She took everything with weak hands and an even heavier heart.
“Take the back exit out of the village. And don’t look back.” Dorian guided her to the rear of the house, where the door was located. He held it open and looked at her one more time.
Would this be the last time they ever saw each other? Was this the end?
Dorian grabbed her by the shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Cora, you’re a smart girl. Everything will be alright.”
“I’m so sorry…” She couldn’t finish the words because the remorse killed her. “I’m sorry for putting you in this position.”
He didn’t give in to the sadness, nor did he show any fear. “Sweetheart.”
Cora’s eyes watered slightly at the affectionate name. He hardly ever called her that, maybe three times in the span of her entire life.
“You know me. I always take care of the people I love. Right now, you just need to worry about yourself. Do you understand me?”
She nodded.
“Cora.” He stared at her hard, forcing her to speak. He taught her long ago that simple nods and shrugs weren’t real answers. Only the spoken word meant something.
“I do.”
He kissed her forehead, the scruff from his jaw rubbing against her skin, and then pulled away slowly. “Until we meet again.” Affection was in his eyes, a fatherly love.
Cora didn’t give in to the emotion because it would break her. She’d never had to say goodbye before, and now she realized just how hard it was. “Until we meet again.”
The village of Vax was located in a brush valley. The soil was perfect for farming, and the distant mountains acted as the perfect scenery. Just a league away from the village was a stream that supplied clean water in the summer and winter. It was peaceful, hidden away from the rest of Anastille. It was all Cora had ever known, with the exception of visiting nearby villages for metal ores. But those were several days away by the crow’s flight, so she only traveled once in a great while.
She hiked away from the trail and headed to the crags near the river. It was important to stay hidden from unfriendly eyes, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the Shamans realized she’d left Vax. They would search for her endlessly, and when they found her, they would slaughter her with some terrible magic.
She ended the thought and kept going.
Dorian and his family were left behind, and she hoped no ill would come to them because of her foolishness. When she’d stabbed the Shaman, she’d aimed to kill. When her blade felt nothing but smoothness, that was when she panicked. They definitely weren’t human.
They were something else entirely.
Now, she had a bounty on her head. A part of her considered surrendering just to end the situation. If she had to do it to save Dorian and the others, she wouldn’t hesitate.
She’d slit her own throat.
How much did she expect to accomplish out there past the grapevine? Would she really be able to evade them? How long would she stay out there? What if Dorian never came? What if—
Come to me.
Cora tumbled to the ground as her skull felt as if it had caved in. Agony washed over her entire body. It was as if hot coals had been dumped on her head, and no matter how she moved, she couldn’t escape the burn. An invisible rope had wound around her neck and controlled her effortlessly. The words had no physical form, but they overpowered her. She gripped her skull as she lay on the grass, unable to think or stand.
Come to me.
Just as before, it ripped her skull in two. The voice echoed endlessly in her brain, causing an aftershock of static. The sound wasn’t audible, but it was so strong it practically made her deaf.
Then an image came into her mind, a picture of the dead white tree near the ancient boulders. Everyone in Vax knew about the tree because of its history. It was the only tree in the entire world that thrived in the winter and went dead in the summer and spring. And the fruit it yielded was the sweetest.
Shit, I’m coming.
She thought the words to herself, unsure if she could communicate with the voice in the same way.
Hurry.
If you shut the hell up, I can.
The voice finally fell silent.
After the pressure left her brain, she slowly rose to her feet and wiped away the blades of grass. A ladybug was on her shoe, and she gently flicked it off. As soon as the voice was gone, she felt better. It was like nothing had happened at all. Fortunately, she was in a field of flowers. If she’d been near a cliffside, she probably would have tipped over and fallen to her death.
Cora hiked through the field and headed to the winter tree. She was obeying a voice without knowing to whom it belonged, but she didn’t see any alternative. If it had the power to communicate with her like that, it probably had other powers.
Was it the Shamans?
She stopped dead in her tracks at the thought.
She pulled out her bow and fit an arrow to the string. It probably wouldn’t pierce their soft flesh, but it might be enough to take out another eye. If they found her this quickly, then she had no chance of escape to begin with. They may bring her to death, but she could do everything possible to take them with her.
Her bow was aimed the entire way, prepared for whatever fight she was about to face. Distantly, she felt comforted by the possibility of the Shamans.
If they were there, then they weren’t torturing Dorian.
She made it over the slight rise then approached the white tree from behind a boulder. She pulled an extra arrow onto the string for added impact. It wasn’t smart to waste an arrow that way, but she suspected she wouldn’t need the rest anyway.
Cora grounded herself and took a few breaths before she stood upright and pointed her bow to kill. Her fingers held on to the arrow and the string, feeling the tension shoot completely up her arm. Her shoulder no longer ached from the strain like it did when she’d first trained with the bow.
She searched for the hooded Shamans, the fiends that didn’t seem to originate from this world. The black leather that covered their bodies gave them the definition of humans, the same biceps in the arms and the same muscles in the legs. But she knew there was something completely different under the apparel.
Cora scanned the clearing, her eyes glancing over the winter tree, and landed on something she hadn’t been expecting whatsoever. Instead of seeing the Shamans, she saw something much more terrifying.
Blood-red scales shone under the afternoon sun. When they caught the light in just the right way, they mimicked fire. The colors changed from deep red to light yellow, making a fresco that was constantly changing.
Each piece was textured like glass, reflecting everything that came near the armored skin. Gentle cracks connected each one together, like riverbeds on the world map.
With every slight movement, the muscles underneath the scales became more prominent. The behemoth of strength was unmistakable. The sheer size of the creature dwarfed everything in its vicinity.
Claws that were inches long dug into the earth. Each spike was gracefully curved to an extremely tapered point. It was sharp enough to slice Cora in half with a single swipe.
Cora’s eyes drifted up the curved back of the creature, taking in every image of something so deadly but also beautiful. Her eyes settled on the folded wings, thin in material but strong enough to lift its heavy weight. And that was when she noticed the red blood oozing from the wound.