Shouts resonated through the market, a symphony of fresh produce and sales echoing through the air. Sparrow Peak, a quaint village on the outskirts of Evrax, was a lively hub where Fae, shifters, and humans coexisted centuries after the war and cultivation. While smaller than many settlements, it thrived, especially with humans who found it a more common residence than other continents.
Lyra navigated the bustling streets with her items in tow, weaving through a diverse crowd engaged in gossip and commerce. As she moved, she caught wind of troubling news about neighboring villages being pillaged, with Horkshire being the latest victim.
"Horkshire? I heard Tallonstone village was pillaged recently, and that is the nearest to Sparrow Peak," mentioned a woman, concern etched across her face as she held her child closely.
"That's terrible!" exclaimed another man.
"What are we going to do? Has the village council sent word to the capital?" queried an elderly man.
"Those barbarians. I reckon we gather our forces and fight back!" suggested the orange-feline man.
"Are you daft?! You and what army? The sentinels are stationed here for that very reason, to protect our village and grain to provide for the territory of Eden," scolded the elderly man, displeased with the unnecessary panic.
"The sentinels? You mean the lazy bums that trample over us, useless feathered bird for brains," complained the orange feline, his disgust evident.
Lyra, typically uninterested in gossip, was concerned about the danger encroaching upon their home. As she pondered the motives behind these attacks on small villages, she was jolted from her thoughts as she was forcefully shoved to the side of the stalls.
Two guards approached the group, wide-eyed and hushed, attempting to disperse.
"I couldn't help but hear you across the street of the lies spewing about us," one of the sentinels sneered, towering over the humanoid feline, his gauntlet resting over the handle of his sword in its sheath. The poor feline lad tried to form a brave front, but his tail curled between his legs, breaking the false bravado.
"Mind saying it to my face?" he snickered with his comrade. "What cat caught your tongue?" mocking the inferior creature.
Before the shivering cat man could form a reply to the daunting man, Lyra stepped in between the two. Despite their considerable height difference, she squared her shoulders with the guard who had shoved her; her expression was fearless.
Lyra was bold, but her size was like a mouse facing a lion. The very man was at fault for pushing her to the side, potentially causing bruising to her thigh later. She refused to condone such behavior, not if she could help it.
"Indulging into your insecurities is only proving the people's suspicions. Why bully the helpless when it is your oath to protect," Lyra declared, locking her gaze on the man before her. He frowned at the notion with his lips pressed into a thin line.
"Stay out of our business if it doesn't concern you, woman," the man scoffed at her. "If you know what's good for you, I'll be happy to oblige to give my attention later," he leered, his gaze peering down to the loose opening above her cleavage. She reddened in disgust, her jaw clenched tightly, but kept the bile from rising to her throat.
Lyra noticed a crowd forming around them as murmurs filtered through. She remarked, "You know villages nearby have been reduced to rubble, and yet, here you stand before me demanding respect and decorum. Considering the detail in your stance and armor, it's hard to believe the experience you boast. I doubt your blade has even been unsheathed and lacks performance altogether." Peeking below his waist, inviting the onlookers to relate the gesture she mentioned before matching his glare, his comrade covered his mouth with a muffled cough, masking a chuckle under his breath.
At that moment, Lyra was beginning to regret the insults she had thrown at the guard. Being headstrong, she cast her logic to the wind—the man before her reddened with anger.
In the blink of an eye, his hand closed tightly around her neck, cutting off her air. Lyra gasped, her fingers clawing desperately at his arms in defiance. Her vision blurred, and her cheeks tinged a deep shade. Being stubborn as she is, her unwavering gaze never left his despite the lack of air and close to losing consciousness.
"How dare you!" he roared. He was keeping her in place while his right hand rose to slap her cheek. Before he could make contact with her delicate skin, his whole vision spun, and he found himself on the muddy floor, suddenly pinned with a long, slender leg clasped around his neck and his left arm locked between warm thighs.
He was baffled by the predicament he was in. He couldn't fathom who would dare interfere with his interrogation. He looked around at who dared to interfere.
The guard's eyes widened in disbelief as he realized that seemingly meek and demure woman had effortlessly brought him to his knees– between her knees, to be exact.
"Do you yield?" Lyra spoke, tightening her hold as her body snaked around his arm and her leg clamped around his neck. His armor made it awkward for movement, but she was agile enough to slip through.
Despite her small stature, her grandfather trained her in self-defense in all safety matters. However, her grandfather would lose his temper if he found out she was the cause of the scuffle. It would lower her reputation for any prospects; she couldn't think now. Though she could never join the army as a soldier due to her over-protective brute of a grandfather, she could at least give a lesson or two to the overgrown birds some manners.
The man glared and fought to break free, his movements growing increasingly desperate due to the lack of air. Black dots started to sprinkle across his vision. Distressed, his eyes link to his comrade for help.
The other guard was stunned. His comrade was made prone by a mere woman, half his size, in a matter of seconds. Who was this woman? He wondered.
As the other guard stepped in to assist his comrade, the situation escalated in seconds. The crowd around them began hollering at him.
"Two against a lone female is cowardice!" protested a woman.
"You should be ashamed of yourselves!" chided an elderly man.
"The real danger is out there while you draw your swords on the innocent." Shouted another villager.
"Wait till the council hears of this!" scolded a concerned citizen.
"You people are the real monsters here! Terrorizing us!" yelled someone from the crowd.
The crowd grew restless. Lyra steeled her resolve, looking back at her opponent. "Do you yield? I want to hear it loud for the people to hear," She declared, peering back at the orange feline man above her. "You will also apologize to everyone here and respect every female you come across," she added, pushing her limit. The angel's face began to purple in frustration and with no oxygen. The man was too stubborn to admit defeat.
"WHAT ON EDEN'S GRACE IS GOING ON HERE!?" a familiar gruff voice roared amongst the crowd. The villagers broke apart, allowing a towering figure to step in, standing a foot away from Lyra and the man on the ground.
'Shit.' Lyra grimaced. Conrad narrows his eyes, his brows brought together in a deep frown.
Lyra reluctantly releases the man. Exasperated and embarrassed, the guard swiftly stood up. He coughed and tried to catch his breath, massaging his neck while glaring daggers at the woman as she slowly stood. He turned to face the man next to him and could recognize who he was already. He smirked as his mind worked on weaving a case that would land the female in jail. "Commander Conrad," he voiced with a fist salute over his chest.
"We were making our rounds around the town, and this woman here was causing trouble," the angel declared. His partner remained silent. Lyra shot a skeptical look at the man; who would've thought angels could lie through their teeth?
"Says the man who couldn't take insults and got his feathers ruffled," Lyra mocked under her breath. She sensed her grandfather's burning glare. Lyra reluctantly lowered her eyes to the ground, dusting some dirt off her sleeves.
"To uphold the peace here in this village, I'll happily arrest this woman and bring her to council for proper judgment," the arrogant guard announced. Conrad snapped his eyes back to his subordinate. Conrad's demeanor seemed to grow colder the more prolonged this dispute continued.
"You assaulted first! I defended myself." Lyra argued, crossing her arms over her chest. "The people saw you making a complete fool out of yourself, and I found it necessary to—"
"Commander, clearly, this woman speaks nonsense and doesn't know to shut her mouth when men are talking," he scoffed.
"It seems your brain lacks enough oxygen. Allow me to assist you further," Lyra taunted. She stepped further as her blood boiled over the man's idiocy.
"You—!"
"Enough!" Conrad intervened. "Both of you return to your posts." He ordered the men, his expression cold as he narrowed his eyes at the two guards. They nodded reluctantly, glaring at Lyra one last time before leaving.
"Lyra," Conrad sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. The villagers dispersed and returned to their business now that the show was over.
"Grandfather, you weren't here. The people here are concerned about—" Lyra began, only for Conrad to cut her off again.
"Assaulting a soldier, is punishable by fifty lashes on the post. Have you no semblance of understanding the gravity you almost brought upon yourself?" Conrad asked rhetorically. Glaring at the mess his granddaughter almost succumbed to. "I was on my way to see Oliver and his family about my proposition only to come across the commotion you caused and in front of the Danish family's establishment no less," he reprimanded, every word cutting into her being as she bowed solemnly.
Glancing to her right across from her, she saw the bulky man with leather padding on his forearms and dusty blonde hair, with chestnut eyes meeting her gaze before he refutes his gaze in embarrassment. 'Oliver,' Lyra thought. She didn't realize the surrounding she found herself in was in fact the place she honestly wanted to avoid making a fool of herself. Oliver was quiet and gentle, despite his robust size. They never spoke much to one another except for errands and purchase; Now, he wouldn't glance her way. No one wants to indulge with someone who was wild and unrefined like her. It stung her pride a little.
Lyra was only defending herself—defending an innocent person. Her judgement called forth unknown courage of righting the wrong in her village. Frustration brewed as she met the same growing anger back at her grandfather.
"You know what those men did is wrong, bullying the weak to only fuel their selfish gain. The youth of your time would've dragged their faces through the dirt for insolence!" Lyra lashed at Conrad. "The pressing matter is the safety of the village," she added to prove her defense.
Conrad was silent for a moment before exhaling a breath, releasing tension in his nerves, "You are correct in that matter," he spoke with resignation.
"However, that was not your job or in any case your business to trifle over such matters," he said with finality.
"But—"
"Lyra, enough! Go home," Conrad exclaimed. His expression twisted in a mix of frustration and disappointment. Lyra flinched at his shout, and her eyes dropped to the ground, leaving the market in disgrace. Conrad remained in his spot as she took her leave.
Lyra seethed in anger, feeling betrayed by the unfolding events. She walked past the onlookers who witnessed the entire spectacle. She could already imagine the rumors spreading about her unladylike behavior and unruly temper. She scoffed at the thought; she didn't care anymore.
Despite all Lyra had done for the people and standing up for them, the least they could have done was voice their concerns to the grumpy old man, her grandfather. After the adrenaline left her body, shame bloomed in her heart. self-conscious of her actions and questioned what came over her.
"Hey, miss! Lassie!" a voice called out behind. Brought out from her turmoiled thoughts she peered back.
"It's not Lassie," Lyra muttered, annoyed of the nickname. It was the orange humanoid feline man from the market earlier. He was relatively short compared to an average man's height. Dark brown stripes contrasted with his orange fur curving from the top of his scalp down to his back. He was covered in fur and shirtless, wearing a pair of trousers for decency. Holding out her belongings that she thoughtlessly left behind, he spoke,
"I just wanted to thank you for what you did there." He handed off her weapon and sack before extending his thumb over his shoulder. His eyes shone with admiration.
Surprised by the gratitude, brought a small smile, and acknowledged him with a nod. Guess there are some rewards in a good deed.
"You're welcome, though I fear it never resolved the matter with the raids and only made matters worse," Lyra said, grateful that the man was unharmed.
"You were amazing back there! That bird brain stood no chance against you. I'm Tobias, by the way," Tobias stretched his hand out.
"Lyra," she extended her hand, clasping for a brief handshake. "I strongly advise to refrain from offending anyone for the time being," Lyra warned Tobias, her expression serious but her voice light. She had enough trouble for one day and did not want to add more on her plate.
"You're right about that miss. The people here are tense with the raids happening nearby, and the knights, let alone the main capital, aren't doing anything about it," Tobias complained. True, two villages were destroyed, and there's been no word from the capital on the matter.
"Do you know who is behind these raids, Tobias?" Lyra questioned; curiosity got the best of her. The village consisted of mixed races, coexisting in harmony. Her brows drew together in a pensive expression.
Evrax was under the grand peace treaty unifying the other three continents with equal power. One species above all, with divine power, can cast judgement and maintain order—the celestials. Despite the hierarchy, the celestials considered to remain neutral in all affairs of the realm, only to intervene if it deems dire. The lives of the people and homes reduced to ash and rubble, is that not dire circumstances? Is the Alpha of Evrax overrun by the turmoil on his land?
Tobias pondered momentarily, his whisker brows scrunched, forming a frown, and answered grimly, "Demons." Lyra frowns at him. Demons? No one has seen their kind in years. Her grandfather shared a few encounters with them, but they were few. That only confused Lyra more.
"That can't be possible. That's a strong accusation for creatures that haven't been seen in years," Lyra remarked. Her mind denied the possibility, while her gut leaned toward believing in his words. The only factor that remains is why? What could bring about a force to destroy small towns in a single night. The scale of the forces pillaging in one night would be massive. She felt goosebumps crawl up her arms as the wind bellowed the trees, creaking as a foreboding omen.
"Those are the rumors I hear from the people. I can't know if any of it is true, but my instinct tells me something big is coming. You should be careful returning home." Tobias warned; his gaze was firm. He would bet one of his nine lives on the notion that trouble was brewing in Sparrow Peak. "My instincts are usually on point, and I don't want to stay around if Sparrow Peak is next," He spoke in haste as he strapped his satchel over is back tightly.
"Stay sharp and I hope we meet again," Tobias in finality before sprinting away on all fours, not waiting to hear a farewell from Lyra. She merely waved slightly at his retreating figure as he sprinted towards the end of the village leading to the vast forest.