Its an early Sunday morning, early enough to still see the constellations and be considered night. Normally during the autumn season, the winds are light, the temperatures ideal, and you can wear anything in complete comfort, clothes for warm or cold weather. But in the North, freezing winds blow down from the snow-capped Kataart and neighboring Barter Mountains and sweep over the countryside, leaving any lone travelers shivering and desperate for any form of shelter available.
The winds must be at 30 mph around this time of day with a minus 25 degree Fahrenheit shield, but the group in question doesn't know this. All they know is that the cold is so constant and absolute that it reaches past their heavy cloaks and shirts, through their skin and the outer layers of calcium on their bones, making them tremble violently-even the most thick skinned member of the party. They're wet, hungry, vulnerable to the elements, and furious with their helplessness. Even a magically induced fire and sealed campsite only brings little comfort.
Before continuing in present time, lets revert and retrace.
The five travelers are in the middle of an enormous forest with an unusual beauty... Its like an earthen palace with trees for collumns and the canopy serving as its entwined roof, the flowers, dirt, and thick grass its carpeting, the moss its tapestries. Doing justice to the effect of this natural wonder with words alone is hardly a simple matter, though i'll try. This forest seems to have a living soul, an almost supernatural presence about it. The terrain is a rich, fertile soil forming many small hills and short cliffs bordering a narrow dirt path that winds its way through this alien wilderness. The two more vigilant travelers in the group had already taken note of the trees whose species could be identified upon first entering the forest: birches, elms, weeping willows (uncommonly large ones), cherry and apple blossom trees, and peach trees. These two travelers had also taken note that many of the trees around them are most likely of a kind that mortal eyes have never seen. Both of them being seasoned road warriors filled to the proverbial brim with knowledge of ancient lore on forests and such, they discerned, after strolling down the path for a few minutes, that this is an elven forest. The ground was thickly covered with dark green blades of grass and flowers such as elanor, tiger lilies, poppies, and white ghosts. Fire and Dragon Flies flitted across the surface of several crystal clear ponds that still hadn't frozen over, laced with water lilies and bordered by willows and cattails. Sun, moon, or starlight filtered in through the leaves at all times as the five continued their stroll. When the branches of the behemoth trees were rustled by the wind and the thick enchantment about them - which causes the air to have romantic hues and an intoxicating, breathable density to it, like a sweet humidity - shifted, the effect was very eerie. Their leader could feel clever eyes following their every move... "This is definitely an elven forest..."
The five had stumbled upon this picturesque road after a recent short, yet chaotic series of misadventures and had thought it would be nice to have a change of scenery, so they veered off of their western course and started heading north. A decision that they now regret.
The first few days of the vacation passed peacefully. There was plenty of fruit and wild game such as deer and rabbits to survive on. Fresh country air, lazy, carefree days, stark blackish-blue night skys, perfect for star gazing... The change of scenery was now like an impromptu vacation, and the travelers were glad to have changed their course, despite the strange feeling they got from the forest's aura. But then, on Saturday evening, came the storm. The North (the land above the Kataart Mountains), has a climate that is only pleasant during the spring and summer, and unfortunately for these midlanders, their leisurely stroll through the forest began at the end of summer, and after one week of travel they had gone far enough into the North to find themselves in a parallel version of hell (beautiful, cold, yet almost equally horrible to have to live through). The speed with which the gale of hail and hard-hitting rain reached them was unbelievable. One moment, pretty white stratus clouds highlighted by the setting sun and a slightly nippy wind. Less than fifteen minutes later, billowing, black cumulo-nimbus with a freaky reddish sky for a backdrop and a torrential downpour.
The winds started to kick up and flashes of light began to appear close by, too close for comfort. Resonating claps of thunder shook the ground and sent two of the women into panic attacks, screaming and hugging each other, eyes tightly shut, while the other three members of the party temporarily lost their hearing. The trees offered no protection and only acted as lightening rods. One of them was struck down in white-hot flames, splashing heavily into a nearby pond and missing the travelers by only twenty feet, so its only logical that at this point they chose to cast Ray Wing, carry the only one among them that couldn't do so, and fly as fast as they could until they were out of the forest or could find some suitable shelter. Flying over the forest wouldn't have worked out all too well, since there was still the risk of being struck down with over a million volts of electricity, and the forest is several hundred miles long and wide, so the group wasn't going to be able to make it out of there anytime soon by cutting a straight path through it. Only option left: search for shelter.
The thunder grew more distant as they flew, though the rain remained harsh. They landed in a small, open valley surrounded by the trees, perhaps the safest spot for quite a distance, though it wasn't very dry... moisture mixed with the current temperature could prove lethal. The shaman firmly ordered the others to stay put, broke away from the group and scanned the surrounding area, opting to use his rarely utilized, inhuman speed to make quick work of the job. The swordsman remained standing with the black sorceress, while the two mages sat on the ground, shivering and still clinging to each other.
About twenty minutes passed, the sky was starting to turn black, rain was still pouring down just as hard as ever, the hail was getting larger, and the sorceress was growing impatient (actually, she had been getting impatient after only two minutes of waiting, but who's counting?). Crash, flash, boom, shrieks from the mages, tremble... The lightening was starting to get close again... Where was he? He should have found something by now... She sighed and decided to drop the standoffish, self-sufficient bit and just latch onto a warm body to survive. Specifically, the swordsman's, "Don't get any ideas, I'm just cold..."
"... Ideas?"
"... Just keep your mouth shut and me warm."
He nodded and pulled her arms from around him, oblivious to her confused blinking, and removed her epaulets, bundled her up in her own cloak, hugged her (picking her up in the process), and sat on the ground next to the other two, pulling her down with him. "Better?"
"Actually... yeah, much better. Thanks." She was too tired to smack him for handling her like that... Not only that, but he was big and gave off a lot of body heat, and he wouldn't be of much use to her unconscious, now would he?
The swordsman did his best not to show that he was slowly freezing to death, at least, he felt like he was... He just clenched his jaws and tried to clear his mind. The two women sitting next to them scooted closer and the four formed a trembling huddle. About a minute later, the shaman finally returned, coming to a screeching halt in front of his companions and splashing up mud and water from the grass. The sorceress looked up at him from her little cocoon of security in the swordsman's lap expectantly, "Anything?"
"A cave," he waved his dripping wet arm in the general direction he had come from, no signs of fatigue after running so far so quickly and back again... "approximately seven miles from here. If the three of you fly at full speed we could make it there within half an hour or so. Its remote, nestled in the side of one of the larger cliffs, with only a few small trees near it. Its dry and there's plenty of space inside to set up camp." Nobody caught his small smile at the sight of the position the sorceress was in...
She nodded, untangled herself from her cloak, got up, and snapped her epaulets back on. The two mages rose and wrapped their cloaks around themselves, expressions of relief spreading across their faces. The swordsman just sat there, rubbing his arms and watching the little white vapors of breath escape his mouth and then be pierced by the rain drops.
"Gourry-sama, we need to be going now... can you get up? Gourry..?" Silphiel crouched on one knee, gently moving his bangs from his face to examine his expression. She gave a small gasp of shock, a puff of white air leaving her own lips.
Amelia stepped closer and peered at him, "Uh... Miss Lina, something is really wrong with Gourry-san..."
Lina cocked an eyebrow, kneeled next to Silphiel and moved her sidekick's hair back. She normally doesn't show much emotion beyond mock cheerfulness, greed, or anger, yet worry slowly started to crease her forehead, then mingled with something like determination, "Gourry! Snap out of it!" She none-too-gently shook him by his shoulder guards, but his eyes remained glazed over and vacant; he didn't give any sort of response, just breathed in, breathed out, didn't even blink. His already pale skin was now sickly and pasty. She then noticed the blue undertone on his lips... He just sat there, teeth chattering, hair dripping, staring off into space, looking directly at her but not.
Lina stood, "... Ray Wing!" the others hastily followed suit and Zelgadis took lead of their formation. The women slowly levitated Gourry and Lina placed him into Zelgadis' air bubble, "Step on it! You fly ahead, get him into that cave, and dry him off. We'll follow your trail and meet up with you."
He nodded and sped away through the trees. Silphiel immediately followed. Being a cleric - and filled with concern for Gourry, concentrating solely on him - made it quite easy for her to keep track of Zel's location. Lina and Amelia did as best they could to keep up with their eager companion. Lina took her eyes off of where she was going for a split second and barely avoided getting knocked down by a branch. She performed an arial roll and nearly dropped the treasure fastened to her waist beneath her cape that Zelgadis had recently recovered and had entrusted to her for safekeeping... She tugged her cape to the side and glanced behind her, saw the clasp on her belt was broken, and clutched the satin bag containing the item to her chest. She focused on her flight and pushed herself to the limit of acceleration, soon following Silphiel by no less two feet.
Thirty minutes later, just as Zelgadis had estimated, Silphiel blew into the cave with all the speed and force of a tornado, dead leaves and snow being pulled in along with her in the wake of her flight spell, Lina directly behind her, who was sucking in a panting Amelia with the force of her own wind. Their eyes fell directly on the ball of black armor and blonde hair on the cold stone floor, with Zelgadis sitting next to him and bending slightly over his form, extending his palms over Gourry's body and softly chanting a tightly-controlled combination spell of Flare Arrow and Windy Shield to create a pocket of warm air around his patient. The women rushed to his side and created a semi-circle around the swordsman.
Silphiel began uttering prayers under her breath as Amelia assisted Zel by healing some of the chapped areas on Gourry's face and arms. The treatment began to take effect; Gourry's muscles had grown less tense and he drifted to sleep as the color returned to his cheeks and lips. Lina placed her hands inside the heat pocket and removed his armory, being careful so as not to wake him. She looked up from her task and studied the faces of her companions, her gaze falling last on Gourry's.
Her strength isn't in healing, so she couldn't exactly help Amelia and Silphiel, and Zelgadis was keeping up his spell quite easily on his own energy and concentration. She felt completely useless, just sitting on the sidelines as one of her closest friends recovered from a near-fatal encounter with mother nature.
Heh... "closest friend"... She never really thought of Gourry as such, but he was.
this chapter is still in mid-development
Chapter 2 | Author