Soulstaff
Legacy: Generation
1
Blizzard War
Chapter Four
"Arkos...Arkos..," the voice called to him.
Lazily, Arkos slowly blinked his eyes open and yawned. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up in bed, glancing at his surroundings. He was back in the orphanage, in the boy's room. Standing over him was the orphanage caretaker, Michelle Whitestar. She smiled at him. "Were you napping again?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. "You are so active all day long, it's no wonder you fall asleep in the middle of the day."
Young Arkos, only ten years old, slipped out of bed and pulled his shoes back on. "I didn't mean to," he mumbled, still only half-awake.
"Well, I need your help. Some new orphans arrive today, and I need to go prepare for them. Do you think you can help me out in the kitchen?" she requested. "I wanted to have something for them to eat when they get here."
"All right," Arkos said with another yawn. He stretched a few moments, and then followed the woman to the kitchen. After about an hour of helping her chop up beets--although Arkos' pieces were rather uneven--he was freed from his kitchen duty and meandered over to the common area. The new orphans had arrived, and they were being greeted by the others. Arkos had been a resident of the orphanage for as long as he could remember, and so was often seen as the 'elder child' of the group. But he generally did not have an interest in newcomers; he tended to keep to himself.
Arkos leaned up against the back wall and observed. He casually examined the new orphans, who were all disheveled and in various states of impoverishment. Most of them wore ragged, filthy brown clothes that long ago lost any color they once had to them. Many did not have shoes or even shirts. But a flash of pink caught Arkos' attention from the crowd. Strangely compelled, he started searching for it, as it had quickly vanished a moment later. He had almost decided to give up when he saw it again. A young girl had made her way to the ascending staircase and had squatted down beside it, as if attempting to hide in the shadows.
She wasn't much younger than Arkos, only around eight years old or so. The girl was terribly skinny, clearly suffering from malnourishment. Dirt smudged her face and skin, and the dress she wore more closely resembled a burlap sack more than any kind of real clothing. But a pink ribbon, somehow still clean, was tied up in her brown hair. When Arkos approached, her head quickly shot up and she stared at him with big, hazel eyes. It reminded Arkos of a squirrel or mouse who had suddenly sensed a cat sneaking up on it.
"Hello," Arkos greeted her, holding his hand out to her. The girl visibly flinched, as if expecting him to attack her. Arkos quickly retracted his hand and frowned. "I'm Arkos," he told her. She stared up at him blankly, but did not answer. Feeling awkward, Arkos continued to speak anyway. "Just Arkos. I don't have a last name, 'cause I'm an orphan, too. I guess I could make one up, but I never really thought about it." He scratched the back of his neck, feeling a little silly at babbling on like that. But something about her silence made him want to fill it in any manner he could.
"That one don't talk," said another orphan, a little boy named Kel. Arkos turned around to face him, not having heard his approach. "'S true," he said.
"Why not?" Arkos asked.
Kel shrugged. "She just don't. Not even Miss Whitestar could get 'er to talk. Must be dumb or something." He then walked off, smelling the food in the kitchen.
Arkos frowned again, and walked up to her. He squatted down right next to her, so they were at eye level. She never took her eyes off of him, wide with fear. Arkos peered at her intently, as if trying to see right into her mind. "Nah..," he said. "I don't think you're dumb. You can talk, I bet. You just don't want to. Or maybe you're scared to."
The girl slid down into a sitting position and hugged at her legs. For the first time since he had approached her, she took her eyes off of him and instead looked forward, out into space.
"You don't have to be scared, though. It's nice here. Better than the streets. Michelle takes care of us. And...well, if you need anything, you can just find me. I'll help you out. Sure you don't wanna tell me your name?"
The girl turned her eyes back toward him. They seemed expressionless.
Arkos shrugged. "Okay. Maybe some other time then." He stood up, straightened his shirt, and began to walk away.
"Trini..," she whispered.
Arkos paused in mid-step. It had been so soft, he had wondered briefly if he had just imagined it. He turned back to her. "Huh?"
"Tr...Trini. My name is Trini," she said.
"Trini. That's a nice name," he said with a smile.
Slowly, the girl smiled back.
* * * * *
Arkos groaned. He opened his eyes for what seemed like the second time. Had he just been dreaming...or was he now dreaming again? This time he found himself lying on some blankets on the floor of the sprite sanctuary, in one of the smaller rooms. His armor, sword, and shirt had been removed and set nearby. He sat up, his body feeling stiff and and sore. Now he remembered...the hippogriff. He had fallen and crashed. Somehow, he didn't seem surprised to still be alive after that.
"Not so fast," Daeval said. "You are still weak." The priest had noticed him waken and then approached, kneeling down by him. "You nearly died in that fall, but by the grace of Azedeth, we were able to save you."
Arkos lied back down with a moan. "You healed me?"
Daeval nodded. "I did what I could. But despite that, you have been unconscious for two days now. How do you feel?"
"Like I was dropped by a hippogriff at forty feet...wait, two days?!" He sat up again abruptly, ignoring his muscles' protests.
"I had to also heal some of the soldiers we rescued, but I focused most of my energies on you, since you were the most critical."
"Hoppin' Hobgoblins," Arkos muttered, scratching at his chin. He realized he had grown a bit of stubble recently. "So everyone else is okay then?"
"They are. Although they are becoming restless, I believe. One in particular."
"Thanks. For healing me and all," Arkos said. "And the bugbears?"
Daeval shook his head. "Think nothing of it. As for the bugbears, they have searched the forests thoroughly, but Kappa's magic hides the sanctuary."
Arkos managed to get up to his feet and slowly stand up. Daeval protested, but Arkos was adamant. "I'll be fine," he said.
The elf sighed in defeat. "Very well. But take it easy. You should not take such risks as you did."
"I guess I got a guardian angel or something," Arkos replied, as he attempted to work a kink out of his neck.
The elf paused and then his eyes turned to Arkos' left arm. "If you do not mind me asking...I was curious about the ribbon."
"Hmm?" Arkos glanced down to his left arm to see the pink ribbon tied around it. Without really thinking about it, his right hand moved up to touch it of its own accord. "It's...a friend's. She tied it there before I left for the war...to remind me to come back alive," he explained.
Daeval paused a moment in thought. Then he reached into one of the pockets of his robes and pulled out what appeared to be a barrette carved from wood. The design and workmanship were exquisite. "My wife's," he said simply.
Arkos merely nodded in understanding and grabbed his shirt. After putting it back on, he started re-equipping his gear.
* * * * *
When Arkos and Daeval returned to the common room, they found Kappa and one of the soldiers arguing with each other. The other soldiers were staying out of it, but clearly watching the exchange with interest.
"I don't care what you say! Our orders are clear, as is the chain of command!" shouted the soldier. His face was flushed with anger.
"Your rules and regulations are meaningless here! What you're talking about is suicide!"
"What's going on?" Arkos interrupted.
"Oh, it's you. The one who saved us." The soldier approached Arkos, calming down considerably. "I am Corporal Ralather Lockgild of the Sky Citadel Infantry Squad." The man appeared to be around thirty or so with military-style brown hair, a neatly trimmed mustache, and grey eyes. He was about an inch taller than Arkos and had a nasty looking scar across his lip and a piece of his left ear was missing. He was wearing plate mail and had a bastard sword on his belt. An open-face helm with multiple small dents was tucked under his arm.
"Corporal?" Arkos quickly snapped a salute, realizing he was in the presence of an officer. "Private Arkos Soulstaff of the Starlight Infantry Squad, sir!"
Ralather returned the salute. "Good man. We owe you a debt of gratitude for your rescue, and I'll be sure to pass the word along to the King when we return."
"Thank you, sir...but I wasn't alone. Daeval and Kappa helped, too."
"Ah. The elf and the sprite." Ralather looked back down at Kappa with an expression of disdain.
"You're welcome," Kappa responded sarcastically with an over-elaborate bow.
The corporal ignored the sprite and instead turned back to Arkos. "I'm glad you're up and well again. Now we can make plans to return to Gontoria."
Kappa sighed in frustration. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. You'll never make it! There aren't enough supplies left here to get all of you there! Especially with all the bugbears in the area."
Ralather placed his hands behind his back. "Our orders are clear. In the event we are captured and escape, we are to report to the nearest base for reassignment."
"If we don't have enough supplies to make it back home, then staying here isn't really an option, either. We'll starve," Arkos pointed out. "Maybe we could get more supplies from somewhere else?"
"Surely you do not mean to return to the bugbear stronghold?" asked Daeval.
"No...even if we could make it back there alive, Kappa torched most of their supplies," Arkos replied.
"There may be another way," Ralather offered. "Before we were captured, I had heard of some intelligence of a village in this area. If we could raid it for supplies, we should be able to return home."
Daeval frowned. "I know of the village you speak of. Kappa and I were there recently. But is it right to take what is not ours from others?"
"They are the enemy. Of course it's right. They would do no different to us," Ralather said. "But we cannot all go. A small group would be better, so we can move more quickly. The rest should stay here and await our return. Private Soulstaff, I would like you to accompany me."
"Me?" Arkos asked, surprised.
"Arkos needs more time to recover," Daeval objected. "He is not ready yet."
"Nonsense," Ralather objected. "He looks fine to me. And I could use someone with his moxie."
"I'll go," Arkos said with a salute.
"Arkos, are you sure?" Daeval's normally friendly face was carved with concern.
"I know, but I'll be fine. We need those supplies if we're going to get these people to safety. And I must obey orders from a superior."
"Superior? Ha!" Kappa said, slapping his knee.
"Then I shall go, as well," Daeval offered before Ralather could make a come-back.
"What?!" Kappa cried, his mouth dropping open. "Daeval, this isn't our war. It's bad enough we assaulted a stronghold, but now you're going to help them attack a village? These are civilians we're talking about, not soldiers. We've done our part; more than enough, in fact."
The elf shrugged. "I feel I will be needed. Azedeth's will is not yet clear to me, but I know my part in this is not yet over."
"Wait, Daeval. Kappa's right. This isn't your fight. I appreciate all you've done for me. But I can't let you risk your life further." Arkos objected. "Besides, you aren't a soldier. You are not under any obligation."
"And what of your promise?" Daeval asked him, his green eyes moving to Arkos' left arm.
Although the ribbon was concealed under both his shirt and mail, Arkos' hand instinctively went to where the ribbon had been tied. "What about it?"
"You promised to return home alive. And I intend to make sure you follow through on this." He smiled. "After all, you are my friend."
Arkos bit at his lip, but he could think of nothing further to say. He lowered his head. "Thanks."
Kappa groaned. "The gods mock me," he complained. "Well, I made a promise, too. I swore to Nylirr that you wouldn't get yourself killed, either. So I guess I have to go, as well." He crossed his arms in annoyance. "Damned war. I knew it would bring me nothing but trouble to get involved."
Arkos got down to one knee to be more on the sprite's eye level. "Thank you, as well, friend."
Kappa snorted and waved his hand dismissively to the young soldier. "Yeah, yeah."
With a nod and a smile, Arkos stood back up and faced Ralather. "Looks like it's us four, sir."
Ralather stroked his chin in thought. "Very well. As long as the sprite can keep his mouth quiet while we are sneaking in."
A soft buzzing noise emitted from under Kappa's cloak as he glared daggers at the officer. It took Arkos a moment to realize that the transparent, dragonfly like wings tucked under the sprite's cloak were rapidly flapping in anger, sounding like a very large mosquito. Ralather did not seem to pay it any mind.
"Here is my plan..," Ralather began.
