A more recent work

I just finished writing this. It's not nearly done (simply a beginning, even). I'd like CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM. This means, if you don't like something, tell me WHY you didn't like it. Further, if you like something, tell me why you like it. Both of these tell me what to add/remove now and in the future.

The trees seemed to blur together as his legs carried him through the forest. He could feel tunnel vision setting in, his senses heightening to find the path that would lead him away. He bound over fallen logs, grinding dead leaves and limbs into the ground. He was perpetually on the edge of breath, his legs giving a low, droning ache.

In the distance, a clearing grew into view. The open would surely mark his presence, and there could be no telling of an ambush. This path was to be avoided. He cut to the left and skid to a halt – a rustle in the distance. He pressed his back against a tree and caught his breath. The rustling grew louder, though its pace was slow. He crouched down and crept behind the trees. They didn't expect him to make it this far this fast – he was in the advantage.

He pulled his dagger from his belt, his bare knuckles whitening, fingers stretching from their brown leather glove to seized its metal handle. His hands shook – the adrenaline still flowing through his veins. His senses were on edge, misfiring at every motion of the leaves.

The walking slowed as it drew to his presence. Did they find him? There was no time!

He leapt from his cover and extended his elaborately engraved dagger towards his –

She shrieked, pulling her hands to her mouth. Her brown wings curled about her as to guard her. She was small, young – bright blue eyes lost amongst brown hair. He glanced at her feet.

“A harpy?”

She nodded.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Walking,” she squeaked. She would be no danger to him.

He sheathed his dagger. “Which way did you come from?”

She pointed.

“There's danger this way – lead me to where you came from.”

She nodded and began running. He wasted no time in following.

“Faster!” he called from her heel.

“Are you sure you can keep up?”

“Certain.”

Leaves scattered as she gave a great flap of her wings. His vision blurred and then tightened as he watched her fade into the distance. His muscles tingled and ached as energy coursed through them. She knew her way through this forest well; her path was efficient, her legs quick. Even still he bore down on her.

Sharp pain coursed through his mind as she drew to an open field, and cut through it. Quickly, he scanned the edge of the clearing for enemies, but it was clean. He burst through it after her, sending waves through the pale grass, dying now in the fall.

She slowed as she reached the hill on the other side. He followed her, walking through the trees, noting she was out of breath, and that his own lungs ached.

Barely hidden by the trees, a small house sat on the crest of the hill.

“What is this place?”

“Oma's house.”

He gritted his teeth, but said nothing. The house was something from a child's storybook – straw roof, brick chimney, and a beautiful white coat of paint on the exterior. In days past, he would have chuckled at the sight, but the world held no more laughter for him.

She threw the door open and entered the house, with a hint of a skip.

“Oma!”

“You're home early, Ana,” a creaky voice called back from a room over. The wrinkled harpy it belonged to shuffled into the room, giving pause as she found the visitor. “Well, come in and shut the door.”

He nodded and closed the door behind him. He took a few steps into the room, but still did not feel comfortable here.

“What's your name, boy?”

“Sam.”

“You look weary – where are you from?”

“Calantha, frau.”

“Oh? Quite a ways.” She sat down in a rocking chair. “Tell me – how is the great city?”

“Dead.”

She stopped rocking.

“What happened to Calantha?”

“The Kael.”

“Have none survived?”

“All but I, as far as my knowledge stretches. They fell upon us at dawnbreak. We tried to resist, but the surprise held their advantage. Surely all were slain.”

“Yet, you live.”

“I fled as it began. There could be no risk of me falling to them there. Just as surely, they cannot risk my escape. Doubtlessly, they hunt me, still.”

“They will follow you here?”

“Certainly.” He shook his head. “I've spent too much time here already. I must leave.”

“Take Ana with you.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Oma –“

“Ana, you can trust this man. His heart is pure, and he can protect you.” She looked to Sam. “The Kael will not spare us as we sit on your path of escape. It's too late for me, but, please, save Ana.”

He nodded.

“We must leave now.”

Ana slowly shuffled over to her grandmother, crying lightly.

“Oma...”

Sam snapped to attention. A shout reached the edge of his hearing.

“Stay here,” he ordered, slamming the door shut behind him.

Through the trees, Sam could see movement coming from the path they took. He couldn't tell their numbers, but they were too close to run now. He jogged down the hill, preparing to meet them in the clearing.

As he reached the grass, so did their leader. Large with skin the color of dirt, he stood, his horns reaching up from a receded white hairline. He grinned, showing his sharp teeth just under his upturned nose.

“The maus comes crawling from his hole,” he taunted. His men curled out on either side of him. “Tired of running, maus?”

“I know what you seek, schwein. I could not risk it falling into your hands.”

“You don't even know what it does! Come – surrender it to us, and I will be sure we kill you quickly.”

Sam crouched, taking an offensive stance, hands curled like claws.

“This day, you die!”

The leader laughed. “What hope do you have against us? We are soldiers! You! You are just a mage!”

“I am no Mage.”

Sam snapped his arms up, and immediately the clearing was enclosed in flame.

“You expect to scare me with your tricks? Kan! Osa! Kill him!”

The two Kael on the end of the curve readied their spears and marched through the grass. Sam raised an arm towards each. The very air about his hands began to warp, his eyes shone, his body tingled.

As if by some inaudible cue, the two Kael charged him, spears forward. Sam did not falter. Their leader's smug grin began to wear in the face of Sam's apathy.

Then, they reached the point. In the split second before it happened, even they could feel that something was wrong, and began to stop. They could do nothing to stop it.

Thunder shook the ground and echoed through the forest as lightning arced from Sam's hands to his assailants. Their corpses flipped backwards before slamming to the ground, muscles locked in their last position.

Sam's glare met their leader's wide eyes.

“Get him!” he barked, his voice beginning to break.

The remaining soldiers looked at him. Then looked at the wall of fire surrounding them. Reluctantly, they lowered their spears.

“What are you waiting for? I gave you an order!”

Sam swung his arm back and bolted towards them. Immediately, two of the soldiers dropped their weapons and made to escape through the fire. Those who remained found resolve in that moment to challenge this unarmored foe. In unison, they lunged towards him.

The foremost of the Kael struck out in unison. Spearheads clacked together – none finding their mark. Sam landed amongst them, and drove his hand into the ground.

The bodies scattered out from him, lightning coursing over them, crawling down their spears. Sam stood from the scorched grass. Only one still stood.

“You see now, the maus has his fangs. Will you run, now, schwein?”

“This isn't over,” he growled.

“It is.”

The leader darted off, seemingly frightened that the great wizard would change his mind. Sam turned back to the hill. His heart dropped. Flames rose from its peak. His mind fogged as his body began to move. Before he could grasp what could have happened, he stood before the burning hut. Its door lay inside, broken down by whoever had come last.

He stepped inside and looked around. Ana's grandmother lie on the floor. He crouched beside her.

“Save Ana,” she gasped. “They took her south. South... and to the east... is Moriko. Take her there.”

He rose and left. Turning south, he ran. He heard his heart beat through his ears, could smell blood in his nose, iron in his mouth, red in his eyes. But he felt none of this. None but the anger welling up within him. His path was guided by instinct alone.

“I heard these harpies are filthy sort!” the Kael remarked.

“She look like the filthy sort?” his partner retorted.

“Nah, she look like the tasty sort.”

The pair shook with hearty chortles.

The first slammed, face-first, into the leaves. Sam slashed his throat. He turned to the other. Struck out with his free hand. Its back crunched as it broke across a trunk.

Ana fell to her knees, freeing Sam of his rage. He sheathed his dagger and knelt to begin freeing her binds. She squirmed and cried underneath the sack that hid her head.

“Ana! It's me! Sam!” He tore the sack from her head, and pulled the gag from her mouth.

“OMA!” she shrieked, falling into Sam's shoulder.

He began to untie her hands. “Ana, we need to go!”

“Oma!” she sobbed, still.

He wrapped her hands around his neck and hefted her onto his back. They would have to be clear of this area by nightfall.