Crimmy's Books

 She was going to kill him and no one would tell her otherwise. 
  The man’s stare pinned on her face and the anger lingering on it. He bared his teeth, hauling her over his shoulder, Elodie stunned by how she was unable to move. A part of her was relieved he didn’t strip off her armor. She felt safer knowing that she wore it, for no one could break it if they wanted to. Forged by a peculiar blacksmith, her silver plate was made with such intricacy as she watched. When it had been prepared, the old man only told her to only wonder through nights and rearrange the stars, if need be. 
  Scarlet waves dangled over his back, exposing her neck to the cold. She could still scent the pricking smoke that had invaded the territory. 
  “It wasn’t respectful, what you did back there,” he mused. Paralyzed under his power, she would’ve choked him to death by now. Elodie eyed the refined blackness of his cloak, wondering if anything could outmatch the color of it. Her eyelids were heavy, but she kept a keen eye open. His steps thudded on pebbles, and dusty roads. 
  They weren’t out of the forest yet. 
  Elodie needed, wanted silence as her companion. This man didn’t have the nerve to break it. The greenery of his eyes drove her mad when it met hers, a dark umber from a mother who died after Elodie was brought into this world. His eyes prompted a memory in her head, where the sun settled between northern mountains, and she rolled down a meadow of green. 
  Her skin prickled by the grasses and flowers, hair stained with dirt and soil, a weight was loosed on her shoulders. She’d been very young then. Her guildmates were, too. The bickering voices were unending that she’d force herself to hurl the dagger between their noses. Everyone would be frozen in place, stop eating, and Elodie collapsed in her own laughter. 
  Oh, the looks on their faces--- 
  She’d… never see them. She’d--- 
  “Don’t waste this perfect night dwelling on their death,” he drawled. 
  She shot a glare at the cloak. “I will kill you from the second you put me down.” 
  He yawned, like carrying her weight, including the armor, had been simple. “Are those the only words you know how to say?” 
  She said nothing. But after a moment of thought and consideration, he took in his advice. Grieving about their sudden demise would never bring them back. But that didn’t prevent Elodie to kill him. “This night could’ve been at least satisfying if you died in my hands.” 
  “Doesn’t sound bad as it seems,” he said, Elodie feeling him grin. “You might be wondering why you’re so stiff.” 
  The wind sailed its harshest blow across the wilderness, patches of light revealing at the back of the man’s steps. As if they were breadcrumbs. Her stomach turned a bit, although his voice guaranteed that no harm will touch her skin. She hadn’t known why she thought that. 
  “It’s magic,” the man spoke. “Only wizards possess it.” 
  Elodie took that in calmly, as though she’d been so familiar with the word and its use. She didn’t but heard of he gossips. Few say they were gone, some say that they were banished, most say that it didn't exist, to begin with.The wind picked up, its breeze colder than the last. Blood rushed to her head, growing lightheaded, her consciousness fainting, and her eyes rolling to the whites. 
  As if she’d ordered him, the man hoisted her body, pinning her to a nearby oak, marking it with his thumb. A flash of white burned his fingerprint, carved perfectly on wood. Her mouth slipped out a groan. 
  His broad hands lifted off the hood, showing his hair first, then the entire face. Women would’ve done anything to get this man into their arms. It would’ve been the end of the world if it weren’t for the sensuous curves of his rosebud lips, shadows underneath those big eyes that was… 
  That was staring at her. 
  The sight of him drunk every bit of her fatigue, wondering if it had been his magic manipulating her again. “Oh, it wasn’t,” he smirked. 
  “You,” she said wearily, “do you know what I’m thinking?” 
  In reply, the man frowned at her like he realized something. He shifted on his feet, dropping a sack beside her. 
  “There,” he said. It was full of necessities, a pile of food, and 2 pitchers. He was tethering a white cloth to his wrist, then dunked his head to pull off his tunic, sweat strolling down on the muscles. Down and down and down. Canine teeth ripped half the tunic, as the man crouched by Elodie. They were a breath away. 
  The nameless man wrapped the ripped clothing around her wrist, where his hand tanned a burnt mark. She didn’t notice them until now, as he neatly bound the bandage on her wrists. He tightened it and Elodie winced. 
  “You didn’t really kill them, did you?” she rasped. His head lifted up instantly. 
  The green faintly glimmered, even if he was in the shadow of a massive oak. “No,” he replied. “I didn’t.” 
  Elodie believed him. "Then why?" her eyes darted to her body that dismissed the idea to ever move. 
  "Because I can do as I please." It wasn't an answer. 
  "PLEASE," she yelled, her slanted eyes squinting from the stinging blow from the east. She let out a grunt, and her body refused to cooperate, stretching out her neck as she felt her head snapping out of her body. His power felt like a rope that chained her to the tree itself, only stronger. 
  "HEY---" 
  "No," he responded, arms crossed, his muscles bulging. "The answer's going to be no." 
  "Even if a beautiful woman pleads for you to let her go?" she purred. 
  "It would be interesting," he placed a finger under his chin, "if I got an advantage of it right now." 
  Elodie barked a curse, daring that he come any closer, she'd bite. She panted, the desperation to free herself aching in her chest. She no longer pressed on the conversation when he descended from the branch, feet steady on the ground. He wasn't going to leave her, she knew. The man needed to scavenge for wood.  

    The figure swallowed in the shadow of towering trees did Elodie's toes began to curl. There was an ample time for escaping, but his magic held on to her. It'd be useless. Magic couldn't be released by the victim it held captive, however, it was possible, if the victim offered an equal amount of force. The farther, deeper, that shirtless bastard went into the woods, she felt a wire was severed from her head. Good. 
  Every thread of power gathered in her arms and legs, gradually shouldering and wrestling. She was consistently battling his power as a river of silver light streamed on the path they'd strayed. She heaved a tiring sigh, indicating that she'd been expecting the man by now. Couldn't he feel it? 
  "You guessed that correctly." Her head suddenly whirled to that familiar voice, sweat beading her brow. A trickle of fright went down her spine when she caught a wicked grin on his face. 
  "Congratulations! You just wrestled your way out. Now, you have to untangle the magic on your lower body." 
  Elodie growled. "You bastard!" 
  "I've been called worse," he beamed for a split second but no longer than that. His face turned grim, shadows under his eyes, summoning a challenge upon her. "Now. I suggest you do it." 
  "Do what?!" 
  "Why, escape," he snorted. "Unless, of course, you'd rather be eaten by wolves at midnight." 
  "Wait, these are---" 
  "Oh, no, dear." His body gracefully thudded atop of the damp soil, the light slowly creeping in. 
  He clicked his tongue, "These creatures bore the blood of fiends that travel with two feet. Their territory lies in your camp, so either you have a deathwish, or you're just entirely stupid." 
  She was ensnared under his might. How could she possibly get out of this? 
  "I didn't catch your name," she muttered, her eyes withdrawing from his eternal gaze. 
  "Now why would I do that?" The man pocketed for his dagger, flinging it by its hilt. It missed her head. 
  Elodie spat, "So I know that I'll remember it when I find you." 
  His face was smoldered with indignation, a hand on his waist, the other scratching his unkempt hair. He was a god of beauty, Elodie thought, detailing every line of his biceps, the way it curved down his abdomen. She surveyed most of it already, and, as if asking for more of him, he smiled. Well, it had been more of a simper than a smile of triumph. 
  "If you wanted a view, you could've just asked." 
  "But I didn't ask, did I?" she teased. 
  "Oh, but you were thinking about it." She felt a deep force dwindling, its control fading by the minute. She averted her gaze and looked at her thighs. Her knees were glued together, but they moved slightly nonetheless. Hips undulating, her toes curled, thighs shivering from the frosty wind sweeping through her hair. Eventually, the force collapsed into her hands as she finally rested a hand on the wood, knees slightly buckling. Her breathing uneven, she didn't know why she discerned an undetected sensation that guaranteed her safety. A streak of fear dwelled underneath her expressionless face, but she whirled, suddenly recoiling in horror--- 
  Wolves prowled atop the boulders below, the faint silhouettes she noticed. The wind had stopped, or maybe it had been her heart. Their claws would reach her at any moment. Worse. They could climb. But when she shifted on her feet, her questions hung in the air, left unanswered. 
   He was gone. And she was being fed to the myths that ended everything.