“Let us go.” “Huh?” I ask, confused. I’m in the middle of cleaning my daggers with a spare cloth when Severin comes out of the pit house donning his hood. “To where?” “To the second village I stole from,” he replies, throwing me my shoulder cape. “Come on, now. No time to dawdle.” That is rather odd, but I shall go with it. As I return the daggers to their rightful place, I wear the belt around my waist and follow the cabbage-headed man into the forest. It has been two days since my accidental poisoning. If not for the elixir he claims he “made with ease and not at all panicked whilst making it”, I would have succumbed to the poison’s effects, and lost my life. What was strange about the entire occurrence was he expected me to feel pain, since he mentioned that the poison should have attacked my heart… But I felt completely fine afterwards, not even weak! He also babbled about seeing a demon in his sleep, but I believed he must have had a nightmare, in fear that he could have end
Oh, off with my head. For the next few days we have been training, after I had taught Maia how to thieve— well, something like that, I came to realize that I’ve been stealing glances at her, especially when she is minding her own business. I sincerely hope that she doesn’t think that I’m being an absolutely despicable and perverted dalcop, but there’s something about her that is… appealing to me, aside from her physical appearance. I’ve started noticing the tiniest of details about her. For instance, she beholds views and gazes at objects that pique her interests, or “are pleasing to her eyes”, as she claims. When she recently suggested buying goods with the large amount of money she stole, I watched her bite her lip and stare longingly at a miscellany of blankets, sheets, and clothes made of either wool or linen hung about outside a merchant’s house. I insisted that she could buy one of the items she wanted if she deemed it necessary, and the smile on her face was beyond compare. S
Continuation. “Really?!” I exclaim, unable to hide my shock. “Really… what, Maia?” he replies, tilting his head in befuddlement. I feel so sorrowful for this man— losing every person he loved in his life? Fate has been so hard on him. “Yo— your other sister… is dead?” “Sadly, yes. I think you have already met her, actually.” Fear suddenly strikes, making the hairs on my arms rise. “Oh my— what do you mean?” “Do you remember the grave you saw in the clearing? The one lined with blue and white wildflowers?” Realization dawns on me. “OH MY GODS, I STEPPED ON SAPPHIRE?!” Severin visibly flinches at my sudden outbresten. My hands fly to my face, dreadfully remembering what had happened the day I got poisoned by mindlessly eating monkshood berries. The green-haired man opens his mouth to say something, but the words just flow out of my mouth like a raging river. “O-on the day you found me in the clearing, I was predominantly training on my own! I had accidentally stepped on some
“Either we do this to make things simpler, or make things difficult, Yelena,” importunes the man dressed in fine red, blue, and gold garments, jabbing an adorned forefinger at me through the bars of my cell. The red-jeweled gold ring wreathing his finger looks so familiar… but I cannot remember where I’ve seen it. “If you do not have answers on my daughter’s whereabouts by the time your masters return, you are done, wretch.” With this, Lord Eadmond stares daggers at me, amber eyes squinting in the dim candlelight, before leaving with a scoff. ‘Tis another day in the dungeon, and the only thing keeping me warm and giving me a wee sense of protection in this dark, damp, and lonely chamber is Clemence’s red, silk gown— the very one she used to hide my bare body with from the condemnatory stares of her family. I truly do not know where my beloved has gone— after the guards ruthlessly threw me into this cell, I've been unaware of what has been happening up above. If the Davidsons themselv
A month later. “Oh, you want a buffeting?” I say aloud menacingly, flaunting my daggers in a reverse grip with the edges out at a tree I have randomly selected to be my “opponent”. I’m practicing the moves I learned to do during spars with Severin. “You want to fight me? Ah, no… You are unworthy of being my opponent. Hm? What did you call me? Take this, then!” In a flurry of attacks, I strike the trunk of the tree, leaving cuts, marks, and dents on its dark, rough bark. I occasionally slip in a kick or two to make my battle against my imaginary opponent more realistic, but I only end up hurting myself. The dull sounds of metal meeting wood surround me with every hit I make, giving me a small sense of satisfaction as the sharp edges slice through the tough outer layer. I’ve become more nimble, more reactive… mayhap impulsive, even. This might be enough to put a stop to my father, but I must do more, I must continue to improve; not when it will be two people against an entire nobleman
Figuring out how this rock-like… thing… will be useful in creating a seal of protection is giving me a headache. This hardened clump of bluish-grey mud with an odd band made of sinew protruding out of it… What is it? Why is it like this? I’ve no idea what to do with this! Do I hang it around my neck? No, the band is too small, it weighs too much to be hung, and it is far too big to be kept hidden… What the hells should be done with this?! “Mayhap you should rest before continuing to lour at that rock, Severin,” the brunette seated right behind me states, hearing her continuously scribble something on the spare papers I’ve given her upon our return. “You seem like you are about to slay someone. Pray thee, don’t let your murderous intent out on me.” I whirl around, slightly affronted. The sight of Maia’s focused look and damp, unbraided hair astonishes me, and makes me look away almost instantly. I cannot allow myself to be distracted right now. “H-how is your writing going?” I a
Alas, 'tis another day working alone in the village… There have been no signs of my beloved friend, not even after the news about the death of Lord Edgar a month ago. I do not believe it one bit that he had died due to a disease, nor of natural causes, despite the knights’ announcements that day— they’re hiding something, and I know it is because Maia caused his death… I can feel it! T’was exactly a sennight after she left that the lord died; it is the only thing that makes sense. Maia had successfully slayed a Davidson. As terrified as I was for her when she was insistent to leave the village all alone, I was filled with pride upon discovery of a noble's death, and I am quite glad that t'was the old fart who passed… eradicating him must've helped Maia get one step closer to achieving her goal. As I roll the cart across the village to deliver barrels of grain to the village’s brewer, a couple of villagers greet me on my way, asking the same questions they always ask me since the day
Under no circumstances, at all, have I ever thought that getting attacked in broad daylight would only happen in stories… And yet, hither I am, next to Severin, whom I’ve never seen look so… calm and inscrutable … at an armed, trouble-making bunch who presumably followed us from today's raid. I defensively keep one of my hands hovering over my dagger’s grip, ready to unsheathe it the moment one of these weaponed men makes a single move. My other hand is clutching a sack containing what is supposed to be today’s meal, and I guess I… have to put this aside, for now. We do not want this to go to waste now, do we? “Have you ever been in a fight like this, Severin?” I whisper to the green-haired man next to me, who is standing with one foot forward. I can see his other hand hidden, fingers stiffly curled inwards and ready to conjure an element. “The kind of fight where you are outnumbered and you lack the experience?” “No,” he whispers back, his gaze unwavering. I catch his eyes watchi