Chapter 12
C ursing under my breath, I hauled my freshly killed buck behind me, my boots struggling for purchase with each labored step. The carcass dragged at my aching muscles as the metallic scent of blood filled the air. Sweat trickled down my spine, dark strands of hair plastered to my face as I forced myself onward.
After days of searching for civilization, my heart sank at the sight of the town before me. Fear and exhaustion coiled in my gut, like a serpent waiting to strike.
Sunneva's forces had clearly claimed this town as their own. The buildings near the entrance lay broken, reduced to mounds of splintered wood and shattered stone. Wooden spikes jutted from the walls like teeth, each one a trophy of Sunneva's conquest.
The Sunnevan guards at the gate barely spared a glance at me and my quarry.
You needed to bag a large one to have a chance to get the supplies you need, Ma?l murmured in my mind.
My heart stuttered, a mixture of comfort and pain washing over me at the sound of his voice.
I grunt, struggling to breathe as I continued to drag the large beast. I should've listened to you more when we were training.
You're doing fine, just a few more steps, Lor. His presence faded like mist at dawn, retreating to that dark corner of my mind where my sanity comes into question. The loss of his voice, whether real or imagined, left an ache in my chest.
I approached the blacksmith's forge, my gaze lingered on the arrows on display. These arrows put my old ones to shame. My chest tightened at the thought and I shove the feeling away. No use dwelling on memories of home, especially not over arrows.
The blacksmith looked up from the sword he was hammering on the anvil. The burly man's eyes widened as they landed on the buck I'd dragged behind me. The muscles in his arms tensed as he paused his work, sweat gleaming on his brow.
"That's quite the kill you've got there, miss," he said, setting the iron weapon down and wiping his hands on a grimy rag.
I nodded, fighting to keep my expression neutral despite my exhaustion. My fingers flexed against the rope, refusing to show weakness.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling like distant thunder.
"I'd say so. You looking to trade?"
"Arrows," I said, jerking my chin toward the display. "And I need my bow repaired."
The blacksmith's gaze sharpened, sizing me up like a weapon he meant to forge.
"Let's see that bow of yours, then."
I carefully unstrapped it from my back, mindful to keep my cloak in place. The less attention I drew, the better. The bow barely held through this last hunt—its string frayed and the wood chipped and worn.
He took it, turning it over in his calloused hands. "This has seen better days. But it's good craftsmanship. I can fix it up for you."
I nodded, my eyes drawn inexorably to the arrows again.
"Depends on how many you want," he said, following my gaze. "That buck of yours could fetch a fair amount."
I stepped closer, keeping my voice low. "How about we make a deal? The meat for the arrows and the bow repair."
The blacksmith's eyebrows shot up. "That's quite the offer, miss, but it's too much. I'll replace your bow and fill your quiver. Deal?"
"Deal," I said, my violet eyes meeting his. I could see the curiosity there, the questions he yearned to ask but wouldn't.
He hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. You've got yourself a deal."
As he turned to gather the arrows, I caught sight of my reflection in a polished shield. My face was gaunt, my eyes haunted. I barely recognized myself anymore.
You're doing what needs to be done, Ma?l's voice whispers in my mind.
I closed my eyes, willing the phantom voice away. When I opened them again, the blacksmith was back, arrows in hand.
"These should do you nicely," he said, holding them out.
I took them, testing their weight and balance. They were not perfect, but they'll do. "Thank you," I murmured.
He nodded, already turning his attention to my bow. "I've got some bows close to this size in the back." He gestured towards a back door, "Give me just a moment."
I nodded, slipping the arrows into my quiver. As he turned, a scream erupted from a yard away.
I whipped around, my hand instinctively reaching for my dagger. A Sunnevan guard's angry shouts sliced through the buzzing market, a young woman struggling against his iron-tight grip. Tears streamed down her face as she twisted and turned, her hand pushing on his trying to break free.
"Please, let me go!" she pleaded, her voice cracking with fear. "Papa!"
The guard's face twisted with rage. "Shut up and come with me, no one's going to save you."
My breath hitched as I watched the scene unfold. The woman's desperate cries for help tugged at something I've pushed deep inside me, a part I wished had died along with my village. Every instinct screamed at me to intervene, but drawing attention to myself could be fatal. My stomach churned with the weight of my choices, duty warring against conscience with every beat of my heart.
Could you forgive yourself for walking away? Ma?l's voice whispered in my mind. My heart shattered at the weight of his words, each syllable a blade against my conscience.
I drew a deep breath, my decision crystallizing like frost on glass.
The shadows answered my call, wrapping around me like a lover's embrace, familiar and cold. The market's sounds faded to a dull hum as I moved closer to the altercation, keeping my steps on dryer ground to avoid slipping in the mud.
The guard dragged the woman towards an alley, his fingers dug into her arm hard enough to leave bruises. She stumbled, nearly falling, and he yanked her upright with a snarl.
"Papa, help me! Someone, anyone, please!" she cried out, her wild hair whipping around her face as she fought against the guard's grip. But the townspeople kept their heads down, pretending not to see.
I slipped between two market stalls, my shadows coiling around me as I prepared to jump guard from behind. Anxiety coiled in my chest, but my hands remained steady as I drew my dagger.
Be careful, Lor, Ma?l's voice whispered. You don't know what you're getting into.
I ignored him and focused on the guard and the terrified woman. I wouldn't stand by and watch another innocent suffer.
The moment presented itself when she slipped, her knees hitting the mud and almost taking her attacker down with her. I struck, my shadows surging forward as I crashed into the struggling pair, breaking his hold on her.
His face contorted into a sneer before his eyes found me, fear bleeding into them as he took me in. A creature of darkness instead of a mere girl.
He fell, scrambling backwards as I took measured steps towards him. My dagger melded with the rest of me as I stalked my prey.
"Please, please," he begged, his voice trembling, "I-I let her go, see? Please don't take me." He backed himself into a wall, silence falling over the market as the townsfolk watched the sight. Even the other Sunnevan guards stayed back in fear of what they were witnessing.
I stopped beside him, crouching down to meet his gaze. Could he see past the void where my eyes should be? I tilted my head to the side as I studied the man. He's human, built with large muscles and clearly compensating. I turned my head to the side and saw the woman now hiding behind the blacksmith, who stood protectively before her, eyes unblinking and ready for a brawl. Now that I saw them side by side, he must be the father she'd called for.
"Not willingly," I pointed out. The acrid scent of urine filled the air. "Would you have beaten her? Raped her? Forced her upon all of your buddies to wet your tiny cocks?" With each question my shadows writhed with my growing rage.
He furiously shook his head, "N-no, I would never-"
"Yes, you would." I snarled, my blade flashing out to silence his lies forever. I rose, my gaze sweeping over the guards watching in horror as their friend's life ebbed away. "Who's next?" I challenged, shadows writhing around me.
The guards scattered like leaves in a storm, their courage crumbling before the darkness that consumed me. Typical Sunnevans—always choosing self-preservation over honor.
I glided back to the forge, lifting the new bow from the counter. The heavy presence of the blacksmith loomed behind me as I tested the length and weight of the new gear.
"Thank you, my daughter—" His voice broke with emotion, "she is the only family I have left. That bow is not enough of a payment for what you did."
I slung the bow onto my back and turned to face the man. Sheltered from the prying eyes of the community, I released my shadows, allowing him to see me clearly. "This war has already taken enough from everyone. I won't accept payment for defending an innocent." I took a step past him but he thrust a meaty hand out.
"Wait," he hurried to a tall shelf, bringing down a short black roll of cloth, "these are my finest daggers. Obsidian from the mage's mountain, please take them." He presented the bundle to me, and I accepted it with hesitation. I examined one of the blades, its deep black surface gleaming as it settled perfectly in my hands. "May they keep you safe in your travels."
I inclined my head in thanks and slipped out the back of the forge. Whispers of "Death's Wraith" rippled amongst the people around me, my new daggers a comforting weight against my body.
The assassin could lead me to Johan—the monster who had razed my village and stolen Ma?l from me. My heart clenched at the thought of him, but I pushed the pain aside. There's no room for weakness now.
You're getting close, Ma?l's voice echoed in my mind. A constant reminder of my lost love. Be careful, Lor.
"I know," I muttered to myself.
The town fell away behind me as I melted into the forest's embrace. Each life I took added another weight to my conscience, another shadow to my soul. The whispers of "Death's Wraith" followed me like a curse, but the memory of that girl's relieved face made it bearable. I'd chosen this path—becoming the monster they feared to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. At least Ma?l's voice, whether phantom or memory, anchored me to who I once was. That innocent girl who dreamed of more than vengeance was gone, transformed by necessity into something darker, deadlier. As the shadows welcomed me home, I could only pray that somewhere, somehow, Ma?l would understand what I'd become.