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Chapter Text

Gray. That's all that's in line of sight. Her line of sight. Consciousness ebbs and flows, like being half asleep. 

She doesn't feel warm or cold. Bright or dark. Not that it can be differentiated. The moment after she senses something she fades. There is no time. No end to the gray. 

A flicker of purple rouses her. First almost imperceptible, then blinking right in her eyes. She shrinks away from it, not realizing she couldn't closer her eyes before.

She instinctually lifts a hand to shield her eyes. She had those before, didn't she?

The light grows in intensity. Or maybe gravity is pulling her closer. It's difficult to tell. 

As the purple increases, the gray seems to fade. 

She reaches out as she grows closer to the source. It fractures, humming as thin vines of light branch outward.

Her hand passes through it, feeling something...warm. 

She drifts closer, her curiosity almost pulling her towards the light. The gravity shifts. Like drifting towards the surface of water. 

She reaches her other hand through, feeling the warmth in her hands growing. White shines through on the other side.

She kicks, trying to propel herself upward. Getting closer, causes her movement to slow. She kicks harder, desperately trying to see what is on the other side.

As she gets closer, her hands feel something to grab hold of. She grips the sides of something, pulling herself upwards. 

White light blooms as she pushes upward...

She blinks awake, lying on her back. Above her is a pale blue sky, framed by branches of...trees. 

She cranes her neck to look around. It's a clearing of some sort, surrounded by trees on all sides.

As she tries to sit up, her head aches. Her eyes adjust to the darker light under the tree line. She leans against her arm, massaging her head. 

Long, dark hair sways in her eyes. She uses a hand to brush it away from her forehead. 

In that moment, she sees black markings on the back of her hand. A curved shape, with more dots of black framing it. Her eyes trace up her forearm, then her bicep and shoulder, seeings similar markings. Investigation of her other arm reveals a matching set of markings. 

Her eyes flit to her legs, which have even more markings. They trace upwards, stopping at the hem of a small white tunic that ends just above the middle of her thigh, the only covering she seems to have. 

She doesn't know how the fabric is still so pristine. She doesn't remember changing into it. She also doesn't remember wearing any other clothing. How did she-

Snap

A sound breaks the ambient quiet of the clearing. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the source. Someone else, obscured in the shadows below the trees. 

The first thing that stands out is green eyes. They're the only thing visible on the figure's face. Dark hair obscures their forehead. A hood covers the rest of their body. 

Wait.

She calls out to them. Her voice comes out dry and soft. When was the last time words danced across her tongue. 

Pupils shrink as they retreat backwards. 

She calls out again.

Wait!

Her desperation to talk to someone else does not stop them from running. 

She rolls over, leaning on both her hands as she tries to crawl. They're way too fast.

Hands push off the ground as she swings her knee below her torso. She manages to get to her feet, swaying on wobbly legs. She doesn't have time to get her bearings. Not now.

She stumbles into the woods. Her bare feet catch on loose rocks and sticks. The pain only pushes her to stumble forward faster. 

She leans against a nearby tree trunk, looking to see where the figure went. Pale blue light shines ahead. Perhaps getting out of the trees may help her spot them easier. She pushes off of the tree and scrambles to the clearing. 

The light is getting brighter. This must be it. She picks up speed.

Before she even realizes what is happening, the ground becomes unstable. The forest gives way to a hillside. The loose rocks and dirt cause her to trip, rolling down the hill. Pebbles and stones scrape her arms as she tries to break her fall. 

She has to find them. Where could they have gone? She scrambles to her feet. 

She circles around, looking back at the trees. Searching for those green eyes. 

That circle is interrupted, however, as she backs squarely into something. Or rather, someone. 

She spins around, seeing the chest of someone else. Her hands meet something rough and solid. Pads of some sort on a tunic or something.

Her eyes shift upwards. Their head is partially covered with something shiny and metallic. She isn't able to see their eyes behind a mask but she sees a mouth sitting open in what she can only guess is confusion. A jagged pink line traces down their cheek. Stubble grows along his chin and upper lip.

Her hands retract from their chest. She feels her cheeks flush. 

I'm sorry. I was looking for someone, a man with green eyes. Have you seen him?

The person with the hidden eyes mouthes something. Their head cocks to the side. 

She repeats the question, her frustration only growing.

They shake their head. Words escape their mouth, or at least she thinks they do. They sound sharp. Unfamiliar. Their voice still conveys confusion.

The woman repeats the question again. Again, they answer with unrecognizable speech. 

She panics as she steps backward. Why can't they understand her?

Chapter Text

Garroth could feel sweat collecting under his mask. The growing heat as April changed to May always made him rethink wearing his mask.

Doing his rounds felt more like sleep walking after a few years, especially as more people had moved out to Meteli or Brightport. Not that he blamed them. 

Even if they hadn't lost their lord, the soil of Phoenix Drop had been getting more infertile since a famine had struck them a year ago. Considering Phoenix Drop got most of their income from farmed goods, that hadn't exactly been easy on the residents. Those that couldn't manage moved out for better land. The merchants that depended on their crops would leave too, not having anything to buy or sell. 

Still, Garroth was obligated to look after those who remained. The old lord had been very hands on, leaving no officials or advisors to take up his post. That left Garroth as the highest ranking person in town. Much to his chagrin.

Garroth finally reached the edge of town. A short hill of gravel lead up to a line of old trees. The cracked cobblestones of the roads of Phoenix Drop gave way to a dirt road that snaked right into the forest. Half a day's trek down that road would lead one to Meteli. 

Garroth turned the corner, leaning back against the brick wall of one of the houses. He sheathed his sword and slung the strap of his shield over his back. A breeze was blowing through the trees. For just a moment, he reached a hand up to open his visor. The cool air was a great relief. He was only going to get less of it as spring turned to summer. 

The echo of a shout brought him back to reality. He slid his visor back down and pushed off of the wall. He looked around, searching his field of view for a villager. 

Nothing?

His head swiveled back to the woods. He paused to listen. He could hear footsteps and rustling of brush inside. No source was visible yet. 

In just two motions, he unsheathed his sword and brandished his shield, stepping closer to the edge of the forest. 

Before he could react, a figure tumbled down the gravelly hill to his left. All he could make out was a gangly figure with long dark hair in a white tunic. 

The person stumbled to their feet. They wobbled around, looking back at the tree line. 

Garroth crept closer. They didn't look like a bandit. Wouldn't a bandit have a weapon of some sort? 

Still, it didn't mean they weren't dangerous. A mage could do much with very little. 

As he grew closer, Garroth could make out their features better. Amber eyes with thick dark lashes. Curling tattoos or markings that snaked around their limbs and over their collar bones. His breath caught as he saw their incredibly feminine face twisted in confusion and fear. 

Garroth froze, not being able to move as she stumbled into him. Her hands pressed against his gambeson as she looked towards his face. 

Her eyes softened. Words spilled from her mouth. What was she saying?

Her eyebrows furrowed. She repeated herself. Or at least he thought. Her words resembled Ru'aunian but were jumbled. 

"I don't know what you're saying. Can you speak Ru'aunian?"

Her eyes widened. She looked terrified. Betrayed even. Her hands retracted from his armor. 

"Look, just stay here. I can-" His eyes landed on scratches on her knees. "You're injured."

She backed away, the look of confusion still lingering on her face.

He pointed at her legs. She looked even more confused. She said more words that he couldn't decipher.

"Uh...you know?" He leaned down and rubbed his knee. "Ouch?"

 "Ouch..." she said, nodding as she echoed his words.

He reached out a hand. She flinched at the sudden motion. Garroth slowly sheathed his sword. 

He raised a hand to his chest, pointing a finger at his heart. 

"Garroth," he said slowly. "I am Garroth."

One of her hands played with the hem of her tunic, almost nervously. After what felt like an hour, she reached out a hand. Garroth slowly reached out to take her hand.

Out of the corner of his eye, Garroth say someone race from behind him. Clang.

Before either Garroth or the woman in white had any time to react, someone had swiftly knocked her out with the pommel of their sword. Garroth rushed to stop her from hitting the ground.

Garroth immediately felt his face go red with anger. "What the hell, Zenix?!"

Zenix, now lowering his sword, gave him a look that resembled a frightened deer. Wavy dark hair was tousled as he adjusted his cap with his free hand. 

"Sir, I...thought she was a bandit. I was watching from over there..." He pointed his sword towards another town road that had a row of abandoned houses. "I swear...I didn't see you."

Zenix's mumbling trailed off as he sheathed his sword. 

Garroth sighed. "While I do appreciate your diligence, you need to pay better attention next time. You easily could have avoided this had you stopped yourself upon seeing me."

Zenix frowned. "But at the Academy-"

"The Academy prepares soldiers for war. O'Khasis cares more for funding their military than building up other villages around them. This village needs peacekeepers, not conquerers, Zenix."

Zenix shut his mouth after that comment. Garroth moved back to the woman. He wrapped one of her arms around his neck. He cradled her legs in one arm and her head and shoulders in the other, lifting her up. 

"Summon Zoey to the Guard Tower. She already had injuries before you beat her upside the head. I'd like to make sure she is healed properly. After that, you tell Dale to sweep the perimeter."

Zenix scoffed. "Dale?! But that drunk ass ends up getting lost whenever he does perimeter! I end up having to do it on my own anyway," Zenix protested, grinding his feet in the gravel.

"That's an order, Zenix. Be glad you don't have more."

Zenix growled and stomped off.

Garroth sighed as he moved the woman's arm to sit on her torso rather than swinging. Then he headed towards the guard tower.

Chapter Text

Garroth crouched next to the cot where he had laid the woman. He gently laid a blanket over her.

The door to the guard tower swung open as Zenix finally entered with Zoey.

The elf stood a few inches taller than Garroth and at least half a foot taller than Zenix. Her honey blond hair was braided out of her face and adorned with ornaments that resembled leaves. Her elongated ears would occasionally tinkle as her earrings swung with her movement. She was still in the process of tying a brown leather apron over her forest green dress as she entered. 

"Oh, good. You got her comfortable. I'll use the table for my supplies."

Zoey got to work unfurling a pack of her healing supplies. She got to work uncorking vials of herbs and grinding them with a mortar and pestle.

Garroth used a knee to push himself off the ground.

"She also may have a head injury. You can thank my young squire for that."

Zenix huffed as he went out the door of the guard station. 

Zoey frowned as she took a small spatula to scrape a light green paste from the mortar and onto a leaf.

"He's only trying to prove himself. You cast a large shadow over a lot for the other guards. And that boy's been watching you since before he went to the guard academy."

Garroth sighed. 

"Well if he actually looked up to me, he'd see I wasn't nearly that impulsive. Not everything can be solved by swinging a sword around."

Zoey knelt down next to the woman. She directed Garroth to move the blanket aside, allowing her to transfer the paste onto the woman's knee.

"He isn't going to learn anything by you simply telling him something. Any reckless child I've taught needs someone to model the right behavior before they are able to do so on their own."

Zoey repeated the process, transferring more paste onto scrapes along the woman's arms and legs.

"Zoey, I appreciate the advice but I don't have time to babysit every new guard on top of keeping the village together."

Zoey huffed at his comment. Garroth watched as she transferred the remaining paste onto the woman's forehead.

"Garroth do I really need to bring up the incident with the Razer Tooth Bandits, again?"

Garroth felt his face getting hot again. "Zoey-"

"Because that boy was missing for three days. Right out of the guard academy."

"I-"

"Then the lord and his family were killed. I know that hardship can be a good teacher but that does not mean that boy should be so isolated after all of that. He may only be acting like the village is at war because it feels like it has been since he took up his post."

"So what can I do? Zoey, I can only be so many places at once."

Zoey glared at him sternly.

"Step back. I'll need some room."

Garroth stood against the wall of the guard tower. Zoey breathed deeply and reached out a hand. Her finger shimmered with light green energy as she traced a symbol over the woman. The deposits of paste on her injuries instantly lit up the same color. Zoey murmured and incantation before retracting her hand. 

At that moment, Zenix returned. After noticing him, Zoey shot a glance at Garroth. He'd talk with her later.

"That should speed up the healing process. She may need an hour or so before she's fully healed. Allow her to rest."

Garroth nodded silently.

Zenix stepped over towards the cot. He scratched the back of his neck as he examined her. "Her markings...Is she a witch or...?"

Zoey sighed as she stood and walked towards the table. 

"While her tattoos may look similar, they are not. They're a symbol of the Kirayev Tribe."

Zenix arched an eyebrow. "Kirayev?"

Garroth sighed. "Right, you haven't left the village beyond Brightport. The Kirayev are traditionalists that worship Irene."

Zenix perked up. "Oh, you mean the Matron?"

"The Matron is her epithet in this part of the region, but yes. O'Khasis calls her the Judge, for example."

"Ah...so that's where the Jury comes from."

Zoey nodded. "The Kirayev have been around for centuries. They live in small towns outside of other villages. They find that the best way to worship Irene is by emulating her. They dress, speak, eat, and fight just how Irene would have in ancient times. And they wear those tattoos to emulate the ones Irene had when she walked the earth. They hope to greet the Goddess in a way that she is familiar with when she returns to Ru'aun."

Zenix sidled up beside Garroth. "Sounds kind of silly. If she were going to return, wouldn't she have already? Ru'aun's already gone to shit..."

Zoey frowned as she adjusted a strap on her bag. "Perhaps her not having returned yet is a sign that things have yet to become truly hopeless."

Zenix sighed. "Great, so shit's only going to get worse?"

Garroth placed a hand on Zenix's shoulder. "I believe what Ms. Zoey means is that...things are still fixable. That we can still make things better without the power of the Goddess."

Zenix's eyes remained fixed on the floor. 

Zoey shouldered her bag. "I have my shop to return to, if you have everything handled, Garroth?"

Garroth cleared his throat. "Yes. Thank you, Zoey."

After Zoey departed the guard station, Garroth removed his hand from Zenix's shoulder. 

Garroth cleared his throat again. "Listen up, I'm going to go check on Dale on his perimeter patrol. Keep an eye on her until I get back. Ring the bell if you need me."

Garroth pointed to the rope hanging down from the top of the tower. "She may be frightened when she wakes up. Just be gentle and slow so you don't scare her. Remember, she doesn't speak Ru'aunian so try to use body language and your hands. Do not take out a weapon."

Zenix's face softened. "I'll do my best, sir." He gave a small salute before pulling up a chair beside her cot.

Garroth smiled as he left the guard station, while also annoyed at how well Zoey's advice was working so far.

Chapter Text

The woman didn't know how much time had passed when she finally stirred. 

She was on her back, facing upwards. The pale blue sky and lush greenery she could recall had been replaced with wooden posts and cobwebs. 

She could feel a throbbing in the back of her skull. A cool sensation on her forehead was overwhelming it, however. 

She twitched her arms and legs. They were cloaked in a thin wool blanket. She pulled a hand free and pushed the blanket forward, using her other hand to prop herself upward.

Wherever she was, the walls were made of old stones. Wooden stands and shelves held up weapons, a few small and shabby swords and a cracked wooden shield.

She wondered aloud, "Where did he go? " The man with the head covering. She remembered now the man who she had encountered. The one who spoke with a different tongue. Despite that, he had tried to communicate with her. He had seemed kind. But he was now absent. How had she fallen asleep, again?

She heard clicking on the stones. Footsteps. Her head whipped towards the source. 

Out of what she assumed was the back of this place stepped a person. He definitely looked younger than the other man. His physique was much more lean. Dark eyes peaked out from under a hat that sat unevenly over his curly dark hair. His garb was much different from the other man. 

He blinked hard as he made eye contact with her. His eyes flitted to and fro quickly, his body remaining motionless. It reminded her of a cat, looking for signs of movement. Guessing how a mouse might react if it were to pounce. 

The woman didn't break eye contact as she slid her legs out from under the blanket. 

His brow furrowed as he watched. Why was he so confused? 

The woman's eyes leave him for a split second to assess the room. Not a cell. She's in some sort of bed but not restrained. There's a small table to her left. The man has a sword sheathed on his belt. There's a window in the left wall that looks outside. There's a wooden door next to it. He's the only one in the room.

Her eyes returned to him. His hands are raised to chest level. Why is he reaching for me?

The pain in her head brought new thoughts bubbling to the surface. Was I knocked out? By him? Was the other man knocked out as well?

She clutched the edge of the blanket as he loomed closer. He'd somehow gotten a few feet away without her noticing. Unfamiliar words came out of his mouth as he leaned in. 

Before he could get any closer, the woman lurched upwards, pulling the blanket up along with her. She chucked the blanket over his head, not waiting to see if he was caught. She bolted towards the door.

Before her hand could reach the knob, a hand wrapped around her wrist. She turned back to see the brown haired man again. More unfamiliar words. As she pulled against his grip, he pulled her in closer, making her footing unsteady.

Instinct took over as she wound up her other arm and balled her fist. A fast and hard punch sailed into his nose. The man let go, causing her to tumble onto the ground. She rolled onto her stomach and scrambled to her feet. 

His hand gripped her shoulder and spun her back around. 

His pupils were narrowed. He was reaching for her hands. 

She moved before he could react, kicking him in the stomach and drawing his sword from the sheath on his hip. She backed away and aimed the point at him.

He barely had time to register the pain in his stomach before his eyes met the blade. He stepped to the side but the woman followed him with the blade hovering just near his neck. 

He bolted away, stopping at a rope that hung from the ceiling. He spun around as he clung to the rope. He pulled on it and a sharp and tinny sound rang out. 

"A bell?" 

Garroth marched down the cobbled streets of the residential area, heading towards the outskirts of the village. 

"Garroth! You got a minute?" Garroth recognized the voice of Donna, one of the town's few remaining merchants.

She leaned over a pile of crates, looking at some papers and an abacus that laid across the top. She spun a slate pencil between her fingers, tucking a lock of curly brown hair out of her face. 

"Donna...I-"

"Zoey's tonics have really particular ingredients. Ones that need a sign off to even have imported..."

Garroth sighed. "Donna, we don't have a lord. There's nothing I can do for now."

Donna slammed her pencil down on the crate and propped herself up on it. "You know damn well you could just sign as the acting lord, don't cha?"

"I'd rather wait until the villagers elect a new lord."

"Garroth, most of us are too busy to organize that kinda thing. Why can't you just do it?"

"Donna, I understand your frustration. I just don't want to overstep."

She sucked in breath through her teeth then sighed heavily. 

"Without a doctor, Zoey is the only person we can rely on if someone gets sick or hurt. I just wanna make sure more people don't leave. It would only make things harder for those of us who're still here..."

Garroth sighed. "I'll take a look at it tonight, Donna. I just have to touch base with Dale on patrol."

Donna smiled, before furrowing her brow. "Is that the bell?"

Garroth turned around. Sure enough, the bell of the guard tower was echoing from across town.

"Shit! That must be Zenix. I have to go!"

Garroth jogged towards the guard station, cutting between two houses to reach it quicker.

Garroth swung open the door to the station, to find Zenix at sword point. The woman in white held a sword up, its point aimed just below Zenix's chin. The young man was backed against the wall of the guard station. 

"Zenix?"

"She stole my sword!"

"How did she steal your sword?"

The woman spun around, keeping her sword at the same height as she looked towards Garroth. Her eyes made him think of a scared dog, barking as it was backed against a wall.

Recognition washed over her face as she saw him. 

The sword clanged to the ground. "...G-Garr...oth...?" Her words were broken, but it was clear she did remember his name. At least she hadn't been too badly injured that she had lost her memory. 

She tried to run behind him, but he held out a hand to block her. 

Her face twisted in betrayal. Garroth's heart twinged as she stepped away. 

Zenix crossed the room, taking an extra sword from the rack. "She attacked me when she woke up. Then when I tried to stop her, she stole my sword."

"A defenseless woman stole your sword?"

"She punched me. And she kicked me! I'd hardly call her defenseless.

The woman looked at Garroth. She began rambling in her language. 

"...take..."

Garroth froze as she spoke. He swore he'd heard the word before. Bits of the language seemed familiar. As the woman met his eyes, it was almost like she could see the wheels turning in his head.

Zenix finally crept up behind her, using the moment of quiet as an opportunity to grab the woman. He held her wrists behind her back. She pulled against his grip as he shoved her towards Garroth. 

She yelled out again. "Gah...Garr..oth..." She rambled again, til he finally heard the word again. Take. 

Garroth smacked himself in the head. "I'm an idiot. I should have realized."

Zenix finally stabilized his grip on the woman. "I don't get it. What did you realize?"

"Zoey said she's Kirayev. The Kirayev only speak old Ru'aunian."

"You know old Ru'aunian?"

Garroth closed the door. "A little. I'm nowhere near fluent. But I recognized that word she said." Garroth repeated the word in old Ru'aunian. "Take."

The woman looked up. She spoke again, her tone questioning. The only word he could make out in the frantic speaking was understand. 

He swung his head to the side. "Uh...a little." He held up his fingers, motioning like he was holding something small. She nodded slowly.

"I may not be fully fluent...but our scholar should be."

"Scholar?" Zenix leaned down to retrieve his sword. "Damnit, you can't mean-"

"She's constantly using it. She'll be our best resource."

"Yeah and she's the biggest pain in the ass..."

Garroth frowned. "If we want to help this woman, it's our best shot."

"Help her? Have you forgotten that she tried to stab me?"

Garroth paused. "....Right. Hold on. Stay there."

Garroth reached inside a chest of supplies and removed a short length of rope. 

He crossed back to the woman. He held out the rope to tie up her hands.

Realizing what he was doing, the woman pulled against Zenix's grip. 

Garroth racked his brain for old Ru'aunian verbs. "Uhhh...help. Help you. No move. Safe."

She froze just long enough for him to tie her hands, though he tied them in front of her so she wasn't left completely immobile. 

Zenix took the rest of the length of rope. She wasn't pulling against the rope but still didn't seem enthused about the idea of the restraints.

Garroth waved Zenix after him.

"Are we really doing this?"

"What else would you have me do with her? She might just be scared. But we won't learn anything if we don't talk to her first. And we can't interrogate her if we can't understand her."

Zenix's grip tightened on the rope. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Garroth's eyes trailed downwards. He was once again thankful that the visor of his helmet obscurred his eyes. 

Without another word, he opened the door of the guard station.

Chapter Text

Garroth and Zenix made their way to the village library. It might be generous to call it a library actually. 

The library was housed in a tiny two floor house and decorated with a collection of mismatched shelves. While the place housed plenty of ledgers, town records, and maps, it didn't have much in terms of actual history books. That is except for the materials Emmalyn had brought with her.

Upon graduation from Meteli's Archaeologist Academy, most scholars received an assignment to study ruins across the region. Emmalyn was assigned to Phoenix Drop to study what scholars considered the oldest statue of Irene, along with some surrounding ruins. Emmalyn had since set up shop in the library, converting the empty loft area into her living quarters and adding her books from her personal collection to the shelves. Most villagers didn't protest because they never used the library. 

Garroth hopped up the stairs, reaching up to knock on the door.

After a moment of silence, he and Zenix heard rumbling around within the house. The door of the library then opened. 

Emmalyn's blond hair had been tied back in a bun, though loose strands hung in her face and a pen stuck out of it like an antenna. She adjusted a pair of thick framed glasses. 

"Oh! Garroth. Uh...Molly started it." The door began to creak closed once again as she backed away.

"What are you talking about?"

Emmalyn blinked. "Don't worry about it"

Garroth shook his head. "I'll come back to...that. We need your help with something."

Emmalyn backed away, allowing Garroth and Zenix to enter the library. "I don't know Garroth, I was right in the middle of translating some new texts." She flitted about a table and stacked books together.

"Actually, that's the thing. We needed some help with translating something. Actually, someone." Garroth stepped aside to let Emmalyn see the woman. 

She spun around, locking eyes on the woman. She quickly walked over. Leaning forward and squinting, Emmalyn circled her the best she could. She hiked up her skirt as she stepped over the slack part of the rope that Zenix still held. 

"Kirayev," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "Great. You know, Irene likely grew up in nobility. If they actually wanted to live more like her they wouldn't be so pastoral and isolated from the rest of the region."

"Emmalyn...focus, please." Garroth sighed. "I didn't come here for a history lesson. And I doubt she'd like to hear you questioning her whole culture."

"Heh, she can't hear anything. Most Kirayev don't speak modern Ru'aunian."

"Which is precisely why we came here. I can speak some old Ru'aunian but I'm hardly fluent. I was hoping to ask her some questions."

Emmalyn crossed her arms, resting a knuckle on her chin and furrowing her brow. "I don't know...Do you think you can keep those brats from playing in the extremely fragile ruins I'm writing about?"

"Emmalyn..."

"It's not like I'm paid to be a translator, Garroth. If you want my help, you gotta pay for it somehow."

Garroth sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Fine."

Emmalyn smiled and reached for one of her texts, a small dictionary with bits of paper sticking out with small notes inside it. "Whaddya need to ask, Captain?"

"What's her name? Where did she come from? Um...Why was she outside of the woods?"

"Alright, alright. Give me a minute." She flipped through the pages of the book, muttering to herself as she stepped back towards the woman. "What is your name?"

The woman, who had been looking at the floor looked up at hearing Emmalyn. "Huh?"

Emmalyn swiftly shut the dictionary before repeating her question. 

The woman responded with something Garroth couldn't make out.

"What? Uh...What?"

The woman continued. 

"What is it? What is she saying?"

"I don't know?"

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"No-I mean. She doesn't know."

"She what?"

"Hold on, lemme try something else." Emmalyn reopened the dictionary. "Where did you come from?"

She tugged against her restraints as she continued to speak. 

Emmalyn groaned in frustration. "No-I mean...Where were you before that?"

The woman's eyes were unfocused and she furrowed her brow in concentration. She spoke again.

"What is it? What did she say?" Garroth leaned over to look at the dictionary. 

Emmalyn elbowed him in the side. "She doesn't know! I don't know what to tell you."

"So what, she's an amnesiac? What do we do about that?"

"Again, that's for you to figure out. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my work."

"No-Wait, I still need help with communicating with her."

"I asked your questions. That's what you wanted. Not a translator! If you want that, you're gonna need to do a lot more than babysitting ruins."

"Wait! I could...Um..."

Emmalyn put the dictionary back on her table and picked up a broom that rested against a wall. 

"Figure that out on your own. For now, I have work to do." She spun the broom to swat at Zenix and Garroth.

The two guards reluctantly stepped out of the door to the library, Zenix pulling the woman after him. As soon as the group was out the door, Emmalyn slammed it shut.

Garroth groaned in frustration. "Well. We have no idea why she's here. Or even what to call her. We have nothing."

Zenix cleared his throat. "Garroth, let's just bring her back to the guard station for now. Figure out what to do when we finish our rounds, alright?"

Garroth inhaled then exhaled slowly. "Right, right. Maybe then I can think of some way to bribe Emmalyn into being a translator..."

The two started back towards the guard station. The woman trailed behind Zenix, and Garroth headed up the rear.

"I apologize..."

Garroth almost didn't register the woman speaking. He looked over to see her stepping along behind Zenix. She wrung her hands together, her eyes focused on the ground.

Garroth cleared his throat as he moved up next to her. "What did you say?"

"I cannot remember anything. I do not know everything you say, but...you and the other people seem mad. I apologize for not remembering more..."

Garroth closed his mouth, grimacing. "No-I...I should be apologizing. It must be...scary. You have no one to turn to."

The woman stared at the ground as they continued walking. "Garroth..."

"Hmm?"

"I do not want to be unknown."

"I-Uh...You aren't. I mean..."

"You are Garroth, I think. I may not remember who I am but I am someone. I just do not know who yet."

Garroth's eyes wandered. He had never given names much thought. He looked her over again, her dark hair and lean form. Her swirling tattoos.

The more he looked at them, the more they reminded him of curling vines in a garden. His eyes finally landed on a tattoo across the top of her sternum. The outline of an almond type shape with similar shapes framing it. More swirling lines spread out symmetrically from it, curling towards her shoulders and assumedly below her tunic. The shape on her chest was like a flower spreading over her body.

"Iris."

She blinked. "Huh?"

He stuttered as he realized he had said that out loud. "I mean-Uh...Your markings...They look like a flower. Iris. My mother used to have them...in her garden. The shape on your chest looks like them."

She looked down at her sternum, perhaps only just realizing that she had such a marking. She blushed as she stared at it.

Shit. That probably sounds weird. Not to mention creepy to be looking at her like that. Garroth turned back outward, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Ummm...You do not have to use that. I was...Uh...I was just thinking about it."

"Iris..." The name danced across her tongue. "I like it."

"Uhhh...You do?" Garroth could feel his face grow warmer.

She nodded. "It will work until I remember my real name. Iris." She smiled as she repeated it again.

Garroth couldn't help but smile with her. "Of course. We will find out where you came from. And your true name. I promise."

"Thank you, Garroth."

"Your welcome, Miss Iris."

"Ugh...what is she saying to you?"

Garroth had almost forgot that Zenix was with them. He tugged hard against Iris' restraints.

The tug seemed to bring her back to reality. She scowled at him, though he couldn't see her face from behind him. 

"I'm sorry. Just was trying to smooth things over with..."

Zenix stopped in his tracks. The sound caused Garroth to trail off as well. 

"Garroth, did you ever meet up with Dale?"

Garroth's blood ran cold as the ringing bells of the entrance of the town resonated throughout the village. No. He hadn't. 

Chapter Text

Garroth’s breathing quickened as he unsheathed his sword and reached for his shield. A pit formed in his stomach as he realized he didn’t have it. He started to jog in the direction of the village entrance. 

A voice rang in his ear. “Garroth? Garroth, wait!” 

As he turned back, he saw Zenix was scrambling behind him. Having to trail Iris behind him was slowing him down.

Garroth paused, realizing he was panicking. Right, I need to stop. Need to actually make a plan.

Iris’ eyes were washed in confusion but she seemed to gather the danger of the situation. 

“Zenix, take her back to the guard station. Grab my shield and join me when you can.”

Zenix’ eyes flickered with concern before hardening. He nodded solemnly before turning back to Iris. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder and turned towards the guard station. 

Iris pulled against him. Zenix grunted in frustration.

Garroth cleared his throat. “ Please…Go with him. I promise you will be safe. ” 

Iris’ panic washed away. She followed Zenix as he lead her away.

Garroth stopped one last time. “And Zenix, take off the restraints. She isn’t going to run.”

“She isn’t? She said that?”

Garroth swallowed. “Yes. Now go!”

Zenix furrowed his brow as he pulled Iris away. 

Garroth spun back around to the direction of the village’s entrance. His jog quickly turned into a sprint. He vaulted over a stack of crates in an alley between two buildings. The bells’ tolls, which had once been frantic, disappeared as he got closer.

His boots pounded on the walkway. He dashed up a set of stairs leading up to the blacksmith’s home. Jumping over the railing let him climb onto the roof of Donna’s home. He scrambled over the clay shingles and jumped down to a stack of crates on the other side of the house. 

As he finally got to the entrance of the village he hung back behind a wall. Behind a section of an old stone wall, he could see Dale. The older guard was pressing a hand to a wound in his side. 

Where is the attacker, then?

In a split second, Garroth heard a whistling. He stumbled as he ducked out of the way, losing his balance and slamming into the ground. A trio of arrows with rust red fletchings embedded themselves in the wall he had just been taking cover behind. 

He barely had time to dodge as a blade came down toward him from around the corner. He scrambled to his feet and pointed his sword towards his foe.

A man with dark hair and steel gray eyes stared him down. With the sun behind him, they seemed hollow except for something that sent a chill down Garroth’s spine. Bloodlust. 

He wielded a large broadsword. The dark blade glimmered red with blood. He dragged it next to him as he stalked toward Garroth. His chest was puffed and despite him wearing a cloth mask over his mouth, Garroth knew he was smiling. This sort of glee and arrogance only showed its face in the most violent killers. 

“Looks like your gatekeeper’s sleeping on the job. Not a great look for you. Not that I’d expect better from a hovel like Phoenix Drop.” The man spun his sword, striking the pavement with each rotation and causing a screeching sound to resound through the street.

Garroth backed up as he tried to search for motivation. They couldn’t be bandits. Bandits would typically try to avoid confronting guards and instead focus on using civilians as hostages.

The man dashed forward, interrupting Garroth’s concentration. Garroth did his best to parry his opponent's thrust. He responded by spinning back around to hit Garroth where he was open. Garroth winced as the blade hit him on the back of his left shoulder. 

Garroth stumbled forward and spun back around to block. His attacker chuckled as he surged forward and swung his sword to meet Garroth’s. As he pushed Garroth back forward he threw another strike. 

Garroth could feel the strain it was putting on him. The short sword he carried wasn’t sturdy enough to block blows, especially not from a bigger blade. Without a shield Garroth knew he’d just be stuck in a waiting game as the man chipped away at his stamina or his blade. 

Then there was the archer. They hadn’t shot at him again but that could be because they were worried about hitting their ally in the process. Garroth couldn’t afford to let him have that opportunity. 

Garroth did his best to form a plan as he held his defense.

He had to buy time for Zenix to bring his shield if he wanted to stand a chance in this fight. Being in the open was only prolonging an inevitable shot by an unseen archer. And he needed to keep him from targeting civilians. 

Leading him into the village would only endanger the villagers. But the forest could be hiding more reinforcements. Wouldn’t they have already entered the village then?

The man cocked an eyebrow as Garroth parried another blow. Garroth took the opportunity to spin and strike him in the shoulder. The attacker grunted in anger and retaliated by elbowing Garroth in the sternum.

A sharp inhale escaped Garroth’s mouth as he stumbled back and onto the ground and dropped his sword. The man cracked his neck and swung back his shoulder.

“Just had to make this difficult, huh?” He effortlessly lifted his broadsword and jabbed it into his thigh. A scream broke through Garroth’s gritted teeth. 

The man leaned down towards Garroth. His hand came down hard on Garroth’s helmet. 

“I wonder…if I crushed your head inside this bucket, would your eyes pop out that stupid visor?” Garroth could feel his fingers pressed against the thin steel of his helmet as he pulled him upwards. .

Garroth turned away, before hearing an arrow whiz towards them. One impaled his attacker right through his bicep. Another missed his face but tore away his cloth mask, leaving it pinned to a nearby wall with another arrow. 

The man let go of Garroth and his blade, his teeth gritted in anger. Garroth balanced against a wall as the man cursed and reached to take the arrow out of his arm. 

He felt the pain in his leg resurge and looked down to assess it. Before his eyes, he watched as the man’s blade faded into ashes. His thigh was oozing blood without the blade inside. 

Garroth leaned down to grab his sword and used what strength he still had to take off towards the entrance of the village. With how faulty this archer’s aim was, he wasn’t likely to hit him. 

Garroth hobbled as quickly as he could into the cover of the woods, praying he could buy more time as the attacker finally gave chase.

Iris and the other man had finally arrived at the building she had awoken in. He was muttering to himself, though without Garroth to translate she doubted she’d be able to find out what he was saying. 

Her wrists were feeling raw from the way the restraints were rubbing against her skin. The tolling bells weren't helping with her sense of unease. He closed the door behind them and made his way towards the door to a small room.

He stepped aside and turned back to her. Unfamiliar words came from his mouth as he waved inside the room. 

Iris glanced inside. The room was in a similar style to the rest of the building, but decorated sparsely. A small bucket and a wooden cot were propped against the stone walls. The wall near the door had a window but metal bars blocked any exit. 

“ That’s a prison cell. ”

The man scowled. He wasn’t going to understand her, so he just repeated the same motions.

“ I thought we were on the same page. Why are you still holding me prisoner…? ” She was only thinking out loud, but the man reached out and took her by the shoulders and pulled her inside the cell. 

Once she was inside he shut the door behind him. Iris growled in frustration. She reached for the door and jostled the knob, managing to get it open. She peeked her head out to see the man searching around a desk in the corner. 

As he turned back to see her, he furrowed his brow. He said one word but held a hand out for her to stop. Stay . Iris blew a piece of hair from her face in irritation. 

Bang . Iris heard a noise from the door to the building. She shrank back inside the cell, only able to see the desk from here. The man’s eyes widened in fear. His hand went to the sword at his belt.

Bang . Iris stepped to look through the window of the cell. The wood of the building’s front door groaned as it slowly careened towards the floor. Behind it was the person who had kicked it down.

From what Iris could tell, she was a woman. Wavy white hair was slicked back into a ponytail with bangs framing a set of violet eyes. A sleeveless black tunic and gray pants were paired with black spiky shoulder pads and arm coverings that reached just above her elbows. Black boots stepped over the remains of the door and she pulled up on a black scarf covering her mouth. 

The other man stared at her like a cornered animal being stalked by a hunter. The words Iris could hear were frantic from his end. Despite the danger he still hadn’t unsheathed his sword.

The woman cocked her head to the side as she strode closer to him. She spoke in a sickly sweet tone, though Iris could still sense the venom of her words. He backed up until he was trapped against the wall of the building.

Her gloved fingers looked almost like talons as her hand wrapped around his jaw. As she spoke he shook his head, his words fearful as her claws wrapped tighter.

She cocked her head to the side. Iris was sure she had to be smiling. 

The woman pulled him from the wall and threw him to his knees. He coughed as she bent down to grab him by the scruff of his neck. 

His strained breathing made his next words squeak out, though the woman cut him off as she pulled him to his feet and started walking towards Iris’ cell.

Iris ducked down, now only able to hear them talking. They didn’t approach her cell, but instead another one to her right. 

Iris heard stumbling footsteps as the woman swung the door shut. After a short jingling sound, Iris heard clicking in the door to the other cell. Did she lock him up?

The woman’s boot grinded against the stone and Iris could hear her footsteps getting distant. She heard him speak up again, likely through the bars of his own window. The footsteps paused. Then they started getting closer again.

Iris held her breath and pressed against the wall, shuffling towards the door. Maybe she wouldn’t see her if she wasn’t near the window.

The door screeched open as Iris came face to face with the woman with white hair. As she met her eyes, the woman wiggled her fingers in a wave.

Iris instinctively dove to the side as the woman lunged towards her. She stumbled and rolled into the wall as Iris struggled onto her feet. The woman propped herself up on one leg and held her hands out to her side. Iris watched as a pair of dark gray sickles appeared in her hands with a flurry of cinders.

She scrambled out of the cell and swung the door shut. She put her back to the door as the woman tried to push against it. A loud thud resounded as Iris kept it closed, though she could feel her feet slipping. 

She turned to support it with her shoulder, just in time for a sickle to smash through where her neck had been. Her eyes scanned the room and found a small silver sword laying in the racks near the front door, as well as a small metal shield that was closer to a table in the middle of the room.

Iris waited until the woman pulled her blade from the door, likely winding up to rush the door again. In that second, she bolted toward the shield. Just as she spun around the woman crashed through the cell’s door. 

The other man was pressed against the window of his cell, reaching out his hand and pointing towards Iris. The woman’s eyes narrowed as she lunged at Iris. 

Iris raised the shield as the curved blade hooked onto the top. She used both arms to support her shield and ran towards her, bashing the shield and sickle into her attacker. She screamed in frustration and pain.

Iris looked at her again. The attacker now sported a small line of dark red over her forehead. She sidestepped as the woman swung her other sickle towards her arm, turning to run for a sword.

The woman growled as she spun her sickle in her hand. As she wound her hand back the sickle dissolved into ashes and reformed as a throwing knife that she threw towards Iris.

Iris ducked just in time for the knife to miss her head and slice through a stray lock of hair. She finally managed to take the sword from the stand just in time to bat aside another knife flying at her face.

She got to her feet and held out her hand, a scimitar materializing as she moved forward. She swung her sword toward Iris, who brought up the shield again. The blade screeched as it bounced off.

Iris tried to step to the side, but the other woman stepped over to block her. Her head raced with thoughts. This woman wasn’t backing down and Iris didn’t want to risk the other man getting hurt. 

Iris used the shield to smack the scimitar away then swung her sword over to keep the blade down and away from herself. The woman was off balance, allowing for Iris to push her back quickly. The closed distance gave her time to grab the woman’s weapon with her shield hand, burning heat causing her to throw it away seconds later.

When they finally met the wall, Iris pushed against her with her shield and put her blade to the woman’s neck. As Iris finally met her gaze, she could see the fury in them. Red irises glared back at her as the woman struggled against Iris’ hold. 

Iris couldn’t understand what she said next, but the venom in her words was easy to feel. 

“ I’m sorry about this, ” Iris took her sword and drove it into the woman’s right shoulder. The woman screamed in pain, clawing at the sword in vain. Iris had done her best to make sure the blade wouldn’t move, leaving it embedded between the stones that made the walls. 

Iris barely had time to react before the woman summoned a dagger, lunging with it as far as she could with the sword in her shoulder. Iris stumbled back. She had been too caught up in her relief that she’d almost forgotten what her adversary was capable of. 

She raced to grab another sword from the rack.

I need to find Garroth.

Iris wasn’t sure how to navigate the town outside this building, but what she did know was that she had to find him. This happening just after he had rushed off was eating at the back of her mind. She remembered the panic in his voice. Nothing about this was good. 

The other man would have to wait with the woman pinned to the wall. At the very least she wouldn’t be able to hurt him from there. 

Iris took off running out the remains of the broken door.

Chapter Text

Iris felt hopelessly lost as she wandered through the streets of the town. The bells she had heard before had gone silent.

She tried to slow her breathing. She’d come from outside this place, from a forest. Looking towards the horizon she saw open sky and water in one direction and trees in the other. No boats were on the water so whatever was going on had to be coming from the other direction.

Iris ran towards the trees, stopping to look around as she examined the treeline. She couldn’t see anyone and it extended for miles to both the left and right. Panic began to set in. It could take too long to find Garroth if she picked the wrong direction. 

In the midst of her stewing, a sharp whistle rang out from the foliage. Iris swiveled around until she found the source. Peeking out from a tree branch above was a pair of green eyes and a face hidden by a mask. 

“You again.” 

They didn’t answer. Their head flitted to the side then back to Iris. A gloved hand extended toward the left half of the forest. 

“Is Garroth there? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

They didn’t answer, simply cocking their head in the same direction they were pointing.

Iris started off in the left direction. She paused one last time. 

She turned back to the tree one last time. “Shouldn’t you help me?” 

The figure was gone. She sighed in annoyance and turned back. Garroth needed her.

Thankfully, the grass on the forest floor was muffling some of the sound that Garroth made as he limped along. His quick breathing was another story. Every step he took as he ducked between trees sent a surge of pain up his leg and forced him to bite his cheek to keep himself from screaming in pain. 

Garroth had been right that the archer wouldn’t shoot at him. Not a single shot had been fired near him. Luckily, he was also right about the lack of reinforcements. 

Garroth looked behind him but didn’t see the man with black hair. He ducked behind a tree and rested against it. 

He looked at his thigh to assess the wound. Without his full weight on the leg, the pain subsided a little. He touched a finger to it but sucked in his breath as he retracted it. He shuddered at the thought of having to walk on it again. 

Garroth heard a rustling in the distance back where he had come from. He pressed back against the tree, trying to quiet his breathing as much as possible. His heart hammered in his chest. 

Crack. Garroth heard the noise from a closer distance now. It was followed by more cracking noises, building over time. 

He dared to look out from behind the tree, only to see a tree toppling to the ground. He shivered as he saw the man with black hair. He swung his broadsword to the side, slicing through the trunk of a tree in one strike. The tree careened downwards before crashing to the forest floor. 

“You can’t hide forever…” the man called out in a sing-songy voice. “That bum leg of yours isn’t gonna get you far.”

Garroth knew he was right. He’d never be able to run like this. Not fast enough to outrun him at least. He swiveled back behind the tree. 

Maybe if he moved quietly enough he could sneak around him. Maybe he needed a distraction. No, I’m delaying the inevitable. I need some way to take him out but all my best guards aren’t here. He prayed for Zenix to show up.

“Garroth?” The voice cut through the woods like a bird song. It wasn’t Zenix. “Garroth!”

Garroth noticed Iris not long after the man did. Her eyes filled with panic as he stalked toward her. The shortsword she held was much lighter than her attacker’s broadsword. 

The broadsword strike hit a small shield Iris carried but knocked it out of her hands. The man had overextended with his swing, giving her a split second to swing back at him. As her blade stuck in the side of his neck he yelled in pain. 

Iris tried to pull the sword off but the man reached up to hold onto the blade. The wound she had made glowed red hot, causing the trail of blood oozing out to boil in seconds. By the time he turned to face her, his wound was cauterized. The end of Iris’ sword was being held in a death grip.

“Afraid that won’t work, sweetheart. Can’t kill what’s already dead.”

Garroth felt his feet moving as if on their own. He ignored the pain in his thigh and ran forward, driving his sword through the attacker’s back.

Garroth tore the blade free, kicking him away from himself and Iris. The sword tore from his back and out of his side. The man stumbled backwards, gripping his wound and cursing up a storm. 

He raised his broadsword, the blade glowing red hot and extending into a greatsword.

Garroth pushed Iris aside, ducking to grab the shield she had dropped.

Just as the blade came down, Garroth raised it above his head. 

Iris raced from behind him, faster than Garroth could react. A flash of silver was all he saw before her blade was pierced through the man’s sternum. 

Garroth kicked him back. He stumbled backward, disappearing into the brush.

The pain of the running, stabbing, and kicking the man finally caught up to Garroth, making him stagger backward. His thigh was going numb.

“Garroth!” Iris moved back to help him. Her hands hovered over him as he staggered before locating his wound. She helped him rest against a tree. Garroth could hear her muttering something too quickly to understand as she lowered herself to her knees. 

“Iris, please. Find a blond elf. She can use healing magic. There is another man injured.”

Iris looked back at him and shook her head. “You have lost so much blood. You may not last long enough for me to get help.”

She wasn’t too far off. He couldn’t get up at all with how much his head was spinning. Not that she needed to know that. 

“I will be alright. I will try to stop the bleeding.” 

“Please, do not lie to me.” 

Garroth could see tears forming in her eyes. Why did he hate lying to her? They had just met and he was going to die assuring the safety of Phoenix Drop. Garroth’s eyes were getting heavy.

“Please,” she weeped. “You cannot die. I do not want to be alone.” 

Garroth felt warmth rush over him. Not hot like the molten blade. It was comforting, like resting under a wool blanket, curled up against his mother’s chest before he was laid to sleep on a winter night in O’Khasis. 

He opened his eyes, to see Iris’ hand resting on his thigh. He felt himself revitalized as he watched golden light pulsating over his wound and around her hand. Her tattoos, once black as ink, now glowed with white light. She muttered some unfamiliar spell, her eyes glowing the same color as her tattoos.

Garroth looked back at his wound to find it completely healed. 

“Iris, how? How did you–?” 

Before he could finish, the light dimmed. Iris swayed and tumbled into his lap.

Panic surged as he turned her over to face upward. He shook her by the shoulders.

“Iris? Iris!”

She was unresponsive. He cradled her and placed his head to her chest. She was still breathing and her heart was still beating.

“Garroth!” A voice echoed through the woods. 

Garroth moved his other hand toward Iris’ legs and lifted her up in a bridal carry. He rolled her head up against his shoulder, moving toward the voice.

It was Teony, Phoenix Drop’s only other guard aside from Zenix, Dale and himself. Her curly dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and her armor was far more sloppily strapped on. Teony had likely still been in bed, considering she had been on the graveyard shift the previous night. Dark circles were visible beneath her lopsided cap. 

Relief washed over Teony’s face as she ran to help him. Garroth held Iris closer.

“Garroth, your leg.”

“I’m fine. Where’s Dale?”

“I found him at the gate. Zoey is tending to him as we speak.”

Garroth sighed with relief. “I am terribly sorry you had to deal with all of this on such little sleep.”

Teony shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep anyway. Who’s the girl?”

Garroth shook his head. “A long story. Hopefully she’s alright.”

Zenix felt like his heart was burning a hole in his chest as he tried not to make eye contact with the woman stuck to the wall of the guard station’s interior.

Her screams were closer to the howl of an animal. She had clawed at the sword and pulled forward at it in vain. Zenix had to hand it to Iris. She had left the white-haired woman completely unable to move.

“Damn…I really liked this shirt”

At first she went limp, the sword being the only thing keeping her upright. Her left hand then went up to the hilt of the blade. She forced it to wobble upwards, a strained gasp escaping her lips as the blade slowly tore through flesh and clothing.

She pressed down on the top of her shoulder with her right hand, growling in pain as she pushed down on herself while pulling the blade upward. 

With a final scream of anger, the woman finally tore herself loose from the blade. She gritted her teeth and tried to slow her breathing. The bits of broken bone and torn muscle burned red hot and her right arm hung much lower than it should have.

Zenix watched as the bones mended themselves and her arm snapped back into place, only causing her to growl in annoyance. The torn fabric wouldn’t mend itself but her muscle and skin were quickly cauterizing and knitting themselves back together. 

Her fiery gaze was now turned towards Zenix. He barely had time to react before she rushed towards the cell, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up to the bars.

“What the hell was that?” She hissed. “Did you really think you could betray us like that?”

“N-No! Please! I had no idea she would be here?” Zenix panicked as his face pressed against the metal of the bars. “Sasha, please! I told you we weren’t alone!”

Sasha reached a hand inside, her fingernails scraping up against Zenix’s face. He could feel his flesh burn hot as she broke skin.

“And yet she managed to escape.”

“She can’t speak a language anyone here would recognize. Garroth’s probably already been taken care of by Gene.”

Sasha glared at him through the bars. Their conversation was interrupted by a quiet and tinny voice.

“Sasha, report! Now!”

Sasha threw Zenix backwards, ripping a red amulet out of her pocket. Communication amulets they all carried.

“Gene?”

“Abort the mission. I’m outnumbered. And he’s here.” 

Sasha growled in frustration.

 “What about the boy? Has he finished his mission?” Zenix hadn’t known Gene long but he could hear the threatening look in his eyes from miles away.

Sasha scoffed. “Leave him for the traitor, for all I care. He blew his cover.”

Zenix rushed towards the bars. “Wait! I told you. She can’t speak modern Ru’aunian. I doubt she even knew what we were talking about.”

Sasha turned back towards him. A molten dagger formed in her hand. “And how do I know you aren’t lying?” She pressed the tip against his chin.

“I’m not, Sasha. Please, give me one more chance.”

“You’re not going soft?” Sasha’s words came out as a mocking pout.

“I’m just as pissed as you. I had a perfect chance to take out Garroth before she showed up.”

Sasha smirked, tracing the dagger towards his chest. “Good. Don’t forget how they treated you. Like a child incapable of looking after himself. Even after all you went through. Don’t forget how we saw your true potential. How strong you can truly fight.”

Zenix nodded. “This was a one-time mistake. I won’t fail you again.”

“Good boy.” Sasha waved her hand, the blade dissolving into ashes that drifted down to the floor. 

Sasha traipsed toward the broken down door. “Keep your communication amulet with you next time. If you encounter any more obstacles, report them.”

Gene’s voice rang out over the amulet. “We won’t strike again until the traitor is dealt with. Keep your head low until then. Wouldn’t want him blowing your cover.”

“Understood, Sir.”