Chapter 4
So, this is it. This is how it’s meant to be. Crushed to death by some infernal devil.
Griselda tried biting her sobs back as the scaled creature thrust itself against her and the boulder, squeezing air again from her winded lungs while her ribs cried in agony.
She didn’t know what was happening. Why it was acting like she stole the necklace from some lavish lair and why it was so intent on trying to make her meek death so damned personal?
Its not like she wasn’t warned of the bad things that would happen if she stayed out after dark. Even still, this was beyond what her imagination thought would happen to some poor villager left out due to the guards decisions. How many people had they knowingly killed?
How many people did this devil in front of her slaughter with its own hands?
The fact it could speak and had enough sentience to feel emotion shocked her.
Everyone thought the creatures and differing species that sprawled throughout the decades old tales were bloodthirsty beasts.
For some reason, it also eased her. If they could communicate then maybe she could talk it down from whatever motive it had.
“Griselda.” Tongue poking around her lips, she tried to calm herself.
Her village had whispers about these strange lizard men and how they stole stragglers to devour for their own festivities across the ages.
Her thoughts bounced around, unsure what to think of this creature and if fear was the truly the best emotion.
There was a chance this was one of the secret races her village traded with and the stories were purely for facilitating fear to keep them away. “My name is Griselda.”
A low vibration sounded around her body as claws scratched at the rocky surface.
She could only assume with how gruff and deep its voice had sounded that it was male.
He moved a hand toward her face and grabbed it briefly, tilting her to look up at him.
Something fluttered through her core at the strangely simple gesture.
“Griselda,” she could tell he didn’t purposely intend to drag the ‘S’ sound out on her name. He pierced her with his intense gaze and caught her in some type of trance. “We need to move away from here. I’m going to put you on my back. You must hold on. Understood?”
He didn’t wait for her to respond. As soon as his words ceased, she was picked up and thrown on his back with her arms clenching around his thick neck.
Odd noises resonated above them and curiosity got the better of her.
A fluid mixture of her staring skyward and him grabbing her face over his shoulder to hide her from the horrors that erupted in her vision made her spine freeze.
“Don’t. It is not for us.” His voice grazed with frustration as they lunged forward, churning up dirt as they scaled the ravine. His claws dug into the soil and ripped apart undergrowth in his desperate speed.
Her vision flitted with spurts of the bloody shadow she witnessed.
Burying her face into the back of his neck, she noted the soft slickness of his scales and…
spines? The oolong scent filled her senses again.
Adrenaline surged through her as otherworldly shrieks echoed above them, shattering the almost blissful moment.
Her mind kept trying to rationalize what it was she saw. A necrotic dragon? A withering phoenix? If this snake-man was real, who knows what else out there could be real.
Or if the Strangle had cursed living creatures as well as the vegetative life.
The world spun past as he slithered up over the edge of the ravine and tumbled through the woods.
Their speed shocked random wildlife and caused a further uproar as small mice darted into burrows and frantic foxes hustled into undergrowth.
The light from the moon blipped with the shadow circling overhead, surely looking for larger prey like them.
A high pitched screech curdled her blood and made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Griselda tried to focus her eyes on the snake-man, giving her something aside from the looming danger to focus on.
From one danger to another.
She almost chuckled to herself.
Though, she noted this being was more naga than snake due to his arms and strange draconian face.
A race her village had thought long dead, but also harbored stories of to keep the children out of the woods.
He had flexible blue spines that peppered from the top of his head down between his shoulder blades.
There were more than she could count in this moment, but something else caught her attention.
For a snake… naga, he sure had some broad and muscular shoulders.
Ones that outdid even the strongest men in her village.
How often did he train to achieve such a physique?
As though he knew she was gazing over his body, his arms reached up to grab a tree limb and thrust them over a smaller ravine.
Her body sang as they went weightless. Chills spread along her arms and legs, her core clenching at the sight of his scaled muscles straining.
Biting her lip, she slammed her eyes shut and scrutinized herself.
He’s a monstrosity. A snake. A devil! The very thing your people die from. The very thing you almost died from!
Her eyes opened just in time for his large forked tongue to slide out and taste the air as their pace paused.
She swore his mouth fell open into a sneer.
Surely he couldn’t scent her emotions. But if he had attributes of a snake, could he tell something fluttered within her?
Were naga able to do more than snakes? Griselda’s eyebrows raised as she held her breath for a moment.
The pause caused all her injuries to cry in the momentary relax. Her ankle was still swollen, though not as bruised as it seemed it would become. And, gods, did her ribs hurt from that vice grip caused by his tail earlier.
Thick… muscular tail.
Worry pricked her gut as she reconsidered her situation and chastised the thought.
This naga could easily be taking her back to his cave to devour her for his late night snack.
He could be taking her to a place none would ever find her!
Or what if he took her back to his tribe and they used her as an offering to some other creature they might worship.
She recalled stories of older species worshiping dragons in offer of their protection, giving them creatures for profit and fruit for decadence.
Her eyes jolted wide, something sparking to the front of her mind.
Fruit.
The fruit.
Her basket.
“No!” She slammed her palms to her eyes as they threatened to brim with tears. Visions of the fruit tumbling through the air played over and over. “Damnit!”
The scales beneath her body puffed, slightly pressing into her skin. Looking over his shoulder, the naga squinted his eyes at her outburst. Griselda’s own shoulders slumped and she buried into herself.
“What is wrong? Are you hurt… more?” Knowing the extent of most of her injuries, he meant well asking the question.
“Hurt? I will be!” Hiccuping between words, Griselda wiped her lashes and rubbed her tunic against her face, causing slight red splotches to pop across her upper cheeks.
“Why cry?” He seemed unsure of how to proceed. Tension remained consistent in his scales under her legs as his head swiveled around to scan the trees overhead.
“I lost the fruit! Completely, utterly, totally, lost it.” She tried to keep from wailing, knowing it would only attract further unwanted creatures.
Or worse, help the creature circling above key in on their location.
An exhausted sigh escaped the naga as his scales relaxed.
“You don’t understand. How could you? Your life doesn’t depend on that fruit.” Anger fueled her veins as his sigh directly irritated a nerve.
“Listen.” Somehow, he rolled around onto his back and kept her fluidly in the same spot, balancing her on what would be his hips, hands grabbing the sides of her arms. The moon blanked out again as his scales shined briefly. “We find another tomorrow. Now? We must hide and not make such noise.”
Griselda glared up at him, those vividly amber orbs entrancing her every fiber.
His eyes were as pure as the yellow flowers she’d dreamed of beyond the forest. The ones that wandered the plains and decorated the wind during storms. She didn’t realize her lips had fallen agape in awe instead of horror.
Such a creature should be licking her bones by now.
Instead, his claws didn’t even leave marks on her arms.
The naga rolled back onto his stomach and resumed their trek. Where he was taking them, she had no idea.
Another shriek cried from above. Somehow closer than last time.
Though her priority was getting hold of that fruit she hurt herself for, she understood their safety was his priority.
And if this was a creature that the naga was wanting to hide from then she definitely didn’t want to face it in her current state.
Though, would it be a nicer death to go by naga fangs or the maw of some rotting unknown?
She shook her head, burying the thought.
Wrapping her arms back around his neck, Griselda peered over his broad shoulder and watched as he shoved leaves and growth out of the way.
It was odd to her that this side of the forest was so luscious with how the other side had just been.
She knew the Strangle had become too much for the area by Mistveil, but didn’t think lush areas still existed to this extent.
The trees were wider here. They seemed to have denser foliage and allowed moss to overtake their trunks.
Small rocks jutted out of the grassy soil yet the naga’s marbled scales glided over them effortlessly.
A strange smell wafted toward them, one that Griselda wasn’t familiar with.
She was unsure if it was the vegetation or the lack of the Strangle.
“Almost there.” The mumbled words interrupted her absorption of this strangely new world.