"Pull the string all the way to your nose. Keep your elbow high."
"Is this right?"
Faye pressed her cheek to his. He was warm, the last embers of fever burning away under his skin. Faye's gaze followed the arrow down the sights to the target. The rabbit, blissfully unaware, nibbled on clover s a few yards away . For a moment the arrow faltered. Faye cupped his small elbow in her hand, leveling his aim. The child leaned into her touch.
"Perfect." Faye stole a glance at his pale blue eyes. "Fire only when the animal is looking down," she whispered.
The child released the arrow. The rabbit's eyes darted upward - fear gripped the creature to the spot.
Feathers scratched across Faye's cheek as the arrow flew.
The arrow rested in the trunk of a nearby tree. The rabbit bounded away.
"I missed. I'm sorry. "
The child was looking down dejectedly at the forest floor, wringing the bow in his grip. He would not look up at her. Faye tipped his head up to meet her gaze. His bottom lip quivered. Faye ran her thumb across his cheek.
"You never have to apologize to me, little one."
#
Faye woke with a start. She gripped her chest, her heart thundering hard against her ribs. That familiar tingle at the back of her neck made the hairs on her arms rise. It was the same feeling Faye had when she first saw a vision of the Kratos and the child. This time, the child seemed a bit younger and sickly. Up close this time, she could finally see the details of his face. It was so vivid. She could even see the flex of gold in his irises. There were deep scars in his face too, pink and healing. Faye flexed her hands. She could still feel the pitted channels of scar tissue under her thumb.
Faye wondered what could be triggering the visions. Did the choices she make influence the threads of time? If she had indeed killed Farbauti instead of letting him live, would she have visions of the child still? The thought made a more unsettling hypothesis burn in Faye's mind. The man and the child's fate could be intertwined. But how?
Faye glanced around her home for a moment. It was just past dawn and the cool temperatures from the night still clung to air. Embers burned low at the hearth and Faye's breath came in small puffs. The bedroll of furs beside the hearth was empty. She was alone for the moment. Her axe was gone as well. It occurred to her that Fárbauti could have simply taken the axe while she slept and abandoned his blades.
That would be inconvenient, she thought.
But highly unlikely. He had some deeper connection to the blades. They weren't mere weapons to him. Faye was certain that as long as she had the blades concealed, that Kratos would remain close by.
Faye eased herself upward one vertebra at a time. Despite how slowly she moved, there was still immense pain. Outside, came the sound of wood splitting under a blade.
Fárbauti. He hadn't left after all.
Faye released a burdened sigh. There was a part of Faye that dreaded having to face the god. If it came to blows again, Faye wasn't sure that she had another fight left in her. He was a god. And if she couldn't fight he could very well kill her.
She pulled on her jerkin and boots, then followed the sound. Faye paused at the threshold of her home, sparing a glance at her bow and quiver.
"Is this right?"
The child's voice reverberated in her mind. A shiver crawled up Faye's spine.
If the child and the god were connected, the only chance for answers she had was through Kratos. Faye curdled at the thought.
Faye limped outside, her bow in one hand and her quiver in the other. Fárbauti busied himself with a large heap of wood. Faye observed him for a moment. He threw down logs and swung the Leviathan with incredible ease. He sliced through the wood like a hot knife through a hunk of lard. He hadn't even broken a sweat. But his eyes were dull of emotion. His face held no expression. It was all mechanical.
"That's enough," Faye said. "That's more than we'll burn through in four cold nights."
"It is getting colder," Kratos grunted. He never took his eyes off the task. He swung the axe down and split another log in two.
"We still have time until the first snow. Save your strength." It made Faye's stomach twist to say 'we'. She did not like the idea of kinship with the god, but it was a necessary discomfort.
Kratos gave one last chop, his face hardened and still focused on the chore.
"How long will that be?"
"Two moon cycles at least." Fay shrugged. Kratos gave an exasperated sigh and set the axe in a log. He crossed his arms and glared at Faye.
"I know you are anxious to have your blades returned, Farbautie" she said, almost apologetically.
"I am."
"Hm," Faye thought, "Maybe you should have thought about that before you broke my ribs."
Faye tossed the bow and quiver at Kratos. He caught them and raised an eyebrow.
"We're going hunting," Faye said. She nodded at the bow. "I trust you know how to use it?"
Kratos slung the quiver over his shoulder and prepared and arrow.
"Good. Let's be off, then."
Faye called the Leviathan to her. She caught it and immediately winced, nearly dropping the weapon.
"You cannot wield that axe effectively in your state," Kratos said, eyeing her.
"Maybe not," Faye said, hefting the axe on her shoulder. "But it sure as Hel will scare off the reavers."
#
KRATOS
The woman was an excellent tracker. Her senses were tuned into every sound of the forest, every scent, every animal trail. Kratos followed close behind, careful not to tread heavily on the dried leaves and pine needles. Faye moved swiftly and silently, even though she was wounded. Kratos could see more clearly how formidable a hunter she truly was.
Faye stopped and crouched beside the underbelly of a pine tree. Beneath the shelter of branches was a small dark cavern cushioned with fallen needles. A cozy den. Kratos watched Faye as she hovered a hand over the bed of foliage.
"A doe rested here," she whispered to Kratos. He crouched beside her and wondered what those eyes saw, for he did not see the same. It only appeared to be dead pine needles. Faye sensed his bewilderment and spared a few more moments at the den.
"See her body," Faye grazed a finger over the needles, tracing a pattern. Kratos tightened his jaw, focusing hard on hunter's teachings.
"Taste her scent," Faye instructed. She breathed in deeply, leaving her mouth open slightly. Kratos did the same. He could catch the faintest musk of the animal on his tongue. Then, Faye offered her hand to Kratos. He hesitated a moment, his body going rigid.
Faye, unperturbed, took his hand and held it close to the earth. "Feel her warmth."
Kratos furrowed his brow and nodded. He was beginning to understand.
"It was here only moments ago," Kratos murmured.
"Then we must hurry. Come," Faye said. She released his hand and backed away from the den.
She made it look easy, and it rankled him a bit. It wasn't petty jealously, no, it was agitation at his own foolishness. He had been on the brink of starvation in these strange lands due to his ignorance to the native plants and animals. He would have to re-educate himself on how to survive this place through the winter. It would be difficult. Everything was so much different than Sparta. But Kratos did not allow himself linger long on the thoughts of home. Still, he could feel the grief gnawing at him.
Close your heart to it, He told himself. Kratos gripped the bow, channeling his focus into the hunt.
"This way," The hunter hissed. She crouched low and belly-crawled up a slight ridge. She motioned for Kratos to do the same. Reluctantly, Kratos crawled up the ridge. He laid flat on his stomach beside Faye. He could feel her warmth. She peeked over the edge and beckoned Kratos to look as well.
Down in a ravine, a family of deer grazes along a stream. Their coats were the color of Faye's hair, red as Spartan clay. There were several large stags with large crowns of antlers, followed by does and small juveniles. All prime targets. Kratos moved to take aim but his position on the ridge made it too awkward. He could miss the shot, and the deer could scatter, wasting time and energy.
"This is not an optimal position," Kratos said in a low voice. Faye shushed him.
"Just watch, Fárbauti," She whispered. Kratos bit back a growl and watched the deer.
"I see nothing," Kratos muttered.
"That is because you are not looking," Faye said. She pointed down at a doe with a dull sheen of fur. Speckles of white were in her muzzle.
"That one. She is the oldest and weakest."
"Why not the stag?" Kratos pointed at a robust male.
"If we hunt only the strongest and leave the weak, then what will happen? The wolves will come. And then we will have no more venison," Faye explained, edging herself back from the ridge.
"We are cull the weak," Kratos said. That concept, at least, he understood.
Kratos stood up and took aimed. The doe drank from the stream, blissfully unaware. On his exhale breath, Kratos released the arrow. The feathers of the bow scratched his cheek as it fired past. The arrow sang through the air and found purchase in the doe's chest. Straight the heart. The other red deer wailed and scattered, leaving only the felled doe.
Kratos backed off the ridge and prepared to traverse the ravine for his kill. The hunter stood in his way. She was looking at him, but it was something in her eyes that made Kratos stop in his tracks. The color was stricken from her freckled cheeks, and her eyes were wide. She stood rigid, taught as a pulled bowstring. She seemed shocked, as if suddenly realizing a terrible thing.
She blinked and came to her senses.
"We should go before scavengers come," she mumbled and hurried down the ravine. Kratos narrowed his eyes and followed.
#
FAYE
Kratos hefted the doe over his shoulder as they made their way back to the homestead. Faye walked ahead of him, her body stiff and mechanical. She had seen something on the ridge, something that frightened her. It was the same feeling Faye had when she saw the vision of the boy. She had seen something similar in Farbauti. It was as if she could see the fabric of time folding over itself, watching history repeat itself.
"Stop," Kratos ordered. His voice was low and rough.
"What is it?" Faye instinctively withdrew the Leviathan and tuned her senses to the forest for danger. The forest had gone silent. Not even the birds sang. The hairs on the back of Faye's neck raised on end.
"Look," Kratos pointed ahead through the forest. Faye squinted, and she could see a cart poking up from between trees several yards ahead. It wasn't moving. She heard no voices, no cries for help. Faye made a step forward but Kratos took her wrist.
"No. Wait here," Kratos grumbled. He laid down the deer quietly and reached out for the axe. Faye hesitated for a moment then passed it to him. She protested quietly inside as she did so. But what could she do in her condition? The axe would be useless to her. It was better off in more capable hands for the time being.
"I will signal for you when it is safe," Kratos said. He approached the cart and disappeared through behind the cover of trees.
Faye waited through painstaking moments of silence. But there was something filtering through the edges of her consciousness. A voice
"I'm sorry," It whispered. It was the child's voice. She could hear him as if he were standing right in front of her. She heard it repeating over and over in her head.
I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry….
It became a blur, a cacophony. Faye winced and gripped her ears.
"Stop it," she whispered. "Stop it." Was she going mad?
"Faye," Kratos called finally. The voice stoped. She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present moment.
Faye rushed in and took in the scene. The cart was ransacked. Broken crates and torn open baskets were littered about. There was not even the beast of burden to haul the cart. There was nothing left. Picked clean.
Faye made her way around to the front. A man lay dead at Kratos' feet.
"Gods' blood ," Faye cursed. It was an older man - a traveler by the looks of the looted cargo. His throat had been slashed and he lay in a pool of congealed blood . It was impossible that they could have been in the forest all day and not heard any cries for help. Faye crouched and examined the body. No, this corpse was days old. The eyes, still open, were opaque and sunken deep in the skull. The skin was pale and stiff like clay. Faye could see where scavengers had already begun to pick at his flesh.
"Reavers," Faye growled. Her chest tightened, and her side ached with her ragged breaths. This man might have had a family, a wife and children. What had become of them? Faye balled her hands to fists.
"Fucking savages," she growled. These reavers, these monsters , were wolves that moved in the night who preyed on the weak and helpless. Senseless, she roared inwardly. Senseless violence. These reavers were no different than the gods that slaughtered her kin.
"We should leave this place," Kratos suggested. "More may come."
Kratos was right. There was nothing Faye could do. The trail was too cold to track, and she was too injured to fight.
"Fine," Faye snarled. She took a shaky breath and flexed her fingers, rage still burning inside her.
"Lo, there do I see my Mother." Faye bit down on her rage and folded the corpse's hands over his chest.
"We should not linger here-"
"Lo, there do I see my Father," she spoke over Kratos. She hoped that this traveler's spirit would find peace. She hoped that if he had a family, that they would survive the winter without him.
"Lo, there do they call to me."
The image of the child flashed in her mind again. Faye heard his voice.
"Lo, there do they call to me."