The Eternal City, Part 3

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Hero had insisted they wait for their pursuer, instead of continuing their flight. Kira had been against it. She didn’t understand how he could know what was chasing them, or even if he did. He wouldn’t tell her anything, just that they would wait.

Silently, Kira faced the southwest, where the trees were relatively thin. They were near the top of a hill, and they could see a great distance. Forest spread out all around them, but Kira could make out the barest light brown of the plains in the far distance. Down the hill, the trees lay thickly, keeping the forest floor cool and dark. She longed to be back under the canopy, striding along beside Hero, away from whatever was chasing them.

Hero stood a few feet to her right, also looking toward the forest in the southwest. Suddenly, she saw him tense from the corner of her eye. She looked to where his eyes were planted. A deeper shadow was emerging from the forest, accompanied by a sound of crashing. Under the noise of cracking branches, she heard the low growl of something coming for them.

Before the monster had emerged from the canopy, Hero was bolting down the hill toward it. The monster was taller than Hero, covered in thick, black fur. Its arms and legs were overlong, for its torso, and all four limbs ended in long, black talons. Its head was large and held a mouth full of flashing white teeth.

 When it saw Hero coming at it, the monster stopped and spread its arms, catching him in a four-limbed hug. The two tumbled back out of sight, under the trees.

Without warning, three more giant forms came over the hill, behind Kira. They flashed with impossible speed past her, but she immediately recognized them. Firbolgs! The first she had ever seen, aside from Hero. In seconds they were into the trees. The Troll could be heard snarling and snapping at its foes, roaring challenges. The Firbolgs, as far as Kira could discern, fought silently. In a few moments, the Troll fell mute.

It was some time before any Firbolg emerged from the trees. When they did, Kira let out a desperate cry. Two of the Firbolgs who had passed her on the hill were carrying Hero. He was bleeding badly from several wounds. They brought him to the top of the hill, and lay him down. One of them remained with him, while the other returned to where Kira stood silently, stunned.

The Firbolg regarded Kira for a moment, head tilted slightly to one side, and strode past her, back into the trees. Kira climbed the hill and came to kneel next to Hero.

He was conscious, but barely.The other Firbolg worked silently to staunch wounds. For the first time in months, Hero spoke to her in her own language.

“I am sorry,” he said, haltingly, unused to any vocal language. “My wounds will heal. But, not for a long time. I must go in to care.”

“I go where you go,” Kira sobbed.

“No,” he said.

She didn’t understand. What could he mean? She had always been with him, almost as long as she could remember. He was her only family, and her only friend. She couldn’t even remember her parents’ faces. She couldn’t imagine being without him.

“I have to,” she said, almost hysterical now. “Please!”

“The Troll was not our tracker,” Hero said, his voice a deep rumble of a whisper. “She still approaches. She comes for you. She is a sword-maiden, and she is the key to your future. Go with her.”

“But, I don’t want to!” Kira wailed.

“You must stop this,” Hero said. “When I heal, I will find you, or you will find me. We will see each other again.” At this, Hero’s eyes closed and he passed from consciousness. The other Firbolg lifted him up, and began to run, north.

Kira, with no hope of keeping up, could only stand and watch them disappear into the forest.