Chapter 29
S hikra sat perched on the rafters from the ceiling, which held the strips of silk that draped down to the floor. He was wearing a black mask, the same as when he was the assassin who murdered her charge.
His eyes met hers, and then moved to the orc, narrowing in on him. His body leaned forward from a crouched position, twin daggers out. He was death itself, poised to strike, looming above his hapless victim, unaware that their time had run out.
He was going to take the orc out first. Smart move. But … he was going to do that now? Her heart raced in anticipation. She had to change all the plans she’d made and react quickly, act on instinct alone. Be like Shikra. She’d done this before. And she was alive today because of it.
Don’t fear it. Trust in your body to react. Trust in your training that honed the soldier within you. Trust in yourself.
She stood still as the rose petals gathered around her. One landed on top of her head, and she left it there.
At the sound of a swoosh behind her, she turned around. There was a scream and then lots more screaming. Shikra tore his blades from the neck of the downed orc he stood upon. A thick spray of blood splattered across the dance floor.
Chaos erupted. Behind her, she heard guards ushering their noble masters to the exit. The screaming didn’t stop. Elves panicked and tripped over one another to escape. She pushed her way through the crowd, running across the dais to escape. She had to find Darranyae’s brother.
Draven was standing next to his table, staring behind her at Shikra and what she could only guess was the carnage that followed him. His armed guard stuck a blade in her face when she approached him.
“Your sister is here!” she shouted over all the commotion and noise, running on sheer nerves. “Darranyae.”
“Darranyae?” he questioned, head tilted back in surprise.
“Yes.” She had no time for this, but he had to get Darranyae to safety. “She was up next for this auction.”
Draven Darkmoon’s face twitched in disgust. He made a motion to his guard, and the Dark Elf removed his blade. “Tell me where she is.”
“Upstairs,” Aelrie breathed in deeply as she spoke in relief. “The last door on the left, you will find her there.”
Draven went to take his leave with his guard, but before he did, he had one last word for her as he glanced at Shikra behind her. “Your master certainly knows how to put on a bloody show. Do tell him I relinquish my claim on you.”
She turned back to Shikra. The orc was dead, but one more guard lay dead near him, killed in the chaos, and another guard was in front of him. It seemed these two guards were hidden from her sight before.
Shikra held the Dark Elf female guard she saw earlier at knifepoint. The elf struggled, but he held her tighter. She remembered what that felt like when Shikra had held a blade to her throat. How impossible it was to escape.
The guard in front of him kept his distance, but the Dark Elf female reached for a concealed blade in her leather armor. “Watch out!” Aelrie yelled.
Shikra slit the throat of the guard he held, and a thin line of crimson crossed her neck. She collapsed to the floor as more blood flowed, but Aelrie’s attention was away from her now.
The guard in front of Shikra yelled, “Bastard!” and lunged at him with his sword, but Shikra was not there anymore, and he missed.
Shikra had shadowed behind him and stabbed him in the back using the blade from his dominant right hand.
All this happened within mere seconds.
When the sounds of screams and blades settled, she ran to Shikra, and they stood before Madam Zaya together. The madam turned on the mage cowering at her feet. “She was supposed to be charmed!”
Zaya wrenched the mage up by her hair. There was a small puddle of urine underneath her. She then slammed the mage’s head against a stone post. Blood covered her face, turning it red, and she whimpered no longer.
Madam Zaya turned back to face them with the mage’s hair still clenched in her manicured hand.
Shikra handed Aelrie one of his daggers .
The sleek black metal purred in her hand. It was well-made with an ebony wood handle and blade as black as obsidian; magic lay hidden inside, and only upon touching the blade could she feel the power within, cloaked in the shadows, an assassin’s boon.
Darkor’s words rang through her head. “They only give me the used ones, all soiled and dried up like old husks. I don’t want to play with broken dolls.”
“For all the girls you sold,” she muttered. Her anger and the pain of the girls who came before gathered inside, forming a torrent. “How dare you pervert their dreams. How dare you profit from what was not yours to give!”
Madam Zaya was hunched over. She heaved and threw the dead mage from her hands. “What is this slave saying to me?”
Slave.
The word spurred something feral in her. Aelrie ran and took a leap. The dagger was raised above her, poised just above the madam’s breast. She plunged it in. The pressure cut sharply through skin and bone.
She pulled back.
Madam Zaya stared down at the dagger hilt sticking from her breast in shock and disbelief.
Like a coward, she panicked for the short amount of time she was still alive and screamed in shock, desperately trying to grab the hilt and remove it, but her life was fading from her too quickly, and she landed on the floor, gasping and retching in a wet, gurgling voice until no more sounds came from her.
Aelrie stood there unmoving, gone silent, and stared at the dead body before her.
Shikra walked over and grasped the hilt of the blade, positioning his foot degradingly on the dead madam’s chest to use as leverage to pry the dagger out.
Blood pooled on the floor. He cleaned the blood off the blade using the hem of her shimmering black dress, and the image, to Aelrie, seemed deliberate, an insult to Madam Zaya and who she was, what she stood for.
He turned to her and lowered the mask so she could see his mouth. His lips were lifted into a smile, and his crimson eyes glinted in the light. “I found you.” He breathed out the words. “Are you alright?” He seemed to be checking her over.
She nodded numbly at him, but her gaze was still focused on the blood that grew around her bare feet.
“That was a good kill,” he said, breaking her from her stupor. “Be proud of it.”
A good kill.
She looked up at him, but he was blurry.
Her body wavered. Her legs gave out beneath her.
That was when he swept her up and brought her close to his chest as she breathed in a sigh of relief, and her head instinctively found its place of rest against his shoulder.
All her anger and fear and stress melted away.
He held her closer, tucking her body into his chest, shielding her view from the carnage littering the floor as he carried her from the dreadful place.
His warmth. The delicate undertones of cinnamon and leather. The strength of his arms as he effortlessly bore her weight. She was safe here.
She didn’t have to fight her battles by herself. But it went deeper than that. It meant she wasn’t alone anymore .
Before, she had Lindana. But their relationship never advanced beyond servant and master.
She didn’t have time for friendships because her job as a temple guard demanded everything from her.
And foregoing love because of her vow of chastity kept her from the closeness she never knew she needed until now.
She missed out on so many wonderful things.
Aelrie had been lonely for some time now.
But he was a constant in her life ever since she’d come to the Evergloom. And she relied on him. She wasn’t alone anymore. Time to be honest with herself and admit it.
She could have made it out of this slave brothel on her own, but knowing that she wasn’t alone in her struggle, that he came for her, comforted her more than a carefully planned life ever could.
Trusting that she could rely on him, that whatever they faced, as long as they were together, they would succeed, was what she had been yearning for this entire time.
Who knew she would find this in her enemy?
She didn’t want to think about the past or her revenge. She just wanted to stay in his arms and feel. Was it desire? Or something deeper?
She felt she needed him, but that he also needed her. Their closeness went beyond survival. There was more to this feeling than simple dependence.
Her heart calmed when he was around, especially when he held her like this. But her heart also raced when he flashed that roguish smile at her and made her body hot with his unabashed sexuality.
His presence both soothed and enticed her.
He made her feel things she’d never felt before .
Don’t think. She did too much of that. Just let the feelings take her.
Let them guide her, and wherever they led would be new territory, a discovery.
Feeling this way wasn’t as scary as she’d made it out to be before.
Normally, she’d be terrified of letting go, not having a plan ahead, and riding on a breeze to see where it took her.
But being here, safe in his arms, anything felt possible.
Madam Zaya had bled out onto the floor. Her first kill. But the thought was far away from her, as if on a distant horizon.
The nobles and all others had already fled. She was back to the murk and violet crystals of the Evergloom.
Briza then ran up to them, followed by her brother and the other mercenaries. “You’re safe,” she said, placing her hands on her knees as a big sigh of relief left her mouth. “Kasmyr,” she called behind her. “She’s alright.”
Kasmyr ran up from behind Briza, his face bright. He was unable to contain his happiness. He then saw Aelrie in Shikra’s arms and stopped in his tracks. His gaze falling to the ground, he shrugged his shoulders in a show of indifference and turned his back to them.
Briza gave her brother a suspicious look and then walked over to Aelrie and whispered, “Pay no mind to that. He was very worried about you.” She leaned in closer, “I think he has a crush on you.”
Aelrie giggled with Briza. She then glanced up at Shikra. “I can stand.”
“You have no shoes,” Shikra replied. “The ground is slippery. ”
Briza froze; her arms hung limp at her side, her mouth opened. She was staring at something ahead of her.
Aelrie slipped from Shikra’s arms, and her feet touched the ground. He tried to catch her, but she ducked to avoid him. She knew who it was that stunned Briza into silence and needed to see their reunion firsthand.
Darranyae walked toward them between her brother and his guard. She wore her brother’s amethyst cape draped around her shoulders. She was staring at something in front of her. There was a question on her face, as if she did not trust what she saw.
“Briza?” Her voice was heavy with hesitation as she stopped and leaned her head to the side.
“Yes,” Briza answered, choking up. “Darranyae, my love.”
They ran for each other and embraced. Both were so happy and excited they didn’t know what to do with each other, but after they had calmed down, they held their hands out to touch their palms together. “Just like the old days,” Briza said.
Darranyae sniffed back tears and laughed. “I looked for you. They told me you came here.”
“You came here looking for me! Why did you do that?” Briza’s voice rose. “And what are you wearing? Don’t tell me …”
“Madam Zaya said she’d tell me where you went if only I participated in the auction… I didn’t care. I had to find you!”
“But I care. Don’t ever do anything like that ever again. ”
“Yes, it was foolish of me, I know.”
“Silly girl,” Briza chided.
“I was always a silly girl, you knew this.”
“My silly girl.” Briza dipped her head down and kissed Darranyae on her lips.
“Darranyae, come, let’s go.” Her brother pulled her away, severing the kiss.
“No,” Darranyae protested, taking her arm back. “I just found her again; I’m not leaving her.”
“Go,” Briza then said to Darranyae’s surprise. “I will stay and clean up here.”
“Then, what will happen to you?”
“Don’t worry, my love,” Briza said and tapped her forehead against Darranyae’s. “I will find you again.” Briza then took a deep breath and broke from Darranyae, but not without giving one last, long look into her eyes. “Take her home,” she said to Draven as she turned to him.
“No, I won’t go.” Darranyae fought her brother’s further attempts to lead her away. “Stop forcing me to go.”
But Briza had turned her back on them. “Go!” she yelled as she turned to face Darranyae. Tears were streaming down her face. “Trust in me,” she said in a more soothing voice. “We will be together again. I need to know that you are safe, or I cannot do what I must now.”
Darranyae still fought her brother, although less forcibly, but her tears did not stop. Aelrie tried to get a look at Briza, but her face was turned, and she started up the stairs, headed back to the brothel .
“Come, we must go as well.” Shikra took her by the arm.
“But what about Briza?”
“We must leave this place.” Shikra didn’t answer her question about Briza and picked her up again.
He carried her down the path that led from the brothel.
Darranyae and her brother were ahead of them, but there were no other travelers on the path and no creatures stirred.
The air was still and silent. The giant phosphorescent mushroom trees that lined the path emitted soft blue and violet lights that reflected off the dank rock walls and ground, wet and shimmering like a stone courtyard after a late fall rain shower.
“Why would Briza do that?” Just when she reunited with Darranyae. “We can’t let her.”
“Yes, we can, and we must.” Shikra picked up his pace despite the slippery stone beneath him.
They caught up to Darranyae and her brother on the path.
She gave a quick glance at Darranyae’s face as they passed by.
She didn’t even notice Aelrie. Her look was blank, and she seemed rather tired, her mind miles away from her gaze.
“Why did Briza tell Darranyae to go with her brother? Why couldn’t they be together?” Aelrie asked Shikra after they had made it a ways away from Darranyae and her retinue.
“As I told you before, life in the Evergloom is harsh and cruel. Sometimes sacrifices must be made.”
“And what sacrifice was that?”
But Shikra did not answer her. They passed a bend in the path that looked down into a valley of sorts below. It was a familiar view, the underground lake with the dock, near the mercenaries’ camp. This time, they came in from the other end.
“We’re going to take the ship, right?”
Shikra nodded.
Then, this was it. She was truly on her way to Myrkheim, a place no Light Elf had ventured to before, at least not willingly.
Her thoughts roamed to Darranyae and Briza, and she said a silent prayer for them to see each other again.