[Webnovel ©Lynnifer Ice]
_____________________________
The leopard looked to be about six feet long. Its yellowish-brown coat with black spots had a warm and soft glow from the descending sun. Its eyes bore through Azariah. The leopard snarled and hissed, crouching on the branch, raising its shoulders; it was ready to pounce. Azariah stood her ground, snarling back at the beast.
"OI! YOU THERE!" Azariah tried shouting, grabbing both of the zippering sides of her leather jacket, spreading it out like wings. "HEY! RAWR! ROAR! GAHHHH!!!" She continued to yell, trying to intimidate the animal.
Why should she be lucky enough to fend off a hungry leopard? The leopard's eyes narrowed into slits as it let out a sawing roar and leaped from the tree. Azariah yelped as she dodged to the side just in time. The leopard hissed at her, crouching again to attack. Azariah readied her dagger in her hand, growling back at the large feline.
"BRING IT ON, KITTY CAT!" Azariah bellowed.
The leopard charged, landing a direct hit on Azariah as it pinned her to the ground, nearly knocking the dagger from her hand. Unable to scrunch up her shoulders to protect her neck and throat, Azariah quickly covered her neck with her non-dominant arm. The leopard dug its claws into her shoulders. Azariah cried in anguish and used her only opening to thrash her dagger directly across its nose. The feline raised its head as the sting of the cut overwhelmed it. Azariah took this chance to kick the beast in the stomach with both feet, but it was so heavy that she failed to fling it off of her.
"Fucking hell...," she grimaced, clenching her jaw as she made another swipe the opposite way with her dagger. It barely grazed the leopard's jaw. Her heart was beating in her ears, angry and scared that a leopard may be the death of her. Then, that's when she heard it...
A blood-curdling howl from the south.
"Shit," she whispered panic setting in. This was not good at all. It was too early to encounter a werewolf, or was it...?
The leopard raised its head, looking around the trees, but then peered back down at Azariah as if looking into her soul and telling her that their fight was far from over. The leopard bounced off of her and retreated into the forest, climbing back into the trees, using the branches to flee. Azariah groaned, an intense pain washing over her, but she had to move. She had to hide.
A different howl came from the east and another from the west. Had they surrounded her? She had come from the north, and the thought of getting surrounded by a pack of wolves or worse, werewolves... It was a slayer and an assassin's worst nightmare.
She forced herself up, sheathing her dagger. She crossed her arms across her chest, gripping each arm. She begged her legs to run and to run faster than she ever had before in her life. Any kind of canine would be able to outrun a human. So, she sped back north, her eyes desperately searching for an easily accessible high ground. Humans and felines could climb trees, yes. Canines, however, cannot.
She was so busy turning her head side to side, looking for a place to climb, that she failed to see the large but low-hanging branch only a few feet in front of her. Her forehead collided with the tree branch with a thunderous thud. She fell backward, first on her tailbone, before her spine hit the exposed roots on the ground. She yelped, tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. She had been in many fights and had experienced much physical pain on her assignments, but never to this degree.
The howls became less distant. The wolves were closing in, but Azariah could not get her body to move this time. Her breathing quickened, a panic attack setting in. She hated the werewolves, but she was also terrified of wolves, all because of one traumatic event as a child: witnessing the murder of her loved ones right before her eyes on Christmas day. She only survived because her brother had shoved her into the kitchen cupboard when he heard the front door burst open. The Guild Master survived because he was the only family member not attending that day.
Azariah began to see black dots in her vision. The sounds of the howling around her were slowly fading out. Just before she slipped into an unconscious state, she felt something cold wrap around her legs and begin to drag her body.
When Azariah came to, the smell of moss clung to her nose. The sound of a whistling teakettle reached her ears. Her skin felt cold and clammy and incredibly sore. Then, she heard a hiss, like the hiss of a snake. Her eyes shot open, and sure enough, she saw a naga - a snake-shapeshifter; it was currently in mid-transformation, the top half of a human male with long blonde hair and the bottom half was a snake's tail with blood-red scales. When she tried to wiggle her fingers, they moved to her surprise!
"Hello?" Azariah quietly spoke, staring at the stranger's backside. She took a quick glance around and concluded that somehow they were inside the trunk of a huge tree.
"Ah, you're awake," the naga spoke with a gentle hiss, without turning around. "I'm making a special tea. It should help repair the rest of your body. You're lucky I found you when I did, human girl."
Azariah froze. What did he just say? He could tell she was human right away even though she wore werewolf essence? How was that possible?
"Uh-... Uhm...," she stuttered, swallowing nervously, lost for words.
"You're probably wondering how I know, right? I can sense things much better than those mutts. You're probably also wondering what I meant when I said you were lucky, right?" The naga carried on as he finally turned around with a teacup in hand with a steaming and fragrant tea, "Well, those howls you and I heard were actual wolves. Wolves don't care if you have emotions; you're just food to them. If it had been werewolves, it would have been a 50/50 chance that you would have survived since they actually think about their prey before deciding to kill it." He finished before setting the teacup on a nearby table. "Now that you're awake," he continued as he slithered over to her and picked her up in his arms, "I can move you to a chair without worrying about you toppling over."
He carried Azariah over to a chair at the table and gently settled her in. Then he picked up the teacup and gently blew on it before bringing it to her lips to sip. Azariah let the lukewarm tea slide down her throat. He gave her small breaks in between each sip, and once she finished the tea, he set the teacup back down on the table, sitting across from her on a custom chair made to accommodate his tail. He leaned an elbow on the table, resting his chin in his palm, staring at her with a gentle smile.
"You have Dutchess Phoenix's eyes. You must be her daughter," the naga commented, stumping Azariah.
"You knew my mother...?" Azariah's eyes widened.
"Yes, and your father too, Duke Phoenix. We were wondering where you had disappeared to after that bloody night," his smile disappeared, replaced with a frown.
"I beg your pardon? We?" Azariah crinkled her eyebrows, perplexed.
"Yes, we. Didn't your parents ever tell you about the Mythical Council?" The naga tilted his head slightly to the side in interest.
"No, they didn't. I didn't even know my parents had nobility titles," Azariah explained, feeling at a loss. How much more was there that she didn't know?
"Hmm, and what about Grand Duke Phoenix? Is he still alive, or has he kicked the bucket?"
"Grand Duke Phoenix? Do you mean my grandfather, maybe?" Azariah asked, pulling ideas from the air around her.
"Ah, I should have been more clear. I meant your Great-Great-Uncle," the naga apologized, correcting himself.
"I don't have one with that name. I have one by the name of Lawerence Wyett, though," she cautiously answered.
"The old goat changed his name... Clever," the naga mused.
"Where exactly am I?" Azariah finally asked her potential savior.
"We are near the peak of the last mountain along this terribly long mountain range. It's the last mountain before you enter the werewolf territory. Of course, I had to bring you with me because what good could you possibly do with two torn shoulders, a broken spine, and several other fractures in your body, not to mention a concussion," the naga said vaguely yet with enough detail at the same time.
"I had broken bones? No wonder I couldn't move... Wait, how are you able to heal me?"
"You don't know?" He asked, somewhat amused, "Let me ask you this then. Do you know what I am?"
"You're a naga, right...?" Azariah tried.
"Correct. A snake-shapeshifter deity, if you will. I have the power to heal all your ailments, Princess Azariah," the naga smiled, eagerly waiting for her reaction.
Azariah felt like her brain had just shut down. What the hell was this guy talking about? A princess? No way. She stared at him as if he were from another planet. There was no way she was a princess. She was a trained and lethal assassin of the Last Dawn guild. Indeed, this naga must be mistaken.
"I think you have the wrong person, Sir. I'm not a princess," Azariah nervously laughed.
"Oh, you very much are, my dear. The crown princess, to be exact. Your mother had an affair with the previous King. One might call you an illegitimate child, but the King loved you with all his heart and soul. He had no other children, for the Queen was barren, unable to have children. When the werewolves invaded the land, the King sent you with your mother and the man you called father. You would have been three-years-old - too young to remember," the naga explained her tragic history.
"I- I don't understand...," Azariah's voice trembled.
"The King had a nephew, who is now the current King. The previous King, your biological father, died protecting you and your mother's location. We never did figure out why the werewolves were so obsessed with assassinating your family. Your mother and father did their best to hide you away from the public eye. They even went as far as to drop their nobility titles. They had a son together two years before your mother had you, and then two more sons and another daughter after you. They successfully kept you hidden for seven long years. Until the werewolves discovered your location and struck when we least expected it. You should know that the council blames themselves for your family's murder; we couldn't get there in time. By the time we reached your home, everyone had moved on to the afterlife, and you had disappeared into the night. I would call this a stroke of good fortune that I found you this evening," the naga finished.
"That's a lot to process," Azariah felt a bit dazed. "What does this all mean then?"
"It means that you still have rights to the throne even though your cousin is currently King. He also tried looking for you when we couldn't locate you. He has grey hair at the age of 35, can you believe it? I'm sure he would be overjoyed to know you're still alive, but given your current situation, it may not be the best time to tell him. In time, we'll let him know when we know the walls don't have ears. Now, I must ask, what on earth you were doing this deep in the forest? You weren't on your way to the werewolf territory, were you?"
"I... I was, actually," Azariah quietly responded, looking down at the table.
"Ah! You can move your head again," the naga beamed, getting up from his chair and slithering over to her. "Try moving your arms for me."
Azariah did just that, amazed that the pain she had felt was dulling away by the minute. She moved her arms, wrists, hands, and even her fingers. She could turn her head side to side, and minutes later, she was able to feel her lower half again. She gasped in delight as she moved her legs and wiggled her toes in her boots. She looked up at the naga with a grin that told him everything he needed to know.
"You're welcome, Princess. It was my pleasure to assist you. Now that we know you're almost fully healed, I'll pour you another cup of tea," he said with a smile. He slithered over to the stove with her teacup in hand, and in no time, brought back a fresh cup of tea. "Drink up. While you're at it, you can explain to me what business you have in the werewolf territory," he commented before sitting back down in his custom chair.
"Well," Azariah began as she took a sip of the tea, "I don't know if you're aware, but I am a trained assassin. My Great-Great-Uncle taught me everything I know. He's my guild's, Guild Master. We received an urgent request from Pinewood city. The werewolves have been taking more and more people in the night, and none have returned. I have been given the assignment to assassinate the strongest Alpha in the land - Alpha Arcadio Hrodwulf. I swore to complete my mission or die trying."
"On second thought, Princess. Perhaps, it would be better if your bones didn't heal. Those mutts are still looking for you. What will you do if they discover your identity? I cannot allow you to leave, especially when we still don't know their intentions," the naga hissed, rising up from his chair.
- End of Chapter Six -