Artaqifa, Eric K. Hasler [english novels for students .txt] 📗

dipped it into the pot until it was saturated; she left a part of the wet rag hanging out of the pot. She then squatted patiently and squeezed the little rock in her right hand.

It didn’t take long before the men came running. She was surprised that there were so few of them left. Kyson and her father looked scared out of their wits running for their lives, until they came across Artaqifa. They stopped, “What the hell are you doing girl?” shouted her father. Kyson reached down to grab her by the arm, “Come now! You’re a brave young lady, but there’s no point in facing unbeatable odds,” he said with a tear in his eye. “There are only five of you left?” She asked through her tears. “Yes,” said her father in a desponded way, “that’s the reason why we must flee. Hurry now girl!” “Crap,” said Kyson, “they’ve caught us already. Run girl!” Instead Artaqifa started to bang the little rock in her hand onto the rocky floor. “Come on,” she muttered, while the five remaining men turned to attack. “Stop!” she screamed, and the men turned to look at her. “They aren’t even in the clearing yet, so wait. I have a plan,” she shouted at them. Tysicka looked around the clearing, his shoulders slumped; there was no hope left in the man. He turned to Kyson, smiled and said jokingly, “Well, everything else has failed!” With a deep sigh Kyson said, “Alright young lady, what is it you have planned?” “Just wait until you can see how many there are left. That means waiting until they come into the clearing,” she said calmly. Kyson laughed anxiously and said, “I hope you know what you’re doing girl?” “What have we to lose?” she said and with one last slam of her rock, and one last “come on you little bastard” she succeeded. The rock produced a spark which landed in the pool of liquid and caught fire. She grabbed the pot with the rag sticking out, lent it towards the little pool of fire. Success! Her eyes marvelled at what was about to occur. She stood up and very quickly ran three steps and with all her strength threw the pot. Tumbling over and over the pot reached the top of its arch and started its descent. It fell short of the golden powder, but it shattered and sprayed the golden powder with burning liquid which exploded into a massive ball of flames at the exact moment the enemy was in the middle of the paths exit. The screams were louder than anything she had heard before, however her laughter seemed to drown them out. She was enjoying the effect her concoction had made. It was so effective that she had single-handedly decimated twenty of their enemy. Fiery limbs had flown into the night air in every direction imaginable. Burning flesh rained down onto the solid rock ground like small meteors falling from the heavens, which splattered into thousands of miniature globs of red hot fat staining the clearing in front of her. Kyson had seen what had happened and turned to her with a beaming smile, while ten of the enemy who still possessed whole bodies walked towards them on fire shouting obscenities that can only come for someone who is very crafty with words, or in extreme pain.

Her father had taken advantage of the inferno and attacked the remaining living entities of fire. Artaqifa stood up and moved fifteen steps to the north and waited for the flaming enemy to drive her friends back. Once they had arrived at the desired position she picked up the five pots containing the white powder and threw them with incredible accuracy at the enemy. As the pots hit the men they shattered and the white powder went to work doing to them what it had done to Artaqifa’s arm. They dropped their swords, and dropped to their knees as the white powder ate through their armour and skin, causing another manner of burning and more screams for help. Artaqifa didn’t bother helping them; instead through her smiling and cackling she quickly ran thirty steps to the south. Picked up another pot and threw it at an adversary, which produced a hysterical laughter coming from deep within side her. Through the white dust, fire, smoke, and screams she heard a familiar voice scream out in pain. She stopped laughing, and shivered as recognition of the voice sunk in. She picked up another pot and jogged into the skirmish, “father? father? where are you?” he was too busy to answer. When she found him, he was lying on the ground with three spears sticking out of his chest, and there was a tall rival standing over him with his sword grasped tightly in both hands and held above his head with the blade pointing down. Artaqifa acted quickly. She took the lid off the pot and ran towards the tall man; she swung the pot in a sideways arch from right to left, allowing the white powder to spray across the opponents face entering the eyes, nose, and mouth. He screamed and dropped the sword and used both of his hands in an attempt to remove the powder form his face and eyes, but instead made it worse. The powder ate away at the man’s eyes, cheeks, nose and lips. Bubbling froth started to appear over the whole of his face. As the screaming continued the powder ate away every last piece of flesh on the face leaving nothing of his features except a skinless skull; he was blinded and disfigured for good. Just then from the west, out of the Path to Nowhere, came high pitched, blood curdling squealing. All the men turned at the same time not exactly sure what was happening. It was the women, they had seen what was happening, grown some courage and began running into battle shrieking a deafening sound that produced fear deep within the remaining enemy. Looking at the fire to their left, and seeing the enraged squealing women crashing towards them from the right a shout went out, “Ambush!” and the man turned to run back into the fire, followed by two other enemy attackers. Artaqifa wasn’t fazed by the squealing, she just continued to throw the remaining pots of white powder at the defecting enemy scoring a shot each to the backs of two men and one to the head of the other. All three screamed, burned, dropped to their knees and rolled onto their backs in a futile attempt to rid themselves of the burning pain. Kyson walked over to them smiling and muttering obscenities, he swung his axe mercilessly and released them from their pain, and this world.

Artaqifa turned to her father, blood was beginning to bubble out from his mouth. The fear for her father twisted and created a tight knot deep within her heart. Her face contorted and developed a wide beaming smile, her eyes glowed with a bright and yet pale light green. Her emotions grew colder as she knelt beside Tysicka. He raised his right hand to his daughters face as a tear ran out of his right eye. Artaqifa held his hand to her left cheek. Tysicka coughed and spluttered blood as he tried to speak, “take both my blades” he said as Kyson knelt down on the left, and rested his right hand on Tysicka’s forehead, and “my friend” was all he could say. Tysicka smiled, and coughed, “take her over to Armaros,” he coughed and spluttered some more. Looking at Artaqifa he said, “You have a future as long as you leave Yippar Tarin.” He pulled his right hand from her cheek and spluttered, “Leave!” He coughed “Now!” Artaqifa took her father’s blades from his side and stood up. Standing there looking down at Tysicka she felt the knot in her heart release and her smile grew larger. “Goodbye father,” she said emotionlessly as she turned away from him and walked over to the red rock to gather her bag of ingredients.

Kyson stood up, struggled to pull his gaze from his dead friend. With tears in his eyes he called the four surviving men, and the women and children together then said, “We must get back to the city. The people there will need our help.” Artaqifa walked over to Kyson, looked him in the eyes and said, “We must get to Armaros as my father said.” “We will,” said Kyson, “but first we must get these people back to the city.” Artaqifa grinned as she reached into her bag and pulled out a pot of white powder, grasping it in her right hand she said, “You can’t keep these people safe anymore. We do as my father commanded!” Kyson took two steps back and raised both hands in the air and said, “Now girl, do you think these people here can make a trip like that?” Artaqifa looked at the now very shocked group, her eyes darkened and her face contorted into a snarl as her mother spoke. “Artaqifa, please see the sense in what Kyson is saying. Our people are in the city and they need our help!” Artaqifa relented, placed the pot back into her bag, “alright Kyson, but promise me that when all is well you will lead me over to Armaros.” Kyson lowered his hands, “I heard what your father said. My promise is to him, not you! I will lead you to Armaros myself. But I can tell you that man is not to be trusted!”

Everybody was quite as they descended the Path to Nowhere. The children were clinging to their mothers, and they were white with the fear of what they might find in the city. Kyson was trying to act like everything was in control, but the way he walked showed that he was trying to conceal the trembling that was enforced by the fear of entering back into a city which had just been attacked. Artaqifa was attempting to control herself for different reasons. Her mind was completely clear. All the fear she had vanished the moment her father died. She didn’t care for anybody else in the city, least of all her mother. The children, well, it’s not their fault that they were idiots since the women who brought them up were pathetic. They spent all their time trying to please their men that they’d forgotten what it means to be alive. No longer did they enjoy life; no longer did they know how to do the things they wanted. They’re just slaves to the men of the city. She looked across to Kyson and grinned, “Never before has he been told what to do by a female,” she thought. Her grin grew wider as she realised that his fear was not from what he may find in the city, but from her. The reaction from the other women when she told him he couldn’t keep them safe was like a veil being lifted off their eyes. Smiling to herself she felt another release, like a bubble bursting deep inside her. She embraced the release and welcomed the freedom it seemed to promise. Her grin grew deeper etching its way through her cheeks, her eyes widened at the possibilities of a world outside of Yippar Tarin. A thought entered her head, a thought that seemed to be from somewhere or someone else. She shuddered, “who are you,” she thought, “what do you want, how did you invade my head?” A buzzing sound started echoing around inside her skull and the thought came back stronger. She stopped, dropped to her knees, and whispered “leave me alone!” “No,” was the reply. Her mother quickly came to Artaqifa’s aid, cradling her head in both hands she asked, “What’s wrong dear?” As Artaqifa looked up she shuddered from the bright pale green sparkle in her daughters eyes. “My head,” said Artaqifa, “it hums and