Savarra's troubled heart

[Ravendust]

Well... here it is: the beginning of my story. As much as I think it is utter crap, I figured on putting it up. This is only the first to pages and will suffice for now. Enjoy it I suppose.

Also... the title is subject to change... I really couldn't think of anything else....

Savarra sat stoicly at her post, occasionally allowing her head to nod forward, only to jerk it back up seconds later. It had been four days, four days since she had last been allowed even an hour's sleep. Sometimes she wondered whether it would be better just to allow their home to be taken over. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad- her people were poor after all. Their weapons had even been salvaged from the rusted farming tools of other villages nearby, they were often falling apart and when fixed they were no better off than when they were broken.

A chill wind blew in from the north, and with it came several stray snowflakes from an oncoming storm. Again Savarra's head bobbed, and her short, greasey hair brushed against her cheek. She brushed it back automatically, leaving a streak of dirt behind. If there was one thing she wanted more than anything it was fresh, hot water, but their supply was short and they barely had enough to last them through the winter.

Several fires glinted against the dark sky forebodingly in the distance, her only clue as to the enemy's wherabouts. She sighed heavily and stood, stretching and popping several vertebrae in her back. Why was she fighting anyway? Savarra leaned against the thin wall of her watchtower and gazed at the roiling clouds that were fast approaching. “Why am I fighting for a lost cause?” She mouthed aloud, her voice lost to the strong winds that nearly knocked her over as they screamed through the small tower.

“Savarra?” The soft voice of her father caused her to turn quickly in his direction, shame at what she had only just said burning in her cheeks and wondering as to whether or not he had heard her.

“Father, what are you doing here?” She managed to get out of her constricted throat.

“Your mother asked me to bring you some blankets and hot stew.” He said, setting the objects on the only table in the tower before coughing violently into his hand and falling to his knees.

“Father!” Savarra ran to his side immediately and carefully placed her hands on his shoulders, “Are you ill, why are you coughing so retchedly?”

“I am sorry you had to see me this way, daughter,” He managed to gasp out, “they took away our coal and our wood for the blacksmith's shop.”

“Why are we even fighting?” Savarra asked, her eyes blazing angrily, “We're going to lose this war sooner or later if we keep this up.”

“Why do you say such things?” Her father brought a shaky hand to her face and cupped her chin in his hand, causing her to look him in the eye.

“Because it's the truth. Look what they're doing to us- they've taken away our coal for the blacksmith shops, allowing our people to freeze to death or to grow seriously ill as you are now. How do they expect us to fight when they keep us awake for days on end to watch the army that is at our very doorstep? We're dying father, and soon our village will fall.”

“I am sorry that you think that way.” Her father released her chin and stood, turning his back on her as he made his way to the ladder that would lead him to the lower levels of the outer wall of the city, “But you must know that we fight not for victory, but the honor and freedom of our people.” And then he was gone.

“Father...” Savarra said softly, tears rising in her eyes and spilling down her gaunt, dirt encrusted cheeks.

Silently she took the blanket and wrapped it about her thin frame and quickly she ate the meager supply of stew. She knew that her parents had given her the whole of their meals as well and cried bitterly as she licked the bowl clean. Her stomach still grumbled loudly for food as she went back to her post and eyed the distant fires through blurry eyes.

Soon the world was filled with a swirling whiteness and she pulled the blanket tighter about her frame, shivering in the bitter cold that had accompanied the storm. The night passed slowly and she dared not move lest her eyes, strained as they were, miss something in the blinding snow. Finally she stood, and when she did she nearly collapsed as her muscles immediately stiffened. Savarra cried out and moved to the ladder, looking down she saw nothing but white, and something that horrified her more than anything. Her only way down had been destroyed in the night, and now she rested nearly fifty feet from the ground, trapped in the tower.

[Meluivan Indil]

Oh my, Raven, I like this. It is so filled with angst and emotion that it nearly drips wretchedness.

I love your main character. It's not hard to see that she still has alot to learn about the world, but in a way she has seen more than anyone of her age should ever have to.

Please, please, please continue. I can't wait to see more.

M.

[Andrea]

Oooh! Intresting. Please continue! I like that she's not the perfect, ideological hero. I love that she doubts and whines like a normal person.

[Ravendust]

Well, here it is- the next few pages of my story... hope you guys enjoy... and can I bribe you with cheese for an exalt? *Grins* I love cheese, actually it's a recent thing... *Coughs* here you go anyway...

The pungent scent of burnt wood reached her nose and she recoiled slightly as the distinct metallic tang of blood wafted up to her on a wind current. Her heart leapt into her throat- where was everybody? Why was their nothing going on in the streets below? The sound of a crackling fire reached her ears and instinctively she looked down again, this time lowering her head through the door.

The tower swayed and she gasped as she threw herself back inside. The legs of the tower were on fire, and as they burnt away they grew steadily weaker. This time when the smell of burning wood reached her nostrils she knew of it's source. Savarra sat in the corner of the tower and put her arms protectively over her head.

She sat for several long minutes before the heat of the fire reached her and the tower filled with smoke. Savarra choked and shut her eyes tightly as the tower began to move. It's support beams collapsed upon themselves and she was thrown across the tower and out into the freezing snow. As pain tore through her left arm, and darkness clouded her vision Savarra watched as her post burned not three feet from her. Flames licked hungrily at her legs, and her pants caught fire.

Savarra screamed loudly and tried to move to put the flames out. Whenever she moved the pain only worsened and the darkness threatened to claim her fully. Her heart thudded. Why was she fighting? Why not just let the darkness- and soon death- take her away from the pains of life? And yet she began to cry as her legs began to burn.

“Savarra!” The voice belonged one of her closest friends, and his shaggy head came into view as he tore off his tunic and began the task of beating the flames out.

“Guere- what happened? Where is everyone?” She was surprised by the hoarse quality of her voice and winced as the flames finally went out.

“We were attacked in the night. It is being assumed that tower three was where the attack originated. Bevel must surely be dead by now- perhaps she reached her limits and slept. Or maybe there was a skilled archer that took her out.” Sorrow tinged his voice as he scooped a handful of snow onto Savarra's legs, causing her to jump slightly, but relish in the soothing numbness it's melting left behind.

“What about my father?” Savarra demanded suddenly.

Guere looked over near the base of the burning tower and turned his head suddenly, not making any reply. Savarra forced herself to sit up, biting through her lip as pain blossomed in her breast. and flowed down her injured arm. She looked over to where Guere's gaze had lingered and gasped.

There lay a pile of rags, red blossoming from them and several scavenger birds hovering over it, occasionally lunging in and landing near it. Her voice caught in her throat and she found it difficult to breathe. She didn't see rags. Realization dawned on her. She was looking at the corpse of her father.

Her uninjured hand found it's way to her mouth and she clawed at her throat, finding that breathing was impossible just then. Guere grasped at her shoulders- getting a pained moan from her, and lowered her back to the snow that had melted beneath her body warmth and the heat of the flames.

"I'm sorry Savarra, but he must have been out at the wrong time. And I would have come up to get you earlier, but the ladder was gone. He has an end of it clasped in his hand. Your father either cut the ladder away himself or it broke..."

"He c-can't be dead," Savarra whispered hoarsely, "he can't be..."

She moaned again as Guere took his hand from her shoulder. She drew in a ragged breath and cried all the harder. Guere gazed at her steadily before standing, "I must seek out help for you." He said at last, standing.

"Don't go, please don't go!" Savarra was suddenly frantic, she didn't want to be alone.

"Savarra, you could die if I don't go. We don't know the extent of your injuries." He quickly placed his tunic over her and strode off.

There was a small wooshing sound that Savarra barely registered as an arrow as it shot off, and there was a dull thud. She slipped into darkness immediately after, tears forming once more unbiddon in her eyes as she let one last thought of Guere slide through her mind.

[Meluivan Indil]

Ah no, everyone is dieing around her. Poor thing.

Honestly, Raven, you do deserve an exhalt for this one. It is really an emotional story.

M.

[Ravendust]

Awww, thanks M ^_^ I'm glad that you like it. I'll try to get more of it in today...

[Ravendust]

There! That didn't take much more than a half hour to do.... anyway, hope you guys like it!

Savarra groaned and her eyes fluttered open. She saw darkness and thought for a moment that she had perhaps been struck blind. Blinking she felt her eyelashes brush against fabric and released a sigh of relief. She wasn't blind, her eyes were merely covered by a rough cloth.

She shook her head trying to loosen it, and after a few minutes she was able to force it to slide down over her nose. There were three others before her- each a part of the guard that had been set on the outter wall. They were all blindfolded as she had been, and several were still slumped over in what she hoped was merely unconsciousness.

“What's going on?” Her voice was hoarse and her throat scratchy.

“The outter wall was breached.” The answer came from behind her and she gasped as she recognized the voice.

“Bevel!”

“Hush, they'll here you,” The other woman scolded, turning to where she heard Savarra's voice- she too still had her eyes covered, “several of the watchmen were able to flee and close the inner gates.”

“They abandoned us?” Savarra felt like crying, but tears wouldn't come.

“No, they protected those that they could. What's the loss of a few guards compared to the loss of an entire village?” Another voice that she recognized, and then she caught sight of Guere, there was the shaft of an arrow protruding from his lower back, and he sat stiffly.

She shifted and bit back a cry of pain as her arm shifted with her, “How long have we been here?” She asked.

“Two days,” The grim reply came from a woman in her late thirties, “we lost three of our own in the initial attack and afterwards from fatal wounds. Fay, Avier, and Siun were taken yesterday- and they would have taken you too if you had been conscious.”

Savarra swallowed hard, “Why were they taken?” She asked, knowing it to be a foolish question.

“They were young, pretty, and female, why else?” She spat on the ground to her left.

There was a shrill scream from somewhere nearby and the small group shuddered as a whole, “That's the second today- do you suppose that she was killed?” Guere asked at last, breaking the standing silence.

Before anyone else could answer the door was shoved open and Fay was thrust into the room, sobbing and not daring to raise from her crumpled position on the floor- at least there she was safe. Three soldiers stepped into the room, stopping only to kick Fay out of their way. Savarra swallowed hard and remained still, hoping that they would not notice her.

“'Bunch of filthy b*st*rds.” One grunted, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he surveyed the ragged group.

“Why don't we just kill them all now?” The apparent youngest and most rash of the group burst out suddenly, “They'll never tell us how to get into the city, and those inside won't come out to assist them.”

“Silence Valyo.” The third said gruffly, “You are not to speak so rashly.”

“Yes sir!” He gulped quickly and silenced himself.

“Whose turn is it today?” The first grinned broadly as his gaze locked on Savarra's pale face.

He nodded in her direction and the other two stepped forward, grabbing both of her arms roughly. Savarra groaned and nearly passed out again as she was lifted and her legs forced to stretch. She felt several blisters pop and heat lance out in painful waves. “Let go!” She found her voice and struggled against their grip as she was led towards the door.

Her teeth found a hand, and it's owner yelped, cursed, and released her. The other struggled against her thrashing form briefly before he, too, was forced to release her. Savarra fell to her knees, trying to shake off the wave of dizziness that had swept over her. She was struck along her cheekbone and quickly lifted again, this time she didn't struggle.