Hunting the Dawn

The soil began to crunch and shift under her boots as she stepped forward. The demarcation between the living fields of green grass behind her and the burnt and sundered soil in front of her was quite abrupt and obvious. Clearly some foul magic had lain waste to the ground ahead; it's influence only barely kept in check at the cost of many lives.

Her horned head tilted slightly as she gazed across the devastation ahead, her pale blue eyes seeming to glitter almost silver in the light of the sun. Behind her, several of the Federation soldiers that had accompanied her shifted uncomfortably. She paid them little heed, standing still as a statue as if trying to hear or divine what lay ahead, even though they all knew.

"This is a waste of time," one of the men muttered. The man, a human soldier in gleaming silver armor, leaned down and picked up a rock. He hefted it in one hand, as if checking the weight before continuing to mutter, "No one could have survived in there."

Biara Sunfire frowned slightly, not turning to face the man. She shook her head, her flaming red hair bouncing slightly around her pointed ears and the horns that protruded from its fiery mass. "There WERE survivors, otherwise we would not have any idea what happened to them in the first place, so clearly you are wrong."

The man offered a noncommittal grunt and then stepped forward, hurling the rock as far as he could into the devastated terrain ahead. It arced across the barren, blackened ground and some distance away in mid-flight it was struck by what appeared to be a hurled blade. Both the rock and blade clattered amongst the burned stones in the fields ahead. The small group of soldiers began to mutter to themselves, holding weapons tightly as the sounds of scuffling could be heard ahead.

For her part, Biara continued to stand in place, staring intently ahead. The Island of Dawn had many secrets on it that needed to be unraveled, but the most important secret of all was what had happened to the First Expedition. Wiped out nearly to a man, only a scant few survivors had returned to tell tales of the horrors the island held. The rest had died, or gone missing.

Including Biara's father.

The Castanic shook her head again to clear her thoughts, focusing on her objective. She and her sister Kyliska had come with the second wave of adventurers to the Island of Dawn, and she meant to find answers. Already the Island had shown itself to be of interest, and she could certainly see what had lured her father there. The place was filled with old ruins, mystical artifacts, potential treasure, and mystery. It made her own blood stir just to think of exploring the entire thing, and her father likely had felt the same drive.

It was the same adventure-lust that had lead their mother to her own fate after all, as it would likely claim Biara and her sister in their own time. The burning need to be doing something, to feel the thrills of life, drove them onward. Even so, neither sister would forget their father, nor stop looking for him even if there were few clues left as to where he might be. Had he died with the First Expedition's defeat, or did he escape and wander elsewhere in the world now?

Neither sister knew, but a Castanic did not forget their own blood. Not ever. They would continue to search for him until they found him or learned that he had finally been claimed by his last adventure.

Even as the thoughts briefly crossed Biara's mind, the scuffling noises grew louder. Shapes began to emerge from the twisted landscape ahead, their visages corrupt and loathsome. Upon seeing their half-melted faces and the blades jutting from their limbs as well as the circular blades at their mid-sections, all of the Federation soldiers grumbled; everyone knew what a demon looked like after all.

"There is no way anyone is alive over there," one of them muttered. "Let's just go back to camp and report what we've seen. I want nothing to do with those things. We'll end up melted into the charred ground if we go that way."

While others in the small scouting group nodded and murmured their agreement, Biara ignored the comment, one stiletto heeled boot stepping forward onto the blackened terrain ahead. The murmuring behind her grew louder as the men saw her advancing, but she ignored them, her eyes on one of the demons in the center of the group.

A demon with trophies on it. A demon with a necklace fashioned of exquisite gold hanging from one of its bloody, putrid blades.

Her pulse began to race, and a slight smile tugged at the corner of her painted lips as the men called out warnings behind her. She paid them little heed as she leaned her head forward a bit, beginning to move faster now. The battle-lust was upon her, and no matter how loudly they protested they wouldn't dissuade her now.  The thrill of it was like a siren song in her mind. Her boots dug into the soil as she began to pick up speed, the demons turning to face her as they watched her approach.

Running now, a smile truly did break out over her face as the first demon reared back and hurled a curved, circular blade through the air towards her. Almost as if it were child's play, she twisted her lithe, agile body out of the path of the weapon, feeling it pass her like an errant breeze. Two more blades followed the first, the first going low and something she could easily leap over while the other went high. She ducked her head down, the weapon narrowly missing the curved horns on her head as she rolled once and came back up to her feet. Her hands reached back and each grabbed a sword hilt as she drew her weapons.

The first of the demons had little chance as she darted forward. It's cumbersome attempts to impale her on its arm spikes were almost laughable as both of her blades darted in point first and impaled the creature. Biara twisted her body as a second of the creatures came forward, using her momentum to tumble past the first dead demon and evade the blow. Her blades came up in a dizzying whirlwind of steel that slashed the demon's limbs and then head repeatedly. The second foe fell to the ground without a sound, its gray flesh oozing black, corrupt fluids into the soil.

Two more demons charged her, one from either side as she regained her balance from the attack. One of the creatures hurled a blade and she was barely able to get her swords up in time to deflect it. The heavy weapon arced upwards, the flat part of it striking her side and the weight knocking her to the blackened ground. She lay in a daze for a mere fraction of a second as the demons lurched hungrily towards her. Her pulse pounded in her head, the sheer excitement of the moment, the knowledge of her imminent death sending a rush through her entire being.

Her legs whirled, sweeping the demons from what would be considered their 'legs' and causing them to crash to the ground as she jumped back up. Her swords whirled around her in a devastating circular arc that intersected the heads of each of the creatures, and two more corpses tumbled to the ground.

The last demon growled, the sound coming from somewhere within the half-face, half-blades that made up its head. It lunged at her, blades extended on its arms. Instead of deflecting the blow, Biara ran towards the attack, leaping at the last moment. Her castanic heritage gave her the strength to do a forward flip, the blades of the creature narrowly missing the bottoms of her boots as she gracefully sailed over the demon, her blades trailing and mane of red hair flowing around her. She landed lightly behind it, her blades slashing out and impaling the creature. It gurgled and then fell to the ground.

Biara rose from a half-crouch and flicked the corrupt blood from her blades before sheathing them on her back. She looked down at the creature's corpse, the glitter of gold drawing her eye amongst the black corruption there. She reached down, drawing the jewelry from the creature, and studying it in her open palm.

It was an intricately crafted golden chain designed to look like interweaving thorny branches. The thorns came together at a central point along the chain, surrounding a rose made of a deep red gemstone. It was not something that the ordinary adventurer would have, and not even something that many of the other races would have. The craftsmanship of the piece was clearly Castanic, but what was more, Biara was quite familiar with the piece.

It had been their mother's.

Her father had carried it with him always, and now here it was, stuck on the blade of a demon. What did it mean? Was he dead then, or had he simply lost it in battle? Did he ever escape from the Island of Dawn? The jewelry created more questions than answers.

"Hey! Hey you crazy Castanic! Do you want to fight an entire legion of demons? Because if you don't, maybe you could get your ass back over here before more of them show up!" One of the men shouted.

Biara's pointed ears twitched once and her fingers clasped the pendant tight before slipping it into a pouch on her belt. She took a deep breath, relishing in the pounding of her heart and the thrill of recent combat for a moment before nodding her head and trotting back towards the other Federation members.

Her head turned one last time as the group began to depart, looking back at the devastated terrain, her eyes thoughtful. They would find out what happened to him. A Castanic would never forget. And if something happened to him...

Well, a Castanic never forgot a foe either. At least until they were dead.