Going Feet First Ch. 02

Screaming in her mind, Celia forced the threatening terror of being without her sisters from her conscious mind. This fear pumping through her veins, of being out in the world without their support, needed to be quelled or she would not last out here. She wanted this. To live a life outside of her clan, to explore and learn more of the other people and places in her world just like Tanza and a few of her other sisters had.

The time had come for her to grow up and stop being a child. She was ready, and she knew her day had arrived the moment she met her warrior. Through his love, she would find her courage, and she may be able to help others beyond Atzla and do her family proud.

She had her knowledge of nature, she had her unity with the Atzla forest, and she had him. No foe could stand against him just as there was no trial they could face in these woods that she could not overcome. There was no doubt that it was either Necela or destiny that brought him to her with how perfectly he matched her own ambitions. And if they stayed together, then she knew they would all be fine in the end.

Knowing this, Celia nestled into her love's uniform and waited as he continued to watch the village entrance through his spy piece. Admiring his strong features as he finally lowered the tubes from his eyes and frowned.

"I don't think the guards are there to keep people out," he inferred with a quizzical look. "They look more like watchmen keeping out the riffraff than anything else. So long as we don't approach too fast and keep from looking hostile, I'm sure they won't mind us. Come on, let's go."

"What's riffraff?" Celia asked as he packed his spy piece into his rucksack.

Hearing her question brought a thoughtful look came about the soldier's as he stood up and helped her do the same. The white loin cloth hanging between her legs caught momentarily on a bush and caused the Elf to stumble, but she was able to take a solid stance and yank the article free. Without further delay, the couple joined hands and stepped out into the clearing.

"Riffraff is a word we use where I come from... means something like unwanted persons," he answered as the guards noticed their emerging from the tree line. "And it's not something we want to appear to be."

His words barely connected in Celia's mind as the Elf suddenly felt as though her heart was pierced by a thousand needles. Hundreds of tree-stumps all around the clearing looked as though they had been hacked down with dull axes. Not an easy task, as it had to be done over the course of several zetrans or even a day for each tree. It was clear to the forest creature that these humble deciduous beings had suffered much in their felling, and their mutilated bases continued to do so.

In a low voice, she mumbled a few words to bring the toes of her boots to a dim glow. Stepping over the remains of the fallen trees caused tiny branches covered with leaves to sprout up silently from the center of the stumps the second her foot pulled away. She glanced back at these new sprites, watching them reach ankle height after just a few counts. Smiling gracefully at the trees' sudden rebirth, she lit her toes again and let her magic go with each step she took.

It was a pleasant surprise for her to find that her ability to make plants grow hadn't been lost with her separation from her clan.

The friendly conversation between the two Willher guards ahead came to an end as one them began to yell at Galen in Nekonian. The other guard decided to back off a bit and drift a bit to the left of his partner with his bow at the ready. To the approaching Human and Elf, it was clear that they meant business as he pulled an arrow from the quiver on his back and nocked it onto the drawstring of his bow.

Reacting to the archer, Galen's hand drifted to the holster on his hip and gripped the leather strap securing the flap over his sidearm. The snap popped open with a single tug to leave the pistol free to be drawn in an instant. As there was no way he could bring his rifle around in time before that Neko could unleash his arrow, the soldier at least made sure he was ready to draw at any moment. Given their simple armor it was likely more than enough to turn the tide if they decided they wanted him dead.

"You speak Human?" Galen called out as he and Celia made their approach.

The two guards were a good twenty yards from the gate when the forward guard responded, "I speak your tongue, Human. Name you and her who follow you."

Shaking his head at what was really poor English, the soldier answered, "I'm Galen Martin, this is Celia. We're just lookin' for our friends, maybe ya know 'em? One's name is Mila, she's from your village, and the other is Michael P-"

"Are you the Human we are expecting?" The Nekonian interrupted, his partner lowering his bow.

A tense breath cleared Galen's lungs as they returned their weapons to their respective sheath and quiver. Following that came a soft click that sounded from his holster to confirm he got the snap back in place. The tight grasp Celia had on his arm loosened off then as well, a sigh of relief escaping her as her aura returned to its normal brightness.

Both the guards took a much friendlier stance, their intimidating, feline faces turning friendly as Galen freely approached them. When he came close enough, one of the guards bowed apologetically as he explained, "We are... sorry for threats. We watch for Ra'zorlichs. You warrior who fell the troll?"

A small smile crossed Galen's face as he stood dumbfounded for a moment. Both guards stared quizzically at him, waiting for an answer. Opening his mouth to speak and then shutting it again, Galen raised index one finger to the guard to signal him to wait a moment as he leaned over and whispered in Celia's ear asking, "What's a troll?"

"The giant creature you saved me from, love," she answered.

With a quick nod and a firm smile, the Private patted his rifle as he answered, "Yeah, that was me. It was trying to kill my Elvish friend here before I blew out its knee."

The two Neko warriors grinned in unison as he gave that last detail. "So it was you. You welcome here, Human. You find your friend with Mila in her tent. Walk straight on main path, her tent on the left after the third wooden home. If not found there, may be at the grand fire in center of village."

"Thank you kindly, sirs," the young soldier responded, habitually giving a quick salute. The warriors bowed their heads and pressed their fists to their chests and stepped aside to allow them into the village. As the couple passed them by, the two guards went back to speaking in their native tongue. Hushed words were exchanged between them as they eyed the Human in silent wonder and quizzed each other for their knowledge on myths and legends in regards to the Elf.

...

Celia found herself snug against Galen's bicep as they passed by groups of Nekos conversing on the village's main path. She knew there were a lot of people within the walls of the settlement, but not this many! She'd seen more since entering the gate than her clan had twice over. Yet the infrastructure around them was only made up of single room shacks of varying sizes, or large canvas tents. Very little of it proving to be of much better quality than what her clan could craft and they didn't have tools, only magic.

Suddenly whole families started filing out of several of these homes to move toward the main plume of smoke rising from the center of their home. From what the Elf could tell, these Willhers weren't reacting to anything peculiar. In fact they seemed to be excited and babbling about a ceremony until a child noticed the new additions to their village.

The small red-furred boy pointed and openly asked, very loudly in how native language, who the furless people were.

Many of the Nekos in the area near-instantly turned to stare and Galen slowed his pace as he glanced about at all the eyes fixing upon them. Celia swallowed as a choking feeling slowly clamped down on her throat as she moved with him closer to the village center. It felt as if a layer of rust was forming on the inside of her lungs while her heart pumped ash into her veins. Crippling pains bled into her chest, yet the Elf did her best to hold her composure.

She was sure that whatever was doing this to her body had to be environmental, and when they reached whatever home her soldier searched for, it was sure to cease. Hopefully.

Only then a gust of wind whipped through the crowd to carry that smoke right up the street and into Celia's face. In that moment, every nerve in her airway from her nose to the bottom of her lungs felt as if they had been lit ablaze. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried herself in the folds of Galen's sleeve and emptied her seared lungs with an agonized scream.

"Celia?!" he cried, grabbing her by the shoulder.

"Galen? Is that you?" a female voice called.

The Elf would have looked to who spoke her soldier's name but her watery eyes stung too much to open. A torch seemed to slowly scald the inside of her skull as thousands of tortured screams filled her ears. Her knees buckled under her own weight, the golden aura about her body flickering like a dying bulb as she let out another screech of pain.

"Celia?! Celia, what's wrong?!" Galen panicked, holding onto her protectively as her legs lost their strength.

The commotion drew the attention of any Neko who hadn't already noticed. All of them wondering why a Human was suddenly yelling or why the Elf couldn't support her own frail body. Several of the watching Willhers started worry themselves when he had to hoist her back up to her feet as her legs gave out completely. The weight of his own gear worked against him as he had to press her body tightly against his own to help support her and get her mouth close enough to his ear for him to hear what she had to say.

She struggled to assist any way she could, making Galen grimace as she dug her nails into his shoulder and attempted to lift herself up. With both eyes still clenched shut, she finally got close enough to whimper, "I have to leave... I hear their screams in this smoke... they are in pain... and their pain hurts me."

Panic had the blood pounding in Galen's ears. Not fully understanding her meaning, he swept his right arm up under her knees and lifted her whole body off the ground. Holding her close to his chest, he began to run through the crowd of Nekos who had gathered. Many of them quickly parting so he could get by unobstructed.

Once again came a welcome voice he could hardly hear through the crowd saying, "Michael, Galen returned!"

"Mila!" the Private called back, finally spotting the Neko he was searching for. "Help me! There's somethin' wrong with Celia!"

Standing at the entrance of a tent, the tracker cocked her head at the soldier and asked, "Who's Celia?"

Dashing through another group of Willhers, turning sideways as to not hit his passenger's head on any bystanders, he snapped back, "I'll explain after! I need t'get her outta the smoke!"

"Here, come to my home!"

As the Elf vaguely wondered what they two had just said, she focused the last of her energy in holding on to her Human as she faded fast in his arms. Head lolling off to the side and opening her eyes just enough to see, she could see he was carrying her straight toward a tent with a Neko woman standing at the entrance. Her yelling at the people in the way finally getting the rest of them to move so they could come through.

Not a moment too soon.

The second they were at her doorstep, this woman jerked open the canvas door so her soldier wouldn't have to slow down as he rushed her inside. The spacious, circular tent she found herself in was much the same as any other in the village, perhaps even smaller than some near the gate. From wall to wall, the quarters were easily five paces wide and the roof was a full head and a half taller than Galen. There was even a small flap opened up near the peak to allow the full moon to light up the inside. On central post hung some of the fancy equipment Galen wore, along with what looked to be a metal crutch hooked into it.

Expelling the smoke from her chest, Celia feebly tried to take in air but her lungs still felt ravaged. And her persisting weakness only caused more worry from her soldier as she drew shallow breaths in his arms. At least she felt better now but there was still smoke in the doorway. Still denying her breath. If he just took another pace forward...

...

Galen did a quick scan of the tent Mila led him into. First thing he noticed, aside from a lack of furnishings, was that every crate from the crashed Hercules C-130 stacked beside the grassy bed on the far side of the tent. Issued combat webbing was hanging off the center post with Michael's crutch, and beside the door was a US Army issue reserve chute spread out to make an additional sleeping space. And lying on top of it was a familiar Sergeant that he was relieved to see.

Michael was just propping himself up on his side when he had come through the door. His greeting looked to have been on the tip of his tongue only for him to freeze the instant he saw the Elf that lay limp in the young soldier's arms. Instead of a warm welcome, what he got instead was a confused, "Who the Hell is that?"

"I ain't got time to explain," Galen said, darting to the vacant grass bed on the other side of the tent. The second he got Celia away from the door, she took a sudden, sharp inhale as though a clamp just released from her throat.

"Water," she gasped, fighting with her next breath.

"Right away!" He pulled his pack off and threw his rifle aside to remove that weight off his back. With fumbling hands he then managed to pull his canteen off his combat webbing, spin off the lid, and then bring it to her cracking lips, "Here, drink."

The Elf desperately lapped up the water as it drained into her mouth. When he tilted the canteen down to slow the stream, she pushed it back up to get as much as she could before she suddenly choked. A sudden cough sent a surge of water spraying from her mouth and into his face that had him drawing back the canteen and blinking to get the stray drops from his eyes.

Strength returning to her body, Celia managed to sit up and with lightening hands she swiped the container back from him. In seconds she gulped down the last of its contents and broke down into a coughing fit before handing it back to the awed soldier. Her record time in downing an entire quart made him wonder what had happened to make her so parched.

When her cough settled down, he noticed that she still couldn't calm her heavy breathing. Beads of sweat were rolling alongside fresh tears down her cheeks as they flushed with a rose color. She turned to him then, and with a whimper she threw her arms around him and buried her face into his shoulder as she began to weep.

"What was that? What's wrong?" he asked, one hand rubbing her shoulder blade as the other held the back of her head.

"You cannot feel it, but the trees... Their pain... They are suffering. Suffering most terribly."

"The trees? I don't understand, I thought you lost your forest connection," He glanced out the door into the smoky street.

"I was born with this bond. No magic can completely sever it. I can still feel a tree's spirit when its body burns with it still trapped inside," she whimpered, arms tightening up around Galen. "Their agony comes out in the smoke."

"What the Hell are you two saying, Private?"

Both soldier and Elf turned toward Michael, who sat dumbfounded at the pair before him. The girl with the long, green hair sniffled as she mumbled something to Galen, who answered back in the same foreign tongue. Then the Private's M14 began to groan beside him. The Sergeant's brow rose as he stared at the two across the tent and the possessed rifle, utterly flabbergasted.

"Michael, this is Celia. A Tree Elf," Galen finally said to him in English before turning back to his new friend and speaking in her tongue.

The senior soldier's broad, green eyes bounced back and forth between the two in front of him. A hint of suspicion coming over them as he focused a narrow glare on Celia. There was something about that glowing aura coming from her core immediately made him leery of her presence. Not to mention her suddenly appearing alongside Galen after he goes missing for a day.

And then the Private, a small town boy who never bothered with a second language a day in his life, now spoke so fluently in a tongue he had never even heard before.

Michael's thoughts were interrupted by a soft hand placed upon his shoulder. He turned his head to see Mila kneeling down beside him.

"You have any idea what they're saying?" she whispered.

"Not a clue, and I'm getting awful tired of being left in the dark," he grumbled, turning his attention back to the new couple and snapping, "Private Martin!!"

Both the soldier and his new friend jumped and turned to him at once, the Elf's nearly steady breath picking up again as she hastily wiped away a tear. She muttered a few words, words Galen was swift to respond to before swapping back to English, "What is it, Michael?"

The Elf fearfully drew her cloak around her, drawing her knees up to partially cover her face as the Sergeant growled, "You got a lot of explaining to do, right fucking now."

..............................

Two Nekos prowled along the ground on the edge of the clearing around the wreckage of the C-130. Their black, furry bodies moving though the grass like snakes on glass in the moonlight. Their dark eyes scanned over the fuselage of the plane to check for any sign of movement amongst the twisted metal and dangling cables. One of them even dared to throw a stone against the hollow aluminum body, a loud clang breaking the calm night. The only reaction she managed to stir up was a pair of small winged creatures fleeing out the other side.

"It is clear, the Humans are gone," one whispered before they both stood up.

"Damn," the other cursed as she gritted her teeth and flexed her clawed hands. She gave a frustrated hmph and swung her head to flip her long, thick braid of black hair behind her. Her tail flicked to one side as the dark steel band holding her intricate design together batted softly against her lower back.

Being pitch black, with a dark, grey undercoat, her soft fur matched the color of the shadows around her perfectly to blend in to the nighttime environment. Even when there was a full moon she could disappear anywhere the moon couldn't see. It was both an advantage, and the most basic requirement to become a Shadow Stalker. Only Nekos like herself born the color of darkness who could become one with the shadows when stalking the kill could join their ranks. Thus the name.

But all her stealth was for nothing if the kill was gone. Brandishing an annoyed sneer upon her face, the lead Stalker with the braid crossed her arms over the cloth wrap that kept her breasts pressed firm and motionless against her chest. The cloth wrap wound around her pelvic region caused her a bit of discomfort as she shifted her hips, the rough linen rubbing uncomfortably against her sex though her pride wouldn't dare allow her to complain.

With narrowed dark, brown eyes she focused on the area before her, forming a broad image in her mind and storing it away in her memory. If even a pebble were to be moved, she would notice. If prey were to so much as shift a blade of grass, even if initially undetected, she would notice when she looked upon this sight again. Her memory was impeccable, her eye for detail impossible to beat.