“So... Afton had been for us all along?” the king muttered.

“It seems so, your Highness.”

“That's good... let's continue and strike Chrision now, when their queen is down,” the king laughed, “I've stalled long enough to find just what I wanted...”

****

The queen woke up screaming, beads of perspiration peppered her forehead as she recovered her senses.

It was a nightmare... a constant reliving of that fateful day.

“A miracle... it was a miracle I survived,” the queen shivered as her chubby attendant wiped her face with a moist cloth, “That Afton would've killed me if it wasn't for the Falconer. I'm sure of it!”

The attendant listened patiently while getting the queen ready for the day. The times she'd heard the same narrative must have numbered in the hundreds!

“He stabbed her, he did. That wretch stabbed her! Straight to the heart.... my poor Kaylie, to whom I'm forever indebted. With his hand to my throat, I was so sure he would stamp out all my life in a matter of seconds. It was terrible!”

The attendant nodded sympathetically in reply as she turned the queen in her chair to begin styling her hair.

“That imbecile must've killed her before bringing the same blood-stained dagger to my throat...” the queen continued, shivering in horror as she recalled the scene.

“Don't move, please.”

“...He gave me this cut! And that was when you and Kaylie put up the most blood-curling scream I've ever heard. To think a scream could save a life!”

At this, a pinch of pride coursed through the numerous veins of the attendant and a smile lit up her face. She couldn't help it even after the countless times she heard this phrase.

“He fainted... that boy. He fell upon his own dagger and cut himself at the hand. I still remember feeling blood at my throat after I'd given up any thoughts of survival...”

“... But the nightmares twist the ending! The illusion laughs and taunts me. The whole dream is a dreadful warning that my end will soon come! Oh... and I can't stop thinking it'd be at his hands!”

“There, there,” the attendant cooed soothingly, “it was only a dream...”

“A dream, you say,” cried the queen, standing abruptly and ruining the efforts of her little attendant at making her hair presentable in her passion, “Why then, pray tell, would dreams be so explicit in the detailing of my end? Why, even the voices in my dream seem as real as you see me!”

Trying to appease her, the attendant muttered something which the queen took as a cue to continue.

“In those dreadful night terrors, he had me. In those dreams, I was in his hands for him to do as he pleased.... And how he tortured me! He showed his face every second. A blood-stained dagger was always hung somewhere in sight to remind me of the injustice done to the girl I had kidnapped. Oh! If there ever was a soul who knew what most would torment me, it'd be him!”

“It's a dream... only a dream...” the attendant sighed helplessly as the queen continued on rambling.

She suddenly stopped and went staring off into another world while the attendant finished braiding her hair.

However, as abruptly as she'd stopped, the queen asked, “Where is Kaylie?”

The attendant kept quiet. She certainly did not want to turn the queen's mood sour any time soon.

Soon enough, a distraction made its way through the silence in the form of a rabbit.

“Oh! My little Quitzel!” the queen cried in all her childish joy.

The physician had said she'd never recover. She probably never would...

****

Meanwhile, Colvile and Isolde Hunter were living happily in their home(which is rather rare for him). He hadn't recalled his memories as Afton yet (though he would soon).

He'd been smiling much more than usual, though she never once heard him laugh...

Anyway, Isolde had been trying her best to keep her promises to him. They lived far from civilization, she gave everything she had to him, she loved him, almost worshipped him. She even undertook rather taxing jobs for her own good. But she did it all for him.

Every day they spent together was full of color. Sometimes they'd dance as she sang. Those times, he'd smile and look into her eyes, melting her heart all over again. Other times, they'd be sitting together somewhere in the undiscovered parts of Isumton, talking or just spending time together. Life was perfect... too perfect to last.

They were soon blessed with a child: a cute little girl, full of life, yet quiet.

Also, as an after-effect of bringing a child into the world, Isolde was continually exhausted. It must have been something more than just the child who brought this about, for after the child turned a year old, the mother had grown lean and frail, frequently visited by attacks of cold.

Afton would've guessed immediately the cause of this all, but apparently Colvile couldn't. The only secret she'd kept from him stayed hidden.

A fever came to that lovely little house, forcing both mother and daughter to the confines of bed. The seemingly never-ending supply of food in the cupboards finally went down to almost nothing.

What... and why... Colvile never knew. He did understand that he was going to have to supply the bread on their tables, for he took up his bow and arrow (the replacement for his pistol that Isolde had given to him) and hunting knives as soon as both of his temporary charges fell asleep.

He hadn't gotten real game in a while. Maybe it was bloodlust... or maybe... it was just in his blood, but the squirrels and wild pigeons who crossed his path would never cross another.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

His cooking was... adequate. He did work in a restaurant and stuff, but he wasn't a cook...

As the next few days went by, the little girl began to recover. She smiled occasionally when she was awake. The mother, too was recovering... so Colvile thought.

One day, a couple of weeks after the 'recovery', Isolde was dressing a pigeon when she was suddenly caught in a coughing fit. But when she heard Colvile approaching, she quickly sliced a finger to cover up the blood on her cheeks. She was dying and she knew it.

Who would've known that this was all because of the broken-hearted Falconer, Kaylie?

****

“Everything is ready, is it not?”

“Your highness, the preparations are complete and ready for the campaign tomorrow.”

“Good... Good. Chrision... take care.”

****

“Is this why he left? Was I really so cruel to break his heart?” Kaylie cried slamming her head against a tree trunk. She dropped, crying, to the bed of leaves together with a mixture of blood-red tears.

Her hair had grown much longer by now, though the rest of her looked pretty much the same.

“Why did I miss him so much? Why did I hate him so much for leaving? Why.... How did I know he was going then to stab me in the heart without a second thought? Argh! Torture... torture... who would've known that I liked him? Even I didn't... Gah! The torture...”

Kaylie's fingers were bound tightly over a locket... a teardrop-shaped locket. She'd found it, but she couldn't bring herself to follow the instructions of the note in it. He had a happy family of his own now.

A mist hung in the air as she calmed down slowly. The cut on her head had already healed, it didn't even hurt a little.

She made her way to the lake she'd passed nearby.

No girl... stop those tears. You're going to be strong. You're going to be callous to anything. It's the way to be invincible. No one... no one will ever push you down again. No one will ever hurt you.

Using the reflection of the lake, she assumed an indifferent look and smiled at herself.

You can do it, girl, you can keep a heart of ice. Let him go... let Afton go.

****

Colvile struggled to break free from his bonds. Isolde was coughing up so much blood, it looked as if she'd die any moment... And he couldn't even get to her.

He was helplessly standing by as she lay on the brink of death. Tied back by an intangible rope.

And even after he'd broken free, he'd no better luck against the transparent wall that stood between him and her.

Colvile felt for any hole, and crack, any indent of some sort that would hint an entrance to her. No tears blurred his vision, panic pounded in his head, but he kept it down. Colvile couldn't start that now.

At this moment, he felt a familiar presence, heard a familiar voice...

“I warned you, didn't I?” the voice whispered coldly in his ear. It was so soft, but it echoed against his invisible walls. “Yet... you did not heed it. You'd broken her heart.”

Colvile continued watching helplessly as cough after cough jolted her and he knew... it was the direct interception of an immortal.

He fell on his knees, “Save her,”he whispered, “I beg of you.”

It was answered with a haughty laugh and a bitter voice that said, “You won't even cry for your own wife. Yet... you had the insolence to go and break my daughter's heart.”

“Your... daughter?”

Lycoris appeared before him, “You can't hide forever, Afton. You know who.”

“I don't want to remember... I don't want to be Afton... I... I don't want any of this. I want to go back!” he cried, “Why can't you have mercy on me? Why can't you just let me live happily for once? All my world has fallen apart... Rain, Alistair, and then Kaylie. So, why? Why is it unfair?”

“Fate is the answer,” she muttered contemptuously. “He enjoys watching fights between the children of the sun and the moon. Pity... was never meant to have sprouted in my heart for a child of the sun.”

“Then... I beg of you... to have mercy take over where pity has failed! Give me a chance!”

“A chance?” Lycoris mumbled, “I'll have to think about it.”

“Please! Let off her sickness for however long you take to think it over! Don't crush the only thing in life I hold dear!”

“That...” Lycoris laughed, “don't worry about it.”

****

“Isolde! Are you alright?!” Colvile asked right after he awoke.

“Why... wouldn't I be?” she asked, hesitantly.

“I-I don't know,” Colvile replied, calming himself.

It was only a dream... only a dream.

But, day by day, her coughing became more intense. She became weak with it, almost always stuck in bed. The daughter was the complete opposite. Wherever her mother was lacking in strength, the little one seemed to thrive.

A week passed and the mother's condition worsened. She barely ate, her smile weakened with every passing hour, she never took one step from her bed, her face was already as pale as if Death had come and gone through her. And all this time, Colvile stayed by her, holding her hand when her eyes opened, involuntarily wetting the back of her hand with a tear now and then.

“What's wong wiv mama?” a little voice whispered from under his elbow.

“Mama is losing ground, Annie,” he whispered back, a sad smile on his face.

The next day, she died. Colvile knew it would happen soon, but he was shocked by her death. He'd never really come across a death that wasn't from natural causes.

Still, he didn't cry. Something wouldn't allow him to cry.

“Come, Anastasia, my little Annie. Let's go. Mama's going to rest now.”

So Afton and Anastasia left the little house in the middle of nowhere to start out anew somewhere else. Wherever the wind blew, through the bushes, across the plains, they'd have to find a place... to survive...

****

Afton covered Anastasia's mouth and motioned for her to stay low before he disappeared from sight.

It was another one of those nights that he'd come back late. Anastasia settled down and fell asleep.

A couple of shots were fired, the cries of the dying echoed throughout the woods and then the silence of the night returned.

Afton was back in the OB. This time, his heart was wholly hardened against his own kind. He killed without hesitation. He didn't dwell any longer than was needed on the blood of men on his face.

He was, after all, a young adult of 22, working to support his daughter, a secret from the world.

He trusted neither mortal nor immortal any longer. He was fast, quick-witted, and the best actor in Isumton. He was... Afton, the notorious assassin of the second-in-command of Chrision. His mission, to take down any possible aspiring secret weapons that Chrision had been, as of late, cooking up in a desperate endeavor to regain what was lost on their side. It didn't matter that the other land had a higher average in discipline, strength, resources, and defense, he was on the job, now. And every knows... his record was clean.

He did everything they asked on two condition: not one foot into Chrision, no talking included in his job. If he had to talk, it would be his end... like how Kaylie did it. So far, he'd killed fifteen or so of the elite who stepped into forest land. The advantage of knowing the border like the back of his hand added to his successes... His little girl, Annie(Anastasia), did not have any clue where he went or what he did.

While he was slashing out hearts, she'd be lying, fast asleep, in a bed of grass. When he stayed awhile to keep his thoughts from straying, or to clean the warm blood of his victims off his face, hands, and clothes, she'd be sitting up, waiting expectantly for her daddy to come home.

Little girl, my Annie, you'll learn one day. You can't trust anyone... only daddy will stay by you. I'll protect you as long as I live and I'll dare any stupid jerk to come and try to touch you. Annie... I'll never allow you to feel the way I did.

A silenced bullet from his pistol sent another Chrision soldier into Death's hands, as his other hand did a downward slash across the heart of another unfortunate person.

Aside from a couple of slashes on his chest, he'd only gained minor scratches. Along with his acting, his little girl knew none of what went on on these nights...

****

"Annie? You there?" Afton whispered urgently, "Annie, come out."

"Heah, papa!" she whispered back, curling her little hands around his neck. 

Afton smiled with relief as he hugged her tightly and lifted her, "We're going to move again. Papa's going to work somewhere else."

"But, we're always moving!" Annie complained.

"I promise we'll settle soon so you can learn your letters, sweetie, just wait a little while."

For a little while longer, I'll end this soon. Hold out 'til then, my little Annie, and I'll bring you up the happiest and strongest of them all.