• READ THE FIRST CHAPTER BEFORE YOU READ THIS ONE
    (Just so you know, this story is the kind of story that shifts POV's each chapter. Like, the first chapter was in Tanner's point of view, and this second chapter is his new friend Tosca's point of view. I will post a version that is only Tanner's point of view, if you like.
    Under the chapter name, it'll show who's point of view it's in.)

    CHAPTER 2 - Scent of Death
    Tosca

    Tosca had been traveling for years, all by himself. He went from town to town, helping those that needed him, a healthy young boy with thick leather armor, a bow and arrow, and various skills. Once everyone had been helped in one town, he moved onto the next. For most of his 13-year life, this had been his only job. Some people payed handsomely for his services, others had nothing to offer, but he helped them anyway. A long time ago, when he was very young, he had decided that the world would be a perfect place if everyone helped each other out. Knowing that this probably wouldn't happen, he vowed to be at least one person who would do anything to help.
    He had just left the last town behind him, and was heading for the next. He opened up his map as he was walking.
    "The next town is Soran..." he muttered. But he was worried. Soran was in a dangerous region.
    At least I'll have a lot of work to do, if the area is as dangerous as it used to be.
    He rolled up his map, and put it in his backpack. He knew soon he would see the town on the horizon, many buildings standing proudly under a cloud of blue skies and a background of green grass. It had been two years since he'd been here. He couldn't believe he was finally coming back.
    The sun was just beginning to set and the swaying grass was highlighted in gold. He quickened his pace. He was eager to reach the town, to help as many people as he could for tonight and then rest in Soran's cozy inn. But after a few paces, he slowed. As he stood on a grassy slope overlooking the town, he saw many troops at each entrace. He heard the cries of battle and saw the glint of swords in the sunlight. He knew at once that the town was in trouble. He was a little scared, but he pushed that aside. It was his job to help people, after all. He rose his bow and strung an arrow, aiming at the strip of bared skin between the helm and armor of one attacker. He fired.
    Tosca was always a good archer. Even when aiming at a target very small, he always hit. Even if the target was moving. He knew every trick to archery, and knew the strength of his arm and bow very well. It was no surprise that his arrow hit, right in the middle of his thin target. Even from high up on the slope, he saw blood squirt from the wound and the attacker fall to the ground. He smiled in satisfaction. All of the other attackers were too absorbed in their own battles to notice that one of their own had fell. He looked carefully so he could identify the defenders from the attackers, and saw flashes of the red lion that was Soran's symbol. He ran his eyes down the line of defenders, looking for people who really needed help.
    What in the world? Is he stupid? He's doesn't even have the right equipment!
    He had spotted a boy that seemed about his age. Wavy brown hair stuck to the boy's face with sweat. He looked seriously hurt, and no wonder. He was only wearing a leather armor similar to that of an archer's. But that kind of armor wasn't good for close combat! And that sword, it wasn't even sharpened right. The sharp swords of the attackers peirced his armor very easily, and his sword did no damage to anyone. In a few more minutes, he would be dead.
    Tosca edged closer, raising his bow again. He fired twice. Two soilders cornering the other boy went down. The boy looked up, confused. He glimpsed Tosca, standing on the slope. His distraction was a big mistake. Another big sword slashed at his legs, and he went down.
    Tosca could no longer see the boy. He was lost in the crowd of soilders. Tosca wondered if shooting those two soilders was really the right thing to do. Now, it seemed pretty stupid. Whoever that boy was, he could be dead because of him.
    Tosca did not let that ruin his fighting spirit. He rose his bow again and again. He had a large supply of arrows, and with his deadly accuracy, he killed many of the attackers.
    But now, the soilders were beginning to realize his prescence. Tosca was so glad that neither sides had archers. He would be shot down where he stood. At the orders of the leaders, five of the fighters broke off from their attacking group and ran at him.
    His heart pounded in fear and excitement. He knew that his archer's armor wouldn't protect him if the soilders got close. The rush made his bow even more deadly. Three of them went down. But the last two were getting closer each second. He knew he had to do his best, or he would die.
    Guess what? His bow dropped.
    It tumbled down the slope, and as he was reaching for it, his arrows fell out of his quiver. His eyes widened in fear. He was helpless. The soilders charged towards him, and he backed up, getting ready to flee.
    "Hey you!"
    The soilders turned. The boy was there. His dark green eyes were feirce. Some blood dripped from one corner of his mouth, but he stood strong and tall. His leg looked fine. Somehow, the boy had defended himself from the slashing sword.
    "I don't think it's very fair to gang up on some completely helpless boy, do you?" The boy smirked. "Well, then I'm going to kill you."
    The boy attacked. He aimed for the same place Tosca always aimed for, and the tip of his sword peirced right through one warrior's neck. He turned quickly, blocked an attack from the other one, and stabbed at that one's neck as well. Both of them fell, their armor clanking loudly as they hit the ground.
    Tanner looked at Tosca for a moment, and Tosca looked at him.
    "My name's Tosca," he said, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.
    "My name's Tanner." Tanner replied. He looked at his sword and then at Tosca's bow. "You ready to take down some more of those attackers?" He was ready, for sure.
    "I will, but I don't think you should run back down there. You'd get killed."
    Tanner looked down at the scene below him. Soran's warriors were winning.
    "Fair enough." Tanner said, after a moment of thought. The town didn't need his help anymore, and even though he didn't want to admit it, he was in a lot of pain. He sighed and sat down on the soft grass, and watched as Tosca retreived his bow and started shooting at the warriors again. He admired Tosca's deadly accuracy. Tanner never learned how to use a bow, but he was sure that even if he did learn, he would never acheive the kind of skill his new friend had.
    The attackers were seriously outnumbered by the defenders. The commander of the attacking troops had no extra warriors to send after them. The battle went on and on, and Tanner silently cheered for Soran in his head, hoping with all his heart they would win.
    Soon, they did. The attackers ran off when only a few of them remained. The remaining warriors of Soran raised their swords to the sky and cheered in victory. But it was a half-hearted cheer, because even though they had won the battle, they had lost many of their friends in the process. Many warriors with Soran's lion on their sheilds lay dead at each entrance, and woman and children rushed out from hiding and cried over their lost family and friends.
    Tanner got to his feet and limped down the slope. Tosca followed, watching the aftermath with sadness. The empire was terrible. Didn't they know that when they fought to control these towns, they killed so many people and left destruction and sadness in their wake? It made both Tosca and Tanner angry. Though Tosca was able to hold his anger better, Tanner spat at an attacker's dead body as they passed it and sweared loudly, cursing the empire with every bad word he knew. His hands were balled into fists at his sides.
    "Tosca! Come here! Help!" a teenage girl called. She was laying at a dead man's side, and tears left tracks down her cheeks. Tosca crossed the cobblestone road and sat beside her. He knew her very well from his last visit to Soran, and he hated seeing tears in her beautiful eyes. "Please help me save my dad! You know what to do, right?"
    Tosca nodded. "First, get me some bandages. I'll need a lot of them. And get some clean water if you can, ok, Carrie?"
    Carrie nodded and ran as fast as she could to her house. Tosca watched her go, and then turned to the injured man. He took the helm off, revealing a pale face covered in cold sweat, but Tosca could hear the quiet rasp of the man's slowing breath. He knew that if he didn't get the armor off and the bandages on in a few minutes, the man would be dead. As he worked to take the armor off, he let his eyes wander to the battlefield. So many dead bodies lay limp on the road. Under each body lay puddles of blood. The sickening scent of death burned in his nostrils, and made him feel sick.
    He hated that scent more than anything else in the world.


    3RD CHAPTER COMING SOON! I think you'll really like this next one... it's gonna be long, though