Courting the Night

The trees surround me, crouched in the blackness. Her presence is ever reassuring. I pull the string back, aiming down my line of sight. They stand around a miniscule fire, huddling in the cold. They've come to the wrong place, they've ventured too far into forests they're not welcome in. The soft sound of snapping branches alerts them, they show their guilt in their fear of being found. The arrow is notched, my arms quiver, but she gives me strength. The wind flares, she whispers into my ear and I let go. My arrow flies true. The man falls to the ground, dead far before his weight unsettles the earth.
The men scramble, Chaos has found his way into their blood. They pick up their silly weapons, they call to me. I adjust my position swiftly, my feet trample over no branch, leave no distinguishable path. I draw another arrow, another man dead. Fear consumes them, the night fuels my every movement. Another falls to me. Three remain.
They're shouting now, backs to each other, as if that could stop me. Her hand hovers over mine now, drawing back another arrow. This one impales two men together, leaving their companion hysterical. Criminals rarely wish to face their punishment. This one, the last of them, smells of blood and of blasphemy. The darkness wraps around my feet, compelling me into the light of their dying flame.
He's abandoned his weapon, stunned to the ground and attempting to keep breath from escaping him in panic. His comrades lay dead paces away due to my arrows, I stare at their lifeless eyes, forever looking into oblivion. Their bodies have fallen into uncomfortable positions, mouths wide open as to yell, but forever silenced. I feel nothing.
I see this man, I see his fear and confusion. He stares at my pale flesh and dark tattoos, at my small frame and dirty face. He doesn't understand how something so small could kill so easily. He doesn't know of my origins, of my purpose. I notch another arrow. He scrambles, hoping to regain himself before I can send his soul to the otherworld. He is able to clutch his sword before my arrow is embedded within his throat. One last gurgle erupts from him before death takes him.
The laws of this world are of no concern to me. Thieves, rapists, and murderers are all the same to this forest, to the night, to me. With blood, I draw her divine symbol upon the forehead of each. They will be strung up in the trees by my people come morning. They will bare the mark of divine retribution and all will know that another criminal has been killed in the name of the mother night.
She calls to me, whispering in my ear. My flesh burns to feel her embrace. I leave the scene of carnage, the scent of death is blown away by the wind as I travel through the deep maze of foliage. My feet travel over the earth, barefoot and capable of feeling their way past every thorn or haphazard root. I make my way to our meeting place. My sanctuary, my temple.
My people have long since worshiped the Goddess of the night. Marking our skin in the patterns of the tendrils of darkness. We live in her name, we kill in her name, and we die in her name. Mother to death, sleep, and divine retribution. She is all encompassing. She rarely gives her favor to mortals, but in her favor I have come to reside.

She steps into our world. The sight of her always causes me to drop to my knees, I kiss the ground and beg for the worthiness to gaze upon her ethereal form. She laces silky fingers underneath my chin. My heart beats faster whenever she touches me. I stare into her eyes as she wills me from the ground. She's never truly spoken to me, never in sound, but every whisper of the night wind conveys her words.

The night is cold, she tangles her long fingers into my hair. The wind is still, her black lips kiss away my exhaustion. My bow is at my side, forgotten. I am in the night's embrace. Her skin is as pale as the moon, her hair is as black as the darkness, with eyes that burn like the distant stars. Her touch plays over my flesh, causing shivers to consume my being.

I have fallen for the night.

Reviews

[Mathias Winters]

This would make a great prologue to a larger story, but as it stands right now it's still pretty darn good. The only problem I see is that it keeps describing what is happening without any dialogue, which can be a tricky situation if you want to keep something interesting and balanced. The reason that it kept me reading though was the interesting stuff that was going on in the story, and the original idea. I just wish that there were more to the story.