Steel clanging and men shouting warred with the roar of thunder to be heard. The noise grew more distant the farther I walked, drowned out by the shah of rain beating against trees and the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

Rain pelted, blinding me as I made my way up the steep slope. Mud glued me in place, making each step harder than the next.

I slogged through, clutching at trees to keep my balance. It wasn’t enough.

My foot slipped.

I turned my body, yelping as I fell, landing hard on my side.

A fresh wave of pain wracked my body, making the previous aches worse. I did my best to ignore it, dragging my free hand across my face, clearing dirt, water, and whatever else clung to me. The bundle in my arm was protected. Not that it made a difference. Still, I clutched it to my chest, humming a broken tune I’d heard somewhere.

I wanted to sit, only for a moment. I couldn’t. If I did, I wasn’t sure I’d get back up. I opened my mouth, angled my face up, and swallowed some water, but it didn’t ease my thirst.

It was dark. The tar-black sky flashed with steaks of lightning. I couldn’t see anything other than the black forms of the trees closest to me. The temple should be near.

I was in shock. I didn’t know what kept me moving.

“Just a little more.” The words comforted me, knowing the end was close. Peacefulness settled where anger and frustration used to be.

My next step felt different, yanking my foot up and plodding it down. Mud squished between my toes, and rocks dug into the blistered soles of my feet.

I’d lost a shoe.

It wasn’t a substantial loss. The clothes I wore were a collection of scraps I found as I wandered the battlefield scavenging from corpses. It was a far cry from the finery I grew up with.

A hollow laugh slipped out, swallowed by the yowl of wind whipping through the trees. My body rocked.

Jaw clenched, I continued forward.

***

My legs gave out. I dropped to my knees.

I looked through scraggly, water-soaked black bangs, seeing a dilapidated altar.

Was I on my knees in supplication?

It was fitting.

I wasn’t religious, but facing death, I realized gods existed. They fucked with my life. I don’t know what I did to incur their ire, or maybe they favored others. Selena, for example. Everyone loved her. She was eloquent. Selena knew who to say what to. Not like Jal. The beautiful but stupid illegitimate daughter.

I never escaped that identity. Years later, it returned to haunt me.

The temple stank of piss.

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Temple was the wrong word.

It was a cave with roughly smoothed walls and faded glyphs carved into it. They marked the altar as belonging to an old god. I wasn’t knowledgeable enough to know which, and I didn’t care.

The pain was gone. The whip marks on my back didn’t sting, nor did the burn on my face throb.

Too tired to stand, I crawled forward.

I rested the bundle swaddled to my chest on the altar, removing layers of cloth until I saw his beautiful face.

My son.

He didn’t have a name. I wasn’t able to think of one when he was born, and he passed away before I could decide.

Another dry laugh slipped past my cracked lips.

They murdered him.

I reached out to stroke a finger down his cheek, but stopped. He was pale and clean, while dirt and mud caked my hands.

He shouldn’t have been born.

At least they had the decency to poison him. He’d passed painlessly in his sleep. A kindness I didn’t know they had.

“I’m sorry.” My voice was raspy. I couldn’t remember the last time I spoke. I wondered about the life he would have had if someone else were his mother.

I bit my lip, tasting blood. “Please. I don’t know what to say. I’m not asking for myself, but please have mercy on him.”

My chest tightened as I thought about what else to say. My thoughts scattered.

Clank, thud, the sound of soldiers. They were getting closer.

Heart racing, I scrambled back.

Arms spread wide to protect him.

I didn’t think I had any tears left, but my eyes burned as I cried.

Couldn’t they leave us alone?

A flash of lightning illuminated a figure at the mouth of the cave.

I couldn’t see his face. He wore full armor. Not a drop of mud marred its gleaming silver surface. Green eyes glared at me through the slit of his helmet.

Only he entered, but others blocked the entry. They had their swords drawn. Two hands on the hilt, the tip pointed down.

“All this for little old me.” My hoarse voice sounded eerie. The calm tone surprised me. The soldiers guarding the entrance weren’t as skilled. They shuffled from foot to foot, sending nervous glances at each other.

“This is the end-”

“No shit. What else could it be? The beginning?” I said, cutting him off. My hands flopped to my side, and I plopped down, sitting with my back resting on the altar. What was I doing? He was already dead. I’d failed when I was supposed to protect him. Anything now was to soothe my conscience. “Who sent you?” The husband who abandoned me, or the brother who sold me. “Doesn’t matter,” I said before he could speak. “I’m honored they sent a magic swordsman to deal with one half-dead woman.”

I’d lived my who life not knowing how much of a threat and nuisance they considered me. I’d been jealous and ashamed that I was less than others because of my birth and lack of magic. Now I found it all pointless.

“Where is the-”

“Not telling you.” I aimed for a singsong tone, but my voice cracked, the words fading at the end.

He came towards me.

I eyed him, baring my teeth. I followed his gaze. He wasn’t looking at me. I jolted.

“Pathetic.” Hand on the edge of the stone altar, I shakily stood. “So terrified of a dead baby. He couldn’t even come and clean up his own mess. He let his lap dog do it.”

He laughed. “Let me? You can’t use magic or fight. Why does his majesty need to deal with you?” Drawing his sword, he thrust it through my chest.

Mouth open, I looked down.

It didn’t hurt.

I touched the wound.

My vision blurred, and I swayed. With my last bit of strength, I spit in his face. “Did I upset you, dog?”

He backhanded me, metal connecting with my cheek.

Hitting the altar, my body bounced and slumped to the floor. Vision blurring, I screamed as he reached a gauntlet-covered hand to my child.

He startled, turning to look at me. His steps faltered, but only for a second. He turned around, whispering a spell. Fire engulfed the small body resting on the altar.

The smell of roasting flesh made me gag.

As he walked past, I reached out, grabbing his greaves.

He kicked my hand away.

I should have lived more freely.