Vasan's body sat amongst the others as the remaining townsfolk continued to line up the dead. It would be a quick, mass burial, where those who lived would be able to pay their final respects. Everyone who had perished was about to be brought down into their own shallow grave. The young men had taken it upon themselves to dig up the ground in preparation for what would happen.
This would be the only chance they had to say goodbye before everyone got ready to start moving.
Cassandra knelt beside his body as her hand graced his pale and lifeless face. "Thank you for everything that you've done for me. I just want you to know that it helped. I wish that I had met more people like you in my life. Rest well, and be at peace."
Bradford and Gerten, the two men who had previously bullied the young man, stood close with tears in their eyes as they approached him. They still had their lives because of what he did. His brave sacrifice went above and beyond what he needed to do at that time. They could only wish to one day have the strength that he had.
Vasan's mother walked in from behind Cassandra and laid eyes upon her deceased son. Her screams and cries mixed in with those of all the others who had to watch their loved ones be buried. The brunette stood up and shuddered as she saw the older woman fall onto her hands and knees.
"Not my boy! Not my boy!"
Cassandra wasn't sure if this was her finding out that he had died, or if she still had yet to come to terms with the truth. Both possibilities checked out, and she did not intend on asking. Bradford was seen by her side, doing his best to comfort her. Gerten leaned over the shovel in his hands. The edge of the tool was half-stuck in the soil. The man looked like he wanted to throw it to the side.
These poor people…
Gibbin tapped Cassandra on her shoulder. "We best be on our way."
He came with a rucksack of items to add to what was already hooked onto the steed nearby. The animals resembled horses. In fact, they were an almost one-for-one swap. The only difference was their longer backs and the presence of very short antlers atop their heads. Other than that, they were nothing different.
If Cassandra understood anything about horses, it was that those animals could walk for miles, and they had a long journey ahead of them.
"Yeah," she replied under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear her. "I guess it's time to go." She threw her bag over the back of the steed when the voice of Gerten was heard behind her.
"Miss Cassandra!"
She turned her head. "Yes?"
"Look, before you leave, we just wanted to wish you the safest of travels." It was a change from the cocky attitude that he displayed when they first met. Given everything thing that had taken place since, it was no wonder why his view of the world may have suddenly changed.
"Thank you." Her face carried a faint smile. She tried her best to bring up a warmth that would fight the coldness of the death in her heart.
"You, Lia, Milo, and Vasan; you did a great thing for these people. I just wanted to tell you that we thank you. Things would have been so much worse had we not had you all. I wanted to say that I'm sorry about everything. Please, get home safe."
"Thank you, Gerten. Take care of these people."
He gave her a firm nod, but one that carried the weight of responsibility. The survivors were in for an equally long journey, and with the fresh memories of their dead families in their minds, it would be a trail of despair carved across the plains of this world. This was a time when everyone had to come together to look out for one another. He could only hope that in the future, a semblance of what was once normal could be achieved.
Milo's remains had been collected and buried alongside Lia's. Cassandra had missed the burial process, but with the way they were, she felt okay with that. That was not how she wanted to remember either of them. Before she got onto the steed, she gestured toward the burial line. "I just want to say something over there," she said.
"Do what you must," Gibbin replied.
With a deep breath, Cassandra walked away and approached the dirt patches where the bodies of her third family had been laid to rest. Headstones were not to be found, but small panels of wood sat stuck in the ground with their names inscribed upon the grains.
Milo Armas
Beloved doctor and father
We thank you for your love and care
Lia
Beloved healer and sister
We thank you for saving us all
Cassandra felt herself getting choked up as she knelt in front of them. Her quaky hand could hardly straighten as her fingers graced the dirt below. She pulled it back, but only for a moment.
"Thank you," she spoke with a shaky voice, already spilling tears. "You two were the greatest people that could have taken me in. I've always needed you. I wish to live as you both were: happy, strong, and faithful to the good that you believed in. Milo, you were a great father to Lia and Leta. Thank you for sparing a fraction of your love for me."
Her eyes turned to the grave of the fawn. "Lia…I love you. Thank you for saving me – in every way possible. I hope we meet again, someday. I will never forget us."
She had a mountain of words that she could have said, but those were the only ones that she could muster. Her hands rose to her mouth to cup her lips as her eyes tensed shut. A slow, dull wail sang as she stayed there for the next couple of minutes. Sniffles and abrupt gasps for air came along during that time, but the brunette would otherwise not move from her position. It took everything in her to keep herself together.
She had the right to cry, but she wanted to be strong in front of the others. They needed hope that the future would be alright. To see another person so distraught was not going to do them any help.
I wish things never ended this way.
Gibbin came up from behind her again, hesitant to even bother her. She could feel his presence. It was more noticeable than those heavy footsteps of his. As much as she wanted to stay, she knew that she had to break away from this.
Acomb was going nowhere. It was dead, and so was everyone buried underneath it. The survivors would have to move on. It was the only safe thing left for them in this world.
She tucked her head as she stood up. "I'm ready," she mumbled.
Gibbin's brow was curved with the plague of sadness. His gentle nature was in full swing as he extended his large hand to pat her shoulder and nurture her soul. Cassandra's chest rose and fell with a steady breath, and her amber eyes lifted to meet his.
"Where to?" She asked.
"I reckon we follow the Spector Moons. They set in the south. Tyillioum is to the north. We stay on the opposite end and we'll find our path. I packed extra in case we run afar from our course. Locwitary is a vast land, and there's no telling where we could end up."
"Then it's just us, then," Cassandra remarked as she turned her body away from the graves.
A woman's voice carried into her ear, "This isn't goodbye."
She turned back, puzzled that there was nobody there. "Did you hear that?"
Gibbin looked just as confused as she was. "Hear what?"
Her eyes dropped to the ground. "Nothing. I guess that I'm just losing my mind. Let's go." She sighed as she stepped away from the dead, setting her sights ahead on the steed.
To their amazement, the animal was covered head to toe in blue birds. The large flock all had their heads affixed to the duo, while the steed was as calm as could be. There were too many to count, but she estimated that there had to have been fifty to sixty birds atop the creature.
What the…
Gibbin was astounded. "Where did they all come from?"
"I don't know," Cassandra responded.
The flock inexplicably shot up into the air, fluttering away – leaving one bird behind. The animal turned its small eyes toward Cassandra, chirping loudly and flapping its wings. An odd feeling came over the brunette, and she felt compelled to walk up to the steed and begin their trip. Gibbin remained hesitant, but he would not stray from the woman.
As soon as Cassandra's gloved hands took the reins, the bird gave a tilt of its head before it turned around and flew away. As her gaze followed the feathered thing toward the sky, she saw that the flock was circling them.
Are they waiting?
Gibbin hopped on board, extending his hand for her to grab onto. It didn't take much to hoist her slender body up behind him, and as soon as the two were set, the flock of birds took off in one direction. The burly butcher would not take his eyes off them.
"I think we found a better guide than the Spector Moons," he stated.
"Me too."
It had been six or seven hours since they first charted off. Cassandra kept her head rested against Gibbin's back as the man guided the steed across the various hills and paths that made up the Locwitarian wilderness.
The Spector Moons were lowering amidst a bright orange sky. It would be nightfall in an hour. They had made it pretty far since the start of their trip. She knew nothing of the area, and asking Gibbin for any update was not going to get them there any faster. The process had to be trusted – as did the birds.
The flock hovered around them up in the sky, directing their path. Gibbin had made mention of what the blue birds represented. There was a link between them and fawns, according to him. It sounded like the same thing that Lia had told her during their fruit-picking session. Cassandra questioned him on how much he knew about it, but the man could only tell her so much.
"It's all up to interpretation," he said. "Blue birds, blue fire. Fawns have always been one with nature. That's the way I see it."
Ever since she had arrived here, Cassandra's view of the world had been limited to her immediate surroundings. The mountains that oversaw the distance near Milo's castle were a beautiful sight, as were the tall trees that surrounded them. Her short-lived time in Tyillioum had seen nothing but grey skies and unending fields of long grass. Deas was left to be determined, but as the steed brought them along, her eyes could not be taken off the shine of the Spector Moons as they cast their fading light over the lakes and bushes along the outskirts of this land.
Glimmers of brightness sparked off the waves, as a herd of deer-like animals drank from its body. Their heads raised to glance at the mounted travelers across the berm. Their snouts were sharply rounded, with tiny, dog-like ears and wide nostrils. Their legs were at least twice as long as any deer she had ever witnessed, and when the steed strayed too close, the creatures took off, galloping away in a blink.
Gibbin chuckled to himself. "Ah, ginyols. Ever so evasive."
"They're so beautiful…"
"Yeah." He tilted his head to the side of his shoulder, alerted by the soft sound of her voice. "They are something else. Sometimes, I think they were never meant to be caught."
Things that are never meant to happen, still find a way of happening…
With the sky now a deep orange, Cassandra and Gibbin stopped by a clearing. For the sake of heading in the right direction, they opted to make camp for the time being. The birds had abruptly stopped their flight, nesting on a tree nearby. That was the first cue for them to halt their journey for now.
Cassandra wanted to continue on, but Gibbin had warned her about the dangers of the night. Dhins would wander the plains, but their vision at night was more dependent on movement than anything else. Travelers would often bed down and see the beasts strolling past their location. Even fire wouldn't spike their interest, but the sound of conversation surely would.
With the Spector Moons nearing the edge of the landscape, Cassandra had set up a small bed composed of a fur blanket and a makeshift pillow comprised of bagged items. Gibbin had prepared himself with the same accommodations, which were nothing unusual for the woodsman. His pack would support his head, and the sword by his side was of greater importance than anything else.
A tiny campfire had been lit, but the night was supposed to be warm. It was only for the two to unwind after a long day of moving forward. The steed beside them had taken the opportunity to lie down on the ground, its head nestled out of view. The creature had spent the most energy today, and it needed to rest.
As for the brunette, she could barely find any reprieve from her troubles.
It pained her to think that Leta was still out there, somewhere, in the clutches of that violent woman. She wanted to be the one to go and save her, but she knew she would be walking straight into death. If she had her powers, then maybe she could stand a chance against Narratha. Without them, she was as strong as any one of the poils. Gibbin was a fighter, but even she feared what would happen to him once he located Leta.
The man had managed to survive the lickers. It was a miracle that none of the beasts had sunken their teeth into him. Maybe he had what it took, she thought. He was strong. He was experienced in survival.
All she had ever done was murder defenseless people. Her experience in killing was great, but it was nothing to be proud of. Each one of the maids was like a small goat backed into a corner with nowhere to go. She flaunted her advantages over them, preying on their weakness and fear.
What a coward, she thought.
Ethan Winters was the first person who had ever truly given her a fight. Once he leveled the playing field, it quickly became apparent how she was going to lose. Her anger and shock got the better of her. She charged at him like a wild animal, swinging her sickle with no strategy at all. She never knew what it was like to lose, and with each punch and bullet he sent her way, her unraveling only expedited.
Her first real fight – and she lost.
Narratha and Falena were something else entirely. Those fawns were not some desperate father searching for his daughter. They were ferocious killers who strived for cruelty. This was an entirely different kind of conflict, one that greatly upped the stakes. The redhead herself was a powerful being who could rip a person apart without even touching them. She carried the same smile of sadism that the brunette used to see on her own face.
The gleam in her eye paired with it was a symbol of her status as death's adopted daughter.
Walking up to Narratha was the fastest way to die. She was dangerous and she knew it. Maybe Gibbin could come up with a way to get Leta out of there. More than likely, he would be slaughtered in the first minute. That thought brought despair to Cassandra's heart. She knew she was giving up on her, even though she didn't want to.
When Gibbin had told her that she could still find her way home, even though he did not know of her otherworldly origins, she knew she had to get back to Bela and Daniela. That was what she had been working toward this whole time. There was a battle going on in Locwitary, and she was at risk of being pulled into it.
If she could get home, she could still save her sisters and hopefully undo the damage that was caused in the end. It was a tall order – one that made her feel like she was in over her head. Miranda was equally as dangerous, as was Alcina.
Would Bela and Daniela even be savable? She wasn't certain, but she would have to try.
Leta…I'm sorry. I don't know what to do. I am so scared for you. Gibbin has a plan. I trust him. I just don't trust myself. I don't want you to see me die.
With the warm breath of the fire at her ungloved hands, Cassandra leaned forward as Gibbin pulled out a container of water. There would be no alcoholic beverages for him tonight. Even though the dull cradling of intoxication would ease his mind, the man knew when he had to remain alert. Times like these were one of them.
"Care for some?" He held the bottle out to her. She waved it off.
"No thanks."
"Ah…" Gibbin put it away, feeling the sadness in her quiet voice. He had never seen her so upset, but the reasons were all there. With a sigh, he assumed the same position as her, moving closer to the fire. "I feel like she should make it there by tomorrow. Start first thing in the morning, and we'll be close to the fawns by next nightfall."
Cassandra kept her eyes on the fire. With her hood down, her depression was on full display. "Okay."
Gibbin tucked his head. "Do you have family back at home?"
"I…" She cut herself off, not sure if she remembered the lies that she had told him in the past. "I don't know."
Gibbin nodded. "We'll get you there. The fawns will know what they're doing. I'll ask them about what they can do to help me. I don't know if they know about what those two did to Acomb, but, there must be a way. Fawns have elders for a reason."
Cassandra would not move her eyes. Her voice remained dull and broken, "Lia was able to stop them, but she's gone. If there are any others out there like her, then…I guess…"
"I miss her as well," he remarked. "Milo too. All of them."
She drew in a long breath that carried a wail as her lungs shuddered. It was obvious that she was about to start crying again. Gibbin wasn't sure if he had made the right decision regarding bringing Lia up. This all had to be so incredibly painful for Cassandra, but he understood the pain himself.
"She loved you. I could tell."
Her eyes finally turned to him. "What are you talking about?"
He forced a laugh out of his mouth. It was low, but audible enough to cement her focus on him. "You've always been a terrible liar, you know?"
She broke her gaze and shook her head. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"I saw the way you two held hands. Lia never did that with anyone. The look in her eyes whenever they would see you. Her smile. Never seen that fawn so happy. Maybe I'm wrong, but she cared about you."
A silent tear trickled down the brunette's cheek. Her voice cracked, "She did."
"Lia would come around Acomb now and then," Gibbin mentioned. Cassandra's interest had already been acquired. She wanted to know more about the fawn that held her heart. "She'd often be accompanied by Milo. Sometimes people needed healing. She was there to do what she had to do, but that was it. Milo would offer to introduce her to some of the poils her age, yet, she would refuse. Leta was always more outgoing, but her sister was not. Some of the young men would look at her, which she was pretty vocal about. They were never ready for her temper."
Cassandra couldn't help but chuckle. "She did have one."
"Yeah, her yelling even worried me," Gibbin laughed. "I did notice how she would glance at some of the ladies walking about, but she never said anything. She just kept her head down and went about her business. One time, a young woman wanted to talk with her, but she got nervous and vanished at that very moment. When I saw you two together, it all made sense."
Cassandra raised her brow.
"You must have won her heart," Gibbin said.
The brunette parted her lips as those amber eyes floated around the campfire. What was the point of pretending? She had learned long ago that living behind a false act was never going to get her anywhere. If Gibbin knew the truth, then what mattered?
"I loved her," Cassandra fearlessly stated.
The butcher broke a warm smile. "I'm glad that you gave her what she had always wanted. If I knew Lia, I would think that she wouldn't want to see someone she loved to be in such heartache."
She shrugged her shoulders. "Everything just feels broken. It's like none of this was ever supposed to happen."
"We can't choose our lives, but, we can choose what we do." Gibbin wiped his brow. "When Lia saved my life, I thought about what being alive meant. Those dhins almost killed me, and I felt like a fool for wasting what I was given. Lia told me to cherish it, and I looked at her and didn't know what to say. She kept her hand on my wound, staring at me like she was reading my soul. Whatever she thought, it must have been good enough for her to not have to say anything else. I think she knew I was on this path before I did."
"I wish she was here to tell me what to do." Cassandra ran her hands through her hair. "She knew me more than I knew myself."
"Despite her temper, Lia always had a way of reaching out to people when they needed her," Gibbin said. "I remember her stopping what she was doing to talk to a teenage boy who was sitting down by one of the fences, crying his eyes out. She just sat next to him, consoling him like she was an older sister, or maybe a mother. I don't know what she said, but after a little while, I saw the boy hug her and walk off with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. She vanished right after, but I think her job was done. She just had that kind of energy, I'd say."
Cassandra sniffled some more as the memories of the fawn she loved began to remerge. She wanted to be held and be told by Lia that everything was going to be okay. This was what loss was all about – having to contend with the absence of something we held dear.
She brushed the tears away from her eyes and settled down, shaking her head once again. "I just want to go home."
"To Tyillioum?" Gibbin asked. The way he said it was a tad odd, but nonetheless, Cassandra simply resided in silence. The weight of the conversation about Lia was still pressing her into the ground.
After a short moment, the brunette merely tilted her head and sighed.
"Tyillioum isn't where you're from, now, is it?"
What?
"What do –" Cassandra stopped herself from lying as soon as she made eye contact. Gibbin's demeanor was calm. All the man did was look at her whilst he kept his hands in front of the fire. There was no antagonism to be found in the way he asked, as it was more of a confirmation, rather than anything else. "What do you know?"
He turned his eyes to the stars above. "After what I've witnessed in Acomb – nothing." Gibbin twiddled his wide thumbs as he thought about what he was about to say next. His hand rose to scruff his large beard, and he went on, "Those creatures came out of those openings that Narratha created. She had a link to another world. The townsfolk were wrong to blame you for the massacre. However, I do believe that those creatures were not the first things from a different universe to enter our realm."
She stared at him with a firm fixation. Her eyes narrowed, knowing that he was onto her. There was no use in lying. What was she to gain when she had already lost everything? Her shoulders lowered, as did her head. "When did you figure that out?"
"Had a hunch as soon as I first met you," he said. "You never looked anything like a poil. Skin is as pale as a corpse. No freckles. No green eyes. Definitely not a fawn. Most of all…" He giggled to himself, hoping to add some humor to the conversation and lighten the mood. "Lia was so interested in the other realms. Milo would tell me all about it. I wouldn't have been surprised that they took in a stray such as yourself."
Cassandra looked at him again, unsure of where to go next with this talk. Her emotions were aching. Part of her just wanted to scream at him to end it. The rest of her was happy that there was still someone out there who cared. Gibbin was her greatest ally now, and the butcher had proven himself to be trustworthy time and time again. Gone were the days when he was an insufferable stranger – when everyone she met was without her friendship.
It all seemed so long ago.
"She did," Cassandra said. "They all took me in and protected me; from this world, and myself. I felt so alone. So angry. So lost. Lia was going to find a way to return me to my home, and she discovered how. Then, those fawns destroyed everything, and I lost her."
Gibbin pulled out a stick of dried meat from his back pocket. She wanted to grimace at the possibility of how long it had been stowed there. He took a bite, and she averted her eyes. "Acomb is never going to be the same again, not with all those bad memories. However, we will still fight for what we strive for. Lia was the heart of our town. She taught us to take care of ourselves and to take care of others. This world is empty without her."
He bit down some more on the dense piece of meat before he swallowed it. "But, she is not the only fawn out there. I told you those elders can get you home. Did Lia ever mention them?"
"Hardly."
"Ah, they are a powerful lot. Elder fawns are surges picked for leadership. Their powers are often quite substantial. If Lia could do something, I'm certain a group of them can do the same thing as well. Your lady carried a great amount of energy, but those elders are the next best bet."
Cassandra felt her heart tighten as she thought more about what lay ahead for her. "Can I have a piece of that?" She gave up on all her standards, asking for a portion of the butcher's back-pocket snack.
"Oh, here!" He reached over into his bag and withdrew a fresh one. A quick toss placed the strip into the brunette's grasp, and her stomach couldn't have been happier.
Risk and reward, I suppose…
Cassandra took a bite, munching on the dehydrated flesh of whatever animal he had hunted.
Gibbin grumbled to himself as he stared into the fire, "It's a tragedy that such a good soul had to sacrifice herself because of those two demons."
She curled her legs against her chest, leaning over them in an ashamed posture. The crackles of the campfire sparked around in the air, while the night sky hovered above her. With her black gown that she had worn so often, she felt like a shadow in the darkness. If it wasn't for the illumination of the flames, she may as well have been a ghost.
She had changed into them in preparation for the chance that she may return home. It was time to abandon Locwitary and get back to the life she had lived. She had everything she needed to do so, but the woman who had lived that life of violence was gone. The look may have been there, but the sadistic drive she previously thrived on was not.
Nonetheless, she still could not forget the memories of what she had done, and hearing Gibbin express contempt for the fawn's actions reminded her of her sins. She couldn't lie anymore.
Not to him.
Not to herself.
Cassandra took another bite of the food and ingested it, tasting the kindness of a friendship born from ignorance. "Those monsters that destroyed Acomb came from my world. I do not know what they are, but my world is full of monsters."
"Ah…all the more to hunt, right?" Gibbin's voice sounded unsure of what he believed in. "Wonder what a world full of that would look like…"
The man had often gone about as an excited champion of the trees. Even after his close call with death, he still found enjoyment in stalking the woods in pursuit of sustaining those he cared for. It seemed as though after all the death that he had beheld today, some beasts were better left back in the depths of Hell.
She spoke meekly with a sense of fear, "May I confess something to you?"
"Sure." He turned his head to her, snapped away from his previous train of thought. "Of course!"
"Not all monsters look like that." She sighed with a short flick of her brow as her amber eyes drifted to the dirt. "Some look like me."
"What do you mean?"
"Lia and Milo both knew this," she explained. "Leta unfortunately found out, too. You look at those two fawns as these horrific people, and maybe they are. They killed so many innocent poils."
She could feel her chest cavity filling with dread. This was the edge of the cliff and she was one inch away from plummeting down to the valley below. There was still time to pull back on her words. She could still lie and get through the night. She had already spoken too much, but maybe there was a way to fix it.
But, she couldn't. The only way out was forward.
After everything that had transpired in the last week of her life, Cassandra could no longer live in secrecy. Gibbin was here to risk his life for her before he would go on to risk it for Leta. If he so detested Narratha and the other fawn for their actions, then what made her worthy of his help?
He deserved to know the truth if he was willing to die for it.
"I spent a lifetime living in a castle, controlled by a woman with no humanity, only apathy, envy, and greed. Despite the control she held over me and how much she had twisted my mind, I always ended up making my own decisions in the end, within the parameters of the life she gave me. Everyone in our castle enjoyed torturing, killing, and consuming the blood of those unfortunate enough to exist behind those walls. I enjoyed it the most. I did unspeakable things to so many people."
Her eyes locked onto his, flashing the glimpse of the killer behind them. "You have the right to know that you are sitting next to one of those monsters. I may not have killed people in your world, but I have in mine. So, so many lives gone – all because of me."
Gibbin would not take his eyes off of her. His face was expressionless, albeit stunned. The atmosphere grew tense. Cassandra could feel that something was not right. She expected that at any moment, the man would stand up and order her off into the darkness – if he didn't try to kill her himself.
She wasn't certain what prompted her to divulge the truth of her past to him. Lia had already accepted her transgressions as something far out of her control, but were they? Narratha's conscious choices to slaughter the townsfolk were just the same as her own back in her world.
Gibbin seemed to be a man of good judgment. She wanted to know whether or not she was still a monster in his eyes. If he could speak for the town, then he could speak for everyone else.
Seconds passed without another word from him. Cassandra decided that she would continue speaking, hoping that further insight would expedite her fate, "I take no satisfaction in what I've done. I seek to change it. When her control over me broke, and I saw the love that this world had, I have been at war with myself. Lia brought the best in me out. I want to do this for her. But, this Narratha woman is not the only killer here."
Her eyes fell. "I just figured you should know."
Gibbin took a long breath and he assumed a similar posture as her. His large forearms rested on top of his knees. He set down his food to the side. His mind was already swimming in the abyss of revelation.
"I killed a man, once," he said. Cassandra could not believe her ears when she heard it.
What?
"Gibbin?" She looked at him, seeing how ashamed he was of himself.
"In another town, years back, me and this fellow got into an argument. I can't even remember why, would you believe it? Voices got raised, and words were said. I swung at him. Clocked him right in the nose. I should have stopped there but I didn't. I pummeled him as he lay there on the ground. Fists were as bloody as a dhin's mouth. I couldn't think straight. I got so angry for whatever reason. Others pulled me away, but we all knew that he was dead. I left town that night, and never came back."
"So, that's why you came to Acomb?" Cassandra asked.
"No," he replied, looking more defeated than ever. "I spent the next two years living around settlement to settlement, making due as best I could. Word got around about the man I killed. I found out his name, where he lived." Gibbin rolled his shoulders. "Turns out he was married."
"What did you do?"
"I went to go find his house and confess to his wife that I had killed her husband. It had been eating away at me all this time. I felt it would have been right to give her that closure. The fates could decide what came after. Guilt is a terrible thing."
Cassandra nodded as she wrapped her arms around her legs. "It is."
"I find the house she lived at; see her in the back, washing clothes. I was ready to walk over there, but then I see this little boy outside the front door. The lad couldn't have been older than three. He looks right at me and I just turn away. Got right on my steed and took off."
Gibbin had always come off as a strong man without emotions perceived as 'weak,' but as he told his story, Cassandra could see the tears starting to fall from his eyes. His deep voice cracked as he bowed his head, "I didn't know he had a kid. How do I tell that child that he doesn't have a father because of me? I've never been afraid of any animal, not even the dhins that almost killed me. I tell you this: I'm terrified of that little boy. This was years ago, but I still see the way he looked at me whenever I close my eyes. He just wanted his dad."
Cassandra got up from where she sat and moved over to comfort him. Her thin arms wrapped around his large body, and the butcher choked up as he leaned into her. "It's okay," she said.
Another sniffle. "Yeah…I know."
"You're not a monster," Cassandra reminded him.
"Neither are you. And if you are, then so am I. If you get a second chance, don't think about whether you deserve it, just take it. It's all you got left sometimes."
What do I have left?
Leta's mouth was dripping with blood. Still tied to the chair, the fawn could only work her hardest to tolerate the pain that Narratha had inflicted upon her. The redhead stood just a foot away. Her blood-stained fingers graced the rim of the child's bottom lip – her eyes fixated on its split center.
With a gleeful grin, Narratha flicked the wound and shook her head. "What don't you understand about silence, dear child? It is late, and I cannot sleep with your crying keeping me up. Must we do this again?"
Tears ran down Leta's cheeks, washing away some of the blood along her chin. Despite her shudders, the girl was too afraid to make a sound. At the slightest hint that she might, Narratha would crack her knuckles. A second punch would not be far away at this rate.
With a voice shakier than ever, she responded to the violent woman, "No."
"I am doing my best for you," Narratha said. "I have provided you a chair to rest in. This room is lively, is it not?" She then pointed to the dark hallway straight across from where they were. Past the stone walls was nothing but uncertainty, and with the redhead at the helm, it had to lead to a horrific fate. "I could always send you down there. I am fighting the urge to do so, but every time I have to hear you cry, that urge starts to win. Trust me: you do not want to go down there."
"Understood." Leta trembled in her seat. The level of terror in her veins was overwhelming. The skin around her wrists was purple with how tightly she had pulled against the bindings. Narratha's hand felt foreign to her. It was not the comforting touch of Lia's.
It was the touch of a killer.
Narratha's perspective of kindness was far from loving. Her anger was thinner than a hair, and at any moment, Leta feared she would be carved up. The woman's cannibalistic tendencies were on full display at times. From subtle remarks about the taste of blood, to the way she gorged herself on the fawn meat in front of her – her evil knew great lengths.
She patted Leta's face, watching as the child softly recoiled away. It brought out a low chuckle from her as she withdrew her hand, sampling a drop of the girl's blood that was on the tip of her finger. "I can only imagine what Lia would have tasted like. Such great powers she had. All gone to waste. What a pathetic fawn she was; giving her life for those poils. Rewarding flesh burnt to nothing."
Leta tried to hold in her sadness, but the pain from the barrage of insults toward her deceased sibling was something that she could not withstand. She choked forward, crying out with rolled brows and heightened cheeks. Even the split in her lip could not restrain her agony.
As soon as the loud cries sounded – Narratha stayed true to her word.
The next punch knocked her over. The chair lifted from the ground and came crashing back down. The impact against Leta's face was so blunt that she hardly felt it, at first. Even the trip down to the floor was swift and unremarkable. It all happened so quickly, but when she felt the wrath of the bindings against her wrists again, the shock from the blow gradually began to wear off.
That was when the onset of a warm liquid traveled across her right cheek. The trickles advanced toward her ear, and out of the corner of her dizzy eye, she could see the droplets of blood collecting along the stone floor. Her view of it only lasted a second or two before Narratha's legs came into view. The woman gripped the arms of the chair with all her might and spun it around.
Leta and her were now face to face – and she looked furious.
"What did I say?!" Narratha's thunderous voice ripped Leta away from the cloudiness of her mind. She took the child by the throat, gripping her neck tight as she shook her around wildly. "Why can't you listen?"
Leta was scared for her life. Against her better judgment, she screamed out for help, as if Lia would somehow come back from the dead and rescue her from this woman. Narratha lost all control. She began striking her against the side of the head, splashing more blood across the child's face as she flailed around. The pain was something that she had never felt before. Her cheeks and bones screamed as the redhead's knuckles and open palms collided with them.
Not content with how much hate she had dealt, Narratha took Leta by the hair as she began to drag her across the room, knocking the other chairs over along the way. After about a dozen feet of traveling, the killer stopped again and resumed her attack, gripping Leta by her shoulders and slamming the chair she was tied to against the ground repeatedly.
"I said stop crying!"
Leta tried to close her mouth, but the intensity was too much for her to bear. She continued to yell, which only set Narratha off further. Another slap across the face resulted in more blood pooling into the fawn's mouth.
Falena's voice came out from behind her, "Narratha, calm down! We don't want to kill her!"
The blonde's hands touched upon her accomplice's shoulders, fighting to pull her off the child. In a shocking turn of events, Narratha turned around and directed her anger toward the fawn behind her. Blinded by rage, she suddenly grabbed Falena by the hair and tossed her onto the ground beside Leta.
Falena yelped as soon as she landed. By the time she was done, Narratha was already on top of her.
"Who are you to tell me what to do?!" She opened up with a series of punches and kicks, battering Falena's slender body. The blonde curled inward as best she could, trying to block as many of the hits as possible. It was a futile attempt, as Narratha's swings were strong. She didn't need any of her powers. Her natural strength was sufficient enough to dispense the kind of torment she wanted to deliver.
"Narratha, please!" Falena cried. "Stop!"
The beating only worsened. Leta was forced to observe the chaos with open eyes as Falena buckled against the damage. Narratha grabbed her by her long hair, repeating the same thing she had done to the child.
Falena was subsequently dragged across the floor, right before a swift kick was delivered to her midsection. Narratha hovered over her, shoulders raised, fists clenched, and teeth bared.
"You hold no say! Argh!" Narratha leaned forward, ready to grab her again. Her fingers were spread wide, like a poised carnivore. She stopped herself just before her claws could ensnare her helpless accomplice, pulling back and returning to her previous posture. "Don't you ever do that again, do you understand?!"
"Yes!" Falena's tearful voice cried out.
Narratha kicked her again. "Answer me!"
"Yes, Narratha! I understand!"
With a heated grunt, Narratha turned her eyes to Leta. The same expression of hatred was adorned on her face, but she only huffed before making her exit, leaving the two fawns as they were. As soon as she was out of the room, the girl turned her eyes toward the blonde, who was still on the ground, crying.
Falena kept her whimpers as quiet as possible whilst she slowly turned and got onto her knees. She was hunched over, still reeling from the pain of having the wind knocked out of her. Her long hair obscured her face in the beginning, but those sharp, ivory cheeks and freckled nose came into view as she reared her head up.
She gasped for air, while her eyes remained pink and tearful. The fawn clutched her stomach with one hand and she used the other to pull herself up against the table. A short moment of staggering around followed before she began to make her way out.
Still sobbing from the attack, Leta tried to find common ground with her. "Falena…wait."
The blonde stopped where she was and peeked her head over from across her shoulder. She said nothing.
Leta kept trying, "You know this isn't right." She spat out some of the blood that pooled inside the corners of her gums. "You didn't deserve that."
Falena turned around, staring at her with wide eyes and quivering lips.
Leta had to keep breathing in between sentences. She was drained of energy, and the agony of her wounds would not subside. "This doesn't have to be your life. You can escape it. Please, don't leave me here."
Falena's green eyes shuffled around the room before she began to walk up to the overturned child. Still trying to recuperate from the beatdown, the blonde fought to raise the chair back up onto its legs. It took a great deal of strength, but she was able to accomplish it. Once Leta was propped up, the two of them were left to stare at one another.
The blonde swallowed her weakness and exhaled a large breath. "Leave?"
"Yes," Leta affirmed. "You don't have to do everything she tells you."
"Leave…" Falena squinted her eyes as she pressed her stare harder. "Why would I leave? Why?!"
Leta's heart rate peaked. She knew she was in trouble.
Falena grabbed her by the ends of her hair. "You worthless little girl! Don't you ever tell me what to do!"
"Stop!" Leta cried, only for Falena to cover her mouth.
"I will not suffer because of you!" She immediately kicked Leta's chair back down onto the ground. The last thing the child saw before another onslaught of abuse rolled her way was the soddened and wrathful glare of the blonde. Falena would not relent until she drew more blood.
Leta could not see anything after the woman's boney knuckles connected with her eye sockets, but in between consciousness, she could hear the wailing groans of a young lady battling her mind. Torn between everything she knew and felt, the only path out was a streak of violence that abided by the standard Narratha had sought from her.
Broken as ever – she would not stop until her despair was transferred from her heart.
And thus, the cycle of violence continued.
Ten Years Ago
*Eight Months Before the Massacre*
"So, is that it?" Narratha waved her arms as her sister, Nackia, stood across from her with two other surges. The argument had been going on for a few good minutes, but it seemed to be going nowhere.
Nackia's brows were furrowed above her softly crossed arms. She hated to see her sister as frustrated as she was. Work had to be taking its toll on her, and with some of the non-surges tasked with raising the children, it was no wonder why the fawn had felt so singled out.
"Narratha," Nackia said. "We have enough women who can take care of the girls. You're not the only one who we need to pick fruits in the forest. Alasha and Hennia are also out there." It was a half-hearted attempt at bridging the gap between them. In her mind, she knew that Narratha was right.
Her lack of powers limited what she was able to do for the children, but her fit frame allowed for other tasks to be completed. Unfortunately, doing so only made her feel more like an outsider.
Narratha shook her head as she rolled her eyes at her. She looked disgusted to even hear such a thing. "You're missing the point." Her stare turned to the other surges. "You all are. Alasha and Hennia still get to train our youngest. They get to be a part of their lives. I understand that I can't conjure up energy like them, but that is not my fault! I did not ask to be born like this!"
Nackia could hear the sadness creeping up in her older sister's voice. She stepped forward but shrank as she did not know exactly how to approach it. "Narratha, please, just understand that…"
"Understand what, Nackia? Huh?" She held her arms out. "What is there to understand? That I am only good for manual labor? That most of these young fawns do not even know who I am, because whenever I go to help them, the elders or you surges wish to separate us. Olisha says that I am 'interfering with their learning.' None of you stand up for me! Am I not part of this commune? Am I not a sister to you all?"
"Narratha," Nackia sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to find ways to get you involved, but –"
"No, Nackia!" She cut her off. "Don't, okay? I'll go over to the forest, and I'll pick these damn fruits. I'll do it because I wish to do whatever I can to help our community. And when you eat them, I want you to remember that it is I who picked them. Clearly, you have forgotten that it is also I who raised you alongside mother. I looked after you when she was working. I made sure that you got more food than I did because you were younger, and you needed to grow. Even when mother died, I never stopped, did I not?"
Nackia bowed her head. "No, you didn't."
"Because that's what sisters do," Narratha said no more as she turned around and began her walk toward the forest that she had become so familiar with over the years. The rise of her chest mirrored the rhythm of her steps – fast and sharp.
She heard nothing as she placed distance between herself and the other fawns. Not a single sound. If any of them had chosen to stick around, it would not convince her that they cared.
Narratha sat on top of a fallen tree next to the small stream that trickled along the ground. This tiny clearing had turned into a preferred area for her to unwind and let out her thoughts. It was obscured from the view of others, but not too far from the edge of the forest to prevent her from getting lost.
With a handful of pebbles in her palm, she carefully took the time to skip them along the water as it traveled down the hillside. It was the only thing that kept her tears at bay, but as the number of tiny rocks winded down, Narratha found herself beginning to slip into the throes of her sadness.
When the final rock was all she had, the redhead's nose pinched, along with her brow. A slow sniffle and a low gasp of breath signaled the start of her quiet sobbing. A few stray tears fell from her freckled cheeks and onto the dirt below her. She gazed at the basket of fruits by her side, feeling the distress swelling in her heart the longer she looked at it.
"None of you care." She threw the rock as far as it could go. The small stone collided against the trunks of the trees, clacking around as it recoiled away. She hung her head and brought her hands up to her bushy hair. "I feel like nothing and nobody even cares."
After about a minute of stewing in her troubles, Narratha turned her head up to the sky and looked toward the heavens for the answer that she sought. "I know you're watching us, mother. I see the birds in the sky every day. Please, please, see that I am not well!"
Her voice broke as more tears streamed out from the bottoms of her eyes, "I'm starting to give up. I hate myself and I feel like I don't belong here. Nackia isn't the sister that I remember. I'm supposed to be the one she looks up to, but now that she's a surge, what does that leave me? Where are my powers? Why am I this…hideous thing?"
Her crying grew louder as she covered her mouth to cradle her sorrows. "I miss you so much! Every day, I wish I had my mother. I am so weak and afraid. Please, whoever is listening to me, can I just have one thing in this world that will restore my hope? I do not ask for much. I wish to remain humble, but…"
Narratha wiped her eyes. "I don't know what to do. Help me."
The forest remained as silent as the fawns she placed at her back. Narratha's will to change things only resulted in the silence being broken by her bouts of crying. It would be another ten minutes before she finally found the will to get up off that log and leave, but in doing so, she felt more broken than she had been before.
Even in a wilderness full of life – she was alone.
The walk down the hill was long, but it was one that she had grown used to. Narratha's habit of long and arduous tasks had gifted her with a curvier and fitter frame. Her thighs were wider than the rest of the fawns, extending to her rounded glutes and firm calves. She found some pride in the strength that she had, but saw it as something she had to earn for herself instead of being gifted with. It was a bittersweet turnout, as all she wanted was to be one of the others.
Between her hair color, array of freckles, and fuller figure – she hated how much she stood out.
She felt like a stranger in her own home. Life had not gone the way she wanted, but she still pressed on, hoping that one day, things would change. Hope was what carried her all this way, and she feared what would happen when she no longer had it.
Trekking down that hill, Narratha kept her eyes down on the bucket of fruit pressed against her chest. A couple more tears found their way into the collection, but she did not care. They would be dried up by the time she returned.
What did it matter?
She felt so empty and without purpose. Every day was the same as the one before. She would wake up, eat, work on whatever tasks she was given, and contend with having to watch the others around her live fulfilling lives. She hated crying in front of them. Those tears were reserved for the forest. Sometimes, on a gloomy morning, after a rainstorm, she felt connected to the trees.
The wet foliage acted as a mimic of her sadness. In a way, she felt as though she was one with it.
The only fawn in the brush, alone in her life of nothing.
As Narratha drew closer to the commune, she noticed a little girl sitting by the grass out of the corner of her eye. The tiny sparkles of blue that came out of her fingers showed an attempt at magic. Such was common for young surges. They always took it upon themselves to experiment with their powers whenever the adults were away.
Children often marveled at their gifts. It was a feeling that she had never known, but could imagine quite accurately. The young girl with dark brown hair was in the process of trying to move a small rock with her energy. The stone shuffled around before it abruptly took off and came skidding across the ground in front of Narratha's feet.
The redhead stopped in her tracks and exhaled a low sigh.
"I'm sorry!" The little girl shouted as she got up and ran over.
Narratha set down her basket and picked up the stone, feeling the warmth of the magic in her palm. "It's okay, child. Just…be careful."
"My apologies," the girl repeated. "I just learned how to control things today, and I don't think I am doing very good at it. Can you show me what I am doing wrong?"
Narratha closed her eyes as she gripped the stone in her hand. A deep inhale was what she mustered before her arms fell to her sides. "Sadly, I cannot. One of the surges may be able to help you, but not me."
"You're not a surge?"
Narratha clenched her lips. Her state of mind was so fragile that even a child's words could get to her. She paused as she kept her eyes shut, opening them a few seconds later as she reached down to pick up her basket. "No."
She handed her the stone back.
"But you look so strong!"
"Because I am an adult, little one." Narratha began to move forward, toward the commune. "Come, I will walk you back." The girl tagged along, joining her along the way.
"My name is Balia," she said. "What is yours?"
"Narratha."
"Do you have any children, dear Narratha?"
"No." The redhead curled her lip as she tightened her hold on the basket.
"How old are you?" Balia skipped around beside her in the most playful manner. Narratha kept her eyes ahead, though she took notice of the child's antics. She still had no clue as to why the kid even wanted to talk to her.
"Twenty-five."
"Guess how old I am!"
Narratha shot a fleeting glance her way. "Eight."
"Close!" Balia jumped up. "I'm seven, but, I will be eight in two months!"
"Happy Birthday…" Narratha lifted the basket higher onto her chest. The redhead carried a frown along her face, even though she hated for the child to have to see it. Today had just been such a bad day that there was no easy way to wipe it off. She hoped that the girl would break away on her own and leave her in peace, but that did not seem to be what was going to happen.
"That basket looks heavy," Balia remarked as she pointed to it.
"It is."
"My mother is a surge, you know?"
"That's great…"
"She's not as strong as you," the girl said. "Without her powers, she could never carry that thing."
Narratha looked down at the collection of large and small fruits that she had acquired from the forest. The weight of them all together was considerable, and the more she thought about Balia's words, the more she began to notice a tiny glimmer of pride in her strength. "I do this kind of work all the time. It gets easier after a while."
"All the other fawns look so frail, but you look like you could fight a dhin!"
The woman couldn't help but giggle. "I'll take that as a compliment, I guess."
"Oh, but it is!" Balia insisted, hopping up and down by Narratha's side as the two walked together. "Surge powers are fun, but it feels like cheating! I'd rather be able to do things on my own. I've seen you going back and forth all the time, carrying branches and baskets. I want to have legs like yours one day!"
Narratha looked at her again, raising her dark eyebrows as she did so. "Is that the truth?"
"Uh-huh!" She nodded.
"Hmm…" Narratha rolled her head before she suddenly stopped and set the basket down. The redhead crouched beside it, picking up one of the fruits and holding it in front of Balia. "After a hard day of working, I like to gorge myself on these. There are so many nutrients in them. It keeps me healthy and strong. Do you wish to have one?"
Balia clapped her hands without hesitation. "Yes! I am most hungry!"
Narratha smiled as she offered her the fruit, taking one for herself right after. As the two stood there eating, the redhead turned an eye toward the child. "How is it?"
"It is great!" Balia smiled. "My mother never brings these over."
"Well, I get them quite often. If you ever want one, you can just go find me and take what you want."
"Thank you, dear Narratha! May I ask: do you have a sister?"
"Nackia," she answered. "The only other fawn with hair like mine."
"Oh, I've met Nackia before! She teaches the young surges stuff about our powers. She's very nice, but, she spends most of her time teaching this one fawn, Lia. Have you met Lia?"
"I know of her," Narratha mentioned. "She's a little older than you, but her powers are there. Nackia talks about her often. Gifted, she is."
"Lia is," Balia said. "She's so nice, but she hardly spends time with the others, as do I. I get along with the other kids, but I like our teachers more. I cannot wait to grow up!"
"Ah," Narratha responded with a short laugh. "Enjoy your childhood, little one. Life moves faster than a ginyol. You'll be an adult before you know it."
"Do you wish to be a mother? I think you'd be an awesome mother!"
Narratha's heart melted with a warm feeling that came over it. "Thank you, Balia. Maybe someday I will get to become a mother. I would love nothing more than to have a child of my own. That has always been a dream of mine. Until then, I am still young, and I have work to do."
"Well, have one soon!" Balia smiled. "If I don't end up getting a sister, then hopefully she can be my friend too!"
Narratha was already mid-bite when Balia made that comment. The fawn giggled so hard that she had to remove the fruit from her mouth. Her cheeks and chin were smeared in juice, which she wiped away in the middle of her enjoyment. "I wish I could, dear child."
"I know…" Balia gently kicked her foot across the grass. "Hey, would you mind showing me some of the things that you do to get strong? The surges don't teach any of that and I want to learn. I know you're busy, but whenever you are available, could you please?"
"Oh…" Narratha was stunned. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. "Do you really mean that? I mean, I'm not anything special. You could surely learn from someone else. I –"
Balia cupped her hands together and begged the redhead, "Please! It would mean a lot!"
With a wide smile brimming along her face, Narratha reached out and patted the girl's head. "Of course, child. I will teach you."
"Yay!" Balia went in to hug her. "I cannot wait! I'm going to be big and strong! I'll lift trees and rocks with my own hands! Thank you so much, Narratha!"
Returning the gesture, the redhead hugged her back as she tossed her fruit to the side. In all her days of yearning for purpose, she had never expected it to come this way. The feeling of happiness in her heart was immeasurable. It seemed like for once; someone had answered her call.
Three Months Later
"Like this…" Narratha said as she held the tiny stone out in front of her. Aiming at the stream of water in front of them, the redhead cocked her arm across her body before she hurled it forward. The pebble struck the water, skipping along multiple times until it finally submerged.
Balia was ecstatic to see the act, and the energy she exuded when she asked for another go was absolutely adorable to the woman beside her. Narratha handed her another pebble and prepped her for the throw. She adjusted the girl's arms accordingly, pointing to the angle at which she would have to let go.
"Release it when your hand crosses this spot," she instructed. "Flick your wrist as you throw."
Balia gave it her best shot. The stone expelled from her hand and struck the water, bouncing across as it traveled further down. The child's squeals of joy ignited the entire forest. Birds flew from their trees. The wind came bustling through the bushes, breathing warm air across their cheeks.
"I did it!" Balia shouted, happy as ever.
"You did!" Narratha cheered her on as she clapped her hands.
Balia hopped into her arms and hugged her. "Thanks for teaching me, Narratha! You're the best fawn ever!"
The redhead's expression froze as she took in what was happening. Her arms tightened around Balia's shoulders, pulling her close and not wanting to let go. She smiled as she tucked her chin. A tiny sniffle caught the child's attention.
"Are you okay?" Balia asked.
"Yes." Narratha could not evade the choke in her sentence. She breathed a little more as she kept Balia in her arms.
"You sound like you're crying." The girl became concerned. "I don't want you to be sad."
"I'm not sad." Narratha lowered herself onto her knees and rested her chin atop the girl's dark hair. "I'm just having a really good day, that's all. Sometimes, being happy can make you cry." She pinched her eyes when she was certain that Balia would not see them. Tears drained down her face, absorbed by her bushy hair that hung down its sides. She tried her best to keep the corners of her mouth from pulling apart, but her emotions held the upper hand.
"I just don't like seeing people cry," Balia remarked. "Especially my friends. You're like the big sister that I always wanted."
"I am?" Narratha opened her eyes and gazed at the forest ahead. The dense trees appeared limitless at this moment. It was like she was in another world – away from the one where she had felt so terribly alone and lost.
"Yeah! Today has been so much fun! I don't want it to end!"
"Neither do I, young Balia. Neither do I."
Present Day
Narratha stood outside the doorway to the room where Falena and Leta had been. She had listened to the shouting and brutality that took place after her departure. Her chest rose and fell with heated breaths.
She clenched her bloody knuckles to stave off the tremors that were beginning to come back. It wasn't the anger that brought them on. They were due any time now. Figures it would be after all this aggravation, she thought.
Falena had quietly exited the room out the opposite way. The blonde knew to keep her sadness to herself as she left. Not a sob to be heard. Leta, on the other hand, could still be heard crying softly as she reeled from the ferocious actions that had been inflicted upon her.
As Narratha listened to the muffled cries of the frightened girl in her captivity, she decided to walk away and go somewhere else.
She knew that if she returned to that room – she would kill her.
NOTES:
Welcome back! Hope this lengthier chapter was enjoyable for you all!
Finally getting to see more of Locwitary, while Cassandra is still dealing with the massive amount of things hitting her at once. She wants to return home and save her siblings. She wants Leta to be safe. She wants Lia back. Our brunette is going through so much right now, but she is still fighting to stay on the right path.
As for Leta, life couldn't be more hellish. She's trapped with Falena and Narratha, and things are only getting worse. If she doesn't escape soon, it's likely that she will inadvertently join the long list of fawns that Narratha has killed.
The redhead is a monster in her actions, but are we to view her as worse off than Cassandra was? Both women, though on different sides of the field, share a common trait: they were once different people, who had their lives stolen from them – in one form or another.
They each have a duality and are far from soulless. Is Narratha worthy of forgiveness? Was Cassandra ever?
Either way, we haven't seen the last of Narratha, and Cassandra is about to find herself in the middle of something that she could have never imagined. The next chapter will be full of its own heartache, but it will begin Cassandra's path to redemption. Will she make it home?
The next chapter will release on September 2nd.
Follow this story on Archive of Our Own to check-out the newest art created for this chapter!
In the meantime, I wanted to announce that work on the Leon/Ashley story has also started! Readers of Fragmented Fears have already seen this, but for those who haven't, here is an extended plot synopsis:
"Saddler is dead. The island of nightmares is in flames. The sun shines over the glistening ocean.
In Leon's mind, the threat is over. Ashley clings to him as the jet ski propels them to salvation. After an intense night of fighting, it is time to stop and take a breath. Unfortunately, where one fight ends, another begins.
When an onslaught of blue windows opens up a tear in reality, the two survivors suddenly awake to find themselves in the middle of a dense forest. With the moisture of the ocean water still on their clothes, it becomes apparent that this isn't Valdelobos. This may not even be their world.
As soon as the questions start rolling in, they are met with a group of local people who reside in this vast wilderness. Led by a woman as beautiful as the crown of flowers on her head, these locals are equally as puzzled by the arrival of the two, but nonetheless, they wish to extend their hands and help them out. Tradition is not to be ignored.
With no other choice but to accept the help given to them, Leon and Ashley follow them back to their settlement, hoping that the answers they seek may come from these folk who are seemingly cut off from the rest of the world.
This world may appear to be tranquil, but something isn't right. There are predators lurking about in the forest. Leon and Ashley are no strangers to monsters, but sometimes, it isn't the monsters we have to worry about.
Ashley soon finds herself questioning the intent of those who claim to want to help her. As the number of strange and troubling events in this tiny settlement begins to climb, the question of whether or not they are safer there demands to be answered. This forest holds a dark secret, and the blood-red sun is a warning of what is to come. Will they find a way out of this forsaken place, or will their screams become nothing more than whistles in the long wind?
There are no viruses in this world – only nature.
And nature will eat you alive."
Blue fire? What is going on in these realms?
There is no official title or release date – yet, but work is being done in between my commitment to the Fragmented Series. It will be canon as a spin-off, so enjoy a glimpse into this new realm of a dark fairytale filled with ravenous uncertainty. I plan to release other spin-offs in the future featuring famous RE characters as well.
Thank you all for your dedication to everything that I've set my mind on. You all mean so much and with all the hours put into this writing and art, your happiness makes it all worth it. I hope everyone has been doing well and staying safe and healthy. Life's been good on my end, if not a little busy at some points. Trying to enjoy what remains of the summer, as well as which parts of it are tolerable at this rate lol.
Hope you all are having fun out there! I'll see you all again soon! 😊