As Jaera placed the wet clothes on the laundry line, something eerie stirred in the wind. She kept glancing behind her, sensing someone there. There was no one, or so she thought. As she continued her duties, she heard footsteps and immediately spun around. Her daughter, who had been the culprit, screamed and jumped.

“Niamh! What have I told you about sneaking up on me?” Jaera scolded her.

The little girl, with brown hair in pigtails, winced. “Sorry, Mother, I just wanted to ask if I can play outside for a bit.”

Jaera sighed. “Are all your chores finished?” Her daughter nodded excitedly. “Very well, you can go outside but do not venture far, understand?”

“Yes, Mother, I promise.”

Jaera kept a close eye on the child as she ran wild outside around the house, completely blind to the world around her. Last night was the second night the Slaugh crept to her door and windows. She made sure all were locked and kept a knife under her bed. She also had Niamh stay close to her, especially at night. She told her daughter about the monsters at night, about how if she were to open a window or door, they would kill her brutally.

She hid nothing from Niamh regarding the reality of the situation, but today, she wanted to let her daughter be a child for once. Unfortunately, Niamh had no other friends her age because people in Stag were weary of her. They knew she existed and yet didn’t report her to the King. Yes, how noble of them, she thought. That did not mean she or her daughter were welcome in town, or even Tethys.

Her daughter giggled, twirling around uncontrollably, her long braided hair whipping her in the face until she became dizzy and fell over. “Told you I couldn’t spin that many times, silly!” she exclaimed. Jaera looked out the window. Who was she talking to? She couldn’t find anyone in sight but closely watched Niamh.

When that girl, Alessia, showed up at her house yesterday, she hid Niamh, concerned that someone from the Capital wanted to take them away. The girl was harmless and didn’t look like anyone from the King’s court. She thanked Tirren that nothing terrible happened and prayed more that night. However, there was something off about Alessia, like her soul didn’t match her life force. She wasn’t sure if the soul was malignant or not.

Niamh shrieked. Jaera snapped out of her thoughts, running to her daughter. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“My leg hurts,” Niamh said, wincing. She was crying uncontrollably.

“Let me take a look.” There were five tiny scrapes on her leg. “How did you manage that?”

“I – I fell.”

“Niamh Rhiannon Brónach Hennigan, you will tell me the truth this instant, or you will never play outside again!”

Niamh held onto her leg in pain. “Fine, fine, it was a lady wearing a hood.”

“Is that who you were talking to?” But her daughter didn’t respond. “Is that who you were talking to?” she repeated more sternly than before.

“No! That was my friend! I swear!” Jaera knew when Niamh didn’t tell the truth, and to no surprise, she was telling a lie. “Niamh, this is important. Was the hooded lady your imaginary friend?”

Her daughter sniffled and nodded. “Yes…”

Jaera knew her home was built on haunted grounds, but she never thought it would harm her daughter. She helped Niamh into the house, cleaning off her wounds. “What did this woman look like?”

“I don’t remember. Her hood always covers her face.”

“Did she tell you her name?”

Niamh shook her head.

She finished tending to the minor cuts on Niamh’s leg. “The next time she talks to you, tell me. It’s essential.” Jaera hadn’t seen the woman her daughter claimed to be friends with. Niamh referred to her as an invisible friend… and as far as she knew, there weren’t other times Niamh spoke to the woman. “Why did she hurt you?”

“I… I don’t remember.” Jaera sighed in frustration. How was she going to get her daughter to talk? If the mysterious woman threatened her, then Jaera needed to act. “Get dressed. We are going into Stag.”

Niamh didn’t falter; she ran into her room to get dressed. She needed a better weapon if magic wasn’t doing the trick. A blacksmith in town by the name of Lundys could help her out.

She held Niamh’s hand tightly. Once she entered the town with her daughter, there was no going back. Not even a little bit. All eyes were on her as if she were a curse. She warned her daughter not to look back at them.

Even more people died last night. Their homes were destroyed at the entrances, and the windows were broken. The ones not ravaged, bodies lay on the street, butchered from the waist up. She kept her sight straight ahead, ignoring the corpses littered on the ground.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The blacksmith’s hut still had smoke coming out of it—a good sign. “Pryce Lundys,” Jaera said as she walked inside the shop. The smell of melted metal filled her nostrils as she stepped further inside.

Lundys wore an apron, his face covered with ash from working in the shop all day. “Jaera, what are you doing here?” he asked.

“I need a weapon.”

“What kind?”

“A sword.”

He nodded. “Never thought you, of all people, would buy one.”

“With the way things are now, I don’t have much choice.”

“Mother, can we go now?” Niamh spoke up, tugging on her mother’s sleeve. “It’s stuffy in here.”

Lundys looked down at Niamh, the terrified little girl beside Jaera. She stiffened for a moment, studying his hazel eyes on her daughter. “Is that your…”

“The sword,” she snapped. “We were talking about the sword.”

Lundys did not break eye contact with Niamh. “How old is she.”

“That’s not what we –”

“Answer the question.”

Jaera exhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment. “Eight,” she replied. “She is eight years old.” She watched as Lundys stared at her with a shocked expression. Jaera slammed her hand on the counter. “I am here for business and business only.” Lundys almost stumbled backward at her outburst but steadied himself. “You chose your path, and I chose mine. She is not a part of our conversation, understand?”

Lundys’ face hardened, and without a word, left for the back and returned with a few blueprints of a sword. “Here is one. Small, but easier to carry. The second one has a longer, sharper edge. It can cut deeper, but it’s heavier.”

“Which one will get the job done?”

“Very well.” He pointed to the smaller sword blueprint. “I can have it done in a few days.” She would be damned if Lundys ever got to speak with Niamh, let alone spend time with her. The man chose to leave her eight years ago; why would he have a chance to see his daughter? “Are you positive you are safe?”

“Why do you care?” Jaera hissed. “You never tried asking before.”

“I didn’t want to until I found out you had a daughter. She’s eight? We were together eight years ago, and you never told me.”

“We are done here,” she said. She handed Lundys the bag of gold and gripped her daughter’s hand tightly before leaving the shop.

“Why do you need a weapon, mother?” Niamh asked, her innocent brown eyes looking up at Jaera.

“For our protection,” she replied, ignoring the stares from people in town.

“From the lady that hurt me?”

“That’s one reason. I don’t want you talking to her anymore, Niamh.”

“But – she didn’t mean to!”

“Niamh, listen to me. Friends don’t hurt each other.” She tried remaining calm and not realizing her anger too quickly. Whoever the woman was, Jaera would find her and make her regret ever crossing her daughter.

At home, there was a sense of someone watching her. She ensured Niamh didn’t leave her sight for a second and remained by her side for most of the morning. The uneasiness she felt earlier would not leave her mind. Regardless of what was thrown at her, she would ensure Niamh was safe and sound no matter the cost.

“Why can’t I go outside?” Niamh asked.

“You can, but not without me there. For now, you need to focus on your studies.”

The girl sighed. “I read that book a million times. Why can’t I read more important books?”

“It is an important book, Niamh. It helped me when I was your age with magic.” The poor child despised the book just like Jaera did at her age.

“I don’t even have magic, Mother!”

By the time Jaera was eight, like Niamh, she already developed her abilities. Niamh, however, did not show signs of having any. “You don’t know that. Keep reading.”

Niamh sighed again, but louder and more dramatic. “I hate that stupid book!” she exclaimed. The book she referred to described ancient magic used before laws forbade it.

Jaera could see her mother saying, “If she’s this stubborn now, imagine what she will be like when she’s older.” As she recalled, she gave her mother plenty of problems as a child, but when it came to studying, she found she learned a lot. Niamh was more about freedom than she was, probably getting it from her father.

She thought back to Lundys and how he seemed to know who Niamh was just by looking at her. Niamh did have his brown hair and square jaw, but his personality in her stood out—always on the inside looking out. Jaera didn’t doubt that only more of Lundys’ personality would appear in Niamh.

Only time will tell, she thought, preparing a broth with herbs she gathered in the morning. She added bits of leftover rabbit meat she salted days ago. She heard Niamh speaking in her room while making sure the water was boiling. At first, Jaera thought it was her reading the book aloud, but when she pressed her ear against the door, she realized it was a one-sided conversation.

“I am not allowed to talk to you.” Niamh paused. “No, she’s cooking.” She watched her daughter back away from the bed. “No, no, please. Don’t leave! I still want to be your friend!”

Jaera’s eyes widened. She burst open the door. “Niamh!” she shouted. “What are you doing?”

“Mother, I---”

“Step away from her!”

“She – She won’t hurt me!”

“I said step away, Niamh.”

“No! She’s mine,” the woman hissed, finally appearing in the light. With a burst of wind, she pushed Jaera and her daughter against the wall. Niamh screamed for her mother, but she couldn’t do anything, barely able to move against the wind the woman summoned against them.

Before the woman could throw more wind at them, Jaera put up a barrier for her and Niamh, blocking anything coming their way.

Jaera’s eyes narrowed at the cloaked woman. “Go back to the shadows, daemonium!” she screamed, holding her hand and concentrating on the dark figure before her. “Redire unde venisti!” Once she had a grip on the shadow, she clenched her fists, attempting to push it back into the void. But the shadow pushed back against her, sending her to the floor.

“Mother!” Niamh screamed, stepping in front of Jaera and holding her hands out. “Leave her alone!”

Jaera felt a cold touch on her arm and a sharp sting that caused her to cry out in agony. “Silly, shaman, you don’t have any power here.”

“May Tirren curse you!” she shouted.

“He blessed me, actually, but I suppose you already knew that.”

Jaera shook her head, refusing to believe such nonsense. Tirren was considered a neutral deity, but why would he… support evil? “No, he wouldn’t.”

“Ask him yourself. You pray to him every day, don’t you?”

She felt another sharp cut on her arm. Niamh begged the woman to stop hurting her mother, but it was brushed aside. “You bitch,” she muttered.

“There will come a time when your daughter will be mine,” the woman said, bending down to wipe Niamh’s tears away. “You can’t save her, Jaera.” The woman raised a cloaked dagger above her, plunging it into her body.

Niamh screamed, reaching for her mother, but Jaera, slowly losing blood from her punctured wounds, closed her eyes to face the darkness before her.