Dawn broke across the hills of Bree-land, the first rays of the sun shining through a small bedroom window, stirring Cyla. Opening her green eyes, she'd slowly sit up, wiping the nights sleep from them. Glancing around her room she'd throw the covers off her and move to dress herself upon hearing her father and elder brother also stirring within the farmhouse. Humming softly, she'd quickly make her way to the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
Setting down the bowls of porridge, Cyla would smile gently towards her father and brother. In turn they would greet her warmly, and she saw in her fathers eyes the usual sadness she had come to know as he gazed upon his only daughter. Silently, they would sit and eat, Cylas mind drifting to the years past where she'd sit before her father, in front of the hearth in the kitchen, listening to tales of the mother she never knew.
Once she had cleared the breakfast things and the men were hard at work, toiling the fields, Cyla would set about her other chores. Humming softly, she made her way to the horses, a soft and gentle smile tugging at her youthful lips. First she approached Stormer, her fathers horse. The grey steed looked at her with expectant eyes. With a gentle chuckle she would reach up and gently rub his nose, her thoughts once again drifting back to the years gone by..
"Hard work never hurt no one. We live and work on the farm, we can't just take a day off when we feel like it.. the farms survival is dependant on us." Her father once told her. Cyla would smile gently as she remembered the words, spoken to her in a soft yet hard tone. A life lesson her father called it. One she readily applied on a daily basis.
As noon approached, Cyla began to make her way from the horses having mucked them out and tended their daily needs. Her green gaze suddenly turning to Stormer as the horse whinnies and stomps his hoof, clearly unsettled.
"Tis not like you Stormer, what is wrong?", remarked Cyla. Concern crossing her young face. Only now did she realise how still the air was. How quiet the birds had grown. Her gaze darting about the farm, she'd spot her father and elder brother, still hard at work.
Suddenly a cry would break the still air along with the sound of a dozen pounding feet upon the earth. Her panicked gaze darting to her father and brother, who were already running to the house.
"Quick, Cyla.. into the cellar! Hide!", her father urged as he ran inside the home, fetching his weapon. Obediently, she ran into the house and down the cellar steps, her brother closing the door after her. Finding a dark, quiet corner, she would sit and hide.
Moments later, shouts and the sounds of swords clashing filled the small farm. Though dulled to Cyla, she would tightly hold her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the sounds around her. After what seemed like an Age passing, all fell silent. Slowly, Cyla would lower her hands and listen for any sound of life from above. Any sound that would betray the intruders as having still been there. Yet, there was none.
Rising from her hiding place, she quietly made her way to the door. Taking a deep breath, she would try to peek through the gap. As she drew closer, a warm, wet drip landed on her forehead. Frowning slightly, she'd brush it away and push at the door with her shoulder. After some effort, Cyla finally succeeded. Squinting slightly as the light hit her eyes after sitting in the dark for so long.
She'd look down at her hand which had brushed away the drip on her forehead, frowning upon seeing it was blood. Her gaze lifting and darting wildly around the room she would scream upon seeing her father slain laying nearby. Ignoring the ransacked house, Cyla ran outside, in search of her brother.
"Eric?! Eric?!", she screamed. She'd run to the fields, searching frantically for him, yet she would only come across a slain blackwold. "Eric?!", she'd scream once more, tears rolling down her cheeks as two guardsmen ran to the farm. Ignoring the newcomers who looked upon her with pity, she'd run to the horses. There, lying next to Stormer was Eric, unconscious and barely alive.
Cradling her brother, Cyla would look around the ransacked farm. One of the guard, a friend approached Cyla with caution. "Cyla?", he asked. Turning her gaze to him she would whisper "H-he needs help.. please.. get him to a healer." The guard would nod and beckon his fellow over. Together they would carefully lift Eric and move him. Cyla meanwhile remained kneeling, her eyes gazing at the carnage and destruction left in the wake of the attack...
Cyla Applegate - Before The Eagle Guard
by Cyla Grimblade on Jun 28, 2012 at 12:02 AM}