Forbidden Bond: A Velthorn Tale

Mikhail spurred Bakule ever faster, the wind whipping through his and Anora’s hair. The vibrant green of the plains flew past in a blur as Bakule thundered gracefully over the rolling hills. Mikhail laughed with a maniacal glee as he glanced down and could see the wide eyes look that Anora had on her face. But soon guilt began to convince him to slow down and to take it easy. This was her first ride after all. “Perhaps I should have taken it slow.” Mihail thought to himself.

Pulling back on the reins he began to slow Bakule to more of a trot. No need to tire out the elk now. The large animal seemed to be annoyed by the slow pace, seemingly wanting to run. Mikhail had no doubt that if he had continued to let him gallop they could reach Sablewood in at least three days or less. But again there was no hurry. He had seven long years to fill after all.

Anora began to loosen her tight hold she had on the Elk’s neck and looked around. Seeing the ground now not passing so fast below her she sat up a bit straighter, looking at Mikhail with an angry scowl on her face. At the moment his stupid grin only exacerbated her anger and soon she made to get off of the blasted animal’s back. Determined not to get on ever again. Mikhail noticed and quickly brought Bakule to a halt as Anora fumbled around. She seemed stuck until pulling too hard on one side, sliding from the saddle and falling to the ground hard. Mikhail gasped. “Anora!” he said as he dismounted Bakule. rushing to her side to help her up.

“Anora, are you ok?” he asked her as he placed his hand gently on her back as she rose up on her hands. The look that she gave him next sent shivers down his spine, making him jerk back a bit. Her eyes were furrowed in an angry scowl, her mouth set tight with a frown. He could tell that she wasn’t happy. Mikhail grabbed her under her arm and offered to pull her up but Anora shrugged off the offer and rose to her feet on own. Mikhail frowned and stood up. The moment reminded him of a time with his sister where they had been playing sword fight with some old pine sticks. Mikhail had gotten a little over competitive and had whacked her on the head. She of course had cried and been mad with him for the rest of the day. She had only spoken to him after he had apologized later that day.

Mikhail looked down in shame as Anora brushed the dirt and dust from her dress. “Anora.” he said. She stopped mid swipe and looked at him, annoyance on her face, her look saying. “What!?”

A moment of awkward silence passed between them before Mkihail said. “I’m sorry for making Bakule run. I shouldn’t have done that. It was foolish of me.” He lifted his head, making eye contact with her. Her orange eyes still had a tinge of anger in them but he could see them starting to soften for just a moment. Her eyes twitched back and forth as she looked into both of his. Then she just simply nodded once and started to walk. Mikhail watched as she continued down the road, shaking his head a bit. “She is a strange one.” he thought to himself.

Mikhail had followed after her, leading Bakule by the reigns. He had fell in beside her and had begrudgingly kept his pace slow enough for her to keep up, only getting ahead of her a few times before stopping to let her catch up. The entire time they had walked he had pleaded with her to get back on Bakule so they didn’t have to walk but the goblin was stubborn and would not oblige. Choosing to shoot him annoyed and incredulous glances and shaking her head every time he had suggested it. Mikhail had to admit that it frustrated him but after what felt like the hundredth time he had given up and resigned himself to walking.

Soon the first day of traveling the plains had come to an end and the sun had begun to set in the west. Mikhail had seen a stand of trees ahead that he was sure would be a great place to camp for the night. They headed for it, reaching the treeline as the last sliver of the sun dipped behind the horizon. Not bothering to tie Bakule up Mikhail immediately began to gather sticks and small logs for firewood and to his surprise Anora had joined him. Within minutes they had a good pile of firewood for the night. Mikhail started a fire and soon was cooking something from his pack for the night's meal. Anora had found a nice spot near the fire and sat down, watching the flames dance about.

They ate quietly, Mikhail figuring that Anora was still a bit sore with him from earlier that day. He smiled at the memory of the surprised look she had when he had made Bakule gallop. After finishing their meal he had cleaned up, surprised when Anora pitched in silently, helping to put away the pots and such into the leather pouch that hung from Bakule’s back. He looked down at her, the firelight seemingly causing her red curls to look as if they had caught fire themselves and he couldn’t help but marvel at her beauty. “Why do I keep thinking that?” he asked himself. “She's a goblin. I’m not supposed to be attracted to her.”

He remembered the last three days with her, smiling to himself a bit. He had been surprised two mornings ago when he had woken up to her resting against his chest, sharing his blanket with her. Then last night he figured that it would happen again so he had allowed her to sleep that way again. He assumed that she had done it because of hearing some large predator in the night or because she had been cold. “Must be hard being a small female goblin,” he thought. “Although it is nice to have her sleep with me.” It reminded him a bit of his sister and how she used to come into his room at night making claims about monsters outside her window and such. If it made her feel safer then he would allow it, as he had always felt the need to help others feel safe.

Mikhail cleared the thoughts from his head and refocused himself on the task at hand and removed the heavy pouch and saddle from Bakule. The Elk shivered and shook with the removal of the weight but continued to chew on the grass in front of him. Anora had long since walked back to the fire and now sat in the spot she had chosen before, watching the flames dance. Mikhail joined her not long afterwards, drinking water from a wineskin before handing it to her. She eyed it then grabbed and drank. Only stopping when Mikhail spoke. “You know I meant what I said earlier.” He told her, grabbing the stick and poking the fire. Anora looked at him, her eyes meeting his, as he turned his attention from the fire. “I uh, I’ve never been very good around girls.” Mikhail said, smiling nervously. “I always tend over do something that drives them away. Ya, know. Try to impress them to hard.”

The fire cracked, a log falling caused sparks to fly into the air. He studied Anora’s orange eyes as they reflected the flames. She handed the wineskin back to him gently and turned her attention back to the fire. Mikhail sighed and stood up , throwing the stick down. He didn’t know why he cared what a goblin thought about him. He just did. He started to walk away when he heard Anora make a sound. Mikhail stopped and turned around only to be greeted with the small woman slamming into him and wrapping her arms around his waist. Surprised, he looked down at her as she looked up. He could see the acceptance of his apology in her face. He hugged her back, having to stoop a bit.

Soon the two of them lay against Bakule’s stomach as it heaved up and down, the elk resting from the day. Together they looked up at the stars in the sky. The stars in Aldenhor could simply not compare with the ones that Mikhail saw now. As they leaned against Bakule he pointed out stars to Anora who eagerly listened. “To the north is the guiding star. Or as we call it, the star of Aran.” he told her as he pointed. “Beside it is the star of Shay. Aran’s wife and lover.” He moved his finger over a bit. Anoras gaze followed. “Then over there.” He said, pointing to the west a bit. “Is the constellation of PenderGhast. Watcher of Aldenhor. He was a great warrior from my village that died in a battle hundreds of years ago.” Mikhail explained.

He continued on for sometime, pointing out other minor stars and constellations. But soon he joined Anora in slumber, the crackling of the fire and chirping of the crickets soothing him into a deep slumber.

Mikhail awoke suddenly. Wide awake and aware that something was off. The air didn’t feel right. Where it was once clear and crisp it now felt murky and oppressive and his instincts seemed to be urging him to get up. Even Bakule was awake, his antlered head raised high, ears twitching. Mikhail looked down at Anora who was still asleep, despite what Bakule and Mikhail felt. He looked to the elk as he felt the large animal turn it’s head to him, snorting. “Yeah buddy, I feel it too.”

Mikhail gently pulled his arm from under Anora, gently laying her against the elk. He didn’t want to wake her. Looking at Bakule he said, “You stay. Watch her. Keep her safe.” Bakule dipped his head in acknowledgement as if it understood what it had been commanded to do. Mikhail stepped over to the pack and quietly grabbed his spear, sliding it from its holster. The metal, cold to the touch and reflecting the moonlight. Mikhail could now hear voices, low and chanting coming from deeper into the stand of trees that they had taken refuge near. He then grabbed, checked, and slid his boots on, proceeding silently into the dark that engulfed the trees. Silently he crept through the brush, doing his best to not make a sound like his father had taught him when they had gone hunting deer. “You must step slowly and lightly, my son. For the deer have good ears and the forest echoes our presence.” He could hear his father say in his mind.

Soon the darkness began to recede as the chanting began to grow louder. He knew that he was getting closer to the source of the unease that he had felt. The air had seemed to grow more oppressive the close he got, now taking on a more menacing feeling. His instincts were no longer screaming at him, they were full on throttling him to run, to get away, but he ignored them, curiosity driving him forward now. Reaching a bush beside a tree he stopped. There just in front of him no more than twenty yards stood some people in a clearing. There were at least ten of them standing around a large fire, a goat bleating as an eleventh person emerged from the darkness of the woods opposite of him. All of the people were dressed in long red robes. Their heads, covered in hoods. Ten of them made a circle around the fire, chanting something that Mikhail could not make out but now knew was evil.

He watched as the eleventh man lead the goat to the center of the circle, stopping just before the fire. “Lord Sanctus!” The man spoke loudly, his hands spread open toward the sky. “We offer this sacrifice to you! Our great and terrible dark lord!”

“Sanctus? I’ve never heard of him.” Mikhail thought to himself as he watched the man reach into his robes and bring out a large, curved dagger. He raised it high in one hand, pulling the terrified goats head back in the other. Then he plunged the dagger into the goats neck and sliced it wide open, bright red blood spilling forth onto the ground as the goat tried to bleat, only managing to gurgle on its own blood. The chanting rose to a crescendo, the fire seemed to triple in size and a face appeared in the flames. Mikhail’s heart raced as he watched the flaming face lurch forward and engulf the goat. Soon the chanting stopped and all was quiet except for the flaming head, now taking the shape of the goat. It spoke.

“You have served me well.” It said to the man that had killed the goat. Its voice, an unnatural thing. Like that of metal being dragged against bone. Mikhail shook with fear as the flaming head continued but he did not stick around to find out what was said. He had seen enough, felt enough of that evil creature's presence that he knew he wanted no more of it. As quickly and quietly as he could manage he made his way back to the campsite. His nerves on edge the entire journey, no matter how short it was. Soon he emerged from the trees to see that Bakule and Anora were still there. Anora, still sleeping softly against the elk.

Mikhail stepped over to her and gently shook her awake. Her orange eyes reflected the moonlight as she opened them. “Anora, wake up. We have to go.” he said as she rubbed her eyes. She watched him look around, noticing his spear in his hand. She sat up quickly, scanning the area for a threat. “It’s ok.” he told her, noticing her panicked look. “It’s just not safe here anymore. We need to go.”

Mikhail then walked away and setting his spear down he grabbed the saddle. Bakule rose to his feet and stood still as Mikhail placed it on his back and strapped it tight. Adding the pack shortly afterwards. Anora did her best to help but Mikhail seemed to be moving faster than she could and soon stepped out of the way. Fifteen minutes passed and Mikhail mounted Bakule. Holding his spear in his right hand he reached out with his left hand to Anora. She knew what it meant and stepped back, shaking her head. Mikhail sighed, cursing himself for what he had done the day before. “Anora, trust me. I won’t make him run fast. We need to ride. We don’t have time to walk.” He told her, looking around nervously. He looked back down at her. Trepidation filled her as she stared back. The elk looked back and snorted. Anora looked at the elk as it dipped its head then back at Mikhail.

Mikhail smiled, but the serious look on his face never left. “Trust me.” he simply said as he reached further down. Anora glanced at his hand, then tentatively placed hers in his. Faster than she was prepared for she was pulled up onto Bakules' back. She marveled at Mikhail’s strength and yelped a bit. She felt two hands on her side as she was placed in the spot from before, just in front of Mikhail. He reached out and grabbed his spear with his right hand and with his left he steered the elk using the reigns. Clicking his tongue the elk started walking forward and out of the treeline. “Get us out of here Bakule.” he said as he clicked his tongue again. The elk surged forward a bit. Anora turned her head and looked up at Mikhail. Concern on her face. Even in the low light Mikhail knew what she was afraid of.

“Trust me.” he told her.