Muffled shouts echoed through the cramped streets of Barakat outside. A crimson hue hung on Kydin, accentuating the fresh blood sprayed across his clothing. Once again Christi was face to face with Kydin, a man she should’ve viewed as an enemy. Kydin sheathed his blade as he paced around the room. Not once did Christi take her eye off him. This man had been affable, yes, but he was still dangerous.
“Why are you here?” she asked him. He turned, a grin forming upon his face. She had thought she had learnt how to identify phoney sentiment; Adriana she had never trusted, but Kydin, he was different; truthfully, she didn’t know what to make of this man. Was he friend or foe?
“I merely wanted to say hello again. Our last few chats have been so very enjoyable. A good conversation partner is hard to come by. I certainly was not expecting, however, that this house call of mine would instead be a prison visit.”
Christi averted her eyes, glancing to the side. Kydin gathered a handful of gears and cogs strewn on her desk and let it slip through his fingers. Baby blue eyes fixated on her, they prodded, urging her to share.
“So? Why have they locked you up?”
“I’m not locked up; it’s…” the rest of the sentence eluded her. He was right; she was imprisoned. The truth stung again. These last few days had been nothing but that, sting after sting.
Kydin grabbed the stool positioned next to the desk and planted himself in front of her. His lips pursed as his eyes bounced around the room.
“Guards stationed inside and outside the house. Confined to a single room, alone. What would you label this then?”
Christi sat in silence; she couldn’t find the words to respond. Kydin leaned forward slightly, his face softened.
“Little Vlam, I merely want to help you. I can’t do that if you won’t speak.”
Something pricked her hand. Unconsciously she had withdrawn Korill’s pendant amidst Kydin’s questions. Why did she continue to shun this man? Hadn’t she killed too?
“How can I trust you?” she asked, her eyes rising to meet him. Malice, scrutiny, and resentment—none of those horrible sentiments pervaded him. There was but one thing. Something she had failed to discover in the population of this town. An understanding.
“You can’t, but look where your trust in this town got you. Isolated and outcast. It’s not about trusting me. It’s about recognising the truth. Anriel will never accept us; you’ve seen that, haven’t you?”
The truth reared its ugly head again. Try as she might to ignore it, evade it, even smother it at times. It didn’t matter. Every time it prevailed, that terrible fact. She was Fheitgr, and nothing could change that.
“I don’t fit in,” she whispered.
Kydin drew closer; he exhaled deeply.
“Unfortunately you never will. Not here at least. The decision is yours, child. Decide. Embrace your true nature or continue to nurture a lie.”
He rose to his feet and outstretched a hand. Christi blinked away warm tears. This was who she was; she was tired of pretending otherwise. For the first time in these last few days, she made a decision of her own volition. One that felt right. She took Kydin’s hand. His grin broadened into a sincere smile.
“Come, let’s be rid of this place.”
Outside her room lay the corpses of two men. A deep gash ran the length of their chests. The stairs creaked as they descended, and wisps of smoke billowed from the living room. Below, more corpses littered the hardwood floor, bearing the same grievous wounds.
Deep, raspy breaths sounded from the couch. From Ratchet. Christi's eyes darted towards Kydin. She had made her decision, but that didn’t mean men like Ratchet deserved to die. He was one of the few who truly cared for her.
“Don’t worry, I like the old man. He’ll live.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Piotr, Sam, and Ratchet didn’t deserve her hatred. They had tried. That was more than she could say for most.
“Christi,” Ratchet wheezed as he attempted to rise from the couch. He slumped back. Was this really the right decision? The thought crept into her mind. Kydin’s hand settled on her shoulder.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“Come, little Vlam.”
“I…”
Kydin’s grip tightened.
“You’ve chosen your path. Summon that courage you held upstairs. Half measures benefit no one. Think back to why you really accepted my hand. You have a goal, yes? Then commit to it.”
Christi thought back to the pier, how liberating that fleeting rush of power had been. Kydin was right; she sought strength, and he could grant that. Otherwise, how else could she hope to defeat the likes of the bull or the other hours?
The least she could do is convey that properly. She looked into Ratchet’s sorrowful eyes. Now wasn’t the time to waver.
“I’m sorry. Tell Piotr and Sam that I’m thankful for all they’ve done, but this is me.”
She turned.
“I’ll take care of her,” Kydin nodded to Ratchet. Together they stepped out onto Valence Street. The door shut behind them. This was a fresh start for her, an opportunity to be the person she had always wanted to be since that day four years ago. No more looking back; she would only look forward. Towards her future.
↭↭↭
Chaos surrounded Kydin, chaos he had sown. A cacophony of shouts and screams rode the gentle wind that fluttered by. Wind that reeked of a familiar smell, burning wood. Kydin strode forward as the girl trailed behind. Up ahead, clustered together, was a group of twelve guardsmen. Men who foolishly obstructed his path.
“Halt! You two are under arrest. Comply immediately, lay down your arms, and come with us!” The lead guardsman, a grizzled-looking man, barked at them. Belts clicked in unison as the group brandished their saps, blunt instruments that served well in combating Fheitgr.
One of the ten pointed directly at the girl. “That’s her! That’s the girl who broke Rahl’s jaw!” he howled. Kydin turned to the girl. A deep scowl twisted her features. She looked furious.
“Did you really?” he asked her.
The girl nodded in response. Laughter erupted from Kydin, much to the chagrin of the guardsmen. He smiled at her. What had the old man called her again? Christi, that was it. It was good to call people by their name; it invoked a sense of respect.
“Good, that’s a start. Leave this to me, Christi. Pay attention. You’ll learn a thing or two.”
“I won’t repeat myself again! Surrender!” the grizzled-looking guardsman shouted as he waved his sap at them. The guardsmen fell into a defensive stance. A V formation. Shields at the ready.
“You never had any intention of allowing us to surrender. Your overzealous actions betray you. Don’t worry; I never intended on surrendering anyway. Unfortunately for you, I need to show off a little.”
Kydin inhaled deeply and attuned his muscles. His cloak grew more taut, his body surged with power. With a sharp exhale, he broke into a tilted sprint.
The guardsmen remained in formation. The V formation was effective against Fheitgr opponents. The average warrior would charge ahead seeking the greatest challenge. Eager to prove their strength. Unfortunately for these men, Kydin wasn’t your average warrior.
He leapt through the air, cresting the men with ease, and landed at the rear of the formation. Quickly he swept the feet from under the two closest to him with a well-placed arcing low kick. Bones crunched as the first two folded beneath his strike. They would rise no more.
Reaching down, he plunged his fist into the paved road, cracking the surface, and gathered a fistful of rocks from the debris. With vehemence he cast the stony projectiles either side of him. Flesh met rock as the projectiles sunk into the eyes of a few. They clutched at their faces and slumped to the ground in a screaming heap.
Kydin stomped the men at his feet into the ground; he unsheathed his sword and pressed forward. He ran his blade through a terrified guardsman who had dropped his shield and sap. Kydin made a show of this man, in the most gruesome way he could imagine. He gutted the poor fool.
The remaining men began to falter; their formation and resolve faltered. One of the guardsmen’s faces flushed red with fury, jaw clenched as he charged forward. Kydin kicked the man in the groin and eliminated the fool quickly.
The guardsmen raged at his behaviour. Always the same tactic. First he would frighten, then he would anger. It was an effective strategy; nothing gave him greater satisfaction than offsetting a man’s composure in battle. It made fighting just that little bit more gratifying.
As he expected, the last five guardsmen thrashed forward. Two out in front with one taking the lead. He thrust his blade forward, plunging it into the closest man on hand. The second guardsman was undeterred; Kydin shoved the first man into the second. With his blade still buried deep, he flicked a switch, and the blade extended outwards. Two men stood skewered on Kydin’s blade.
The blade retracted into its short sword form with another flick of the switch. Bless Kartik, this blade was sweet, he grinned to himself.
Just three remained; they bunched up together. He smiled; it was a result of a crushing realisation that they were outmatched. It was time for the crescendo of this little performance.
Smoke fanned out at his feet as he exhaled. He veiled himself in smoke and summoned three other shades. A cloud of smoke exploded, obscuring him and his shades save for the white glowing eyes that peeked out. They charged forward.
The guardsmen steadied themselves. They rapped on their shields, steeling themselves. The shades blitzed forward.
“Wait, weren't there four shadows?” The lead guardsman realised too late.
Kydin scythed the men down as he landed behind in another great leap. It was over; he had won.
Ahhh, now this is what makes living truly worthwhile, he thought to himself as he basked in his victory.
↭↭↭
Christi couldn’t believe what she had just witnessed. Once again she was left in awe. Attunement Kydin had called it; it was a beautiful thing. Such surging strength, such graceful and lightning movement. She needed that.
Kydin looked towards Christi and smiled. Fresh splotches of crimson stained his face and torso. Another layer of red added to his canvas of violence.
“Well? Like what you see?”
Christi nodded firmly; he beckoned her onwards to the stables outside Valence Gate. They continued forward.
“I’ll teach what I know; come, we’ll return to camp for now. The men have been waiting to meet you.”
Christi turned back towards Barakat. Deep pillars of black smoke rose into the night sky amidst the town. Like the anger inside her, Barakat was burning. She heard the whinnying of an auteur behind her. Kydin sat perched atop the large animal. He outstretched his hand once again.
“Shall we be off then, little Vlam?”
“Yeah.” For the second time tonight, she took his hand once more. Not once did she look back at Barakat as they rode away.