Nothing could beat flight. Demadara was soaring through the air, kicking back every time she lost altitude to catapult herself forward. Her left hand rested on the Heart as she continued to draw power from it. Her master had been right, it truly had no end, none that she could reach at least.

The rough hills made way for trees on the ground underneath, and Demadara began to let herself drop down. A sinking feeling spread through her body. Getting into the air and staying there had been easy, but she still didn't quite know how to land.

Or how dense the thicket of treetops were. She broke through branch after branch, lost balance and started to wave her arms in terror as the ground got ever nearer. Demadara took a deep breath and exhaled, a breath of air with the force of a storm. It braced her fall, but she still landed face first, and screamed out in pain as her leg got twisted.

The pain was incredible, but nothing she had not endured before. With tear-stained eyes she stared down at her leg, the potruding bone. She had stitched up worse.

Once more she drew power from the Heart and laid her other hand on the bone, screaming out in pain. The energy surged through her body all the way to her fingertips. In her training she had healed minor cuts with magic, more difficult procedures required an intense knowledge of the human body to heal efficiently.

A grim smile spread across her lips as she clenched her teeth together. Efficiency was no concern for her anymore. A pale silver glow began to emamanate from her fingers and across her broken leg. It was a soothing feeling as it spread over and began to undo the damages. Bones moved back in place, tissue and muscles regrew and covered it anew until finally fresh, pale skin covered up her interior.

Demadara lifted her leg, stretching it. Everything was as it should be, and even her scars on the patch of new skin were gone. With a low groan she stood up and dusted off her cloak while looking around.

Before she had taken in all of her surroundings Demadara reached for her knife. This forest was lived in. Trails, pathways, cut branches. And a great trail of hooves. They were made by only single pairs of feet, about ten of them.

Taurs. A band of them. The trail was still fresh, and whatever ruins they left behind could rend something valuable for her. Before the sheer idea of running after a group of man-eating brutes would have never crossed her mind, but with the pulsing strength of the Heart Demadara did not even think twice.

The trail lead out of the woods and towards a small farm, guarded only by a shoulder-height stone wall. Demadara shook her head as she approached. Living alone and with this little protection was truly asking for it. And that they had gotten. The place was a blazing ruin, and Demadara quickly hid behind the wall at the sound of trampling hooves.

She peeked out and nearly recoiled in disgust. On the ground before the house laid two corpses, only identifiable by the fact that the woman´s clothes were torn much more thoroughly. Both lacked heads, with a trail of blood leading into the burning house. Two of the taurs were circling the premises.

They were prime, hideous specimens of their species. Towering above even the tallest of men and as wide as two they were a mass of hair and muscles, their heads a contorted mockery of a human face with the features of a bull. Like most godless misbreeds they considered themselves too powerful for needing armour, a neglect not shown in their weaponry. Their great axes and clubs were no works of art, but betrayed a crude efficiency.

Demadara clung tightly to her knife. She was much too early. If she ran off and waited until nightfall they would most likely have wandered off. Taurs did not care for coins, precious metals or food that was not meat. Whatever was spared the flames would be hers. She was already turning to leave when Demadara heard the scream come from the house. High pitched, filled with terror that had lost any shred of dignity. She had heard way too many like it.

Once more no thought crossed her mind. The memories flooded her mind and the surge of power from the Heart did the rest. Demadara dropped her bags and leapt across the low wall, just as the taur closest to her turned his back. These beasts were no Vault guards, in fact their lack of armour would only make her work easier than the heart already made it.

The screams, braying of the taurs and the fires covered her footsteps until she was close enough to leap once more. Onto the taurs back. Ignore screaming and thrashing, aim for the throat. Blood sprayed out as his scream turned to a pathetic gurgling of blood. Jump back, move on to the next.

The other taur had stomped over at the sound of his comrade, and was now rushing towards her, axe raised. Demadara´s hand clutched tightly onto the heart as her eyes began to glow white. Their eyes met and her lips formed a grin, the last sign for her foe that his luck had run out.

His steps became slower, the rage in his eyes turning to confusion and finally fear as his body halted to a standstill, refusing to obey him. Demadara pranced over to him. Another jump, a slash across the throat. The shine of her eyes faded and a dead, misshapen body fell to the floor.

With the outer guards dead she ran into the burning farmhouse. The ground floor was empty, the screams came from upstairs. She flew up the stairs, racing towards the room where she saw a taur, laying on a bed. Saw his head around the girls head.

Every muscle in her legs tensed up, every ounce of strength the Heart could give her she forced out to leap into the room. Her eyes met those of the girl, time stood still for a moment. Then the all too familiar sound of cracking bone filled the air as the taurs hand turned her head to paste.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Red. The colour was all she saw. And a roar was all her eyes could hear. Not of her prey, or some other animal, but her own.

Red, it was the colour the room was drenched in as she returned to her senses. The heat of magic radiated from her body, clouding her in evaporated sweat, but it did not matter. Knife in hand she ran down the stairs. Two had been in the room, two more she had killed outside. There were six more and she was not letting them get away.

As she ran out the main door Demadara saw a tall figure standing at the entry gate. No thoughts. Her body was an arrow as she raced towards it, blade raised.

It hit steel with a screech. She jumped back, and saw who was before her.

Her target had not been a taur, though his stature nearly made him look like one. Like them, he had a contempt for armour, his clothes were that of a common city folk, simple, wide and made for comfort. But he was no ordinary lost traveller.

Those did not produce a pile of six taur corpses, cut up into pieces.

"Now now, easy there." He smiled down at her as he shouldered his blade. "I almost hurt you there girl, you need to be a bit more careful." He sheathed his sword, which was almost the length of Demadara, and looked first at her, then the building. "Not from here, are you?"

Demadara had her knife disappear in her sleeve, her breathing ragged. Simply being in the presence of this man made her feel small, her hands were trembling. Aura users. The worst of the worst.

"I heard screams and, well." She pulled her hood further into her face. "I came too late."

The man shrugged and looked at the two corpses Demadara had produced. "Well still fast enough to catch them in the act. I've been following these bastards for a week now, and here you come and do near most of my work."

He reached down to a pouch on his belt and Demadara quickly took a step back. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and pulled out four gold pieces. "A bounty hunter of repute can hardly keep payment for prey he hasn't hunted, no? They're yours."

He threw them over, and his smile grew as she picked all four out of the air. "What's your name, traveller? It's good to know my competition."

Demadara was busy walking over to her bags and depositing her new treasures. "I'm no competition, I just tried to, tried to help." She slung the bags over her shoulder with a groan and turned back to face him. "But the name is Demadara, if you really need to know."

"Can't say I heard of you before, and I keep track of most folk worth knowing in these parts." He crossed his arms in front of his chest, enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"The name´s Grim, I try to keep order around these parts. Try." He looked across the burning farm with a sigh and grabbed a shovel from the little toolshed by the side. "Can't be everywhere at once sadly.

Grim began to dig a hole near the wall. Demadara sat down atop the wall, her head leaned to the side. "What're you doing?"

He didn't stop in his work while answering. "Digging a grave of course, 's the least I can do for them. They were good people, invited me for dinner a few times and their daughter was a beauty. Had I been ten years younger I'd not have minded settling down here just for her."

Demadara´s nails scraped across the stone. "She's, I was not fast enough." Her head sank down.

She felt his heavy hand on her shoulder, and looked up into his face. Nobody could play straight after seeing her. She waited for him to recoil, to step back, or at least show some disgust or fear at the state of her face. All she could see was a cold, burning anger.

"It's not your fault. You did your best." The certainty of his voice was mirrored in his bright purple eyes. "And care to tell me who did that to you? If you didn't get to them already that is." He turned back to his work, the hole was already near six feet deep.

Demadara was speechless for a moment. Finally she pulled her hood down, letting the gentle breeze run across her scar-covered face. "Best hardly matters, she is still dead. As are those people.." Her left once more rested down on the Heart. "It took much, but they're down under."

Grim had finished the hole, and disappeared into the house. Demadara could not watch as he carried the girl´s body toward the grave, nor as he laid her parents onto the earth next to her.

"Care to help?" His words had her eyes flutter open again. She looked to the side and gritted her teeth. "I can't imagine you're tired already and need help of someone like me."

In reply he threw her a shovel and got over to the other side of the grave. "It's not about helping me, but them. Maybe it'll give you some closure."

She stared down at the tool, then into the grave. With a sigh she slid down and got to work, covering the dead family until nothing remained. Grim smoothed over the earth. "It's better not to sign the place. You never know how desperate some folk get in winter."

He returned the shovels to the shed and stopped by the gate. "So where are you headed now?"

Demadara shrugged as she picked up her things and joined him. "No idea. I am-" She couldn't exactly say what she had done, or where she had come from. Knowledge was dangerous. "Just going where my feet take me I suppose."

He shouldered his blade and looked up to the blue sky. "Well, I got an offer then, if you fancy a little adventure. I was going to look into getting back up, and you may just be who I need."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And what exactly is this 'adventure' you had in mind?"

Grim took the first step outward, his gaze straight forward. "Kicking down the door of the monster responsible for all this and making them pay. What do you say?"

He did not have to ask twice.