Untitled Fantasy Chapter two

Continuation of Bryn's story. This time we slow down and get a glimpse of other characters.

Chapter Two

“Good Goddess!” Akiya exclaimed when Bryn arrived.
 
Akiya, Bryn and a few others had made a small base camp in the far north of the mountains. Two light brown tents that fit up to five people and one green tent that held eight dotted a mostly barren desert area. A few green bushes and trees surrounded the green tent. From the air, the tents would blend in.

Akiya tucked a stray locke of cotton candy colored hair behind one pointed ear and then stood there and wrung her caramel hands. “I told you this was a bad idea, Princess.” The laugh lines around her diamond like eyes turned into worry creases as she chewed her full lower lip.

Akiya was still the only one Bryn allowed to call her Princess.  To the rest she was simply Bryn.

“I know.” Bryn’s voice waivered as she dismounted.

Although Akiya had just a few years on Bryn, her voice came from an ancient world. “Come here and let me see you better.” She opened her arms in her silvery tunic and took a step forward in her black boots.

Bryn shuffled toward Akiya with her head lowered. I hate disappointing her.

The healer wrinkled her noise at the stench, but didn’t comment on it as she took Bryn’s left arm in her deft hands and looked at the wound. She sucked air through her teeth a few times and Bryn knew the damage was great. Akiya usually could keep comments to herself.

“That bad, huh?”

“Some of the worst you’ve had, Princess.”

“Fantastic.”

Akiya squinted at Bryn for a second before returning her attention to the wound.

Bryn shut up.

“I need you to wash up to really assess the damage.” She poked at the gaping toward her wrist, eliciting a strangled cry from Bryn.  Blood welled up again. “Off you go, Princess.”

Bryn covered her left forearm with her free hand and meandered along the path behind Akiya to the shallow stream behind the enormous granite boulder.

She passed Phelan with his wild buttercup yellow curls and one stormy gray eye (the other he lost in a fight and covered with a simple black patch) as he sharpened some arrows. His black tunic's seams threatened to burst when he moved from all his muscle. He didn’t glance up from his work, but grunted an acknowledgment.

Across from him – working on some kind of stew—the portly Quinlin sat in a blue tunic. Upon seeing Bryn, he rubbed his bald head, crinkled his jolly blue eyes into a smile, and waived.

Bryn waived back.

As Bryn walked away, Akiya tied up Thak next to her own blue Ombre colored horse named Thannos and ducked into the green tent.

Bryn tried to keep from leaving droplets as she reached the stream. She kneeled down at the edge of the water and gingerly put her arm in. The cool water felt surprisingly refreshing. Bryn grinned to herself and then noticed her face in the water. Black streaks and splatters crossed most of her pale face and ran down her arms. Her eyes looked back at her in a haunting stare. “No wonder Akiya looked worried.” Once the bleeding slowed, she stripped out of her sticky tunic and unzipped her boots. A fresh olive green tunic had been laid out for her. She set aside her weapons and glanced around. Coast clear.

Bryn slipped into the cool water that went to her waist and started washing up. Her body, though long and lean with ample breasts and small hips, was littered with battle scars. They crisscrossed her back, her stomach, her shoulders and her chest. In the two years since she’d been on the run, Bryn’s blemish free skin became the story of her journey.

She undid her braid and untangled her white lockes with her fingers the best she could after washing them.

Bryn took a moment to revel in the warmth of the sun and just to be alive.

A snapping noise startled Bryn and she turned to the shore.

She heard a muttered curse from a male voice and ducked into the water with just her head out. “Who’s there?” Bryn braved calling out. My weapons are on shore, dammit.

Fineas stepped out from behind the boulder with his dark cheeks somehow enflamed and his hands held up. “Uh, just me, Princess…I mean Bryn.” Fineas stood at 6’4 with hip length deep black hair he kept in a tight braid and tilted brown eyes that he lined with kohl like his Egyptian ancestors use to. A black tunic cinched at his small waist. “Uh, sorry.” He covered his eyes. Fineas was great with a broad sword or a plasma gun, a bow and arrow or an energy spell, great to keep your back in a fight, but not so great with the female species.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Fin?”

“N-nothing.” He winced. “I mean-um.” Fineas paused.

“Well?”

He cleared his throat and tried again. “Akiya was worried you were taking too long, so she sent me.”

“Tell her I’ll be out in a moment,” Bryn yelled. “As soon as I get dressed.”

Fineas fell all over himself trying to back up and leave. “Yes, Princess… I mean Bryn!”

Bryn chuckled to herself and made her way to shore.