Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Journey of RedHell ❯ Chapter 1 ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Wow… I began this waaaaaay back at the end of 7th grade and didn't decide to expand on it until 8th grade when I was asking everyone for their own original characters! All this belongs to me.
******************
The birds sang sweetly, the streams and brooks of Wooden Way gurgled cheerfully. All was quiet and tranquil in the peaceful hometown which Virago, an anthropomorphic feline, resided in. Virago was in the nearby wood which was called, "The Desolate Forest," or MoriTaure. This particular wood sat on the edge of the meadow of Wooden Way, and through this forest was a small river, only about ten yards wide, which ran all of the village, off of the mountain, Kio and down south in Mayri'en. The river, Raen, was situated about a hundred yards into the forest, and Virago had just been passing through there.
Virago looked much like a snow leopard, as well as a human, who lived on the mountain Kio, from which this story takes place. It was during the middle of summer, the hottest part of the year, but to any humanoid form, it seemed quite cool. Spring and fall were the best times, however, for the people of Kio were all fur covered, and these times of the year were the most comfortable.
Virago walked restlessly through the wood, taking a beaten path from the river of Raen through MoriTaure. The feline had been there to drink from the icy chill of water, and was now returning to her search of game. She wore a tight pine green material, much like leather, and a soft silky mint green shirt. There were several threads of gold tracing through the fabric which shaped a 'V' on the chest and front and backside of the pants, striping the legs. She also wore a light blue sash as well as a knife, a bow and a quiver of arrows.
The suit blended her in to a fair extent, but her skills were enough to keep her alive. Her clothes usually changed with the season to the color of the surrounding; brown and orange in fall, white and grey in winter, and a soft green and yellow in spring.
She also wore black leather tied boots that nearly reached her knees and had a metal brace on the heel. As a hunter and archer of her home city, Wooden Way, she also had platinum blonde hair which fell around her shoulders and shone from the golden sunshine like the glint of a phoenix riding a rainbow.
She also wore black leather tied boots that nearly reached her knees and had a metal brace on the heel. As a hunter and archer of her home city, Wooden Way, she also had platinum blonde hair which fell around her shoulders and shone from the golden sunshine like the glint of a phoenix riding a rainbow.
Virago had a certain gait, a rather silent toe walking, which she had adapted by sneaking surreptitiously around the mountain in search of prey. The time she was looking for a rather large animal, because meat was scarce on the Kio for weeks and she did have an entire village to feed. So she made her way around the spiky twisting trees to a small clearing. Seeing a giant oak that looked promising, she set aside her bow and arrows.
"Now lets have a look, shall we?" she said aloud to herself before, cat like, she scaled the tree and climbed to the crown of the oak. Her talon like claws sank deep into the soft bark of the giant oak tree, and her tail swung freely as she climbed higher, brushing aside bothersome leaves and branches.
Virago had wished that she hadn't worn her boots today because they decreased the chance of a good foothold, but the leader of the village, an old venerable leopard named Noldoedan, had advised her to. Although she was a very audacious young female, she often acted rather intrepid, and had gotten injured many times before. The feline grunted as she pulled herself up to the topmost branches of the tree, gritting her teeth and withdrawing her head from the branches, with one eye closed and the other squinting as bark came peeling off in her hands and crumbled down around her head.
Once she could see again, a formidable shape veered across the sky and through the clouds as Virago stepped onto the height of the oak tree, and then shaded her eyes with her hand. The form was too far away to tell exactly what it was, but her guess was precise. It was the small dragon boy, Thomas, carrying something large in his small clutches. Perhaps a cattle from the mountains, which wasn't good at all. If so, the elder, Noldoedan, would have to reprimand him.
"Foolish Thomas, that dragon," Virago shook her head, spilling the bits of tree bark that had fallen on her. "The Elder will not agree with him today!" Seeing no game to hunt, Virago climbed back down the tree and jumped the last dozen feet or so.
She landed lightly, like only someone more effeminate could, unlike the males who tended to land like an elephant falling from the sky. She got up from all fours, tail twitching slightly, and went to retrieve her bow and arrows, when she stumbled across something rather sharp.
"Aah! Hey!" she cried, startled, and tripped, but caught herself in time not to roll head and heels over into the river, Raen.
"Ohhh... ugh... what the...." she muttered, then picked herself up, dusting herself off. Virago looked over at the novelty she had stumbled upon, not noticing the throbbing in her foot until she had wrenched the object from the granite and had contemplated over it for a few moments.
The snow leopard looked down at her foot then and noticed the blade of the dagger was covered in her own blood. It had almost ripped a complete gash through her boot. The blade had just stricken above her claw and had torn through part of the folds of skin that layered her foot.
"No wonder the elder told me to wear my boots today to go hunting," she whispered, almost laughing at herself.
'I wonder how he knew?' was her thought. The pain wasn't a big deal she was used to it after her many 'trips' and 'sprains' she had encountered on her journeys. Cats like her just had to learn it the hard way.
The dagger she had been granted was made of an odd sort. It seemed very prodigious, for she could see a mirror like reflection of her emerald green eyes in the blood stained metal.
"Hmmm, how could this have gotten here?" Virago wondered to herself. She turned it over in her hands, observing it carefully. "Obviously someone had left it here," she looked down at the rock it had been wedged under, "Or it wouldn't have been left here.
Before the leopard could think about anything else thoroughly, a deluge of freezing water poured onto her head. With a look of fearful panic, she searched the surrounding trees to find a small white tail poking out from the branches of a pine. Virago gritted her teeth in frustration and, with death glaring in her eyes, she stomped over to the snickering tail. She jerked it hard and pulled the small leopard cub from the tree. The look of bliss in the small face vanished instantly.
"Put me down, put me down!" cried the little cub, who struggled with alacrity, as if he had be forestalling this moment and had thought up a great escape plan by struggling to the death.
The older female threw the young male down, rather gently in her anger, and looked him over as he scrambled towards the village.
"Betcha can't catch me!" he taunted with derision.
"SETH!" Virago screeched, boiling with an anger flooding her thoughts. She quickly stashed the dagger in her thin girdle of moonlit silk, still steaming. "Oh boy! Just wait 'till I get my hands on you! We'll be having dinner tonight!" With this thought in hand, she began to run for home, deciding that her hunt had been fruitless. She wanted to see what was up with Thomas and she definitely needed to chastise her younger brother, Seth. She shook her head in a pleased sort of way, as if she had quite enjoyed the refreshing river water and smiled her half smile, revealing her right canine.
"Oh brother!" she muttered, sighing as the wind swept through her hair, trotting off for Wooden Way, her left foot still throbbing with pain. She made her way through the intertwining threads of lost trails until she was at the edge of the woods, and from MoriTaure was nothing but meadows until she got to another lock of trees surrounding her village.
The mountain Kio which Virago belonged too, didn't seem like a mountain at most times. It was true, they lived in the foothills where there were thick woods and rivers coursing through them as well as luscious fields of Forever flowers, but the only clue that it was a mountain was the jutting craggy edges that slanted at a fairly steep angle. That was the main mountain, but on either side of it were to sloping, fairly broad mountains as well.
These two were more like extremely large hills than mountains, for there was more underbrush than trees, other than small dogwoods or the such. It was said that the two mountains, Reath, on the left and Kyth, on the right, had once been shield volcanoes that were now extinct, for they hadn't erupted for quite a few millennia's. Virago made her way back into WoodenWay, where she first saw houses that were sparsely settled over the countryside. A cool breeze rustled through the village as cubs ran around, playing in laughter and obediently doing their daily chores.
All looked normal and serene, just as she had left it that morning.
"Virago! Dear, what has happened to your foot?" came an old cat's voice. She turned quickly towards, who she found was one of WoodenWay's healers, Sam, and her ears swiveled, perking at his gentleness.
"That's quite a cut. Did something happen? Did you run into something?" Sam asked as he approached the feline, hands behind his bent back and face shot with worry. A cub found refuge behind Virago's legs as another pure white cub chased behind him.
With a shriek from the cub in hiding, a growl from the one in pursuit, and a smile from both adults, the two cubs took off, wrestling dangerously close to the water supply which was held off only by bricks, and went deep into the ground where a natural well resided.
"Be careful," the healer called, laughing, "don't fall into our water supply!"
"We won't!" acme the muffled reply of one of the wrestling cubs, and Sam turned his attention back to Virago.
"Oh, my foot," she pondered if she should tell Sam about her findings. He looked expectantly at her, observing her thoughtfulness. Finally, and with a sigh, Virago reluctantly pulled out the dagger and explained.
"When I was out hunting I found this with my foot on accident."
"I see," was Sam's only reply. "Well, then lets get you fixed up so you don't have to limp around as much." Virago nodded.
"Right." And with that she proceeded to follow the old snow leopard into his hut. It was lit only by a small fire and the sun that fell through the windows, which was more than enough light to see by. The house itself was full of shelves and baskets with various herbs and plants, and smelled of mixed spices, of mint and aloe, and of pumpkin and ginger.
"Virago," Sam said as he located an empty pail, "fill this about three quarters full of water dear."
"Yes sir," was her reply and she took the bucket, standing her bow against the wall.
She limped outside, the pain now spreading up the rest of her leg, and she winced as soon as she had filled the bucket as was heading back. The well was located near the center of their village and the healer's house wasn't too far away, but walking back with extra weight on a lame foot was not her idea of fun.
"Here's you water," Virago grunted laboriously, nearly panting from the exertion.
"Good, good, now just hook it over the fire here and we'll boil some rags." Sam only glanced at Virago upon her entrance, but was soon quickly at his work again. The female's tail swished with aggravation and she could only groan at his request and do as she was told.
"Fine, here's the water, up for boiling," Virago said in agitation as she sat on her knees, after much effort, and settled the pail within a cradle of fire on a hook. The female snow leopard took her quiver of arrows off, laying them aside. She then allowed herself to fall back.
"Just take it easy," Sam instructed as he went rummaging through baskets amd boxes for who knows what.
"If I lose my leg either from your silly powders or from amputationm then I'm gonna beat you with it and take you to your grave!" she replied somehwat tiredly. The healer only laughed. She then closed her eyes to rest, and a moment later, she heard the wooden front door creak open.
"Excuse me? Master Sam? I've come for my lesson," came a soft, sweet voice. Virago opened her eyes but saw only the paws of a female snow leopard, for a table and couch stood in her way.
"Not for the moment I'm afraid," came Sam's voice from the depths of the pantry, "Virago's cut her foot. Tend to the water I have boiling and clean her wound while I look for- ah here it is." Virago looked behind her to see an upside down image of Sam holding a bottle of a clear liquid and a bag of powder as he stood up, straightening his back and turning from the pantry before retaining his usual composure.
"Yes sir," came the female's reply and she headed to where the resting figure lie. Virago saw then that it was a rather young female, at least younger than she by a few years. The female had dark brown hair that fell down her back in a braid, and had light blue eyes with a hint of grey. Virago thought she looked nice, dressed in a dark green dress adorned in gold, and the brooch of a healer's apprentice caught her eye.
"Hello," she grunted, as if in great pain. The girl nodded gravely before saying anything.
"This is Ro. She's my apprentice and shall be helping us," Sam offered a hand to her and she smiled.
"Lovely," was Virago's smart-alic reply.
"Please allow my service," Ro said politely with a bow and then turned to remove the voraciously bubbling water from the boil with a long handled hook, and set it on the fireplace brick.
"Good. Now Virago, please remove your boot," Sam asked and handed his apprentice several long bandages which she promptly dipped into the cooling pot. Virago slowly untied the laces that bound her boot and pulled it off of her leg; grimacing as the wound was touched by the hard leather.
"I hope this isn't like the last time when you used thyme...." Sam grinned sheepishly.
"No, it won't be," came Sam's reassuring reply. Virago trusted him, for the most part, but if she could, she would have gone to Madam Lae, who was very good at and sure of her work.
"Then hurry up and let's get it over! Hot water on any wound is enough to sting ya'know!" Ro then carefully extended the patient's leg and gently cleaned the gash.
"Ow! Hot hot!" Virago whined as she wiggled under her nurse's clutches.
"I haven't even touched you with the water yet," Ro replied bluntly.
"I know, I'm practicing. Be careful! I'm tender."
"I'm sorry but all injuries will hurt to some extent." Virago muttered and whimpered as Sam applied cold peroxide on her foot and then had his assistant cover the wound in a thin sappy substance.
"This will help fight infection, will clean your injury and will help heal it much faster," Sam stated as he stood up, pleased with his work after he and Ro had cautiously wrapped the foot in warm, dry bandages.
Virago became difficult at one point and curled her toes in disgust. Ro only looked with large pleading eyes at her and so she gave up.
"Try walking around a bit, alright? By tomorrow we should be ready to stitch it up," Sam smiled down at Ro and Virago.
"Stitches?!" the patient nearly screamed in disbelief. The two only ignored her remark as Sam dismissed his helper.
"Thank you sir, very much," Ro curtsied as she left, leaving the door open for a nice breeze to come through.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to take a closer look at that weapon you've found."
Sam turned around, poured himself a drink, and sat down on a wooden kitchen chair. Virago nodded and withdrew the bladed item from its resting.
"All I can say is the same before; I stumbled unluckily over a rock and felt it wedged beneath. Other than that, I know not its origin," Virago shrugged and handed the novelty over to the awaiting feline. He carefully looked the dagger over, putting his glasses on and leaning back for a good look at it, turning it over in his hands. After a moment's contemplation he turned it back in to her.
"Tis a very fine blade. I suppose it could rake in a fair profit with its intricacy," Sam told her as she stashed the dagger back into her sash. Virago nodded.
"I really have no clue where it came from," she admitted once more, "But it'd be nice to know though."
"It would indeed," Sam agreed, one hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully, his tail swishing back and forth. "The questions are, how did it get placed under a rock so carefully that a sharp eye couldn't catch it but step upon it instead? What is its purpose other than to be found?" The healer cleared his throat and closed his eyes, resting back in his chair, then sighed before looking back at Virago who was patiently awaiting anything else he should say, with some annoyance at that.
"Well," he started, as if closing up the ordeal, "that's that! See me tomorrow morning and we'll see how it is. Get you stitched up!" Sam's raspy voice ended with another cough.
Virago nodded, relieved that she could finally go. Picking up her abandoned shoe, she hitched her quiver onto her back, slinging it over her head and across one shoulder, picking her bow up as well.
"Thanks again Sam!" she called as she walked through the door, limping painfully. She stood just outside the doorway, a breeze blowing through her hair and whipping it to one side. She smiled, looking around the small village. It was protected by forest on every side, and the farther you went in, the denser the trees were. The woods lead into a valley with sloping meadows and luscious grasses, lapping towards the flowing river, Raen.
The mountain Kio was actually composed of three mountains. Kio was the largest and most centered mountain, standing tall to it's ragged peaks. The other two were known as Raith and Kyth on the right and left. These two were broader, more gentle like a hill leading to a plateau on the left and to the valley on the right. The mountains themselves were thought to be dormant volcanoes, or so it was said. Legend told that once every thousand years, the volcanoes would erupt and spew out gushes of burning fire that would scorch everything in its path and so, two thousand years ago, had formed the Borrac Sea. Many others disagreed, saying that it only awoke under such that circumstances should provide, and would spout fountains of emerald green fire. But then again, there were still tales that it was just a mountain and how it was formed was a mystery. People formed their own opinions and told their own stories and so tales grew larger and larger and the truth remained hidden, even throughout the world.
Virago stepped around the pair of cubs that were still wrestling, looking down at them once to smile, then made her way towards her hut. She entered the house, throwing the wooden door back, and stepping right inside, hanging her bow and arrows in their rightful place along the wall to the right, beside the door itself. She lived alone in her small one room house, with it's pale dirt floor, log built walls and a thatched roof. She used to live with her mother, but she had passed away recently, leaving Virago in charge of the house and its belongings. With it was a ring, a gift her mother had been given by her mother's mother. It was a golden ring set with a heavy ruby. The ring itself could sell for a few gold coins, but it held memories, and Virago didn't want to lose those, so she kept it hidden away in a small box where all precious belongings were held.
There was a corn husk stuffed bed off to the left in a corner next to a few shelves of odds and ends. A dresser lined the wall, holding the necessary clothes. A mirror stood above a washing basin; both rarely used. Along the wall parallel to the front door was a miniature Story Wall that depicted the life of their family since they had built the house over a decade ago. Virago's eyes passed over a picture of her mother, young and beautiful, closely resembling the leopard which was now walking into the room, feet padding softly and tail bobbing slightly with the movement. In the center of the wall on the right was a hearth jutting out, where the fire was kept. It was nothing more than a depression in the wall which opened to the side of the wall outside for smoke to trail out. Over the hole on the exterior of the house was an overhang to keep rain and snow out. In the center of the room was a trap door, covered in straw, which lead down into a cellar where meat was stored to keep fresh. There was also a barrel which collected rainwater from above in a hole several yards from the house. Every house was built this way, save that the interior's design may have varied a bit.
Virago sat down on her bed, throwing one shoe down before taking the other off to join it upon the floor. She shrugged her vest off, tossing it on to the nearby shelf in a clean place and then untied her sash, carefully avoiding the dagger's blade so as not to cut herself once more. She looked over the dagger again, extending a claw to run over the finely made metal. A highly pitched note was produced. The feline's ears perked at the sound of heavily trodden steps outside of her doorway, but her gaze remained on the dagger.
"Just where did you come from?" she murmured as if expecting an answer. Finally, tearing her gaze from the object with a wide yawn, she shrugged, pushing all thoughts about it to the back of her mind, then wrapped the knife in her sash and tied it in a knot.
Satisfied that the silk would not be torn by the keen blade, she gently set the bundle down on the shelf, next to her vest and lay back on the bed, fluffing her cloth pillow up some before turning over and beginning to doze.