The blows didn't stop. Even as her unconscious body slumped down, even as her limbs went limp. The Fleur mace's strikes never let up. The sound of their impact echoed through the empty street.

It was the sound of barefooted steps in the fields after a night of rain and a morning of sunlight.

I tried to block it out. I wanted the wincing to stop. I wanted the sound of the smashed bones not to bother me. I wanted not to feel for her.

But my eyes were always quick to water, and I still had a heart.

My gaze remained averted, and the sound still found its way through, no matter how hard I pressed my fingers into my ears.

Cromel enjoyed the violence. He cheered on his man to strike harder. And his hollow laugh, emptier than the blue sky, annoyed me.

The sound stopped, and I peeked out of my cover. I followed the trail of blood that formed, and it led to her battered body.

A man had his left leg pressed over her chest. His right hand clenched the leather grip of a mace that dripped blood down on his leather shoe.

He took heavy rapid breaths and used his left arm to wipe the sweat that covered his face in his green canvas cloak.

Cromel stepped forward and gestured for him to move back. Then he stared down at the battered willer, and waited.

I got worried, not because I feared for her. But I didn't understand what he was waiting for.

He kept smacking his lips, and I caught a glimpse of a shine in his eyes.

It looked like he was waiting for something, ready to finish his conversation.

Did he not know who the stream of blood that flowed between his legs belonged to?

Behind him, the group of men that were with him had a look of worry. Many glanced at each other, and then they all looked at the cloaked man.

The man took a step back, standing beside the red-haired harlot. The unkempt beard that flowed from his face moved a little.

"My moon and stars, what are you waiting for?" She said with a voice weak and muffled.

Cromel lifted index in the air and hushed the rising murmurs.

"Any time now..."

The sound of the whispering men died down. No wonder, with the amputated foot of their friend still warm.

My arm remained pressed on my growling stomach. I tried to tighten the rope that I wrapped around it, but that was as tight as it got.

Moments passed, and nothing happened. Cromel waited, and all I could was wait with him in the hopes of snatching the item.

Last night's gamble failed. And all I had to show for it was a tired body and heavy eyes.

I thought that settling for picked bones was the last line I had to cross. But I could tell that my body was a short fuse. And the flame that ignited in me when the object flashed in my eyes was going to burn through it soon.

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

There were two ways I could get my hands on it. And they both depended on what Cromel did with her, and how much I can fight off the encroaching sleepiness.

With my eyes heavy and dry. I thought I was daydreaming when I saw the stream of blood stop abruptly. But when it reversed its course and started flowing backward I knew it was no dream.

A heavy damp mist filled the narrow street. And wind caused the long hair I had tucked behind my ears to ruffle out. I was inches away from the corner, and I panicked as I thought it would give me away. But what seemed like a thick blue veil formed between me and Cromel obstructing vision. I scrambled to tie my hair strands together and throw it to the side.

I didn't understand what was happening, and I couldn't think much either. The sound of the whistling wind made sure of that. So I remained torn once again. Do I use this commotion to sneak away and continue looking for scraps, or do I stay and see this through to the bitter end?

The wind carried with it the taste of the northern mountain's whitish rocks. And I opened my mouth to relish the taste once again. That's when the cherti bug that jump-scared me earlier got sucked inside my mouth and caused me to choke.

I pounded my chest and tried to cough it out of my throat. But when it kept buzzing around in my mouth I got fed up and munched it down. It was crunchy and warm and tasted like a tree bark.

The mist started to lessen as soon as I finished my meal. And through the thick veil, two figures appeared, one of them was slouched over at the waist.

I heard the sound of a frenzied laugh mixed with that of retching and spitting followed.

Little by little, my vision improved and I could see what was happening. But seeing and believing are two different things.

Where did it all go? The yellowish bone that was sticking out of her arm, and the caving of the blow that smashed her skull. I found it hard to believe that this was the same person and not a twin or a look-alike.

She struggled to remain standing. The tendons of her legs were still twisted. The upper part of her foot dragged across the mud when she tried to take a few steps back.

"Stay—Stay back" Her words slurred as her jaw kept getting locked out of place.

She kept trying to put it back in place, but her arms didn't rise above her chest.

"You, you will pay, all, for this"

She reached around her waist, and searched around her for her sack, finding it a few paces away. She started making her way towards it, all the while muttering "Your face, you, my family, the alumni, Caehdel"

Cromel couldn't take her eyes off her, he snickered like a maniac as she tried to threaten him.

"Ha ha ha, I knew it! I knew this was my lucky day"

"How many times can you do this? Can you grow a new finger, an entire arm, a pair of lungs?"

"If regular organs from the trash of the slums could score us hundreds of regni. Imagine how much we could get from a willer, and not just any willer! But a renewal one!"

"Don't—Stay back!" she yelled out. Her haste to reach the sack caused her to slip and she continued crawling towards it.

When her hand finally reached the blue knapsack, it couldn't budge it. And she screamed in pain as Cromel crushed her fingers between his foot.

"Don't scream so much, they'll heal soon anyway." He chuckled.

"You'll have plenty of time to scream later anyway." He ushered his men who rushed forward and tied up her legs.

"Careful with her arms, break them if you have to. Don't let her use any of her spells."

She tried to shake off the man who grabbed hold of her leg as another tightened the rope. She trashed around and strained her throat yelling. She begged the few gathered spectators to help her, pleading that they come to her aid.

What did she expect? No one was going to lift a finger to help her. It was much easier for them to close their eyes and ignore her suffering.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears and her mouth was eventually gagged, and that's when our eyes first met.

I didn't expect her to have that look. I know what fear looked like, the sight of panic and desperation. And that wasn't what I saw at that moment.

I held my gaze on her ruby eyes and saw the contempt they held. It wasn't just directed at the man who ruined her body and were dragging her away. Nor the treacherous guide who was still trying to get his fee. But all the creation that was witness to her suffering.

And at me, for watching it all unfold behind this bleak corner.

But I didn't mind it. I didn't feel sorry for her at the time.

No one had helped me in my time of need, no one would spare the time for a starved child covered by the slushy snow.

"I'm sure that someone else will help"

"I've got other things to do"

They looked at me like a pest and quickened their paces as they strode past. A few more steps, just a few more seconds, and that problem will all but disappear from their minds.

No, I didn't pity her plight. All I could think of at the moment was the shiny key lodged deep into her hair that everyone had failed to notice. And what I needed to do to get my hands on it.