It may have been just the soft brushing of the leaf, but her eyes shot open as it snaked its way around her neck, down into the ground. A brilliant canopy stood above her, the shadow of it forming kaleidoscopic patterns against the sky. Tara felt herself breath and her eyes crunch at the brilliant daylight.
Her body ached, probably because she slept on the cold hard ground, without any support. As she pushed herself off ground to sit up straight, the earth underneath her squished slightly, causing the mud to rub off in her hands. Her tights were ripped at the calves and she ran her fingers through the red slash across her skin.
A wave of disbelief washed into her as she tried to comprehend the events of the day before, forming pictures into it one by one. There had been a group of people, a mob of people, who had been chasing her and there had been a woman, her blue eyes as cold as ice, leading them, armed with shards of ice and flaming hands they produced in front of Tara. And there had been running and chasing, until she had been cornered and needed to be rescued by her mother.
Her mother… Her mother had sent her here, to be safe, she realized. But where on earth is here? Tara felt her heart tremble and she broke into tears, not knowing what she was doing or what she has to do.
She looked around her trying in her blurry vision to make out her environment. Against the backdrop of the various shades of green, the trunks of the trees stood tall and dark, allowing only patches of sunlight fall onto the ground. The ground was covered in soft green moss and the air was chilly, yet not so cold that she needed a jacket to cover herself. Her memory was still foggy, and even then, she knew that only bits of it made sense.
Tara remembered the brilliant golden light with which her mother opened a gaping wormhole and she remembered entering it. And that was where her memory ended.
She bent her knees, trying her best to get up. Her knees hurt, and she knew she was a mess, her hands were covered in dirt with a shadow of green and she had to dust off the moss sticking to her jacket as the blood rushed to her legs. Becoming cold was not something she needed to worry about. It was her and her mother's specialty, being able to keep themselves warm even against the frigid temperatures.
It was starvation and thirst she was worried about. The surrounding coldness helped with the thirst, but Tara was hungry. And so tired, so dead tired. Her hands slipped against the trees as she got up, causing her to stumble, but she held on with her shaking knees and trudged slowly.
The forest was unwittingly green, she felt, almost as if it were alive with the color. Had she had more energy she would have appreciated it. She shook her tears off and took long breaths. She must now focus just on finding help and civilization.
At least before she collapses in exhaustion.
***
A few miles away, sheltered by the surrounding mountains, standing on a flat ground a few miles above the plains, was the administration building of Barrier Hills, a city in the land of Cadins, the Golden Hills. The building had been making preparations for accommodating the other officials of Golden Hills, for it was almost the time for the festival of Beads of Seven. It had been fourteen years since the last festival had taken place and the war that had occurred seven years ago had taken more than just the festival.
Aaliyah, the administrative head of Barrier Hills had organized the meeting for the deciding the time and place of Beads of Seven. She wore the more formal clothing for the occassion, consisting of a tunic that reached the knees with loose trousers, with a belt wrapped around her waist giving her silhouette a neat form, all in varying shades of deep red and gold, the colours of the Golden Cadins.
She sauntered across the bridge, that connected her office to the building, calmed by the trinkling of the small stream running in between them. For the past two months, Aaliyah had been busy with the preparations for the festival, organizing and attending the meetings between various committees, negotiating with various intermediaries and dealers for supplies and travel. The bustling commotion helped her, it would take her mind off the loneliness she usually feels at her home.
Aaliyah paused on the bridge and looked down at the valley. A small breeze flew, rustling the small foliages that grew on the steep sides of the cliff overlooking into the city. The last six years had been tough for not only the Cadins but the rest of Solaria as well. Every kingdom and country was recovering from the effects of the war, that did as much as to its victors as to its defeated.
And therefore it was essential that the Beads of Seven festival go as smoothly and be celebrated as vibrantly as it could. It was a symbol of encouragement and hope, that there are only to be wonderful times ahead. That the hardships were over and it was time for prosperity and wealth. Or so, Aaliyah had hoped. Taking the time that she only had for that momentary calmness, she turned around and strode towards the building.
***
From the edge of the cliff, one could see the rolling hills of cascading green behind the small town of brick and wood. The sky was a light peaceful blue, the clouds soft and white, and the sunlight just mild enough unlike the ones in the late afternoon when it would be harsher.
Arion strapped the belts of his leather wings tightly onto his waist. It was not every day that he went gliding, but if one gets the time, one should do it. Arion took in a deep breathe and ran towards the edge of the cliff. As reached the end, he leapt into the air and swung his arms, causing a bolt of pressure and dived into the depths. The wooden wings opened up immediately because of the strong air pressure, causing his lift into the sky. Once the wings eased into the wind, Arion shifted its direction downwards, helping him glide above the town. It was not technically flying, but Kazes could manipulate the air pressure and the winds in order to stay afloat for fairly a good amount of time with their mechanical wings.
The wings had been a gift from his mother. It was part of her scouter's equipment when she had been in the Inter-Dimensional Committee or the IDC. She would tell him and his siblings about the adventures she had had when going on missions to other dimensions, about how she would use her air elemental abilities to fly about in the air, scouting and how she would use her Silver Cadin magic to make herself invisible to the ground below. Arion would sit there and listen to these stories with wonder in his eyes, and when his mother would manipulate the air around and slowly allow a breeze the flow through his hair, he could almost feel as if he were also there with his mother, scouting for infringements amongst the strings of dimensions.
Arion slowly descended down to the valley to explore the rest of the town. Down on the streets, there was a lot of bustling in the streets even though most of them were closed. A few of them worked very late into the afternoon. The produce in the farmers shops levitated into the sacks and disappeared into the gaping holes next them while the potions and the herbs, closed themselves into large briefcases and fell lightly into their owner's hands. Unlike the Great Upperwest, very less vehicles zoomed past Arion as glided across the town as the country mostly used portals as a means of transportation.
The hustle of the town slowly faded away into silence as Arion shifted himself up towards the quieter slopes. The higher altitudes reduced the heat and a cool wind drifted gently. West Hills was restricted area and no one was allowed to enter it. Portals cannot be opened from the city because of strong barrier spells surrounding it and anyone trying to enter it through the walking paths would be stopped by the officers of the IDC themselves.
Through an opening among the canopies something peculiar caught the corner of his eye. He could make out a bed of black and pink sprawled across against the lush green in a humanoid sihoutte. Arion tilted inwards and straightened his leather wings, turning himself about and returning back to the opening.
After circling the area for three to four times, he slowly descended to the ground, a few feet away from the figure. He realised it was a young girl, almost his age, wearing what looked like a pink cotton ball like skirt that took up the entirety of her body. Her unnatural looking overcoat was torn and she looked like wounded, a gnash across her calf and bruises on her face.
Her face showed perspiration, but she was unmoving. Arion treaded closely towards her. He slowly picked up the girl's hand, but was loose and fell down with exhaustion.
'Hey.' He said as he gently tapped across her face. Somehow, he saw a single tear trace it's way down her face into the ground. Not missing another second, Arion put his hands underneath her arms and legs and picked her up.
Allowing the air to accumulate underneath him, he pushed himself off the ground and towards Aaliyah's office.