Huskar prowled up and down in front of the enemy lines, far enough away to be out of danger. Which meant too far away to hit anyone. He was strong but even he couldn't go in there alone. An ally joined him and stared at the attacking enemy. He was obviously as reluctant to charge into the fray as Huskar was.

The clash of weapons against armour and against the walls of the buildings was loud, the enemy lines a mass of movement and colours.

There was the tiniest shift in the air announcing the arrival of the Phantom Assassin. Before the Sacred Warrior could turn around a pair of daggers flew past him, followed by a blur of dark that rushed towards the centre of the battle. She was fast and before he could process what was happening, half of the enemy creatures were dead, some were stunned and some were already fleeing. Only one actually tried to counter the attack.

Huskar stared with wide eyes, frozen into place by disbelief. She was alone, against all of them, and the fight was over within seconds. With her being the winner! She wasn't even wounded and she began to chase after the ones that had fled.

She was magnificent, her style of fighting was amazing, her movements precise, every strike hit its mark and all the while she was still able to evade the incoming attacks.

Never had he seen anything like that, not even close. She didn't need him, she didn't need anyone, she was competent and strong and fast. And beautiful in her deadly focus.

Huskar had always preferred strong women, but this was exceptional. No creature he knew was remotely like the Assassin.

There was no way the Sacred Warrior could ever win any fair fight against her. And since she, as an Assassin, was probably the master of unfair fighting, he wouldn't win one of those, either. He had debated if he should continue his search for why the Veiled Sisters didn't have soulmates and let it come to a fight between him and the Phantom Assassin. But seeing this he wouldn't stand a chance.

It would be the stupidest thing he'd ever done and he'd probably be dead before he ever realized what was happening. If she truly was his soulmate, he had to get to her without going against her threat. Because she had said she'd kill him and he was absolutely sure she'd stay true to her words. She'd kill her soulmate. Maybe she'd hesitate, but hesitation from her would change nothing about the outcome. He'd be dead just the same.

Winning the war didn't take them long after this fight. Before it had been a struggle but the moment the Phantom Assassin had truly joined the fighting, it was all over. Huskar almost felt inferior, unimportant. He wondered if they could all just leave and let her do the work alone. Maybe she'd be able to, without them. But then he simply stood back a bit and watched her.

The twinge he had felt in his gut when he had realized how much more skilled the Phantom Assassin was vanished when he saw her going through the enemy lines as if it was nothing. As if it was the easiest thing in the world. He was in awe.

"You were not much help." The Phantom Assassin appeared by his side as Huskar was standing next to the destroyed buildings of the enemy town. It was over, they had razed everything to the ground.

"You didn't need my help." The war had gotten him nothing, Huskar thought. He had hoped he could form a bond with the Assassin, could get to know her or something. But it wasn't the case. She stood by his side the same way she had at the beginning: with too much space between them and without acknowledging his existence. She had talked to him but she hadn't looked at him. It was the same way she treated everyone around her. With absolute indifference.

Huskar wouldn't give up that easily, he'd simply ask her on another town war. But he wasn't sure it would lead to anything. The Phantom Assassin was perfect in her occupation. To think, even for a moment, she'd give up on her sisters and whatever was part of her being an Assassin for a soulmate was more than stupid. They erased their soulmate marks for a reason, probably willingly. To think he could make her see him and have him as her soulmate despite it all? Stupid.

Nonetheless he felt the pull towards her. He wanted to be near her, with her, wanted to get to know her. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to resist this pull. But if he didn't and she remained this aloof, it might destroy him. With her as his soulmate, he'd fall in love with her sooner or later. To be this close to her and at the same time this far away would be hell. It was mildly uncomfortable already and they had barely spent time together. He didn't know yet if they were truly soulmates.

It would be better to walk away now, to leave and never look back. He'd be without a soulmate but he wouldn't be condemned to a hell where he was near but not near enough.

Either he was a masochist or it was already too late. When they appeared on the platform from which they had started, he grinned at her. "You want to get a drink? Like, celebrate the win."

At least this got her to look at him. Without expression, but anything was better than the indifference.

"I don't drink."

Of course she didn't. "I didn't mean alcohol in principle, but anything at all. You can't tell me you are not thirsty after a war. And hungry." It was normal to feel things like that stronger after a war because during one the body didn't need food or drink or rest. It was a little as if it all came back at once after the war was over and Huskar could usually eat a whole raptor then.

Her expression was unreadable. It had to be something the Veiled Sisters learned, just like they learned to throw a dagger with deadly precision.

"Okay."

Huskar stared. He had hoped for it but he hadn't actually thought she'd say yes. It felt like a déjà-vu but the grin wouldn't come like it had the last time. She had agreed to accompany him but it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like he continued on his way to certain doom.

There was a flicker in her eyes, just the tiniest bit. Huskar didn't know why. With a normal creature he'd have said she was disappointed that he didn't show joy at her answer but with her that couldn't possibly be it.

The way to the inn near the platform was a march of about an hour. They didn't talk at all while they walked. The Phantom Assassin didn't do small talk (or talk at all) and Huskar was lost in thoughts. He had this inner conflict, the desire to be near his soulmate fighting against the knowledge that it would be hell, that he'd suffer for the rest of his life.

Though she had agreed to get a drink with him, though she had fought with him, it wouldn't continue. She'd head back to her job and he'd head back home, alone. Forever without a mate.

Huskar growled under his breath. He had heard that it made creatures sentimental when they found their mate but this was crazy. He had wanted to find the one destined to be by his side, but he had never yearned for it the way he did now. Just thinking about being all alone in his house was almost like physical pain. It hurt.

At first he hadn't been sure if the Assassin was his mate, but somewhere along the uncertainty of it had vanished. He felt it, with every fibre of his being. This was the one creature, this was his soulmate. She could hide her mark as much as she wanted, it didn't matter.

The drink wasn't as nice as Huskar would've liked. The Assassin still didn't talk and he was too hungry to do much except eating. When he was finished with that and looked up at the female across the table, she was as always. No emotion visible on her features, nothing. She had eaten something as well, though not as much as Huskar. At least not when he compared the two piles of plates. He wasn't sure what to say to her, so he just downed his drink. A good delaying tactic, but he still didn't know what to say when he was finished with that.

The Phantom Assassin stared at him, not even trying to make this easier. "That's what you intended when you invited me for a drink? To sit there and stare at the table top?" She stood up. "I have to get going. Thank you for the town war."

Before he could reply, she had vanished. Not gone, she wasn't that fast, but she had blurred into the shadows, becoming nearly invisible. Huskar felt her presence for a few moments longer. Then he was alone. He sighed. What a wretched day.

As he had predicted, being alone at home was awful. He wondered if he could've made the Assassin stay longer with him at the inn. What she had said, it had sounded as if she had expected more. Huskar had been different than usual, because until now he hadn't thought about what it would mean for him to have a soulmate he could never reach.

He wouldn't survive it. Not if he got to know her better and maybe even fell in love with her.

The prospect of such misery made him want to punch something, made him want to kill, preferably with much bloodshed, pain and despair. If he could make others suffer more than he did, he would certainly feel better.

The following months would be known as the killing spree of the Sacred Warrior. He killed every creature that got in his way and so much as looked at him. But it didn't help. At least not much. Every night when he lay down to sleep, sadness would wash over him until he felt he couldn't breathe.

It was almost impossible for him to sleep, his dreams image after image of the Assassin. Afterwards it was all worse, his heart hurt more than his body did, which said a lot after weeks of almost no sleep, constant fighting, too little food and too much strain.

This wouldn't do. Huskar couldn't go on like that. But he didn't have an idea what to do instead. So he did the one thing that would at least buy him some time. He went into another town war. There he didn't feel pain, not like in the real world. There he didn't have to sleep. There everything was a mindless war, battle after battle. After the first, he did another and another. Until they all blurred together and he couldn't remember how many wars he had joined.

Between two wars, the Shadow Priest waited for him at one of the platforms. He appeared to be concerned as he addressed Huskar. "What are you doing? I've been informed you are behaving even crazier than usual. Did someone hit you too hard on the head?"

Huskar didn't want to talk to the other troll. He simply snarled at him and joined the next town war, therefore dodging the question. The words didn't show much concern, but the fact the Priest had come all the way to the platform and had probably waited there for who knew how long to talk to him, that hadn't happened before. He didn't care, though.

Then, in the next war, the worst happened. The Phantom Assassin was in the opposite team, was an enemy. Huskar didn't know until the war had been going for quite some time. It was one of the first bigger fights when he saw the distinctive blur at the edge of his vision.

His heart definitely stopped for a few beats and his whole body froze. This was the worst scenario he could've ever pictured. Maybe he had hoped to meet her again in a war, but not like that. Not as his enemy.

Because no matter what might happen, he could never hurt her. Not even when he knew that she was stronger and could dodge his spear. He just couldn't. Too absorbed in his thoughts, Huskar didn't even realize that his allies died one after the other. Only when he was hit square in the chest by some weapon did he come to his senses. By then it was too late. He didn't see the Assassin as he died.

Not sure what to do now, Huskar lurked around in the safe zone. His allies didn't take this very well and so he was on the run again not much after. But he was reluctant to engage in battles. Though he didn't see the Phantom Assassin again. It was as if she had vanished. Just like in real life, Huskar thought bitterly.

The enemy team was always only engaging as four, not the usual five. They were strong enough without the Assassin, because Huskar was afraid to fight. He wished she didn't take part in the fights because she was as reluctant to hurt him as he was to hurt her, but that couldn't be true. It was more likely that she farmed or pushed or did something that benefited her team more.

Huskar lost this town war, and afterwards he sat on one of the stones near the platform. His spear lay on the ground next to his feet and he buried his face in his hands. He had never felt this lost and alone in his whole life and it was going to destroy him.

Seeing the Assassin had brought everything back, the desperation and the hopelessness of his situation. A Veiled Sister who hid the mark of her mate.

There was no place in the world he could go to that would make him get over it. He had tried the town wars, but it didn't do, either. He could as well run into her there, as he had just found out.

Someone sat down on the stone next to Huskar. He didn't hear anything, he simply felt the presence of another creature. And he knew immediately who it was, without having to look. "Go away." He couldn't comprehend why she'd be here. He didn't think she took pleasure in the suffering of others but she didn't leave.

"What do you want?" He growled the words at her as he raised his head from his hands. She was as calm as ever, her face showing nothing at all.

"I never wanted to hurt you." Her voice was as devoid of feelings as her expression but her eyes, they flickered for a split second.

Huskar didn't care. Her sympathy gained him nothing, and it surely didn't make his pain vanish. He snarled at her even though he already knew she wouldn't react to it. "Oh come on, don't take yourself so seriously."

A flicker in her eyes again, about which Huskar still didn't care.

"This isn't about me?" Still calm, but there was a hint of something. Maybe uncertainty?

"Of course it isn't." Huskar would never admit to it, not as long as the female hid the mating mark. There was no use and he didn't want her pity or whatever this was going to be. "You are just some creature I fought a town war with. Nothing special there. Now go away, I want to join another war, preferably without you because you seem to be annoying today." He grabbed his spear and stepped into the middle of the platform. He felt her eyes on him but she didn't move and he didn't look back.

In the safe zone of the next town war he slumped, holding himself up on his spear. He shuddered and took a few deep breaths to clear his mind. At least here the pain was dulled, even the pain in his heart.

The encounter had been strange, but he tried to push it from his thoughts. It wasn't easy and he was noticeably absent-minded during the war. The female was really going to drive him crazy.

Huskar wondered what her intention had been, why she had talked to him, why she had approached him. He also wondered what she knew about his actions the last months. It had seemed as if she had more information than one town war against him to base her statement upon.

With a groan he tried to focus on the fight in front of him. She was in his head again, all the time again. No matter what he did and where he went.

It had been stupid, to be so proud and send her away like that. Maybe she would've stayed and he could've spent some time with her.

He groaned again. He had been there and he had decided that the pain afterwards wasn't worth it.

Fighting one town war after the other was more an automatism than anything else. He finished one and just remained on the platform where he appeared afterwards, starting the next one within a few moments. He didn't stop, he didn't think about it, he didn't rest once. He never left the platform.

The town wars were not designed to spend eternity fighting war after war. A creature had to stop at one point. In the wars, one was apart from the real world and sooner or later this would take its toll on the body. As Huskar found out the hard way.

He had just gotten back from a war they had won and though he wasn't happy, he was mildly relaxed. He waited for the next war, when he was hit by a wave of pain. It was so strong, he lost the grip on his spear and fell to the ground. At first he was able to hold himself on hands and knees, but the pain only got worse, until even that was too much.

It was hunger and thirst in a way he had never felt before, combined with utter exhaustion. He curled into a ball in the dirt of the platform, shuddering and groaning. He couldn't move, couldn't even form a coherent thought. It seemed the real world had just taken him back and since he had taken part in so many wars, the hunger he usually felt after a few was ten times worse. But he couldn't get up to do something about it. Instead the pain grew worse, until the mighty Huskar, the Sacred Warrior, passed out from it.

This could as well have been the end of him, considering that his body was completely drained.