“The price of freedom is best paid in somebody else’s blood.”

— Stygian slave saying.

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

I'd be happy if the ground opened up and darkness swallowed me whole right about now.

“I warned you it would end in blood,” the voice at the other end of the sword grated.

The other two figures had stood up and circled around the other side of the broken tent. Two more swords pressed themselves up against my neck. I tried to think of a way out, but came up with nothing. For some reason, all that was on my mind was how I’d look like a lamb caught in steel jaws from above.

“I-” a metal edge trailed against my throat.

My breath caught in my throat. My muscles locked up. A cold sweat trickled down my spine.

“Save it for the captain,” the man oozed malice as he spoke.

For a moment, the gloom seemed to stretch towards the fireplace. I heard a woman shouting orders somewhere nearby. I blinked. The strangeness was gone.

“Now stand,” the soldier commanded. “And careful. My blade might slip. You understand?”

I nodded my head with the care of a wolf wriggling its paw in a hunter’s trap. My captor gave me a tight-lipped smile in response. I pressed my palms to the ground and crawled to my feet. The aches in my everywhere were shoved aside by the rough poking and prodding my captors tacked on. My heart beat just a little faster with each prick of the blades against my neck.

One of the guards moved in behind me and ripped the dagger out of the sheath on my leg. I opened my mouth to protest, only to receive another jab. It clammed shut once more. Step by step, they poked and prodded me towards the tall woman issuing orders. My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms as a simmering heat curled in my chest.

“— and I want you lot to check the watchtowers are secure,” the dark skinned captain pivoted, then looked our way. Her armour gleamed in the light. It was polished in a way that none of the others were.

“Captain Nia,” one of my tormentors saluted the woman, “Here is the troublemaker.”

“I expect you to spin me an absolutely fascinating yarn once I start asking questions,” her sky blue eyes met my own.

Three swords remained ringed around my neck. The short haired blonde with captain’s stripes stood in an open ring beside a blackened block of stone that stood on its own at the far end of the cathedral. I guessed it was what remained of an altar. It appeared as if she was using it as a table.

The shadows cast by the torchlight seemed to lengthen for a moment, then stretched in the wrong direction. Was I imagining it? The churning in my stomach said no. I blinked again. They snapped back to where they were.

The captain focused on her soldiers once again and continued issuing orders. I didn’t pay any attention to what she said. I focused on the shadows, then pushed. For a few heartbeats, I felt nothing. Then, the faintest of responses. They flickered from one side of the light to the other, only to return to where they were before. I glanced around.

“— involved were you bags of coin in this mess?” captain Nia asked.

The pot-bellied merchant and his wife had been herded towards the other side of the block.

“I assure you that any fault in this matter lies squarely with the girl,” the man tugged repeatedly at the silk tassels hanging off his rich blue jacket.

Nobody appeared to have noticed. I bit down on my tongue, then winced. Better that then to smile. I reached out to the shadows again, only for them to slip from my grasp. It felt like trying to move an ox using only a yarn of wool. Something about the experience made me feel uneasy. I pushed the feeling aside. I couldn’t afford to hesitate if I wanted to live.

“That would be convenient for you, wouldn’t it?” Nia tapped one of her feet against the floor. “I think it’s safer if I take you prisoner regardless. My superiors would have my hide if I let someone important slip through the cracks.” She gave them a hard smile. “Unless you have some way to convince me otherwise?”

I ignored the interrogation in favour of planning my way out of the nest of hornets that I’d landed in. My attention split. Half of it went to fight with the shadows, the other half went to finding ways to stall. I wasn’t sure if I could lie my way out of it, but I’d try it before I tried anything else. Each attempt to tug at the shadows proved only a little less frustrating than the one before. Captain Nia ordered the merchants to be taken prisoner, then focused on me.

“Now,” she smiled. It wasn’t reassuring. “You’re going to sell me a story. I’d recommend that you make it convincing.”

“Didn’t mean to interrupt the show,” One of the blades against my neck pressed harder. I winced, but quickly gritted my teeth, refusing to give them the satisfaction. “Could you just carry on with the act as if I wasn’t here?”

“Show?” there was a harsh clang as she clapped. “This should be good.”

“Isn’t this a theatre troupe?”

I reached out to the shadows cast by the furthest torch in the broken cathedral and tugged. It was better to experiment where it was harder to spot. The response was faint — sluggish — but there was a response. They felt cold, slippery, almost alive. My fingers twitched as I started to figure out what I could do.

“A… theatre troupe?” she blinked.

“I sneaked in to watch the re-enactment of the Many Deaths of Traitorous,” I lied. “You were just about to stage the scene where-”

The shadows barely responded. They were sluggish and uncooperative.

“Where we descend into the caverns to slaughter the Order of the Unholy Obsidian,” she rubbed her forehead and sighed. “The Grandmaster feigns death, only-

“— to reveal that he was Dread Emperor Traitorous all along,” I finished.

“That is indeed how it goes,” she mused.

I tried to push them closer, push them into the flame. It was easier at first, then became more challenging once I passed a point about half the distance between where the shadows would usually lie and their source.

“That’s right,” I gave her a wide-eyed stare. “So, can I watch?”

“I’d love to know how a girl with Deoraithe blood like you even learned that story,” she muttered. “It was a nice try, kid, now try another one. Let’s start with your name.”

“Taylor,” I lied.

That hero might as well be useful for something.

“Right, Taylor…” she tasted the name. “Since you’re feeling so creative, let’s give this another go. Explain this,” she tapped the dagger beside her on the altar.

“It’s for gutting fish.”

“Fish,” her eyebrows rose. “And the armour?”

“They have large teeth.”

Her lips twitched.

“The Wasaliti River is of course a well known place to fish,” the words were drier than the hottest of summers in Laure.

The blackness had pooled around the base of the torch and formed a concentrated blob. I prodded them on one side, only for them to push back on the other. Frustrated, I started to squeeze lightly against them from all sides at once.

“That was the plan?”

“There are faster ways to catch fish,” Nia folded her arms.

“Like what?”

“We could always test that armours resilience,” she grinned at me, “after all, I’m certain that you’d make for good bait.”

“There isn’t much meat on my bones.”

“Right. I’ve heard enough of this,” her voice became hard. “Tell me a story that doesn’t end with a blade through-”

I gave the shadows one last shove. The umbral working slammed into the pole. There was a thunderous crack as the torch exploded into a rain of splinters. I winced as another blade pricked at my throat. The murk spilled over the leftmost corner of the cathedral.

Silence fell.

Every Legion soldier in attendance turned their attention towards the disturbance.

Nia’s gaze returned to me.

“What was that?” I asked.

She pursed her lips.

“You should look at it before somebody else falls in,” I tried.

She tapped her fingers against her side. A soldier approached from our right and asked for orders. She addressed them for a heartbeat, before returning the full weight of her gaze to me more.

“You know,” she began, dragging out every word. “As entertaining as the tale you’ve woven so far is, I’ve only got so much time. Start speaking, kid,” her voice took on a hard tone. “Better make whatever tale you tell me this time a good one.”

“It’s smarter to just kill her, Captain. She could be a hero,” my leftmost captor suggested.

“She’s not a hero,” Nia dismissed.

“But the torch-”

“Events like that occasionally occur in the wasteland when it’s cold,” the captain’s armour rustled as she pointed towards the splinters.

“It’s not cold, Captain,” Zulmat tried once more.

“I’m not hearing any more about this,” she stated. “The girl is a spy, not a hero. We’d be dead otherwise.”

I bit my tongue a second time in an effort to hide my fear. What could I do to get out of this? I tried to pull on all the darkness at once, only for them to flee from my grasp. I almost growled. No, better to wait. There was a narrow hope I’d be kept with the other prisoners. It would be easier to escape without blades at my throat.

“We’re not equipped for an interrogation,” the man muttered.

“There’s a chance of promotion for me depending on what the kid knows,” her attention left Zulmat and returned to me. “Now talk. Whatever tale you weave this time better be convincing.”

“I thought they were all good,” I grumbled, only to receive another jab from a blade.

Right, pointy swords ringing my neck. Don’t forget that, Cat.

“I’m the Black Knight’s Squire,” I lied. “He sent me here to fetch something.”

“I’m sure you could tell me exactly what that something is.”

“I don’t know,” I lied. “I was only told that they had it.”

“A likely story,” she snorted. “Although… that lie might have even got past me if you had opened with it.”

“He wanted me to probe your fortifications.”

“Did he?” there was something hidden in her voice that I couldn’t quite piece together. She folded her arms once again. “Tell me,” she whispered, “what conclusion have you come to?”

“Are you sure you’re even proper Legion soldiers?” I asked. “You should have caught me long before I got this far. And really, not one of you are standing in form-”

“I’ve had enough lip and not enough actionable information for one night,” Nia interrupted, then turned towards my captors. “Give her a reason to be less mouthy.”

My breath caught in my throat. Captain Nia thought I was a spy. She wanted to keep me alive for answers. Maybe trying to escape wasn’t so stupid.

They pulled back their arms.

Run!

I pivoted and dashed between two of the guards… perhaps I could-

Crack!

Pain. A gauntleted fist took me on the jaw. I tried to rise to my feet.

You can get out of this, Cat. You have to.

Crack!

I whimpered. Another fist, this time to the side of my ribs. This time I didn’t even reach my knees before I was sent cracking to the ground. I started to hum an unknown tune at the back of my head. Anything to keep away the throbbing in my sides.

Crack!

My eyes stung. I… wasn’t going to get away. I curled up into a ball on the ground. Fury burned deep within my chest. I hated this. I wasn’t going to let them-

A boot slammed against my arms.

Crack!

I lost count of the strikes. It wasn’t so bad at first. No worse than anything I’d endured before. What hurt far more was the humiliation. I should have been faster. I should have been more aware. All that time spent stealing from merchants only to suffer through this. Then those thoughts died as the strikes all blurred together. The world became a wash of colours as every part of me lit up in agony.

It dragged on.

And on.

And on.

Too long. Was the torture ever going to end?

Make it stop.

Make it stop.

Please?

I started to pull back into myself. My mind faded. A salty, metallic taste pooled at the base of my mouth. Everything became muted. A seed of spite planted itself within my heart. Why was everything spinning? Were those clouds? Why were there so many people around me? Why did the Captain have four arms? There was a ringing noise in my ears. I almost seemed to float.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

No.

I was floating.

Captain Nia was dangling me off the ground by my ponytail. The air was rank with the scent of blood and bile. She seized my jaw tight with the other hand, then leaned in close and pressed her face against my ear.

“I should have had a promotion months ago. Instead, I’m stuck here waiting out some two bit good for nothing Sahelian sorcerers!” She paused. “Goblins are the true virtuosos when it comes to torture,” her words were whispered like sugar, but there was nothing sweet about them. “They can compose a symphony from your screams. I suggest you start singing before our mission here ends. I’ll turn you over to them if you don’t.”

I spat flecks of gore in her face. It was easier than trying to talk.

She slapped me across the face, stepped away, then dropped me on the ground. Was my arm supposed to look like that? I didn’t think it was.

“Give her some time to think with the other three prisoners,” she commanded, “but pay more attention to her.” She patted me on the cheeks. “Wouldn’t want dear Taylor here to get any ideas about escaping, would we?”

Zulmat grabbed me by the shoulders and guided me away. A lance of pain arced through my legs with every step I took. Between a line of tents, through an open archway and down a set of stairs.

“Used to hate beating kids like you,” he grunted. Then I got over it. Should’ve listened, kid,” the man muttered. “Shouldn’t have tried anything.”

The staircase opened out into a wide room with a narrow corridor on the other end. The corridor was barricaded by a combination of rocks and a palisade fence. Two men manned the barricade. I was guided to a room on the left shared by the merchants. Both of them glared at me as I was led inside.

There was another guard. Zulmat talked to him for a few heartbeats, adjusting his battered gauntlets every other moment while he talked. Told him not to take his eyes off me. Then, he approached. Zulmat spent a few moments pulling off my armour before I was sent sprawling against the floor in my dull cotton shirt and trousers. I didn’t look at my arms or legs. I didn’t want to see the bruises on them.

The woman pulled her yellow dress back into the corner and sniffed.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

The sounds of footsteps faded away.

Get your head together, Cat.

I opened my eyes. I spat onto the floor. It wasn’t enough to clear the salty tang of blood staining my mouth.

I’m fine. I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong. I can do this. I can get out of this.

My arms trembled. Shallow breaths escaped my lips.

Don’t give up. It’s bad, but the streets were worse. I can get out of this. Right?

I blinked.

I held up one arm before me and saw two.

This… wasn’t good.

I looked around.

There was either one or two brown eyed guards seated on a chair beside the doorway and only a single light beside them.

I considered them for a few moments and decided that there was only one.

What now?

A part of me argued that I should just stay here. It argued that it was better than to risk being hurt again. I stomped down on it. I wasn’t prepared to give up. Not now. Not ever. I’d rather do anything than give up.

This would be so much easier if I was ten years older and twice as tall.

I reached towards the dimming light behind the guard. The darkness billowed as I called. The feeling was still tenuous, but this time there was a difference. It was almost like an eager beast. I had no clue what I was doing. I had no clue what I could do with them.

What I did know was that I only had one chance to escape. There was no chance that they wouldn’t kill me if I was caught. So I focused my attention on the guard’s neck. Focused, then squeezed.

The shadows answered.

The guard’s eyes widened for a few moments — it looked as if he was about to rise — I focused on his legs next. Then, his arms. It was working. My plan was working! I smiled, then winced as my shirt brushed against my bruises.

An uneasy feeling settled within my gut as the man writhed against his tenebrous bonds. The flame flickered. The shadows stretched. I brushed the feeling aside. It didn’t matter if this was right or wrong. Now wasn’t the time to hesitate. I needed to survive.

I heard a gasp from behind me.

The merchant’s wife was staring at me with wide eyes. An umbral gag shoved itself into both of their mouths. My head throbbed. Effort. Using the shadows this way drained me like nothing else. I didn’t have it in me to do much more. I couldn’t afford to restrain them.

“Stay here and keep quiet,” I grinned their way even though it hurt.

A distant part of me noted that I’d never seen someone with dark skin pale before.

There was a first time for everything.

I released the gag, then turned back to the guard. My shoulders relaxed when neither of them said a word. A couple of hundred more heartbeats passed before the guard slumped. Dead. He was dead. I waited a little longer before releasing him, then sighed in relief.

I hobbled to my feet.

One step forward.

Rats gnawed my sides.

I let out a gasp, then clutched at my chest. None of this was a good idea, but I was already in too deep to do anything but try to swim out. That, or drown. I didn’t fancy the idea of drowning.

Another step. Then another. I collapsed against the wall. Where was the corpse? It was on the other side of the room. My everything protested as I collapsed to the floor, then crawled to the other side. I struggled with the guard’s weapon for a moment before realizing that I was too hurt to fight with a blade.

What next? Out. I needed to escape. Could I stand? I didn’t want to stand.

No Cat, don’t think that way.

I fought with the stool for a few moments, before leaning against the wall.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Release.

I limped my way out of the temporary prison and stuck my head around the corner. Both the guards at the palisade were alert, but not looking my way. I pulled at the shadows once again.

They answered even faster this time.

Agony danced down my sides. I needed a distraction from my wreck of a body. Would a song work? I knew a few, but none seemed appropriate. Battlefield songs didn’t fit this kind of execution, but the only other music I knew was church hymns and nursery rhymes.

Both men struggled against their inky prisons. Fought, but made no headway.

I took another step forward. My head spun.

“One… Two…” I began to hum in an effort to keep away the pain. “I’ll find you.”

My opponents’ eyes fell upon me, then widened.

“Three… Four…” I continued. “Blood on the floor.”

Their faces began to purple.

“Five… Six…” I winced, “Your head on the bricks.”

I hobbled my way towards the staircase as they collapsed on the ground.

“Seven… Eight…” I whispered. “It’s much too late.”

I didn’t know how much time I had before somebody came to investigate. I kept humming as I climbed. A dozen steps up and I slipped. I cursed the stairs as I forced myself back to my feet.

“— think we’ll see anything else this evening?” a woman asked from above.

“Hope not,” somebody replied. “Quiet nights are the best.”

My eyes peeked over the top of the staircase. I called upon the beast once more. The shadows answered. They coiled tight around both of the guards neck's. There was a snap. I blinked through the fog around my thoughts. Both of them crumpled to the ground.

Dead.

Two more steps, then I slammed into the ground. The cut of a knife jolted through me again. I felt metal squeeze around my neck.

“What did you do to them,” a voice hissed into my ears.

Another fist crunched against my chest.

I tried to escape the hold. Jab to ribs, pivot, pull. My fingers struck against steel. The grip on my neck tightened.

“There’ll be none of that,” the man growled.

I heard his fist pull back again.

Short, quick breaths fled from my lips. What now? How do I get out of this? I reached for the shadows blindly. Reached, pulled, pushed.

A fan of inky blackness with a razor sharp edge swirled out from me.

My assailant didn’t even have time to shriek before they were shredded. Blood. So much blood. Ribbons of gore splashed outwards. Small chunks rained back down upon me. I was drenched from head to toe in somebody else’s blood. I hobbled back to my feet. My right arm remained cradled against my chest as I limped towards the door.

The passage was deserted save for the dull flickering of torchlight.

One by one I snuffed them all out.

The low murmur of voices in the main chamber brought me to an abrupt halt.

My heart raced.

Angry insects swarmed beneath my skin. I blinked. Eerie phantoms danced behind my lids.

I stepped into the chamber and heaved.

It was so much easier than before.

The light within the cathedral died.

There was a brief moment of confusion as Legion soldiers scrambled from their tents. A dark thread lashed out. Then another. Then another. Their necks snapped one by one. The captain. Where was the captain? She and I had a talk to finish. A Legion soldier’s eyes fell upon me. A lance impaled him from below.

A rattle. Was that a crossbow? I staggered to the side and fell against the altar.

The gloom roiled.

Soldiers shouted, cried, whimpered. Swords rattled. A group of five — maybe ten — of them formed up into a line behind shields.

Their efforts amounted to nothing.

A wave rose up.

A wave crashed down.

Dissipated.

All of them were gone.

A distant part of me felt the thrill of combat. Another part of me recoiled in horror. Both were muted, drowned out beneath an ocean of suffering.

I stumbled through the camp in a daze.

This was what you wanted, right Cat?

The beast purred. I shook. The sensation was strong. It called to me, crooned. Whispered sweet promises into my ears. All I needed to do was go along with what it wanted.

It was so tempting.

So easy.

All I needed to do was feed its endless gluttony.

I felt its call thrum through me once again.

My mind was far away.

Where was the captain?

Another step.

Then another.

No, that was the wrong way. More to the right.

I tripped once more. The fingers of my left hand curled around the hilt of a blade. I dug the point of the blade into the stone. I trembled. Crimson stained hair fell before my eyes. I didn’t have it in me to brush it away. I heaved.

Shallow breaths.

I staggered through the door of the cathedral out into the open courtyard. Pony stood completely unruffled where I’d left her at the ruins of the stables. The cool evening air settled upon my forehead, mixed in among the sweat and blood. Silent. It was so silent. A stark contrast to the chaos inside the cathedral. Was it always like this? Another blink. I pulled the shadows in towards me. A blanket. Something to hide me from the world.

Was there anyone else? I looked around. I didn’t see anyone else. Best not to leave it to chance.

Another step.

I wasn’t sure where my feet were taking me.

Anywhere was better than… than…

Anywhere was better than here.

Lights up ahead.

A roar. A loud roar from below. Was that the beast? No, it was something else. Water. The river. Was that the bridge?

I let out a strangled laugh.

The captain. Halfway along the bridge. There was the captain.

Whiff. Whiff. Whiff.

The lights on the bridge snuffed out.

Another step.

Commotion on the watchtowers. That wasn’t… wouldn’t do. I called and the shadows answered. A wave of tendrils rose up from the ground, then slammed into the towers. The base of the towers shook, then shattered. There were screams, then sickening thuds.

Another step.

The captain had drawn her sword.

That wouldn’t do. Ropes around the arms and the legs and the neck. Ropes to lash and cut and bind.

She was opening her mouth.

“Perhaps I misjudged,” she sounded unruffled. “Perhaps you are his appr-”

I didn’t… didn’t want to hear her speak.

Not because what she said was wrong, but because I didn’t want to hear a word of it. Not from her, at the very least.

Captain Nia’s eyes narrowed as shadows coiled themselves around her mouth. She thrashed from side to side. Her efforts yielded as many fruits as beggars fighting over crumbs in an empty bowl.

My anger was far away, distant, buried beneath the pain. She was the reason I was hurting. She was the reason for all of this. I wasn’t going to let her escape.

Eerie tendrils dragged her to the edge of the bridge. She thrashed against her bonds. Struggled and glared. Her efforts amounted to nothing.

I staggered over.

Shadows pulled her over the lip.

The sword I was using to support myself clattered to the ground as I seized her by the neck.

“I think…” I rasped. “I think the fish will like the taste of you more.”

A spear of shadows pierced through her heart.

I shoved, then turned.

There was a muted splash as her corpse plunged into the frigid waters.

Where should I head to next?

I raised a bloodstained hand and considered it for a moment.

The truth stared back at me.

I’m not a hero, am I, Cat?

The uncomfortable knot in my stomach bubbled up. Acid burned in my throat. I heaved.

Come to your senses.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t fight for what I believed in. It just meant that I’d need to do things differently. The heroes… couldn’t hear about this. I wanted to support them. I needed to support them.

What should I do?

Witnesses. I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave any witnesses.

The watchtowers on the other side. The merchants.

I picked up the sword and staggered my way back to the Blessed Isles.

One step. Then another. Then another.

It was hard to ignore the dull droning at the back of my head. It was hard to ignore the whimpers crawling out of my throat. I crossed the Blessed Isle and cleared out the watchtowers on the opposing side. It was trivial after everything else. At last, I returned to the cathedral. All my strength had long since gone out of me. My eyelids dragged on the ground.

I wasn’t sure how many times my leaden limbs had stumbled before I passed through the broken arch again.

Somebody had relit the torches.

My eyes trailed over the corpses. I was too fatigued to properly appreciate the carnage. I spotted three people standing at the far end of the room. The merchants. They were bound, tied up on the altar.

“Promise to let me leave,” Zulmat said from the opposite side of the altar.

The words came as such a surprise that they almost sent me sprawling to the floor.

“Why?”

I didn’t see a convincing reason to.

“I’ll let them live,” he tapped the edge of his blade against their throats. “You’re with the rebellion. Heroes don’t let innocents die.”

They're Praesi merchants. They're with the enemy. You can't let them rat you out.

I squashed down another empty laugh. It wasn’t worth the pain.

“I don’t think,” I coughed, “I don’t think that I’m a hero.”

Even if I wanted to be one.

Darkness swelled. Three pairs of eyes widened. A wave of shadows crashed on the altar.

Silence fell once again.

I limped over to the altar. Set down the sword. Leaned against it and closed my eyes.

Not even the distant murmuring of two voices was enough to break me out of my exhaustion.

I saw a yellow light through the lids of my eyes. A coolness washed over me, then the agony disappeared.

Dirty purple robes greeted me as I opened my eyes.

I looked up. Met the gaze of two Praesi men. The sorcerers. I’d forgotten about the sorcerers. I said some words then — I can’t remember what — before closing my eyes again.

The three of us all departed for Summherholm a few hours after the dawn of the next day.

The mission was a success. It wasn't enough to shake the shroud that had fallen over my thoughts. The Legion soldiers were dead. I should be happy. I should be celebrating. A part of me even was. There was a tiny sliver which was steeped in satisfaction. Everything about that part unsettled the rest of me.

Was this really who I was?

Was this what I was supposed to be?