Chapter 42
I reluctantly walked towards the closest ladder.
I grunted, pulling myself and my bag out through the vent. Kneeling, I shielded my eyes with my hand as they flickered and squinted against the radiant sunlight. I rose to my feet and spun around, taking in the long stretch of greenish-brown marshland that surrounded me.
I took out the compass. To the northwest was land that showed a remarkable blend of regeneration.
Scars from the Naari flames remained—remnants of burnt trees, some still standing, others that had fallen into ashen logs.
But close to them, new life thrived. Young trees and saplings made their way into the world, bringing with them colour and existence.
To my left were the remains of the purification mills, all crumbled and forgotten.
I vividly imagined the people of Ilma, powerless, screaming their throats out as they fled the flames of Pyrona. I blinked the image away.
Standing at the border of the woodland, I watched the leaves dance in the wind, their veins shimmering with sunlight. I looked back once, towards the Land I could no longer see—my homeland—before stepping into the dense forest. Forward, I told myself. Always forward.
My gaze roamed as I threaded amidst towering pine trees, their branches alive with the frantic chatter of birds. I frowned at the ones branded with burn marks. My objectives were simple: move fast and remain concealed.
For the night, I found refuge on a broad tree branch, suspended high above the forest floor. I obeyed my wary gut and scanned my surroundings as I climbed, threatened by every moving shadow, every snapping twig.
I hoped that the branch wasn’t burned at its core—that I wouldn’t be waking mid-fall, plunging into the darkness as it crumbled beneath me.
The branch did not break. I did not fall. Though the lingering sense of watchful eyes lurking somewhere in the distance persisted.
I hiked for hours.
I pieced the route together in my mind. Three days away, if my calculations were correct. I unfolded the map before me, careful not to lose my footing.
I glanced over my shoulder, letting paranoia get the better of me once more. See, no one, I assured myself. My gaze returned to the map and I gasped, eyes wide.
I thought it was a figment of my imagination, but no, it was very real. The map caught on fire. It started as a small circle at its centre, which grew wider and wider until I had to let go of its borders. I jerked my head up and looked beyond the floating paper ashes.
I quickly nocked an arrow.
I aimed it at the man who was leaning against a pine tree, chuckling under his breath. Not just a man—a Naari soldier.
“Oh, look what we have here. A lost little lamb with a bow and arrow.” Laughter echoed.
My aim shifted towards another soldier, who stepped out from behind an olive tree. He winked at me, clicking his tongue. Then it was directed towards a third man of flames, who emerged from behind another tree trunk, a grin spreading across his face.
“Do you really think that one little bow could save you from three men, including a Fire Wielder?” the one in the middle asked, pointing a finger at himself. “Do you even know how to use that thing, little lamb? Baa, baa, meh.” The others chuckled.
“Let me through,” I demanded. “I’m looking for my mother. She is very ill and is lost somewhere around here.”
“You’re on prohibited territory—armed. Let go of your weapon, you’re coming with us.”
“No. I need to find my mother. Let me leave.” I wasn’t sure why I tried to play the poor-girl card, knowing very well that it wouldn’t work against the spineless men of Naar.
“I don’t think so.” The Wielder formed a fireball in his palm and pushed himself off the tree, taking two steps towards me.
With little thought, I let go of the poised arrow, aiming just an inch away from his head.
The arrow thunked as it hit the pine tree behind him.
A trickle of blood soon ran down his left ear. I wasted no time nocking another.
“Know that I did not miss. Let me leave and I won’t shoot you.”
“You bitch!” the Wielder snarled, hurling the fiery orb at me. I dodged it, almost losing my balance as the weight of my bag shifted.
The other two drew out their swords. The Wielder formed another orb, readying himself for the throw.
I was about to leap into a sprint, but I froze at the transition of deep noises that reverberated throughout the glade.
It started as a deep purr that turned into a hiss, soon after a vicious growl. I swore the ground below us trembled.
What the fuck was that?
“A panther?” one of them questioned, his tone and inhale exposing his concern.
Another growl resounded, but this time it came from the Fire Wielder, as he readied a flaming arm.
He didn’t leave me with much choice. The fireball quickly dissipated.
He held his pierced shoulder, his fingers bloodied around the impaled wood. “Bitch!” he choked out.
Deep growls filled the air once more. They felt closer this time, coming from somewhere behind the thicket.
Leaves ruffled and twigs snapped. By instinct, I aimed my arrow towards the direction of the animalistic sounds.
But the Fire Wielder was not done with me.
He drew my attention with the hiss and crackle of fire, fluttering with life in the soft breeze.
Then it fell silent, other than my uneven breaths and wielded flames.
I didn’t run. Because what I saw next had me completely stunned.
A white male appeared from behind the trees.
He moved silently, nearing the three men.
A wild roar left his throat—a sound that made everyone believe he was some wild beast. My lips parted in surprise at the odd ability.
The three men turned themselves around. I could’ve easily shot the Fire Wielder in the back. I didn’t. I just stood there, unmoving.
“Apologies for the intrusion, my good sirs,” the white male purred, making a theatrical gesture. “But unfortunately for you, your paths have crossed with mine…so now you must die.” The Fae with long platinum hair unsheathed his fancy sword.
The two side-men lunged for him, swords readied, and a two-against-one dance began, filling the air with sounds of clashing swords and grunts of effort.
I took one step back. The Fire Wielder looked my way with hateful eyes, readying another ball of fire with his good arm.
I dodged it, barely, then threw myself into a sprint.
Perhaps the Fire Wielder was too injured to run after me, or perhaps it was the gurgling sounds that came out of his men’s throats that kept him stuck in place.
The sound of flesh being slashed filled the glade.
I looked over my shoulder. The Fire Wielder’s aim was now directed at the white male, who was back arched, retrieving his sword from one of the men’s necks.
I stopped running. I aimed.
And as my arrow made its way through and through the Fire Wielder’s neck, the white Fae’s sword synchronously impaled him chest to back. The Fire Wielder fell to his knees; his limp body thumped.
He would have died anyway. It was in defence, and he was going to die anyway. I kept telling myself that. It was the only thing that kept me from barfing.
We stood, facing each other at a distance. I nocked an arrow, slowly, carefully raising my bow.
“Who are you?” I asked. “And what are you doing here?” The arrow pointed at his head.
“I was about to ask you the same things,” he said, his voice playful, tempting me to take the shot.
“Well, I asked you first.” Unlike his, my voice was tense.
“Very well,” he said, shifting his weight to his right leg. “I am no one but the dashing Marshen Deucane, from Silch, of course, as you may have already presumed from my striking, ice-white looks.” He gestured with an exaggerated bow. “And you are, my lady?”
“I’m…Delia. Delia Wildheart, from Ramel. Give me one good reason not to shoot you, Marshen Deucane.”
“Well, for starters, I’ve never done anything to offend you…and…oh! Maybe saving your life is a good enough reason, Delia Wildheart.”
“I had it under control.”
“I very much doubt that. But you can always thank me instead of shooting me, you know?” He approached, slowly, his arms lifted at his sides.
“Stay back,” I ordered, my voice firm.
“I’m not going to hurt you. On the contrary, Lady Wildheart, all I want is to help you.”
“Help me?” I scoffed. “Why? And why should I trust you?”
He chuckled. “Do you believe in destiny, Wildheart?” I did not answer his question. “Well, I do. And it is because of destiny that you can trust me, as fate has decided that I need you just as much as you need me.” He neared another few steps.
“I said stay back!” The white male stopped only a few feet away. His eyes, I could see clearly now, were celeste—a light blue. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” I bit.
“It means, Delia, that I owe a not-yet-named favour to Lord Aegir Hailin, and you—you smell just like him. I’m fairly certain that escorting his human lady, ensuring her safety, would repay the favour just fine.”
“I’m not his lady.” Yet as the bitter words left my mouth, I still found myself lowering the bow at my side.
“Well, your scent surely says otherwise.”
My brows remained furrowed. “What are you doing here?” I pressed.
“I’m here because I was sent on a mission, ordered by your brother-in-law himself, King Ryvar Hailin.”
“My—he’s—what kind of mission?”
“That still remains confidential. But I can tell you that I’m here with good intentions.”
My gaze shifted towards the fallen men. “You consider killing three men a good intention?”
“Well, that saved your life, didn’t it? And I believe I killed just two.”
He would have died anyway.
I remembered that the map to the Falls was earlier turned into ash, so I asked, “Do you have a map of Ilma?”
“No, but—”
“Then I don’t need your help. Good day, sir.”
I was about to turn on my heel when he said, “That doesn’t mean I don’t know the way, Delia.
I’m not only offering you my charming company, you know?
I’m offering you my eyes, my ears, and my nose.
Protection against the Naari soldiers, which I could just now tell you, two of them are not very far.
I suggest you help me dump these bodies in that ditch over there and then get the jolly fuck away from here.
” He pointed towards the bodies, then at the ditch.
I hesitated. I was in no condition to place my trust in anyone, especially in a male.
My burning heart wouldn’t allow me. But he was right, I did need what he was offering me.
And besides, he needed me just as much as I needed him, did he not?
This was not about trust at all. This was simply a bargain within a bargain.
“Fine. But if you try anything funny, I promise you I will shoot an arrow through your head.”
“Then I have no reason to fear your promise, as I am only at your disposal, milady,” Marshen said, gesturing with a low bow. “I heard you say you were looking for someone?”
I almost stiffened. “Have you been following me?”
“No,” he replied, scrunching his face.
“No?” My brow rose.
“Well, in my defence, I thought I was following Aegir.”
I restrained an eye roll. “Do you know the way to Riptide Falls?” I asked, my tone assertive, expecting from him nothing but a direct answer.
“I do. Why?” he dared ask, arching a brow.
“Take me there.”
“That’s an odd location to venture to. Why are you risking your life to go there?”
“Because I have to go there, all right. You can either join me or don’t. I don’t care. But if you do, and if you swear to protect me, I promise to make sure that your end of the bargain with Aegir is resolved to your liking.”
We were silent for a short while, staring each other down.
“But I thought you said you weren’t his lady,” he finally said. It seemed that trust was on neither of our menus.
“But I thought you said my scent says otherwise.”
He snorted. His hand went to his chin before replying, “All right. I’ll take you to the Falls, for whatever reason that is.”
“All right. Lead the way.”
“We have to hide them first,” he said, gesturing to the three lifeless men.
“Fine.”