Continuation. Even while running, I cannot shake off the rising anger I feel in my chest. “Reclaim what is rightfully his? Those goods were never his to begin with, that assheaded noble! He is fooling nobody!” As what I have witnessed keeps repeating itself in my head, that familiar feeling in my hands returns. Though there is a hint of panic because my father’s life could be in danger, I have to stop dead in my tracks when my anger boils into rage, and my palms begin to feel hotter than usual. I tremble. I do not think I’ve felt this angry since the night Sapphire was slain. “That bloody BASTARD!” I shout, exuding my feelings and the ever-growing fire I feel inside me. My hands and arms are set aflame, except 'tis not red nor orange in color, like when I normally conjure fire at will… They are blue, and comparing it to the heat I naturally feel when I uqse fire spells, this one feels hotter. Despite my confusion and my emotions, I turn my hands and arms over and over, watching
Going on a raid alone is still unsettling for me in spite of being completely capable of doing it. But leaving for a scouting mission is making me feel more anxious than a raid! I will not be stealing anything in person, so why do I feel like my heart is about to burst out of my chest?! “I don’t think I have felt this scared before,” I mumble to myself, my voice shaky as I near the cobblestone footpath that leads to my father’s manor. “You are just scouting, you shall just be scouting… Gathering information. I will be gathering information!” I take a deep breath. “You will be in— well not in, but near— the blasted manor, and you are out of the place before you even know about it! You can do this, me!” With newfound energy, I quicken my pace and stop short just before I step out and onto the path. Crouching behind some bushes, I observe two guards in front of the gatehouse’s portcullis having a conversation in the dimness. I’m too far away to hear them, so I sneak by beyond the tre
Ingenuity is the one thing I thought Eadmond Davidson would at least have, as the commencing Lord of Augborough… because he seemed like he had the potential to be different from his predecessors. But never would I have thought that he would be just as cruel, merciless, and insensitive as his coxcomb father Edgar. The brunette and I were able to follow my sister’s murderer and his wee army of men to one of the villages we had continually stolen from in the past— and the very one that we had not yet given a share of stolen goods from the manor since we decided to begin observing the nobles’ next moves. This was supposed to be the next place we would give the stolen food stocks to. “‘Tis a good thing I got to you in time,” Maia whispers as we hide beyond the density of the forest’s edge, observing the men in armor announce their arrival and the reason why they arrived in the first place. “We would never have known where my father's right-hand man will start this ‘hunt’. He does not see
“Now is not the time to be indulging in horseplay, old man,” I state as I continue following an excited Daw down deeper into the caverns of the hideout. The path seems to only be accessible through the training grounds, though I must admit that I have never noticed its entrance the entire time I have been in this organization. “I could have been using this time to improve my aim instead of... whatever this is you are doing. Where are you taking me?” “Today is an important day, Clemence,” he replies, raising the oil lamp he is holding to light our way through yet another maze of tunnels. There are torches hung about on the walls, some of which are already lit. “I am about to show you an Unkindness tradition that goes back.” A tradition? “So, is that why nobody was lounging about in the common and dining area? There is this celebration going on?” “Hm, something similar to that.” “It makes sense. Well, t’was odd for me because that place is usually bustling with the young ones and th
“And that is another one,” I mutter to myself, cautiously pouring the hot concoction into yet another vial. This batch filled fewer bottles compared to the first batch I made. “That makes… eight, nine, ten… eleven, all in all. Hm, will this be enough, though?” “Severin, we are making those for emergency escapes,” Maia says, interrupting my chain of thought. “Not dazing the entire borough. That is more than enough, o’ magical man-witch.” I look up and scrunch my nose at her teasing, putting down the pot to seal the bottle in my hand with its cork. “Firstly, I have told you countless times now: I am a conjuror, not a witch! There is a difference.” “I wonder where you learned that term from.” “Secondly, you can never be too prepared for anything and everything. How is the map of the manor going, dagger-lady?” She ignores my attempt at teasing her back and instead scribbles something down, eyes flicking from one part of the hand-drawn map to another. Well, that was embarrassing… “Ma
Never have I ever imagined that I would be this beaten and battered after the organization’s so-called “annual tradition” … I thought I was going to die in The Pit. As I drag myself to my rightful tent in another part of the resting area, which is right next to this small fissure up on the scraggy wall in one of the cavern chambers, exhaustion practically washes over me like the water from a waterfall flowing over my head. I need to get out of these damned clothes… Squeezing the remaining water out of my hair and the ends of my garments, I make it to my leather-lined tent, strip myself down of my water-drenched clothes, and wring some more liquid out of it. I take off my shoes as well and set them aside. “Cold… cold… 'tis so damn cold,” I grumble, shuddering as I peek out of the tent’s flaps before throwing my drenched, lacerated clothing off to the side of the cavern. I can feel myself shivering down to my bones. “I can practically freeze my bosoms off…” I light the remaining cand
Ever since I left the central village, all that has been on my mind is looking for her. I am distressed, exhausted, and beginning to feel like this long, long search for my beloved friend is becoming futile. The look on Eustace’s face as he and the other victims were set alight has been burned into my mind, haunting me even while I sleep… A few nights ago, I screamed myself awake after seeing the skin on the frail boy's face melt away like a lit tallow candle, only to realize t’was all an awful dream, and I may or may not have disturbed some of the guests in the neighboring inn chambers. Wyatt was devastated when we watched him struggle amid the rising flames; I can only imagine how Maia would have felt if she saw him roast to death… Gods, it was terrible. The Davidsons are terrible! I am really wishing that Maia could end them off faster, but with the current situation, I’m more afraid for her and her life… I do not even remember how long I’ve been travelling— going through Au
That same day… Who, in all the heavens above and the hells below, was that blonde bastard?! He not only almost ruined today’s plans— he put Maia’s life in danger, as well! Unable to suppress my anger down at the man who called out the brunette’s name out in public, I furiously undo my cloak and throw it at my bed upon our return to the dug-out. “My deepest apologies, Severin,” I hear her speaking from behind me as she closes off the entrance, cutting off the cold wind from outside when she secures its ends to the weights. “I know you’re angry—” Angry?! I am bloody incensed! I need not think about using my abilities to end that man! “—But I did not expect to see my childhood friend in the same village, either!” “That was him? We could have died by The Order’s hands back in that village, and it would have been all his fault,” I reply snappishly, turning to find her slowly doffing her shoulder cape. I calm down a wee bit when I see the brunette’s contrite expression. Taking a d