Rebellion (The Whispers of the Fallen) by J.D. Netto

Author:J.D. Netto
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Untreed Reads Publishing
Published: 2014-05-28T00:00:00+00:00

XII

Though my eyelids were heavy, I could not sleep. In my mind, I kept seeing the frightening image of the creature that had attacked me. Never in my fourteen hundred years had I seen such a monstrosity. What other devilries had infiltrated Elysium? My mind was too preoccupied with the many unanswered questions that still lingered. I watched the fire burn low while trying to think of logical answers.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow outside. I heard the faint neigh of a horse and the groans of a man.

I grabbed my sword, rising to my feet. After a couple of seconds, the footsteps ceased. I could still hear the labored breaths of both the horse and the man.

With great caution, I opened the door. The cold air invaded the living room. I stepped outside and caught sight of the animal and its rider standing immobile in front of the door. The man was wrapped in a thick, dark fur cape; his head curved down.

Was he an enemy? Where had this man come from?

He let out painful groans as he lifted his head.

“Help me,” he whispered in a broken voice.

“Who are you?” With caution, I took three steps in his direction, my feet sinking beneath the snow.

“Help…” His voice trailed off as he fell unconscious. I ran to him once I realized that he was about to fall from his horse. The moment my hands touched him, I smelled the pungent odor of rotten flesh. I held my breath, fixing my eyes on his narrow face. A gash flowing with blood took the place of his right eye. He seemed to be in his mid-thirties; a tattered dark beard covered his face. The horse was also wounded with a long cut on its neck.

“Devin!” I looked back and saw Isaac running toward me. “Who is this man?”

“I am not sure. He is badly wounded.” The man groaned in pain. “Take the horse to the stall while I bring him inside,” I said, rushing my way to the house.

Where had this man come from? What kind of creature had wounded him this way?

“Ballard!” I yelled, marching up the stairs. The man let out low groans.

“Yes,” he croaked. He opened the door of his room, rubbing his eyes with his hands. Petra stood behind him with a worried look on his face.

“I need you.” I barged inside.

“Who is that? What is that smell?” Petra inquired, making his way to the window. He covered his nose.

“I don’t know.” I laid him on the bed. Demetre entered the room. His face was shrouded with fear once he laid eyes on the man.

“Help.” The man struggled to raise his left hand. Sweat poured down his face like a waterfall.

“Get me water, Petra,” Ballard ordered while analyzing the severe condition of the man’s face. Petra rushed his way out.

“What is all this noise?” Xylia stood under the doorpost. Her eyes widened once she saw the horrific scene. “How may I help?” She rushed her way to us.

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