Short Story – The Messenger Part 1

Part of the writing course I’m studying recommends writing short stories as a good way to hone your craft and connect with readers. So, I’ve completed Part 1 of a short story called ‘The Messenger’, which, in keeping with my novel is set in a fantasy world. I’d love to know what you think! Leave a comment about this story if you liked it, or if you didn’t like it and have some constructive criticism.

The Messenger – Part 1

It was a moonless night, and the land was draped in velvety shadows. Four elves picked their way silently through the forest, padding on light feet. Barely a sound they made as they flitted from tree to tree, stealthily progressing north. Each footstep was deliberately placed, to avoid drawing attention. Keen night eyesight meant potentially noisy obstacles were avoided.  Cloaked and hooded, their dark forms were barely discernible.

The leader was the tallest and moved with confidence and grace honed from years of perfecting stealth. Then followed the other three. The elf at the rear was the smallest, and occasionally struggled to keep up with her teammates. Allaria was her name, a recruit to the elven forces and barely out of basic ranger training. This was her first mission out in the field.

She stumbled and brought her foot down heavily on a twig. A sharp crack echoed through the still forest night. The leader hissed sharply and raised his hand to indicate a halt. No one moved. All listened intently for any signs of enemy movement. This part of the forest was goblin territory, and the creatures had excellent hearing.

An owl hooted somewhere in the distance. Rustling foliage was heard, and all eyes swivelled in that direction. Bows were silently drawn and nocked, ready to fire. The bushes ahead parted. A fox sauntered out and sniffed curiously at the unusual guests in the forest. Allaria breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and mentally chastised herself for being so clumsy. She was nervous, as were most new recruits on their first mission.

She caught the eye of their leader, Rilinda who gave her a stern look and indicated his displeasure with a few choice hand signals. Had it been daylight, her squad mates would have observed Allaria blushing deeply, but the shadows saved her that embarrassment at least.  The third member of the squad, Allaria’s older brother Elendal shot her a sympathetic look. He remembered being a recruit all too vividly.

After a few more minutes, there were no more noises save those of the forest at night. Appearing satisfied with this, Rilinda motioned for them to continue. They were after all, tasked with delivering the dispatch from the main camp to the northern outpost as quickly as possible.

Allaria focused on stepping carefully and precisely, as she had been taught to do. For some miles they continued, slipping wraith like, unheard and unseen through the inky blackness of the forest. She got into a rhythm, breathing in time with her movements and following her squad mates. She was so focused on moving smoothly, she almost ran into the back of Elendal when Rilinda motioned for them to halt again.

Rilinda sniffed the air delicately and swivelled his head slowly left, then right. He had heard a faint movement and caught a brief whiff of goblin stench. The creatures had a particular odour, acrid and pungent which was a useful, if disgusting early warning of their approach. He tried to get a fix on the direction of the noise, but even for one so experienced this was a difficult task.

Allaria wiped a bead of sweat off her brow and fervently hoped they wouldn’t run into goblins. She had never actually seen one, only heard about them in training. By all accounts, they sounded like fearsome creatures, possessing a face full of fangs, a set of taloned fingers and an aggressive and belligerent attitude which make them unpredictable and difficult to fight.  There was an old soldier in camp with a vivid white scar across his face, a lasting memento of a battle with goblins.

The goblin stench was getting stronger. At Rilinda’s command, they all crouched down low to the ground, trying to camouflage themselves amongst the leaves. Allaria hardly dared breathe. There were noises now too, a great jabbering and chattering plus what sounded like screeching and metal clashing.  The goblin language was strange indeed, Allaria thought.

The noises intensified, and after a few minutes a group of goblins crashed through the foliage, not 15 feet from where the elves lay. Allaria could not help but stare.  There was a great variation in size amongst the goblins; some were short and squat like dwarves, others were taller and sinewy, almost human sized. She could see fangs and claws glistening here and there, illuminated by the flickering torches they carried. They made no attempt to be stealthy and several appeared to be bickering amongst themselves.  The stench was almost overpowering, and Allaria had to resist rubbing her watering eyes, least her movement draw attention.  

The goblins appeared to be completely unaware of the elves hidden literally feet away, and Allaria was convinced that she and her squad would be able to continue once the last goblins had passed by. However, fate was not kind to the elves on this occasion. Bringing up the rear were the goblin trackers, a large dog-like animal with a huge snout and long spindly legs. Snuffling and casting about the forest floor, the trackers started braying and straining against their leashes.

The goblins stopped their jabbering and drew to a halt, silent now and wary. “What is it?” one hissed suspiciously. He released the leash tethering one of the trackers, and it leapt on Rilinda’s hiding place, barking madly and growling, throwing up clouds of leaves and dirt. Rilinda had no choice but to unsheathe his dagger and stab the creature in the belly, least it rip his face off. The goblins hissed in dismay as the tracker yelped in pain and limped away, gravely wounded but alive.

Rilinda rose like a corpse from a grave, covered in dirt and leaves and shrouded in his cloak. A few of the younger goblins ran, fearing necromancy or some other devilry that was easier to flee than to fight. Allaria swore under her breath but did not stir. Rilinda had not signalled an attack, and she assumed he meant to distract the goblins and lead them away from the rest of the squad.