Colim Argen Marlvarson stood in solemn silence before the graves of his family, the cool mountain air still clinging to his clothes after his descent. He had climbed the treacherous peaks to offer a final prayer, a plea for strength and guidance as he prepared to walk the path of vengeance. Now, back in the quiet ruins of Eldoria, the pain of their loss cut deeper, like a fresh wound reopened.
His eyes, once filled with warmth and love, now burned with cold determination. He knelt beside the graves, his hand brushing lightly over the disturbed earth where his wife and children lay.
“My love, my children,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “I will not rest until those responsible have paid for what they’ve done. I swear it.”
As Colim rose to his feet, his gaze drifted westward, toward the distant mountains where the Torian Empire lay. His mind was set; his path was clear. He would cross the border, find those who led the attack on Eldoria, and bring them to justice, no matter the cost.
Just as he turned to leave, the sound of hooves broke the silence. Captain Bernan Rhaynan Tures rode up, his face etched with concern. The captain dismounted and approached, his eyes scanning the graves and then settling on Colim.
“Colim,” Captain Bernan began cautiously, “you don’t have to do this alone. Come back to the capital with me. We’ll find those responsible together. The king—”
Colim cut him off with a bitter smile, shaking his head. “No, Captain. This is something I must do myself. But when I’m dead, do me a favor: bury me next to my family. That is, if you find my body.”
Bernan’s brows furrowed, his voice tinged with confusion. “Don’t talk like that, Colim. You’re just a… well, you’re not a soldier. How can you expect to take on trained soldiers alone?”
Colim’s gaze hardened, his tone resolute. “This is my fight. And if the king asks for me, tell him this: Peace has already faded.”
Captain Bernan stared at him, bewildered. “What? The king? How did you know the king? What are you talking about?”
Colim didn’t respond. He simply raised his right hand in a slight wave, a final farewell, before turning away. His steps were resolute as he began his journey westward, toward the border of the Torian Empire.
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Days later, under the cover of darkness, Colim moved like a shadow through the forest. He had tracked a small group of Torian soldiers, their campfires flickering in the distance. Silently, he approached, his sword ready.
He crouched behind a tree, watching as two soldiers stood guard, their breath visible in the cold night air.
“You hear that?” one of the guards muttered, his voice low as he strained to listen to the night sounds.
“Nah, just the wind,” the other replied, though there was an edge of unease in his tone. He glanced around nervously, the dark forest pressing in on him. “Nothing ever happens out here. They’ve got us on the edge of the kingdom like we’re exiled or something. Makes me wonder what we did to deserve this.”
The first guard grunted, shifting his stance. “Maybe they think we’re expendable. Or maybe they’re just waiting for someone—or something—to pick us off.”
Colim waited for the right moment, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring. The first guard turned his back, oblivious to the silent death lurking in the shadows. With a swift, lethal strike, Colim's blade flashed in the moonlight, slicing cleanly through the guard’s throat. The man gurgled helplessly, his eyes wide with terror as he crumpled to the ground with a dull thud, his life extinguished in an instant.
The second soldier barely had time to react, his eyes widening in horror as he reached for his sword. But Colim was faster, slamming the hilt of his sword into the man’s temple with brutal force. The soldier’s knees buckled as he collapsed, consciousness slipping away.
Colim grabbed the groggy man by the collar, dragging him to the edge of the camp, away from the others. The soldier’s head lolled weakly as he struggled to focus, blood dripping from his split lip.
“What… What do you want?” he stammered, his voice trembling with fear.
Colim’s voice was cold, devoid of any trace of mercy. “Were you with the soldiers that attacked Eldoria?”
The soldier, though barely able to see straight, managed to sneer through his pain. “You think you can scare me?” he spat, blood staining his teeth. “You’ll never find out, fool. I’ll never talk.”
Colim’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in them as his grip tightened around the man’s throat. His voice dropped to a menacing whisper. “Then you’ll never talk again.”
Before the soldier could utter another word, Colim’s blade sliced through his throat with deadly precision. The man’s eyes widened in shock, the sneer frozen on his lips as blood poured from the wound, soaking the ground beneath them.
As the rain began to fall, washing the blood away, Colim let the body slump to the ground, lifeless and forgotten. He wiped the blood from his blade with cold efficiency and walked away without a second glance, his resolve unshaken and his mind focused on the vengeance that drove him forward.
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Colim soon reached a small village just inside the Torian border, a place barely more than a few scattered homes and a single inn. The sign above the door, weathered and faded, read “Kira’s Inn.” As Colim stepped inside, the air was thick with the stench of ale and smoke, and his gaze immediately fell upon a group of soldiers in Torian uniforms slumped over their drinks. Their voices were loud and careless, tinged with the unmistakable slur of drunkenness.
“...Wasn’t even invited to the damn party,” one of them grumbled bitterly. “Can you believe that? No one told us about the attack.”
Colim's heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to remain calm. The mention of the attack sent a wave of cold rage through him, but he kept his expression neutral, his voice steady as he approached the soldiers. “Do you know who led the attack on Eldoria?” he asked, careful to keep the edge out of his tone.
The soldier, eyes glassy and unfocused, looked up at Colim with a lazy smirk. “No, we don’t. And we’re mad as hell about it. No one invited us, and we missed all the fun.”
Fun. The word rang in Colim’s ears like a death knell. He could feel the fury rising within him, threatening to spill over, but he pushed it down, his face a mask of indifference. “Too bad. I heard it was quite the spectacle,” he replied, his voice cold.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Another soldier, sharper than the rest, leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “And who might you be? What business do you have asking about that?”
Colim met the man’s gaze, his eyes like steel. Inside, his blood boiled, but outwardly, he was the picture of calm. “Just a traveler looking for news,” he said evenly, his tone devoid of any emotion. “No harm in asking, is there?”
The first soldier shrugged, already losing interest. “Bah, who cares? We missed it anyway.”
Colim turned to leave, but as he reached the door, a voice cut through the air, sharp and suspicious. “Hey! Why’d you ask that? Are you a spy?”
Colim paused, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword. The accusation hung in the air, thick with tension. He could feel their eyes boring into his back, the weight of their suspicion like a physical force pressing against him. Slowly, he turned, his voice low and measured. “No. I’m not a spy, I assure you.”
But the soldiers were not convinced. The air in the room grew thick with unease, and Colim could see the doubt flickering in their eyes. He continued to the front desk, where the innkeeper, a wiry old man with a scar running down his cheek, regarded him with a wary eye. “Trouble seems to follow you, stranger. Be careful who you talk to.”
Colim’s grip on his sword tightened ever so slightly, but he forced himself to relax, nodding curtly. “I’ll keep that in mind. A room, please.”
The innkeeper handed him a key, his hand trembling slightly as he did so. “Top of the stairs. Last door on the right.”
Colim took the key and climbed the creaky stairs, each step echoing in the silence. He could feel the soldiers’ eyes on him, a palpable tension in the air. He knew they wouldn’t let it go. They couldn’t afford to.
Minutes later, as Colim began to settle in, the door to his room burst open with a thunderous crash, the force of it sending splinters of wood flying. The soldiers stormed in, their weapons drawn, eyes wild with a mix of fear and desperation.
But Colim was ready. He had been ready from the moment he heard their drunken suspicions downstairs. As the soldiers scanned the room, searching for him, Colim dropped from the ceiling, moving with the silence and precision of a predator. The first soldier barely had time to register what was happening before Colim’s blade sliced through his throat. The sound of steel against flesh was sickeningly soft, and the soldier’s eyes widened in shock as blood sprayed across the walls, his life ending in a gurgling gasp.
The second soldier lunged at Colim, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. Colim sidestepped with ease, driving his sword into the man’s chest with brutal efficiency. The soldier’s breath hitched, his eyes glazing over as blood bubbled from his mouth. He sank to the floor, his life draining away in a matter of seconds.
The third soldier, now fully aware of the deadly mistake they had made, let out a cry of pure panic. He turned to flee, but Colim was on him in an instant, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the wall with a force that rattled the entire inn. The man’s head hit the wood with a sickening crack, and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.
The last soldier, bleeding profusely from a deep wound in his abdomen, managed to prop himself up against the bed. He looked at Colim, his face twisted in a grimace of pain and fear. “You’re… good. A monster, but good,” he gasped, each word a struggle as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “But worth it. We had our fun… now you’ll have yours. See you… in the next life.”
Colim stared down at the dying man, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands trembled slightly as the soldier’s words echoed in his mind. Was this who he had become? A monster? The question gnawed at the edges of his consciousness, but he shoved it aside, locking away his emotions behind a wall of cold resolve.
With mechanical precision, Colim dragged the bodies out of the inn, his movements deliberate and unfeeling. The night’s silence was broken only by the distant rumble of thunder as he carried the corpses to the nearby river. The rain began to fall, its cold droplets mingling with the blood on his hands. Without a word, Colim heaved the bodies into the water, watching as they were carried away by the current, their faces disappearing into the darkness.
He stood there for a moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps, the reality of what he had done pressing down on him like a weight. No one knows what I did except the king… and now, no one ever will.
The rain continued to fall, washing away the blood and grime, but it could not cleanse the darkness that had taken root in his heart. Colim turned away from the river, his resolve hardening with each step. There was no turning back now. He had become something else, something far removed from the man he once was. And there would be no peace until those responsible for his pain were brought to their knees.
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The following day, as Colim prepared to leave the village, he met a woman who had not been at the inn that night. She approached him as he tightened the straps on his horse’s saddle, her movements graceful yet purposeful. There was a kindness in her demeanor that reminded him painfully of his late wife, but Colim knew better than to trust appearances.
“Leaving so soon?” she asked, her voice soft yet tinged with something more, something that set Colim on edge.
Colim glanced at her, his expression guarded. “Yes,” he replied curtly. “I have somewhere I need to be.”
The woman smiled faintly, though there was a sadness in her eyes that seemed genuine. “My name is Lyra,” she said, her tone almost too casual. “I’m a former Knorrian spy.”
Colim’s hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword, his muscles tensing as he assessed her words. A spy? Colim’s mind raced, trying to piece together what this meant. Does she knew what I did last night? and what happened to my family?, If she do, then she must be good at what she does and must've been Following me for a while but since when? And why reveal herself now? What’s her angle?
“What do you want?” Colim demanded, his voice low and threatening.
Lyra held up her hands in a gesture of peace, her eyes meeting his without flinching. “I’m here to investigate the attack on Eldoria,” she explained, her tone even. “I know what you did last night. Those soldiers… they were scum. They deserved what they got.”
"She knew!", "Then that answers my questions". Colim said in his inner voice.
Colim eyed her suspiciously, his thoughts a whirlwind of doubt and curiosity. She knows too much. Is she against the Torians, if she is then she could be an asset. Still, why should I trust her? Is this some sort of trap? His grip on his sword tightened momentarily, before he forced himself to relax. “Why should I trust you?” he asked, his voice cold.
Lyra met his gaze steadily, her expression unwavering. “Because we want the same thing: justice for those who were lost. And I can help you find those responsible.”
In her own mind, Lyra was assessing the man before her. He’s dangerous, that’s for sure. But with him by my side, I won’t have to worry about fighting if the need arises. And getting the information I need will be easy with someone like him. He’s skilled—more than I expected. She took a deep breath, sensing the tension between them. “Look, Colim, I don’t expect you to trust me right away. But I can help you. And whether you believe it or not, I want the same thing you do.”
Colim studied her for a long moment, his mind still racing. She’s saying all the right things, but is that because she means them or because she knows what I want to hear? Either way, she could lead me to the ones who destroyed my life. His grip on his sword loosened, though his tone remained stern. “One wrong move,” he warned, his voice dripping with menace, “and you’re dead.”
Lyra nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. “I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she replied calmly, though inside, she was relieved. He’s tough, but that’s what I need right now. Someone who won’t hesitate when the time comes.
Colim mounted his horse, still wary of the woman beside him. He kept his gaze forward as he spoke. “We leave now. Keep up, and don’t slow me down.”
Lyra nodded again, mounting her own horse. “I can handle myself,” she assured him, though her mind was already working on how best to gain his full trust. This man is no fool. I’ll have to prove my worth quickly.
Together, they set off for the next village, a place Colim hoped would yield more answers. As they rode, Colim’s mind was a storm of thoughts and suspicions. She’s hiding something; I can feel it. But for now, I’ll play along. I’ll use her to get what I need, and when the time comes, I’ll decide whether she’s truly an ally—or just another enemy to be dealt with.
Lyra, on the other hand, was focused on her own goals. This man is powerful, driven by something dark. If I can keep him close, I won’t have to worry about getting my hands dirty. Let him do the fighting; I’ll do the thinking. With his help, finding the ones responsible will be easy—too easy.
To be continued...