Ferin woke to pain. It wasn't the good sort of pain of having worked yourself to exhaustion the previous day. No, this was a different pain, sharp, agonizing. And why was his bed so uncomfortable?
Shouts. A hail of arrows falling about him. Friends dying. One piercing his shoulder. Sword in hand. Tree exploding. Flying through the air. Striking another tree. Head cracking against thick bark. Darkness.
Right. That's why. He slowly opened his eyes, difficult with his lids crusted with dried blood. One arm worked a least, as he lifted it to rub his eyes clear. His right arm. Good. He would still be able to hold his sword. His left arm was pain. His vision cleared he could see the fletching of the arrow still lodged in his shoulder.
When shot by an arrow leave it in until someone can cauterize or stitch it, else you'll likely bleed out.
The voice of Gasten his sergeant came to him like he was still in training, though he had been a full guardsman for four years now. He touched where the arrow pierced his flesh, the wound seemed clean, bloody, but not ragged. Good, the arrow should keep him from bleeding out. His arm felt broken though from where he impacted the tree. No bone had torn through the skin fortunately. A tender examination of his head with his fingers found dried and matted blood, a bruised pate, but otherwise it seems the impact had just knocked him out. With no sounds of battle around him, the attackers must have taken his for one of the dead.
He examined his surroundings and saw only fallen bodies, many of them looted, a wrecked carriage, and the usual carrion feeders and scavengers that prowled abandoned battlefields after the bloodshed had ended. Quietly he fished the black stone arrowhead he wore on a leather thong around his neck and held it in his hand, offering up a quick prayer of thanks. His grandfather's necklace and his lucky charm. If his survival wasn't luck, he didn't know what it was.
Maybe not luck. He'd be the one that would have to traipse back to Chasynne with news of this and proof of the prince's demise. That was a good way to ruin a career and dry up any chance at promotion. Why couldn't he have just been a hunter like his father and grandfather. Oh right. Because half the woods they used to hunt was no farmland and the other half the royal woods, and that would be poaching. He grumbled as he got unsteadily to his feet, then groped at his empty scabbard.
Right. He had dropped the sword. A quick glance around showed him most weaponry had been looted. Swords were valuable, especially those made in the royal forges. Kneeling, he turned over one of the other guardsmen, not looking at the face. He didn't want to know which of his friends he was searching. There it was, hidden in the boot. A knife. Not the best weapon but better than nothing. He had lost his own boot knife in a card game three days ago. He looked down at the knife and cursed under his breath. Same knife.
"Sorry, Tass. Seems your luck with cards only went so far." He reached up to close Tass' eyelids. With the knife and his own cloak, he cut free some fabric to make a sling for his broken arm. Sighing softly as he settled the weight of the broken limb into the makeshift sling.
Now to find the prince. He stood and stumbled over to the carriage, looking around for the prince's body. It probably would have been stripped of anything valuable, but even the royal crest from his cloak could be brought back for proof. Except.. where was the little shit?
Ferin's eyes caught the trail. Boots moving away from the carriage and into the woods. Clean soles, sharp lines, no wear. These were not the boots of someone who walked much, at least not outdoors. He had always taken pride in his tracking and stalking skills, it was what had earned him a place in the royal guard instead of the regular army. He was one of the best scouts and trackers in the guard, and f his instincts were right, the prince may have just gotten away.
He started following the trail, frowning as two other tracks joined his. Pursuers. Three going through the woods made for an easy path to follow, especially with a woodlands inept idiot like the prince snapping every branch in his path. A bit of silk cloth dangling from a snapped twig. A splatter of blood on leaves. It was basically a brightly painted sign for Ferin.
He had to stop and catch his breath occasionally, leaning against a tree as he let his pain settle back down. Ever wary of bumping the damned arrow in his shoulder into things. But eventually he reached a clearing with a large standing stone in the middle. He had heard of such places from his grandfather. Primitive altars of the beastmen tribes. He hadn't been aware there were any in this area.
The scuffs and marks on the ground read of a fight, short, quick, and brutal. With one non-human participant. A large predator, or maybe one of the beastmen. He did pick up one of the discarded swords and examined it, wiping some of the dried blood off it's edge onto the leaves. Not the best work, but better than a dagger. He tucked it through his belt.
Finally he managed to separate the princes tracks again, leading to the monolith. Ferrin approached carefully, as the stone seemed to be pulsing with a faint red light. He didn't even notice the arrowhead around his neck glowing the same hue, pulsing as if in response to the stone. It felt so warm, so..
Ferrin didn't even realize he was reaching out to the stone, placing his hand against it. Energy coursed through his body, connecting the stone and his amulet through him. For a moment his entire body blazed brightly in the evening woods. He didn't feel any pain, just warmth, like stepping in front of the hearth at your home after a long voyage.
The warmth faded, his pains returned, and with it an overwhelming exhaustion. He felt his legs giving out and twisted his fall just enough to keep from falling in a way to drive the arrow further into his shoulder. Darkness crept in at the corners of his vision, along with voices.
"I swear I saw a light from the stone! Let's just check!"
"Wait! Is that a human?"
"He look injured, maybe we should bring him back?"
"A human?"
"You'd just let someone die.. wait.. what's that around his neck?"
"It can't be. Fine, bring him, they'll understand once they see that." As the last bit of darkness clouded his eyes and unconsciousness took him, he felt himself being lifted up in powerful arms.