I saw her then, the very heart of the conflagration. She walked among the flames like a ghostly shepherd, guiding them to her will. I looked into the eyes of death itself, and found not coldness there, but the blaze of a burning sun.
The Fall of Soranna
Author unknown
Zia
Past – 5 days before the catastrophe
It was that time again. The one children called night, elders called the hour of well-earned drinking, and Zia… for Zia, it was still work. On the horizon, only moments ago, Elias had appeared. The soothing warmth of Osyr's rays had faded, giving way to the cold, austere light of the grayish moon. Zia welcomed that chill with relief. There were some who swore Elias merely stole Osyr's light and leeched away its color, but she didn't believe it. Moonlight had something all its own.
She cursed under her breath, leaning over another trap. The fourth in a row. Again, empty. But this time it was worse. Something – and it certainly hadn't been a hare – must have triggered the snare. The wire was completely ruined, and the anchor it had been tied to looked as though it had simply melted into thin air.
"Pass me the wire."
Kaya muttered something in reply but obeyed. Behind Zia came the muffled sounds of footsteps as her friend rummaged through the packs by the Glider. As always, it took longer than it should. As though the memory of that bag's contents – small as it was – slipped from her head every single time.
Zia touched the soft, torn-up earth. Something had been here. Without doubt, a whole herd of boars. She frowned. What puzzled her was that none of them had eaten the snare. The boars of Wolfwood could chew through and digest just about anything. Once, she had seen with her own eyes one gnawing at the branch of a great oak. A few days later, the branch was gone. Apparently, it had enjoyed the taste.
So perhaps Wolfwood had no wolves – despite its name – but boars… boars it had in abundance. Huge, stubborn beasts with hides as tough as a tax collector's conscience. With her short yew bow, she could do little more than scratch them in places they couldn't reach themselves. But if they scared off her hares…
She gave a small nod of thanks when Kaya handed her the spool of steel wire. She unwound a length, then looped it around one of the wooden anchors – the one that had survived those damned boars. She hadn't expected to lose any of her traps, so she hadn't brought anything special with her. The Glider was a stubborn mule, but not a stupid one. It knew well enough when she packed more baggage than was necessary. And then it would take its revenge. A spiteful stumble, a sleepless night, sometimes a sudden halt. Neither pleading nor curses could move it.
"You weren't supposed to touch those snares today," Kaya complained, standing over her with hands on her hips. "We're supposed to be hunting deer."
"We are. In truth we're hunting anything at all. But since the snares are on the way… it can't hurt, can it?"
Once she had tied off the wire, Zia approached a plain, sturdy beech and wound the line around its trunk. To the Abyss with subtlety. If the boars wanted war, then war they would have. If need be, she would run snares through the whole forest. Every meter. If only to make sure that one of those swine finally got itself tangled and shoved its dull snout into the mud.
Vendrick would have wept to see her method. She had abandoned the classic loops – the kind that caught hares as they slipped their heads inside, never knowing it was their last move. Now it wasn't about the catch but about vengeance. She stretched three lines of wire, each at a different angle, each fastened to something else, until a chaotic, hostile web took shape. Dense, merciless, nearly invisible in the twilight. Less chance of a clean success, but a far greater reach. All it would take was a single careless hoof.
"Where's that deer?" Kaya muttered in a weary tone.
Zia shot her a glare as she rose from her knees. She brushed the leaves from her trousers, which in all that mud clung to the fabric as though trying to burrow into it.
"If I knew, I'd have shot it already," she growled. "Come on, whiner. Let's go find the deer."
She waved at the Glider who – being a surprisingly intelligent mule with an even nastier temper – brayed sulkily, as if to show solidarity with Kaya. But he followed anyway.
"You probably made it up," Kaya said with a crooked smile. "You spend too much time in this forest."
"I know what I saw. White as snow, I'm telling you."
Kaya stopped a step behind her. Her breath suddenly slowed, her eyes widening with unease.
"Maybe… maybe it was the Spirit of the Forest?"
"There's no such thing as the Spirit of the Forest, you dolt. It was an ordinary deer."
"If it was so ordinary, then why are you so stubborn about finding it?"
"Because it was white!" she said sharply. "How can a merchant's daughter ask such idiotic questions?"
"So what, it had… weird antlers or something?"
Zia smacked her forehead with the flat of her palm.
"It had ordinary antlers. But do you realize what a fortune Vendrick could make from that hide? Every noble girl in the city would want a handbag made out of it."
Kaya chuckled under her breath.
"And you think that'll be enough to make you an apprentice?"
"Enough?" Zia snorted. "That man has coins rattling in his head even when he sleeps. He'd sell his own mother for a treasure like that."
Kaya grumbled something that sounded like agreement and laced her fingers together, folding them behind her head in a careless gesture.
"You know… I could get you into business. Instead of all this bush-crawling of yours you could…"
Zia shot her a sharp, cutting look.
"Well, go on. I could what? Do something… girlish, is that it?"
"You know that's not what I meant," Kaya said, nudging her side with her hip. "Vendrick's just a brute, that's all. At my father's place you could actually prove yourself. Without constantly having to show you deserve your place."
"That's what you think. But the hunters' guild doesn't work like the merchants'. It's not about numbers on paper or pure profit. I need something to show for myself. Something tangible. A fine trophy to hang on the wall and brag about to the guests."
"Doesn't change the fact that Vendrick's a grumpy old miser," Kaya replied with a smirk. "Do you know how many times I've heard he only keeps you on because he's short on apprentices?"
"Let him talk," Zia said with a crooked smile. "Everyone knows how it really looks. Ever since Ben started limping, he only brings back what stumbles under his crooked legs. And Damien's leaving soon, so…"
"You'll be his last real student," Kaya finished, rolling her eyes. "That's no reason to be proud, Zia. You should give him a good kick in the ass."
"Every time I give someone a kick in the ass, you scold me for it."
"Because you never know when you're supposed to!"
Zia burst out laughing. She slung an arm around Kaya's shoulder and bumped her forehead lightly against her temple.
"Yesterday I broke Owen's nose," she whispered conspiratorially.
Kaya froze as if struck by lightning. She looked at Zia with a mix of disbelief and amusement.
"You… you savage!"
"He started it!" Zia shot back defensively, raising her hands.
"You always say that!"
"And you never believe me!"
Kaya blew air loudly through her nose.
"All right then. Tell me. What terrible injustice befell our fragile princess this time?"
"Well…" Zia muttered, suddenly less sure of herself. Only now did she realize she didn't really have much of a defense. "He… sat down next to me."
Kaya pressed her lips together, her eyes glinting with mischief. She already knew she'd won, but she didn't comment. Just nodded slowly.
"Go on."
"Well, we talked. A bit about this, a bit about that…"
"Details," Kaya growled.
Zia sighed heavily.
"He said, 'You know, my father says you still haven't found yourself a husband.'"
Kaya immediately put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.
"And… what did you say?"
Zia shrugged.
"Nothing."
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"I already told you. I broke his nose."
Kaya grabbed her face, cupping her cheeks in both hands and forcing her to meet her eyes. Zia tried to wriggle away, but there was no escape from that deathly serious gaze.
"After one sentence," she said icily, "you broke his nose. You didn't even answer him."
"You make it sound like it's my fault!" Zia frowned. "Who even starts a conversation like that?! 'Hey, sweetheart, you look lonely, maybe I'll be your savior?'" She snorted with scorn. "Buffoon."
Kaya leaned in even closer. Her finger – accusatory, unbearably firm – nearly jabbed Zia in the eye.
"You'll apologize to him!" she demanded. "And then… I don't know. Get a grip and start acting normal."
Zia bit her finger. Lightly, but enough to make her point.
"Kalam clapped when I told him about it," she shrugged. "And Owen? He'll get over it. Maybe he'll even learn to talk like a human being. Everybody wins."
Kaya let out a heavy sigh and sagged her full weight onto Zia's shoulder. Her voice suddenly turned soft, syrupy sweet to the point of nausea. Sickly, like honey thickened into medicine.
"And I think this is about something more…"
Zia rolled her eyes. She knew that tone far too well. She knew exactly where this was heading before Kaya even opened her mouth.
"There must be someone else," Kaya went on, eyes gleaming, like a pesky drone of a bee that couldn't be swatted away. "A boy with golden locks, brimming with life and-"
"Stop." Zia raised her hand. "Don't waste your breath. Unlike you, I don't clutter every thought with romance. You want honesty? Abram is interesting. Yes, I like spending time with him. By the Nine, far more than with you, you ulcer. But imagine that – he's simply not boring. That's all."
Kaya started nodding vigorously, triumphantly, as though she'd just solved the greatest riddle of the world.
"Of course!" she said with mock solemnity. "Because letting yourself get close to someone would be the ultimate blow to your sacred pride!"
"It's not about that," Zia muttered, lowering her gaze. "I have my training. He has his training. We both understand that perfectly. No pressure, no expectations. Really, Kaya. Sometimes I wonder how you can live like that. You talk about romance like a giggling teenager – and then you preen for that idiot like a riled-up kitten. Paradox."
"He's not that bad," Kaya grumbled.
"Not that bad?" Zia snorted. "Who are you trying to fool, me, or yourself? Every time I see Matt, he's training. But not like someone who wants to grow stronger. He trains like a peacock. Just to fan his feathers and show off for the first girl who happens to walk by."
She scratched her nose. Mostly to buy herself a few seconds to decide if she should go on. But it was too late. The words burned inside her.
"What do you see in him, Kaya? Truly. You deserve better. Someone better. You're the daughter of a guildmaster, for crying out loud. And if things go as they should… you'll be a guildmaster yourself. You can't just… I don't know… wait? Give yourself a chance at something real?"
"You don't know Matt the way I do," Kaya said quietly.
"I wish I could believe you," Zia replied, but still with force. "But he's the kind who gets bored fast. And you're the kind who, when you cry, you can't stop for three weeks."
She slung an arm around her shoulders and leaned lower.
"You know what Abram was doing yesterday? He lay in the grass for hours just to study frogs mating. To understand how it worked. And the day before? He was sawing a piece of wood with another piece of wood, convinced he could start a fire that way. And before that? He was taking apart three spyglasses, because he'd gotten it into his head that he could build something to let him look at the stars up close."
Zia let out a heavy breath. Just saying it felt like an effort.
"And Matt? What was he doing then? We both know. Standing by that damned river where he always stands. Throwing out the same disgusting jokes as always. And boasting – again – about how he'll be some great hero one day."
Zia stopped abruptly. She flung an arm out in front of Kaya, blocking her path.
"Stop."
Without a word she reached for the short knife strapped to her thigh. She lowered her stance, bent her knees, and slid smoothly closer to the ground.
On a fallen log, almost invisible among bark and leaves, lay a grass snake. Motionless. Only its gleaming skin betrayed that it was still breathing.
Zia drove the blade into its skull in a flash. She hissed through her teeth as the knife sank deeper than she had intended. She pulled the weapon free, carefully wiped the tip with a bloodied cloth, and inspected the edge. Not dulled. At least not visibly.
She grabbed the carcass by the tail and walked over to the Glider. She strapped the snake's body to its side, muttering under her breath.
"At least Mistress Umett's pigs will have dinner."
She turned back to Kaya, ready for another round of snide remarks, but something stopped her. Kaya stood unmoving. Too still. Zia leaned closer.
No response. Only her head turned aside and glassy eyes that could no longer look straight ahead.
"Zia…" Kaya began, her voice trembling.
Zia froze at once. One note was enough to understand that something had changed.
Kaya slowly turned to face her. Her eyes were brimming with tears, yet her voice was surprisingly steady.
"I have to do it," she said softly. "My father… will lose his place in the guild if I don't marry Matt."
Zia felt something heavy settle in her throat.
"What?"
Kaya wiped her face with a quick, careless sweep of her hand. Too nervous to be effective.
"We… we've lost so much, Zia. My father… he bought a hundred barrels of Vardun wine, remember? Said it was an investment for years to come. Because wine always sells. Three caravans from New Soranna all the way to our flea-bitten village."
She sobbed softly. Barely audible.
Without a word, Zia reached out and wiped her face. Quiet, steady. Then she moved closer, leaving between them only enough space to breathe.
"They were robbed," Kaya whispered. "All three. Vanished without a trace. They should have reached Mudwick a month ago. My dad… he's not taking it well. I'm afraid to let him out of my sight. I begged Viola to talk to him, to sit with him, but… He's broken, Zia. I… I don't know what to do."
Zia wrapped her arms around her, pulled her close, pressed Kaya's head to her chest. She felt the tears soaking through her shirt, the trembling shoulders, the quiet spasms stripped of all dignity. Nothing left but raw, defenseless sorrow.
Zia didn't know what to say. Thoughts galloped through her mind like a herd of spooked horses, yet none would stop. She couldn't catch a single one.
"Can I say something potentially cruel?" she asked softly, hesitantly.
"Should you?"
Zia truly considered it, but found no answer. Still, she spoke.
"I stand by what I said. You shouldn't do it. You shouldn't give up your life just to…"
"Stop," Kaya cut her off. She looked straight into her face with startling strength. In her eyes burned a mix of anger and resolve – like fire lit in the heart of a storm. "Give up? Since childhood I've lived on what my father gave me. This isn't sacrifice. It's repayment."
Zia was silent for a moment before murmuring under her breath:
"I'll marry you instead."
"What?"
"Well, instead of Matt. I don't know. We'll think of something."
Kaya let out a short laugh through her tears. Quiet, brief, but genuine.
"We'll live in the forest?"
Zia shrugged, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
"See? You like it too. We'll set snares, catch a golden deer, sell its hide, and somehow it'll all work out."
Kaya exhaled in a long sigh, as though breathing out the weight itself. She lifted her head. Carefully wiped her face with her sleeve – properly this time – until the fabric dulled with damp. Then she shook her head hard, as if flinging something off her.
"All right!" she declared far too loudly, her voice full of forced vigor. "Let's find that deer. Or whatever."
And she strode ahead with sweeping steps, leaving Zia standing there with a silly expression and a smile that refused to leave her face.
Zia caught up with Kaya almost immediately, matching her pace.
"You shouldn't cry," she said. "They say tears attract derekans."
Of course, she'd made it up. She'd never heard of tears calling those beasts. Just a little emotional blackmail so she wouldn't have to see Kaya cry too often.
"Derekans?" Kaya repeated with amusement. "Out here in the wilds?"
"Haven't you heard? Someone mentioned it to me today five times, at least. Apparently one settled around here. They say the empire's sending a battle magess to deal with it."
Kaya winced slightly.
"You've got that bow of yours, you can hunt it down." She shrugged. "Klimek would probably love another head from one of those ugly creatures."
Zia shot her a skeptical look, then glanced at the bow slung over her back.
"With this? Do you even know what a derekan looks like?"
"Of course. There's one nailed above the door of the Nagging Wife, isn't there? Klimek always tells the story of fighting it like he's some hero out of a ballad."
Zia burst out laughing. Loud, genuine, feeling all the tension drain from her. Then she looked at Kaya with a warm, caring spark in her eyes.
"Kay… that one was just a baby. Look" she pointed above the crown of an oak rising over them. "If a full-grown derekan were standing here, instead of the moon, you'd be looking at its head."
Kaya furrowed her brows and looked where Zia was pointing. Then she turned her gaze back to her.
"You're trying to scare me, aren't you?"
Zia shrugged with a mischievously innocent smile.
"Well, I lied about the tears. But a derekan really is roaming somewhere around here."
Kaya froze in place. Her arms dropped limply at her sides.
"What are we doing here?" she whispered, panic so sharp it was barely audible.
Zia sighed and tugged her by the arm.
"Stop whining. They sleep at night. And even if they don't, this forest is huge. They're as rare as white deer."
Kaya went pale as a sheet.
"You saw a white deer!" she shot back accusingly, pointing at her like a traitor.
"So now you believe me, do you?" Zia rolled her eyes. "Come on. Even if we did meet one right now, it probably wouldn't even notice us. It devours villages, not innocent, sweet girls."
For a moment she wanted to add, "maybe it'll marry you instead", but thank the gods, she held her tongue.
"I don't like this, Zia," Kaya whimpered. "I'm about to piss myself from fear."
"You know full well what I said about pissing on my hunting grounds," Zia muttered dryly, not even looking at her.
Kaya grumbled a little longer, but in the end she won her battle with her bladder.
The forest around them began to change. The dense legion of heavy oaks tangled with twisted beeches gave way to a thinner, clearer grove where only oaks dominated – straight and lofty, like sentinels spaced at equal intervals. The ground grew drier, softer, as though someone had laid out a carpet of needles and fallen leaves.
Zia drew deep breaths of air, savoring every nuance. The heavy note of earth, the rough scent of bark, the shadow of night's chill. Elias spilled silver beams through the crowns of the trees like a net of mist, casting an otherworldly filter over the woods. Somewhere in the distance, owls hooted, unseen, yet present everywhere, like the echo of a hidden choir. Twigs and undergrowth crunched faintly beneath their steps, as though swallowed by the soft breath of the earth itself. Here she was at home. No people, no crowds, no foolish chatter. Only nature – pure, untouched, as if civilization had not yet stretched out its sticky hand to reach this place.
"You'll wait here," she muttered to Kaya. "Keep the Glider entertained."
She slid the bow from her back and pulled the string from the loop at her belt. She wrapped it carefully, slowly. She loved that thrill of self-satisfaction when she did it smoothly and without thought – like a true huntress – but this time she wasn't about to tempt fate. The faint mark on her cheek from a few days ago still throbbed in memory: the hemp string had snapped on the draw and lashed her face like a whip. Afterward she'd had to explain to Vendrick that she'd fallen. He hadn't believed her. Of that she was sure.
She reached for the guard made of thick leather. Just plain straps, crossed to cover her chest. Once it had been part of a full breastplate, but… well, she couldn't imagine going hunting in something that could practically be called armor. She had cut it into pieces, keeping only the part that was actually useful to her.
She pulled the cord across her back and tied the front beneath her breasts. Theoretically unnecessary – her bow was short, it didn't demand much strength. It could be drawn with little effort, even while leaning forward. But out of habit and obsessive professionalism she always assumed the proper stance. Once – only once – she'd forgotten the guard. Nearly tore off her nipple. From that day on she never forgot again. Never. Easier to form a new habit than to get rid of an old one.
She wound the bottom loop of the bowstring around one end of the bow, hooking it to the grip. She muttered under her breath as she saw the knot loosening slightly. It would hold for today. She stretched the cord, fastened the upper end, then tugged it several times, testing the spring and balance of the tension.
She set her foot on the bow's shoulder and with one hand pulled the string, drawing it to the end. Of course she could have done it by hand – the bow was short, unassuming – but… well. Habits were habits. The body remembered before the mind had time to think.
She pulled her hood over her head. Her oh-so-unique red hair, which Kaya always admired and called "ruby," was a fine reason for envy among the girls of Mudwick… but in the forest? In the forest it was a flag: beware, predator.
She had no idea what the animals really thought of her. If they thought at all. But one thing she knew for certain: every time a creature of the woods laid eyes on her, it bolted in terror. Maybe it was the color, heralding blood. Or maybe… maybe she herself had already earned a reputation in this forest.
Zia smiled to herself. She thought that afterward she'd have to wash off this layer of arrogance before it had time to harden.
She crouched low, sliding forward on bent knees toward the feeding ground. Whether deer truly bedded down here, she had no idea. She hadn't seen one yet, but the tracks were clear, fresh, and plentiful. And while animals could be stupid, in one thing they surpassed humans without question – the art of surviving in the forest. One kill at a feeding ground was enough to ensure that not even the faintest trace of a hoofprint would appear there the next day. That was why Zia had to change her spot regularly.
She lifted her head above the low rise and looked toward the meadow. Her heart beat faster.
She hadn't been mistaken. A whole herd, and a fairly large one at that. At least ten visible from her vantage, and surely more hidden beyond the curve of the land. The rise partly blocked her view of the clearing, but she wasn't about to risk stepping out fully just yet.
She drew two arrows from the quiver swaying at her hip. She wasn't such a perfect archer that she believed she could land two clean shots. A motionless target didn't trouble her much – especially on such a windless night – but a second one? The second was pure chance. It came down to luck. And while it would be foolish to dismiss the chance outright, it would be just as foolish to count on a miracle.
She knelt on one knee, slowly nocking an arrow to the string, and closed her eyes for a moment. She offered a prayer to Haman. Or rather… something that only vaguely resembled a prayer.
Lord of the Hunt, let at least one of these arrows taste blood tonight in your glory. In return – send one into Matt's heart. Then we'll be square.
Haman wasn't the sentimental sort… right? And if she had just offended him… well. It wouldn't be the first time her sharp tongue had gotten her into trouble.
She straightened, holding the arrow just beneath her nose. She breathed in the familiar scent of linseed oil, the one she always used to soak the wood. Vendrick always mocked her for it. He used to say it was easier to make new arrows than to nurse old ones. But for her, it wasn't just about durability. With oil, the wood grew smoother, pleasant to the touch, like polished bone. And in flight it cut through the air with greater precision, as though it already knew its path before it was loosed. Zia cherished every advantage she could carve out for herself.
Her eyes fixed on the stag. A grown male, crown of antlers full and heavy – majestic, as though he bore his own statue upon his head. The elder males always reacted first. The calves merely followed them. If her second target was to be a young one, she would have to take down its guardian first.
Two deep breaths. Shoulders dropped loose, back straightened. Bowstring drawn to its limit.
She loosed the arrow.
It struck almost perfectly – the neck, though she had aimed for the skull. The dull crack of impact blended with the whistle of its flight. The herd shuddered, then rose as one in a single wave.
Zia didn't wait. Her fingers were already reaching for another arrow. She set it almost blindly, never taking her eyes from the clearing. A swift shift of angle. Judgment.
At the rear – a calf. Slow, drowsy. Maybe it had had a hard day, or maybe it simply hadn't yet learned the forest's signals. But it was far. Damnably far.
She loosed the arrow.
She watched. The red fletching vanished into the night's blackness. Only the faint shape, a blurred shadow amid deeper shadows.
It hit. Not perfectly – the hindquarters – but enough. The force of the strike knocked the animal onto its side. It didn't even manage a cry.
Zia was already running. Knife gleamed in her hand. Wind slammed into her face, whipped at her lips, pierced between her teeth. She couldn't keep the smile away.
The calf thrashed in desperation. Its hind legs beat the earth as though they no longer belonged to it. The bellow was rough, strangled, heavy with panic. In its eyes – wide, burning, stretched open to the point of pain – Zia saw pure, naked terror as she closed in, knife in hand.
With a single clean stroke she drove the blade into its neck. Precise, angled so as not to splash herself with blood. The animal slackened, sagged onto its side, but still fought. Its body shook with spasms, its throat choked with blood spilling into bubbling moans. The metallic stench hit her nostrils.
Zia drew the knife out slowly. Then thrust it in again, a little higher. After a moment, only faint postmortem tremors remained.
She grabbed the calf by its hooves and began dragging it through the grass toward her first kill. Tired muscles strained under the weight, but she didn't stop.
She placed the two bodies side by side. Leaned over the stag and, with a single, simple thrust, pierced its neck. A stream of blood trickled into the grass. Wolfwood didn't have many dangerous predators, but some did exist. And a few could catch the scent of fresh blood from a kilometer away.
Zia left behind a dark crimson puddle as a false trail, then gave a long whistle. The Glider would probably fuss for a while before setting his first hoof forward, but in the end he would graciously come.
She pulled out her arrows and inspected them carefully. Their heads were thin, mostly flint, but these had survived. Only recently had she learned to craft barbed versions – widening to the thickness of a finger at the very end. They were a nightmare to pull out, true, but they slid into hide like butter. Once she had even used arrows without heads – nothing but sharpened sticks – but too often the tips had simply glanced off the fur instead of biting into it. Now she knew she would never go back to that practice. Each arrowhead was extra work, yes, but work that saved the kill.
At last Kaya emerged from the trees, dragging the Glider behind her. He resisted with obvious stubbornness. The mule loved to play the part of a spoiled nobleman. If he had truly wanted to defy them, he would have torn free of the tether and bolted into the distance, leaving them both behind. But alas, he was Kalam's mule. And he had clearly inherited the old man's temperament.
"Not bad," Kaya remarked, stopping over the kills and looking down with reluctant admiration. "Vendrick might even give you a hug."
Zia scratched the back of her head.
"One's for Klimek. I smashed his table."
Kaya let out a loud sigh and tilted her face skyward, releasing a sound full of existential exhaustion.
"When did that happen again?"
"Remember when I told you I busted Owen's nose?"
Kaya nodded slowly, as if she already knew where the story was heading.
"Well… then I threw him on it. Those tables must be made of shit, not wood!"
"That's enough," Kaya said in a drained voice, pulling her collar up to her chin. "Let's pack it up. I'm getting cold."
Zia pulled lengths of cloth from the baggage and began wrapping them around the animals' wounds. Something Vendrick never missed a chance to nag her about. "Bandaging corpses? You should be a saint, girl!" She didn't even feel like explaining. And certainly not that she did it for Kaya – so they wouldn't leave bloody trails across the grass.
Because yes, she had given Kaya a very poor, very rushed lesson in climbing before taking her on a hunt for the first time. And while Kaya – true to form – treated it like a penmanship exercise, not from passion but from obligation, Zia was almost certain: if any real danger showed up, Kaya would fly to the treetop and cling to a single leaf like a frightened squirrel.
Aside from that, she also had her secret weapon – a little sphere with an ignition weave. Cost her a fucking fortune. But that was the price Zia paid for the oh-so-delightful company of eternally grumbling Kaya on her hunts. At least the Glider seemed to talk less around her.
The fellow who sold it to her had a decent enough reputation. She didn't believe he'd meant to cheat her. He had even warned her that the weave wasn't permanent. Just a few more months and the orb – the one that had cost so much Zia dreamed of coins for a week straight – would turn useless.
That was why Zia secretly wished she really would stumble upon a bear. Just like that. Just to see how the damned trick worked.
The question was: what to do with the spoils now?
The simplest? Hand the bigger stag over to Vendrick. After all, he was the one who kept her supplied, who paid for arrowheads, for oils, for a new bowstring when the old one frayed. By Madness, for the antlers alone she could probably squeeze a whole set of new strings out of him. And maybe even an extra quiver. As for the rest? She didn't know exactly what she could wring from him, but she'd haggle until she was out of breath. Or out of voice.
Klimek would get the calf. Because honestly – it was worth more than that flimsy tabletop of his that had cracked the moment it made contact with a human body.
The problem was… she genuinely liked Klimek.
The Nagging Wife was always open to her, even when she'd accidentally started some tavern brawl. And Klimek himself wasn't the sort to run the place just for business. The old man truly lived for it. In the evenings he would tell stories, sometimes sit down at the customers' tables – hell, when he was in a really good mood, he'd even hand out free beer.
Mudwick without Klimek… wouldn't be Mudwick anymore. It would be just another forgotten hamlet at the end of the world.
She fastened both kills to the Glider's sides, shifting the weight back and forth until his nervous whinnying finally quieted to a disgruntled grumble. She patted his rump, combed her fingers through his mane, and reached into the saddle for an apple she'd hidden just for this occasion. This was the moment when the Glider turned truly unbearable. Without a little bribe, they could have been stuck here until morning.
At last they set out toward the road, breaking the silence only with the scuff of boots and the occasional sigh.
"How do you not get lost out here?" Kaya asked, glancing around. "It's nothing but trees."
"I know these trees," Zia muttered. "And if I go too far, I've got the stars. What do you think – how far are we from Mudwick?"
"I don't know. Five kilometers?"
Zia snorted with laughter, shaking her head. She pointed eastward.
"There's Bald Man's Ford. We've been hugging the edge of the forest this whole time."
Kaya shrugged.
"I've got no head for directions. When I walk, I just watch your feet – in case you trip over your own all-knowing wisdom."
"If we stumble across any notes or account books in this forest, maybe then you'll be useful for something," Zia shot back.
Kaya had already opened her mouth to answer, but the words never came.
Both froze in place.
An unearthly roar tore through the forest like the rending of the sky. A raw, bestial scream rolled among the trees, echoing through the thickets. Birds burst from the crowns in one vast legion, flapping skyward all at once, shattering the silence as though the whole forest had exploded into wings.
The roar was low. Deep. Too deep. So dreadful that Zia felt it in her chest, as though the sound had struck into her and stayed there, drumming endlessly like the echo inside an empty drum.
A derekan.
Her knees went weak. For a heartbeat her whole body seemed to disconnect. Kaya seized her hand – tight, panicked – digging her nails into her skin until it hurt. But she said nothing more. She stood frozen, paralyzed, as though time itself had halted around her, as though the air had hardened into glass through which no breath could pass.
"Zia," she rasped at last, her voice trembling with pure, helpless despair. "What… what was that?"
Zia didn't answer. She couldn't. Instead, she yanked Kaya by the hand and moved toward the dense cover of trees. Staying out in the open clearing would have been playing with death. Shelter meant a chance. Even the Glider surged forward with sudden force, as if some buried memory of a royal steed had awakened in his bones.
Zia tried to steady her breathing, but her lungs wouldn't obey. Neither would her words. Damn it. Of course she was terrified. Any sane person would be. But Kaya could slip into panic at any moment, bolt blindly, scream… and then everything would be lost. Zia had to pretend to be in control. If only on the surface. If only in Kaya's eyes.
She kept glancing toward the depths of the forest, but saw nothing. Only blackness. Thick, trembling with silence. They moved quickly, skirting the edge of a run, listening only to the ragged breaths torn apart by fear.
And then Zia heard… something. A crack. No – cracks. At first single, like someone breaking old branches, but then continuous. Deep. Resounding. Like a distant storm. Not the kind that promised rain. The kind that hurled lightning as though it meant to end the world.
She swallowed hard. And then it struck her what those sounds were.
Trees.
"Run!" she shouted to Kaya.
She didn't need to repeat it. Their joined hands jolted and they were already running. Zia had to slow every few steps to let Kaya keep pace. Her legs were shorter, and there was too much fear in her eyes to truly see where she was going.
The pounding rose into Zia's temples, then into her shoulders, hips, thighs. Moments later her whole body was shaking. And behind them… the sounds of splitting wood. Trunks crashing down with deafening force, closer and closer, louder and louder. As if the forest itself was dying just behind them.
And then came another roar.
Both screamed at once. Zia felt she had to look. Had to see what was chasing them.
She turned.
The derekan burst onto the clearing.
The monster charged straight at them. A colossus, no less than thirty meters tall, half as wide.
The derekan looked like a spring wound tight with flesh and fury. Its humanoid frame gave the impression of a hunched giant that didn't so much run as hurl itself forward, tearing up earth and shattering forest by sheer momentum.
It had four arms, each as thick as oak trunks, sweeping across the clearing like a beast rolling on its own muscles. Its feet seemed little more than an afterthought – a useless relic of anatomy.
Its maw – long, stretched like that of a wolf – was anything but animal. It was a grotesque mask, as though evolution had stalled halfway between predator and nightmare. The gaping jaws revealed dagger-sharp teeth, with two massive lower fangs jutting straight upward like towers.
The jaws looked as though they grew directly from the bone – or rather from the absence of flesh. The skull was bare, almost completely stripped of tissue, with a sickly glow seeping out beneath the bone. On either side jutted two twisted horns, goat-like but far heavier, black and matte, spiraling back.
Talons – for fingers they were not – sprang straight from its hands. Four curved blades on each upper limb, as though nature had abandoned all pretense of subtlety and forged weapons, not hands.
And those eyes.
Two vast, dead, utterly white points, fixed solely on them. They didn't wander. They didn't search. They saw only them. Kaya and Zia. As if the entire world had vanished beyond their shapes.
"Holy Mother! We're going to die here!"
Zia felt as though Kaya had torn the thought straight from her head. She wanted to scream it too. But instead she ran. And ran. No plan, no direction. A dark fog of fear smothered everything that had made sense only moments ago. All that remained was blind, frantic instinct to survive.
After a while she began to hear a hiss. A loud, metallic hiss – stretched and unnatural. She had no idea what caused it. Maybe some inhuman sound spilling from the derekan. Maybe simply the air being torn apart by its charge.
The pounding of its colossal limbs drew closer without mercy. Each step was a quake, as though the earth itself was trying to shake free of its presence. The forest was no longer a forest, but a trembling shell, a thin crust about to crack.
The hiss shifted into a screech. Metallic, like iron clawing against stone, yet coming from nowhere. Everywhere. As if it spread inside her, not around her. Or perhaps only inside her head.
And then Kaya stumbled. Fell, rolling across the ground – and Zia right after her. Not because she had lost her balance. Because she simply gave in.
This was the end. There was no need to see the derekan. Its guttural, animal breath thundered just above them. The tremors ceased.
The beast had caught them.
The sound did not stop. It was no longer a screech – it was a song. One long, drawn-out note, so high it seemed it might tear the very air to shreds. It cut through everything. Smothered breath, heartbeat, the world.
Kaya buried her face against Zia's arm, trembling in mute sobs. Zia lifted her eyes.
The derekan wasn't looking at them. It was looking up.
Zia looked too.
The world froze.
Beneath the heavens, with Elias's gray silhouette in the background, a figure hung suspended. No – levitating. Motionless, cloak billowing, hair so long it nearly reached her knees. She was too far, blurred by the tears in Zia's eyes. But Zia knew one thing – the sound came from her.
She tugged at Kaya, unable to force a word past her lips. Quietly, desperately. To prove to herself she hadn't gone mad. Her friend lay pressed against her stomach, eyes clamped shut as if she could seal the world out.
The figure raised a hand. Outstretched.
Two fingers pointed at the derekan. And at their tips… a sphere. Tiny, almost invisible, a speck against the sky, a star plucked from the firmament. Yet it burned with such intensity that Zia had to squint to look at it.
And it was that – that sphere of blue light – that sang.
The derekan reared up, standing on its hind limbs. Zia stared, mouth agape, as the beast blotted out everything in her field of vision – as if a mountain had ripped itself from the ground right before her eyes. Nothing remained but him.
The monster roared, jaws flaring toward the levitating figure, yet the sound came muffled, barely piercing through the all-encompassing melody of the sphere. The air itself refused to carry its voice.
Then everything fell silent.
In a single, perfect instant the sphere became a beam – thin, radiant, impossibly swift. It wasn't a flash. It wasn't a shot. It was a needle of light that sliced through the air so quietly Zia wasn't even sure anything had truly happened.
The derekan's roar froze. Its head exploded – like a bowl struck with a hammer – fragments raining down onto the trees with a hiss, splattering across the leaves. A fountain of blood burst skyward, drenching Zia in reeking, sticky filth. In a heartbeat the upper half of the beast's skull was gone, its brain dissolving into an oily sludge that dribbled between its fangs.
The beam didn't halt, didn't slow. It carved through the monster's maw, then the forest canopy, and further still – across the sky, disappearing into the horizon, as though nothing in the world could stop it.
The creature's body staggered, then collapsed heavily onto its back. The impact was an earthquake. Grass rippled like a wave. Dust swallowed everything. The world seemed to hold its breath for a moment. And in that brief silence came only Kaya's broken, uneven gasps.
Zia gulped at the air in ragged heaves, realizing only now that her lungs were begging for breath. But she couldn't move. Her hands still shook Kaya, who seemed to be waiting for death at the monster's claws. Zia's eyes never left the levitating figure, now descending slowly toward the ground before them. Her throat gave no sound, her whole body trembled, and her heart hammered like mad.
"Kaya. Kaya," she whispered with effort. "Look. Look."
Her friend flinched at the sound of her voice and slowly lifted her head. First she looked at the sprawled body of the derekan – from this angle they saw only its feet, massive as wagons – and then higher. To where the figure was descending gently toward the earth, her head tilted, gazing down at them.
Impossible.
Zia knew that face. That hair – she had always imagined it black, heavy as night – but now, in the light of Elias, it was gold. Bright, blazing, wrapping her in a luminous halo. Her eyes shone the purest green, as though nature itself had tried to fashion a shade more perfect than a summer leaf. She was slender, but not starved. Her body held a taut strength, carved by discipline and power. A face without a trace of softness. Precise. Refined. As if someone had sculpted her from marble and then breathed life into her.
She was breathtakingly beautiful. So beautiful that Zia's heart forgot how to beat for a moment.
She wasn't tall – certainly no taller than Zia herself – yet when Zia looked at her, she felt like a child. Like dust. Like something insignificant in her presence.
It was Iris.
Iris, the Daughter of Flame, the Emperor's Archmagess. But… alive.