THE AVENGERS

The rain fell, a sheet of relief over the thirsting forest. Its relaxing sound bringing a slight tranquility. Such peace was rare these days. Greed had overcome reason, and caused the spill of blood. Friends were lost, families torn, innocent became victims in the brawls. Friends...oh how Lenore longed for the past! She missed her own dearly, and their memory was treasured in her heart. That was a completely different world. Best forget it. Its gone now...

She raised her head up to the sky, barely visible through the thick forest canopy, and opened her mouth to let the rain run down her dry throat. Another memory came, butting into her life uncalled for once more.

She spun, arms out at sides, hair whipping about her face, soaked by the morning storm. Laughter erupted from deep within her, a feeling of pure ecstasy. She was young. Large sparkling eyes, a broad smile, with a mane of golden hair. Her innocence knew no war, no bloodshed, no prejudice, no hate. She was free. Free to love, to trust, to care without hesitation.

"No more!" she told herself. Lenore's own figure caught her eye in the reflection found in a trickling forest stream. Her eyes were empty, lost, as though she had locked up inside herself. Yes, they still had their lovely hue, but had something else too. fear, pain, loss. she had seen so much. Far more than anyone should ever have to see. Too much to bear. Her hands were rough and callused from living in the woods. Her hair fell limply about her face. A gash adorned her cheek, crimson in color. It would be there evermore, a scar constantly torturing her with images she longed to forget...

The corsair's face held no pity. He was nearly grinning as though murder was a game. His blade was drawn. It was crude, yet sharp and eager to taste flesh. Flesh that it had to right to. Flesh that teemed with youth. His flesh- Efron's. No raider could have it. She ran, fabric clinging to her sweat-covered skin. Her dress in tatters from the fire and the thorns. Scalded skin screamed in pain, but she paid it no mind. A staff enclosed in her hand, she was only a beginner in its art. She had to try. The raider was preparing to kill Efron, she had to be quick. She pointed the staff at her target, and she was thrust backwards with the power that erupted from inside her. It tore at the raider's life, stealing all it could. He took so much from her already, how dare he think to kill her friend! The rage inside her gave her pure power she was unaware she had. A furious snarl formed on the bandits lips, as he changed directions and came straight at her....

Lenore was alone. The bandit was gone. Merely a memory, yet sweat collected on her brow. She couldn’t forget him though. Because of him, and the other banana who charged into her life so rudely, she was ruined. Returning to her reflection, she noticed how her strength showed plainly on her lean figure. Her limbs were powerful, as they had to be. Surviving each day was a challenge. More scars from fights were engraved on her chillingly pale skin. Her lips had likely forgotten how to smile. Feet rough from the lack of shoes. Her stomach carved with abs so rare in women. The rain had washed away the dried mud and a glimpse of her former self flickered, then was lost. Her attempts to hold back the dire recollections that rushed mercilessly upon her were in vain.

The body of the raider lay still at her feet. She had killed. A young girl of 16 had slain a man. Just as her reason was, the knowledge still caused her to tremble. She turned to Efron who sat beside her, pale with fear.

“Len….Lenore!” he managed to choke out. He was alive. Tears streamed from her eyes. “Your… your cheek!” Efron’s face was pained. A slender hand found the deep cut on her face, and when she pulled her hand away, it was smeared dark with blood. Lenore gasped, suddenly realizing the excruciating throbbing. Tearing off a strip of fabric from his tunic, Efron pressed it against the flow of blood.

The raiders! She abruptly recalled the danger. Turning, she saw the few remaining bandits fleeing… with bags of valuables and a new slave…Lenore’s own age…dark haired and willowy. The girl looked back and her teary green eyes met Lenore’s own.
“FAWNE!” Lenore shrieked, but there was nothing to be done. They were getting away. Where were the others? Directing her eyes toward the village, she saw neighbors lying dead in the street, their families and friends in hysterics. She knew most of them. Acquaintances, her cousin, a newborn… she shuddered in pain so deep it tore at her heart. Twas not just from physical injuries, but from the greatest feeling of loss.

A shrill scream snapped Lenore out of her recollections with a start. Alert and prepared, staff in hand, the lonesome necromancer swiftly made her way though the forest. Her sharp ears told her of the direction, and despite the growing fog and the sheets rain, she kept on the trail. If need be, she’d be apt to finish any foes.