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Shadows of the Night
Chapter 7: The Flitting Sparrow

Chapter 7: The Flitting Sparrow

There was no way that he could do such a thing. He was merely a tradesman working from place to place in different roles. He was a nobody. He had no motive to do this to anyone, especially men of the royal guards. Not only that, he too was beaten so severely only the night before; there was no way he could have been responsible for such a brutal massacre of highly trained men. Not Sai.

Sai’s breathing started getting heavier, his vision blurred, and white dots clouded them. His heart pumped so hard he could hear drumming in his ears. Knots formed in his stomach as he felt the acids rise, making him nauseous. Even though he had only experienced it once before and recently, he knew this feeling very well. He was about to pass out.

He gripped the trunk tighter, stretching out his palm wide, and the rough surface of the tree scratched at his palm uncomfortably. His other arm grabbed his sweat-soaked shirt and pulled it away from his skin. It clung to him; the loose fabric somehow made him feel constricted and trapped in his own skin, and he wanted to crawl out. His breathing was growing heavier and more infrequent. Fear started to settle in his stomach. It was dark now, and unlike the previous night or the one he remembered, he felt unsettled, and no peace came to him.

…..

Sai awoke to a familiar but groggy feeling. Like the ones people had when they had slept far too long, satiated by deep sleep. Or perhaps a brush with death. The fog soon lifted, but what settled in its wake was something much heavier and darker. It sat on the pit of his stomach, growing bigger and bigger; it ate at him. The guilt, the denial, the regret and most of all, the confusion. He had killed those men, and for what reasons he had none; that he knew that much and yet, as clear as that to the truth, his memories were a jumbled mess. An amalgamation of contradictions was what he was left with. They, too, had tried to kill him without reason. They just had unfortunate luck in that they did not succeed, and he did. But in all of this, did they deserve such brutal deaths?

“Nothing is making sense!” Heavy creases formed around Sai’s mouth as he softly exclaimed. He followed with, “How did this happen?” The thoughts came in a never-ending loop, but with no answers forming.

Even Sai’s questions did not make any sense to him. He felt that perhaps how was not as important as to why. Why had he killed those soldiers? Why was all of this happening to him? Why did his memories feel like they belonged to someone else? But even more so, why did it feel both terrifying and yet exhilarating to know he had killed those men? Men of titles, men of importance, men of power. The same men that think him beneath themselves, the same ones that scorned people like him. The same people who would not have given an ounce of care had it been him dead.

The darkness of the night hid not only Sai’s tears of shame and guilt but also the desire and lust that was growing within. He didn’t understand it before, but he had felt the surging flow of energy, the pounding in his ears, and the intense beating of his heart. It was something not his. Something foreign and strange, and it now belonged to him.

This unknown feeling was power. Sai didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Now that it was his, he wanted to make sure he could keep it hidden. It has to remain hidden, he told himself.

“Over here”, a soft giggle followed.

The bush around him rustled, and Sai’s heart raced with a mixture of fear and anxiety. Had they found him? He didn’t dare move a muscle from where he crouched.

Two figures emerged from the shadows, and Sai melted in place, wanting to burrow deeper into darkness.

“Maurice, what if we get caught?” a woman whispered, her tone high and breathy and her excitement evident.

“Oh, sweetling, who will catch us?” The man’s voice was thick and heady, cultivated and suave. Sai deduced that this must be Maurice, and he could not help but instantly think him to be a slimy man by the way he spoke.

The woman let out another cheerful giggle, “Maurice, can’t you leave that old hag?” she asked sweetly, but her words were spiteful.

“Darling girl, you know that I can’t”, Maurice coaxed in a sing-songy way. Then he added, “She had trapped me with a child!”

Sai felt his stomach turn and twist, this time not with anxiety but disgust.

“But Maurice!” she started; Sai could imagine she had been pouting.

“Enough. Nothing can be done about it. I won’t leave my wife.” His voice rose as he spoke in finality.

There was a long silence between the two intruders. The only sounds were the bights of nature: the wind fluttering the leaves, the crunches of twigs underneath the paws of critters, and the cry of the howls.

“Sniff… sniff”, a mousey sound broke their battle of silence. “I’ll… I’ll… leave…I’ll leave you then,” the woman replied through sobs and hiccups as if broken by his revelations.

Sai felt the rustle of the branches to his left. He held his breath and shut his eyes with anticipation. His jaw clenched as he gritted his teeth. Sweat proliferated from his forehead. If they see me, what will happen? He couldn’t help the thoughts that flooded his mind.

“Wait, sweetheart!” Maurice exclaimed. Sai felt more rustling as he followed the woman. “You’ve misunderstood me,” he cajoled, his voice soft and gentle again.

Sai peeked through the branches, looking for an opening to sneak past, but he found none that would not expose him.

“I have?” she replied, her obvious fickleness exploited by a few words of consolation.

“Yes… yes!” Maurice quickly urged. “You have! I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to be with you,” he rambled. “It’s not that I won’t leave my wife; it’s only that I can’t, now that she is with a child, I’m not that kind of man,” he persuaded.

Sniff, sniff. “But I-I-I can be the mother of your child!” she prompted before adding, “I will look after it like my own!”

“No, no, I can’t ask that of you!” Maurice replied in haste, his tone holding distress. “You uh-“

“Uh, you—” Maurice minced and repeated words, looking for the right ones. “You are far too young! Yes, you are young motherhood!” He spoke as if finding Eureka.

“Are you implying that I won’t be a good mother?” she said, her voice low and dejected, as she sniffled again.

“No, honey! I merely wanted to say that raising a child, especially one that isn’t yours, would ruin your youth,” he quickly blocked. “You know how much I adore that youthfulness of yours.” He gently added, his voice low with a cadence like honey, and his words were just as sweet—sweet words practised and perfected to lure those seeking honey only to be trapped by a hornet.

It seemed that those mere words were enough to entice the girl, who replied blissfully, “Oh, but Maurice, you know I would adore any child of yours even if she births them.” She playfully tapped at his chest, but her tone was vicious.

“I know, I know you are just the sweetest girl there is,” he said as he dove for her neck while planting kisses. His arms snaked from around her back to the front laces of her bodice, untangling strings and laces. “Now, enough of this; let’s get to business,” he urged her as his hungry hands ploughed deeper down her top.

“Yes!” she said, breathless and gasping as she repeated, “Yes, let’s stop talking about that scheming hag!”

Sai’s face scrunched in disgust. There he was, feeling sorry for the girl, thinking she was being taken advantage of. Now, he knew she was as complicit, so he felt no further sympathy and was grossed out by the debauchery before his eyes. His legs had started to cramp from crouching in his position for a few minutes. Sai gritted his teeth as the convulsions and contractions knotted his muscles, shooting pain throughout his leg.

When the two lovers had finally taken their passions to the ground, Sai was waiting for an opportunity to slip out from the bushes but could find none until they rolled further from him in their wild entangle. Finally, Sai wanted to rejoice but bit his lips and started planning his timely escape.

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Maurice was now on top of the woman who was sprawled out on the ground, her arm held above her by Maurice’s own hands.

“What are you waiting for?” she said, her voice heady and breathless.

“I just wanted to admire you some more,” Maurice laid it thick. He removed it in one fell swoop as he reached for his tunic.

Sai felt ashamed as he watched like some perverted depraved person. He didn’t mean to but had no choice; he was looking for an opening. When Maurice leaned down to give the woman kisses, Sai persuaded himself it was time.

Sai didn’t look back as he pushed himself to move, weaving between the thick trees and uneven forest ground. His muscles screamed in protest, cramped from the long crouch, but the adrenaline coursing through him forced his legs forward. His breath came in short, sharp, shallow bursts as he fought to silence his movements. Behind him, the lovers’ laughter and whispers that floated through the night air had stopped.

“Did you hear that?” a woman’s voice hissed, breathy with panic.

“Who’s there?” Maurice’s voice followed, stern and annoyed. “Show yourself!”

Just as Sai was about to reach a clearing, the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves seemed deafening. He froze in place momentarily before lurching himself to a full sprint. He couldn’t slow down—not now.

“Keep going,” he told himself. “Don’t stop. Don’t think.” From behind him, he heard Maurice shout, “Hey! Stop!”

Suddenly, his foot caught on a root hidden in the underbrush.

“Hngh!” Sai grunted as he hit the ground, knocking the air from his lungs. He clawed at the dirt beneath him, his fingers digging into the damp earth. His whole body shook, aching from exhaustion, fear, and inexplicable tension that clung to him like a second skin.

No, I can’t let them catch me! Sai felt his heart thundering as he scrambled from all fours and urged on, pushing at the branches and bushes around him. His arms stung from the scratches and stings of the prickles.

Branches whipped at Sai’s face, some hitting his eyes, as he sprinted blindly into the trees. Tears formed and clung to his cheeks from the slaps of the leaves. Panic fueled him, but exhaustion betrayed him as his pace began to falter, his legs like lead.

“I see him!” the woman cried out, closer now. “Maurice, he’s there!”

Sai didn’t dare look back. His vision blurred as he stumbled over roots and rocks, lungs burning as he gasped for air. But it wasn’t enough. He could hear them gaining on him.

“You little rat!” Maurice roared, a dangerous fury unleashed. “Stop running!”

Sai’s foot caught again, and this time he couldn’t recover. He fell hard, his chin smacking against the ground. Stars exploded behind his eyes as he lay sprawled, dazed and breathless.

A pair of hands seized his shoulders before a heavy knee rested between the planes of his shoulders. Sai blinked up through bleary eyes to see nothing but the ground. He twisted his body, trying to break free, but alas, he was pinned down hard.

“What do we have here?” Maurice hissed, shaking Sai hard enough to rattle his teeth. “A spy? A thief? Doesn’t matter, I’ll beat it out of you!” he spat at the ground near Sai’s face.

Sai groaned, too helpless to respond. His limbs felt like dead weight.

“Maurice!” the woman’s shrill and nervous voice rang out. After she caught up, she crouched beside them, her hair a dishevelled mess, her hands clutching her loose bodice, the laces hanging freely. Her wide eyes darted around the forest. “What if someone hears us?”

Maurice flipped Sai roughly onto his back. Even in the darkness, he saw Maurice’s twisted expression. The man’s face was flushed with anger, beads of sweat glistening on his brow.

“Quiet woman,” Maurice barked, no more the smooth libertine, not taking his glare off Sai. He grabbed the front of Sai’s shirt, hauling him up slightly. “Who are you? What are you doing out here? Did my wife send you?”

“No, I don’t know your wife! I’m no…” Sai rasped out in an instant, his throat raw and dry. “I’m no one…”

“Liar!” Maurice snapped, shaking him again. Sai’s head lolled back, black dots swimming in his vision.

“I’m nobody!” he repeated, his voice carrying the desperation of a frightened child.

The woman touched Maurice’s arm, her face pale with only her lips stained bright red. “Maurice, just let him go. He’s just some boy—he doesn’t matter.” She tried to appeal

Maurice’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding audibly. “He’s seen us, idiot! If he runs his mouth, we’re done for. My wife-” he started to say.

“Where did you get this?” Maurice said, not to the woman but to Sai, as his hands reached for a brooch attached to Sai’s coat.

“I-I-I don’t-“ Sai eyed the glinting metal in Maurice’s fingers and was confused, replied but was shaken violently by Maurice.

“Where…I said where?” Maurice’s eyes went from fury to something else, like horror. His mouth slackened like the tension had been released.

Sai looked down and, for the first time, noticed the pin attached to the coat he had been wearing. It was of a bronzed sparrow with a sprig between its beak.

“I don’t know”, Sai finally found his voice. “I don’t know, it’s not mine.” he, too, wanted to know how he came to wear it and who it belonged to.

Maurice’s face darkened, his mouth thinning and wide with wild fury. His hands fisted at Sai’s collar. He leaned closer to Sai’s face before he spoke in a low grumble. “Of course, it’s not yours! This is my friend’s broch!”

Sai shook his head in answer; it wasn’t to deny Maurice’s claims but rather to express his own denials to the conflictions he felt within himself. Did I steal this from Maurice’s friend, and if so, had he been one of those men I killed? Sai continued shaking his head, not wanting his thoughts to be true.

Maurice’s grip tightened, the veins in his arms bulging as though he might strangle the truth out of Sai. His truth. “You— you lying wretch! What did you do to him?” he spat, his voice trembling with rage and something else Sai couldn’t quite place. Fear.

“I… I didn’t…” Sai stammered, his voice weak, cracking under the weight of his confusion. His mind was a fractured mess, shadows and memories swirling like a storm he couldn’t tame. The broch gleamed faintly in the low moonlight, mocking him, accusing him. He didn’t know how he’d come by it, but a sick feeling told him that somewhere, in the recesses of his broken memories, he did know.

“Maurice!” The woman grabbed his arm again, her voice sharper this time. Her pale face looked ghostly in the moonlight. “Please, we need to go. If someone finds us here—”

“No, not until I know how this rat got this!” Maurice ripped the broch from the coat. The ripping sound sent birds flying into the sky. “Listen to me, boy,” Maurice growled, his voice low and lethal.

“You’ll tell me where and how exactly you came to have this!” Maurice’s voice was low, and his words carried his threats.

Sai wanted to, but it started to happen again. The same thing had happened to him when the soldiers found him. He remembers now; it lulled him then, too. “Please...”

Sai’s lips parted as he tried to speak, but no words came. The edges of his vision blurred further, and a cold sweat broke over him. A strange sensation coiled in his chest—the ember of force flickered again, hotter this time, crawling up his spine. His heart thudded, not from fear now but from something else. Something darker. “You have to go!” he grabbed Maurice’s hands, still fisting his collars, and pleaded, “Go now if you want to live.”

“You son a whore”, Maurice’s voice thundered; Sai tried his hardest to cling to it, but he was being dragged deeper into oblivion. “You… you dare threaten me?!”

“Please, Maurice!” The woman pleaded, her eyes flickering toward Sai, pity or perhaps curiosity. “Let’s go back now!”

You’re wrong to pity me; you should pity yourselves, Sai thought bitterly, words seeming to elude his mouth.

“Shut it, woman! You can find your way back! ” Maurice spat out, shaking Sai, whose eyes were getting heavier.

With trembling hands, she tightened her bodice and left Maurice, turning back only once to see whether he would follow her. He did not. As she melted into the forest’s shadows, Maurice’s voice began to fade, swallowed by the whispers of leaves and the hum of unseen insects.

He reached for the broch in Maurice’s hand. “What do you think you are doing!” Maurice bellowed, startled by Sai’s guts.

Sai ignored him as if he were in his own world and turned the sparrow over, running his thumb across its polished surface. The sparrow’s wings looked poised to take flight, and the sprig in its beak was small and delicate. Sai’s brow furrowed. Why did it feel so familiar?

You killed his friend, and now you will do the same to him. The thought whispered through his mind, sinister and cruel. It jolted him from the slumber that started to pull him.

“No, I didn’t kill him”, Sai yelled out hoarsely to himself, shaking his head violently. He squeezed his eyes shut, but that only made it worse. Flashes of memory, quick and brutal, burst behind his eyelids. A blade. A scream. Blood splattered across the stone. Sai’s hand jerked away from the broch as though it had burned him. He pressed his palms into the dirt and grabbed a handful to steady and ground himself, but it was too late.

“I knew it! You killed my friend!” Maurice’s voice was full of conviction. His hands wrapped around Sai’s neck, ready to strangle him.

His heart thundered as the wind picked up, carrying with it a strange sound. Whispers.

Sai’s head snapped up, his eyes scanning the darkness, and finally, Maurice’s hands faltered. He looked around as if alerted, waiting for another assailant to emerge from the dark. The forest looked the same—twisting branches and crooked shadows—but there was something unnatural about it now. The air felt colder. Heavier. Like it was alive.

“Did you hear that?” Sai asked Maurice, his voice but a whisper.

“You crazy fool. “ Maurice let his collars go, the thud from Sai falling and echoing throughout. “I’m going to kill you.“ He stood over Sai’s body, intending to stand on his neck.

But Sai scrambled to his feet, shaking his head. He begged, “Don’t do this; they’re here.”

“You little shit, you planned this, didn’t-“ Maurice clutched the dagger from his belt, ready for a fight.

“Who’s there?” Sai interrupted and croaked, his voice barely audible. He didn’t expect an answer.

And yet, something did answer.

“You’re not who you think you are, Sai.”

The voice was soft, disembodied, and seemed to come from everywhere. Sai’s blood ran cold. He twisted his head in place, trying to find its source, but the forest was empty. He was alone with Maurice.

No reply. Just the wind hissing through the trees.

Sai’s breathing grew ragged again. He felt it—that other feeling creeping over him. The power. It clawed its way up from the depths of his being, hot and insistent, as though it was alive. And for the first time, Sai wasn’t sure if it was something to fear… or something to embrace.

“You killed them because you had to,” the voice whispered again. This time, it came from behind Sai. He whipped around, his heart pounding so hard that it might burst. But there was no one there.

“Stop it!” Sai shouted into the night. “Leave me alone!”

“You were playing with me! There’s no one here,” Maurice spoke as he looked around the empty forest. “There’s no one here!” he repeated as he lurched his body in Sai’s direction, intending to stab him in the chest, but it was too late.

Sai, who knew what would happen, could only shake his head, fearing everything that would happen and having no power to stop it.

The forest didn’t listen.

The voice didn’t listen.

“You’ve…we’ve only just begun.”

Sai collapsed to his knees, clutching his head as the whispers echoed inside his skull. Images flashed faster now—unrecognisable faces twisted in terror, hands reaching out for him, blood pooling at his feet. And above it all, that feeling of exhilaration. That power.

It was his.

And he couldn’t escape it.

“Sleep for now,” a soft and soothing whisper curled through his mind. The voice was familiar yet distant, like a memory long forgotten. “We shall meet again soon.”

Sai’s body went limp as darkness enveloped him, and Maurice’s shouting faded into a dull hum. The last thing Sai registered was the pair of pale, bare feet stepping closer, the voice lingering like smoke in the recesses of his mind.

How strange, he thought fleetingly, to feel so comforted in the presence of the unknown.

And then, there was nothing.