Spear Rock out on the foothills to the Eastern Tombs for one of his adventures. Adventures that were normally harmless but exciting. Mark remembered the times where they went to Ter'Mul, one of the ancient elven outposts in the Ter pass the the south. They had gotten caught in the Mage's Tower grounds and held until their parents came to bail them out. That was about as dangerous as the got as of late. They were wiser then when they were young so they hadn't gotten caught in a good long while. Well I guess they wouldn't be going on this one now.
He'd been ansious to get out of Smith due to the festival. He hated living in town, too many people that could stick a knife in your back when you wern't looking. The festival didn't help that a bit. People had been arriving for weeks from the neighboring villages to join in the New Age celebrations. An annual event that was started when the Emperor of the Free Peoples rose to power. Every big town was celebrating this week, at least every human one. Mark prefered the wilderness, soclution from the dangerous people of the world.
The only reason they lived in the city was because his dad had been called upon by the council to lead them in the ways of war. Seeing as how his dad used to be a respected general with the Jerico Union a few years back. They used him in there struggle with some of the resistance to the southwest. Smith was a stepping stone to the castles bordering the Andarian Steppes, which was home to the roaving bands of uncivilized bandits and mongrels. Or so his dad said. The people of the world should be left to there own rule, not harnessed and put under reign. He'd run his beleifs past his father and had gotten sound feedback, but his dad said it was good pay.
BOOM! Rocks showered of the edge of the overhanging, further encasing him in what seemed like his perminate tomb.
"Help", A muted voice reverberated in his small tomb.
Maybe he was imaging things, nobody was stupid enough to be caught outside with cloudfire. Many thought it had a mind of its own and could seek out its victims. If it really was somebody, they would probuly go away and seek cover, at least if they were sane.
"Help me", The voice came again, it was like the voice of a lost spirit, wandering till it found a place to rest. Some outlander had probuly got themselves lost and were a little daft. It was against Mark's nature to abandon someone in need, but to go out there was almost sure suicide.
"Please... someone", The voice erupted in racking sobs, it was a womans voice. It wasn't like a spirit anymore, it was more like an animal stuck in a trap, knowing it was going to die.
Leaping through the encasement into the chaos, he spun around to search for the woman in distress. Nothing was there. He could have sworn the person was almost on top of him. The world was silent as Mark strained to locate her. Nothing...
Looking up and down the stream bed he saw nothing. It was empty except for a dirty bundle resting face down on the riverbank...
Running as fast as he could down the ditch, the lady was about a thirty feet down the stream, any farther and she would have disappeared around the next bend. Scrambling next to the bundle the turned he over.
Her face would have been pretty, except for the fact that it was cut and scraped, letting blood run free down he cheeks. Dirt covered her from head to toe and her brown-blonde hair was plastered to face, entangled with clumps of dirt and grass. She was out cold, shallow breaths barely escaping her red lips.
Taking her in his arms he started off towards the makeshift shelter. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something shiny half buried in the muck. Ajusting her feather like weight to one arm he fished the object out of the mud.
It was a rich green gemstone that was about the size and shape of an egg. It was almost perfect, almost flawless, except a small black spot in the center the size of a marble. The spot seemed to draw his eyes. The encasing of perfect emerald was almost worth the mud he'd fished it out of compared to that black spot. It was like a void with nothing beyond, seeming to actually draw the light directly from the air around it. He could get lost in it, it was so beautiful, maybe she wouldn't notice if he kept it. Tearing his eyes away he stood there.
What am I thinking.
Shoving the stone in his pocket he hoised her closer so she was secure and started towards his little cave. A rain had started to fall, making a shallow rivlet down the center of the bed. He hoped it would last a little while to end this horrible drough that was affecting everyone on the plains.
Ducking under the sod roofing the noticed for the first time that there wasn't enough room in the cave for the both of them in its current state. It was barely big enough for him...
Taking a flat rock from the bed he laid the lady under the right part of the embankment and started working the ground loose on the left, hoping to make an abid shelter for the two of them.
Studying the women closer he notice she was pale, like someone who has been indoors for most of her life. She would have been breathtaking if not for that. She had dark purple bruises dotting her arms and legs, more than likly from her reckless running through the forest. She had what looked like a fancy white laced dress, well at least it used to be. Not something to go into a forest with, more like a ballroom or some other fancy event. Well it would seem she had either came from some feast in Smith or had abandoned the road in fright of the storm. The question was why all this way, they were in the heart of Waterwood. Not exactly the place to go stubbling into if you havent lived there for a good long time. Well too late to tell her that.
He had made the embankment big enough to fit both of them laying down with room to spare. Definitly not the queens bed quarters but at least they could recline. Pulling her deeper into the shallow cave, he piled up some of the dirt and roots into a crude sort of headrest for the lady. He wasn't really worried about the state of her hair because it was about as dirty as it could get. When to finally got her all situated he pulled off his cloak and covered her the best he could, she was freezing cold.
After he restored the barrier he had demolished moments before he made his own little mound of dirt and laid back and crossed his feet.Staring up at the naked roots that seem despratly to be reaching for the warm soil, he thought of what had all happend this morning on his walk here and the events that led up to his finding this maiden. Maybe he was about to go on an adventure of his own. He hoped it wasn't going to be too dangerous, he'd seen danger many times before and he didn't think his eyes could handle its ugly stare.
With set on the future his eyes finally closed, encasing him in the minds natural barrier from most of the elements. Sleep.

He awoke abruptly with a foot to the groin. His eyes burst open to see that the lady had kicked in her sleep. Gasping for air he tried to ease the pain. Why did she have to kick him there...
After laying there for what seemed like forever he took a peak outside. Day was breaking and the storm had stopped. The top half of a tree was about ten feet away from their burrow. It was just one of the few pieces of debre that littered the stream. He could hear a small trickle of running water. It must have rained pretty good.
In the back of the burrow the lady cowered like a cornered animal. She must have just woke. Mark was just glad she had awoke. During the night she had screamed and hallored in her sleep like a madwoman.
"Hi...It's alright, the storm is over the cloudfire won't get you", he tried to say in a soothing voice. He wasn't so sure himself.
"Cl..Cloud..fire",she looked like she didn't know what the hell he was talking about.
"Sure, you know the big flashes and all the fire. It's all over now, it's gone",she must be daft if she did't know what cloudfire was.
"I...I have to get away from here...now", She lept for the exit like it was as he had described it before, a tomb.
He quickly grabbed her around the waist,"Hey,hey,hey your not going nowhere till you tell me why you need to get away from here".
"Let go",she started to kick and clawing at his hand.
"Cut it out, madwoman"
Slowly she stopped kicking and settled back into the cave.
"Now tell me, what are your aparently running from",he said, not sure if she was done or just getting started.
Plopping down onto the mount of dirt she had used as a pillow during the night she met his eyes with a glare. Dried blood was caked on her face, sticking hair along with it.
"What i'm running from is none of your bussiness, and as for the matter of you taking me in, well here...",she pressed a piece of silver into his palm. Even though she was doing a good job of putting on a mask of calmness, Mark could tell she was terrified.
"You don't have to put on this act", she put on a curious look," I know you terrified of something".
Looking into her eyes he saw them fill with tears while the corners of her lips quivered. All of a sudden she started to weep. Resting her head on his shoulder he tried to comfort her. She was mumbling jibberish into his shoulder as she cried. He could tell something horrible was chasing her because she sobbed for a long, long time.
Finally she pulled her head from his shoulder and inspected him up and down. Her eyes rested on the left pocket in the inside of his cloak.
"Um, I'd like my possesion back now please", She commanded like she hadn't just been crying her heart out on his shoulder.
Digging in his pocket he pulled out the egg sized stone. It again seemed to draw him in. He held in in his palm, eyes focused on the black void. He barely noticed her eyes boring down on him. Quickly, but with great effort he held his palm out to her.
"Drop it", She said.
"But..."
"Drop it",she said firmly.
So he slowly tilted his hand, the stone rolled out of his hand. It seemed like an eternity before the stone hit the ground, slowly tumbling through the air.
Once it hit the ground he felt something like when you pulled out a tooth. He didn't know the tooth had been there but he was sure now that the stone had done something.
Hastily she swiped the stone up. He'd seen beggers on the streets in the square scramble to pick up coins, none had been as quick to grab them as she greedily had. He couldn't explain the greed part, it was her stone, it was just that some part of him felt as if she had been greedy, almost vile.
"Well, what is chasing you", he pressed her.
"The mongrel shamans of the south", she stated flatly, like it was some sort of common knowlege.
"Mongrel shamans? What the hell are they and what do they have to do with you?"he said all at once in a gasp. He had herd of crude magics in the south but never anything significant. Most of it was floating objects and shifting winds. Never anything that really threatened the empire.
"They are the elders of the tribes, very dangerous... They are after me to collect...",Her eyes slid to the ground along with two shimmering tears.
"Collect... for what",He asked her quietly, scared the mongrels would hear them somehow.
"I took the sou... I took something from them to protect others", she was hiding something, she couldn't have made more obvious.
"Well what could be so important that they would case you all the way from the steppes?", the steppes were a long way off, and the mongrels would have been caught long before they got to Smith.
"It's not something that conserns you",She snapped at him, eyes narrowing.
"Well,if we are going to be friend we need to tell each other stuff",he put in.
"Friends?"
He slapped himself on the forehead, he was so stupid,"You know we have been talking for all this time and I still don't know your name".
"Grace, and..."
"Markin Devra, you can call me Mark if you like"
"Well Mark I think I should be on my way", Dirt flew as she scrambled out into the open.
Following her out he quickly caught up to her and gently grabbed her arm.
"We can go to Smith, my dad would love to meet you, he always liked to talk to outlanders",He asked her, hoping she would accept. He wanted to know more about her. She had danger following her and he didn't want her do get overcome by it.
"Oh...Um,I thought you knew," she stood there staring at her feet as she kicked at a rock that wasn't there.
"Knew what..."
"Smith...it's gone..."
He fell to his knees from the shock. It couldn't be, all his friends, his dad, Old Mr.Hobsen who lived next door. All gone.
"No you must be mistaken. It's not possible", He could feel the hot tears run down his cheeks, soaking into the ground with the rain.
"I saw it fall myself, the shamans made the storm that leveled the city",she was at his shoulder, hands making tight circles on this back, trying to comfort him.
"I have to see with my own eyes",he had to see this for himself, if he didn't he knew he would regret it.