“Gaaaaah!”

Halerosh turned back to Alexia, the fae noticing how his pupil had stopped walking in the middle of the street. All walking by stopped and turned to the girl, something she was more than familiar with them doing, but she didn’t notice it this time. All her attention was on the searing pain in her arm with the cursed sign, one she was currently holding close to her chest as she did her damndest not to cry. This was worse than it had ever felt before, but she would not succumb to its pain.

Seeing his pupil in such horrid pain, Halerosh immediately rushed to Alexia’s side. A faint light emanated from his left hand, holding it to his pupil’s cursed one and doing all he could to soothe the pain. It didn’t help much, but the human girl was no longer gritting her teeth to keep from screaming out again. She breathed heavily, doing her best to calm herself despite the still raging fire that the curse put into her arm.

“They… are in… Ellio.” Alexia managed to speak through her breaths. “The Lord of… Terror is in… Ellio.”

Alexia met her mentor's eyes as she finished her statement, Halerosh looking at her with concern. It was impressive to an extent, just how defiant the girl was despite the pain. She had seen those with the curse fall to the ground the instant the Lord of Terror used their powers. Yet here was Alexia, as defiant as ever, fighting back against the curse despite the pain and torture it put her through. It was almost inspiring, but the fae cared less for the act of bravery and more about the horrible pain this was putting the girl through.

“The council shall be warned, and Alabaster will decide how to approach this,” Halerosh said, his voice low so that only Alexia heard them. He turned to the people watching them, not liking the amount of unwanted attention they were currently receiving. “She will be fine, keep moving along.”

There was a clear hesitation in much of the crowd, but they weren’t about to go against the wishes of one of the Council of Peace. They started to move along once again, though eyes were still on Alexia as Halerosh got her to straighten up. Alexia looked at each and every one of them with hate in her heart, a hate that hid the painful acknowledgement of her very personage. A hate that never left.

“Pay them no mind. They just don’t understand,” Halerosh told her. Alexia looked to him as if to speak. “One day, they will see you as a hero. A far cry from the shell I found you as, right?”

“That is the hope,” Alexia said, her eyes meeting that of a little girl as she walked by with her parents. The girl hugged her mothers body, looking away after only a few seconds of looking at Alexia’s. “First though, I must prove myself stronger than this curse. Stronger than the Lord of Terror's hold on me.”

Halerosh nodded. “Let us rest then. Besides, there is someone we should check on before daring to go after the Lord themself.”

----------------------------------------

Lord of Terror. That is what the highwayman called Sofie.

His blade was still pointing at her in challenge, waiting for her response. It was like she was being treated as some glorious knight, though she doubted a knight would be called a beast. It was not what Sofie was focused on, though, her thoughts still swirling with all that had just happened. The energy that still coursed through her hands, the voice that had played in her head, and now that title that the highwayman called her by. She didn’t need to know anything about it, she just needed to hear it for a shiver to go through her body.

Lord of Terror, a title she would direct towards a tyrant king or dictator, both of which she was more than familiar with through one mean or another. Instead, however, it was being directed towards her for no reason. She looked at her hands, still covered in the same dark energy that had overtaken them when her life had been threatened earlier. This was the cause of such a claim, she was sure of it. She would make sure to correct the highwayman immediately.

“I… I think you have me confused with someone else, sir,” Sofie told him. “My name is Sofie Yvanova, I’m not even from around here. I don’t have any idea what the hell is happening to me.”

Her words were plagued with terror, arms trembling as she continued to hold the knife in front of her in self defense. The look on the highwayman’s face told her everything she needed to know: he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to budge on what he said, so Sofie knew she had to change her approach to it all. If he didn’t care about if he was correct or not, then figuring out what he meant in the first place was the best thing she could do.

“What is this Lord of Terror you address me as?” She asked him, noticing how his smile grew at her words. “I am not familiar with the title.”

“You say that, yet you know how to control the Fog as if it was a part of your body?” The highwayman said, Sofie noticed how his two colleagues backed up as he continued to speak. “Do not attempt to fool me. Do not attempt to fool anyone when you hide it so horribly! I’ve heard the stories just like everyone else; I know what stands before me.”

As if he was performing, he tossed his sword into the air and twirled his body till his other hand was positioned in just the right place. He caught the sword effortlessly, spinning it around a little bit, and Sofie noticed far more clearly that, for some reason, that trick had somehow caused a load of information to enter her head. It was fractured but it was there, doing its best to piece itself together. The only thing she could tell was that it seemed to be about the very blade her opponent wielded.

“You, lady, are undeniably that which will destroy our culture and our tradition,” He said, waxing as if he was a bard instead of a thief. “The beast that the Council of Peace has kept us all safe from. You are the Lord of Terror, and I know you will be my even match,” He motioned with his free hand towards Elenise and Harper, the latter of which staring Sofie head on with fear consuming his eyes. “Face me in a duel. Let it not be to the death, for I will not rid the Council of their destined fight with you. Let whoever unarms the other first be declared the victor. Win, and I shall leave these two travelers with their wares untouched.”

Hearing that, Sofie suddenly felt a small bit of confidence enter her. She did not have the confidence in herself to defeat him on standard terms, much less kill someone. Yet the simple act of fighting to unarm, somehow she found the competence in herself to be able to do that. She was sure the only reason that the confidence had summoned itself was because Harper and Elenise’s livelihood was now put on the line.

That settled her plan of action in her mind. She could focus on what the heck had happened to herself afterwards. She wasn’t about to let a chance to stop these thieves pass her up.

“If you win, take what you want,” Sofie told the highwayman as she held the knife with one hand, allowing her other hand to the side of her body. “I told you my name. Mind if I ask yours?”

The highwayman, satisfied, dropped into a battle stance. “Maxwell Cosner.”

“Boss, are you sure she won’t just kill you?” Said one of Maxwell’s men, both of them feeling similarly scared for their bosses' well-being. He chuckled at their concern. “She is the Lord of Terror. It's more than likely she is far more skilled with that knife than any of us.”

“One look at her tells me all I need to know,” Maxwell told them. His smile was far more normal than earlier, making him sound sane as a result. “The girl is no killer. Even with the replication state, you can tell this is the first time she has ever held a knife for any purpose other than cooking.”

He stepped forward as he finished speaking, both hands on his blade. He held it level to his head, taking a moment to glance at his own reflection before focusing on his opponent. Sofie had taken a step forward, and Maxwell quickly realized she was not looking where she should be. He chuckled, seeing how little the girl's powers were able to hide her novice state. He doubted from her words earlier that she even knew what those powers were.

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Maxwell was the first to strike, abandoning his earlier slow and theatrical approach to one more befitting a fighter. Sofie yanked her armed hand back just quick enough to avoid the blades contacting. She knew she likely didn’t have the strength to block the blow, so dodging was her only option. It wasn’t too many spaces back, a part of her knowing exactly how close she needed to be in order to strike back. Still more focused on the man than the sword, she barely had time to react as he brought his sword up from underneath.

It only hit the blade, but the force of the swing nearly sent her hand flying outward. She probably would have let go off the blade, but her body acted on its own. She tightened her grip, planted a foot back to better balance. When the next strike from Maxwell came, she changed the knife between hands, her left hand able to grip it far better than her right one. With it, she was able to push Maxwell’s steel off of her own and took a step back to ask herself something.

“How… how the hell did I do that?”

“Replication complete.”

She didn’t have much time to contemplate the return of the odd voice as a wave of information entered her brain. Time seemed to slow as she took it all in, wondering where it all was coming from in the first place. It all pertained to the blade, from how to wield it to how to defeat it. One thing was made very much clear by all the information told to her, something that made her realize that Maxwell hadn’t chosen to fight to disarm just to keep from taking on the full wrath of some “Lord of Terror”.

No, he did it because there was no way for her to disarm him with her strength. Strength that this information told her was being buffed by the energy that had enveloped her arms. It made her not only realize how weak she was from having eaten so little in the past week or two, but also that this wasn’t just some dumb bandit she was up against. A part of her thought she had no choice but to give up, but then a thought entered her mind.

If she couldn’t disarm him through a strike of her own, then she would do it through more dirty means. He was a highwayman, after all, honor meant nothing to his kind.

Her eyes turned away from his chest and instead to his sword arm, which she now recognized was where her focus had to be if she was to have any chance at blocking a strike. It immediately paid off, able to get in a firm stance as Maxwell tried a strike closer to her fingers. Gripping the knife with both hands, she managed to keep her guard from being broken like it had moments before. Maxwell brought his sword back just slightly before striking again, but it had given Sofie just enough time for an idea to form.

She ducked under the swing and allowed his balance to be thrown off, needing to take an extra step from the sheer force he had put behind the strike. With an opening, Sofie let her left hand have the sole position of the knife as she brought her right into a fist. With her target, she brought her right arm back before throwing it forward right into Maxwell’s groin.

The sound that left the highwayman’s mouth was most definitely not masculine, matching the fact that Sofie had hit him at just the right angle for his balls to go into the rest of his body. She stepped out of the way as he let go of the sword and fell to the ground in pain. His men rushed to his side, completely forgetting that they had come here to rob as they saw the pain their boss was in.

“Maxwell, sir, are you okay?” Said the one Sofie had tried to target earlier, kneeling down.

“Yeah. Blow was dirty but I should have expected it,” Maxwell told them, standing up but still very sore. “Now, if you two don’t mind I have a… what?!”

At no point had Maxwell realized he had dropped his sword, and a look over his shoulder gave him all he needed to know. Standing there, the dark energy having dissipated from her body and doing her best to lift the sword he had weld, was Sofie. She gave him a smile, and then stuck her tongue out at him in a further attempt to mock him. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle despite the bruise he had no doubt received from her fist.

“Guess that makes you the winner,” He said. “Gotta hand it to you for ingenuity, and you don’t look anywhere near as scared as when we started.”

“How could I be scared of a bandit that was defeated by a punch to the groin?” Sofie replied, the rhetorical question wounding Maxwell’s ego even more than it already was. “Still, you lost. That means not taking whatever the hell Harper is carrying, got it?”

“I may be a man of bad intent, but I don’t go against my word,” Maxwell said. Turning away, he started walking away. “Enjoy your victory, but I would suggest putting a little muscle on your body. After all…” He looked back for a moment, smiling. “Something tells me the Council already knows you are here.”

With that, Maxwell walked away, a bit of a wobble in his step. Sofie watched on, still not sure about most of what the highwayman said. The talk of her being someone called the Lord of Terror, it made her wonder how many screws were loose up in his brain. Looking at her hands, she was glad to see for herself that the energy had faded from her body. “The Fog”, Maxwell called it, though why it was called that she had no exact idea.

Still, it was something she could ask Elenise and Harper about. She turned back to them and smiled, only to find that the two were chatting about something again. Sofie couldn’t help but feel hurt, knowing inside that it was no doubt her that was the topic of discussion. She took a moment to place the knife and sword inside the couple’s wagon, seeing that Maxwell had truly vanished from sight in the process. When she returned, the human and elf had just finished their conversation. Both sets of eyes looked at her, Harpers with caution behind them while Elenise’s held a more somber tone.

“You’ve probably noticed already, but the thieves have been dealt with,” Sofie said, her voice showing a hint of dissatisfaction at the two’s secret conversation. “So, you gonna tell me why you two have talked behind my back twice now, or should I just leave and not bother you two?”

Harper and Elenise looked at each other, the former motioning for his wife to take the lead. With a nod, Elenise stepped forward and met Sofie’s gaze, the Ukrainian looking more than a little upset at the two. The girl was only seventeen, and yet she carried herself in a more adult manner than some elves ten times her age. A result of the events she had lived through before coming here no doubt.

“Sofie, do you have any idea what that energy was that you conjured up?” Elenise asked.

“Other than the fact Maxwell called it the Fog, no,” Sofie told her. “Never seen it, never heard of it, and I most definitely have never conjured it before,” As she finished speaking, she realized something. “You know what it is don’t you?”

“The fact that you don’t is enough to tell us what you are, and the talks about being from another world proved it further,” Harper replied. “When the bandit called you the Lord of Terror, it wasn’t because he thought you were some tyrant. No, he was speaking of your origins, of your sudden appearance in our world, and the power you hold,” He took a few steps forward. “I’m sorry for us seeming so suspicious, but we didn’t know how to approach the topic.”

In other words, they were scared of her. They tried to dress it up nice but Sofie knew fear as well as anyone, and what she saw in the two of them was nothing but paranoia and fear. She cursed under her breath, cursing herself for believing for but a moment that they could be trusted. It was not that simple, she was more than aware that it was not that simple, but she allowed herself to get her hopes up once and it backfired on her.

“So let me guess,” Sofie took a step forward as she spoke, a hatred swelling in her heart. “I supposed to destroy the world or something because of these powers that I have? You think after everything I went through I would want that?”

“I’m not saying that, and that isn’t entirely true,” Elenise replied. “It is said that when the Lord of Terror appears destruction will follow, yes, but its not that of the world ending kind. I’m one-hundred thirty three, I’ve been around to see what they do,” She clutched her hands close to her chest, reflecting on her memories. “They’ve done good, such as freeing my people or bringing new technology to the world, but in the past many years they have gained the moniker for a more terrifying reasons. Weapons of great destruction, world domination, ones nearly brought my kind back into slavery under the helyans.”

The anger didn’t leave Sofie as she heard Elenise’s explanation, but it did answer a lot of things. It made sense why they had dodged around the existence of the helyans earlier and, as much as she hated to admit it, she understood where their fear came from. She still didn’t understand it completely, but it gave her a better idea of what had brought her here.

She thought for a moment to make off on her own, leave the two since they were scarred. Her hunger and lack of coin were the only things reminding her how terrible of an idea that was overall. She didn’t know how to hunt or anything like that, so having a group to travel with was the best course of action. She let out a sigh, meeting Harper’s gaze head on.

“Let me make it clear, I have no plans to enslave or conquer anyone,” She told him. “I have a second chance to live my life, a chance that most don’t get. As far as I’m concerned, that is the only thing on my mind,” She looked to Elenise, who avoided eye contact straight back. “You planned to get rid of me in Taevenburg, so go ahead. Do that and let our paths never cross again.”

Harper and Elenise looked at each other, realizing the mistakes they had made. They then looked to Sofie and nodded, the Ukrainian not waiting for them to finish as she started down the road. The two followed her moments after, no words being exchanged between any of them. It was a sure change from the conversations that had been going when Sofie first joined them, but they both knew that it was probably best not to approach her at that moment.