The wasteland stretched endlessly before Vigdis, the jagged rocks and cracked ground blending into the horizon. Her "guide" limped ahead, his steps uneven and his breath labored. The green-glowing bolt embedded in his thigh had done more than wound him—it seemed to fester, spreading pain and corruption through his body with every step. His occasional whines of pain filled the silence, and Vigdis let him make them. She wasn’t here to comfort anyone.
Her grip on the axe was light, almost casual, but her mind was sharp. As they walked, her thoughts turned inward, unbidden. The fight with the ambush team replayed itself in her head—the swing of her axe, the spray of blood, the sound of bodies falling to the ground. She’d felt alive in that moment. Not just alive, but right. It was a feeling she rarely experienced, and it lingered now, like a shadow trailing her.
The peace of Thornshade felt like a distant dream. The healer’s soft voice, the scent of herbs, the warmth of the fire—none of it had fit her. She’d tried to let herself rest, tried to imagine staying, but the stillness had only reminded her of everything she’d lost. Her parents. Her village. Her crew. Her… The quiet brought their faces back, their voices, their screams.
But the chaos of battle? The sound of her axe splitting flesh and bone? That silenced everything. In the heat of the fight, there was no past, no grief, no pain. Just her, her enemies, and the raw thrill of survival.
Did she enjoy the cruelty, the brutality? She didn’t think so—not exactly. But there was a satisfaction in turning that savagery onto those who deserved it. Raiders, cannibals, monsters... It wasn’t justice, not really. Justice implied some greater purpose, and she didn’t fool herself with such notions. No, it was simpler than that. Being in action, wielding her strength against the wicked, cleared her head in a way nothing else could.
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When the cave came into view, Vigdis slowed her pace. The jagged cliffs loomed ahead, the entrance to the cave a dark, foreboding void carved into the rock. Tracks in the dirt confirmed the cannibal’s words—this was their home. Her lips curled into a grim line.
The cannibal in front of her faltered, his limp worsening. He glanced back at her, desperation flickering in his hollow eyes. His breathing was shallow now, each step clearly agony as the wound on his thigh oozed dark, viscous blood. Whatever power coursed through that bolt was eating away at him, punishing him for every inch he dragged himself forward.
“P-please...” he stammered, his voice trembling. “I told you where... where it is. Let me... let me go. I’ll—”
He didn’t get to finish.
She loosened her grip on the axe and let the weight of the haft fall forward, driving the bottom edge of the handle into his throat. The motion was simple, effortless, and precise. His breath caught in a wet, choking sound as he crumpled to the ground, clawing weakly at his neck.
Without a word, Vigdis leaned on the axe, resting her weight on the flat of the blade, her eyes fixed on the cave ahead. The handle pressed firmly against the man’s crushed throat, holding him down. She listened as his gurgling breaths turned to silence, his body going still beneath the weight of the weapon.
For a moment, she stayed like that, leaning casually, her mind still. She exhaled slowly, her breath misting in the cool air. Maybe she did enjoy the cruelty, just a little. But it didn’t matter. This one had deserved it. They all did. And she was here to finish what she’d started.
She straightened slowly, pulling the axe free and wiping its haft against the edge of her trousers. Her green eyes narrowed as she studied the dark entrance ahead, the faint echoes of movement and whispers already beginning to drift out.
It was time.