Page 17 of Daughter of Shadows and Ash

Could I become a blade for hire? My stomach churned at the thought, but survival had a way of reshaping morals into mere suggestions. A hollow ache in my belly reminded me of more pressing concerns. I hadn't seen any signs of deer since the woods near the last city, and between here and Sunneva, nothing but war-ravaged territory. My coin purse was meager—I couldmaybe afford some bread whenever I found the next trader, but I'd have to find a way to earn more after.

The stars only twinkled mockingly at my perpetual state of being lost. I was always lost.

Another pang of hunger twisted my insides. I drew my bow, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of a small animal I could roast. I didn't dare travel beyond the path. My inner compass spun wildly, and I feared straying from the path would leave me truly adrift. A slight rustling caught my attention. I crouched, pulling shadows to me as I crept towards the bush when a squirrel popped out. It wasn't a deer, but it'd do.

The squirrel fell to my arrow, and I built a small fire near the path. The trail remained visible, a lifeline I dared not abandon in search of water. I made short work of cooking the meat and said a small prayer, thankful to not starve tonight. I watched the flames dance, sparks rising when the wood crackled. Suddenly, the gentle flames transformed into a searing inferno, devouring my village in my mind's eye. I winced, never again. I wouldn't release that destruction ever again.

I laid beneath the stars, with only the warmth of the fire to comfort me. Memories of Maël flooded my thoughts, bittersweet and piercing. What would he think of the path I now walked? Would he understand my need to rid the world of such evil? Would he still want me if he knew I was considering becoming an assassin? Part of me wanted to believe he would, saying something about living honorably. But deep down, I knew different—when he proposed, he would have moved heaven and hell for us, despite my doubts about our chances. He would've understood doing something bad with good intentions, and he would've been excited for an adventure. I twirled the silver ring around my finger. Perhaps embracing this new path, this adventure, wasn't such a terrible idea—at least until I could reunite with my people.

Chapter 12

Cursing under my breath, I hauled my freshly killed buck behind me, my boots struggling for purchase with each labored step. The carcass dragged at my aching muscles as the metallic scent of blood filled the air. Sweat trickled down my spine, dark strands of hair plastered to my face as I forced myself onward.

After days of searching for civilization, my heart sank at the sight of the town before me. Fear and exhaustion coiled in my gut, like a serpent waiting to strike.

Sunneva's forces had clearly claimed this town as their own. The buildings near the entrance lay broken, reduced to mounds of splintered wood and shattered stone. Wooden spikes jutted from the walls like teeth, each one a trophy of Sunneva's conquest.

The Sunnevan guards at the gate barely spared a glance at me and my quarry.

You needed to bag a large one to have a chance to get the supplies you need,Maël murmured in my mind.

My heart stuttered, a mixture of comfort and pain washing over me at the sound of his voice.

I grunt, struggling to breathe as I continued to drag the large beast.I should've listened to you more when we were training.

You're doing fine, just a few more steps, Lor.His presence faded like mist at dawn, retreating to that dark corner of my mind where my sanity comes into question. The loss of his voice, whether real or imagined, left an ache in my chest.

I approached the blacksmith's forge, my gaze lingered on the arrows on display. These arrows put my old ones to shame. My chest tightened at the thought and I shove the feeling away. No use dwelling on memories of home, especially not over arrows.

The blacksmith looked up from the sword he was hammering on the anvil. The burly man's eyes widened as they landed on the buck I'd dragged behind me. The muscles in his arms tensed as he paused his work, sweat gleaming on his brow.

"That's quite the kill you've got there, miss," he said, setting the iron weapon down and wiping his hands on a grimy rag.

I nodded, fighting to keep my expression neutral despite my exhaustion. My fingers flexed against the rope, refusing to show weakness.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling like distant thunder.

"I'd say so. You looking to trade?"

"Arrows," I said, jerking my chin toward the display. "And I need my bow repaired."

The blacksmith's gaze sharpened, sizing me up like a weapon he meant to forge.

"Let's see that bow of yours, then."

I carefully unstrapped it from my back, mindful to keep my cloak in place. The less attention I drew, the better. The bow barely held through this last hunt—its string frayed and the wood chipped and worn.

He took it, turning it over in his calloused hands. "This has seen better days. But it's good craftsmanship. I can fix it up for you."

I nodded, my eyes drawn inexorably to the arrows again.

"Depends on how many you want," he said, following my gaze. "That buck of yours could fetch a fair amount."

I stepped closer, keeping my voice low. "How about we make a deal? The meat for the arrows and the bow repair."

The blacksmith's eyebrows shot up. "That's quite the offer, miss, but it's too much. I'll replace your bow and fill your quiver. Deal?"

"Deal," I said, my violet eyes meeting his. I could see the curiosity there, the questions he yearned to ask but wouldn't.

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