Mal and Tara pulled their horses short at the crest of the hill. Below them stood the town of Brandel, it's streets eerily empty. A slight breeze ruffled Tara's hair as she looked at Mal questioningly. He gave a small nod and together they rode down the dirt path to the main road in silence. The only sound was the wind through the trees and the clod of the horses hoofs.
The wooden buildings that were usually cheery were rendered bleak in the dimming light. Tara slowed her horse and scanned the main thoroughfare. On normal days, this very street would be bustling with merchants set on plying their wares to every passing villager, their carts brimming with produce, cloth, and trinkets. The air would be filled with the cries of mingling sales pitches and friendly bartering. Tara had loved to come on market days and just listen to the blissful chaos and smell the fresh bread. She had been wearing a cloak on those days too, but only to hide her face from the staring and whispers of the townspeople that inevitably cropped up around her.
The street looked strangely wider without the many carts that normally lined the cobblestones. The storefronts were painted with vibrant colors. Rays of sun that escaped the growing clouds highlighted the spring blossoms in the many window boxes around the buildings. The dark interiors through those very windows, however, told a different story. Tara pulled her cloak tighter and spurred her horse to catch up with Mal, who had already made his way to the gathering hall and was tying off his horse on a nearby post.
The gathering hall was a large, white building with stone steps and wide pillars flanking very tall doors. It was also the only building that showed any sign of disturbance in the otherwise tranquil village. One of the large doors was hanging on one hinge and swinging in a breeze that was quickly turning into a wind as the storm loomed closer. The flowers planted out front were crushed and the soil had been flung everywhere. Mal was bent over inspecting something as Tara tied off her own horse and moved to join him. He motioned for her to continue to be silent as he slowly held up a child's rag doll that had been trampled on the steps. Tara took a quick breath but didn't make any other sound. This was worse than she had thought. It would almost have been better if the whole town were ablaze, the people fleeing in droves, than this silence and emptiness that greeted them wherever they looked. It played all kinds of tricks on her imagination and made her remember that she had only known Mal the space of a few hours and wasn't sure if she trusted him entirely.
Slowly the two of them made their way up the steps and through the gap in the door. If Tara had wanted chaos, she certainly got it when they peered inside. The whole room was in a disarray. Benches and chairs were broken or thrown on their sides. All but one window at the back of the room was smashed, the glass mixing with the loose papers and splinters which lined the floor. Tara gingerly lifted one of the stray pages and glanced down. It was from the book of the registry, one name had been circled in red. The town registry kept track of all the citizens of the village, their occupations, talents, children, even their livestock was listed in neat rows with a small precise script. She had never been listed in that book, and if she had, the page had surely been ripped out after what had happened. Never had she been grateful for such a fact until that morning. She let the page fall back to the floor and was about to whisper to Mal when he turned to her and mouthed "We're being watched" and then quickly motioned for them both to hurry back to the horses. As they flew out the door and down the steps the feeling of danger intensified.
Suddenly, the remaining window shattered and a loud bang sounded from inside as the two fumbled to untie their reins and get in the saddles. They didn't look back as they tore through the empty streets, their backs to the sound of both doors of the hall being broken through. The inhuman roar that echoed afterwards made Tara's shoulders stiffen and her knees lock as they wove through the streets in an effort to lose their pursuer.
The storm which had been threatening all morning was now pelting them with tiny stinging drops of cold rain, making the cobblestones shiny and slick. Tara could only hope the thunder would mask the sound of the horses frantic scrambling - and the rapid beat of her pounding heart.
Her thoughts swirled. Thankfully they saw no bodies anywhere, but why the registry? Were the towns people kidnapped? Recruited? If so, then for what? Why had that name been circled? And what in the name of all that's good was chasing them? It sounded huge, and she swore she had heard claws fighting for purchase on the sodden road at one point.
They finally made it to the outer road, and were darting towards the muddy path back to the forest, when Tara heard a grunt followed by a loud splash. She turned to see Mal's horse had stumbled and had thrown him into a large muddy puddle behind her. "Durf nuggets", she mumbled as she reared her horse and turned to help Mal. "The horse-"she started to say but Mal had already jumped behind her. "No time" he said quickly as another loud roar sounded behind them. She spurred her horse up the hill and through the shrubs that finally gave way to the thick pines.
