Page 17 of When Death Called Life Home (When Deities Awaken #1)

Chapter 17

The Commander’s Guardian

ALORA

O nly the jaguar remained when Alora woke at first light. The golden-eyed puma no longer sat on the opposite side of the stumps entrance. No paw prints marred the dew coated ground surrounding Alora’s hiding spot, and more than a tiny part of her wondered whether she’d dreamed of the confrontation between the three creatures the night before. A way for her mind to assure itself that she was safe in this land that felt like home. If it weren’t for the other feline now sound asleep where she’d seen it lay the night before, she might have believed it to be just that, a dream.

In the light, with its body stretched out on its side, Alora saw that he was a male. His eyes flicked open under her stare, revealing that emerald gaze and narrow pupils that widened at her attention. He stood, his head stopping short of her chest, and stared straight up at her.

This creature had protected her, and then stayed after even the puma left. He’d spoken to her, centred her and drew her out of her spiralling thoughts. Alora tilted her head as she studied him. The feline copied the movement.

Last night, Alora realised how much of a false sense of security this forest gave her. The flora and fauna tricked her into believing it was anything like the garden on Earth. Kallias tried to warn her. He’d emphasised how dangerous it was, especially at night. Now, Alora noticed the little details that strengthened his warnings. Bumblebees that weren’t bumblebees. Their furry bodies were replaced with something akin to wool, with wings almost as large as butterflies. The butterflies were another thing, constantly clinging to her like friction made hair to her fingers. All those times she’d disappear into her daydreams were memories fighting their way to return.

She wasn’t dead. The headstone her stranger brought her to, showed her, people thought her to be dead. Potentially why she was able to remain on Earth without anyone coming looking for her for three whole years.

Until Kallias did.

How had he known where to look? Why didn’t he give up and think her dead unless he knew for certain she wasn’t?

Alora wiped her hands over her face, her brain hurting from the many questions that assaulted it. Her nose scrunched as the saltiness of sweat filled her nostrils. She needed to wash. Needed to find a river to sink under and wash away the grime from the past couple of days. She unfortunately didn’t have any soap on her, but surely water would be enough for the time being to ease the heavy sensation. She would return to the field with her headstone once she rid herself of the physical heaviness and prepared herself for the weight of the knowledge that someone cared enough to make a grave for her.

With a glance at the jaguar and finding him still staring, Alora adjusted her clothing and made her way through the trees. A worn path led her towards a rocky cliff she could just make out in the distance. Water trickled down that rocky cliff, catching in the sunlight and creating mini rainbows. Beautiful, clear water. Only when she reached it did Alora hear a quiet rushing sound. She glanced around quickly before she leaned forward and dipped her tongue beneath one of the larger flowing veins. A groan left her at the cold freshness that bit into her cheeks. Fresh water.

Alora trailed her fingertips along the cliff as she walked towards the sound of the rushing river, hope filling every inch of her until she thought it would crack her face in half. There, in the beauty of the sun, sparkling like a fallen star, was a massive waterfall that slowed into a wide and semi-deep river. Alora didn’t think twice before removing her clothes and sinking into it.

The sharp cold of the water drenched her foggy mind, clearing it of all her previous thoughts. She dunked her head below the surface and opened her mouth, swallowing mouthfuls of the delectable liquid. Her first drink of clean, fresh water since she’d arrived and it tasted better than all the glasses she’d had on Earth. No chemical taint throwing off her taste buds. A filter of tree leaves and moss provided every living thing here with safe water to drink. Nothing made more sense than that.

Alora drank her fill then ever so quickly washed away all the grime layering atop her skin, scrubbing at herself until the river acted as more of an ice pack than a bath to her raw body. She didn’t care, if anything she welcomed the pain that provided her with another form of distraction. Another way to bring the focus of her mind away from Kallias’ words.

You were born here.

Her heart raced in her chest.

Who were her parents?

Did she have siblings?

Was she Vitarce, or Reaper?

What argument drove her running to Earth? Had it been her choice?

With a curse spilling from her lips, Alora sank beneath the water again, closing her eyes and holding her breath until the pain spread to her lungs. She couldn’t escape them. The questions and the thoughts. Each time the pain pushed them away they only came back and demanded more the next time. Alora needed something constant. Another source of chatter, like the record players and musicians barely pausing between songs. She always stopped thinking when listening to music. At least about reality. When music flowed into her ears, Alora let herself drift away to her own little world, to the place she hadn’t known to be Elysia.

Her head broke the surface and she drew in a large breath to which her lungs screamed at her in relief. Fresh eyes took in the forest. The jaguar who’d followed her all the way here stood guard over her clothes, loud songs from birds who sat high in the trees, rabbits with small prongs poking out of their heads who didn’t seem to care that a predator sat so close by. A small smile graced her lips.

Yes, Elysia was the place she’d imagined in her head all those times she wished for an escape. It had been the thing calling to her, begging her to return home. With all its dangers, Alora could not ignore the beauty of it. Of course she’d wish for the safety of the Lexington Gardens, but it wasn’t worth the life she’d have there compared to the one she imagined having here.

She wondered if Emilia and Rosalie would ever find the things they dreamed of, and her smile fell away. Alora dragged herself back to the edge of the river and climbed out, twisting the ends of her hair to rid it of the excess water. She paused upon glancing at her clothing, finding not just them there, but what she could only assume to be a large towel. Soft and an off-white colour, it reminded Alora of cotton. She slowly picked it up and wrapped it around herself as she surveyed the area again with a frown. Absolutely nothing to be seen in regards to who, or what, gave her the towel, only the jaguar who’d shifted to surveying the area rather than watching her now that she no longer swam in the river.

Alora dried herself quickly and pulled on the lightweight clothing, then as she turned in the direction she planned to go, a satchel made from thin leather flopped onto its side in front of her. She could not stop the giggle before it left her mouth. The satchel shifted, wiggling with movement from beneath it. Alora cautiously lifted the bag but not before a tiny humanoid-looking thing popped out.

“Hello.”

At her voice, its face turned with a look of sheer horror. Its entire body appeared to be made of tree bark, with a sheet of moss covering its little head. Its eyes like rich, golden maple syrup.

“Was it you who left these for me?” Alora lowered her voice and offered the being a small, gentle smile. It appeared to ease the thing’s nerves, for its face shifted to a more neutral expression, then it gave the tiniest nod. “Well, thank you. I greatly appreciate your generosity.”

That, apparently, was the perfect thing to say because the little creature beamed up at her and gave a bow.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Alora murmured, still holding her smile. “What exactly are you?”

It stared at her with what could be considered a dumbfounded expression. Hard to truly decipher with how small it was. It could quite comfortably sit within Alora’s hand if it wanted; even laying down, the risk of falling out was minimal.

“You cannot verbally speak, can you?”

It shook its head. Alora sighed and scratched her head before tucking strands of her wet hair behind her ear.

“You know the forest well?”

This time it gave her a nod.

“Would you like to accompany me in finding a specific field? Perhaps prevent me from getting lost?”

It paused, then slowly nodded its head. Alora crouched and held out her free hand. It climbed on, leaving behind a heated spot wherever its feet touched. Alora dropped the strap of the satchel over her shoulder and put the towel — rolled up — inside. The little creature she lifted to her other shoulder.

“It is a field of dark flowers with a stone that has words carved into it,” Alora informed it. From the corner of her eye she saw it pause for the briefest of moments before it pointed out the way to go and Alora promptly started walking. The soft thuds of paws followed close behind.

The little creature fell fast asleep clinging to strands of her hair after what Alora assumed to be twenty minutes. Its little snores lifted and floated passed her ears, interrupted occasionally by a small gasp like noise.

Alora paused her determined pace while it slept, using the time to fill her new satchel with berries and fruit she’d learnt were safe to eat from her time with Kallias. She’d moved onto scavenging through fallen apples when the jaguar launched into one of the trees. His large claws sunk into the trunk and he climbed higher onto one of the branches with plenty of fresh, ripe apples. Each carefully placed step shook the branches and released a couple at a time that Alora caught and slipped into her bag.

Bushes, not harbouring berries, rustled from the side she’d entered through, drawing her attention away from the falling fruit. Alora froze in her spot and stared, waiting. They shook again before parting right down the middle and revealing the enormous puma with beautiful colouring. A pattern Alora didn’t think she’d ever grow used to.

The feline’s slanted eyes surveyed the small space until they landed on Alora and her tail lifted, curling at the tip. She blinked slowly at Alora and lowered her head as she made her way over. As she grew closer, red speckled over her coat.

Her large head pushed into Alora, followed by her body. Alora’s hands splayed out in an effort to find balance and not fall over, and the puma only took that as more surface to rub on.

“Where did you disappear off to?” Alora murmured, giving the feline what she wanted and scratching beneath her chin. The feline looked up at her and blinked slowly again, stretching its neck, its nose twitching. Alora leaned down, bringing her face inches away from the large, sharp teeth. The feline bounced off her front paws and pressed her nose into Alora’s face, leaving a cold, wet trail from her nose to the outside edge of her cheek. She then repeated the action on the other side.

A laugh, more manic than anything, bubbled out of Alora. The sound of it drew the jaguar down from the apple tree, landing with a heavy thud. Alora’s entire body relaxed as her hands ran over the puma’s head and down her back, until she realised the red on the feline's body wiped onto her own hands and it felt a lot like blood. The puma circled around her, tail curving to ensure full body contact. Just like a large house cat.

The puma’s head lifted, ears pricked forward to a sound Alora couldn’t hear. She looked back at Alora, providing a final smooch of her face to Alora’s thigh and buttocks before she stepped forward and her tail dropped in line with her spine. It wasn’t long before the jaguar copied the puma’s actions, his tail curling around Alora’s legs protectively.

Alora followed their line of vision, squinting to try and see anything, but it was useless. It wasn’t until a gentle tap repeated on her neck that she realised the tiny creature on her shoulder had woken and wished for her attention.

“Good sleep?” Alora asked, receiving a timid nod in the corner of her eye, noticing its attention on the puma. “It’s not a friend to your species?”

The second question had the creature pausing, a look of concentration on its face like it might have been trying to figure out how to explain the two’s normal dynamic. It didn’t get the chance .

“While Guardians leave Forest Spirits alone most of the time, there’s always a chance their Elysian doesn’t have the best of intentions.”

Alora’s head jerked up in the direction the two felines stared, a yank of her hair letting her know the little creature on her shoulder had grabbed on for dear life. Before them stood an immensely colourful Nymph, or what Alora assumed to be a Nymph. Their hair was a curly mess of turquoise, indigo and jade. Their skin was a pastel shade of teal, and their clothing had to have originated from too many types of vibrant flowers for Alora to name on one hand. The top was strapless, though, and tucked into a flowy skirt by a belt made of what she recognised as a type of woven flax-like material. Whoever they were, they reminded Alora of a peacock and a butterfly combined.

“The thing on your shoulder,” the nymph stated, motioning to the creature. “Is a Forest Spirit. You’re very fortunate to have seen one, let alone be a bed for it.”

Alora’s lips parted. Instead of saying anything, though, she sucked in a breath. This caused a smile to blossom on the nymph. A beautiful, dazzling smile. One that likely stopped their enemies in their tracks .

“Who are you?” Alora finally got out after clearing her throat.

The nymph sunk into a deep bow. “My friends call me Tauriel.”

Alora repeated the name beneath her breath, feeling the way the vowels rolled over her tongue. She then looked at Tauriel with a tilted head. “What do your enemies call you?”

“Intelligent,” Tauriel replied with a chuckle and bright eyes. They moved closer, though cautious in their approach and watched every subtle motion that Alora, as well as the two predators beside her, made. “Good. And, most don’t get a chance to call me anything. The ones that do, well I daren’t say in front of a Life deity.”

Alora frowned but the nymph’s smile didn’t drop, if anything, it widened. No negativity filled the air between them, but Alora found her stomach unsettled at Tauriel’s presence.

“Did you want something from me?” Alora asked after a minute of silence.

“Pardon?” Tauriel replied, pausing in their slow movement forward.

“Well I doubt you approached me just to tell me that this little creature is a forest spirit.” Alora offered the small being a smile as it disappeared beneath her hair. Its tiny hands gripped blonde strands tightly enough to cause discomfort.

The nymph clasped their hands together in front of them and licked their lips. “Oh, yes. The guardian.”

“That mountain lion, puma,” Tauriel clarified. “It’s the Commander's Guardian. I’m surprised it’s strayed so far from him, actually.”

“You will have to elaborate, Tauriel, I’m somewhat new to the forest.”

The nymph sent her a look that said enough about what they knew of her and Elysia. A look that Alora shoved from her mind as she crossed her arms. Even the jaguar at her side let out a low snarl in warning. Tauriel’s gaze dropped to him for a split second before returning to Alora.

“Reaper – you know what Reapers are?” Tauriel asked with heavy sarcasm lacing the words. When Alora nodded, the nymph continued. “Reapers have guardians. Well, any Elysian can, but we don’t see many Vitarce with them. Anyway, they’re predator animals that bond strongly with Reapers and help them with basically every aspect of their life, including their mental stability.”

Alora narrowed her gaze at the tone of their voice, her hand dropping to rest atop the jaguar’s back. “Why do you say it like that?”

Tauriel paused and took her in, surprise lighting their eyes.

“What?” Alora asked.

Tauriel shook their head. “Nothing, just — to answer your question, it’s simply hard to believe Reapers need a guardian for their mental side of things when they appear to enjoy the work they do.”

Alora sucked on the inside of her cheek before running her tongue over her teeth and shrugging. “Yes, well, some people are great at hiding their struggles.”

Tauriel started, eyes widened in what could only be disbelief. “Are you defending them?”

“I’m not judging them,” she replied.

It apparently wasn’t the correct thing, for the nymph spun and stalked towards the edge of the grove, muttering profanities in what Alora suspected to be Latin. Their hair swayed behind them, catching shards of afternoon sun and glimmering vibrantly.

“At least take my warning that if you see one, don’t try and have a cup of tea with them. Especially if he has a bear guardian.”

The brute who’d tortured Xylia.

No, Alora wouldn’t be having a cup of tea with that one. He deserved something far more pleasant, like a brick to the face, or four claws slicing through his skin. She glanced at the blood staining her skin from the puma then shoved it in front of the puma’s face.

“Show me.”