Rolling purple clouds gather above the city, melding together with the darkness of night. The wind picks up, pushing against the windows which rattle in their frames. The world goes dark as the clouds cover everything in sight.I open the door, but I remain at the threshold. No one is left on the streets, no one is brave or foolish enough to stay outside now. What many call around here “Nature’s Onslaught” is about to commence. The drops start to fall, and the oncoming storm blasts a heavy smell of rain into my nostrils. Tiny droplets splash against my face as my hair is blown back. Raindrops patter down on the cobblestone, forming a river running along the street.Tiny drops of water pour from the wet trees and plants in front of the smithy, causing the leaves to sway in rhythm with the thunderous beat of the rain.I’d tuck my hands into the pockets of my jacket for a bit of extra comfort if my fingers wouldn’t be needed to hold on to the sword. “Place it on the ground a few feet a
When I step into the smithy, Aslan greets me with a smile, his ponytailed beard brushing against his thick neck. "Well done, lad. I was afraid you’d not gonna make it back. You look pale. Have you seen a ghost?"I chuckle, and a shiver runs through my chilled body. “You could say that.”I'm soaked to the bone, and I can barely hear myself speak because of the water in my ears.Aslan laughs. "What happened? You didn't go after it, did you? Maybe that's where all the missing people go. After the ghost."“I’ll go change my clothes and rest for a bit until the storm passes,” I say.Aslan nods and pats my shoulder as I pass by him. After gathering obsidian and Storm Clay, fearing for my life during the fight between Bree and her henchmen, fucking Bree into submission, helping Aslan with the sword, trudging through the storm, and watching a goddess masturbating, I’d say I deserve some rest. I take off my jacket and set it aside to dry. Then I remove my tunic and pants, leaving only my sh
When I wake, light shines through the small corner window. My neck and back ache, stiff from dozing off too much on the thin sleeping mat. I stretch out a bit, yawning and rubbing my eyes. A need for coffee hits me hard. Too bad on Kerenza, there is none— or at least not in Zhenaria. People here have never heard of it. Maybe I’ll get better luck if I ever leave this kingdom. Zhenarians have their own special kind of tea— Morning Brew— that is supposed to be a morning shot of energy. I haven’t tried it yet, but from Wrenn’s memories I know it doesn’t suit his taste buds. Legs wobbly and eyes half-closed, I stagger to the main room of the smithy. The old man is there, sitting at the table with a cup of Morning Brew, and his gaze is locked onto something in front of him. As I shift my attention to whatever he’s looking at, my eyes widen and my sleepiness dissipates. On the table, in a fine red leather scabbard, lies a sword. The sheath is crafted with skill, though that’s not what c
I step back, trying to keep my distance from the rusty blade waving menacingly inches away from my nose. A foot intentionally placed behind my ankle sends me to the ground. I land on my backside with a loud thud. Okay, this is getting a bad turn. I can practically feel fear freezing my bones. I look at my sword, and my fingers tighten their grip around the hilt. It won't do me any good. I can barely swing it. What chance would I have to defend myself against so many thugs?The thieves’ leader steps forward. With a smug smirk, he looms over me, the rusty blade raised high before lowering slowly until its point reaches my neck. “You’re not much of a fighter, are you?” To underline his mockery, he lets out a huff of scorn. “Your bulky frame isn’t of any help if you have no skill. So, are you going to die for a sword or hand it over to us?”Not giving them the obsidian sword may be a one-way ticket to a painful death. My hunch is that having my flesh ripped apart by a rusty blade would
We walk along the streets of Bree's new turf. These parts of the city seem unnaturally quiet and empty. Not a single soul is in sight. The doors of the shops are shut, and the windows are covered with thick curtains.“What do you think is going on?” I ask. Bree glances around before continuing with her silent stride.“Nothing really.” Eyeing me, she explains, “Whistling is how gangs in town communicate. They call each other and signal when and where to set up ambushes. People know something bad will happen shortly, and they are wise enough to stay indoors for their safety and close shops to protect their merchandise. You could’ve noticed this if you weren't so busy running around like a headless chicken.”“Point taken,” I mutter.Strolling through the streets with Bree at my side, I feel strangely at ease, even in the midst of such an eerie silence. It’s good to have someone walking next to me, although it probably has more to do with my subconscious wanting her company. But I'm not
“Oh, look at that,” I say, pointing toward the golden palace gates and the guards standing at attention. “We’ve arrived. I should hurry up and find the lord who requested this sword.”Waving my hand clutched around the red scabbard in a kind of awkward farewell, I slowly turn away and rapidly depart, praying that Bree won't follow me. I don’t think the palace guards would let her in anyhow. Not looking back, I rush toward the palace, hoping I’ll be let in without any problems. As I get closer, I'm in awe at the royal guards in full regalia. Ornate armors gleam in the sunlight, the likes of which I have never seen before. Intricate designs decorate their helmets, and the hilts of their swords are encrusted with gems. They seem to take pride in their position as decorative elements rather than actual security. In my book, flaunting grandeur and prestige to impress is not necessary when your purpose is to serve and protect.As I approach, one of the guards glances at me without shifti
Once I’m on the second floor, I pause and listen carefully. Aside from some birds chirping in the distance, I hear nothing. That's a good sign. Unfortunately, the window is closed and can be opened only from the inside. No other way to get in, I have to climb up to the next floor.I continue my ascent, looking around only once I reach the third floor. A balcony with railings stands right next to me, so I move past the sill. Keeping my eyes on the window to make sure no one sees me, I climb onto the ledge. Holding firmly onto the circular shape, I use it as a handhold to maneuver myself over the railing and land on the balcony. From here, I can see the entire courtyard, in which I spot a lady. Her attention is focused on the flowers blooming in the garden. She moves her hands over the blossoms with soft strokes, occasionally bending down to smell a flower. Hopefully, she won't look up.A pleased smile spreads across my face when I find the balcony door open. I take a deep breath and
“I’m going to release you,” I whisper as I pull my hand away from her mouth. “Please, don’t make a sound, Naomi.”Still confused, she shakes her head. Her eyes flicker back and forth around the room, examining it for any potential threats. I feel a pang of guilt for making her so tense. To really emphasize that staying silent is so important, I lay my index finger over her lips, keeping it there for a few seconds, before gesturing toward the slightly ajar door.Her eyebrows draw together in a worried expression as she takes a long breath. After a moment, she nods. I let go of her and step away. Naomi stares at me, her confusion evident in her wide eyes. She moves her hands towards her chest and touches her breasts, ensuring that her clothing is properly straightened. She is much shorter than me, and from my vantage point, her cleavage is right on display. I want to stare at her barely covered tits, but two women and a strawberry fill every corner of my mind.The scene in the other