Meyja stared at Aron who remained standing in the doorway and looked back and forth between her and Eralion in bewilderment.
"Eralion? You?” he asked in disbelief, then he turned his gaze to Meyja.
He had changed in the past two years, his black hair was no longer shoulder length, but a little shorter and stood out wildly from his head. He had shaved his beard completely. His clothes were also clean and tidy, not even his boots were dirty, although that hadn't always bothered him before.
"So, you're going to fuck him now, yes?" Aron asked and without taking his eyes off her, pointed his finger at Eralion.
"You’re alive?" whispered Meyja.
"Of course, I'm alive! Didn't you get my message?" Aron replied confused.
"What message?" Meyja asked back.
"I wrote you a letter, Meyja. It said I had to be away for a long time and couldn't tell you personally. Also, where to find me and that you should come over so we can get married there,” he explained, his eyes filling with tears as she shook her head.
Meyja also had to blink a few times before she blurted out, “We were looking for you, Aron! For a year! We turned the whole fucking city upside down! I thought you were dead! I mourned you!”
Without realising it after a few words she had started screaming. She fell to the floor crying, clutching the stab wound on her side which had bled through the bandage, and turned the fabric of her light-coloured shirt red.
Eralion helped her up and carefully placed her back in the chair.
"You better go now, Aron," he said quietly over his shoulder.
But Aron didn't even think about it, instead slamming the door shut before following him. "Don't tell me what I have to do in my own flat, you rat!" he yelled outraged. "You cheat my life, take my wife, and now you just want to throw me out?!"
"I didn't cheat anything, Aron. You went and left her here alone. On the day of your wedding”, Eralion replied calmly and carefully pulled the shirt over the head of the still crying Meyja.
"Don't touch her!" Aron yelled and pushed him away from her just as he was about to check on the injury.
"Out. Both of you,” groaned Meyja who was tired of the whole situation.
The two men paused and Eralion still sitting on the floor asked in horror, "Are you serious?"
"I'm serious. Disappear; both of you. I can’t take this argument any longer. If you want to quarrel like children go out the door and spare me,” she demanded breathlessly.
Aron and Eralion looked at each other for a moment, then Aron asked, “What happened anyway? Why is she bleeding?”
“Because she was injured on an assignment yesterday, a stab wound. It was badly infected when I got here earlier,” Eralion replied standing up.
Aron knelt worried on the ground in front of Meyja and put his fingers on her bandage, but she pushed him back and growled, “Don't touch me. Nobody ever touches me again. And now get out of here.”
She pointed to the door and silently watched them both exit after some hesitation then checked on her wound herself. Even if she seemed strong when she threw them both out her guilty conscience weighed heavily on her shoulders like a mountain.
Now Aron had returned although she had firmly assumed that he was no longer alive. She felt great guilt towards him for not waiting for him. And also, to Eralion to whom she had never confessed her love.
Now there were two men in Sharaya who were equally interested in her. Eralion was the one she valued more as a friend than as a partner even if she cared for him. Aron, on the other hand, had her heart even after all the time he had left her alone. The moment their eyes met she realised she had come to a dead end. And this deep dichotomy called for a quick solution.
 
Aron and Eralion had stopped in the street and looked at each other, then Eralion asked, “Do you want to talk?"
Aron nodded still a little hostile but his desire for clarity was greater than that for revenge.
Together they sat down on the parapet of a well not far from the house entrance and were silent for a while before Eralion spoke.
"You wrote a message?" he began.
"I had. And I gave it to a messenger together with a heap of gold so that he would bring it to her immediately," answered Aron.
"We were all looking for you, you should have seen Ed. And Meyja, she was devastated. Everyone was worried about you but especially these two. After you left, she drowned her sorrow in alcohol and barely ate. She looked more like a dead woman than the woman you knew," Eralion reported.
"Until her proud saviour showed up," Aron shot him sarcastically.
"No, I've been with her for less than a year. And she was slow to let me in on her. She hadn't been able to get over your loss for a long time,” Eralion weakened the attack.
"I went because I had to. It was never my intention to just dump her. And I've waited a long time for her to finally get there. At some point, I assumed that she couldn't or didn't want to. But I hadn't expected in my dream that she didn't know anything and neither did the guild. I would have sent another letter but I wasn't allowed to. There was complete isolation from the outside world," Aron justified himself.
Eralion asked, "Where have you been anyway? And why did you have to go?"
"It was sort of a secret elite academy for the likes of us. However, I'm not allowed to reveal where their property is. Only Meyja should have known about it. An emissary now and then looks for recruits in Sharaya. He saw me, watched me, and decided I was worthy. After he told me about it, I wanted to see it. They train assassins who have promising abilities showing. After training, you are no longer a simple scoundrel, but a perfectly trained, absolutely deadly villain. Here at Ed, there is no opportunity for advancement, it is very difficult to think outside the box.”
“And I also talked about Meyja. Taelan, the emissary, found it extremely interesting and would have liked to take her with him but he couldn't wait any longer we had to leave immediately because he was recognized and the guards were hot on his heels. According to Taelan you only get one chance to go with him in a lifetime. Had I turned him down I would have been denied any other option. So, I agreed and he allowed me to leave a message for Meyja so she could catch up. That she never got it..." reported Aron, but then broke off covered his mouth with one hand and blinked away the tears that were already glistening in his eyes. 
Eralion said quietly, “You’re still my brother, Aron. And while Ed will be angry, he will welcome his prodigal son. Meyja is a different story. What you did to her with that... I realise now that you didn't mean to do this, but her trust in you is broken. She's suffered for so long, got better for a while, and now you've reopened healed wounds." 
"Does she love you?" Aron asked, although he was afraid of the answer. 
"She never told me but I think she does. It was a nice time we had together. And she even carried a child once if only briefly,” Eralion reported quietly. 
"What happened?" Aron was concerned. 
"She woke up one morning with blood all over her and it was on the bed between her legs. It's only been a few weeks since she told me I was going to be a father,” Eralion whispered wiping away a few tears. 
Aron couldn't take this leap of faith yet, even if he felt sorry for his long-time brother, he was only interested in Meyja at the moment so he asked, “How did she cope?" 
"She just accepted it like nothing happened. In retrospect I think she was even glad she didn't have to be a mother," Eralion said. 
Meyja's relief hadn't escaped his notice. He had also noticed that she hadn't seemed happy while she was carrying a child. 
They looked up when they heard footsteps and it was Meyja who approached with a bag over her shoulder and sat down on the parapet next to Eralion. 
She heard the last sentence and said, “I was really happy about it. I always knew I wouldn't make a good mother. I'm an assassin. So, there's no room for a child in my life.” She looked at Eralion apologetically. "I saw you both from the window and decided to talk to you." 
"How is your wound?" Aron asked. 
"Don't worry. I'm fine so far. Just a little blood, nothing more,” she explained. "What did the message say, Aron?" 
Aron repeated what he had already told Eralion and why he couldn't send another message and Meyja nodded silently even if none of that changed anything for her because the situation was the way it was. But she had made a decision that wasn't difficult for her and she now wanted to tell the two men so she got up and stood up straight in front of them. 
"You probably think now that I'm cut to the quick by what has happened in the last hour and I am. But I will not choose between you two. It would be unfair to you and also to myself because in a way I love you both. I'm going to leave right now, buy a horse, and leave Sharaya tonight because I've achieved everything there was to achieve here. I became the best of us all and famous without anyone knowing who I am. The Indomitable will be a legend to talk about from now on. I'm not the least bit proud of everything I've done. I want one of you tomorrow to let Ed know that I'm gone. If he wants revenge, let him send someone for me to kill. But if not, thank him on my behalf for everything he has done for me as I am very grateful to him and appreciate it all. I am also grateful to you – for the good time we spent together. It was the best years of my life so far. Who knows what's to come. I'll just see where the wind takes me and start a new life. Take care.” She finished with a smile before turning and walking down the alley towards the main street. 
The men looked at each other for a long time, stunned by the plan of the woman they both loved so much who now just wanted to go and leave them both behind. Finally, Aron got up, kicked against the stone border of the fountain, and mumbled something incomprehensible. 
"Aron, please calm down we can’t do anything about it," Eralion said calmly, the pain of the loss was deep and had hit him hard. 
But Aron shook his head, walked up to him, and whispered, “I won't give her up that easily. She's still here." 
Then he turned around and ran after Meyja, literally ran for his life, kept shouting her name. Deep down inside he couldn't and didn't want to accept her decision. 
When she heard Aron's quick footsteps behind her, she stopped, and faced him because she couldn't avoid the confrontation anyway. 
Aron stopped panting in front of her and asked, “Please can’t we talk to each other for a moment before you go?" 
She nodded calmly awaiting his words. 
He just looked at her for a few seconds before saying quietly, „Meyja, I never wanted to leave you, you have to believe me. I left expecting to see you again soon. Every single day that you weren't with me I missed you, waited for you, and looked out for you. I never understood why you didn't follow me. Now I know why and the fault wasn't yours – it was mine. I understand your pain and I deeply regret it. I also regret leaving more than any other wrong decision I've ever made. Still, I beg you give us one more chance. Please." He knelt down in front of her and looked at her desperately, tears glistening in his eyes. 
She also looked at him for a long time before she could think of the right words. 
"Look at me carefully, Aron, and then think of Eralion. What do you expect from me? That I continue where we both left off? How do you imagine that? If you want me to stay you must never leave me alone, ever,” she said quietly. 
Aron came closer standing right in front of her, he stroked her cheek lightly, and then kissed her gently on the mouth. 
Meyja closed her eyes and returned the kiss very cautiously. His lips felt alien, yet so familiar that it stung her painfully. 
"I'll never leave you alone again I swear," he whispered in a pleading voice. 
She could feel his breath caressing her skin then she opened her eyes and looked at him for a moment before stepping backwards and saying quietly, “You've already left me alone, Aron. For two years. I'm not the woman you know anymore. Deep in your heart you've known that for a long time. And you are also aware that this life you want to share with me no longer exists. It is only a distant dream.” 
Aron remained stunned when she turned away and left the place. After she disappeared from his sight, he broke down crying. 
Half an hour later, Meyja rode through the city gate on a grey stallion. Leaving behind the walls of Sharaya, she spurred her horse and was soon lost in the darkness of the Jevarish forest. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

With a satisfied smile and a feeling in her heart that she herself could not interpret Meyja got up from her place at the counter and followed Brianna into the kitchen to her husband. 

"Sherman, this lady has a request regarding food and would like to speak to you," Brianna opened submissively. 

"Sure. You can go,” Sherman grumbled and Brianna made her way out the door. "What can I help you with?" With a subtly suggestive smile on his lips, the chef turned to his guest, and Meyja also smiled a little ambiguously. 

He had short brunet hair, was tall, broad of build, had dark eyes under bushy brows, and a prominent jaw. He put the meat cleaver he was holding in his hand next to some chunks of raw meat and leaned sideways against the wall looking at Meyja. 

He would have been an attractive man if she hadn't known what sort of man he was. 

She didn't show any dislike and replied, “Well, to be honest... I have just enough coins for the rest of the trip to Sharaya and to pay for the room here. So, I wanted to ask for a discount for this dinner. I would pay... differently. You understand?” She felt like throwing up at the sickening grin that crept across Sherman’s face but she managed to keep the mask upright. 

"So that's it," he murmured eyeing her up and down, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

How she would have liked to hit him at that moment just for the audacity of trying to put her in suspense when she already knew full well that he would agree to the suggestion. But she remained calm as she smiled expectantly and feigned relief when he finally nodded. 

"Pick something to eat, sweetheart. I'll cook anything you want for it," he whispered. 

"Steak. Bloody,” Meyja answered immediately and winked at him. 

"I can do that," Sherman grinned, nodding. 

She turned toward the door looked over her shoulder at him and remarked, "I'm eating fast. After that, I like to stretch my legs outdoors. See you." 

"I'll find you, count on it," he replied lowering his eyes to her ass. 

With a last wink and a teasing hip swing she left the kitchen and sat back at the counter where a second glass of wine was already waiting for her. 

Brianna walked up to her and asked quietly, “He's not dead already, is he?" 

"No, he's alive. Did you change your mind? Then you should change your mind quickly otherwise he'll be dead behind the building in about half an hour,” Meyja urged a little angrily. 

She would never have hesitated when it came to getting rid of Ethan but Brianna seemed to care about her husband despite everything, she looked thoughtful for a moment but then she whispered, “Do it. For Erin." 

"I will," Meyja promised and nodded gently. 

She herself had no children and never wanted any but she could well imagine what she would have done to the man who had abused her daughter. While she wasn't exactly sure what Sherman had done, he could expect no mercy from her – what she knew was perfectly sufficient reason. 

While Meyja kept sipping her wine and waiting for her food, Brianna went about her work and served the other guests even if she seemed jittery and nervous. After a few minutes, Sherman himself came out of the kitchen and with a wink placed the desired steak in front of Meyja before disappearing behind the door again. Hungry she began to eat, amazed to find that it was the best meat she had ever tasted. 

Nonetheless, this would be the last steak Sherman would ever cook, he had to pay for what he had done to his family and Meyja was only right she should wield the deadly blade. She had never been able to take revenge on Ethan which she deeply regretted but now she could end Brianna's and Erin's suffering which seemed equal to hers. It seemed right to use what she possessed to make someone else better off, even though it would probably be the first time in her career as an assassin that she'd committed murder out of personal ambition. 

It really didn't take her long to finish, then she finished the rest of the wine, paid Brianna generously, and went to her room. There she took the packed bags from the cupboard and swung herself out through the window where she crept through the darkness to the stable and stowed the luggage on Crispin's back. To maintain the cover, she climbed back into the building and exited through the front door again before making her way to the back of the building where she would wait for Sherman. She had already provided the two daggers and the stiletto with fresh poison before she went into the dining room to eat. Now she leaned calmly against the wall of the house and waited for her victim. 

As always, she was dressed in dark, wore her leather vest, pants and boots were also leather. She wore fingerless gloves over her hands, also made of soft, dark leather. The only thing she didn't wear was the cloth that usually concealed her identity since Sherman knew who he was meeting and it would only have puzzled him if she'd received him in a mask. 

After a few minutes of waiting, however, the target still hadn't appeared and was beginning to get restless. Had Brianna warned him? Would guards soon show up instead of Sherman and try to arrest her? Suddenly Meyja was unsure whether it would be safe for her to interfere in other people's affairs. She'd been pushing Brianna because she wanted revenge herself even if it wasn't against Ethan but against someone she didn't even know. 

After all, if she just took off, none would probably notice. She wouldn't even be a swindler since favours of this kind were hardly accepted as a means of payment. And even if Sherman went up to one of the guards and complained that she hadn't slept with him in exchange for a steak the best they could do was laugh at him. At the thought of it she almost had to smile herself but then she pushed herself off the wall and walked briskly around the corner of the house in the direction of the stable. 

As she unexpectedly crashed into a body, she jumped, she hadn't expected her victim to come, but it was Sherman who was now grinning down at her and holding her upper arms in his hands. 

"Well? Where are you going, little one? What about our tryst?” he asked. 

Fear spread through Meyja when two more men she had never seen before stepped out from behind him and a look at Sherman’s face showed her that he hadn't fallen into her trap, but she into his. Still, she tried to keep her composure forced a restrained smile on her lips and looked up at him. 

"No, I haven't forgotten. But I'm not local and just wanted to look for you. Who are the two? Spectators weren't scheduled as far as I remember," she noted. 

His hands were still on her upper arms though he didn't grab her the grip was tight enough that she couldn't escape him unnoticed. 

Slowly Sherman pushed her back behind the inn to where she had been waiting for him a moment ago. 

The two guys followed them without a word but they also had a strange smile on their lips and Meyja knew immediately which way the land was laying, even if she acted stupid at first. 

Sherman pressed her gently against the wall of the house. "They're just two good friends. And we hadn't agreed on anything specific that's right, little one. All you said was that you didn't want to pay for your dinner the usual way. The meat you ate was special. Which makes it... well... a little more expensive." 

"Special? What is it supposed to be?” Meyja asked worried. 

To her it had tasted like any other meat, even if it was a bit more tender than the beef that people usually use to make steaks among other things. 

"It wasn't an animal, that's all you need to know," whispered Sherman. 

Meyja immediately became nauseated again, ashen she stared at him. One of the two guys let out a stifled laugh that sent shivers down her spine. 

"Let me go. I won't say it again," she hissed as panic spread through her. 

The two guys stepped to her side and blocked her path before Sherman released her and raised his hands to the sky. 

"And what now, eh?" he asked amused. 

She'd stabbed a hornet's nest; had no idea he was anything more than some guy who mistreated his wife and kid. It almost seemed as if she was magically attracted to this type of person. Whenever she met someone, it turned out in hindsight that relying on them or underestimating them was a mistake. And again, she had made the same mistake. 

Anxiously she continued to stare at Sherman, she barely reached his chest and otherwise he was physically superior to her, the other two would be easier to take out, but at the moment she didn't even have enough room to draw her daggers. When one of the two nameless ones grabbed her hand and slowly pushed her index finger into his sucking mouth her heart sank and she tried to wriggle out of his grip. 

Laughing he released her and said to Sherman, “You should scare her a little more, then she'll taste better." 

"What?!" Meyja exclaimed in disbelief. She stared at the man on her right before she looked back at Sherman. 

"You idiot. There will be enough time for that later. Don't you ever listen when I say something?” Sherman grunted rolling his eyes before stroking his fingers over 

Meyja's cheek. "You promised me some fun. What about it now, sweetheart?” 

"What did you give me to eat? Spit it out," she demanded harshly. 

At the moment her fear for her well-being was only limited to the contents of her stomach as she had a bad suspicion, so outrageous she didn't even want to think about it. 

"If I tell you that you will spit it out and it would be a shame for that. Answer my question,” Sherman demanded slyly. 

She knew full well he would take what he felt was his right, whether she agreed or not. Even if there wasn't much rationality left in her head in those minutes, her instinct was still at work and prevented her from acting thoughtlessly. 

"Only you. The others should go," she determined and tried to give her look something self-confident. 

In truth, she was terrified. He'd served her something that humans don't usually eat. Maybe other people's flesh, maybe something else entirely she didn't know. But if she started throwing up now, she’d undoubtedly not let sleeping dogs lie and she had to avoid that at all costs so she tried not to think about it and instead focused on Sherman who was looking down at her a little irresolutely. 

"That will hardly be enough, I think," he murmured with a gentle shake of his head. 

"You can only say that when you know exactly what you will get from me," Meyja replied hastily. Ready to grab any straw, she would have told him her parents were demons, if it had given her an advantage. 

Sherman was smirking she could see that even though he had one hand covering his mouth but when he shook his head again, she knew she'd lost. 

In a flash she pulled her knee up and rammed it into his crotch as hard as she could the force behind it was enormous because her back was against the wall and thus, she had good support. 

Panting, Sherman squatted down, his hands jerking to his crotch, and a whimper escaped his throat. 

Before the other two had time to react Meyja threw herself on Sherman and swept him to the ground then rolled over him and pulled her daggers out of her strap at the same time. 

One of the footmen went after her and tried to grab her but she ducked under his grasp and stabbed both blades into his stomach before tearing them apart and the man’s body with them. He didn't utter a sound as he watched eyes widening unnaturally as his intestines slid out of his just-closed abdomen and landed in his outstretched hands. The other just stared in her direction in disbelief before he turned and ran away, a second later he had disappeared between the trees and Meyja let out a low curse. Sherman looked up at her with fear in his eyes and howled as she bent over him. 

In retrospect, she didn't know exactly what it was but something in his gaze bothered her so much she thrust both weapons into his eye sockets at the same time and twisted the blades once around their own axis. One last groan escaped Sherman’s mouth before he also met his end. Meyja carelessly jumped over him and ran after the fleeing man for he was a witness and knew her face so she couldn't risk letting him live. 

She paused and listened to the rustle of leaves in the undergrowth as she scurried from tree to tree in near darkness. Eventually however, she lost track and due to the poor light conditions, she couldn't look for his footprints or anything like that. Out of breath still filled with horror and panic she took a few more steps forward then shoved the bloodied daggers back into her belt. She rested her hands on her legs over her knees and bent over still peering into the blackness that built up like a wall in front of her and listening to every sound no matter how low. Forests were never still, day or night – it was all the more disturbing that she heard nothing. Only the distant roar of the wind reached her ears like a noise that drowned out the fluffy silence that surrounded her. Meyja sat up, felt almost blind and deaf at the same time as she tried to orientate herself, and determine from which direction she had come. 

Suddenly she was thrown off her feet and landed hard on the floor, something heavy laying on her, and choking her breath. At the same time, she heard a gasp it was heavily overlaid on her own heartbeat which seemed to be getting faster and louder and was pounding in her head. She gasped for air but something tightened around her neck squeezing her throat and preventing her from breathing. Then she realised it was the fugitive. The guy sat on her chest and tried to choke her but she fought back violently, thrashing, and lashing out at him.  

"Die, bitch! Just die!” the man yelled madly while leaning on her neck with the full weight of his upper body. 

Meyja's hands kept reaching into emptiness, running through the loose, dry leaves, without finding a hold. Had there been anything but blackness around her she would have noticed that her vision was blurring and it was getting darker and darker. Her resistance also weakened, she no longer had the strength to defend herself against him, and the throbbing that she now felt throughout her body became slower and slower with each subsequent heartbeat. 

The faces of Aron and Eralion appeared before her inner eye, both smiled and she felt a deep longing to go to them, to be with them. Aron shook his head with a smile and winked at her. 

"Aron... why?", she wanted to blurt out but, in the end, only a short twitch of her lips was recognisable. 

The jet-black haired man hadn't seen the Indomitable all day but he was sure she was still in Aerai. Sitting in the grass he had impatiently stared through his binoculars whenever he had noticed movement at the entrance to the inn but at some point, it had gotten dark and he could hardly see anything. So, he had saddled his horse and ridden off the streets and paths to the small town to find out where the dark-haired woman had gone. He had tied his mount away from the village in the forest and now crept around the buildings on foot. Since he knew her horse he wanted to see, if it was still in the stable. 

On the way he passed the back of the inn where his target was staying and stopped short when he noticed the two corpses lying at his feet over which he almost tripped. They were two men one of whom had almost been cut in two. Its insides hung like a kinky cascade of blood and guts from the horizontal cut that ran just below the rib cage and stretched almost perfectly symmetrically from flank to flank. 

This dead man looked terrible, no question about it, but the sight of the other corpse gave the black-haired man goosebumps. The second man was laying on his left, had his hands clasped between his thighs, his legs drawn up like a new born baby curling up. The head was twisted so that the face was pointing towards the sky. 

Blood ran out of the empty eyeballs and a red gush ran out of the mouth as well which gave the dead man a bizarre appearance. It was almost as if he was just frozen in the middle of his death and screaming for help. An endless, silent cry for mercy which his killer had not granted him. 

Were these two deaths his target's account? Was it her? He couldn't rule it out but that wasn't her style, after all he knew her and had seen some of the dead that could undoubtedly be attributed to her. The Indomitable did not kill in such a cruel, bloodthirsty manner but acted in secret. Knowing how to obliterate someone without a fuss she didn't have to inflict such carnage. 

The man with the jet-black hair took one last look around and then crept on purposefully approaching the stable. He slipped silently into the barn and peered at the animals, the grey stallion noticed him and let out a growl. That was her horse – and it was saddled. Also, in the dim glow of the lamp he saw that her luggage was tied to the saddle. That meant she was still here, so he had to hurry. He hastily unlocked the shack door and walked up to the grey who eyed him suspiciously and let the whites of his eyes show. 

"Take it easy," he whispered reaching for the saddlebags. 

In one of them he found her map memorised the stages of her journey which would end in Acinares. 

Meyja closed her eyes in resignation. It was over, she was finished. And it was just as she feared. She had always known that death would find her on one of those days when she least expected it. And that she would die like one of her victims – laying in the dark like a worthless piece of meat someone had thrown somewhere. She had never given any thought to how she left her targets at the crime scene. She had just left most of them right where they had died unless one of the bodies had been laying on top of her in which case she had moved the dead. She had dishonoured these people they had died without dignity and she herself had ensured that the position of their remains was also undignified. And now her own body would also become one of those undignified corpses lying around. The only consolation was that she wasn't naked, the rest she could hardly change, at least she could hardly move. 

She exhaled one last time, stretched her arms horizontally to the side and let the tension in her cramping body soften. She couldn't hear the guy who was still sitting on her and yelling at her whilst strangling her. 

Then she felt something big and hard on her fingertips and immediately reached for it grasping the branch hidden under the leaves. With the last of her strength, she lifted it, and smashed it into the darkness. 

Air rushed into her lungs which made her reflexively gasp for more. She inhaled greedily and had to cough the next moment, choking she rolled to the side and vomited again and again into the leaves. She was still struggling for breath groping for her throat but the unfamiliar hands were gone. From somewhere a soft whimper could be heard which she couldn't quite place. 

The coughing also continued and her throat hurt unbearably but it took her two full minutes to grasp the situation she was in. She was sitting on the forest ground and next to her lay the guy who had almost taken her life. Apparently, she had hit him on the head with the branch but he wasn't dead and was wailing like mad. 

Dazed she sat up and looked for the wood but she couldn't find it, it was just too dark. Instead, her groping fingers met a small rock about the size of a melon. She pushed it over to the man until the rock was next to his head then she picked the chunk up in her arms and let it fall. With a crunching sound, the rock shattered the skull and the moaning stopped. To be on the safe side she repeated the process two more times then felt with her fingers that only slippery, warm mass and pieces of bone could be felt above the man’s neck. She hadn't even considered her daggers but she felt no disgust as she wiped her hands on her shirt and staggered away through the forest, arms outstretched. 

She didn't know how long she had been walking but at some point, a faint ray of light shone through between the trees towards which she immediately hurried. On the way there she stumbled a few more times and on the small slope that led down to Aerai she fell and rolled the last few metres until she came to a halt. Then she struggled to her feet and trudged toward the stables where she dragged Crispin out of the stall and took him outside. Luckily the stallion put up with the rough treatment, it seemed as if he sensed that his mistress needed help. But help was the last thing Meyja wanted, she just wanted to get away and turn her back on this cursed place forever. 

Arms trembling with the exertion she pulled herself up the saddle and once she was reasonably secure, she lay face down and heeled into the stallion's sides who then sprang forward and galloped out at full. 

The jet-black haired man removed his hand from his mouth as he heard the clatter of hooves going away. It really was her but she didn't seem to have her situation under control, instead she could hardly walk, coughed constantly, and hadn't even looked around to see if anyone was on her heels. He could have knocked her out in half a second and the Indomitable would truly have been just a legend people talked about. Without a sound he slid off the beam and landed on the ground before slinking back through the night to where he had left his own horse. Now he would have a nice few days in Aerai himself, knowing exactly where his target's journey was going. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Meyja encouraged Crispin with a click of her tongue and the stallion obediently went into a calm trot. They had already been on the move for several hours but the animal showed no signs of tiring. She was a little surprised and at the same time very happy they managed to leave the Slumberwood behind after only six days. Only three nights ago in the morning she had ridden south out of Forstvald. Although Brick hadn't reappeared after the strange night, she still felt like she was being watched all the time and kept looking around. It was not far to Umenksar and the air around them was getting warmer. A sweltering heat beginning to creep in, so she reined in Crispin to slow him down to a leisurely pace. Then she took off her leather vest, tied it to the saddle, and picked up the map. A camp was marked along the way, they would reach it shortly after escaping the Slumberwood. 
Putting the map back in the saddlebag, she saw the bottle of Crimson Bryden that was also inside and suddenly she knew what had happened in her room that night. It was the stuff that made her take on Brick so easily, she was sure of it. There had to be something in this drink that was even more disinhibiting than ordinary liquor and made her compliant. However, she wasn't upset because it had been breath-taking to sleep with him. A smirk crept onto her face as she thought of it but that didn't make this strange man any more likeable. Should she travel back to Sharaya she would try to avoid Forstvald and spend the night in the wilderness but she wouldn't want to deal with the Savage Syndicate again and the chances of slipping past them unnoticed would be better, if she avoided that town. 
Blinking, Meyja looked up and saw that the dense canopy of the shadowy forest had just given way to blue sky and bright sunshine. The trees were also further apart and looked more exotic. 
They had indeed reached the desert of Umenksar and even though it was almost unbearably hot and Crispin was sweating profusely, she rode on slowly with the camp only a short distance ahead. Behind a sand dune she spotted some tents on the edge of an oasis and, relieved, steered the stallion toward them. 

Umenksar, Javar of the year 70 

Crispin calmly walked the last few meters towards the hills behind which lay the goal that Meyja had been aiming for more than half a year. Even if the journey here had been more difficult than she had first thought, they had made it. A narrow path led through the hills covered with dense ferns and Meyja had to duck her head to avoid bumping into the branches of the palm-like trees.
Once at the top, she reined in her animal companion and looked around in awe. Below her lay the infamous bay. Numerous dwellings built of simple timber planks clung to the rocks surrounding the bay where a few smaller ships were anchored. The wooden walkways ran between the buildings were bustling with activity, boxes were carried or pulled on simple carts. She rode slowly down the steep path to the smugglers' town before dismounting exhausted from the saddle. To her right were stables where she stabled her horse and then set out to explore on foot.
With her bag over her shoulder Meyja walked aimlessly through Acinares until she discovered one of the few brick houses in which numerous traders were bustling about. She stopped in front of a display with airy clothing.
Fifteen minutes later, she had bought some sleeveless linen shirts, two pairs of black leather shorts, and a small sack of juicy apples for Crispin. Continuing on her way she eventually reached a tavern where she took a room, washed her sweaty body, and put on her new clothes. The trousers were extremely short, barely covering her bottom and the top of her thighs but given the tropical temperatures she didn't mind the revealing. Until she fully adjusted to the desert heat, she wouldn't be able to use her old clothes unless it got very cold at night which probably wasn't the case.
With the apples she went back to the stable and fed brave Crispin until there was nothing left then she stroked his neck again and left the building through a side exit.
"The lady need help exploring this nest?" whispered a dodgy looking guy sitting on a barrel near the exit.
Meyja stopped and looked at him for a moment. His skin was dark, his hair was matted into strands which he had tied back with a red scarf that ran from the top of his head to the nape of his neck. He wore a white shirt, black leather pants, black boots, and an eye patch covering his right eye.
As he climbed down from the barrel, she said reluctantly, „Just some information on how to earn some gold coins here."
The man grinned widely and stepped closer, making her instinctively back away.
"I didn't mean that way of earning gold," she snapped at him. 
He rubbed his frown and replied, “Well then, there isn't much I can do to help you. 
Unless you like getting your hands dirty.” 
"Tell me," she demanded curtly. 
"Besides the smuggling that is practiced here the trade with the elves is very popular but you don't look like you were to speak La'zhiji or get involved with that pointy-eared Goblin scum," he said quietly and led her to the back of the stables where it was a little quieter. 
"I'm not interested in smuggling," Meyja replied. 
"What were you thinking about? You are in Acinares, my lady. There's not a great deal here that doesn't have anything to do with trade or smuggling,” he remarked calmly. 
"Don't tell me crap I know for a fact that there must be something going on here as well. A place like this doesn't only live on the black market,” she replied and looked at him expectantly. 
For a long time, she had thought about whether she would want to continue killing when she got here. Up until the night in Aerai her opinion had differed but this experience made her realise that she had to kill in order to stay alive. And if it was just a deterrent, she'd be fine with that, too. 
A knowing expression crossed his features before he nodded. "Sure thing, thieves and thugs are everywhere." 
She shook her head gently realising he wasn't coming out and withholding the information she needed. "How much do I have to pay you so that you really tell me what I want to know?" she asked with a smile and used her proven strategy with the subtle smile. 
He grinned a little embarrassed nodded again and said, “Come behind the tavern tonight and I'll tell you what you want to know." 
Meyja pushed him against the wall in a flash, simultaneously drawing a dagger, and holding it to his throat, then hissed, “If you want to play any jokes with me, I'll throw your head down into the cursed bay, I swear." 
"Take it easy, it's all right," he murmured raising his hands defensively. "I'll tell you everything. There is sure to be something to do for those like you. Just linger around the fences' house in the late evening and you're bound to find what you're looking for." 
"Thank you," Meyja remarked, put away her dagger, and calmly walked away. 
Even if she didn't know where the house of the fences was, she still had enough time to find out. First of all, she wanted to recover a little from the exertions of the journey and made her way back to the tavern. 
After taking a seat at the counter the innkeeper she had seen earlier approached her. He was one of those Goblins, green-skinned, had long, sticking-out ears, a huge nose, and was extremely short. 
His voice was both shrill and raspy as he asked, "What can I get you?" 
"What do they usually drink here?" she spoke softly, making the question sound rhetorical, so the innkeeper would assume she just wanted the usual. 
A woman sitting to Meyja's right said, “Bring her rum, Skink. I'll take care of that.” Then she gave the stranger a friendly smile, moved up to her, and shook her hand. 
"I'm Emma." 
Meyja struck and murmured, „Meyja. The rum thing isn't necessary. Thanks." "Alright. You haven't been here long, have you?” Emma asked. 
She had light brown almost dark blonde hair, brown eyes, and freckles on her narrow nose and cheeks. Her clothes were similar to the guy she'd just met at the stables. In contrast to her pale skin Emma’s was slightly tanned and her stature was more delicate than Meyja’s, also she had no rum in front of her but what looked like juice. 
"No, I'm not." She didn't know this woman and although Emma seemed nice, she was wary and didn't want to give too much away. "What are you drinking there?" 
"Wildberry Juice. It's not just elves who love this stuff,” Emma replied with a wink didn't seem to want to give up and nodded to one of the free tables behind them. 
"Let's change seats, it's a bit quieter there." 
Without waiting for an answer, she got up, and headed for the other seat. Meyja followed her a little hesitantly, took her jug with her, and sat down at the table with Emma. 
"Tell me, where are you from?" Emma wanted to know and gently pushed her drinking vessel with supposed juice against Meyja's jug. 
"Sharaya," Meyja murmured curtly and took a sip of rum. 
The lie had escaped her lips reflexively, even if it was almost unbelievable because her hair had not only become lighter and lighter, not only from the merciless rays of the sun, but also through the passage of time and the dyed black had soon given way to the natural red tone. 
"You're not very talkative, are you?" Emma remarked sipping her drink as well. 
Meyja shook her head, now she had to smile, too, she was sure that she and Emma pursued similar activities, but she had never met such an open representative of her kind. "Where are you from, Emma?" 
Emma grinned. “I was born in Effilien but now I live in Sharaya. Forsyth himself sent me here. You could say it's a business trip.” 
Meyja frowned questioningly. "We're definitely of the same breed. Then what is someone like you doing in Acinares on behalf of the capital?” 
"Well, Forsyth also has an interest in his ships not being hijacked and robbed all the time. I'm here to stop that. But that's all I can tell you. Secret thing you understand,” she replied. 
Knowing that Jemar Forsyth was the king of Jevarish, Meyja nodded. "So, you belong to the king's secret service," she summarized quietly and Emma nodded as well. 
Meyja's rum was already empty and she got up to get another one also taking Emma's mug to the counter and letting Skink refill them. 
When Meyja returned to the table, Emma thanked her, drank some of her juice and then nodded her chin in Meyja's direction. "And what are you doing in Acinares?" 
"I'm not doing anything yet, I just hoped to be able to steer my life here in new directions," admitted Meyja. 
Emma raised an eyebrow and looked up at her sceptically. “Lead in new directions? Here? That can’t mean anything good." 
"Can you tell me where the house of the fences is?" Meyja asked openly. 
Emma leaned forward and looked at her intently, then she whispered, “I would advise you to leave as soon as possible, Meyja. Just the fact that you're asking me about the house of the fences... That speaks for itself and you get caught up in things you don't want to be involved in. In addition, you're a Voyneress which is also not without its dangers. You don't have to worry about being followed here, but still..."  
"Let that be my concern, I'm not a well-behaved little girl. But you seem to know quite a bit about Acinares... What is the price of your information?” Meyja asked further. 
Emma shook her head. "None. I'll tell you everything that's going on in Acinares. 
But not here. If you don't mind, I would prefer a private place.” 
Meyja nodded looked around briefly and then got up, together with Emma she went upstairs to her room where she carefully locked the door. 
"So, what do you want to know?" Emma asked. 
"All. What business is done and what crooked things are going on here.” Meyja leaned against the small table that stood against the wall. 
Emma sat on the edge of the bed and thought for a moment then said, “Apart from smuggling inland they trade in the wood elves of La'zhij, Goblins and Trolls. Goods stolen from the Kingdom of Jevarish are mainly smuggled. In addition, stealing and robbery is common within the town. There is much murder and manslaughter, racketeering, and a few honest pursuits, but these are so few and far between that they hardly need mentioning.” 
"Please tell me more about these murder and racketeering things," Meyja asked. 
Emma looked at her warningly again. “The few who made it big in bootlegging employ their own thugs who collect money from those who can’t fight back. Anyone who pays to the black-market barons can still be sure of their protection. That is also the job of the thugs – to protect the blackmailed. However, if someone doesn't want to pay the assassins come in and kill those making room for new being able to get blackmailed who might be more willing to pay." 
"Who are the black-market barons?" Meyja was increasingly interested. 
But Emma shook her head. “Hardly anyone knows that, not even the thugs themselves. And that's why I'm here. I'm trying to locate them." 
Meyja further asked, “What does Sharaya have to do with black-market barons from Acinares?" 
"Very easy. They are responsible for numerous thefts and hijacked ships. Goods belonging to Jevarish were looted apart from the usual raids on the trade routes. And that's why the criminal ranks should be thinned out a bit," explained Emma. 
"I understand. But then how do you become one of their thugs or assassins? If you don't know who to turn to?” Meyja wanted to know. 
"You make a name for yourself. If you manage to get their attention, one of their minions will come and court you on the Baron's behalf. But I wouldn't recommend that. Not only because you'll get in my way and it could end badly for you, but also because these barons are not to be trifled with. They are dangerous”, Emma whispered, folded her arms in front of her chest, and looked at Meyja seriously. 
"And where is the house of the fences now?" Meyja repeated her question. 
"The big stone building where regular trading takes place during the day. That's where the dregs of all of Acinares' scum hang around at night. The name house of fences is only used in these circles, actually it’s called House of Merchants. If you value your life, stay away from there.” Emma got up and stopped in front of Meyja. "Be reasonable, Meyja. That's why I told you all this. So that you don't get sucked into things that are shady and dangerous. Better go to Sharaya and look for a decent job there.” 
Now Meyja gently shook her head. "That's where I come from. I travelled for months to get to Acinares. And in Sharaya I didn't do any legal work either. I murdered for gold. So don't worry about me, I know what I'm doing and I have no intention of getting in your way. All I needed was information like yours. Thank you, 
Emma, I really appreciate you enlightening me.” 
Emma sighed and turned towards the door. "Why did I assume you were reasonable?" she asked wryly then left the room. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Meyja sat on a barrel in the shade on a sunny afternoon the following week looking out for one of the debtors she was tasked with intimidating for McKinley. Her entire body was drenched in sweat even though she hadn't moved an inch in an hour. Acinares was an interesting place whose mysteries lured her and she had decided to make a new life here, even if the oppressive heat despite her light clothing still bothered her. She put her tin water bottle to her lips, never taking her eyes off the broad pier below as one of the wanted men passed. She hastily screwed the canister on and slid it into the holster on her belt before slipping off the barrel and giving chase. As if she couldn't melt butter in her mouth, she sauntered after the man who made his way unerringly through the small town and finally stopped in front of a market stall where he exchanged a few words with the Goblin vendor.
Meyja stepped next to him and looked with mock interest at the window display which contained all sorts of useless things. Next to a row of liquor bottles lay a few firearms, one of which she picked up and looked at. Surprisingly she liked the gun immensely, even though she had never thought about using such a weapon. The debtor, meanwhile, was having an irrelevant conversation about some goods that were about to arrive at the port and he wanted to sell a few crates to the Goblin who seemed to own the stall.
"...you know about it," concluded the debtor and cast a sideways glance at Meyja.
The Goblin nodded and followed his gaze before addressing the supposed customer, “Can I help?"
Meyja acted indecisive, weighed the gun in her hand, and answered, “Does this work?"
"Woman, if you knew something like this, you wouldn't have to ask stupid questions," the Goblin retorted cackling.
She gave him a sharp look and replied, “And if you wanted to make a deal, you would answer."
The debtor grinned broadly, a gold tooth flashed out of his mouth, and he put an arm around Meyja's shoulders before leaning towards her, pointing his finger at the gun, and explained, “Look here. The hammer cocks and fires when you pull the trigger. So, it should work perfectly.”
Meyja nodded slowly then asked the Goblin, “How much?"
"Three thousand gold," he answered lurking.
The debtor laughed out loud and said, “That thing isn't even worth a tenth, you old crook."
"Don't ruin my business, you bloody bastard!" the clerk snarled.
She didn't feel like listening to the two of them arguing so she tuned in again, “I'll give you a hundred."
"Three hundred," the Goblin haggled.
With a shrug Meyja put the pistol back in its place turned away and made preparations to walk away to show her disinterest.
It worked out brilliantly because the salesman hurriedly shouted, “All right, one hundred! Give it to me!"
With a smile she pulled her bag of gold out of her pocket and began to count while the Goblin watched with wide, greedy eyes. The obnoxious little green-skinned creatures weren't as interested in anything as gold she'd quickly discovered. And none of the alien races she found as repellent as the Goblins, although Trolls were very ugly it was the Goblins who always had to be watched out for because they always tried to cheat you. She took her time counting, only taking the smaller, less valuable coins to annoy the little crook a little more but ended up handing him a whole heap of gold across the table which he hastily grabbed.
With a happy grin on his face he remarked, “Thank you very much, come back soon."
"Certainly not," Meyja replied while pushing the gun into her waistband and putting the pouch back in her pocket.
The debtor had watched the scene with amusement and followed her as she walked away from the booth. She was seldom happy about the effect she had on men but now she had lured her victim, even if he had directed his eyes at her barely covered bottom to her displeasure.
She stopped abruptly turned to him and asked, “Can I help you now?"
"No, but maybe I can help you again, my lady. I can show you how to use it,” he answered with a wink.
Meyja thought for a moment, then an idea came to her, and she nodded. "With pleasure. I don't have any plans at the moment anyway."
She shifted her weight to one leg tilted her hips and ran one hand down her ponytail as the other was resting on her waist watching the effect with thieving glee.
The debtor swallowed and scratched his bald head in embarrassment before stammering, “Then... let's go."
"Show me the way," Meyja requested and walked alongside her victim.
McKinley had instructed her to get rid of the guy and where he kept the gold he owed him. If everything went smoothly, she would be able to test the pistol for suitability right away.
"What's your name?" she asked the man who led her over a narrow wooden plank under one of the wide footbridges.
They were standing in a secluded area below the houses and just above the water with no one to be seen far and wide.
"Gilligan. And yours?” he wanted to know and stopped.
Either he was lying or she had baited the wrong guy because the guy on her list was called Ferret.
She didn't show it and replied, “I'm Sia."
"Nice name," Gilligan smiled and held out his hand.
With a quiet thank you she pulled the pistol from her waistband and placed it in his palm which made him laugh.
"You are a woman of action. You didn't think for a second that I wanted to shake your hand. But anyway, let's get started,” he grinned and took a closer look at the weapon.
"Excuse me," Meyja murmured and acted embarrassed.
She'd noticed what he was aiming for she just didn't want him fondling her hand.
He waved her off and said, “It's a nice piece you got there but you should clean it and oil the hammer when you get a chance then it'll be easier to cock."
"I can do that. But how do you shoot with it?” she wanted to know.
Gilligan handed the gun back to her before he drew his own pistol and replied, “I'll show you."
Then he took black powder and lead balls out of his pocket and showed her how to manoeuvre the charge into the barrel in which one first filled some black powder and put the ball on top. A flint was attached to the hammer which produced a spark when the trigger was pulled. This ignited the powder through a tiny hole at the rear end of the barrel and let the bullet shoot out.
"Once you've fired it you have to reload it. There are more modern pistols out there but yours just works that way,” Gilligan concluded.
Meyja nodded slowly she had understood how her gun worked but she was still unsure about his identity so she weighed the loaded pistol in her hand for a moment, put her thumb on the hammer and considered whether she should risk simply shooting him.
Gilligan made the decision for her by pointing his gun to her head and demanding,
“--Drop it, rookie. I know exactly who you work for.”
"What? What are you talking about?”, she tried to avoid him but she dropped her gun on the ground.
At that moment a shot was fired, Meyja jumped in shock, Gilligan also twitched visibly and she took advantage of his momentary inattention pounced on him simultaneously pulled out one of her daggers and rammed it into the man’s neck. He didn't have a chance to use his weapon. When his body fell backwards onto the wooden planks, he was already dead. Pain shot through Meyja's body; it flashed brightly in front of her eyes. With a loud groan she rolled off his body and grabbed her lower leg where the shot from her own pistol had hit her.
'Crap...', she thought.
She struggled to her feet, glancing around, but no one seemed to have noticed her struggle at least she couldn't hear any footsteps approaching. Limping she dragged the body to the edge of the pier and pushed it over where it fell into the water with a loud splash. Then she grabbed the dead man’s gun which was still lying on the ground and dragged herself away.
Luckily in Acinares brawling in public was the order of the day – if not worse – and so no one paid any heed to the bleeding and sweating young woman who was limping toward the tavern.
Arriving in her room she collapsed exhausted onto the bed and looked at the injury which gave off a dull violent throbbing. The lead bullet was lodged deep in the flesh had entered her calf on the outside, torn a wide hole in her tissue, and appeared to have been stopped by the bone. To her relief it hadn't broken. The force of the shot hadn't been enough to break it which was the only reason she was able to walk at all. However, her position was precarious because she knew she had to remove the bullet to avoid dying of lead poisoning – if she didn't bleed to death first. Dark, viscous blood was constantly seeping out of the wound and she was beginning to feel dizzy.
She slipped her stiletto from her boot and wiped it carefully on the bedsheet before lighting the candle on the bedside table and heating the blade over the flame. Eyes closed, she took another deep breath and carefully guided the blade into the wound until it hit something hard. She hadn't touched her flesh yet but it was sure to hurt when she started to loosen the leaden ball so she stuffed a clean section of sheet into her mouth and bit down firmly before continuing.
Groaning she levered the tip of the blade under the lead bullet tried it from all sides and just when she thought she wouldn't make it, the bullet yielded surprisingly. The stiletto suddenly slipped past the surface and plunged deeper than intended, drawing a scream from her that was only muffled by the sheet in her mouth. For a few seconds she threatened to lose consciousness but she caught herself and ripped the blade out of her leg which was bleeding even more profusely than before. She hastily spat out the bed sheet and pressed it onto her leg, the white of the fabric quickly turned dark red but after a short time all the overflowing blood was absorbed and she could see the bullet flashing out. With her left hand she was pinching the flesh around the wound, the fingers of her right gripping inside the wound trying to grab the bullet. Groaning she forced herself to continue, although the pain was overwhelming and tears were running down her cheeks, she would never be ready to give up now.
At some point, the deformed bullet slipped between her fingertips and Meyja slowly pulled it out, her entire body was covered in sweat when she looked at the bullet for a brief moment and then began to treat the wound. She poured a long gulp of liquor down the hole to disinfect it, then panting she wrapped a bandage around her calf and tied it carefully before sinking back onto the mattress and laying there exhausted until she fell asleep.
 
In the morning, she had made her way to the hiding place her boss had told her about and where she had actually come across a sack full of coins, which she had discreetly taken.
Now she threw the leather pouch on the table in front of McKinley and growled,
“Here's your gold."
He didn't look at the container but glanced at her leg and asked, “What happened to you?"
"Let that be my concern. Those orders are done,” she evaded him putting her scraps of parchment next to the bag.
McKinley kept nodding as he leafed through the slips of paper and when he got to the end he said, “There shouldn't be any assignment left either, Ferret was found stabbed to death yesterday."
"How tragic," Meyja remarked ironically and shifted her weight to the sound leg.
"Sit down," he commanded.
"Thanks, I prefer to stand."
McKinley gave her a long inscrutable look, then stood slowly, and circled her a few times before placing his hands on her shoulders from behind and digging his nails painfully into her skin.
"I said sit down," he hissed menacingly into her ear as he pushed her into the chair she was standing next to. She gave in immediately sinking down with her head bowed submissively and her boss sat back in his place still staring at her intimidatingly. "And now you tell me what happened," he demanded pointing in the direction of her injury.
Meyja didn't dare to turn him away again and reported on the events of the previous day leaving out no detail and McKinley listened in silence.
After she finished, he said, “Such incidents endanger not only your work but also me. You got the right guy, but if I didn't know better, I'd think you were a fool. But you are not. It was a mishap that won't happen again, is it?" With a hasty nod she agreed and he continued, “You're temporarily useless in this state so I'll give you something else to do. Starting tomorrow, you will come here and help me with my personal affairs. Someone else will take over your assignments. Do you understand?" She nodded again even though she didn't know exactly what he meant.
"Good. Get some rest and don't let that get inflamed. Go to Druma and tell him I sent you to, tag you, and take care of your wound. You can find him behind the house of fences in his shop. Now get out of here."
Meyja got up with another nod left the building and turned in the direction her boss had just described to her. Walking still caused her great pain and she would even have willingly accepted the help that was surprisingly given to her.
It was already noon and the sun was already beating down so hot that she had to lean against the walls of the houses a few times because she felt dizzy.
After about ten minutes, she had reached the house of fences and walked around the building behind which there were several shops in a narrow alley.
She trudged from entrance to entrance looking for the emblem McKinley had told her about the day before which could be found almost anywhere in Acinares. It was a circle crossed by two parallel horizontal lines and another vertical line marking the buildings that belonged to their gang. Although gang was a rather vague term in this case because they were more of a whole organisation which no doubt had to be headed by one of the black-market barons. After McKinley had opened her eyes to the subtle signs, she had also noticed some strange symbols belonging to other barons that she had better be wary of.
There was a fierce struggle for dominance among the unknowns of Acinares and even the minions would fight among themselves whenever they got too close. The fact that this Druma should now mark her probably had something to do with belonging to one of the barons but she could not imagine anything by that.
Meyja noticed the sign from her boss next to a shop door and limped exhausted into the shop which smelled strongly of some herbs that made her dizzy even more. A Troll of all people was sitting on a cushion in the corner and opened one eye as she walked in. Carpets were spread across the entire surface of the floor, bunches of dried plants hung from the ceiling, and jars with indefinable contents and various idols stood on the shelves.
"Are you Druma?" she asked the Troll and supported herself on a beam when her eyes went black.
Druma nodded, then rose, and came toward her. He had long hair in which several braids were braided and on which he had threaded colourful beads. His huge body was clad in a coarsely woven robe and he wore wooden bracelets on his arms.
"What you want from Druma?" he demanded with a cracking voice.
"McKinley sent me," Meyja explained.
"Yeah. I know,” the Troll grunted pointing his seven-fingered hand to the corner where he had just been sitting.
Groaning she collapsed onto one of the huge pillows and explained, “I have a wound I want you to tend to. He also spoke of a mark. But I don’t know what that means either.”
"I know," Druma replied, crouching in front of her.
He carefully untied the bandage and looked at the injury then got back up and walked over to one of the shelves where he started moving something around that she couldn't see so she just lay on the pillow and closed her eyes.
It wasn't nearly as warm in Druma's shop as it was outside but pleasantly cool and she enjoyed the temperature, even if the fumes made her a little foggy.
Druma seemed to be lighting some stinking herbs again because it smelled even spicier than before and she almost wanted to protest but when she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her and holding out a cigarette.
"Smoke that," he said and she involuntarily grabbed the cigarette.
"What's that?" Meyja wanted to know, she didn't feel comfortable with the strange smell.
Druma was back at the shelf and noisily rummaged around in it. "Against pain."
"All right," she murmured and obediently began to drag on the cigarette which soon brought a confused grin to her lips.
Colourful shapes danced in front of her closed lids and her body became strangely light she almost felt as if she were flying and didn't even notice that Druma was doctoring her.
He rinsed out the wound even inserted one of his clawed fingers to feel for fragments that the lead bullet might have left behind, but Meyja felt nothing of it, just lay listlessly on the big, soft pillow and smoked the herb he had given her.
Finally, the Troll applied ointment to the wound, stitched it up, and wrapped a bandage around her calf, then stood up.
"Undress," he said and grabbed a strangely shaped, small wooden pencil and a can.
"What?" she asked frowning.
She assumed she had misheard but Druma repeated, “Shirt off. For drawings, got it?"
"I... uh... well..." she mumbled enraptured, even though she didn't really understand what he was up to anymore at that moment.
With difficulty she managed to pull the shirt over her head and lie on her side as the Troll commanded her. She didn't notice what happened next, her head became incredibly heavy, and she fell asleep.
 
When Meyja woke up a few hours later, she looked around disoriented until she remembered where she was. She was still laying on the pillow in Druma's shop, the Troll was sitting across from her with his eyes closed, and seemed to be meditating as he had been doing when she entered the shop. Noticing that her chest was bare, she hastily pulled on her shirt, and stood unsteadily.
"Thank you," Meyja said softly, took the ointment he had put in front of her, and made sure that she got away.
As she stepped outside, the tropical heat hit her like a slap, and immediately made her pores sweat again. Trying to remember what had happened in the shop, she headed for the inn and was surprised that her leg didn't hurt anymore. Instead, she noticed a slightly painful tugging under her right armpit which worried her enough not to sit down directly at the counter, but to go to her room first.
When she got there, she immediately took off her shirt and looked at in horror what Druma had done. So that's what McKinley meant by marking. The Troll had tattooed her. It was the mark of the black-market baron, below her armpit at chest level the black circle with the three bars about six centimetres in diameter shone out at her from her pale skin.
'Damned...', she thought.
Had she been sane she could at least have asked Druma to make it smaller but now it was too late and she was marked, although she did not know whose mark it was. The only consolation was that it was always under her clothes and nobody would discover it, though that was probably the whole point. This way her affiliation would be recognizable to those to whom she showed it and everyone else could only guess who she belonged to. She was still angry after all she would have preferred a less intimate position and negotiated the size if she had been able to. With an exasperated groan she kicked a wooden beam and then left the room to indulge in the rum. 
 
When she woke up the next morning the gunshot wound was throbbing painfully again and the tattoo was also burning unpleasantly. Meyja was terribly thirsty but reaching next to the bed showed her that she had already drunk her water. So, she pushed herself up rubbed ointment on both injured areas, dressed, and went downstairs where she had Skink give her fresh, cool water. Bottle in hand, she made her way to her boss, drank greedily as she walked and finally left the empty bottle on a crate before entering McKinley's store. As she now knew it wasn't even a shop, it was just a cover just as Ed's shop had served as a hidden meeting place for the Deathshade. 
McKinley was sitting behind his desk and stood up when she walked in. 
"Good morning," she greeted him and her tone indicated that she was in a bad mood. 
"Likewise. Show me what Druma has done”, he instructed her immediately and stopped in front of her. 
Meyja reluctantly lifted her shirt and showed him the tattoo which he honoured with a smile and a satisfied nod. 
"He's getting better. Lucky you, then,” he grinned showing her his own mark which was in the same place but looked a lot sloppier and washed out. 
She folded her arms and didn't react to his comment, just silently waiting for him to tell her why she was here. 
"You don't like it?" McKinley asked and she ground her teeth, shaking her head. 
"No, it's huge and I would have preferred it in a... less personal spot," she admitted. 
Now her boss shook his head and replied, “That wouldn't be possible. Size, colour, position... all of this must be identical for everyone, otherwise someone who saw our sign on a house wall could have their tag and pretend to be one of us. You must never show anyone, do you understand?” 
"Yes, boss," Meyja answered nodding and hoping that he would finally let her out of the conversation and give her a task. 
"Good," McKinley murmured thoughtfully. 
Then he took her to his private rooms, let her shave, cook for him, and even forced her to clean his flat. She did all of this in silence grim-faced and resentful only relaxing a little when he sat her down at his desk and handed her several lists detailing the debts a number of people owed to McKinley.  
"Some of them are into it twice, it's all a mess. Find the promissory notes, sort them, and write a new, up-to-date statement of all debts. You can go after that,” McKinley ordered, placing a box full of promissory notes in front of her. 
Even if she would have preferred to go through Acinares and beat up the debtors, at least he left her alone with this boring work and she spent the following hours calculating with concentration. By the time evening fell, she was done, and he dismissed her for the rest of the day which she spent at the inn's bar with her best friend, the rum. Before she fell into bed drunk, she looked at her tattoo again and realised that her anger had evaporated, she had already seen uglier ones than her own. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

When Aron woke up the next day, Meyja had disappeared but she had left him a scrap of parchment on the bed that said she wanted to do some of her assignments and would be back by evening at the latest. So, he got up and washed himself in the wooden tub which she had filled with fresh water for him then he went downstairs, sat in the tavern, and had breakfast. The sweltering heat of Umenksar was even getting to him and since he was still in his long clothes, he set off to get something airier.
As he strolled along the boardwalks of Acinares and approached the building where the merchants were selling all sorts of useful things a door next to him was flung open and a man fell out landing on the wooden planks at his feet and doubled over groaning. He was followed by Meyja who hadn't noticed Aron yet, she turned the guy onto his back, sat on his chest, and punched him hard on the cheek, there was an audible crack and the injured man cried out briefly.
"Next time, pay your debts right away so I don't have to come back. Do you understand?” she hissed at her victim.
She hit him again on the already broken cheekbone before she got up and noticed Aron who had stopped grinning a few meters next to her.
"The practice with Renny seems to have borne fruit," he said with a smile while Meyja wiped her bloody hands on her shirt and the guy crawled back into his dwelling behind her.
With a quick look over her shoulder she nodded and grinned at Aron. "He deserved it."
"I would have as well but I hope that I will be spared the beating. What you did to him didn't look like much fun,” Aron remarked and pulled her to him.
"He'll have some of that for a while, I guess," she replied, wrapping her arms around her lover, reaching into his hair, and planting a lustful kiss on his lips.
"As for your beating... you got your pardon last night."
 "How generous," he whispered sliding his hands down her back gently stroking her buttocks before giving them a gentle slap. "Those skimpy clothes really suit you."
Surprisingly, an unknown man approached her and Meyja immediately let go of Aron, took a step away from him eyeing the stranger.
"I have a message for Meyja. Brick is waiting for you in Forstvald to join the Savage Syndicate,” the guy said, already turning to go.
"Then tell him he can wait a long time!" Meyja called after him angrily and watched the messenger until he had disappeared.
Her heart was in her throat when she looked at Aron again.
"What was that? What was he talking about?” Aron wanted to know and frowned at her.
"A long story, I'll tell you tonight. I still have a lot to do until then, sorry,” she murmured evasively kissed him once more and then walked away without turning around again.
Aron looked after her worried, she had seemed almost disturbed when she left and he wondered what she had to do with such strange guys. There were still a few hours until evening and that was how long he had to live with the uncertainty, so he first went to buy shorts, some sleeveless shirts, and spent the rest of the day exploring the bay.
 
Late in the evening the door of her room opened and Meyja shuffled in. Aron had just been laying on the bed staring at the ceiling now he got up to greet her. Exhausted she wrapped her arms around him and leaned against his chest.
"How was your day?" she asked softly.
"Uneventful. And yours?” he wanted to know.
She pulled away from him, undressed, and squatted in the tub before speaking. "Exhausting, but I think I'll be able to finish all my orders tomorrow. If McKinley lets me go, we can head to Sharaya the day after tomorrow.”
His gaze swept over her body for a moment and lingered on the tattoo under her arm. "Who is McKinley again? Who is Brick and – by Derun – why the hell are you tattooed? What is this injury? What the heck happened?”
She fished the sponge out of the water and let the cool water run over her chest head back and sighed softly. “McKinley is my employer here in Acinares. The tattoo marks my affiliation, I didn't have it done voluntarily. I sustained the injury in a fight with my own pistol. And Brick is a guy I met in Forstvald. He leads the Savage Syndicate, a gang roaming the Slumberwood. Brick wanted me to join them but I declined the offer. That he's sending someone to follow me all the way to Acinares is disturbing. I thought he was content with my refusal.”
"What exactly happened? And what makes him want to take you into his gang?” Aron asked and sat down on the chair. The whole thing seemed extremely strange to him.
"Brick and I met at the inn in Forstvald and had a drink together. Later he suddenly disappeared from the guest room and when I went to my room, he was waiting for me there and wanted to know if I would join. Supposedly, he would have use for someone like me. Like I said, I declined, but I was incredibly drunk and didn't resist his physical advances," she said quietly.
"Are you saying you did it with a perfect stranger who broke into your room?" he asked stunned.
Meyja opened her eyes looked at him steadily and then nodded honestly. Aron rubbed his forehead with his fingers and exhaled audibly. "Have you been among the whores or how can one explain this madness?" he whispered.
Angry she threw the wet sponge at his head and hissed, “Don't call me a whore! I don't know anyone who has sunk his cock in some cheap whore's holes as many times as you! At this point I was unattached and free to sleep with whoever I wanted! Not only you guys have physical needs!”
"Is there anything else you want to confess to me?!" he also yelled angrily and threw the sponge back at her.
Meyja got up, put her hands on her hips, and remarked defiantly, “No, but that wasn't a confession because it was sheer madness to sleep with him and I don't regret it. Does it disturb you? Then go!"
She pointed to the exit and Aron got up, eyed her for a moment before he left the room and slammed the door behind him.
He couldn't believe that she had gotten into bed with the leader of some gang who was now having her followed. The whole thing not only put Meyja in danger but also himself, after all the messenger had seen them together. Unless Brick's interest was limited solely to her talent, he would surely want to eliminate Aron as his rival, so they both had to be extremely careful from now on. If it was even relevant because after the argument, they had just had their relationship to each other was beyond murky. He resented her about Brick but the fact that she'd told him how much she liked it pissed him off even more. Even if she was right about the whores he still felt attacked in his masculinity.
 
Meyja was no less dismayed by the events of the day. He actually blamed her for sleeping with a stranger even though he wasn't any better himself in that regard. Even if she still liked to think back to it, she hadn't wanted to tell him how much she had enjoyed Brick's touch. Unlike Brick, however, she loved Aron with all her heart and would never give up on him just because there were other attractive men in Abarglen. Tired she sat in the wooden tub and washed before she got up and put on the clothes despite her wet body. She had to go look for Aron before he did anything stupid and she also wanted to apologize to him.
It was already dark when she walked between the buildings, at some point she found Aron sitting on the edge of a jetty, his legs dangling over the edge, and he was looking out over the night bay. Meyja took a seat next to him and also let her eyes wander the view had something peaceful about it, the reflection of the stars on the water surface was beautiful and the light breeze caressed her bare arms and legs.
"I'm sorry, Aron. I didn't mean to throw you out. And I can understand that you're angry,” she lied.
The apology was meant quite seriously but the understanding was completely lacking. If she admitted that, though, they would only keep fighting so she deliberately withheld that part of the truth from him.
"We have to be careful, Meyja. Who knows what this guy is up to. If he has me killed to get you, you're vulnerable. And even you can’t take on a whole shady gang," Aron said quietly. "Should that happen, just promise me one thing... Get out and hide so he doesn't find you. I can’t stand the thought of him catching you."
"How did you come up with something like that, Aron? Brick just wants me in his gang, nothing more. You don't have to fear for your life,” she answered calmly.
"Yes, Meyja. Brick's motives are clear. You probably don't understand it like I do but I know how men think. The whole situation calls for us to take extremely good care of ourselves. And it's not my own life I fear for – it's yours. Please promise me that you will flee if something happens”, he said quietly and looked at her intently.
A shiver ran down her spine and she nodded. She had never considered all of that and what Aron had just said made sense, Brick posed an incalculable danger.
"Thank you for listening to me." Aron put his arm around her shoulders and gently hugged her. "I'd be more than willing to create unnecessary drama for the cause but the consequences would be incalculable if we took it all lightly. I love you, Meyja.
And I don't want anything to happen to you."
She put her arms around his waist. “I love you, too, Aron. If anything happened to you, I wouldn't take it either.” She looked at him silently for a moment before standing up and taking his hand. "I still have to introduce you to someone," she replied with a smile.
"Anyone else? You make friends very quickly. Please tell me that he is not dangerous,” Aron asked and got up.
"Not at all," she replied with a small giggle.
Then she led him to the stables and stopped in front of the stall that housed her grey stallion.
"A horse?" Aron asked confused. 
"No, not just any horse. This is Crispin and he carried me all the way here,” she replied laughing, entering the box, and scratching the grey on the forehead. 
"That's why it took you so long to travel. A couple of times I almost rode into you. It was pure luck that you didn't discover me," said Aron. 
He went after her, hesitantly stroking the animal's mane. 
"Let me guess... the annoying stable boy in Effilien was on your account?" she wanted to know and when Aron nodded, she sighed softly. 
"A stupid guy but that was to be expected. After all, not everyone can be as brilliant as I am,” he remarked with a grin. 
Meyja laughed again, went over to him, hugged, and kissed him tenderly. 
Crispin didn't seem pleased his apple delivery lady let go of him and knocked the two of them over with his head sending them giggling onto the straw. 
"Cheeky horse," Aron said quietly. 
He still didn't get up, lay on top of his companion, and kissed her again. 
At night the barn was deserted, none came and caught them making passionate love on the straw, completely oblivious to the world around them. Not even when they were still laying there for a while, stroking, kissing, and enjoying the reunion they did get they bothered. 
After finally getting to his feet he mumbled in amusement, “You're crazy." 
Meyja pulled her shirt down before she got up and slipped into her pants. "I never denied that." Only then did she realize that Crispin must have been watching and she blushed. 
"Your horse is just as naughty as you are it seems to me," grinned Aron. 
"We should get him a mare when we get a chance so that he can relieve the pressure," Meyja suggested with a laugh and scratched the curious stallion's neck. 
Aron shook his head and pulled her to him. "What happened to you, Meyja?" he asked quietly while looking deep into her eyes. 
"What are you talking about?" she demanded confused. 
He released her, instead taking her hand, and leading her out of the stable he climbed onto a roof and sat on the clapboards overlooking the bay. Meyja followed him and was still waiting for his answer. 
Only when she sat down next to him did he explain himself. "Yesterday I admittedly had some concerns about your change. I feared that you had become very serious and that your attention was only focused on important things but you convinced me otherwise. You're still the Meyja I love more than anything in this world, still happy, carefree, and just as crazy as the first day," he said quietly. 
A tear of emotion stole from the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek. "And I love you, Aron," she whispered and wrapped her arms around his neck. "For everything you've ever done for me. For being my teacher and teaching me what keeps me alive every day. And for taking away my fears. Only with you by my side can I be so carefree and happy.” 
Aron held her in his arms and stroked her back silent tears ran from his eyes, too. He may have really taken away her fear but Meyja had unintentionally brought fear into his life in the first place. Fear that one day she would not be with him, fear that something would happen to her, and fear that she would meet her end before him. Even if it seemed irrational, he dreaded every second of the moment when death would part them. He needed her more than the air he needed to breathe and if she were gone there would be nothing left for him to live for either. 
When she had left him in Sharaya, he himself had felt the pain he must have caused her by his disappearance – no feeling could compare. Riding after her was a matter of course for him, he could never have given up on her, even if she had rejected him. And if only he could have seen her from afar it would still have been better than living without her altogether. But he didn't tell her any of that, it seemed pathetic to him to base his entire existence on her so much. But that's how he felt, she was just everything to him. 
 
Meyja entered McKinley's shop and he watched her waiting sitting behind the desk. 
"I've done everything," she said and looked at her boss expectantly. She didn't quite know how to convince him that he would let her go after all it had been difficult to elicit orders from him that did not only concern him personally. 
He got up, walked around his desk, and leaned against the edge while shooting her with his gaze menacingly. 
She swallowed nervously a few times then opened up to him, “I don't want to work for you anymore. To be more precise... I am planning to leave Acinares tomorrow.” 
"That is very unfortunate. You left a lasting impression. The debtors really tremble when I just threaten to send Meyja over. Besides, you make a good barber,” he replied stroking his stubble with a grin. 
"That may be so, but I have my reasons," she replied dismissively. 
McKinley stopped grinning, pushed himself off the table, and approached her lurking. "That would be?" 
"I don't think it's any of your business. That's why I won't tell you anything else”, she dismissed him again. 
He paused for a long moment, looking down at his feet, and then nodded slowly. "Well, it's really a shame, but I guess there's nothing I can do about it. Sit down. I'll have a last glass of rum with you," he said as he turned and went to the sideboard where he kept his collection of different types of schnapps. 
When she didn't move, he looked over his shoulder, and Meyja sat down resignedly, he had made it clear to her that it would be painful, if she didn't give in. 
McKinley leaned back against his desk in front of her and handed her a glass before toasting her. "To the best barber and debt collector I've ever had," he whispered draining his glass in one gulp. 
Meyja did the same she was drinking harder than ever and wanted to disappear as quickly as possible to go back to Aron who was waiting in her room. 
McKinley fixed his piercing gaze on her, cocked his head, and asked, "I'd still be very interested to know why you're throwing this away. You've made a name for yourself in a matter of weeks and you'll earn a huge pile of gold with every order. In addition, I gave you additional work which I also paid generously. Now who is it that pays so much better?” 
"I don't care about gold I have more than enough of that. With all due respect, my reasons are my private affair and really none of your business. And if you... if... if...", Meyja answered and clutched her head. 
A look at his grinning visage showed her it was his fault that she was feeling increasingly groggy. 
Her tongue was so heavy that she could not speak and when she tried to stand up, she fell lengthwise. The last thing she knew was her empty glass rolling across the floor and McKinley's voice commanding, “She's planning to run. Take her to the boss.” 
Then darkness enveloped her. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Aron stopped in front of Ed's shop and took a deep breath, Meyja took his hand and looked at him while her thumb stroked the back of his hand. She didn't need to say anything, he knew that he could count on her support for what was about to happen. He hadn't seen their common boss for more than two years, even after he came back from the Academy, his full attention was on Meyja and there hadn't been time to visit Ed. The stocky, dark-haired man had always been like a father to Aron, ever since he'd turned up at the store begging for work with his brother in tow more than fifteen years ago. It wasn’t foreseeable how Ed would react when he met the man who had made off in a cloak and dagger operation and Ed had thought him dead for a long time, only Eralion had promised to inform their boss about it that Aron was very much alive. 
But it wasn't just Aron who had to expect a thunderstorm, Meyja had also abandoned Ed and it was only because of her that Aron hadn't turned up in the shop after his return. This put a lot of strain on the guild as the couple were the two most capable people and the only ones who could do the really difficult jobs. When Aron explained Ed's concerns about the relationship with Meyja neither of them would have thought that one day it could happen that assuming the worst could become a bitter reality. However, it had already happened and they couldn't undo it, they could only flee forward and they owed it to Ed to explain themselves. 
Aron lifted his head and looked at Meyja as well a long look later he had plucked up enough courage and slowly pushed open the shop door the bell rang to announce their arrival. They stopped side by side at the entrance; they could hear footsteps clumsily approaching the curtain in the back room. 
Ed was stunned in the passage when he saw the two. He looked old, his hair was grey, and his skin was wrinkled. For a moment he just stared at Meyja and Aron then his eyes filled with tears. 
"Aron..." he whispered and slowly walked towards his lost son. 
Weeping, the two men wrapped their arms around each other and held each other for minutes while Meyja stood by, carried away by the emotionality of both of them, she also cried silent tears of emotion and regret. 
"I thought I'd never see you again," Ed sobbed in agony. 
"I'm so sorry, Ed," Aron answered quietly and looked at his companion in tears. 
Meyja understood immediately and locked the shop door, Aron already led the still stunned Ed out of the sales room to take him upstairs. 
Then she followed them both, climbed the steps into the room where the 
Deathshade so often met and where Ed was now sitting at the table. Aron looked up briefly he was still crying and was just pouring a mug of schnapps for their boss who gratefully accepted it. 
"I can hardly believe it. A few months ago, Eralion came to me and said he had seen you and you were still alive. But he also said Meyja left town and you followed her. I thought that was it... And I'll never see you again,” Ed sobbed. 
Shaking his head gently Aron sank into a chair. “But only to get her back. It took so long because I had to ride after her all the way to Acinares. Please forgive me, Ed, it never was my intention to keep any of you in the dark as to my whereabouts. Meyja didn't know anything either although I had sent her a message. The messenger never got to her or she would have told you I was fine.”  
"I would have, of course," murmured Meyja and sat down with the two men. 
Ed looked at her with watery eyes. „It hurts me, too, that you let me down. But I'm glad to see you both again and I forgive you whether you can explain it or not." 
She looked down at the table. "I could but I doubt that anyone outside would understand. Still, I'm terribly sorry." 
Meyja was also still crying silent tears, even though she was happy that Aron and Ed were reunited, she felt bad and mean. The knowledge of having left behind someone who seemed to care about her hurt, even though she didn't love Ed like 
Eralion or even Aron. Just the fact that he liked her was enough to blame herself but Aron pulled her out of her gloomy thoughts by grabbing her hand that was laying on the table. 
When she looked up, he gave her a loving smile before turning back to Ed. "It might be a minor thing right now but you can count on both of us. If we're still 
Deathshade, of course..." 
"You are. Until your death which will hopefully be many years away. But I'm afraid things are looking very bad for us right now. We were quickly supplanted after there was no one left who would have been able to stop the other guilds,” Ed replied bitterly. 
"What does this mean? Didn't Tasim and Raemur do anything about it?" The shocked Aron wanted to know. 
Ed nodded a little absently, one could tell he was upset that the Deathshade weren't the undisputed community they once were. 
Eventually, their boss said quietly, “Yes, they tried. But many years of experience is not enough. It takes talent for something like this. The talent that's in both of you. That other men don't have. Or should I say decreed? Tasim is no longer with us; he was killed on one of those assignments two weeks ago.” 
Aron turned deathly pale and covered his mouth with his hands while Meyja also looked dismayed. They had liked Tasim; he had been the most popular of all men, had taught not a few what later opened the doors of the guild for them. 
But such was life as assassins, the majority of them met their deaths before he or she had even reached their prime and all were aware of the dangers of trying to kill others. 
"I'm so sorry, Ed," Aron whispered as his shoulders were jerking uncontrollably at the grief for his brother. 
Meyja also offered her condolences, still crying softly. 
Aron turned his head and looked at her with a pained look; she could see the fear he had for her and which she also felt when she thought about the fact that he also was in constant danger. 
"I've seriously considered quitting and closing the shop. After all, I've gotten old and I don't know how many more losses I can take before I perish. You are like a son to me, Aron. But at some point, every man meets someone who is smarter than himself. And I don't want to have to mourn your death one day," Ed said quietly, but Aron shook his head violently. 
"You'll never have to. We're both here and we're up to it. Don't worry so much the Indomitable and the Unseen are at your service and will help the Deathshade to regain its former glory," Aron promised. 
Meyja was silent brooding for she wasn't afraid for herself or for the other men, but if it meant that her lover was no longer in danger, she would accept that there was no longer a guild. But she didn't want to stab him in the back so she nodded and resolved to discuss this matter with him when they were alone. Even if he didn't seem to think about it at the moment, he would certainly agree with her, if she made him aware they could then lead a life together in peace. But it took time and it wasn't an easy decision to make too quickly. 
Ed thought just like her because he replied, “Let me think about it, okay? Come back tomorrow and we'll talk about the future of the Deathshade, but it was a bit much for today. I've become an old man." 
With an indulgent nod Aron got up and put his hand on Ed's shoulder who also got up and hugged the young man tightly. 
"Take care you two," her boss murmured, wiping his eyes with a smile. 
"Sure. Nobody catches us both on the wrong foot,” Aron replied. 
"I hope so," Ed grumbled and let go of him before he turned to Meyja who was standing a little unsteadily next to her chair. "Come here, child." 
With a touched smile Meyja returned Ed's hug then they said goodbye and left the store. 
As they stepped onto the street, Aron suggested, “Let's take another walk to the pumpkin field. I haven't been there for so long." 
"With pleasure. I feel the same way. Since your disappearance I couldn't bring myself to visit this place,” she admitted quietly and walked alongside him through the evening streets which were slowly becoming quieter. 
The hustle and bustle had subsided, only a few people were still out and about, most of them seemed to be on their way home, surely looking forward to a hearty meal and their families. But the couple's hearts were just too heavy and their thoughts too dark to enjoy the evening of a beautiful winter day. 
Arriving at their tree, they sat down in the snow and Aron put his arm around 
Meyja's shoulders before remarking, “You're for the end of the guild, aren't you?" 
For a moment, she didn't know how to explain it to him but then she nodded slightly. “Yes, I am." 
He sighed softly, leaned his head back against the tree, and looked at her then whispered, “I understand you because I know why. You're scared for me." 
"But you're afraid, too, you can’t deny it. Just imagine what it would be like to live a life of peace. You wouldn't have to kill anyone anymore and you wouldn't have to fear every second that I'm not with you that I won't come back,” she replied meeting his gaze. 
He realised how serious she was about it and she was right in what she said. In his eyes however, the idea of buying a house and being able to grow old side by side was downright utopian. 
"You know I've been working for Ed for almost as long as I can remember. And that's why I killed most of the time which I never really had a problem with. The thought of giving it all up and living a middle-class life scares me. But if you want it, we'll face it together," he said softly. 
With a hesitant smile on her lips, she nodded, and snuggled up to him. 
"Then there is one condition though," he objected. 
She looked up at him again, “Which one?" 
With a smile he stroked her cheek and whispered, “Finally become my wife, 
Meyja." 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Ed came out of the shop and fell on his knees next to Aron's corpse, Eralion stood up in amazement and tried to pull Meyja to her feet but she fought back violently still crying and screaming holding onto her dead lover. Eralion released her and ran into the store, moments later the horn of the Deathshade rang just once over the city, filling the streets of Sharaya with its dark, menacing sound. 

When they heard of the death of one of their brothers, the men rushed towards the store from different directions. Within two minutes they had arrived one after the other as they had heard Meyja's screams from afar and looked down at the fallen Aron in dismay. Raemur and Sully had to help Eralion drag Meyja away from the corpse and into Ed's shop. Deval and Will carried the body into the shop and placed it on the counter while Eralion hugged the still sobbing woman and sat down with her on the floor of the salesroom. 

Meyja was covered in blood all over but she only noticed it after a few minutes and then squirmed out of Eralion's embrace. 

"No!" she yelled, ripping off her clothes, and then falling back on the ground, arms wrapped around her knees, and crying in despair. 

The Deathshade stood around them deeply affected for it was a bit much at once. They hadn't even known that the two were back in town and now Aron was dead and the almost naked Meyja lay weeping at her feet in the midst of the bloody clothes. Eralion scrambled to his feet and stripped off his shirt then motioned for Thom and Raemur to help him. Together they lifted the confused young woman’s torso and pulled the shirt over her head before Eralion took her in his arms again and continued to hold her.  

"You are not alone, Meyja, I am with you. I love you and will always be with you,” he whispered, ignoring the embarrassed looks of the men. 

"Who did this guy belong to?" Raemur asked looking around. 

They had all seen the killer's body still lying on the street but no one knew whose job he had come. 

"It's my fault!" screamed Meyja. 

"Guards!" warned Deval who was standing by the door and peering out through the small window. 

Eralion pressed his hand over Meyja's mouth who fell silent. 

Only when Deval gave the all-clear with a nod did Eralion release her again. 

"Aron is dead because of me. And he saw it coming..." she added a little quieter and sat up sobbing. 

Eralion asked in horror, “What do you mean by that?" 

"I'm sure a gang from the Slumberwood is behind this. Their leader wanted me to work for him but I refused. His name is Brick and the gang is called the Savage Syndicate,” she said trying to wipe away her tears which continued to flow unstoppably down her cheeks. 

She then recounted her journey, how she met Brick, the messenger in Acinares, and Aron's fears. 

The Deathshade had listened silently and Eralion murmured, “So that's what Aron meant when he said that you should flee." He looked at Meyja in dismay. 

“We can hardly take on a whole gang. If this guy is really only after Meyja then she needs to leave town. For her safety and our own,” Raemur said and looked around again. 

An almost unanimous nod was the answer, only Eralion didn't nod, he continued to stare at Meyja who would now undoubtedly leave him behind again.  

"I'll pack her things," Thom said and took a step toward the door. 

"Don't go alone. Who knows how many are already in their flat,” Raemur murmured. 

He reached into the pocket of Meyja's pants which were still laying on the floor, took out the key, and handed it to Thom before telling Sully and Deval to go with him. Raemur locked the shop door after the three exited and then looked at Eralion. "You will stay with us, brother. We need your help here in Sharaya. Love or not,” he said seriously. 

Eralion nodded silently and stood up before he helped Meyja to her feet who avoided looking toward the counter. 

The whole time, Ed stood by the corpse, silent tears streaming down his face as he held Aron's lifeless hand. He had only just seen him again and now he was laying in front of him with pale skin and that blank look in his eyes. Ed gently closed his eyelids with his fingers, watching over his prodigal son, and silently praying to the gods that he was in a better place now far away from ruin and death. He already missed Aron even before his body had cooled down. The loss left a deep hole in Ed's heart he would never be able to fill. This man had been his be-all and end-all, the only reason he had carried on the guild for so long and not retired years ago as planned. 

Will carried over a chair that had been in the corner of the room and said, “We need to change Meyja's appearance for it might help that she isn't immediately recognised." 

With a nod Raemur went to the young woman, pulled her roughly to her feet, and pushed her towards the chair. She sank down into without resistance then he stepped behind her and drew his dagger. Will took the clip out of her hair and Eralion still watched silently as Raemur used his blade to first trim her long hair and then remove the metal ring from her nose. 

She did look really different when they finished with her a few minutes later the haircut was extremely short, just long enough to tuck a few strands behind her ear. 

Will nodded his approval and opened the door to the returning men. 

Thom put a bag in front of Meyja's feet and said, “I packed everything that seemed important. Although nobody was there, the flat had been broken into, and searched.” 

"It's about time she goes away. If they know where she lives, it'll only be a matter of hours before they show up here. We were cautious but you never know if someone hasn't followed us," added Deval. 

The sad Eralion took Meyja's hand and bag then led her through the curtain into the back room. Almost tiny in his oversized shirt, she stood lost and apathetic in the middle of the full-stuffed room, tears welling up in his eyes again as he rummaged through her things and selected some clothes. Obviously, she wasn't able to do anything right now so he would have to dress her. He carefully pulled his shirt down over her head, moistened a rag with some water from the wooden tub in the corner, and wiped the blood from her face and trembling fingers. 

Even though the blood had seeped through her own shirt and smeared her stomach and chest he didn't dare touching her there. So, he pulled one of her clean linen shirts over her head, lifted her arms one by one, and guided them into the sleeves before kneeling in front of her to pull a pair of pants on her. She let him lift her feet listlessly not responding to any of his touches, just standing there as tears trickled down her expressionless face. 

Then he hugged her gently and whispered, "I don't know what else to say. Except I love you and will always be there for you. But I can’t accompany you, you have to protect yourself. Do it for Aron, he wanted it that way. Take care, Meyja.” 

She nodded silently, took the bag he handed her, and went through the curtain to the front of the store. Eralion reached for his shirt but before he put it on, he pressed the fabric to his face, and inhaled her scent which he would miss so much again. The tears he had been successfully holding back were now streaming down his cheeks. 

He could hear footsteps and the bell ringing. 

After the shop door slammed shut, he got on his knees and sobbed loudly because she was gone once and for all, wherever she went, she would not come back. 

This time it was final. 

Raemur, Sully, Thom, Will, and Deval had Meyja in their midst and escorted her briskly out of the shop always wary of having to defend themselves but no incident occurred and they made it safely into the long stable block at the edge of the old town. 

"She must be far away from here. Maybe the dwarves will take her into Emerald," Raemur suggested. 

"Let her decide for herself which place she chooses for her exile. It would probably be better, if we didn't know where she's going anyway," Deval interjected. 

A unanimous nod followed his words. 

She knew exactly where she was going. To the place of her darkest years, to her homeland of Voynar. As a punishment for herself after making sure Aron died because of her. If she didn't find death merciful at the hands of Brick or the Destriers, at least the demons of her past would drive her insane. 

The men raised their hands in farewell and she knew none of them would miss her but it was her own fault and the more she was hated the better. Dejected she mounted Crispin's back who the men had already saddled after pointing out that she had a horse and one of the many animals was hers. 

She pulled the hood lower over her face before gently urging the grey stallion and riding away through the alleys. 

The Riverlands, Medelya of the Year 71 

A few weeks later, Meyja stood in Seacity and looked out over the Riverlands crisscrossed by rivulets. From a merchant she bought provisions, a map, a simple tent, and blanket before she went to the stables to check on Crispin. 

Fifteen minutes later, she rode out of the small city and towards a bridge. Her thoughts revolved around Aron whom his love for her had killed. If only he had died happy but instead, he'd perished just seconds after dragging her from someone else's arms. She had dishonoured him and herself with it. Calling her a whore in Acinares had been perfectly accurate. Self-loathing clouded her senses, she rode blindly down the road nearly taking the wrong turn that would take her further east and into Hyrunar. She wouldn't even be able to be there at his funeral. Surely Aron would be buried in some hole in front of Sharaya's gates and this great man would be forgotten as quickly as he died. And it was her fault, hers alone. Because she couldn't keep her legs together. 

As she rode on, she slipped her clean, sharp stiletto out of her boot and rolled up the sleeve of her shirt. She wanted to bleed like Aron had bled when he took his last breath in her arms. Ferociously, she cut her forearm a few times, not deep but it was enough for blood to trickle out of the wounds and over her skin. The sight of the cuts and the pain calmed her down a bit and finally brought back the tears that had already dried up. 

Sharaya, Kingdom of Jevarish, Medelya of the year 71 

Eralion Mason stood silently beside Ed and the other Deathshade as the aged priest delivered his speech in their midst the matt black wooden coffin that held Aron's remains. The body had remained in the freezing cold crypt beneath the cathedral for weeks until the priest had scheduled the ceremony. 

“In life, Aron Gray was a great man who carried love in his heart. And those he loved, he protected with the light in his heart from all the evil and the darkness in the world which reigns wherever the light of the gods cannot shine,” said the priest and Eralion stopped listening to him. 

Everything the old man said sounded to his ears like a big pile of crap that he rattled off every time someone pegged out. At Tasim's funeral just before they had already heard the same boring, meaningless words and Eralion wanted to scream. Anger, desperation, and pain. Nobody could have saved Aron, not the gods and also no other power of this cursed world, his brother was dead, and lay in a box on a pile of wood. The guild no longer existed, Meyja had left and he was left with nothing, he was alone. 

As four novices came up and lit the woodpile under the coffin, Eralion turned and walked away between the tombstones to the stone parapet beyond which lay the little lake. Unable to hold back the tears any longer, he began to sob, crying silently with shaking shoulders. 

It felt like an eternity later that he calmed down a bit and looked over his shoulder at the grave site which was now almost deserted, the men and priests had left only Ed was still standing in front of the blazing fire. Eralion slowly approached his former boss and gently put a hand on his shoulder as he reached him. Ed didn't react, just stared wordlessly into the flames as tears were running down his cheeks and into his beard. Rarely had Eralion seen him like this, not even after Aron had disappeared had Ed looked so terrible. 

Eralion took his hand from Ed's shoulder in resignation but he remained standing, even as it began to rain and the drops tried to wash away the tears and sadness, neither of them moved. 

There was nothing left for either of them where they could have gone anyway so they stood in the rain and silently mourned the loved ones they had lost each in a different way. 

Destrothos, Fulgyr of the year 71 

Two months later, Meyja had already started the last part of her journey home and was in the lands of the enemy Destrothos. A few miles away, but already in sight, the Wall of Voynar loomed into the sky, a gaping gap in the middle of the masonry. So, the undead had managed to tear down the bulwark, after all. She reined in Crispin on a rise and looked back over her shoulder for any pursuers. Even when she could see none, she quickly spurred the stallion on, guiding him down the hill, and toward the passage into the Ice Lands. Obediently, the animal rushed forward, swung wide, and snorting made its way across the grassy steppe. The biting cold wind brought tears to Meyja's eyes but she didn't even think of slowing down, instead leaning far forward on Crispin's neck. 

A strange wooden-sounding crack made her turn her head again and she noticed with a start that two undead were behind her. Three more just rose from the ground and when Meyja looked ahead again the ground crept in front of moving bones. 

'Crap…', she thought. 

She had ridden straight into a trap set by the enemy who must have been just waiting to get unsuspecting victims like her. Frightened she jabbed her heels into Crispin's sides and the stallion accelerated again, also running in panic from the creatures which one by one crawled out of the ground to his hooves, and gave chase. The undead were relatively slow but their sheer numbers were enough to cut off Meyja's path. Desperately she tugged at the reins and guided Crispin who fortunately still trusted her, rather than simply running blindly into their misery in an arc around the undead. 

Then she spurred her stallion on again who galloped towards the gap in the wall while Meyja kept glancing over her shoulder and noting that the undead retreated as soon as they reached the safe passage into the Ice Lands. She looked around again reigned her horse then sprang from the saddle, hastily tied the reins to an abandoned fixture, and clambered onto the remains of a catapult. She kept a lookout for the undead who moved back to where they had crawled out of the ground and disappeared again in a blink of an eye, causing Meyja to blink in amazement. 

No matter how hard she stared at the grassland, she couldn't even see remnants of what had just happened. But how did these monsters manage to hide in the ground? 

And how had they disappeared back into it so quickly? 

When Crispin mumbled his discomfort, she looked down at him and the next moment she heard voices deep and raspy echoing through the narrow valley in which she was. 

Terrified she jumped down from the catapult and untied her stallion before scurrying with him behind a distant palisade where she crouched and peered around a corner over the former battlefield. 

The few years she had lived away from her homeland had not been enough to let all the remnants of the war against Destrothos rot away, instead numerous wooden fortifications and catapults stood in the narrow pass that led up into the Kingdom of Voynar that no one had been able to clear away in such a short time. She could also make out rusty swords, shields, and human bones, but she didn't have a chance to think about them because two figures just came around the corner. 

They were Virtheriā, huge and hairy. All of a sudden Meyja felt like she had been transported years back to the time when these beasts had murdered her family and although she knew better she felt hatred sprout within her. They had taken her brother; the most important thing in her life had fallen victim to these beasts and she put a grim hand on the butt of her weapon. Her eyes followed the two of them who meanwhile moved on two legs across the battlefield and spoke quietly to each other. 

The silver grey was probably a Virtherion for his voice was deeper than that of the black Virtheria. 

The dark-furred woman was just asking, “Now where do we start?" 

"The Dyphuom represents a niver-endin’ abundance of spiritual power that we will harness. But always remember that it is playin’ with fire and ya can easily burn yer fingers. Ya need a lot of patience to become a good Shepherd of Souls,” said the silver-grey. 

Meyja could no longer hear his companion's answer because they had already passed her and disappeared through the gap in the wall to the Destrian side. 

It was now or never – she had to act or they would come back and she was no more than a few fleshy lumps as was the rest of Voynar's population. She hurriedly grabbed Crispin's reins and pulled him back through all the fortifications where she mounted and urged him up the path. 

Yardleyu Faegan Blake walked alongside his student while explaining the most important concepts she would need as a prospective Shepherd of Souls when they heard hoofbeats a long way behind them. 

His head snapped around and he sniffed the light breeze which blew a scent that seemed strangely familiar to him but he just shook his head impatiently. 

"Wot wus that?" he growled lurking. 

She listened, too, then pulled up her lips. “A rider." 

Immediately the two got on all fours and rushed back the way they had come down. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

When Meyja opened her eyes the next morning, she felt strange, her injuries still burned terribly, but that wasn't the reason for the uneasy feeling. An unsettling presence filled the room and when she turned her head, she saw the outline of a person sitting in one of the armchairs a few meters away from her. 

Startled she jumped up and pulled the daggers from her back. 

"Who is it?" she asked. 

"Put these things away, Meyja," came a voice. 

She backed up to one of the windows and drew back the curtain eyeing the familiar visitor who rose from the chair. "Cayden?" 

Cayden Kavanagh smirked and walked towards her. "I'm sorry I scared ya." 

"Oh, that’s okay," she said somewhat embarrassed and waved him off. "It's really a surprise to meet you here. How long has it been now?” 

He thought for a moment. “Three and a half years, if I remember correctly. A lon’ time, ain’t it?" 

"Whatever..." she murmured softly. 

Cayden had apparently worried about his eye colour for nothing at the time because they shone in the ice blue typical of Voynar and his hair was white blond again like her brother's once was. Otherwise, he hadn't changed very much from the outside – in contrast to her. Meyja herself had become thin since Aron was no longer with her. In addition, she always had dark circles under her eyes and when she smiled it seemed anything but sincere. 

His gaze fell on her forearm before she could hide it and he asked worriedly, 

"Where did ya get those injuries?”

She pulled her sleeve over the wounds. "It was broken glass. As I climbed onto a shelf in one of the houses to get to the canned food at the top, the rotten wood gave way and I fell. Likewise, the wine bottles that had been standing further down on one of the shelves.” 

"Ya better take better care of yerself," he scolded. "We need every man and woman to restore Voynar to its former glory. Ya too. Wot am I gabbin’ ‘bout? We just need ya. I don' know anyone who is as loyal as ya." 

Meyja just nodded seriously and was silent for a moment. “How did you find me here?" 

"Yer horse has left its mark. It wus hard to miss this mornin’ that sumone came to Voynar with the snow,” he remarked smiling. 

She had actually forgotten to attach a branch to Crispin's tail which smudged his hoofprints as soon as her stallion made them and she covered her face with her hand in embarrassment. 

"Somehow I missed it," she admitted sheepishly. “But I assumed the town was deserted anyway. Where do you live?" 

He grabbed her hand and led her back to her makeshift bed while he settled himself in the chair. “Actually, at my family's estate out of the city. But the snow caught me by surprise, so I took shelter two houses down.” 

"But it snowed the night before last. Why didn't you use yesterday and go back?” she wanted to know. 

"Have ya been to the estate before? It's a lon’ way there if ya don' have a horse," he replied laughing softly. "Especially if there's snow." 

Meyja now had to smile as well. "And now you want to borrow my horse, right?" 

He shook his head. "No, no... I'm in the process of tamin’ one of the feral animals that live up here. I also have a followin’ that will pick me up this afternoon if I haven' returned by then." 

She nodded in understanding and smiled distantly. "Good." 

Cayden tilted his head at her and asked softly, "Will ya join us, Meyja?" 

With a gentle shake of her head, she dismissed him. "No, Cayden. First, I want to be alone for a while. A lot has happened in the past year and I need time to organise my thoughts. I'm really sorry." 

"Nobody should be alone here in the north," he objected, but she shook her head again more violently. 

"I still have to. I didn't choose that, but it will be for the best,” she retorted not daring to look at him. 

He asked softly, “Wot happened, Meyja?" 

She shrugged silently, looked down at her knees, and fought back tears. Then she pressed out, "Aron is dead." 

"I'm very sorry for ya." Before she could resist, he knelt in front of her, and pulled her in his arms. 

Although the closeness made her uncomfortable, she began to sob quietly, leaning her head on his shoulder she cried for Aron, and Cayden stroked her back. 

Eventually, she realised the absurdity of the situation, pulled away from him, sniffling, and wiping her eyes. 

"Excuse me," she murmured meaning Aron rather than her counterpart. 

Cayden gave her an encouraging smile. "It's okay. I don' think that's a bad thing, ya know?" 

"But I do. If you consider that Aron has already..." she began, but then broke off her words, shaking her head. "Not so important." 

"Wot did Aron have ‘bout me?" Cayden asked. 

Meyja put her hands on her head and replied, “Please. Why don't we just talk about something else?”  

"Because I want to know, Meyja. Tell me,” he demanded seriously. 

His piercing gaze intimidated her and – although she didn't know why – she suddenly felt that she was afraid of him. There wasn't really a reason for that but she had a feeling that Cayden Kavanagh was dangerous. So, she would have to quickly think of something to lie to him again. Her mind was racing and her heart was pounding in her chest. 

She acted as if she was still reluctant to tell him the truth before murmuring, "He had already given you a lot of thought. I was finally able to convince him that everything is fine. Nothing else." 

"’Cause of me. I see.” Cayden leaned back, then got up, and sat down next to her on the makeshift bed. "But now he's dead and yah’re unbound again, do I understand that correctly?" 

"No, I'm not unbound, I'm in mourning. Give me the time I need to get over this. Then we'll see what happens," she said. 

Though she feared challenging him by turning him down, she still had to do it to preserve her freedom. He hadn't noticed the two previous lies and she hoped that he would now believe her in this move as well although he would then have to wait an eternity for her because she wouldn't dream of joining his entourage. 

And as hoped Cayden agreed, “A’ight, then take yer time. But I expect ya to come to me afterwards and we can think ‘bout how we can help Voynar get back on its feet." 

"Agreed," she lied again without batting an eyelash. 

It was obvious that he expected his way to be clear now that Aron was no longer alive but she wasn't about to give in to him. Especially now that she had seen how bossy he could be and at that moment there was nothing sympathetic about him anymore. She would sooner go to the Ares and join them than join forces with Cayden Kavanagh who she thought knew what he was up to. 

He gave her a satisfied wink before leaning forward and forcing a gentle almost cautious kiss on her which she hesitantly returned. 

Then he whispered, “Take good care of yerself." 

Only after she had nodded did he get up say goodbye and leave the building. She watched him through a gap in the curtains with a queasy feeling in her stomach as he walked down the street and disappeared around the corner. 

Almost distraught she went down to the kitchen and opened a jar of preserved fruit, ate her breakfast standing and thought about what Cayden had said to her. She had seen that he was already pursuing a plan to save Voynar and for which he certainly wouldn't need her. Nobody would control her, not even the curse of the Virtheriā could take possession of her, and if she ever met death, she would welcome it with open arms. 

Cayden Kavanagh had been rude to her and she hoped he wasn't coming back here to trail her or anything. 

"I miss you so much," she whispered to the heavens swallowing a few times to keep from crying before heading outside to feed Crispin. 

Despite the cold she began to pile up a small pile of wood, trembling and with clammy fingers, she kept taking logs from the firewood store and putting them on top of the pile until it was finally big enough. Then she went inside and took the wrapped bodies of her family one by one, placed them on the pile before pausing and staring at the sheets in silence for a moment. 

“Voy, bless my parents and brother, they used to pray regularly in Voynar Cathedral all their lives. I truly was less conscientious, but, in their memory, I wish a proper burial for my family.” 

She prayed to the god of winter, the patron god of the Voynarians after whom their homeland was named. Voynar meant under the protection of Voy. Using two flints, she lit a torch she had wrapped, soaked in alcohol from her father's parlour, and brought it to the pile of wood which then also caught fire and her family would be handed over to the ancestors. 

After the funeral, she explored the surrounding buildings on foot, searching the cellars and pantries for food, and putting everything that was still edible into the large bag she carried with her. 

With her sizable haul of food, she went back to the Blake estate at dusk. She would last at least a week on the food she found today, even if it was just more jars and a varied diet looked different. Eventually, she would move somewhere where she could grow some vegetables and hunt to support herself but until she found the right place that would have to wait. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

A week later, the burns and injuries on Meyja's arm had healed reasonably well, even if the scars would look terrible. To her relief, Cayden Kavanagh hadn't reappeared but seemed to comply with her request and left her alone. 

She had spent the days either wandering around the city, looking for something to eat, or sitting in the library reading all sorts of books that might be useful to her later. 

Now she almost felt like a scholar, she knew about the herbs that grew in the Ice Lands, knew their benefits and effects when it came to injuries, and general physical well-being. 

The time since Ethan had supposedly raped her, she had been very reserved about food as she had been too afraid of going to the latrine again. She imagined that the strained muscle would still tear, if she didn't restrain herself. Her stomach was bloated and hard when she pressed against it, it hurt inside, so she decided to go herb gathering. Bloodroot was an effective remedy for indigestion she had read that and memorised the descriptions and drawings that went with it. With a small sickle and a basket, she trudged through the forest and looked around for the plant she was looking for which she finally discovered under a tree, the reddish leaves betraying the soothing roots underground. Luckily, it had thawed after the snowfall and finding herbs wasn't too difficult for a layman like her. Meyja carefully dug in the ground until she had dug up the entire growth then she cut off the useless leaves and put the remaining roots in her basket. She did the same thing with three more plants then made her way back into the property. 

There she fetched a bucket of water from the well and washed the Bloodroot carefully before cutting the thick roots into small slices and boiling them in a pot with some water. She poured the brew into a mug and sipped it carefully, it tasted disgustingly bitter and her entire mouth felt furry but the effect was not long in coming. 

She hastily put down the almost empty drinking vessel and ran through the kitchen door into the open already opening her trousers and having arrived in the latrine she immediately threw herself onto the wooden seat. 

Groaning and in severe cramps she relieved herself then left the latrine sweating and looked up at the sky. 

"If I'm not pathetic then I don't know what is." 

Aron didn't answer but she knew that he would have laughed if he had seen her. 

Although she felt almost at home now she wouldn't be able to stay on her family's estate, the settlement was too far north to grow any vegetables and she still had to worry about her supplies after all she couldn't be off forever live in the mason jars. 

So, she went back to the library and gathered her stuff, put everything in a big bag, and then pulled out an old map of the kingdom. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Safest would be a safe house in Waldskorn, the town was far to the south behind a mountain range and far enough from the city and the wall that Cayden wouldn't show up there anytime soon. Talheym was also a possibility but it was there she had seen the two Virtheriā when she arrived in the Ice Lands, so she did not wish to meet them again. 

The route would take her halfway across the kingdom, the Blake estate being in the southeast quarter of the city but she would be at Waldskorn within a few hours, so she hoped. 

Satisfied with her plan, she rolled up the parchment, and put it in her pocket then looked around the library again. “See you soon." 

She shouldered her bag and went out to her grey stallion bridling him and hoisting the saddle onto his back before leading the animal onto the road and mounting. Gently she pressed her heels into the horse's flanks and steered him to the northeast, soon she had left the city behind and rode on southwards. 

Many hours later, she reined in Crispin until he stopped and peered through the darkness at the town she had chosen as her new home. She had never been there and while she risked being spotted, if she approached the prospect of finding a well-stocked pantry was extremely tempting. Her provisions were almost gone. Only one jar of sausage and one of vegetables left, so she urgently needed to find something to eat or she would starve to death soon. 

It was snowing again, it had been clear for a whole week, but now the sky had opened, and thick white snowflakes kept falling on her. 

After another half hour of observing, dusk set in and Meyja, tired and cold, rode towards the village. Directly ahead were the sprawling stables where she housed, fed, and watered Crispin, then walked toward a palatial estate, and gazed up at the mansion for a moment. The architectural style typical of Voynar was also found here the half-timbered facade was built with wide wooden beams in order to be able to bear the weight of the roof. 

She slowly climbed the steps leading up to the entrance and pushed one of the wings which opened silently and she eased into the dark building before closing the door and looking around. Even though it was so dark, she recognised the shadowy interior. She walked quietly through the wide entrance hall and examined two rooms branching off it, taking a particularly careful look around the kitchen. A door led to the pantry and she descended into the great room where she lit one of the lanterns and began searching for food. 

Contrary to her expectations, she did not find a morsel of food. That meant someone had already been here and she felt queasy as she walked between the shelves. 

Nevertheless, she discovered a few bottles of schnapps and took one of them. The contents looked like ghost wine; the liquid shone blueish towards her when she held the glass container up to the light. But liquor alone wasn't enough to survive so if she couldn't find some food in one of the other buildings, she would have to make her way to Talheym tomorrow. Meyja put out the flame of the lantern and went up the stairs to leave the building again but in the entrance hall she was taken aback. 

When she heard soft voices, she stopped, and listened startled. She couldn't understand the spoken words but they seemed to come from an upstairs room. Silently she crept up the stairs and the conversation grew louder, carefully peering into the unlocked room for a second, it took only a moment to see the three seated in the room. Two humans and a black Virtherion who were completely unknown to her spoke quietly to each other but loud enough for her to make out the words. 

"Amelia, ya can’t do that. After all, we can’t just go to Kavanagh and make peace,” one of the men was saying. 

A rough female voice replied, “Then we'll just wait for a better opportunity. I didn' say ya really should do it. It was just an idea for later, Logan." 

It was probably a Virtheria called Amelia and Logan was one of the humans. 

"We shouldn' argue, it doesn' make sense. Directin’ the aggression against each other and no’ against the undead only sows doubts and discord that we should avoid,” remarked the third voice which must have belonged to the other man. 

"Listen, listen… He spoke," Amelia laughed and Logan joined in. 

Meyja's stomach rumbled loudly, she backed away hastily, and closed her eyes hoping that the three of them hadn't heard her. 

"There wus sumthin’..." Amelia murmured. 

Meyja heard the rustling of fabric and the scratching of claws on the wooden floor. 

The Virtheria came in her direction, cursing silently Meyja crept into an unfamiliar room, and leaned the door before hiding behind a bookshelf. 

A minute later, she heard noises from the door and pressed herself against the wall holding her breath and listening anxiously. It was almost a low ominous whisper and before she knew what was happening a glowing black unidentifiable thing appeared in front of her. It was like a fog and Meyja instinctively felt that touching it would result in unimaginable pain, so she stopped and stared into the strange emptiness that floated right in front of her face and whispered incessantly. The soft unintelligible voice echoed in her head and she had great difficulty not groaning at the pressure that suddenly seemed to build up in her skull. 

"Come out, ya have no chance of escapin’," Amelia barked from the direction of the door. 

Meyja was frozen with fear, unable to move, she just kept staring at the strange mist that still threatened her. 

"There are three of us and yah’re alone, be reasonable," Logan added calmly. 

Meyja swallowed. “Then take this thing away." 

A moment later, the fog disappeared and Meyja took a deep breath before stepping out from behind the shelf. 

"Well, look at that. Who we got there? A Kavanagh spy lookin’ for information, I assume,” the Virtheria said looking the intruder up and down with her piercing gaze. 

All three of them stood in the entrance and cut off her escape route looking down at Meyja with hostility who stood there frozen and intimidated. 

"Wot are ya lookin’ for here?" Logan demanded. 

"I'm not a spy I was looking for something to eat and a place to sleep for the night," Meyja explained reluctantly as her stomach growled its approval loudly and she hastily pressed a fist on her stomach. 

"Seems to be true, at least about the food," remarked the third. 

"Yah're so gullible, Lyam," Amelia replied, glaring at him before shifting her gaze back to Meyja. "Come on, let's gab a little now." 

When she didn't move, Logan approached Meyja and grabbed her arm to lead her outside. 

"Hey! Take it easy, I'm not running away,” she protested. 

Logan replied, "I'd rather play it safe." 

He led her into the dining room and pushed her into a chair at the long table then the three sat around her. 

"Now tell me why are ya here?" Amelia asked. 

"As I said before I was looking for a place to stay and food," Meyja replied. 

"Right here?" Lyam remarked. 

"Yes, right here," Meyja replied impatiently. 

"Why here?" Logan wanted to know. 

"Why not? I didn't want to stay in Voynar anymore that's why I came here. What is reprehensible about that?” Meyja asked back. 

"Where ya come from? And are ya a Virtheria?” came the next question from Amelia again. 

Meyja was getting tired of being squeezed by the strangers but when she wanted to get up, Logan pushed her back onto the chair. “Sit down. We're not done with ya yet,” he growled. 

"Just let me go. I don't want anything bad for you and I'll just disappear again as if nothing had happened, I promise," Meyja asked. 

"Answer my question," Amelia demanded again. 

"As already said. So far, I've been in Voynar and no I'm not a Virtheria", Meyja murmured resignedly. 

They wouldn't just let her go like that; she was sure of that now. 

"Wot does a woman do alone in the Ice Lands?" Amelia asked. 

"What am I supposed to do here? I'm trying to survive and I was looking for something to eat," Meyja admitted again. 

"Why?", Logan now wanted to know. 

"Why?" Meyja echoed. "Because you have to eat, if you don't want to starve." 

The three exchanged brief glances, finally Lyam asked, “Did anyone follow ya here?" 

"Not that I know of," Meyja replied truthfully. "But who should be chasing me?" 

"Well... maybe Kavanagh," Amelia piped up again. 

Meyja lied, “I don't know any Kavanagh. At least not personally.” 

"We have sumthin’ to fear from anyone who knows the fact that we're here," Lyam replied. 

Amelia gave him a warning look. "Be quiet. That does no’ concern her." 

"Kavanagh is looking for you, isn't he?" Meyja now asked. 

Logan shook his head and replied, “No, we aren’ on his list. But until we know how trusting yah’re, ya won' know ‘bout us." 

"I'm not interested in you. Apart from your first name and your current whereabouts I don't know anything and I don't want to know anything. All I want is food and a place to stay, nothing more. I'll go my own way and let you do whatever you want, I don't really care," Meyja promised. 

"Impossible. Tell us everythin’ that has to do with ya and Voynar or ya won' be goin’ anywhere anymore,” Amelia growled. 

“I was born there. Voynar is deserted and because I couldn't find anything to eat there I came here”, Meyja repeated. 

"Wot kind are ya? And wot's yer name, anyway?” Amelia wanted to know. 

"My name is Meyja and my job... well... you could call me a mercenary," Meyja replied. 

Logan said, “I'm a mercenary, too." 

"Then we have something in common. How nice,” Meyja remarked dryly. Her stomach was growling again and she pressed a hand on it again to silence it. 

"I think I'll get us sumthin’ to eat first. Don' tear her apart in the meantime," Logan said looking at the Virtheria with a smile. 

"We shall see..." Amelia growled softly. 

"Ya really look frozen. I believe yer story. But tell us wot kind of mercenary are ya?” Lyam asked. 

"Assassin, murderer, bounty hunter. Call it what you want,” Meyja answered with an indifferent undertone in her voice. 

"Scum," Amelia remarked snidely. 

"I don't have to listen to that from someone like you," Meyja shot back and stared at the furry woman hostilely.  

"Am I scum, too, Amelia?" Logan asked with a grin who had just returned with a platter full of different dishes and sat down at the table again. 

"No, but yah're no’ a sneaky assassin either," Amelia replied sweetly pulling up her lips. She was grinning as well but it didn't have the amusing effect it actually disfigured the hairy face. 

Logan smiled and pushed the plate full of fragrant food into the middle of the table while Meyja's mouth watered. The three grabbed hungrily but she held back as she still wasn’t trusting the strangers. 

"Wot? Are ya afraid we want to poison ya?" Logan asked with a grin. 

"Don' worry, Meyja. We’d niver do that,” Lyam said shoving a large chunk of meat into his mouth. 

He had slightly longer blond hair and a full beard, gave Amelia a challenging look, and raised his eyebrows with a grin when she looked at him. 

"For real? Is that necessary?” Amelia moaned and when Lyam nodded, she turned back into a human. 

She was pretty, had light blonde hair that she wore up in a bun, and she looked warily at the unwelcome stranger. 

"Only ‘cause of ya," she said in Meyja’s direction and slowly began to eat. 

"Let's be polite. After all, Logan eats normally, too,” Lyam said with a wink. 

Logan nodded and pushed the serving plate right in front of Meyja. 

"Now eat, everythin’ is fine with that. Nobody wants to poison ya,” he said kindly. 

Meyja hesitantly grabbed a leg of meat but sniffed it before she bit into it. "Thank ya," she murmured. 

She glanced at Logan and wondered if he was a Virtherion, too, Lyam's statement suggested so. Logan had long white-blond hair that he wore shaved down the left side, his beard growing along the edge of his broad jaw. Like Lyam he was muscular but he didn't look like an assassin, so he had to be a different kind of mercenary. He also didn't have any weapons so Meyja didn't have any clues and didn't dare to ask. "I don' like to eat in my non-human form, it's so barbaric," Lyam said amusedly in Meyja's direction who just shrugged and continued eating. 

She didn't care what they looked like if she knew where she was. As for Logan, she was a little unsure, it was very difficult for her to judge him. Of all those present Amelia was the most dangerous. Meyja didn't know how to counter magic, if there was a fight. Lyam was peaceful and diplomatic, Logan also seemed friendly almost giving the impression that he had a thing for his fellow mercenary. 

"Ya like it?" Logan asked and Meyja nodded silently. 

Apparently, he caught her look. "Yah're probably wonderin’ if I'm also a Virtherion, ain't ya?" 

"To be honest, I don't care. I'm just cautious and like to know who I'm up against in terms of… shall we say… physical superiority,” she replied. 

Logan grinned broadly. “I'm superior to ya in any way, even in my human form." 

"I doubt it," she replied promptly. 

Amelia frowned but said nothing, Lyam smirked and stayed silent as well. 

"Oho, sumone is very sure of herself." Logan laughed. 

"I know about my abilities; it has nothing to do with conviction. Besides, I'm not proud of being an assassin even though I'm good at it," Meyja replied. 

"How come ya don' have an accent?" Amelia asked. 

"I lived in Sharaya for quite a while and only came back to my homeland a few weeks ago," Meyja replied. 

"Tell us all ‘bout it. Why did ya come back?” Amelia prodded. 

Meyja thought for a moment as she got into serious trouble with this question because she didn't want to mention Brick's gang and the Deathshade, so she decided to lie and only tell part of it. 

"Well... At some point, I realised that the capital of Jevarish doesn't hold much in store for someone like me. And it had been a few years which is why I decided to return home,” she lied. 

"Just like that?" Amelia asked. 

"Yes, just like that," Meyja lied again and tore the last piece of meat from the leg with her teeth. 

"Would ya please wait outside for a moment? I'd like to gab to the others in private,” Logan pleaded. 

She nodded and walked back into the entrance hall, the black mist that Amelia seemed to be summoning with a dark murmur followed Meyja, frustrating the plan to leave. Sitting on the wide staircase, she waited a little impatiently to be called again. The voices of the three Virtheriā echoed softly down to her, but she could not understand what they were talking about, so she got up again and started to approach the passage. However, the fog cut her off and she let herself sink back onto the steps. 

"Crap," she growled darkly. 

A few minutes later, Logan appeared behind her and the fog was just dissipating into nothing. 

"A’ight, ya may come back in," Logan said smirking. 

She got up and followed him back to the table although she was sure that a decision had not just been made about whether to kill her or let her live, she was still nervous. 

Amelia looked at Meyja for a few seconds. "Meyja, we just voted on wot to do with ya. And the decision wus made to let ya in, if ya agreed no’ to tell anyone.” 

"In what matter?“ Meyja asked somewhat confused. 

Amelia rolled her eyes while Lyam replied, “Our business." 

"And what if I don't want to? What if I just want to go for a walk and go my own way?” Meyja wanted to know. 

"Then we'll stop ya," Amelia replied. 

Meyja thought for a moment, but she longed for a community and for someone she could talk to. It was also safer since the three didn't want anything to do with Kavanagh and could keep him off her back. 

So, she agreed, “I swear I'll never say a word to anyone." 

Logan smiled again and Amelia nodded before she began to explain, “Well, we are here in Waldskorn ‘cause we want our homeland back. The undead have been up to mischief for far too long and since Kavanagh has no interest in includin’ the Virtheriā in his new Voynar, we've made that our mission. Ya said earlier ya were a capable woman, so we decided to add ya to our ranks. Even if it is also yer own home, ya could make a decisive contribution by workin’ with us.” 

"What is this supposed to look like? What do I have to do?” she wanted to know. 

Logan replied, “We monitor the undead that are in front of the wall. It seems they're up to sumthin’ but we don' know wot it is. As an assassin, ya should also be able to perform sum less dangerous spy actions. We always play it safe, so we don’ just send ya sumwhere and leave ya alone with the task but there has to be concrete evidence and then ya have all of our backin’.” 

Amelia nodded. “Cayden Kavanagh must no’ know of our operations or he will charge us all with treason and execute us as soon as he catches us. Therefore, everythin’ that is said or done here is absolutely secret and nobody – I stress nobody 

– is allowed to know anythin’ ‘bout it. Got it?" 

Meyja nodded again. “I have, don't worry." 

"Well, then ya can take her with ya now, Logan," Amelia said firmly and stood up. 

"It wus nice to have made yer acquaintance," Lyam said with a smile and shook hands with Meyja. 

She chimed in and returned Amelia's nod of farewell. 

After Amelia and Lyam left she looked at Logan and asked, “Take away? Where to?" 

"Outwards. We live in the houses of Waldskorn." He also got up and went with her down the stairs and through the entrance hall to the outside. "Ya have a horse?" 

"Yes, it's in the stable in front of the village," she answered. 

"Well, we meet here almost every day, so ya can take it to one of the other stables tomorrow. But tonight, yah'd better come with me immediately," he said with a smile. 

"All right," she replied curtly. 

She followed him through the door into the open and walked with him through the nocturnal streets. In a small square Logan finally stopped and spread his arms. 

"Well, pick one of these humble dwellings. Except for that.” He pointed to one of the buildings. "That’s where Amelia lives." 

She nodded and replied, “I don't care as long as it's dry and there's a fireplace." 

“They are all more or less dry. And they all have a fireplace, too. But that behind ya has sum other advantages,” he remarked and led her towards the entrance. 

When they entered Meyja looked around in amazement, it seemed to have been something like a taproom. Downstairs was a counter with a fireplace behind it and many liquor bottles on it, a table with a few chairs on one side and a long bench on the other was also here. 

"Take a look around I'll be waitin’ outside for so lon’." Logan said with a wink and left. 

A little hesitantly she climbed the stairs and looked around the upper floor, there also was a fireplace and a large bed. She put down her bag she had been carrying over her shoulder and then went out to Logan. 

He was leaning against a fence opposite the entrance and was smoking. As she stepped out the door he asked, “Wot are ya sayin’?" 

"It's nice. If nobody has nothing against it, I'll stay here,” she answered and cheekily took the cigarette from his hand, drew on it herself, and exhaled with relish. 

Then she gave him back the smouldering stalk and murmured, “Too bad." She leaned against the fence next to him and returned his puzzled look. 

"Wot's too bad?" he wanted to know. 

"Well, I just thought you might smoke Philos," she said with a smile. 

"Philosopher’s herb? I'm no’ a king to throw my money out the window. Just tell me ya bought this stuff at some point?” he wanted to know. 

"I rarely didn't have one in the house when I was in Sharaya," she confessed. 

Logan looked at her in disbelief and was silent for a moment before saying, “This is insane. Ya could certainly have bought half the city for that number of Crowns.” 

"What am I supposed to do with half Sharaya, if I don't have anything to smoke then?" she asked amused. 

She knew he was exaggerating, although Philos was extremely expensive, she could have bought at most a house or two with the amount of gold she had invested over time. But she hadn't felt the need to live in a whole house, the flat had been nice. 

It had been her home – together with Aron. 

"Shall I show ya where I live?" Logan asked after flicking away the last of his cigarette. 

After Meyja had nodded, he pushed himself off the fence, and led her down the road out of Waldskorn towards the cemetery which was a bit off. 

There was a small building there, the door of which Logan unlocked then he stepped in front of her and spread his arms again before saying solemnly, “And this is where I live. Take a seat. Ya want beer?” 

"Gladly," Meyja answered and looked around. 

There was only this one room, in it was a table with two chairs, a bed, and a sailor's chest at the foot of it. There was a fire burning in the hearth so he couldn't have been gone long. She strolled over to the table and sat down, Logan placed a bottle of beer in front of her and toasted her with his. 

"To a new champion for our cause," he said with a smile and clinked glasses with her. 

Then he lit the lantern that was on the table and rolled another cigarette. "Want one, too?" 

Meyja nodded reluctantly and thanked him when he handed her the cigarette, she pushed the cigarette between her lips and lit it with the help of the lantern. Normally she would have been uncomfortable walking into a stranger’s house, but now she didn't care, she was just glad to have some company. Also, Logan didn't give the impression of being up to anything, but seemed like a thoroughly decent man. 

Logan leaned back and smoked with pleasure, for a moment he eyed the young woman sitting across from him. “Tell me sumthin’ ‘bout yerself." 

"What am I supposed to tell you? I was an assassin in Sharaya now I'm back home in the Ice Lands,” she said evasively and took a drag on her cigarette. 

"Do ya have family?" he wanted to know. 

"I don't think anyone is alive anymore. And you?” she asked back. 

He nodded and said softly, “A sister, but I haven' seen her for a lon’ time. She is also involved here but has other duties to attend to. She and Lyam are shamans, in fact he wus her student for a while. But he has no idea where she is either.” 

“How many are there actually?” Meyja wanted to know and took a sip of beer. 

"Well, Amelia is sort of our leader, then there's Lyam and my sister Chloe, ya... and me. Oh yes, I nearly forgot Adam,” he said with a smile. "Adam ain’ a Voynarian but is also from Sharaya." 

"I'm flabbergasted since there are so many of us, we should have rebuilt Voynar long ago," she remarked ironically. 

Logan laughed and replied, “Kavanagh makes life difficult for us every now and then. So, it's goin’ to take a while I guess.” 

"What do you have to do with Kavanagh? Why is he standing in your way?” Meyja asked. 

Logan frowned. “He has his own agenda. It also has sumthin’ to do with the Ares far as I'm aware. Apparently, he doesn' like the fact that they demanded their right to have a say. How so?" 

"Just out of curiosity," she admitted. "What do you usually eat?" 

He nodded briefly. “Most of our food is organised by Lyam and we also grow sum vegetables in a field here in Waldskorn and there are sum apple trees. But since we have another winter, we can’t harvest anythin’ and limit ourselves to huntin’.” 

"And so, you are a mercenary. Of what kind?” she wanted to know. 

“Well… I joined the army at a youn’ age like many my age. There I completed basic trainin’ and worked for another year as a private. The pay was low and the service itself was borin’ and uninterestin’. So, I retired from the army and worked as a guard for various people who needed protection and who needed my services more than the army. The pay was better, too, but I didn' just do it for the money. I did it out of conviction. It was a time of peace and I just couldn' make sense of such a huge army. The peace didn' last lon’, however, and I wus attacked and bitten by a Virtherion one evenin’ outside the home of a family I promised to protect. I wus able to hurt him, too, and he fled but shortly after that I was one myself.” 

She nodded concerned. 

So, he was a swordsman, like all the men who had served in the army, and she not only decided to not tell him about her work as an assassin, but not to tell him anything anymore. She didn't know why she felt that way because actually Logan was quite personable and friendly had a really engaging personality and a good heart. Nevertheless, she pushed aside any self-doubt and closed her heart so that he wouldn't even think of sneaking inside. 

Meyja drained her beer, stifled a yawn, and got up. "I was very pleased, but I'd like to retire now, if you don't mind." 

Rising as well, albeit somewhat surprised at the sudden departure, he replied, “Of course. Ya know where I live. Should anythin’ happen, don' hesitate to contact me. I'll pick ya up tomorrow evenin’ and take ya to the estate then ya can pick up yer horse and brin’ it here on the way back." 

"All right, thanks for the hospitality," she thanked him. 

"No problem, yah're welcome," he dismissed with a smile then he brought her to the door locked it behind her and Meyja went back the way. 

Once in her new abode, she bolted the door, and took one of the liquor bottles upstairs where she sat on the bed and drank herself crying uncontrollably. 

"I miss you so much... I can’t take it anymore..." she whispered sobbing and curled up. A little later she fell asleep. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Meyja woke up to a knock. She sat up, hastily rubbing her eyes as she remembered she was on a watch, and rushed out of bed.
'Damned...', she thought.
Logan’s voice came through the front door inaudible and she called out, “Wait, I'm on my way!"
She had to pick up her clothes from the floor where she had thrown them carelessly the night before. She hastily slipped into her pants, took the rest in her hand at first, and ran down the stairs.
"Come in, but keep yer eyes closed," she asked after unlocking the door.
"A’ight," Logan answered and blindly felt his way along the wall into the house.
"Sorry, I overslept." She turned her back on him and slipped on her boots.
He smiled with his eyes still closed. "It's okay we're very early. Take yer time."
She had assumed her shirt was still tucked into the leather vest but it wasn't there.
"Damn."
Logan frowned and asked, “Why? Is that no’ good?"
"No, I didn' mean ya at all," she answered and darted back up the stairs to look for the missing piece of clothing.
Logan opened his eyes as her footsteps receded. “Are ya a’ight?"
"Yeah, I just can’t find my shirt. And the others aren' really fresh anymore,” she retorted.
It rumbled loudly on the upper floor.
"Meyja, wot ya doin’ up there?" he asked laughing and looked around.
"I'm lookin’ for that damned piece of cloth!" she yelled in exasperation.
"Is it maybe this down here?" he picked up an almost tiny black linen shirt from the banister, eyeing it in disbelief, unable to believe she could fit in there.
"Are yer eyes closed?" she asked a little calmer before covering her chest with her hands and slowly walking down the stairs.
"They are." Logan was standing at the foot of the stairs, holding out the shirt she was looking for by his outstretched arm, his eyelids closed obediently.
"That's it, thanks," she murmured, taking the fabric from his hand, and slipping it on quickly. "Ya can open ‘em again."
He smiled at her, but she lowered her head to the floor and slouched her shoulders, exhaling audibly as she held up a leather strap.
"Wot's that?" he asked confused.
"My chest strap in which I carry the daggers. I forgot ‘bout it in all the excitement.
Shite..." she explained with a sigh.
He gently pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. "Take it easy there's no need to rush. Get dressed in peace, I'll wait for ya."
"Thank ya," she whispered undressing once more after he walked out.
With the chest strap against her bare skin, she got dressed again, tied her braid neatly, and then followed him outside.
As always Logan waited leaning against the fence and handed her a cigarette, he held another in his other hand which was already lit.
"Thanks very much. Good mornin’ first of all,” she said embarrassed and kissed him lightly on the mouth, she lit her cigarette, and leaned against the fence next to him.
"Good mornin’ to ya, too. Did ya sleep well?” he replied and looked at her.
"Nothin’ special. How ‘bout ya?” She inhaled the smoke.
He shook his head gently. “Not really. Sleep took a lon’ time to find me."
They stood side by side in silence and smoked while he held her hand. After Meyja had also flicked away her glowing butt, they saddled their horses, and left Waldskorn in south-east direction.
Well beyond the edge of the forest they tied up their horses and continued on foot until they reached the forest clearing where the undead were said to gather.
On top of a hill, they crouched on the ground behind a bush and Logan pulled his monocular out of his pocket, observing the clearing, and the path that led to the wall.
"Nothin’ to see," he murmured, lowering the monocular.
They made themselves as comfortable as possible, Logan sat cross-legged and
Meyja lay down on the fur she had brought with her, her gaze directed to the sky.
A few more silent minutes passed before he asked softly, “When are ya goin’ to tell the others?"
"Wot ya mean?" She acted clueless even though she knew he wouldn't budge.
"That ya know Kavanagh and that we... well... are a couple," he murmured, peering through the scope again.
"Logan... To be honest, I didn' intend to reveal the latter any time soon... But that I know Kavanagh I'll confess at the next meeting. Even if I will probably destroy sum trust with it.”
As she glanced at him, he put the telescope back in the snow, and nodded. “Actually, our connection is none of their business. But ya are goin’ to betray their trust, yah’re right.” He looked down at her softly.
An uncomfortable tug ran through her gut, the confidence he had in her made her feel even more guilty. "Ya know... I..." Meyja began but then she broke off and shook her head.
"Ya... wot?" He lay down next to her on the fur and looked at her inquiringly.
'Don't say a word about it... He'll use it against you...', she thought.
Avoiding his gaze. “Nothin’, it's okay. I just had a thought.” The voice had strangely stopped her from opening to him. 
Logan gently turned her head towards him with one hand, kissed her tenderly on the lips, and she kissed back. Only when he put his hand on her stomach and began to caress her, did she break away from him. 
"I'd like to take it slow... very slow," she whispered apologetically. 
"Take as much time as ya need. As I said nothin’ is further from my mind than to harass you.” He took his hand from her. 
He just smiled at her for a few seconds then grabbed the monocular again and surveyed the area, hastily scrambling to his feet, and kneeling behind the bush. 
"There they are," he said excitedly. 
Meyja also got up quickly and squatted down next to him. "How many?" 
"Three. They are headin’ towards the clearin’.” Logan handed her the monocular. 
She brought the object to her eye, and, after a short search, saw the three undead walking through the forest at a leisurely pace, the putrid flesh partially hanging loose from their bones, and the clothing also seemed to be almost rotten. 
"Wot do we do now?" she asked quietly and lowered the apparatus after the undead had stopped in the clearing and seemed to be talking. 
"We'll wait for them to leave. Then we'll go home ourselves,” he said and looked at her seriously. "I'm no’ comfortable with the thought of ya wantin’ to go there. That’s bloody risky.” 
"I know, but sumone has to do it," she retorted. 
That was the end of it for her but Logan shook his head. "No, ya are under no obligation to risk yer life. If ya just say no, that’s it. Then we will wipe them out and the issue will be closed.” 
“Ya know yerself that where they come from there are many more of ‘em. And if we kill ‘em, more will soon appear, and they've been warned. It would be downright foolish to challenge Destrothos in this way,” she dismissed his objections. 
He knew she was right, silently taking the monocular from her hand, and looked through it. “There. They're leavin’ again," he reported a brief time later. 
The undead headed back the way they had come. When they were out of sight, Logan got up, and pocketed the monocular. 
Meyja who had already been laying on the fur again also rose to her feet. "Wot ya up to today?" 
"Nothin’ specific. Would ya like to come to my place?” he asked and she nodded. 
He started to move and she caught up with him, grabbing his hand and smiling sheepishly when he looked at her happily. Her heart was sinking, she had really grown fond of Logan in the time they had spent together so much, and it felt so wrong to lie to him. Something had to happen for it to work between them, it just couldn't go on like this, even though they had only gotten so close yesterday. Today she was sure that there were only two options, either she had to dump him, or she had to tell him the truth and quickly. In any case, she wouldn't be able to live with this feeling of dishonesty much longer, every second her guilty conscience pressed her more to the ground, stole her breath, and any clear thoughts. 
When they were back in Waldskorn they unsaddled and tended to their horses. They exited the barn and Logan followed the road to the left, instead of turning right to his home. 
"I don' think I have to tell ya that yer house is in the other direction," Meyja remarked. 
He grinned. "No, ya do no’ have to. But I want to show ya sumthin’ else.” 
She nodded silently and followed him silently through half the town which was already dusk until they reached the part of Waldskorn that had been destroyed by fire. Charred black beams protruded from the remains of the buildings and Logan picked his way between the stone blocks that had once been part of the walls. 
Meyja looked around, couldn't see anything that would have been of interest to her, but at some point, Logan stopped and pointed to the ruins of a house that had been on the outskirts of town. 
"Here it is," he remarked quietly. "My former home." 
Now she understood why he had brought her here. "How lon’ have ya lived here?" 
"’Til I went into the army. I left Chloe and my old masters here. I wus no’ there when the Virtheriā came and mortally wounded all three. Chloe's body was stron’ enough for her to stay alive lon’ enough to be transformed, but by that time my parents were already dead. If those beasts hadn' infected her, my sister wouldn' be alive either, so that wus it with the curse also something good. Well… Figuratively…” Logan’s voice trailed off to a murmur. 
"Almost like me. Even though I had one more brother who wus also killed,” she answered softly. 
"Wot happened?" he wanted to know. 
“They came at night when we were sleepin’. I heard my parents’ dyin’ screams, woke up the younger of my two brothers, and we fled to the library to my older brother. We barricaded ourselves there, but they broke through the door, and we couldn't defend ourselves. The younger one was killed when he stood protectively in front of me, he looked at me before he died.” Meyja swallowed before she could continue. "As one of the two beasts came towards me, I already thought it was over. However, my older brother managed to flee the attackers, but he was bitten in the process. Then he made me flee because sumhow he already knew what was goin’ to happen to him. And I left him. That wus the hardest decision of my life ‘cause I loved him more than anythin’. From then on, I wus alone. How I managed to get out of Voynar and make my way all the way to the bluffs I don' remember. I didn' even have a horse, just a fur coat and a dagger. One of the Ares met me at the bay and took me to their village from where I wus taken away the next mornin’.” 
"I'm very sorry, sweetheart," Logan murmured in concern. 
She looked at him and said sadly, "I'm sorry ‘bout yer family as well." Then she shrugged, sighed, and walked towards the house. 
The next moment Logan jumped her from behind and threw her over so they both sprawled in the snow where he released her so she could get up. 
"Excuse me... The well..." he explained while he got up again. He pointed to the hole in the ground that had previously been completely covered with snow and which he brought to light with a kick. "Ya couldn' see it, but I still knew it wus there." 
Meyja was a little subdued and nodded. "Thanks. I probably really would have fallen in.” 
"The cover must have rotted." Logan took one of the wooden planks laying around which he carefully placed over the shaft. 
"Or burned," she added, grabbing one of the boards as well. 
Logan nodded and they continued until the well was no longer an immediate threat. Then she looked at him with flushed cheeks and he took her by the hand walking with her into the ruins of the building where he had spent his childhood. There he kept pointing to corners and described to her so vividly what it all looked like that she could even picture Logan’s mother standing at the stove and cooking. 
"My mother niver cooked at least no’ after I wus born," Meyja murmured after they had finished. 
"I guess ya had servants who did all that," Logan replied, stepping up behind her, and wrapped his strong arms around her body. 
She leaned against him and nodded. “Maids for the house and servants for the stable. Plus, all the teachers who were responsible for my education.” 
"How many different teachers did ya have?" Logan wanted to know. 
"I don’ know. One for readin’ and writin’, one for sewin’, one for embroidery. An etiquette teacher, a history teacher, a scholar who taught me about the gods and took me to the cathedral where I learned how to behave during prayers and who taught me to read the night sky to know the time of the year to determine. A cookin’ teacher... I really hated her and I guess she hated me no less. A teacher who taught me how to dance, another how to work at the table…” she listed. 
Logan interrupted her laughing. "Now if ya say you had sumone who taught ya how to do yer toilet, I'll call yer parents crazy." 
"There really wus. He taught me proper personal hygiene,” she noted giggling. 
"Yah’re jokin’, aren' ya?" he asked looking down at her in disbelief. 
She shook her head. "No, that's no’ a joke. I even had to learn how to defecate without makin’ a sound. After all, I wus a lady and sumone could have heard me.” 
"I knew some aristocrats missed sum marbles, but that's really beyond good and bad," he said. 
"We girls just had to be perfect for marriage and the social responsibilities that came with it," she murmured sombrely. 
"Ya are perfect just the way ya are. Whether ya make noise when ya sit on the latrine or no’, I don't care at all,” he answered softly and turned her around. "Fart and belch as much as ya want, ya won' get rid of me." 
She lifted her left foot and noisily dropped one. "I've always wanted to do that." 
Logan roared with laughter and picked her up off the floor, kissed her deeply on the mouth and she wrapped her arms around his neck holding on to him as she kissed back. 
"Wait..." he mumbled and sniffed. "Oh no, get out of here!" 
He set her down hastily and took her by the hand, together they ran laughing through the ruins back to the intact part of the city. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Meyja had been listening in silence the whole time, but when Logan said the last sentence, she couldn't help but sob. Aron had used almost the same words when he revealed his feelings to her, even if he hadn't been that detailed. The basic statement was the same. And these were the very qualities she could hardly change, never let anyone down or never laugh again, let alone wilfully reverse the impression she was making. Even the scars hadn't disfigured her enough to make her unappealing to look at and she couldn't get stupid that easily either. Her competence alone she could destroy, but that would probably never be enough. She would be forever doomed to be a walking object of attraction for men. There were benefits to all of this; for she could manipulate people, if she wanted to, but she reserved the benefit of this for emergencies – after all it was highly immoral. 

Logan had stood up and was walking towards her, taking her hand to gently pull her to her feet, and enclose her in his arms. 

She didn't resist, snuggled up to him, and cried bitter tears while he was happy to hug her. 

Only when she still hadn't regained her composure after quite a while did he hold her a bit away and looked at her. "Meyja, why are ya cryin’ so much?" he asked softly, almost feeling a little stupid. 

Anger swept over her, anger at herself and anger at everything and everyone around her. "Why am I cryin’?! ‘Cause I am the way I am! I don't want to be this! Ya confess yer love to me with the same words that Aron used back then! And now he's dead and that is because of me! I brin’ only misfortune and ruin! If Ethan had just slashed me, I wouldn't have brought disaster upon so many people!" she yelled beside herself and pushed Logan away. 

Then she swung herself over the counter and smashed every bottle she could get her hands on. She didn't even feel that she had cut herself a few times. One glass container after the other slammed against the wall, the shards flew away in all directions, and the alcohol spattered like rain down the whole room. 

Logan who had initially ducked for cover now rushed towards her and held the still screaming Meyja. "I'm sorry! Please stop before ya hurt yerself!” 

But she was still completely beside herself and yelled, “I can’t take it anymore! And 

I don't want any more!" Then she sank to the ground and begged him crying, 

„Please... please just go... I can’t take it all..." 

"Meyja, calm down. We can gab ‘bout anythin’..." he asked desperately. 

She had just passed out in his arms and he carefully picked her up, carried her upstairs, and laid her on her bed. So that she wouldn't continue to run amok and end up hurting herself, he tied her to the bed frame with ropes before he looked down at her again and then hurriedly left the building. It was already day and he was hoping to find Lyam somewhere so he could help her. 

Logan ran over to Amelia's house and banged his fist on the door. "Amelia, open up! It's me, Logan!” As he waited for a sign of life, he realised he was crying, and hastily wiped away the tears. 

The door flew open and Amelia's golden wolf eyes regarded him with concern. 

"Wot happened, Logan?"  

"Is Lyam with ya? I need him! Now!” Logan urged and rushed past her into the house. 

The apprentice shaman was really here and looked up in shock when he saw the panicked man walking towards him. 

"Lyam, I need yer help! Sumthin’ is wron’ with Meyja! She freaked out in a second, screamin’, rampagin’, and hurting herself ‘til she passed out! I tied her to her bed so she can’t hurt herself! Please help her!” Logan begged still unconsciously screaming and Lyam got up immediately. 

Amelia followed the two men, together they ran over to Meyja who was still unconscious in bed. 

Lyam sat quietly on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on the unconscious woman’s forehead. "Tell me exactly wot happened, please. Did she smoke or drink anythin’? Maybe eaten as well?” the shaman asked gently. 

"We smoked Philos last night but that wus hours ago, I don't feel it anymore. When night fell, I saw her with a bottle of schnapps which I think is still by the fountain on the other side of the square. And we just drank sum of the booze she made herself. But I'm fine, I don't feel weird or uncomfortable apart from the situation of course... We haven' eaten anythin’ for a lon’ time as we were up all night. But she does that more often, she once said. And just now we were sittin’ down at the table and gabbin’, it was a bit emotional, she started cryin’ and I hugged her. She couldn' calm down and I asked her why she wus cryin’ so much. Then she freaked out, pushed me off her, started screamin’, and threw the bottles against the wall. I held her so she wouldn' hurt herself more ‘cause she was still upset and then she passed out." 

"Wot were ya gabbin’ ‘bout? How emotional wus it?” Lyam continued. 

He'd just checked the wounds, but they were just a few minor cuts, nothing to worry about. Even when he continued to examine her more carefully, he could not see any external abnormalities, Meyja's oral mucosa and tongue also appeared normal apart from the fact that she was unconscious and had terrible bad breath she appeared healthy. 

"Very emotional. I… told her I love her,” Logan mumbled closing his eyes. 

"Ya wot?!" Before anyone else could say anything, Amelia's lips curled up in a bizarre grin. “Ya charmer..." 

"Amelia, please... Logan, ya and Meyja seem to be close. Ya know of any bad experiences that might have traumatized her?” Lyam intervened again. 

"A trauma? Ya sure it couldn' be the liquor or sumthin’?” Logan asked puzzled. 

Lyam shook his head. “Her body appears perfectly healthy apart from minor injuries which are no’ serious. So, it might have sumthin’ to do with her spirit. Maybe ya accidentally triggered her dropout with yer words. But maybe Amelia should go outside ‘cause that would be a bit too personal. Unless Logan doesn' know ‘bout it." 

"Even if I do, I'll find out anyway, ya know me." Amelia took a seat in a chair that was in the corner. 

"She's okay," Lyam mumbled looking at Logan expectantly. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. “I don' know much… but she wus married for six years, the bastard raped and abused her. And she lost her fiancé ‘bout a year ago. After his death she returned to Voynar." 

"Wait... She wus raped for six years and then got engaged again?" Amelia asked. 

Logan nodded. "I thought it was a bit strange, too, but he wus like her soul mate." 

"Come outside with me, Logan. Then we can gab privately and Lyam can do his stuff,” Amelia said. 

"I can do it, just go," Lyam asked the still worried Logan and smiled encouragingly. "Thanks," he just murmured and followed Amelia outside. 

Meanwhile Lyam rummaged through the various herbs in his bag which he always carried with him, he opened the small tin full of Stinkweed and held it under Meyja's nose. As her eyelids began to flutter, he capped the container, and pocketed it while she slowly regained consciousness. 

"Lyam? You?” she whispered recognising the shaman. 

He nodded. "Yes, it's me. How are ya? Ya know wot happened?" 

"No’ exactly, no. Logan wus here and said sumthin’, I can’t remember more,” she answered evasively. 

"It made you freak out and riot, Meyja," Lyam explained calmly. 

"Possibly," she remarked curtly and looked away. 

The shaman sighed. “Ya don' know exactly wot happened, do ya?" 

She shook her head silently and tears filled her eyes. 

"If I untie ya, will ya promise to stay calm and gab to me?" he demanded. 

After she nodded, he untied her, and let her sit up before sitting down on the edge of the bed himself. 

"Why did ya react so explosively to a declaration of love, Meyja? Does it have anythin’ to do with yer late fiancé?” Lyam asked quietly. 

"Wot did Logan tell ya?" she growled. 

"He said sumthin’ ‘bout a husband who did bad things to ya and said that yer fiancé died a while ago." When Meyja was silent he continued, “I examined ya when ya passed out and didn' find anythin’ that could in any way indicate yer breakdown had a physical cause. So, I suspect Logan may have inadvertently triggered sumthin’ related to repressed emotions." 

"Wot ya want to hear from me now, Lyam? I will not whine like a little child nor spread my life story. Wot's gone is gone and I don' see the need to deal with sumthin’ I can’t change anyway," she said. 

He looked at her sympathetically. “But ya can do sumthin’ ‘bout it, Meyja. No’ the fact that certain things happened but the way ya deal with ‘em. If ya face it, instead of stoppin’ yer thoughts or even thinkin’ that maybe ya deserved it, ya can eventually let it go. Don' get me wron’, I don' mean to imply that ya see events the same way that wus just a shot in the dark, a theory, nothin’ more." Before heading down the stairs, he added, “It's probably a bit much for ya right now, but I'm sure Logan has an open ear for ya. If ya need my help or have any questions, ya can always come to me.” 

She murmured a low thank you and just sat on the bed while Lyam left the building and joined the other two who were still engaged in a more than heated discussion. 

Logan immediately stopped speaking and turned to the shaman. "Is she awake? 

How is she?”  

Lyam nodded. "She is. Even if she's a bit upset, she's fine so far. There are a few things ya really need to gab ‘bout, though. But I won' say more ‘bout it, that's her business. Although frankly I was a bit shocked by her reaction..." 

"Logan, come to me later with Meyja. We still have some things to gab ‘bout, too,” Amelia demanded then walked back to her house with Lyam. 

Logan just nodded before heading towards the door that the shaman had left open. 

He took a deep breath and called softly, “Meyja, may I come in?" 

"I'm upstairs," she replied. 

He entered the building, climbed the steps, and hesitantly sat down next to her. She stared blankly at the wall, seeming withdrawn and dismissive which made Logan remain silent for a few minutes. 

"Lyam said I should gab to ya, but I don' know ‘bout wot," Meyja began after a while. 

"He said that to me, too. He only spoke of a few things, but it would be yer choice to tell me," Logan reported. 

She nodded and looked at her hands that lay in her lap, constantly rubbing her fingers together while she wondered if and how she should confide in him. 

"I'm sorry I hurt ya. The whole thing wus just a bit much for me. And I can’t remember wot happened after ya asked me why I wus cryin’ so much," she admitted. 

"Well... ya pushed me away and started screamin’. It was messy and I hardly understood it, but ya said that it would have been better, if Ethan had slashed ya open then ya wouldn' have caused so much misery on people. Ya also said that Aron had chosen the same words when he confessed his love to ya back then. I grabbed ya when ya climbed over the counter and smashed all the bottles that were there. Then ya begged me to leave ‘cause ya couldn' take it anymore and passed out," he said blinking away the tears that had come to him at the thought. 

"Crap. Please forgive me I wusn' with me," she murmured. 

"It's okay, I'm aware of that. Don' blame yerself for it. But ya must also forgive me. Lyam wanted to know if bad things had happened to ya and I told him about yer husband and Aron,” Logan answered softly. 

"Course, I forgive ya. I just don' quite understand wot that has to do with it. It's part of the past." She just wasn’t seeing the connection. 

“He spoke of trauma. I can’t imagine much of it either, but I know it has sumthin’ to do with experiences that haunt sumone for a lon’ time," he said quietly. 

In fact, she still carried everything she had experienced around with her in the evenings, she cried herself to sleep, and was then plagued by nightmares. Even if she no longer woke up screaming, she was only very rarely able to sleep peacefully throughout the night, and she usually woke up bathed in sweat at some point. It had just been different when Aron and Eralion had been with her, then the dreams had become fewer, and she had finally felt safe. 

“I really can’t take it anymore, Logan." Silent tears of desperation ran down her cheeks, she pulled her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. 

"Do no’ give up. Don' let it destroy ya,” he pleaded and hugged her trembling body. 

"It destroyed me a lon’ time ago. I'm a wreck, held together only by a few invisible cords that are slowly starting to break, one by one. I no longer have the strength to hold myself together," she said tonelessly.  

"No, ya are wonderful, Meyja. And I love ya. I know ya can do it, if ya want it. Let me help ya. Please..." he begged softly. 

Inside she felt the hopelessness that brought her back the emptiness she had felt when Aron left her. The grip she had been holding on to her mind was also slowly dissolving, making her feel like she was standing on an abyss that was slowly but surely pulling her down. If she let go now, she knew she was lost forever. 

"Logan, would ya do me a favour?" she asked. 

He cocked his head, nodded, and looked at her expectantly. 

"Will ya get sumthin’ from the Philos, please? I need this now," she murmured. "A’ight, but don' do anythin’ stupid, okay?" he asked. 

"I won't, I promise," she replied, slightly lifting the corners of her mouth. 

He kissed her forehead gently and gave her a loving smile then went downstairs and got the envelope from his pocket, along with tobacco, paper, and matches. 

She thanked him, as he handed her the things and sat back down beside her. Then she twisted a strong tube out of it and lit it. Leaning against the wall behind the bed, she happily inhaled a few puffs and passed the tube to him, as the relaxing effect kicked in. Logan leaned next to her and they smoked two cigarettes in silence until Meyja had overcome the feeling of powerlessness for that moment and started to talk. 

Without using any names, she told him in detail everything that she had experienced so far. Beginning with her childhood, the marriage, the loss of her family, the escape from Voynar, the guild in Sharaya, her two companions there, the betrayal on the latter of the two, up to the events in Forstvald and Acinares, the murder of her fiancé, and the return to her homeland. She also told of her husband's rape again and subsequent murder of him, as well as the feelings she had when she lied to Logan. 

After she finished, she rolled another cigarette, and handed it to the shocked man next to her who gratefully took it. 

"This... is all so unbelievable. It seems to be more than a single person can take,” Logan mumbled slowly blowing out the smoke. 

Meyja could hardly believe that she had managed to tell everything without shedding a tear. That she could even bring herself to do it seemed a miracle and almost felt like a victory, a triumph over her past. 

"And yah’re still alive, sittin’ here next to me, and grinnin’, givin’ ya the hammerin’," he smiled and looked at her. 

"Indeed. I didn' even notice that to be honest," she said with an embarrassed laugh and pulled the sheet over her head. 

Logan put the cigarette on the bedside table and grabbed Meyja tickling her through the fabric that prevented her from struggling and she squirmed, squeaking, until he finally let go of her. 

"That wus mean," she remarked grinning. 

Leaning over him she grabbed the cigarette and gave it a few more pulls before smothering the embers on the floor by the bed. Then she stretched out on the mattress kicked off her boots and shoved them over the edge onto the floor. 

He did the same looked at her and whispered in amusement, “I ruined yer hairdo." 

Giggling she fingered her head and realised he was right about that, too, so she pulled out the clasp and placed it on the bedside table. 

"Pretty," he said running his fingers through her long, red hair. 

Giving a mischievous grin she returned the gesture and whispered, “Likewise." 

Then she snuggled up to him and kissed him carefully on the mouth, Logan put his arms around her and returned her kisses which seemed to be quickly becoming more self-confident. 

He could sense where this was going and had doubts about whether it was right, so he parted his lips from hers and asked, “Are ya sure ya want this?"  

"Definitely," she answered softly and kissed him again. 

Her hands wandered under his shirt, caressing his muscles as she pressed her lower body tightly against his loins. Logan lowered his head a little and kissed her neck. With a lustful gasp she closed her eyes and could finally surrender to him. 

His hands which had just been on her hips wandered over her body, caressing her contours until they finally reached her bare skin. He stroked up her waist and gently touched the bottom of her breasts and let go of her to get rid of the leather vest first. Meyja pushed his shirt up and pulled it over his head then ran her fingers further down his chest over his muscular stomach down to the strip that rose from his crotch. Smiling she ran a fingertip down along it until she reached the waistband of his pants. 

"Ya like that, don' ya?" he asked grinning. 

She giggled softly and nodded. “Indeed." 

Logan rolled her onto her back and slowly peeled off her shirt looking down at her as he knelt in front of her and ran his hands over her bare breasts. Even though he had already seen these he was still amazed that they felt so good under his fingers. 

Meyja excitedly opened her mouth and gasped for air, but she let him take the lead lifting her pelvis when he opened her pants and pulled them down. His surprised expression upon noticing her completely hairless pubic mound made her smirk in amusement. 

"And I like that," he remarked with a wink. 

A while ago in a fit of boredom, Meyja decided to remove all the hair that used to grow down there. The decision turned out to be spot on after his reaction to it. 

He looked at her naked body ran his fingertips over her tender skin, over her nipples which were already erect, then further over her stomach, to the insides of her thighs. 

She spread her legs expectantly revealing a view of her bare, uncovered crotch, which he studied for a moment before stroking it with the palm of his hand. 

He shook his head in disbelief. “I've niver touched anythin’ so soft." 

Logan gently parted her privates with two fingers and moved a third across her entrance. Breathing heavily, she stretched out to him, and he penetrated her with a fingertip before he brought her wetness to her pearl and stroked it gently. She responded with a lustful gasp to his caresses, moved her pelvis slightly and grabbed the sheets with both hands. Almost in slow motion he shoved a finger inside her and as he undid his trousers she sighed in honour of his touch and spread her thighs a little further. 

He continued slowly stroking her rough wet inside for another minute then got off the bed and stripped naked. 

Meyja had sat up and watched him with pounding heart, her gaze only grazed his member for a moment and the desire to feel it inside her became overwhelming. When he knelt on the mattress in front of her again, she immediately snuggled up to him, pressing her lips to his and his body back into the pillows. Then she straddled his thighs while their mouths melted in a hot kiss. 

Resting her hands on his chest, she slowly sank into that impressive arousal that pushed deeper inside her until she gently stretched herself. With a soft groan she arched her back and moved in sync with his gentle movements. Logan couldn't help but gasp as he felt her warm tightness, the feeling overwhelmed him, and he pulled her onto his chest hugging her tightly as they made love. 

It seemed almost unbelievable how close he was to her at that moment, she couldn't even tell where her own body ended and his began. His breath warmly caressed her neck before their lips met again and they kissed greedily and lovingly at the same time. The rhythm of their movements matched each other perfectly without even faltering for a moment, and Meyja caught herself wishing that these minutes of togetherness would never end. Aron had even slipped her mind completely while Logan let her go and she straightened her upper body to lean on his broad chest again and look at him with half-open eyes. 

Unable to close their lips and breathe calmly they gasped and held eye contact while Meyja involuntarily began to move faster at which point he abandoned his caution, grabbed her bottom with both hands, and pressed her hard on his loins. That she liked it he could tell from the passionate expression on her face and the louder moans that rose from her throat, almost whimpering. 

After a few more minutes she reached the climax, her entire body starting to tremble and her muscles cramping so much that she was unable to move herself any further. Instinctively he continued holding her buttocks with his hands and thrusting his stiff member into her again and again in regular movements from the hip until soft screams tormented themselves from inside her. 

Fascinated by her undisguised lust he looked at her, her enraptured facial expressions and the reaction of her body seemed almost unreal to him. Logan had shared the bed with other women before, but none of them seemed to have ever been as fulfilled as Meyja was at that moment. Even before her own climax had subsided, she heard Logan’s increasing gasps, culminating in a throaty hoarse groan as he climaxed as well. She even felt his ejaculation which shot out of his violently twitching member and ran hot into her vagina. 

Breathing heavily, she laid down on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her body and hugged her. Then he kissed her sweaty neck and savoured her scent. 

"That wus amazin’," he whispered with a beatific grin. 

She turned her head to look at him before replying, “More than that." 

"More than amazin’?" he asked with a smile, and she nodded with a smile back. 

"Yah're right. There is no word that would do it justice.” 

She shrugged in amusement and kissed him again, taking a long time to break her lips from his. 

When they were already laying next to each other and smoking again, he remarked, “Ya seem very happy right now." 

"So am I to be honest." 

Logan beamed. “Me too." 

She looked away thoughtfully for a moment then looked at him again and pleaded, 

“I don' want ya to go, Logan." 

"Where should I go?" he asked confused. 

With a gentle shake of her head she explained, “Actually, I meant more that I want ya with me, by my side. As my... partner. I want us to be a couple.” 

He wrapped his arms around her. "I want that, too, Meyja," he whispered touched. 

Then he looked deep into her eyes and said softly, “I love ya." 

She took his hand, slipping her fingers between his. "Give me a little time, will ya? I don' know how lon’ it will take me. But since I was able to confide in ya and we both shared the bed; I feel a much stronger connection to ya than before.” 

"Ya get as much time as ya need. It's nice to hear that,” he replied smiling and blushing a little. 

Noticing his embarrassment, she raised an eyebrow questioningly. 

"Oh... it's just... after all, I'm thirty-two years old and yer no’ the first woman in my bed. But niver before has it been as wonderful as it wus with ya. As if I could only really touch ya with it ‘til now. I mean no’ on a physical level, but rather yer response to bein’ touched. It felt like I wusn't just touching you… I was... caressing yer soul... 

That sounds so silly,” he murmured covering his eyes with his free hand. 

She shook her head pulled his hand away, so he was looking at her again. "No, it doesn' sound like it. That’s exactly wot I felt. Ya didn' just touch me on the surface. It felt like we were completely fused together. And I thought it was just as wonderful.” 

Logan smiled happily before pulling her back to his chest and wrapping his arms around her. They held each other for a long time, snuggled and kissed until they finally fell asleep. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Logan stared at the back of Meyja's head who was still lying on the floor in front of him and didn't move. Before he remembered, knelt next to her, and took her daggers and stiletto. He always kept an eye on her hands and was prepared for her to attack him but nothing of the sort happened. He carefully turned her onto her back to face her and realised that her eyes were now closed as if she were asleep while a thin trickle of blood flowed from her nose. He pushed one of her lids up noticing that the eyeballs had rotated back to a normal position and the pupil was pointing straight ahead and slightly upward, as is common in sleeping people. The irises looked odd to him though, almost black, instead of the dark blue they were normally tinted. But he wasn't sure if it was the poor light for the barn was only lit by a lantern. The gaze was blank, so it seemed she was really asleep which surprised him a little but wasn't worrying because she was breathing calmly and evenly again now. 
Just as he was about to remove his finger from her eyelid again, her vision suddenly sharpened, staring at him while she gasped in air at the same time. Startled he jumped away from her, just suppressing the reflex to turn into a Virtherion. Meyja sat with her back to him, her upper body bent forward, and she tried to breathe heavily, coughing which she only managed to do after what felt like an eternity whereupon she began to cry softly. 
Logan was still thunderstruck staying right where he was, palms sweaty, and heart pounding, waiting to see what she did or said next. But she just sat huddled sobbing so hard it made his chest hurt. 
"Meyja?" he asked softly. 
She twitched no less startled than himself when she woke up and turned to him obviously disoriented. "Logan? Wot happened? How do I get here?” 
She struggled to her feet, knees shaking, and took a few unsteady steps toward him but he backed away before she could reach him. 
"Please stay where ya are," he murmured extending his palm toward her to reinforce his request. 
She stopped immediately and looked at him with wide eyes. "Wot is it? Are ya a’ight?" 
Logan was white as a sheet and he was shaking though she couldn't tell, if it was fear or cold that was causing the shivering. From the look on his face, it was pure fear for he looked at her as if he had seen a ghost. 
"No... Please stay here, yes? I need to see if Lyam is still here,” he replied turning around. 
"Wot does this mean? If yah're no’ well, I should look for him, shouldn' I?" 
"Just do what yah're told! Just this once!” he yelled dodging her again. 
When she nodded silently, he left the barn and ran over to the meeting point where an angry Amelia was already waiting for him. The horses were carrying the luggage on their backs, Adam already in the saddle while Lyam sat quietly next to Amelia, turning his hairy head to look at Logan as he arrived. 
"Where are ya two, Logan? Damn it, wot are ya up to for so lon’?!” the Virtheria scolded and growled menacingly. 
Lyam recognized Logan’s concern immediately and assumed his human form before stepping up to his friend and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Is it Meyja? Wot happened?" 
With a helpless shrug Logan’s shock dissipated and he couldn't help but cry whereupon Lyam gave the Virtheria a meaningful look and nodded towards the horses. 
"Adam, we're goin’ ahead. Who knows how lon’ it will be here. Let's hope there aren' any unpleasant surprises in store for us”, Amelia grumbled and started to move at Adam's side. 
After the two were out of earshot Logan began, “Ya will probably call me crazy, but I don' think it can be trauma that is troublin’ Meyja. Or does that include sudden changes in her personality as well?” 
"Change of personality? Yah'll have to explain that to me,” Lyam replied frowning. 
"I can’t explain it, that's it! She suddenly got angry out of the blue, left me and went into the stable. Course, I followed her and wanted to know wot wus goin’ on when she turned to me. Her eyes were blank only the bare eyeball showin’ and she demanded that I go and leave her alone. I just couldn' say anything to it, so I stopped and stared at her. She didn' move either and at one point I reached out to touch her. Then she reached for her dagger and told me to forget her because she belonged to this… this thin’. She spoke as if she wusn’ herself. And when I asked who she was, she laughed. That laughter... It sounded almost unearthly... I've never heard anythin’ so horrible, Lyam." 
Logan’s report alone was enough for Lyam's blood to freeze as well and his best friend's helpless look didn't make it any better. 
"That really doesn' sound like trauma," the shaman murmured concerned. "And I must admit I'm completely at a loss ‘bout this." 
"That's not all. She threatened me that, if I didn' let her go, she would stab me in my sleep. Then she passed out and fell to the ground like a deboned fish. Lyam, I don' know wot to do. She scares me, I don' even recognise her anymore." 
"Is she still there?" Lyam wanted to know; his fear evident in his eyes as well. 
Logan slowly shook his head. "She woke up when I examined her eyes and doesn' seem to remember anythin’ ‘bout it." 
Lyam nodded thoughtfully. "Let's go and talk to her. It's not going to help us just standing here in the cold tryin’ to figure out wot's goin’ on with her. At leas’ we have to find a solution to get her to this village ‘cause she canno’ stay here alone, it would be too dangerous.” 
Logan followed him, letting Lyam who had dressed hastily go ahead into the barn where Meyja was busy saddling Crispin. 
When she heard the two men come in, she tightened the saddle’s belt, and then turned around. She still didn't understand why Logan suddenly wanted to keep her at a distance and wondered what had happened after they left the house because she couldn't remember anything else. And now he was standing halfway behind Lyam looking at her with a hardness in his eyes he hadn't even displayed when the rebels had gotten them in the mansion that time. 
She greeted the shaman with a nod. “Wot's goin’ on now? Would ya two be so kind as to enlighten me?” 
"Course. But how ‘bout we go inside again? It's getting’ a little cold out here,” Lyam suggested calmly. 
"A’ight, I'm done here anyway." She grabbed the reins and led her stallion outside where she tied him to a fence and then went into the house she had occupied for so long. 
After she shed her coats and sat down at the table, Logan and Lyam sat across from her. Logan placed her weapons on the table in front of her which made her feel like she was being interrogated and she crossed her arms defensively over her chest. 
"So?" she started the conversation looking back and forth between the two men. 
Lyam nervously cleared his throat. “Meyja, do you know wot happened in the stables earlier?" 
She just shook her head, eyes fixed on Logan who avoided her gaze. Since it was a bit lighter in the house than in the barn, he had seen immediately that her eyes were really jet black and there was no difference in colour between her pupils and the iris. 
"Would ya like to tell?" the shaman asked Logan. 
With a short nod, he agreed, and began to describe the events in great detail but he didn't look at her for a second. "And in case ya hadn' noticed, Lyam, her eyes are really black. So, it wusn' the twilight of the lantern," Logan finally concluded. 
"I noticed that, but I'm afraid I can’t place it. To be honest, I've niver encountered an illness that makes the eyes turn so dark. She also doesn' seem to be sensitive to light, suggestin’ it's not just dilated pupils we're dealin’ with. There are certain disorders where a person can develop different personalities and under other circumstances, I would have thought it possible... But those eyes..." Lyam replied seriously. 
"Ya want to make fun of me! I would niver have said such a thin’! Logan is my partner, so why should I offend him like that and threaten to kill him?!” Meyja snapped at Lyam before turning to Logan. "Ya know how I feel ‘bout ya, Logan! Or no’?! Didn' I tell ya?! Up there, in bed?!” 
"Ya have! And then something happened to ya that I don't understand! I'm as upset ‘bout this as you are! I love ya, Meyja! But I'm scared, too!” Logan retorted. 
"From me?!" she hissed angrily. 
"Yes, that too! And ‘bout ya! And for my own life! Ya were no longer the woman I met! Ya should understand!” he yelled throwing his arms in the air helplessly. 
His words gave her a painful pang. "I see," she murmured under her breath before getting up, pulling on the two cloaks, and reaching for her weapons. "Then it's probably better if my journey has a different goal than yers. Stay well and take care of yerselves.” 
"No! Please stay!” Logan begged close to tears. 
"Farewell," she whispered tonelessly and left the house the door slamming shut behind her. 
"She's out of her mind," Lyam blurted out aghast. "We have to stop her. Take this.” He handed the distraught Logan a small vial he'd pulled from his pocket before stripping off his clothes and transforming into a Virtherion. 
"Wot's that?" Logan looked at him confused. 
"A sleepin’ potion. I need ya to distract her while I sneak up on her from behind. As soon as I hold her, ya must feed her the contents of the vial. Can ya do it?” Lyam looked at him intently. 
"Ya want to capture her?" Logan was visibly shocked. 
"And ya want to lose her?" Lyam growled. "’Cause that will undoubtedly happen if we don' act quickly." 
Logan got up. "Let me try sumthin’ different first. If it doesn' work, we'll overpower her but I refuse to just ambush her like an animal when there are other options. 
Reasonable options.” 
"A’ight. If ya need me grab the back of yer head and I'll be there,” Lyam admitted, and slipped out into the night. 
Logan took a deep breath then he also left the building and walked across the square where Meyja was just tying her last belongings to the saddle, he hid the vial in his fist. 
“Meyja, please allow me to take another minute of yer time. I just want to ask ya one more thin’," he began. 
She turned to him with her face expressionless but she nodded. 
"Thanks. Well... earlier in the stable ya said ya already thought ya could feel love for me. Is that the truth?” he asked hopefully. 
"I don' remember sayin’ that. Ya know it exactly. And if ya don' mind, I'd like to leave now,” she replied dismissively. She turned away from him and put her hands on the saddle but before she could pull herself up, a wave of emotion washed over the mask she'd been trying to maintain for some reason. Of course, she loved him, but it hurt her too much that he seemed afraid of her to stay with him. 
"But I do mind that ya just want to leave me behind." He wasn't about to give up on her, he loved her far too much for that, even if he didn't know that this feeling was mutual. 
Meyja wanted to turn to him, tell him that she wanted to stay with him, but something deep inside her stopped her. A buzzing sounded in her ears and before she could react velvety darkness engulfed her. 
Logan looked at her, hoping so much that she would give him a chance, but when she finally turned to him after what felt like an eternity, he was startled. Her eyes were rolled back again, so he could only see the whites in them. 
"I told ya she's mine..." Meyja whispered angrily and drew her daggers. 
"Lyam! It's happening again!” Logan yelled in panic as he backed away. 
The beast within him pushed to the surface and the pressure in his body increased until he thought his head was about to explode. Even as he fought the curse, he saw Lyam emerge from the darkness. Crispin got startled and galloped away which seemed to warn Meyja, for just as Lyam lunged to knock her off her feet, she ducked under him and pointed one of the daggers in his direction. Lyam could no longer dodge the blade and the sharp edge caught his side, teaching him a long slash. Whining he hit the ground next to Logan who then gave in to the inner urge and transformed. He didn't notice that he dropped the vial but instead rushed towards Meyja who skilfully rolled to the side and avoided him. But Logan was faster and more agile than her, a kick in her back threw her to the ground.  
Before she could get up, he pinned her down his paws fixed on her hands which still held the daggers and looked at Lyam. "Lyam! I lost the vial!” 
"Look out for it! We need it, I don' have any more!” Lyam barked excitedly, pushed himself up, and began bleeding to search for the glass jar in the snow. 
Logan looked around as well and eventually spotted the potion on his left just an arm's length away. "Here!" 
Even before Lyam was with him, Logan, without thinking, reached out his paw and grasped the vial – just as Meyja's freed hand drove the dagger backwards. He howled as the blade slammed into his thigh but instead of letting go, he bit her arm snarling, and she let go of him with a yelp. The taste of her blood was downright disgusting and he fought against the rising urge to gag that was now raging inside him. 
The shaman dragged himself towards the two, took on his human form, and breathlessly wrestled the two weapons from Meyja's grip which he then threw aside. 
Logan was finally able to spit out her arm and handed the vial to Lyam who groaned and opened it with trembling fingers. 
"Let her go, ya filthy beasts! Yah'll niver get her!" Meyja yelled wriggling and thrashing around with her free hand which Logan then grabbed and held tight.       "Rthryldra zsha drykthan..." she murmured in a dark voice and Logan felt that she put her fingertips on his wrist. 
Before he could react, a stab of pain shot through his body, he whimpering let go of her, and she waved her hand again. 
"Wot wus that?" Lyam asked dumbfounded. "Can she do magic?" 
"No’ that I know of," Logan growled grabbing her arm again to steady it this time making sure to stay away from her fingers. "Give her the damn stuff to shut her up." 
Lyam nodded briefly and tried to reach her mouth with the vial, but she still struggled too hard and finally he gave Logan a resigned look and said, “It won' work like that. Can ya turn her on her back?” 
"She still has a knife in her right boot. Better take it off her, just to be safe,” Logan mumbled. 
Breathing heavily Lyam moved around the two and grabbed Meyja's right foot which he had to hold with all his might to get to the weapon. When he finally succeeded, he simply threw the stiletto into the darkness before struggling to his feet. "Ya can turn her over now." 
Logan brought Meyja's hands together behind her back, grabbed both wrists with his left paw before pushing his right arm under her neck and rolling under her. He wrapped his legs around her body so that she could not move. 
"Disgustin’ rabble! I'll make her slit ya all open!” she hissed gritting her teeth as Lyam brought the vial to her lips. 
"Whoever or wotever ya are, we'll bring ya down, I swear to the gods," Logan replied. 
She was just about to say something when the shaman pushed the glass container into her mouth in a flash and finally brought the potion to its intended place. 
Meyja swallowed coughing before continuing to scold, “You disgustin’ critters! This plan will not work! Niver will ya... will ya... ya..." 
Her tongue failed at first then her resistance weakened noticeably until she finally fell asleep. 
"Let's hurry," Lyam murmured his side still bleeding profusely. "Did she get ya, too?" 
"Yes, she did." Logan pushed Meyja's body off him before getting up and transforming back to look at the injury. "Damned." 
"We should tie her up before we both take care of ourselves. I don' know how lon’ the potion lasts in this kind of insanity," Lyam said. 
Logan nodded, lifted Meyja's limp body in his arms, and took her back into the house where he placed her on the table and took off her fur coats. 
"I hurt her badly, too," he remarked sadly. 
"Don' blame yerself, ya had to," Lyam replied and handed his friend a rope with which he tied Meyja's feet. 
Before they could tie her arms, the shaman cleaned the bite wound, applied an ointment, and bandaged it with linen cloth then Logan wrapped the rope around her wrists, too, so it was tight enough that she couldn't wriggle out but not so tight that the blood flow stopped. 
Finally, they healed themselves, luckily Lyam's cut was only long and painful while 
Logan’s wound was worryingly deep, and the shaman even had to sew up the stitch. 
When Logan finally limped back outside with Meyja over his shoulder he murmured, “Who would have thought that she didn' tell me crap back in the manor. She's really good, and if it weren' for the two of us, one of us might have died this night.” 
"Ya think it was her?" Lyam asked carrying his bag in his hand. 
"I'm no’ sure," he answered softly. "But I have to find out. Actually, I assumed that sumone had hexed her but since ya as a shaman can’t do anythin’ with her symptoms it's goin’ to be difficult to find out exactly wot's goin’ on." 
"But I'm just an apprentice. Yer sister could certainly say more about that. Maybe ya should take Meyja to the Ares,” Lyam suggested. “Or Amelia knows sumthin’. The Shepherds can also do very cruel things and she may know sumthin’ that we shamans don' have a clue ‘bout.” 
Crispin had returned and was standing nervously in the square, eyeing the two men with ears cocked back suspiciously but recognizing his mistress, he stopped as Logan walked slowly towards him and grabbed his reins to lead him to the stable. 
"There wus sumthin’ else I almost forgot though... Her blood," Logan said thoughtfully. "When I bit her, I felt it. It wusn' like regular blood, it had an awful taste that made me choke." 
"Wot did it taste like?" Lyam asked. 
Logan murmured, “Hard to describe. I don' know of anythin’ that tastes like it, but if there were an associated smell it would be that of decay.” He tied Crispin to one of the metal rings set in the barn wall before setting Meyja on the ground and untying his own horse from the shed to saddle it. 
"Decay… I don' know, if ya want to hear, but I can’t do anythin’ with this information either. It sounds anythin’ but healthy though,” Lyam answered seriously and squatted down next to Meyja to examine her again until Logan was done. When he couldn't see anything, he whispered, “Wot's wron’ with ya, poor thin’?" 
"We'll find out," Logan said firmly. 
Minutes later the two men rode side by side out of Waldskorn, Logan perched on Crispin's back and holding the still peacefully sleeping Meyja in front of him, her legs dangling to one side while Lyam guided Logan’s fallow horse. 
The shaman murmured, “As Amelia said... Let's hope for a journey without incident." 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Logan and Lyam had ridden all night and when morning broke, Meyja had started to move mumbling but then she slept peacefully on. 
"I think she'll wake up soon," Logan murmured looking over at Lyam seriously. 
He nodded and replied quietly, “If that happens, we can hardly prevent it." 
Silently the two men spurred their horses on and galloped through a slight dip where the snow was particularly deep. 
Crispin stumbled slightly and struggled not to fall because there was something hidden under the snow that Logan couldn't see. 
Meyja was rudely shaken out of sleep and opened her eyes looking around disoriented and felt that her hands and feet were tied. She realised where she was and that she must have just been kidnapped. Unobtrusively and with forced calm she began to tug at the rope but couldn't get it free before trying to look up at whoever was holding her on her own horse's back. The hood of her fur coat was in the way though, so she couldn't recognise anyone. So, in all her fear, she decided to persevere and wait for a favourable opportunity to escape. 
After the sun came up and they still hadn't met Amelia and Adam, Lyam steered his horse closer to Logan. “Ya sure we're still right?" 
Logan nodded. "Absolutely sure. Amelia told us the way. Up to the junction for Voynar continue south and just before Talheym where the mountains are gettin’ closer to our right off the beaten track, further and further east. We left the road 
‘bout two hours ago, so it shouldn' be too far now.” 
Meyja's thoughts raced. Why did Logan and Lyam hold her captive? Why had they tied her up? It just didn't make sense, unless… Before she could think any further, a long, drawn-out howl made her hair stand on end. 
"That wus Amelia," Lyam remarked startled and the two men urged their horses to a gallop again. 
After a slight incline they could finally see the other two rebels, surrounded by riders, with Kavanagh on his horse in the lead. 
Logan immediately braked Crispin until he stopped while Meyja had also seen who threatened her former comrades-in-arms and swallowed anxiously. 
"Shite," Logan exclaimed and Meyja thought she heard a hint of anger in the word that she couldn't classify. When he turned her head to see her face, she pretended to be asleep. "She's still no’ awake. But we can’t get her down there. If Kavanagh sees her, he won' leave without her,” he told Lyam who could see fear in his eyes. 
The shaman steered his horse in front of Logan to block Kavanagh’s view and whispered, “Then we have to leave her here. The snow is deep enough, let her down, and ride after me. As soon as Kavanagh's gone, we'll come get her.” 
Logan nodded and looked down at Meyja sadly, then he kissed her gently on the forehead, and slowly let her slide into the snow. 
After the dull hoofbeats of the two horses had gone, Meyja rolled onto her stomach and peered over the edge of the snow. 
 
Logan reined in Meyja's grey stallion beside Amelia and eyed Kavanagh with hostility. 
"Two more. Is there a nest of ya disgustin’ mutations around here sumwhere?” Cayden asked with a smirk. 
Logan stared at him in silence, having to pull himself together not to transform, and attack Kavanagh. 
To his relief Amelia spoke up and asked Cayden, “Wot ya want from us?" 
"It's no’ ‘bout wot, it's more ‘bout who I want," Kavanagh replied softly while staring back at Logan. 
"She's no’ with us anymore," he replied crossing his arms in front of his chest and pushing his chin forward. 
"Wot's he gabbin’ ‘bout, Logan?" Amelia wanted to know. 
He answered his leader so quietly that none of the strangers could hear, “’Bout Meyja." 
 
Meyja saw that a few words were exchanged, then she rolled back onto her back, and untied her ankle cuffs with her fingers which were clammy from the cold before pushing herself to her feet. After a last wistful look at Logan, she was just about to walk away when she heard a horse snorting behind her and spun around. 
They were three mounted guys whose blond hair suggested they were Voynarians, but Meyja didn't recognise them, so they probably belonged to Kavanagh's group. As one of them dismounted and came towards her, she hastily tried to pull her stiletto out of her boot, but it wasn't there. So, her desperate attempt to defend herself would fail before it even began, and she took a few steps back, losing her balance, and sliding another couple of inches on her backside before the man got to her and she deftly slipped his feet under his body. 
Before she could jump up and run, the guy had her down and his hand over her mouth, his eyes on the gathering of Kavanagh's men and the rebels. 
After a second, he looked at her again, and whispered, “Calm down. We mean ya no harm. My name is Cyan, this is Brennan, and Nyall. Please promise me that ya won't scream if I take my hand away, will ya? Nod if ya understand.” 
She stared hatefully into his face but then she realised that she had no choice and she nodded calmly whereupon Cyan took his hand away. 
"Are ya with Kavanagh?" she asked. 
Cyan shook his head and when he looked down at the gathering again, she saw fear in his eyes. Kavanagh would never accept such cowards into his ranks, she was sure of it. Still, she hesitated for a moment to put her trust in them, looked at the other two men who looked just as scared as the first. 
"Would ya be so kind as to let me go? I'm getting’ short of breath,” she moaned gasping before the guy relieved the pressure on her chest. 
"I'm sorry," he apologised. 
"Thanks. Too kind,” she remarked sarcastically, glaring at him. 
"Who are ya, if ya allow me to ask this question? And why were ya tied up?” Cyan wanted to know looking her up from head to toe. 
 
Kavanagh looked away from Logan and up the hill where he could make out the dim outlines of mounted figures. Then he looked back at the rebels and murmured, “So she's no’ here anymore... ‘Cause she's up there, ain' she?" 
As he urged his horse, leading it towards the crest, Logan followed his gaze, cursed under his breath, and slammed his heels into Crispin's sides causing the stallion to gallop startled. If Kavanagh found Meyja, something would happen that he could not predict and that he must avoid at all costs, for he had no doubt that this man posed a danger to all of them, and Meyja in particular. 
 
Before Meyja could answer Cyan, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw a rider approaching the hill whereupon he got up and she looked up at him in panic. He seemed to understand within a second that she was now in distress as well and pointed to the ground while waving his companions to understand that they should help him. 
When Brennan and Nyall reached them in a few steps she asked quietly, “Wot are ya up to?" 
"Just trust me and lay on yer stomach," Cyan whispered urgently. 
After she did as he said, the three of them began shovelling snow at her with their bare hands until a whole heap loomed over her the turf peeping out of the white. 
Only seconds after Meyja was out of sight, Kavanagh reached the crest of the hill, halted his horse, and eyed the men in wonder. Logan appeared next to him looking no less confused at what he saw but unlike Kavanagh he understood what was going on almost immediately and had to fight back a grin with all his might. 
"I told ya she's no’ with us anymore," he announced condescendingly though the undertone of his words made a different sense to Kavanagh. 
Kavanagh snorted derisively. “I know ya have her hidden sumwhere. And I will find her, count on that.” Then with a rough tug on the reins he turned his horse and galloped toward his men who were already coming toward him. 
"Stay down there," Logan whispered to the pile of snow. 
After Kavanagh finally got far enough away, Logan got off Crispin's back and began shovelling the snow off Meyja. 
"That wus close," he remarked relieved, helped her to her feet, and hesitantly pressed her body which was shivering from the cold to him. 
Cyan, Brennan, and Nyall stood a little undecided next to the two when Logan stroked Meyja's cheek and briefly looked into her eyes. "Ya a’ight?" he asked softly. 
She nodded. “Yes. Just… cold.” Her lower jaw was shaking uncontrollably, making her teeth chatter. "Thank ya," she added glancing at the three men.  
"It's okay." Cyan waved her off. "But now I'd really like to know wot's actually goin’ on here." 
Logan nodded to him and replied, “Sure. I owe ya an explanation. I know. But no’ here. Where are ya three from right now and where are ya goin’?” 
While Cyan was answering him, they also reached the remaining rebels and the pack horses. "We've just come from the mountains from the giants. Actually, we wanted to look around Talheym and Waldskorn to find out how the situation in the Ice Lands looks at the moment. And ya?" 
"Our goal is the abandoned village at the bluffs. We've just come from Waldskorn and I wouldn't advise ya to go any further. Undead are roamin’ around there these days and it's simply too dangerous for three Virtheriā to face ‘em,” Logan replied seriously. 
"Nice to see ya," Amelia remarked, giving the three men a friendly nod. 
"Ya... know each other," Meyja remarked in surprise. 
Logan nodded before he suggested, “But now let's move on otherwise yah'll freeze to death. Yah're going to come with us, aren’ ya?” He looked questioningly at Cyan, Brennan, and Nyall. 
The former gave the other two a somewhat perplexed look but when they nodded, he said, “Very well. We will follow ya.” Then the men mounted their horses again. 
Meyja was still bitterly cold, so Logan quickly lifted her onto Crispin's back where she could sit astride the loosened ankle cuffs. Then he climbed up behind her, turned to Amelia and before he could ask, she gave a nod of her head to indicate that they didn't have to wait. 
"It's no’ far. Half an hour I think,” she explained calmly although she was surprised at Meyja's tied hands. 
So, Logan murmured his gratefulness and set the stallion in motion who calmly trotted ahead. 
He had actually wanted to speak to Meyja, but he didn't know what to say, so he kept quiet just like her. 
Their path led them along the edge of the forest, on and on, and just as Logan was beginning to think that Crispin would no longer be able to run that fast, he spotted the gable of a building, peeking out from between the treetops. Relieved he reined in the grey, headed towards it at a leisurely pace and a few minutes later reached a hidden spot in the dense forest where he stopped. 
"Yah'd best wait here a moment then I'll go and see if the coast is clear. I promise I'll come get ya as soon as I know there's no danger,” he said calmly. 
She slowly slid off her horse's back and sat on a tree trunk where there was no snow. She said nothing and treated Logan with disregard until he had disappeared between the trees. 
Meyja sat undecided for a moment and looked around then began pacing to keep from getting cold. Meanwhile she thought about her situation, about Cayden who now seemed to be after her as much as the Savage Syndicate, and suddenly she realised that Logan was in danger just like Aron once was. Fear welled up in her gut. 
If she lost a loved one again... But... was Logan that for her? Did she really love him? 
After all, he had tied her up without telling her why he had done it... 
She realised that she had stopped inadvertently, took a deep breath, and then started walking in the direction Logan’s tracks pointed to her. She tumbled hurriedly through the snow which had piled up in waist-deep contractions here, too, until she realised that she had lost the marks left by Crispin's hooves and had to stop. 
To make matters worse had she lost her way? Although she wasn't that cold at all anymore, she felt despair inside her a deep black emptiness that had germinated inside her bringing tears to her eyes. Fear for Logan grew into a panic she had never felt before. Images formed in her head. Pictures of Logan laying in the snow. He was naked and the white beneath him was slowly turning blood red. Although she didn't want to see it, the images moved closer to her until she could see that something had torn him apart. Disembowelled he lay at her feet amidst copious amounts of blood. 
Terrified Meyja covered her mouth with her fingers to keep from screaming. Her hand was also bloody and was shaking as she looked at them. A look down revealed the horrifying magnitude of what must have happened. She was also naked; her pale skin smeared all over with Logan’s blood and in her hand, she held one of her daggers. She began to scream madly, dropping the weapon before throwing herself on the ground, and trying to rub the blood from her body with snow. But it didn't work no matter how hard she rubbed and scratched – it only got worse. 
That's when she realised, she was lying right next to his corpse and the snow she had tried to use to free herself from it was already soaked in blood. Crying and screaming she crawled backwards but Logan’s face was right in front of hers he held her tight screaming, too. An unimaginable tremor went through her body her head was thrown so that she could not think straight until she sat still. Her cheek burned and the dizziness made her stomach feel sick, so she kept her eyes closed hoping it would pass. She had to think. About Logan and why she killed him. The tears were still running hot down her cheeks. She didn't want that... 
"Honey?" she heard Logan whisper. 
When she opened her eyes blinking, he knelt in front of her and looked at her in horror. 
Sobbing again she pleaded, "Please forgive me. I love ya. And I didn’t want any of that..." 
"It's fine. I love ya, too. Calm down..." he mumbled. 
Logan was sensing that something was very wrong and carefully lifted her into his bare arms and carried her towards the nameless village as he had promised. It seemed to him that this time she had had a panic attack even when he found her. The way she'd been rolling and yelling made him suspicious. Her screams had shown him the way, although he had assumed an attack at first, and had hardly expected to find her physically unharmed. At first, she was still sobbing as he hobbled her the short distance to the village but by the time he got there, she had fallen silent and fallen asleep. She hung almost like a child in his arms and he caught himself thinking what an honour it would be for him to be able to bear children to this beautiful woman one day – when all was well again. 
He'd left the door of one of the run-down gloomy-looking houses open when she started screaming, and he carried her inside, laying her carefully on the musty smelling sofa before kneeling beside her, and plucking a strand of red hair from her face. He hadn't thought for a second about leaving her, not when she threw the liquor bottles nor when she rammed the blade into his thigh in her madness.  
He wanted to be there for her, by her side, no matter how difficult it was and how much he suffered from it himself. As he knelt on the floor and looked at her, he didn't even realise that he had started crying himself. When Lyam surprisingly stood in the door and his shadow fell on Logan he startled, got up, and wiped his eyes. 
"Oh, it's ya…" Logan mumbled. 
"Did sumthin’ happen again?" Lyam asked quietly stepping next to Logan, and looking down at Meyja. 
Logan just nodded silently. 
Only when the shaman knelt next to the sofa and put his hand on Meyja's forehead did he explain, “I left her in the forest to first see if the coast is clear here. Then I heard her scream. I've niver heard screams like that before... It almost sounded like she was... I don' know... Sufferin’ an unimaginably cruel pain. I transformed instantly, ran back into the woods, and wus with her within a minute. She lay in the snow, still screamin’, and thrashin’ ‘bout. Although I spoke to her, she didn’ come to her senses only when I shook her and gave her a juicy slap in the face did she open her eyes and recognise me. Then I brought her here immediately. I don' understand it anymore..." 
Lyam shook his head, stood up, and said, “She has a bad fever. I don' know to wot extent this can have sumthin’ to do with these dropouts but it would at leas’ be an indication of it. I have a potion for the fever that ya should give her. Or I'll do it as ya prefer. However…” He knelt again, felt her forehead one more time, shook his head, and sighed. 
"Wot?" Logan asked nervously. 
"Fortunately, the fever ain’ very high yet," Lyam remarked quietly. "If we can’t lower her body temperature, she won't survive long, though." 
A queasy feeling rose in Logan’s stomach. "How ya mean that?" 
"That if we don' act quickly enough, she will die. Let me try to wake her up..." Lyam murmured before speaking to her, calling her name, and finally putting his hand on her shoulder to shake her gently. 
Meyja didn't react, just continued sleeping, breathing calmly through her nose, even when Logan tried to wake her up, she didn't move. 
A few seconds later, Amelia suddenly stood in the doorway, put her fists on her hips, and scolded, “Wot are ya doing here? The horses are still outside, and yer luggage won' unload itself!” Realising that the two men were kneeling next to Meyja and looking genuinely concerned, she walked closer frowning under her rarely seen blonde hair. "Wot’s it this time?" 
"Amelia, really?! Meyja doesn’t' regain consciousness and yer standing here like the personified accusation?!" Logan snapped at her beside himself with anger. 
Lyam called his sanity, “Logan, please calm down. However, he's telling the truth, Amelia. Meyja no longer comes around. She has a high fever and strangely black eyes.” 
"Black eyes? Like the giants?” Amelia asked puzzled. 
“No, only the iris is discoloured. I'm no’..." Lyam began but Amelia pushed him aside, almost in a panic fell on her knees next to Meyja, and looked at her own eyes.  
"No..." she breathed aghast. 
"Wot's goin’ on?!" Logan didn't understand. 
Amelia first felt the pulse on the wrist then on the neck of the unconscious woman before carefully pushing Meyja's lips apart with her fingers and smelling her mouth. "Crap! Just when Yardleyu ain’ there!” she yelled before getting up and looking seriously at Logan. "She's... How shall I put it... obsessed? A stranger’s soul entered her body. That of a dead person. This can only be the work of a very powerful Shepherd. Hence the fever, the colourin’ of the iris, and the racin’ pulse. The fact that these symptoms occur at the same time is worryin’. Usually, the eyes are first noticed, then the fever slowly sets in before the sufferer finally falls into a coma.”  
“I noticed the black eyes for the first time before we left. She also rolled her eyeballs back so far that ya could only see the whites. She suddenly spoke confused and attacked us. When we tried to take her down, both of us were hurt before we could disarm, and stun her,” Logan whispered. 
"It really does sound like bein’ possessed by another soul. And it also explains the handcuffs… But I'm no’ at all familiar with that, just read ‘bout it,” Amelia countered. 
Logan looked at her while silent tears ran down his cheeks and asked, “Wot can we do anyway?" 
Amelia's expression darkened visibly. "Pray to the gods we find a way to get the foreign soul out of her. And that before it takes Meyja's soul with it." 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

"In three days, we should finally have arrived in the Ice Lands. Then it will take us another day or two to reach Waldskorn where my people are,” remarked Yardleyu whose horse trotted briskly down the road. 
Eralion nodded. "That's good news. I don't think the horses will last much longer either." 
That same evening, after Yary had spoken to Ed, Eralion had shown up at the Drunken Beggar inn and begged him to take him north. He didn't really value company especially from people he barely knew and had nothing in common with, but Eralion was quiet most of the time and seemed to sense that he had no interest in idle conversation. Still, Yardleyu wondered if giving in to the pleading and taking his sister's ex-lover with him was a good idea, since she might have had her reasons for leaving him, too. 
"Listen. I'm really not sure we'll find her there. If no’ I won' accompany ya back to Sharaya, I simply don' have time for that. But if we do find her which I really hope I don' know if she wants to meet ya. I haven' seen her myself for more than five years and can therefore hardly assess the situation. I wus surprised to learn that she seems to be interested in men at all after her marriage. She used to be very direct and honest and if she chases ya away don' fight it just walk away. If ya cause her grief, yah'll have to deal with me. But wot am I gabbin’ ‘bout... I've already mentioned all that several times," Yardleyu monologized. 
"And I promised to respect her wishes whenever you spoke of them. Nothing is farther from my mind than bothering her. But if I can talk to her, I'll finally be able to make my peace with this. I'm sure you understand that,” Eralion replied. 
"Sure, I understand that. Otherwise, ya wouldn't be here either," Yary grumbled. 

The Ice Lands, Derun of the year 71

The would-be Shepherd paced the barn impatiently, the hem of her robes dragging through the straw that littered the floor but Amelia didn't care. She kept searching her mind for the one piece of information that could turn the tide. 
Lyam's eyes followed her but he said nothing so as not to disturb her. 
Yardleyu had once related the location of the property he grew up in and spoken of a loose floorboard in the building's library where he still kept most of his notes. And that's exactly what his student was trying to remember now because their precarious situation demanded that she does something and for that she would need Yary's notes. They didn't have enough time to search all Voynar for a room with a library that had a loose board in the floor. In its heyday, Voynar had had more than two hundred thousand residents living in myriad houses and even if they only searched the decadent mansions of former aristocrats, they would find more than a hundred huge buildings. And then somewhere out there Kavanagh was waiting for them to make a serious mistake. 
As Logan entered, followed by the other men, Amelia stopped and looked around. Drystan, Cyan, Nyall, Brennan, Lyam, and Adam were here which made them complete. 
"There wus a development that affects us all and I can’t hide it from you. Logan asked earlier why Meyja wus the victim of such an insidious attack and although it wus a very rhetorical question it still holds the key to the whole thin’. While not the key to Meyja's well-bein’ there is a reason she was chosen and this information may help us save her." She paused briefly meaningfully before continuing, "That Cayden, Roarke Kavanagh's son, is a coward, everyone here should be aware. But wot hardly anyone knows... His family only came to power through deceit and manipulation a lon’ time ago ‘cause the ancestors of the Kavanaghs were the first known Soul Shepherds who subjugated shamanism in order to use it for sumthin’ evil. And they were the ones who discovered that with the help of the souls from the afterlife ya can haunt a human bein’ who then acts like a puppet. I guess I wusn' even wron’ when we first met Meyja and referred to her as a spy of Kavanagh. She wus sumthin’ like his spy but without knowing it. I don' know how but he managed to implant the soul of a deceased person in her and with it learned everything we planned and were goin’ to do. The Shepherd that haunts a person can always connect with their victim, see through their eyes, hear through their ears, and even control the body if powerful enough. In Meyja's case this manifested itself in rollin’ her eyes and violently attackin’ Logan and Lyam. Logan said she wanted to break up with the two before leavin’ Waldskorn but it wusn' of her own volition it was due to the Soul Shepherd's influence. Had ya let her go she would have ridden straight to Kavanagh and told him everythin’ he wanted to know ‘bout us that he didn' already know.“ 
Stunned silence filled the barn and the first to speak was Lyam. "But we both know that Kavanagh ain’ a Shepherd himself. He lacks the dark aura and that tell-tale gleam in his eyes that ya can also see in Yardleyu. And when we met there were no 
Shepherds among his ranks either. So, who did this to Meyja?” 
"I don' know to be honest. But from here there are only two ways ‘cause as far as I know an obsession can only be broken in these two ways. First, we need to find the Shepherd who did this to her and kill him. The second option would be technically easier but would we really be willin’ to hand Meyja over to Kavanagh and hope that he would command the Soul Shepherd to voluntarily remove the curse from her?” Amelia looked gravely at the men facing her. 
"If it means she doesn' have to die, I would. And then I'd make Kavanagh pay for everythin’ he did to her,” Drystan murmured. 
“That's like ya, Cunningham. Kavanagh corrupted Meyja, so why shouldn' he just have her... Maybe the plan will work she can break free and yah’ll be fine. But did ya ever think that Logan loves Meyja and he doesn' want to give her out to a sick bastard like Kavanagh?” Lyam snapped. 
"And yah'd rather play the hero, O'Shea? Risk the girl's life and get killed tryin’ to find that Shepherd? Then at leas’ she died in Logan’s arms and he can give her back to the ancestors himself!” Drystan exclaimed mockingly. 
Lyam's mouth fell open, his gaze darting to Logan who was leaning against the barn wall next to him, expressionless staring at the floor. 
Amelia intervened before the argument could escalate. "Please calm down, ya two. It won' help if we hit each other's heads. Wot I really wanted wus for everyone to know wot's goin’ on. And that ya know that nobody is allowed to say a word ‘bout our plans in Meyja's presence. We don' know when we're being overheard and when we're no’. We will clarify everythin’ else in the comin’ days as soon as Logan has been able to sink in this information a bit." 
Amelia knew that Logan couldn’t do anything right now and that Lyam probably had to take care of Meyja's health, so she divided the remaining five men into different jobs that needed to be done while she continued with reading her book. And so, Adam Wright and Nyall Quinn went on patrol looking out for Kavanagh and his men who must now know where the rebels were. Brothers Cyan and Brennan Daly went into the forest and set traps for the ravens after which they would hunt and try to get something to eat. And Drystan Cunningham went gathering herbs so that Lyam could make new potions for Meyja. 
Although Drystan was also a shaman and, unlike Lyam, had almost completed his training, Amelia didn’t dare deny Lyam the task of taking care of Meyja. She was aware of the rift between the two which also involved Logan’s sister Chloe, although she didn't fully understand her role in it all. But of the three shamans, Chloe was by far the best in her field and the most advanced. Should she ever show up it would no doubt be the sensible thing for her to take care of Meyja's health but until then that task fell to Lyam. 
Logan returned to Meyja accompanied by Amelia and Lyam, he seemed very thoughtful and didn't say a word, just pondering what would be best for his beloved.  
She lay motionless in bed, apparently still sound asleep, so he sat on the edge and stroked her hair. Was someone listening through her ears at that very moment? It didn't matter to him because what he had to say to her, they could hear calmly. 
"I love ya, Meyja. And I'll never give up on ya, if there's even the slightest chance yah'll get better and I can hold ya in my arms," he whispered. 
Then he collapsed again and clung to her body crying. Helplessness and desperation robbed him of any rational thought and he couldn't help but sob uncontrollably at his powerlessness in the face of her situation. 
Amelia and Lyam looked at each other in embarrassment and the shaman pulled a small box out of his pocket which he handed to Amelia without a word. She thanked him with a nod for the salt that was inside the container but wanted to give Logan a moment to calm down before she cast the spell. So, she motioned for Lyam to follow her outside to give the couple some privacy and he followed her as expected. 
It was already dusk when they stepped outside and Amelia exhaled audibly. 
"Damn, this vibe really pisses me off," she remarked. 
Lyam knew it was her way of saying that she felt so sorry for Logan and Meyja and he nodded concerned. 
"Will ya tell me why ya don' get along with Drystan?" she asked quietly. "I just want to understand it ‘cause I've seen a little bit of it, too, and I know Chloe was involved, too. And I like to be informed if there are any disputes in our ranks.“ 
"A’ight. But ya won' tell anyone wot I'm ‘bout to say, keep it quiet I beg ya,” Lyam murmured and sat down on the front steps. 
Amelia nodded and replied, “Ya know I think knowledge is power, no’ chatterin’ on." 
"Yes, I know that." Lyam had to chuckle before he began to tell seriously, “It started in our childhood. Logan, Chloe, Drystan, and I grew up in wot is now the destroyed part of Waldskorn. As ya know, Logan and I are the same age just like Chloe and 
Drystan is the same age. Logan and I had been best friends since we could walk but eventually Drystan began to hand around the Hayes family plot and became friends with Logan. After that I was more and more alone ‘cause Drystan wusn' interested in playin’ with me, only in Logan. I later found out why that wus. He wus in love with Chloe. Just like me… I told Logan ‘bout it and he promised no’ to say anythin’. But eventually Chloe came to our house and pretended to play with me. Of course, I didn' turn her away and we went behind the house where there wus a high hedge in which I had made a kind of camp and which I wanted to show her. So, we sat down in the bushes and I proudly presented her with everythin’ I had created with my own hands. That’s when I realised, she wusn' even listenin’ just staring at me and when I asked her wot was goin’ on she kissed me square on the mouth. I didn' know wot to say or do, so I just stood there like an idiot and stared at her, too. Then she turned and ran away. Logan later confessed to me that Drystan put her up to it ‘cause my best friend let it on to him that I liked her.” 
“And that wus far from everythin’ but only the beginning of countless harassments. The end of it all wus that Chloe who wus interested in the old shamanism from a very early age and already knew quite a bit ‘bout it. After regainin’ our self-determination became an apprentice with the giants and wus then supposed to teach herself. In addition to sum strangers, she also had the choice between Drystan and me. But knowin’ that Drystan doesn' really take anythin’ seriously she chose me. I was so happy because I niver stopped likin’ her and suddenly she became my teacher and I could spend all day with her. But I reckoned without Drystan who systematically sabotaged me by sneakin’ into my tent at night and swappin’ the herbs for others. The next day, when I was supposed to mix a potion that Chloe trustin’ in my abilities drank, she developed a terrible rash all over her body and her throat became so swollen that she couldn' breathe. She then chased me away and took care of Drystan instead – as he had planned. I apologised to her more than a dozen times and showed her the jar that wus supposed to have sage in it but it had stinkweed in it and eventually she believed me that someone had played me. But she didn' think it wus Drystan thinkin’ of the other scorned apprentices who she thought were playing a joke. I will niver forget her answer to my question ‘bout my further education... She said: 'Lyam, I'm sorry but I have now started to train Drystan. Just ‘cause we both had a tough start together doesn' mean I can send him into the desert. I swear I'll teach ya everythin’ as soon as Drystan is done.' And as ya know Drystan niver became a shaman, so neither did I. I am and always will be a useless apprentice who can only make a few simple potions. ‘Cause of Drystan Cunningham.” 
"That... must be a joke, right?" Amelia asked raising an eyebrow. 
Lyam shook his head. "No, I'm totally serious. This feud has been goin’ on for ages but I just can’t do anythin’ ‘bout it. He's a lot better lookin’ than me, has a better education and sleeps with Chloe." 
Amelia wide-eyed and laughed in disbelief. "But that’s a joke." 
“In the mornin’ as I left the village of the giants I sat on a stone in the upper square. 
There where people got together who could do sumthin’ with the term shamanism. The fur in front of Chloe's tent entrance wus pushed aside and Drystan came out, shirt in hand. And he blocked the passage lon’ enough for me to see Chloe sleepin’ on the bunk no’ a piece of her clothes on. So, I packed my things and left. I showed up at yer place a little later," Lyam continued. 
"That's incredible. And if I didn' know ya weren' a liar, I'd think the whole story sounds far-fetched. But wot does Logan say ‘bout that?” Amelia wanted to know. 
"I didn' say a word ‘bout it to him. He still thinks it's because of our childhood thin’," Lyam replied. "I didn' think it was right to let him know wot his older sister wus up to. But Drystan no’ only denied me the chance to live with Chloe, but also to get a proper education. And that's why he's like a red rag for me." 
"But ya can still complete yer education," Amelia objected. 
Lyam chuckled. "I'm thirty-two years old, the golden years are over. It wus easy for me to study when I was youn’ but no’ anymore.” 
“Yardleyu will also be thirty in a few months. Nivertheless, he learns sumthin’ new every day and at an impressive speed. Ya can if ya really want it, Lyam. Yah're no’ just sum useless apprentice and ya can do a lot more than mix potions,” Amelia replied. 
Lyam retorted somewhat indignantly, „Yah're comparing me to Yardleyu? That’s unfair, hardly anyone can keep up with him. In the field of magic nobody could fool him at leas’ if wot he says is true. And now as a Shepherd of Souls he's probably even better. It's easy for him, ya know? We couldn' be more different ‘cause he's learned an incredible wealth of skills and I can’t do anythin’. I'm a nobody compared to him and Cunningham.” He slammed his fist onto his knee before leaning forward and cupping his face in his hands with a sigh. 
"That ain’ true," Amelia murmured glancing sideways at him. 
Lyam looked up. "And how, by all the gods, would ya know that?" 
"I just know. And I also know that ya should believe in yerself more to be able to develop yer full potential.” She had a smirk on her lips before she got up and weighed the box with the salt in her hand. "Let's go to Meyja and Logan then I'll show ya how to draw a spell. It niver hurts to know that.“ 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Meyja woke up in a bed she knew and which was in a room she was also familiar with but as soon as her mind had processed this information panic spread through her gut. It was the bedroom in her husband's mansion.
Her heart pounding with fear she looked around for him but he wasn't here, so she scrambled out of bed and feel the skirt of her wedding dress getting in the way.
'Why am I wearing this...?' she thought.
The entire room looked like it did on their wedding night, the skins lay on the floor in front of the smouldering fireplace, and a bouquet of ice roses in a vase stood on the sideboard. But if this was their wedding night then where was Ethan? Sheer fear of him brought tears to her eyes which ran down her cheeks with an almost searing heat, but she couldn't think about that right now because she had to get out of here at all cost, if she wanted to prevent all this from repeating what he had done to her before. She hastily gathered up the fabric of the dress so far that she could stand up and turned to the door to the dressing room which fortunately was not locked and behind which she disappeared.
She closed the passage as quietly as her trembling hands would allow and sank to her knees crying. How could this be? She had killed him and still remembered the emotion she felt as she looked down at his dead, lifeless body. Besides, the house she was in was long since deserted even if all the dust and dirt couldn't be seen anymore it looked almost like it did more than eleven years ago. She had grown up and could fight back even without weapons. In addition, she was no longer Eadda Walsh, but Meyja Blake who had taken the lives of numerous men, women, and children without batting an eyelid. She was an assassin, a Deathshade, and the Indomitable who had risen against the wrongs done to her.
"Derun, help me," she whispered.
The god of the ninth month was not only the ruler of the realm of the dead but also the tutelary god of her guild and she had prayed to him before killing. She had always taken it as Derun's good will that she had escaped with her life each time. And since the stars were still in his favour, his support would help her again, she was sure of it. But when she got to her feet and looked into the mirror which was still on the vanity, she felt cold.
She looked into the face of her younger self. And she looked exactly the same as on her wedding day, her hair pinned up with rose-studded pins, the matching necklace around her neck. Only the black-rimmed eyes were blurred by the tears drawing dark shadows under her eyes.
Suddenly she was Eadda again, young and innocent. No Deathshade, no
Indomitable, but also no blood on her hands which she held in front of her face and looked at. Had her skin really been that soft and flawless once? And even though it was her own body it felt so alien, she had long forgotten how thin and weak she had been back then.
But all that meant was that she had to escape Ethan before he could hurt her again and for that she had to get rid of that damn dress first. The lacing at her back she untied easily by tugging then peeled off the heavy fabric and carelessly tossed it into a corner but the greater obstacle was still the corset around her waist. Her bag was on the floor by the vanity and she was rummaging through it, trying desperately to find her dagger but it wasn't there. Even when she fell to her knees and searched under the furniture where she had hidden it, she could not find anything that resembled her weapon only old dusty cobwebs were there. She had counted on having at least her dagger with her but realising that she had even less to hold against her husband than she thought she lay on her back and cried silent tears again.
But after half a minute she realised that laying there and crying like a little girl wasn't helping her and she got up. If she didn't have a weapon, she still had to escape wearing the silk underwear and corset she so hated. The clothes her mother had made for her weren't here either, nor were any shoes or one of her fur coats only the nightgown was in her pocket, so she pulled it on hastily and then turned to the window.
It was pitching black outside and at first, she couldn't see anything in the black of the night, nor could the window be opened and when she almost wanted to turn away again, she noticed a movement in front of the house. She narrowed her eyes and recognised her family staring up at her with blank faces.
Eadda began banging on the glass with the palms of her hands as she cried for help. "Please... Ya know exactly wot he's goin’ to do to me... Help me... I just want to go home..."
Her mother's lips were moving and Eadda could hear her voice in her head. “Yer home is now with yer husband. Rub yerself with the oil I put in yer bag so ya smell nice when ya lie down with him.”
"He's goin’ to hurt me, I know it, mother. I'm begging ya, please help me..." She looked at Yary and begged, "Yary, ya also know what he's goin’ to do to me. Get me out of here…"
"No, Eadda. I gave ya the potion that will save ya from conceivin’ a child. Share the bed with him voluntarily otherwise he will force ya to do so. And yah'd better spare yerself that.” Yary's expression was as blank as the others' and she could hear the coldness and indifference in his words. "After six years I will help ya but ‘til then we will no’ see each other again. Farewell.”
Eadda watched in disbelief as her two brothers and their parents simultaneously turned and walked away down the path.
"No! Ya can’t just leave me here! Yary! Sean! Father! Mother! Come back!” she yelled and pounded on the window pane but it was useless.
The only people who could have helped her had left and left her to her fate.
Eadda's knees buckled and she fell to the ground. Her family's betrayal sapping any strength she needed to stand in her husband's way or even to stand at all.
'This is a nightmare... It's no’ real...', she thought.
She pinched her arm hard and although she felt the pain she didn't wake up. But were there dreams in which one could feel pain? Or were this death and she had to suffer for all the murders she had committed? In addition, she had given her family – except for Yardleyu – to the ancestors by burning their bodies and Ethan must also be dead, after all she had killed him herself. The jumble of her confused repetitive thoughts was interrupted by the creaking of the door slowly opening. 
Ethan stepped into the room and looked down at her. "Eadda, where are ya lingerin’? The maid has already served dinner and I've been waitin’ for ya for half an eternity. Won' ya join me for a little while? Ain' ya hungry?" 
She could hardly believe her ears. There had never been a maid here, Eadda had always had to cook herself when Ethan had not eaten out which he usually preferred for her skills at the stove had been limited to scorching or oversalting food to the point of inedibility. 
"The... maid?" she repeated softly. 
He stepped towards her and crouched a step in front of her, looking at her worriedly. "Are ya a’ight? Why ya cryin’? And why is yer weddin’ dress layin’ here on the floor?” 
Ethan held out his hands to help her up and after a few seconds of hesitation she grabbed them and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. Then he took the washcloth from the water-filled bowl next to him and gently wiped her face until the dark marks under her eyes were no longer visible. 
He smiled then. "It's better that way," he murmured kissing her forehead gently. 
Eadda no longer understood the world. Why was Ethan so different from what she knew? She had known him as a violent person, unpredictable, and merciless but now he seemed almost caring and loving. Nevertheless, she remained reserved, she didn't trust him and didn't look at him. 
He took her hand and led her over to the comfortably warm bedroom where he sat down on the bed and she sat down next to him extremely reluctantly. 
"Please talk to me, love. If yah're so taciturn, I'm worried,” he pleaded softly. 
"Wot am I to ya, Ethan?" she asked in a whisper. 
He chuckled softly. "I love ya, Eadda. Ya are my wife and ya have brightened my life for almost two years now. And I know that ya love me as well, otherwise ya would no’ have married me against the wishes of yer family.” 
"My family didn' want that?" She did look at him now obviously shocked. 
He shook his head. "They have cast ya out and ya don' speak to each other anymore. Yer father thought I wus a good-for-nothin’ and didn' deserve to marry a Blake." 
"And my brother? Yary?” she asked further. 
"Yary? I niver heard ya call him that. Yardleyu wus the worst of ‘em all. Don' ya remember that he hit ya when I showed up at yer family's home and we told ‘em ‘bout our planned weddin’?” Ethan now seemed more than confused. 
"I'm afraid I've forgotten all that..." She was feeling the heavy loss of her beloved brother in her stomach. 
Ethan nodded briefly. "Well, the circumstances of our marriage were difficult. Very difficult. Ya had many suitors who asked for yer hand but ya chose me. And like I said... When we told yer family, Yardleyu wus so upset that he slapped ya in the face knockin’ ya to the ground. After that he growled that ya died for him, turned, and disappeared up the stairs. Yer parents finally relented in givin’ their consent as ya had adamantly refused to marry anyone else and they feared that, if ya had to, ya would run away to be with me. But ya haven' heard from them since the weddin’ either." 
It took Eadda a moment to process what her husband had just told her, her jaw beginning to tremble uncontrollably. 
"Darlin’, don' grieve," Ethan whispered putting his arms around her comfortingly. 
"It's lon’ gone and we're both very happy." 
His touch did her strangely well and she believed every word he said as she was snuggling into him and fighting back the tears that had welled up in her eyes whilst he stroked her back. Then he put a hand on her neck, kissing her deeply, and Eadda could feel hot desire slide up her stomach into her abdomen. 
She pushed him gently back onto the bed, sat on him, and pulled the nightgown over her head which had previously blocked his view of her underwear. 
"Is… Is wot yah're wearin’ wot I think it is?" he asked. 
She just nodded and pulled one pin after another out of her hairdo until her hair lay forward in red curls over her shoulders. 
"Ya are so beautiful, Eadda." He sat up and untied the knot in the corset's lacing. 
She pulled his shirt off and tossed it carelessly out of bed, he did the same with the bodice before rolling over her and removing his pants. Something deep inside her started screaming in panic and although she didn't want to at that moment, she wanted his body more than anything. Forgotten were the torments he had put her through in another world, forgotten were all the beatings and humiliations. And forgotten was the knife with which he had disfigured her back almost beyond recognition. Eadda had simply suppressed her fear of him, after all there was no reason to fear him and the screams inside her had finally stopped. 
He stripped off her underwear with pleasure and a moment later he was already inside her. 
 
Drystan was still standing next to the bed and Logan didn't dare pull the covers off Meyja's body. He didn't want any strangers to see her when she was in such a helpless situation. 
"Wot ya mean ya don' know how she's doin’?" Drystan was frowning. 
Logan exhaled audibly. "That means she has a fever. But she just won' wake up, so it's hard for me to tell how she's really doin’. It would be nice of ya to leave us alone though, Drystan.” 
"Sure, right away. But I have sumthin’ here for ya in addition to the potions.” Drystan opened his bag and pulled out a flat metal can which he handed to Logan then nodded to him and walked out. 
As soon as the door slammed, Lyam appeared next to Logan and took the container from his friend's hand before opening it and sniffing the contents. 
"Wot's that?" Logan wanted to know. 
Lyam gaped at the exit for a moment before replying, "It's a kind of ointment that works very well against fever. The process of makin’ it is laborious and takes a lon’ time which is why I've niver made any myself. I tried it once and... Well... I failed. 
That's a very valuable gift, Logan." 
"And how do ya use that stuff?" Logan continued while taking the can from Lyam and smelling it himself. 
"Ya rub it on the back. But before that ya have to wash Meyja ‘cause the skin has to be free of sweat and all dirt. Still, I'm no’ sure if she's ready yet." He put a hand on Meyja's forehead. "Her current condition seems stable to me and the fever is no’ life threateningly high." 
"But I don' intend to sit here and wait until her life is in danger. I have to do sumthin’, Lyam. She gets weaker every day that she doesn' wake up and eat. Who knows how lon’ it will be before Yardleyu gets here and we have a plan. If she's ‘bout to die of starvation an ointment won' help her anymore." 
"Nivertheless, she hasn' been in this state for very lon’ and ya once said that she didn' eat very regularly anyway. While she's very slim and doesn' have a lot of fat reserves to draw on in an emergency, I still think it's too early. She is used to it and would go a week longer without food than other humans. If ya trust my advice wait a few more days. We won' let her die, Logan. No’ like this." 
Logan considered Lyam's words and looked down at the jar in his fingers where the gelatinous nearly translucent ointment glistened in the dim light. Then he screwed the lid on and nodded before handing the jar to the shaman. "A’ight. We'll wait a little longer." 
Lyam smiled encouragingly and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Would ya like me to help ya wash and dress her?" 
After another thoughtful moment Logan nodded again. "I don' think she would mind. I have already fetched clean clothes.” 
"A’ight, then I'll get fresh water from the well. And when we're done with that yah're goin’ to eat some soup and then go to sleep. Ya look anythin’ but rested.” Lyam grabbed the washtub and walked out. 
He was right because Logan felt really tired and powerless and since Meyja had fried scrambled eggs for both of them he hadn't eaten much. But his appetite was limited anyway after what had happened he probably wouldn't have been able to eat a bite. 
Amelia was still sitting at the table staring straight ahead, so Logan asked quietly, 
"Wot are ya thinkin’ ‘bout right now?" 
The blonde jumped. "Wot? Are ya gabbin’ to me?" 
"Yes, sorry. I didn' mean to disturb ya. Ya just looked so thoughtful and it made me wonder wot you were thinkin’ ‘bout," he explained. 
She lowered her feet from the chair next to her. "I'm tryin’ to remember where my master lived before Voynar fell. He once spoke about important documents that he hid in the library and which I would like to read because I suspect that there is information amon’ ‘em that could be helpful to Meyja.“ 
"I'm afraid I'm of no help to you. But maybe ya remember the time he spoke ‘bout it. When I forget sumthin’ I always try to think back to where I wus when I heard it. 
That usually helps my memory alon’,” he replied. 
"Well... He was talkin’ ‘bout himself at the estate in Waldskorn. And he said his family lived in an even grander mansion which also had its own library where he hid his most important notes under a loose floorboard. His sister was often too curious and sumtimes read the documents he wrote. Apparently, he loved her very much 
‘cause he didn' want to put her in danger, if she ever got the silly idea of tryin’ any of these,” Amelia mused. "And he also said that his father was a senior army officer and served as a military adviser to Kavanagh. That's why the property is in Voynar's military district... But I don't remember which street he said." 
"Wot happened to his sister?" Logan wanted to know; he had never heard of Yardleyu's story. 
"I asked him that, too, but he didn' know. But he got very sad when he thought ‘bout her," Amelia continued. “The story of his transformation brought tears even to me for he had already seen it comin’, knew of the Virtheriā, and even tried to get an audience with Kavanagh to be heard, but they turned him away. One evening he wus sittin’ in the library porin’ over his books when his siblings rushed in. He knew immediately that they were bein’ attacked and wus tryin’ to magically seal the door when the two beasts broke through. They had already killed the parents in their bedroom then they killed his younger brother who wanted to protect their sister until Yary was finally able to drive them away. According to him nothin’ happened to her but he was bitten, so he sent her away before transformin’. The rest of his story coincides with ours wakin’ up to the giants. So, wot's going on? Why are you crying?" 
Logan looked tired and strangely happy at the same time while tears ran down his cheeks. "It's just... I know where his sister is." 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Cayden Kavanagh descended the stairs to the basement and trudged down the subterranean passage straight toward the family crypt, his face as chill as the wind of the storm that swept across the property.
"Dorcha, report," he ordered curtly and stopped in front of the pale woman in the black dress.
As on his last visit Dorcha sat in the centre of the summoning circle she had drawn on the floor of the tomb whispering dark words to herself incessantly. After Cayden spoke to her it was a few seconds before the black smoke cleared from her eyes and she looked up at him.
"There's nothin’ to report, Cayden. They are either incredibly clever or bunglers who are lucky enough to be outrageous. But wotever the case, they still successfully deny me access to this woman. Find a new toy because she's goin’ to die soon anyway."
He squatted in front of her and grabbed the back of her head by the hair to pull her face close to his. "There is no other toy. I need to know wot these animals are up to and the only way to find out without bein’ spotted is Meyja. So, find her!” 
Dorcha flinched as he yelled the last sentence in her ear, but she said nothing staring at him hatefully instead until he let go of her and got to his feet. 
"They are still in Aryancar. Yer men keep a watchful eye on all roads leadin’ from there and I can confirm without a doubt that they rode there after leavin’ 
Waldskorn. Ain’ that the information you need to take ‘em down?” she hissed. "Or is there more than ya told me?“ 
"Shut up, if ya don' even have the faintest idea wot I'm up to. To complete our plan, we must wipe out these rebels but for that I need my men. All. Each. But if these animals find out that it wus us who made Meyja their tool, they will appear here, and cut a path through our ranks – looking for ya. I can’t afford to lose men before we even start fightin’ for our homeland. That's why ya have to do yer job now, find Meyja again, and do sumthin’ to keep her silent. While I'd rather could have convinced her of our plan now, I don't care if ya kill her or just make her idiotic but she needs to shut up her pretty little mouth. From now until the end.” 
Dorcha exhaled audibly and nodded. "A’ight. As soon as I can get hold of her for even a moment, I will put her into an inner turmoil that will consume her until she doesn' wake up to tell anyone ya were the soul messenger." 
"Good," Cayden remarked reassured and turned to walk away. 
"Wait." She rose. 
"Wot is it?" he asked impatiently and went back to her. 
He noticed that the almost white irises of both her eyes were surrounded by a blood-red ring, but before he could ask her about it, she kissed him demandingly on the mouth. He tasted her desire, wrapped his arms around her slim body, and kissed back just as greedily but they didn't have time for each other, so he pulled away gently albeit reluctantly. 
"It's been too lon’..." Dorcha breathed longingly. 
Cayden nodded. "I feel the same way. But unfortunately, I have no time for ya and ya just as little for me. When all of this is over and we're out of harm's way we'll spend at least a whole day in bed together, I promise." 
She looked up at him with her large strangely coloured eyes. "Wot if it's niver over and one of us dies? I need to feel ya again, Cayden.“ 
"There's just too much at stake. With every additional minute, our chances diminish immensely. I'm pinin’ for ya, too, but now we have to behave like adults and endure this. Please understand…” he pleaded urgently. 
"I'll do wot I can. For ya, Cayden,” she whispered. 
He nodded again and murmured a soft thank you. "Wot happened to yer eyes anyway? Why this red border?” 
Dorcha looked away in embarrassment. "It's only because I spend so much time doin’ the incantations. Ya know how dangerous it is to handle the souls of the dead.” 
He kissed her briefly on the lips. "Yes, I know that. We'll see each other soon. Take care of yerself." 
She didn't reply but he could feel her gaze resting on him almost piercing until he was out of sight. If she failed to find access to Meyja's spirit, he would have to kill Dorcha himself for under no circumstances could he risk her failure thwarting his plans for Voynar. Cayden loved Dorcha with all his heart but his homeland was more important to him than her and even thousands of lives would not weigh it. As soon as there was any danger of the rebels moving toward the estate and his unready army, he would have Dorcha's head cut off and send it to the enemies as an offer of a truce. 
With Cayden finally gone Dorcha closed the crypt's doors behind her and stepped back into the summoning circle with a smirk on her lips. It amused her that he was trying to keep things under control and yet it was he who hadn't the faintest idea what she was planning. 
She had regained access to Meyja's thoughts the day those bunglers had pulled the ridiculously simple spell that wasn't even reinforced with appropriate spells. If she wanted to all she had to do was say a few words and she could wreak havoc on this woman’s mind into irrevocable deadly chaos but she had more important things to do that affected her own agenda. And until Cayden found out about her she was done not to cause further damage to Meyja out of sheer disinterest. 
"Rthryldra zsha krthum..." she whispered over and over until her vision blurred and the black mist returned, she tilted her head back and looked up. "Where were we?“ 
The scraping sound of stone rubbing against stone told her the spell had found its target and she sat down calmly on the floor. 
"Godwin Rakuven's corpse, if I'm not mistaken," replied a cutting voice that seemed to pierce through marrow and bone and sent a pleasant shiver down Dorcha's spine. 
She nodded slightly. "Yah’re by no means wrong. But ya know where I can find it?" 
"Of course, I know that. I'm just surprised that you don't know. Haven't the children of Voynar been taught anything?” the voice remarked and laughed terribly. 
She couldn't help but giggle softly before she replied, "Don' tease me. Ya should be aware it is commonly believed that Rakuven died from the plague, after all he let the rumour spread himself before dyin’. But that's a lie ‘cause I know he was killed by a man." 
"Oh, yes? And by whom?” the voice hissed. 
Dorcha took her time answering but finally breathed, "Roarke Kavanagh." 
 
Yardleyu stepped out into the night naked and shivered as the storm's freezing winds hit him, so he crouched in the snow and transformed to get the clues over with as quickly as possible. It had been many weeks since he had last released the animal within him and he felt a heavy weight lift from his shoulders as he took a deep breath and let out a long deep howl. At first, the Virtherion's keen senses overwhelmed him but he quickly got used to it and sensed a figure behind him. Growling he spun around and saw Eralion standing in the doorway who must have been a bit startled by the aggressive tone he had uttered and therefore backed away. 
"Wot ya want? It's stormin’, go in and lock the entrance or we'll freeze tonight,” Yary growled scratching the silver-grey fur behind his ear. 
"Can’t I come with you? Please?” Eralion closed the door behind him and pulled the cloak tighter around his body before taking a few hesitant steps toward the massive beast. 
Yardleyu let out a sigh. "A’ight… Let's go." 
With the unwelcome companion in tow the Virtherion turned right first and followed the road towards the barn where they kept their horses. Though he kept getting on all fours and digging his snout in the snow he found few scents that he recognised. 
It wasn't until they approached the place where Logan and Lyam had taken Meyja that Yary stopped and hesitated. With his paw he carefully pushed aside layer by layer of snow until he found the blood that had been hidden underneath. 
“There wus a fight here. But it's been too lon’ and I can’t smell whose blood that is," Yardleyu noted with concern. 
Eralion stepped up to him and said, "It doesn't seem like much is life threatening though." 
"No’ that but it's disturbin’ and suggests that sumthin’ must have happened that caused ‘em to relocate. Movin’ at this time of year is almost suicidal in this country, so there must have been a really serious issue that forced ‘em to make that decision,” Yary explained. 
"So serious that they might even have considered Voynar?" Eralion asked. 
"I don' know," Yary said softly. "If yah're no’ cold anymore but feel a deep tiredness let me know. A stranger like ya probably doesn' notice in time when he's startin’ to freeze to death." 
Eralion nodded silently and the Virtherion continued on his way, moving towards the buildings where it wasn't so windy that he couldn't smell anything at all. The scent of horses rose in his nostrils, the digested grass in the horse manure and the smell of the leather of the saddles but in between there was a nuance that caught his attention. He opened the barn door a crack and waved Eralion through before pushing himself through the entrance. It was pitch black in the stable building but that didn't bother Yardleyu, he could still see enough with the little light from outside. 
But the Virtherion was not concerned with what he saw but with what he smelled. 
It was the unmistakable aroma of fear that bit his sensitive nostrils. Logan’s fear. Right next to his sister's smell. 
"She wus here. I smell Eadda. And Logan. He wus scared,” Yary summed up and walked in circles sniffing the air. 
"Of Meyja?" Eralion wanted to know still standing at the gate unable to see anything. 
It took a few seconds before he got an answer. "I don' know. Lyam wus here, too, but there wus only a faint scent of fear comin’ from him..." 
Yardleyu had said a little about the rebels on the voyage to the Ice Lands – though he hated the term rebels – and Eralion remembered the names of the two men. The fact that they only had two women in their ranks didn't strike him as strange. But that one of them was spearheading this endeavour had made him very curious about the group. He could imagine conflicts between Meyja and the leader, if two such strong personalities disagreed. 
"What if there was a fight? Would that be a reason to move in winter?” Eralion asked. 
Yary's clumsy footsteps came to an abrupt halt. "A fight? Wot makes ya think that?" 
"Well… You talked about the leader and I imagine her as a strong woman who will always remain at the wheel. Meyja also doesn't shy away from arguments, if she thinks something is unfair. I think it's possible that the two of them might not have got along very well," Eralion explained somewhat hesitantly. 
"If they hadn't gotten alon’, Amelia would have thrown my sister out and chased her away. Then they would still be here ‘cause that would no’ have been a reason to risk such madness,” Yary retorted indignantly. 
"And Amelia doesn't know that Meyja might be your sister?" Eralion asked. 
Yary growled, "I didn' tell anyone ‘bout Eadda because I didn' even know if she wus alive. So no, she doesn' know. And nobody else either. I don' appreciate bein’ constantly asked questions ‘bout myself or my family.” 
Eralion just nodded and didn't say anything about the broad hint that Yardleyu must have given him out of his curiosity but he doubted his theory could be completely ruled out. During the time that Meyja had spent in Sharaya he had noticed again and again how much she changed and adapted to the circumstances in which she lived. Although there were certain traits that were very typical of her and also remained. In his opinion this included among other things the unshakable penchant for truth which was still incredibly important to her even when it hurt the person it affected. 
She had hurt him, too, when she had confessed what had happened between her and Raemur. At the same time, he could understand why she had given in to his wooing because her insatiable hunger for physical love never seemed to be satisfied whereas togetherness was more important to him and he had preferred to show his affection in the form of chaste caresses. 
The knowledge of the violence she had experienced in her marriage had always inhibited him and he had felt as if he would belittle her as soon as he was a little harsher on her although she had wished for it and had been annoyed, if he spared her too much. Six years of daily abuse had taken their toll on her and had dulled her sensibilities, so he'd sometimes had a couple of shots of booze before visiting her that he could at least shed his inhibitions for a while. But in the end, all his efforts had become worthless in a single evening exactly when Aron stood in the door. 
"Let's go back inside and sleep. It's late and we'll have to leave very early tomorrow," Yardleyu grunted pushing the gate open. "I don' yet know where our journey will take us but we'll find out.“ 
 
After Eadda finally climbed off her husband, they had laid side by side. While Ethan soon nodded off and was now sound asleep next to her, she stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. She held a finger of her left hand to the entrance of her sanctuary so that Ethan’s seed would remain inside and hopefully she would conceive a child. She wasn't tired and would have liked to get up, but she didn't dare yet for fear of ruining the chance of conceiving. When she thought of a possible impending childbirth her heart trembled with fear and yet at the same time her greatest wish was to be able to experience this miracle. She wanted to feel the changes in her body as her belly started to grow until she could no longer wear normal clothes and she wanted to know what it felt like when the unborn child started to move inside her. 
Ethan had been an adult for some time while she was almost a child herself and her body wasn't fully formed, so she wouldn't even consider herself a woman. This circumstance immensely increased the risk of her dying in childbirth and yet she wanted it more than anything else, she really longed to be able to hold her new born in her arms. So, she lay still patiently, holding the seed inside her, and thinking how wonderful it would be to have a family. 
Half an hour later she noticed that the liquid was starting to stick to her finger as it slowly dried up and she raised her hand to her face to look at the remains of the whitish-transparent pleasure juice. She was not unfamiliar with the sight of it but it amazed her that something so seemingly innocuous could actually create a new human being. 
"Avonia, grant me conception I beg ya," she whispered before closing her eyes and praying silently. 
She kept rubbing the semen between her fingertips until a few tiny globs of it fell onto her forehead and she blinked with a soft sigh. Ethan was still asleep and she looked at him, the long white-blonde hair shaved off one side of his head and the beard growing down his jawline. She was by no means aware that this face did not really belong to her husband, instead to Logan but she felt that she loved this face with all her heart. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Eadda removed her cloak and went upstairs to her sewing room where the maid had already laid down the fabric for the new dress she was thinking of making. Realising that she never seemed to get tired, she had found a job and decided to become a tailor, so she had spent the past few nights making the patterns and adapting them to her small stature. The property was larger than it was in reality with Ethan’s room having another one for her upstairs, a dressing room stuffed to the brim with her rich robes, and a washroom with a bathtub. In the basement in addition to the kitchen and the extraordinarily magnificent salon there was also a pantry, a room where the maid washed the dirty laundry and the room where the servant lived. In the basement there were barrels with wine and on the wall, there were shelves where perishable foodstuffs were stored.
Eadda's fingers stroked the dark green, soft fabric and a smile crossed her face. She hadn't expected to find anything at the market but now she couldn't wait to get down to the sewing machine and finish the robe to surprise Ethan in when he got home. He was on duty until evening and she now had time to attend to the dress, the maid she had asked to prepare supper for them to eat in the salon. Eagerly Eadda spread the fabric out on the table and cut out the individual pieces which she pinned together and skilfully sew them with the machine.
A few hours later, she was able to admire the robe on her tailor's dummy, and more than satisfied with her work she decided to take a bath before Ethan returned home. Since the maid was already busy with the supper, Eadda went to fetch water from the well herself and warmed it over the fireplace, but she gladly accepted the help of the servant who carried part of the buckets. She sent her immediately back to the kitchen so that nothing burned.
She lolled in the warm water for about half an hour before towelling off, combing her hair, and rubbing her body with a scented oil. Dressed only in her finest black silk underwear she finally went back into the sewing room and took the robe from the doll which she slipped on. The fabric felt very comfortable against her skin and when she looked into the large full-length mirror that stood in the corner, she realised that the dress fitted her body perfectly, and the cut even showed off her assets which made her quiet elicited joyful cheers. Then she went downstairs, checked on the supper which was already smelling wonderful, and then sat down on the sofa in the parlour where she waited with an embroidery work on her lap for her husband to finally arrive.
Not long after she heard loud voices outside and she rushed to the window watching Ethan and three other men approach the building.
'Damned…', she thought.
She hadn't expected him to bring visitors as it had never happened before but now it was polite to invite the guests to dinner as well. So, she told the maid that she had to prepare something else as soon as possible so that it would be enough for the three grown men who just came in the front door noisily and laughing. 
When she stepped out of the kitchen into the hallway to greet her husband and his comrades they stopped and stared at her in astonishment. 
"Good evenin’, gentlemen. I'm Eadda, Ethan’s wife,” she greeted, cheeks flushed with nervousness. "Welcome to our humble abode." 
"Ya didn' lie, Walsh. All respect,” one of the guys remarked slurring. 
Eadda realised that all four men and her husband were already heavily intoxicated and now she didn't know how to act. It was not proper to have drunk when visiting someone and thus the teacher who had socially prepared the young woman for marriage before had never mentioned what to do, if someone did not obey this rule. So, she secretly decided to just pretend the men were completely sober because she felt it was right not to offend her guests but to be a good hostess. 
Ethan gave a rapturous grin and replied, "Why should I have lied... Please go ahead to the drawing room, we'll be right behind ya." 
Just as he was about to push Eadda through the kitchen door, one of the guys remarked, "But don' forget ya promised us sumthin’ to drink, Walsh." 
"Niver. Just give me a few minutes,” Ethan replied whispering to his wife. "Hurry up, in there!" 
With a low exasperated groan, he followed her, closing the door behind him, and leaning against it before looking around the kitchen. 
She saw the guilty conscience in his eyes. "Yes, I wus plannin’ a nice evenin’ for both of us until you showed up here with a bunch of drunkards. But that's no’ too bad, we'll just make up for it. Just tell me they like to eat fried chicken and boiled potatoes.” 
"Eadda, yer greatest concern should no’ be that yah’re providin’ for these idiots as one would finance a noble guest. They are simple men, the sons of random peasants and blacksmiths, and they don' know the customs of our kind anyway. But that's exactly why we have to be careful because they are known to go over the top." 
"Why do ya brin’ sumone like that into our home? Are they yer friends?” she asked. 
"Friends?" Ethan repeated with a short laugh. “No, I certainly wouldn' call them my friends. I thought they might be when they invited me for a drink after work. But afterward, they wanted to move on and find sum easy girls which I politely declined. Then we sumhow got to talkin’ ‘bout ya and they demanded that I describe ya. I only said ya are so beautiful that I have no interest in any whores, so they wanted to see ya, and they wouldn’ stop followin’ me here. I'm so sorry, Eadda…“ 
She waved it off generously. "It's nothin’. They can stay for dinner, if they want and then I'll pretend to have a headache to make ‘em leave." 
"No, no food, that would take too lon’. I'll get a bottle of liquor from downstairs and when they finish, I'll throw ‘em out, I promise,” Ethan whispered urgently. 
After Eadda nodded, he turned, and disappeared behind the door to the basement while she informed the maid that the guests would not be staying for dinner and that she could stop working on it. As Ethan returned with a bottle of ghost wine, they walked over to the parlour together where the drink was greeted with a hoot. 
Eadda stood a little unsteadily next to the men who were seated on the sofa, feet up on the table in front of them, then she started to turn to get a chair from the dining table when one of the guys grabbed her arm laughing and pulled her onto his lap. 
"Where ya goin’, honey?" he whispered and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. 
"Let her go, Padraig. Here's your liquor," Ethan remarked and dropped into the empty chair, putting the bottle noisily on the table. 
Padraig laughed again but he let go of Eadda, albeit not before stroking her bum which she simply left uncommented since there would have been no point in scolding a drunk anyway. 
One of the other strangers, apparently not yet as dazed as Padraig, addressed Eadda. "Please forgive me, ma'am. We've already had a little drink and Paddy here doesn' take quite as much alcohol as Odhran, Ethan and I do. My name is Cathasaigh and I appreciate yer hospitality.” 
"Don' call me Paddy, ya idiot! And besides, I'm no’ the only one here who's already misbehaved.” Padraig retorted and all four men roared with laughter. 
Eadda looked a little startled at her husband and he confirmed still giggling, "He really did. But to his credit, the general ain’ a particularly nice person. His face as he stepped into his boots the next mornin’ wus priceless. He turned crimson and yelled through the entire barracks that he would cut off that person's head himself, if it wus found out who it wus.“ 
"He still didn' find out it wus me," Cathasaigh remarked with a grin. 
Odhran added, "Because none can stand him. So, ya can consider yer situation safe.” 
Still standing around Eadda went to get the chair as she had planned while Ethan placed glasses on the table and poured liquor into them. 
When she was finally able to sit down, she found one for herself and protested, 
"Please, gentlemen, don' be angry with me if I don' drink." 
"That's out of the question," Padraig grumbled and pushed the glass into her hand. 
"Okay, but only one think. I don' feel very well and I'll go to bed afterwards," she murmured resignedly and raised her drink. 
"On Heaney's pissed boots," Cathasaigh intoned laughing and they clinked glasses, Eadda now having to smile as well. 
"Yer wife seems to have a sense of humour I assume, Ethan," whispered Odhran grinning. 
"She's perfect like I said before," Ethan replied with a loving smile directed at her. 
Eadda winked at him and sipped at her glass before replying, "And yet I have to scold ya, love, ‘cause ya niver told me ‘bout the pissed boots." 
"It's no’ even the funniest story. General Heaney is the target of pranks all the time but he just doesn' seem to understand it has sumthin’ to do with the way he treats the soldiers," Padraig noted. 
"Are ya soldiers, too?" Eadda asked. 
"We're no’ soldiers, ma'am, we're officers. Even though Ethan and I are majors, and Odhran and Padraig are still lieutenants,” Cathasaigh explained. 
"It's only a matter of time," Ethan said. "Even though I know for a fact that Heaney wouldn' be spared should ya two get promoted." 
"Oh, one day we will be also generals and get pissed in our boots." Odhran waved him off indifferently and Padraig nodded giggling. 
Eadda smiled. "Then ya have to tell me sum of these funny stories please. Has 
Ethan already done sumthin’?” 
“Oh yes, he certainly has.” Cathasaigh drained his glass before reporting, “He put nails between the saddle and the blanket that Heaney's horse is saddled with before the regiment marches off, a little while ago. The squire who always does this didn' notice and led the horse to Heaney who wus already standin’ in front of four companies rantin’. When he climbed into the saddle and the nails went into the animal's back, he flew in a high arc into the mud. He tried it three times and kept getting’ thrown off while ‘bout a thousand soldiers stood in front of him strugglin’ no' to get wet laughin’.” 
"Ya did it? I walked around with wet pants the rest of the day,” Odhran admitted with a grin. 
The men spent two hours recounting various pranks to which General Heaney had fallen victim and Ethan fetched bottle after bottle of ghost wine from the cellar. Although Eadda only drank a glass of each, she soon felt very cocky and laughed boisterously at her guests' jokes but then Ethan gave her a very definite look and she stood up. 
"Well then, gentlemen. It wus a very fun evenin’ but yah'll have to excuse me ‘cause I'm tired and I'd like to go to bed," she opened. 
Cathasaigh protested drunkenly, "No ma'am. Stay a little longer. We really do enjoy yer company.” 
"Then maybe we'll have to repeat that at some point but I've had enough for today, forgive me," she smashed off his reply. 
She then wished everyone a pleasant evening and went upstairs to the bedroom where she stripped down to her underwear and put on her nightgown before laying on the bed and closing her eyes. 
She was almost asleep when her calm was shattered by a cry of pain that sounded like her husband's and she jumped out of bed in alarm, left the room, and ran down the stairs into the parlour where she stood breathless. 
Ethan was laying on the floor in front of the fireplace and staggered to his feet when he noticed his wife. "Eadda, please forgive me, if I woke ya up. I wus just kiddin’, I'm fine”, he apologised in a slur and stumbled towards her. 
His breath was now also acrid and she asked, "Ethan, it's really late, don' ya think so? Why don' ya come upstairs and let our guests head off so they can sleep off their intoxication, too, okay?” 
Cathasaigh got up and also walked towards her, his eyes on her skimpy nightgown. "I don' think it's very late, Eadda. The night is still youn’ and we've only just started to really have fun..." 
Ethan sensed the threat before Eadda felt a whiff of it, sobered up in an instant, and stood protectively in front of her. “Keep yer hands off her, Cathasaigh. I warn ya." 
"Wot's mine is yers, too. Remember that beautiful sayin’, Walsh?” Cathasaigh purred grinning. 
Ethan shook his head vigorously and replied, "That doesn' apply to wives. She's the most important thin’ I have and yah're no’ goin’ to hurt her, ya get that?" 
Cathasaigh's gaze locked on him for a moment then he quickly swung his fist back and punched Ethan so hard in the face that he fell to the ground and lay motionless. 
"The buffet is open..." he murmured, grabbing Eadda's wrist to pull her towards him while the other two also got up and came over. 
"Ethan, no! Wot have ya done?!” Eadda cried out in terror and tried to tear herself away to check on Ethan while not worrying about herself at the moment. 
Padraig remarked, "He will survive. Maybe… but now to ya, beauty. How ya like it?" 
Now she knew where this was going and she hissed, "No’ with ya but with my husband. Alone. In our double bed in the bedroom. Get out of here or ya will be held accountable.” 
"Okay, then in the marriage bed..." Odhran grinned and grabbed her feet while Cathasaigh grabbed her upper body and she was lifted. 
She struggled, kicking, and screaming, calling for Ethan, but he was still unconscious as the men dragged her out of the drawing room and up the stairs. 
Padraig opened the first door on the right and announced, "This ain’ a bedroom but I have an idea..." 
They carried her to Ethan’s room and Padraig pointed to a large hook attached to a beam in the ceiling. The moment the other two looked up as well Eadda wrestled her ankle out of Odhran’s hand with strength overcome by adrenaline and fear and kicked him sideways in the head. 
He immediately let go of her, groaned, and grabbed his temple before looking back at her and whispering with a menacing grin, "I love it when they’re so stubborn..." 
Then he stepped up to her and gave her a slap that would have sent her into the realm of dreams, if she wasn't already dreaming, but the force only gave her a ringing in her ears that she couldn't hear anything else. 
When Eadda came to her senses, she was completely naked, her hands bound and fixed in the hook, forcing her to stand on tiptoe on a stool in the centre of the room. The guys had a noose around her neck, the end of which was tied around the beam which would no doubt strangle her, if she got her hands free and jumped off the stool. Cathasaigh was the only one of the guys not in the room but Padraig and Odhran sat opposite her in two chairs, staring at her in quiet delight. 
She knew instinctively what they were going to do to her and swallowed a few times but her fear for her husband was far greater than she could ever have been for anything these guys might do to her. 
"Wot are ya goin’ to do? Where's Cathasaigh?” she asked quietly. 
A few seconds later, she heard the maid scream from downstairs but her scream stopped abruptly and Eadda began to cry. 
"Please... let Ethan live... He's your friend..." she begged. 
"He used to be but he just greeted his ancestors," Cathasaigh remarked flatly as he came back and closed the door behind him. 
"No... That's no’ true..." Eadda wailed desperately. 
Cathasaigh smirked and walked towards her and took her face in his bloody hands. "Is that enough for ya or do I have to go get his head, love?" 
"Ya swine... Ya filthy swine... Why are ya doin’ this? Ain’ all the easy girls in Voynar enough for ya? Why me? And why did Ethan have to die just ‘cause of that?” Eadda sobbed. 
"’Cause it's fun," Cathasaigh replied happily and his two accomplices nodded affirmatively. 
Padraig stood up leaving Cathasaigh in his seat before walking around Eadda a couple of times and stopping behind her. 
She could hear him fumbling with his clothes but didn't hear him pull out his belt. The next moment he slammed the leather across her ass and a searing pain ran through her body causing her to whimper in agony and the other two to grin. 
Padraig continued to torment the helpless woman with beatings for a while whilst Cathasaigh rolled cigarettes and began to smoke relaxedly with Odhran. 
"Come on, Paddy. I'll be soberin’ up already,” Cathasaigh muttered. 
"If ya don't like it, ya start," Padraig replied annoyed. 
Cathasaigh smirked. "Ya know exactly why it's my turn last. I'm going to get sum liquor. At least the Walsh couple won' be drinkin’ anymore.” He laughed and left the room. 
"Give me also a cigarette, Od," Padraig murmured sitting down in the armchair. 
"Then ya can continue for now. She's no’ beggin’ me enough..." 
"Ya fucking sadists can’t get a boner as long as the women don' scream like crazy," Odhran remarked with a laugh but he got up and slowly walked toward Eadda. 
He stubbed out his cigarette butt on her upper arm causing her to squirm and try to avoid him but it was useless so she kicked his crotch with a foot but he turned away quickly enough. 
"Did ya see that? The little bitch wanted my crown jewels,” he exclaimed in disbelief. "She can have that..." 
He undid his pants and slid them down over his bottom before grabbing Eadda's ankles again and placing her lower legs on his shoulders then he thrust into her viciously with his hard core and took the crying young woman until she screamed. 
Cathasaigh returned just as Odhran had discharged himself and remarked dryly, 
"That wus quick today." 
Odhran turned to face him, breathing heavily. "She's just damn tight." 
"I see... Holy shit, Od. Ya fucked her bloody,” Padraig remarked with a laugh and slapped his knee. 
Eadda hung limp in her handcuffs looking down at the floor she could also see the blood running down the inside of her thighs and at that moment she lost all courage to face life. They had already done horrible things to her and seemed far from finished with her, so she pulled herself together and did a little hop while unhooking her bonds and falling forward off the stool. The noose around her neck kept her from falling but it cut off all airflow at the same time and Eadda kicked her feet rattling only inches above the wooden floorboards. Only when it was already getting dark before her eyes did she feel strong arms that lifted her up and placed her back on the stool, her hands were clasped over her head again, and she looked coughing violently into the disgustingly grinning visage of Cathasaigh. 
"Ya may die if we allow ya, Eadda. But we still need ya here a little longer”, he whispered angrily and blew the stinking cigarette smoke in her face. Then he turned to Padraig and whispered, "Hurry up a little, she won' last much longer and I also want to have my fun with her." 
Padraig nodded and got up to allow Cathasaigh to sit in his chair before stepping around Eadda unzipping his pants and entering her. Moaning, as he thrust into her, he repeatedly slapped her head and butt hard making her cry and whimper insanely in pain. Cathasaigh, realising that her pain wasn't enough for his companion, got up and slapped Eadda repeatedly until the skin on her cheeks burned red and she cried out with each additional smack. When Padraig was almost done, he nodded to Cathasaigh and Cathasaigh removed the noose from around her neck before unhooking the bonds and letting the young woman fall to the ground. She hit the wooden floorboards painfully and curled up protectively on her side. 
"Then let's brin’ this to an end," Cathasaigh whispered bending down to whisper directly into her ear. "It was a great pleasure to have made yer acquaintance, Eadda. 
But yah'll soon know why they call me the guy who always attacks from behind." 
He pulled her onto all fours and Padraig knelt in front of her which instinctively made her jaw clench as hard as she could, wide-eyed as she looked up at her tormentor who was holding her neck with one hand so she couldn’t dodge him. Then he pinched her nose with two fingers and she realised he was trying to trigger the reflex that made her open her mouth and gasp. Tears ran down her bruised cheeks and he could read the fear in her eyes as her reserves were almost exhausted. Still, she persevered, already seeing lights dancing in front of her eyes when she heard Cathasaigh undo his pants the belt rattling tell-tale then she felt a finger at her back entrance shoving brutally into her gut and she just gave up. She opened her mouth had just taken a breath to scream when Padraig thrust down her throat making her choke again thinking she was going to choke miserably. He held her head and kept thrusting deeply until she suddenly vomited the contents of her stomach most of which spilled out of her nose due to the blockage in her gullet. But Padraig didn't even notice, instead nodding to Cathasaigh again and Cathasaigh then drilled his hard centre into her bottom, moaning at the choking spasms he could feel running through her body. 
A few seconds that felt like hours to Eadda in the unspeakable pain Cathasaigh was causing her, Padraig finally came as well and fell backwards panting heavily. Eadda was still gagging, vomiting between the screams that rose from her battered throat. The agony was worse than anything she had ever felt and she roared face pressed into her vomit until finally Cathasaigh finished with her as well and pulled out of her bleeding bottom. 
"Ya were right. The little one is tighter than everyone else so far,” Cathasaigh remarked with a groan and fell back in the chair. "It's a shame she has to die now. 
Hang her.” 
Padraig and Odhran grabbed Eadda's arms and placed her back on the stool where the former held her so Odhran could put the noose around her neck again then he kicked the small stool out from under her feet and she hung squirming like a fish. It was getting darker and darker around her, only the faces of her tormentors were in her field of vision and they watched as her body twitched weaker and weaker and her gaze finally broke. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

Eralion stepped into the barn and only glanced around for a moment before turning to Logan who had followed him and was now closing the gate. The horses kept in the stalls still looked a little nervous but they quickly calmed down when there was no immediate danger.
"Well, frankly, I still wonder why Yardleyu brought ya from the south. So far, he hasn' given us an explanation”, Logan began seriously.
He was still bare-chested, but he didn't seem ashamed of his exposed body either as he took a few steps towards Eralion and folded his arms.
“At the risk of repeating myself. My name is Eralion Mason and she probably just never mentioned it,” Eralion replied quietly.
“By she you mean Meyja… And no, she didn'. I have already heard from a certain Aron. And from Ethan...", Logan answered slowly but surely able to imagine who was standing in front of him.
'So, yah're one of the slackers...', he thought.
Eralion gritted his teeth. "Then I was probably insignificant enough to just exclude myself from all stories." Suddenly he seemed even sadder and more depressed than before. “She didn't even tell me about her homeland. I guess I was that unimportant the whole time.” 
"I didn' mean that. To this day, we didn' even know Yardleyu wus her brother, so in a way we all feel betrayed by her. But she can’t even tell us why she kept this or that secret”, Logan mumbled and dropped his arms. 
"Meyja has always been mysterious and secretive, at least in the past five years that I've known her. She kept her entire guild in the dark about her identity, we didn't even know for a long time that she was the most famous and feared assassin of Sharaya. I don't think there is anyone who knows her and doesn't feel duped by her,” Eralion replied chuckling softly. 
"Wus that her? I had no idea”, Logan replied and leaned against the wooden wall of the barn next to Eralion. 
Eralion nodded. "Yes, she was. And in a way, she's still a legend that people talk about every now and then. She called herself the Indomitable, that was her title. You have to know that in order to get a title you have to kill another assassin. Our guild was called Deathshade but all that fell apart after Aron's death and Meyja's disappearance." 
"So, yah're an assassin, too?" Logan asked. 
Another nod from the dark-haired man. "I was. But unlike Meyja and Aron I was nothing more than a bad joke. The two were absolutely deadly, had plenty of money, and loved each other in a way she could never have loved me after he suddenly came back." 
"Wot happened? I know she was engaged to Aron and that he wus killed but I don' know the details and background," Logan explained. 
Eralion shook his head gently before asking, "No, I have one more question first. You said you love her… But does she love you as well or are you just one of her many suitors who don’t enjoy her true affections?” 
"Ya mean like Kavanagh? No, I'm no’ a desperate lover, I'm her partner. She said she loves me and I saw the truth in her eyes,” Logan replied eyeing Eralion carefully so that he didn't miss Eralion's concerned reaction. 
"I see," Eralion murmured. 
The assassin’s heart tightened painfully and he had a deep need to talk but he didn't know if Logan was really the right person for this but one look at the blond man was enough to make him forget any doubts. 
"Well... After she showed up in Sharaya our boss Ed chose Aron as her teacher which got around very quickly among us Deathshade, after all Meyja was the first woman to be given this honour. I met her myself a while after that when we happened to meet at Ed's store. She was picking up some packages that she was delivering at the time while I was taking a new order and the boss then introduced us. Meyja was personable and exuded that dark secrecy that makes her more than attractive to any man in his right mind but I didn't count my chances and didn't try to get in touch with her again. A little later, she and Aron were a couple which I found out from one of the other men who also worked for Ed.” 
”This was a big deal because our boss didn't condone connections within the guild especially since Aron was responsible for taking down people who got uncomfortable. I don't know how the two managed to convince Ed to let them be but eventually he was almost a friend to their love for each other. If you know Ed you know what a concession that is and admittedly the rest of the Deathshade were more than astonished by this development. Meyja and I still bumped into each other in the shop from time to time but we didn't share more than a friendly smile and a greeting.” 
“She soon committed her first murder which earned her a title upon entry into the guild something none of the Deathshade had ever achieved. The celebration that was held in her honour became a legendary evening at which Aron also proposed to her. We also danced together that night, Meyja and I... And I fell head over heels in love with her even though I thought I would be one of the unlucky men who had to admire her from afar forever. But on the day of their planned wedding Aron disappeared without leaving a message as we thought. I helped with the search for him but he just couldn't be found and Meyja also disappeared from the scene shortly afterwards for all the other Deathshade. In hindsight I think she was waiting for the moments when none of the men were in the shop to collect her new orders or the rewards for the quests she had completed. I caught a glimpse of her once on the street and she seemed emaciated and so desperate that it gave me a pang.” 
“When Aron had been gone for about a year, I went to the bar one evening where I drank once or twice a week and there, she was sitting at a table all alone in a corner of the room. I had never been so amazed at anything as finding her there that day of all days and I sat down next to her. It was a beautiful evening and we laughed a lot, drank, and she almost seemed like she was having fun. We were so drunk I couldn't remember much afterwards but the next morning she was laying next to me in my bed and told me we did it that night. I still loved her and when she made moves to leave, I revealed my feelings to her before I lost sight of her again for years. She asked for time to think and disappeared.” 
“It went months without hearing or seeing anything from her when suddenly she came back to my door and told me that she wanted me by her side. I still don't understand this decision to this day even though I was happy about every minute I spent with her. In contrast to Meyja and Aron I was downright pathetic. She made ten times my gold, was the best of the Deathshade, and I could never hold a candle to her but she actually chose me as her partner. I knew about her husband and what he had done to her but we did it from time to time, although I always felt very uncomfortable doing it because I was afraid of hurting her. She didn't admit her love to me I don’t know why.” 
“The evening our relationship ended was the evening Aron suddenly appeared in the door of her flat. I saw him and knew immediately that it was over because I was sure that she never stopped loving him. And that's how it happened. She immediately packed her things and informed both of us that she was leaving town. Then she just turned and disappeared. Aron was beside himself. He hadn't seen her for two years and since he had a very turbulent personality, he followed her. She didn't exchange another word with me apart from her decision I never found out what was going on inside her. Except that she was glad about the miscarriage she suffered with my child... It ripped my heart out of my chest. I vacillated between loving her and hating someone who doesn't even honour innocent unborn life.” 
“They had been gone for almost another year, I had just gotten my miserable existence back on track and didn't dream of them coming back. That day I went to Ed's shop and through the glass of the door I saw Meyja. She saw me, too. And I don't know what got into me at that moment but I walked in and tried to kiss her while my heart had started bleeding again. But she avoided me and I was so hurt that I immediately went back out to the street and wanted to run away but she followed me and tried to stop me and said that it hurt her not being able to be there for me. I hugged her and kissed her until Aron ran out of the shop and pushed me away. Today I know what a mistake that was... The next moment Aron sagged and I caught him...” 
“Meyja killed the attacker but it was too late because Aron died laying on the snowy street without me being able to do anything. One must have heard her halfway across town screaming, screaming and crying so heartbreakingly..." Eralion took a deep breath and when he looked at Logan again, he saw tears of dismay in his eyes. 
Logan swallowed and asked huskily, "Wot happened after that?" 
"Three of us had to rip her off Aron's body and bring her to the store. I have never seen anyone brought to their knees by grief and the loss of a loved one like Meyja. You can’t imagine how just looking at her made six venerable men who had killed scores of people weep. But everyone stood around her crying and helpless while I sat with her on the floor and hugged her being unable to really help her. This swoon…” He was silent for a moment. "Then the others decided she had to leave Sharaya, cut her hair, packed her things, and took her to the city gate while I stayed in Ed's shop and broke down because she had been taken from me once more. Now I know where her path led her – here. She has been through so much that it would just be wrong for her to die from a fever at such a young age.“ 
"It's no’ just a fever, Eralion. She's possessed. Haunted by one of the darkest Shepherds this world has ever seen,” Logan mumbled flatly. 
"But what the heck does that mean? I didn't understand anything that was said in there.” Eralion pointed roughly in the direction of the building where the others still were probably waiting for them. "The only thing I realised is that she is close to death." 
“Haunts deal with the otherworld where the souls of the deceased reside used by those dark wizards, we call Shepherds of Souls to do primarily evil. Yardleyu and Amelia are also Shepherds of Souls but unlike Dorcha Kavanagh they still have honourable goals. And they will try to save Meyja... At least I hope so... Before there ain’t much more left of her than an empty shell and the memories in our heads..." Logan started to cry softly. 
"I'll do anything to help, Logan. Yardleyu took me to the Ice Lands so I could talk to Meyja and finally find my peace with everything that happened. If she should just die before I can, then... then..." Eralion replied. 
He also burst into tears at the helplessness that united the hearts of the two men at that moment. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

When Yardleyu felt his sister's body in his arms, he turned and walked slowly towards the lake which’s warm water he soon felt on his feet. Through the veil that lay before his eyes he only saw the magic in the area, so he had added a spell to the runes drawn around the Unseen Lake so he would know where to go. 
Arriving in the middle of the water, he began to speak. "Rthryldra zsha vylrhum... 
Rthryldra zsha gryrhan... Rthryldra zsha vylrhum... Rthryldra zsha gryrhan..." 
He lowered Eadda's red-hot with heat body into the warm water, holding her back with one hand just below the surface, and resting the other hand on her forehead while his voice rose to a loud growl. 
Something stirred inside her, making her body tremble, and he tried to reach it recognising the dark magic emanating from the black glowing abyss that opened up. The certainty that it had been Dorcha who had haunted his sister found him in that moment and he fought the horrific spell with all his might. The haunt struggled fiercely and he could feel it clinging, tearing, and tugging at the mind of Eadda. 
While Yardleyu struggled with the alien soul for the life of his younger sister Amelia, Logan, Eralion, and the three shamans stood at the edge of the Unseen Lake, heard with horror the dark words that the Soul Shepherd roared, and involuntarily backed away. 
"It's wron’... The lake is sacred and this magic will corrupt it forever..." Chloe whispered aghast. 
"And yet it's the only chance Meyja has left," Amelia replied but they could all hear that she wasn't sure of her own words anymore. 
Rather everyone present felt their natural fear of the situation which everyone felt the same way and which seemed to increase immeasurably. 
Yardleyu, on the other hand, only felt in those minutes how powerful Dorcha must be by now and his own weakness as well as that he wasn't strong enough to take the evil out of his sister. However, he wasn't ready to give up and did everything he could to save her. If only he had returned sooner... Then Eadda would still have been conscious and could have helped him banish the darkness from her body. But she just hung trembling and twitching in his arms kept moaning softly and he noticed that she was getting weaker. Weaker and weaker until finally he had to feel in desperation that the thread by which her life had hung was snapping. 
A few seconds later the figure of the Shepherd emerged from the fog, Meyja was laying in his arms, her eyes were open but the gaze was empty. 
"She's dead," Yary whispered through sobs laying her lifeless body on the bank. 
"No!" Logan yelled running towards his lover and throwing himself down next to her. "Meyja, no! Ya can’t just leave! No’ so! No’ now! Wake up! Wake up, wake up, wake up!" 
He held her crying, rocking her back and forth, screaming, and begging her to wake up. 
Yary also sat in the midst of all the pain, sobbing, and knowing in his heart that he had killed his own sister. 
The others also began to cry at the desperation of the two men, only Eralion stood there dumbstruck and couldn't believe what had just happened. 
Eventually Logan stood up and yelled, "Kavanagh! If ya can hear me, know that I will avenge her! I'll tear ya apart with my own hands! And yer bloody sister, too!” 
His unbridled anger caused the Virtherion to erupt within him, transforming him with a loud angry growl. 
Chloe stepped in his way, raised her hands, and yelled, "Logan, no! Do ya think she would have wanted that?!” 
"I don' care! I want revenge! Now get out of my way!” he barked furiously. 
Eralion stepped next to Chloe he also was crying. "Stay here, Logan. And listen deep into yourself... Meyja would niver have wanted ya to run headlon’ to yer death. She must have loved you as much as you loved her. Calm down and I swear ya will get yer revenge ‘cause I will stand by yer side. But no’ now. No’ yet." 
"Listen to ‘em, Logan. I've known her my entire life and she really would have wanted it that way,” Yary murmured also still sobbing. 
The snow-white Virtherion paused for a moment then fell to the ground whimpering and the man behind the beast reappeared, crouched on the rock, and weeping. 
His sister knelt down next to him and hugged him rubbing his back while tears were still running down her cheeks. 
"I'm so sorry, Logan. So indescribable..." she whispered. 
He couldn't hear her, too much the pain that had given way to anger was numbing his senses and he couldn't stop thinking about her. At her laughter, at the tears, she had shed over some trifle, not knowing how precious their moments together had been and he hadn't had the slightest idea how soon she would be taken from him. 
Yardleyu kept staring into her face, her black eyes, and pale skin. If he had been asked before, it would never have occurred to him to say that she would no longer be beautiful once she died. But that's how it was. She wasn't beautiful anymore. Death did not suit her but made her face ugly. He recognized his own weakness in her face his inability reflected in her blank gaze. 
Lyam came to Meyja's corpse, knelt, and closed her lids with his fingertips before draping one of the blankets over her. 
Hours later, as dusk fell over the Ice Lands, Drystan rose from sitting on the warm rock near the Unseen Lake. 
"I'm really sorry to disturb yer grief but it's getting’ dark and we should get off this cursed mountain," he remarked cautiously. 
Chloe looked over her shoulder at him and nodded then got up and helped her brother to his feet who had stopped crying and just sat apathetically staring at nothing. 
The Virtheriā transformed one by one Yardleyu cradling his sister's body and Lyam letting Eralion climb back onto his back before slowly moving towards the edge of the plateau. But before they reached the cliff, the giant form of an Are blocked their way. 
Chloe recognized the eldest of the people, their chief shaman, and she hastily transformed back into a human, falling to her knees in front of Arnor. 
"I beg of ya... It wus no’ our intention to desecrate this holy place..." she begged, even though she knew he could not understand her. 
The Are angrily pointed his staff at her and directed her aside before stepping past the shaman and stopping directly in front of Yardleyu. 
"Meyja..." Arnor whispered. 
He took her lifeless body from her brother's arms and threw the covers aside before placing a hand on her cheek to feel what had happened to her. When he looked back at the Soul Shepherd, he could see that his pupils had dilated and he was looking at him in amazement from deep black empty-looking eye sockets. Then the giant went to the lake where he laid Meyja on the shore. 
Arnor stripped off his cloak and much of his clothing and lifted Meyja's naked body with ease holding her in his hands as he now stepped into the water of the Unseen Lake. Before he could be seen through the mist he turned and gestured for the people to lay down which they did without questioning him still too disturbed to think clearly. 
A few seconds later the giant had disappeared into the haze but they heard his voice, then soon Meyja coughing softly which made Logan and Yardleyu immediately start crying again. 
"Is she alive?" Eralion asked hopefully. 
Drystan nodded and replied quietly, "Sounds like it..." 
The Are's angry voice echoed across the rock plateau but they still couldn't see him laying on their stomachs staring across at the water. Yardleyu and Logan were holding each other while they feared for Meyja. 
When Arnor raised his voice again the wind picked up quickly building to a hurricane, sweeping the wisps of mist in a fierce current of air, spraying the waters. In the calm centre of the whirlwind stood the giant, holding Meyja only by the head with outstretched arms so that her body almost seemed to float in the still air and screaming similar words as Yardleyu had used before. 
The rebels pressed to the ground to avoid being swept away by the storm that swept over them with incredible force. When Meyja started screaming, as if she was in excruciating pain, Logan tried to get up to reach her but Chloe and Drystan did hold him so that he could not rush to her. 
The sky was growing darker and the Are's white skin and unnecessary runes shone brightly as stars amidst the twilight that seemed to emanate from Meyja soon becoming darker than the blackest night. Despite the darkness, they could still see exactly what was happening, even if they couldn't believe it. A matte black form resembling her own body rose from the young woman’s inside, crawled back, and was pulled out again, seeming to struggle against the force that was relentlessly tugging at it while Meyja still screamed. Although no one had had the slightest idea of what a soul could look like on the physical world when not appearing like a mist they all were aware at that moment of the relevance of this form, for it was the affliction itself that was Arnor was just trying to talk out of her. 
When Meyja and the soul were connected only at the hands and feet the giant let go of her head and clasped the rearing form of the soul in his hands which radiated tremendous heat and scorched his skin so that it stunk like burnt flesh, yet Arnor kept yelling his spells madly. Strangely enough, Meyja’s body didn’t fall either. 
The wind headed in the direction of the ritual whipping away across the prone humans towards Arnor before becoming utterly still for just a split second. But the next moment, the entire lake seemed to explode with a blinding flash of light that swept the air over the rebels with incredible force causing them to cling together in blindness and panic. 
A soft splash broke the silence that followed and yet no one could see what had happened. 
 
Cayden knelt and lowered his head until he felt the heaviness of the metal imposed upon him by the cleric of the royal family in the form of a crown. 
"Rise, Cayden Roarke Kavanagh, First of Names, Ruler of the Ice Lands and Lord of the Kingdoms of Voynar and Destrothos." The cleric stepped back bowing his head in humility. 
"Thank ya," Cayden remarked as he straightened then turned to the applauding force, he had gathered all around him on the day of his coronation. "My faithful companions, although I am yer king I am no’ a great speaker, so I will make it short. Ya are the true people of Voynar, the true people of Abarglen and together we will rule this world. A world free of Jevarish tutelage, free of Blackeyes, and free of the foul mutations.” 
A roar of cheers broke out but Kavanagh raised his hands and the crowd fell silent again. 
"We're goin’ to finish off every one of ‘em make them bleed the same way they made us bleed. That promise is sealed today with the death of a wolfman and the death of a southerner. Bring ‘em here!” 
Silence fell over the hill where the fanatics had gathered as four prisoners were dragged forward, spat on, and eyed with hatred by the Voynarian King's followers. 
The men were Adam Wright, Nyall Quinn, and brothers Brennan and Cyan Daly who Kavanagh's people had arrested at Aryancar while trying to defend the rebel bastion. The four already looked very battered had obviously been beaten and abused, Adam could hardly open his eyes which were blue and swollen. The three 
Virtheriā didn't look all that bad but they also had bruises on their faces and arms. 
To protect themselves from the beasts each of the three was held in the middle by long iron chains. 
Arriving in front of Kavanagh, Adam was brutally kicked behind his knees, and left sitting in the snow with his head bowed in fear. He had already known what awaited him and resigned himself to his fate whereas the Virtheriā had to restrain themselves lest they transform in front of the assembly and be killed instantly. 
Still, Brennan kept ranting and turned to Kavanagh when he faced the self-proclaimed ruler of Abarglen. "Yah're goin’ to pay for this, Kavanagh! I swear to all the gods!” 
Kavanagh laughed. "Oh! Hear, hear! The beast still believes in the gods! But let me tell ya, disgustin’ beast, that the gods have forsaken ya today. I have just chosen ya from amon’ yer ranks and yer punishment will be death.” 
"No!" yelled Cyan and looked over at his brother dumbfounded. 
As he tried to break away to reach Brennan, the chains around his neck were tightened, and he fell to the ground gasping. 
Amused by the prisoner's suffering Kavanagh spoke up again. "This specimen still calls itself Cyan Daly but it's no more than an animal that doesn' deserve a name." 
He looked at Cyan in disgust and spat in his face before stepping back in front of Adam and Brennan who were sitting resignedly in the snow pointing his finger at each one in turn. "This one ain’ an animal yet he's allied with ‘em. Adam Wright is a man of Jevarish and stands by our enemy Jemar Forsyth. The other one here is one of the beasts that slaughtered our families without mercy or honour. I hereby sentence these two traitors to death. This judgment will be carried out by my sister Dorcha 
Kavanagh. Come to me, my love.” 
A slender figure emerged from the crowd, leisurely stepped forward, and removed the hood of her floor-length snow-white fur coat as she walked. Dorcha's cheeks were sunken and her eyeballs were blood red while her pale irises were almost white. The Shepherd of Souls had shed what remained of her humanity and been rendered undead by the malevolent darkness within her. 
The murmuring of the crowd stopped instantly and like the prisoners, the Voynarians stared up at the horrid apparition of Dorcha who had halted beside her brother with a diabolical smirk. 
No one could see that Cayden felt a shiver of fear at the sight of his own sister because he didn't show it just gave her a nod of encouragement and then stepped aside. 
With the enforcer's appearance the prisoners fell silent, too, staring up in mortal terror at the horrific woman standing over them. 
"Who wants to die first?" she asked smugly, feasting on the fear of the men sitting in front of her. 
When she was met with only silence, she gave a short shrug, closed her eyes, and began to mumble. 
"Rthryldra zsha xhephcan..." 
It repeated over and over until she was in a kind of trance then she opened her lids to reveal the crimson haze swirling around in her eyeballs but in contrast to the black veil the red mist left her skull, pouring out, and slowly moved toward her two victims. As soon as the two doomed were touched by it, they began to scream in agony, writhed in pain, and rolled in the snow until they lay on their back’s mouths gaping. 
Dorcha bent down and placed a thumb on each rebel's forehead, causing their bodies to buck one last time before laying lifeless in the snow. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

After Meyja had only received a disappointingly meagre breakfast the next morning, Logan led her to Eralion accompanied by Yardleyu and Lyam. Chloe had explained to her that overeating could be dangerous as she hadn't eaten a bite of solid food for far too long. And so Meyja was satisfied with a tiny bowl of porridge. 
Lyam, too, was overjoyed that the combined care of the shamans had been so successful and that Meyja was in such a stable condition that she could already call for her weapons again and cause trouble. Less pleasing was the fact that she kept looking around, almost frantically looking for her husband. 
"Honey, I told ya he's no’ here right now. Calm down ya are surrounded by people who will protect ya. Nobody protects him”, Logan whispered putting an arm around her shoulders. 
  "I just don' want to be surprised. He's still a threat,” she growled. 
She'd checked out the command post the day before for a decent blade but she seemed to be the only one fighting with daggers for there had only been swords in the racks. The simple knives weren't suitable for her purposes but in the evening, she finally got her own weapons back from Logan. 
"Yah'll find Eralion behind it." Yary pointed to a tent a few meters in front of them. 
Meyja stopped. "Yah're no’ comin’?" 
"No, it's probably better if the two of ya gab to each other in private first. Besides 
I'm sure ya have a lot to gab ‘bout that shouldn' be meant for our ears,” Yary replied. 
Logan nodded in agreement but you could see that he didn't like being left behind. 
"Have him take ya back to the command tent when ya two are done." 
"A’ight." She kissed him again before approaching the tent with one last nervous look over her shoulder. 
The grinding sound of metal on stone echoed across her and she could feel her hands shaking. Her last reunion with Eralion had ended fatally for Aron and she had to blink at the thought of her deceased fiancé. She had never forgotten him never stopped loving him, although she loved Logan almost as much now. However, she was unsure of her feelings for Eralion who was sharpening a sword with his back to her. The only thing that was certain in this respect was that he had travelled more than halfway across the world to see her and for that reason alone she owed him this meeting. 
Knees weak and palms sweaty she stopped a few paces behind him, eyes fixed on the back of his head, wondering what to say but before a word left her lips, he turned to her. In his eyes she saw surprise and joy as she herself stood there with her mouth half open and just stared at him in horror. 
Eralion hadn't changed much in appearance other than a horrible scar running across his face, starting on his forehead, the mark parted his right brow, continued below his eye, and ended at his jawbone. From the colour she could tell that he must not have been injured long before and scabs still covered a small part of the cut. 
"You finally woke up." He was putting down the sword and walking towards her. 
She returned his hug and replied, "Yes, I am. But how are ya? Wot happened to yer face?” 
"Oh... that... never mind, that happened at the battle of the Bluffs. One of Kavanagh's warriors caught me with his sword. It's only thanks to Chloe and Lyam that it healed so quick, they took care of me almost as devotedly as they did you. And not for nothing it seems to me.” He smiled as he released her. "But now tell me... How is your health?" 
"Good, thanks. I can’t complain at least no’ in terms of my physical condition," she replied. "When were ya wounded?" 
“About a month ago after that I stayed here in the village and have been taking care of our fighters' weapons ever since. That means I grind swords, axes, and the like half the day. I had to make myself useful somehow.” Eralion spoke quickly letting his words sound casual in order to get quickly to his question. "Don't you want to come in? It's cold out here when you don't move.” 
She nodded silently and followed him into his tent in the centre of which stood a fire basket in which lively flames crackled and it was so warm that she pushed the pelt off her shoulders. 
"You Voynarians apparently just doesn't feel cold," he remarked with a grin but he also took off his coat and pointed to a stool. "Can I offer you something? I don't have much but there's still some salt meat. I could also make tea.” 
"I'm no’ allowed to eat much yet. Chloe says it could be dangerous since I slept so lon’. But a cup of tea is certainly no’ wron’,” she replied. 
He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. "Please forgive me for not thinking of it." 
"It's okay nothin’ happened," she murmured while watching him fill a small pot with snow and put it in the fire basket. 
Then he sat down on his bunk and examined her more closely. He had only seen her with ginger hair on the black day that Aron had died and had wondered about it because he had been mistaken in believing that she was dark-haired. But now she was sitting in his tent, ginger-haired, blue-eyed, and beautiful just as he remembered even if she was almost as thin as when Aron had left her. Unlike at the time, however, she didn't appear skinny because she wasn't feeling well but looked healthy and he suspected the weight loss was probably due to lost muscle. 
"You look great. Healthy,” he remarked clearing his throat. Then he looked embarrassed at his hand and removed some dirt from under his fingernail but she immediately noticed the reddened cheeks and Meyja blushed, too. 
"Why thank ya," she replied. "Ya seem a little battered but I'm probably no’ tellin’ anythin’ new. Apart from the injury ya also look good. I don' mean that ya don' look good with the injury but it's an injury after all. Wot am I gabbin’ ‘bout, actin’ like an idiot..." She closed her eyes and tilted her head back shaking it gently. 
"I know what you mean and thank you very much." Eralion made a noise too soft to place. 
When she opened her eyes and looked at him again, she found it was an amused chuckle he was trying to suppress. "Stop laughin’ at me right now... I'm warnin’ ya..." she hissed with mock seriousness. 
He couldn't hold on any longer and burst out laughing which she joined a few seconds later because the situation was just too funny. 
It took them several minutes to regain their composure and both had tears in their eyes from laughing. 
“It's still the same as in Sharaya. Glad you're still the same," he said. 
Meyja had to admit, "It's similar but no’ the same anymore. Much has happened since then and I've changed. I don' think for the worse but I'm no’ quite my old self anymore. Ya also are no longer exactly like in Sharaya, ya, too, have experienced things..." 
He nodded a little more seriously but by no means gloomily. "I did, you're right. It's beautiful up here in the north, even if it's very cold, I would get used to that. But what I can’t get used to is Kavanagh, his people, and the views they hold. Do you know he wants to take Jevarish? Right after he killed us all here along with the giants?” He wasn't one to get angry but now he did.  
She had never seen him like that but now she could clearly feel that the anger had gripped him. "Yes, I know and I wus stupid enough to save his life in Sharaya. Far too often I believe in the good in people but most are just plain mean. I hate myself for savin’ him. If I could make this decision again I wouldn' stop Aron from doin’ it..." She hastily pressed a hand to her mouth when tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. 
"We buried him appropriately though admittedly the ceremony was terrible." Eralion took a deep breath and blinked. "It rained that day and it was like the gods weeping for a great warrior." 
"Were his ashes buried?" Meyja asked crying. 
He nodded. "Yes, I put them in the jar you always kept the Philos herb in. Then I carried them out of town and buried them on your tree. Your mark can still be seen in the trunk. Just below now lies Aron Gray, the Unseen, in eternal repose..." 
"Thank ya, Eralion. Though I wish I wus there...” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed as all the memories of Aron came back. 
She heard Eralion stand up then felt his arms wrap around her in comfort. "It must be awful to lose a loved one and not be able to say a proper goodbye. At first, I thought about scattering his ashes but then there would have been no place for you to go back to mourn.” 
"It's really an awful feelin’. But it seems just as awful to leave sumone behind and walk away without speakin’ to them again.” Her eyes were swollen when she looked at him again. "That's why yah're here, ain’ it? ‘Cause I didn' say goodbye properly?" 
Eralion knelt beside her and looked back for a long moment his cheeks wet before nodding. "Yes, that's why I'm here. I just had to see you and talk to you. About everything that happened. Try as I might I just couldn't forget you. You were everything to me, Meyja Blake. A part of me will always love you because you were my one true love and the only true love I will have in this life. I could never tell you all that because you didn't give me a chance. And when you left because Aron came back, I could handle the disappointment because it was because of another man that you really loved. But that one day when you had to leave again it was like having my heart ripped out of my chest.”  
“I couldn't leave the guild alone but at the same time I thought every second about where you are and how you are doing. I couldn't get over this loss and that was the really terrible thing about it. To have lost you again. But now that I've met you and seen that you're doing okay under the circumstances I can finally make my peace with everything. But please answer me one question... Have you ever loved me?“ 
She looked back and felt an unspeakable pity in her chest. "Ya always were important to me, Eralion, and still are now. But after Aron disappeared and I just didn' know if he wus alive or dead I just couldn' feel anythin’ anymore. There wus this emptiness in me that suppressed everythin’ else even the pain of losin’ our child. If ya had asked for my hand, I would have married ya without hesitation, so I guess I loved ya in a way, yes. But I still couldn't feel it... No’ like when I look at Logan..." 
He nodded and cried big tears that rolled down his cheeks as he continued to look at her. "Thank you, Meyja. Thank you for these frank words. I know you can’t force feelings, so maybe we just shouldn't be happy. But I really hope for you that you can find happiness with Logan. He is a good man, always nice, kind, and concerned about you.” 
"I'm so sorry, really..." she whispered with her jaw trembling. 
"No please. It's okay believe me, exactly as it is now. You took an immense burden off my shoulders by being honest and telling me that everything I've done for you wasn't in vain.” He started to smile and hugged her again squeezing her tightly and stroked her back. "Together we will bring down Kavanagh, I swear to the gods. I will not rest until we free Voynar and Jevarish from this man’s scourge. Side by side and in friendship.” 
"Eralion?" A female voice suddenly sounded from the entrance of the tent. 
He let go of Meyja and wiped his eyes. "One moment, please!" he called. 
"Who is that?" Meyja asked softly and dabbed her cheeks with her sleeve. 
"Niamh. She's always chasing after me but she's just too young..." he whispered. 
"Damn, I forgot about your tea now all the water has boiled away." 
"It doesn't matter I'd better be on my way now so that ya won't be disturbed," she replied and waved him off. 
"Please stay here. I don't want to be alone with her. I'm sure she'll leave as soon as she finds out I have visitors.” He looked at her pleadingly. 
Meyja laughed out loud and nodded. 
"You can come in, Niamh!" Eralion called before lowering his voice again and whispering a soft thank you to Meyja. 
As Niamh slipped into the tent she stood in astonishment and regarded Meyja with undisguised suspicion in her ice-blue eyes. The young woman was extremely pretty, with half-length light blonde hair which like Logan she wore shaved on one side of her head which gave her a daring look. 
"Who is that, Eralion?", she wanted to know and looked back and forth between the two. 
"I'm Meyja Blake, nice meetin’ ya," Meyja replied getting up and holding out her hand to the younger woman. 
Niamh lashed out nearly knocking Meyja over as she bumped her shoulder into her opponent's. "Niamh MacNamara." 
She really had strength and wore a sword on her belt, suggesting she was trained through combat practice and was most likely a warrior. 
Meyja turned to Eralion and said, "I would like to go now but Logan asked me to tell ya that ya want to take me back to the command tent. If ya don' mind, I would be grateful, if we could just accommodate this request. It won' take lon’ either I promise." 
"Of course. I'll be right back, Niamh, then let's see your sword, shall we?” He smiled at Niamh and winked. 
The blonde just nodded silently as Meyja and Eralion made it out. 
"Make yourself some tea until I get back!" he called over his shoulder then he grabbed Meyja's arm and pulled her with him as he quickened his pace. 
Only when they were out of sight did he slow down again and exhale audibly which made Meyja smile. 
"She's cute," she remarked. 
He gave her a blank look. "That may be so and I like her, too, but she's only twenty-one." 
"Twenty-one? She is a grown woman, Eralion, no longer a child. If she does show interest in ya, it is sincere interest, and no’ naïve reverie.” 
"I'll be thirty-two this year so she's eleven years younger than me," he whispered. 
Meyja threw her hands in the air. "So, wot? Ya may no’ even be the first man she's interested in. And I'm only twenty-five ya didn' have a problem with my age either. If ya like her, and she wants ya take her before sumone else who ain’ as good-hearted as you is." 
"You think so?" He still wasn't entirely convinced. 
"Wot's in it for me to lie to you?" she retorted raising an eyebrow. 
He thought about it for a moment then he smiled. "I'm sure you can do the last five meters on your own, right? I still have something important to do, if you understand..." 
"Have fun." She winked at him before he turned and ran back the way while Meyja watched after him with amusement and felt a deep sense of relief because he had probably just buried the ashes of her former love. Then she turned and entered the command tent where Logan was already waiting for her. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

The next morning Meyja woke up before Logan again and stole outside. She suspected that she slept so badly and briefly because she had stayed in bed involuntarily for so long. She was also tormented by constant hunger and the knowledge that her husband was still alive which was also not very conducive to sound sleep. To be on the safe side she drew one of her daggers and kept it concealed blade up to be able to defend herself in an emergency. Her plan was to visit the Ares to finally thank them and offer her condolences for Arnor's passing which she felt responsible for. She had been shocked to learn of the elder's death although Arnor had been terrifying in his own way, he had shown kindness to her and for that she was more than grateful. 
She headed for the tent where Askil had taken her years before, but holding the fur aside she saw that it was empty. Thoughtfully she walked on trying to remember where she had slept that time. 
An Are crossed their path and headed straight for her. 
"Glad to see you, Whisperer," he greeted her kindly. 
She stopped and looked at him but didn't recognise him until he stopped in front of her, got on his knees, and looked into her face. "It's Askil." 
She looked at him in astonishment then a big smile crept onto her face and she hugged her old friend effusively. 
"I'm sorry I almost didn' recognise ya. It's been so lon’..." she whispered. 
"That's it. And I’m pleased to seeing you again unharmed. You're safe, aren't you?” He let go of her and eyed her with concern as his eyes locked on her face again. 
"Yes, I am. By and large, at least,” she said. 
"You're in turmoil, I can feel it." He looked at her worried. 
She waved him off. "It's fine just a few minor events over the past few days have kept me awake. But tell me please how things have been for ya in the last few years.” 
Askil showed his snow-white teeth with a smile. "I am doing great. I have a wife and have become a father. Let me introduce you to them both.” 
He got up and took her tiny hand and led her back down the hill to the tent which Meyja now recognised after all because she had spent a night here before she was brought from the Ice Lands. 
"Have you eaten anything yet?" he asked. "Aaltje cooks excellently." 
"No’ yet, no." Meyja was a bit embarrassed by Askil's undisguised joy. 
“You already know my tent.” He held the skin aside in front of the tent entrance and called out, “Aaltje! We have visitors!" 
The Whisperer entered hesitantly and looked around. "It seems they are no’ at home, Askil." 
"Oh, then she must have just gone somewhere and took Aie with her," he remarked. "Please sit down I'm sure they'll be right back." 
Meyja climbed onto a stool and Askil sat down opposite her while she looked around again. "It's a little cramped in here, ain’ it?" 
"The entire village has become cramped since the humans have been here but I don't want to complain. It's just fine for us,” he said but she could see he didn't mean it. 
"Please tell me the truth, Askil." 
Her blue eyes met his gaze until he sighed softly and bowed his head. “The humans cause a lot of trouble, to be honest. We actually assumed that after we freed them, they would return to their own homes but they stayed. Even those who are obviously unfamiliar with shamanism are still here although we don't understand why. We always hoped that there would be some way for us to communicate with the other people to find out what was going on. But you're still the only one able to talk to us, Meyja." 
"This is Kavanagh's fault. He threatened anyone beyond the cliffs. So, it would be good if we plan a meeting for everyone so that we can clear up these misunderstandings as quickly as possible,” Meyja replied. “And there were other developments in the human realm that yer people should also know ‘bout. Beside… 
I have something else to say…” 
When she hesitated Askil asked, "What? Just say it you don't have to fear me." 
"I'm aware of that. It's ‘bout Arnor… I feel bad ‘cause he gave his life for mine,” she murmured. 
Askil placed two fingers on her cheek. "Meyja... Little Meyja... Don't grieve for Arnor. He was by far the wisest of us and knew what he was doing. I have already said that you will have an important part to play in the history of Abarglen, if not the most important at all. Your life is more valuable than any Are’s could ever be and Arnor knew it. His suicide has strengthened you and a part of Arnor will live on in you. A sliver of his soul so to speak. You will soon emerge as the most powerful mortal this world has ever known. Honour his memory and honour his gift to you with devotion.” 
She looked at Askil, her jaw trembling. "I wish I could thank him for that." 
He put his hand on her chest. "He's a part of you and feels your gratitude every second." 
"Thank ya, too, Askil." She smiled. 
He returned the smile. "I know what you're getting at... I would never have left you at the Bluffs or done anything to you, let alone any other Are would have done. You are incredibly strong and special, each of us can feel that.” 
"Meyja!" A call echoed through the village. 
"This is Logan," she remarked and left the tent, Askil following her. "Logan!" 
He had already hurried further up the mountain and turned hastily when he heard her then ran towards her and hugged her breathing heavily. "Wot are ya doin’? Why didn' ya wake me up again?” he demanded and gave her a quick look to see if she was okay. 
"I'm fine." She waved him off. "I'm no’ sleepin’ very well right now and I just didn' want to wake you up." 
Logan’s gaze found Askil. "Who is that?" 
"This is Askil, he rescued me at the Bluffs before I had to flee Voynar. We happened to run into each other and he wanted to introduce me to his family who seem to be on their way.” She turned to the Are. "Askil, this is Logan Hayes, my partner.“ 
"I'm very pleased, Logan. You have a remarkable woman by your side,” Askil remarked. 
When Meyja turned back to Logan he whispered, "Why is he so angry? Wot did ya say?" 
"Far from bein’ angry he gave you a friendly greetin’ and said that ya have a remarkable woman by yer side." She raised an eyebrow in astonishment. "Wot makes ya think he's angry?" 
"His tone sounded like it and he looked terribly angry but come to think of it ya also sounded pretty angry." Logan looked back and forth between the two obviously confused. 
Meyja nodded and said in Askil's direction, "It seems to me that no’ only yer language is incomprehensible for the humans but also the tone of voice and the expression. Logan was just askin’ me why ya were so angry." 
“That seems to be due to decades of alienation. In the past people could at least do something with our gestures and faces. And it explains why so many people seem afraid of us.” Askil was visibly saddened. "Please tell him I'm not angry at all, I'm happy for you both." 
"Askil believes that this false assumption comes from the fact that humans and Ares have stayed apart for so long. Ya don't have to be afraid of ‘em and he emphasises that he's no’ angry but happy for both of us.” She smiled and thanked the Are. 
"It's nothin’. I'm no’ afraid but sum of the others have expressed concerns ‘bout this. We need to call a meetin’ and gab about all this. There were certainly more misunderstandings we can clear up,” Logan suggested and nodded to Askil. "If ya feel up to it, of course." 
“I have already suggested that ‘cause the Ares also have reservations ‘bout the humans who still live here and have no’ returned to their villages and towns. They didn' know ‘bout Kavanagh and his threats.” She looked at him steadily. "So, there were really big misunderstandings that we need to clear up no matter how I feel. I am and will probably remain the only whisperer for a while.” 
"Fine, if you want it." Logan sighed. 
She turned back to Askil and asked, "Could ya invite yer people for a meetin’ tonight? Then I will take care of my people and call everyone together.” 
Askil nodded directly. "Of course. We'll meet on the cliff, there should be enough space for everyone there.” 
"Agreed. I'm really very sorry that I won' be able to get to know yer family but I will come back again, I promise. Only now I'd rather go with Logan otherwise he'll be afraid that I'll overdo it.” She winked mischievously. 
He grinned, too. "See you tonight. I was very lucky, Logan.” The Are nodded to the man and then disappeared back into his tent. 
"Well then we also have a lot to do until tonight." She looked at her companion and on the way to the command tent told him everything Askil had said. 
 
Even before dusk fell both the giants and the humans had gathered at the cliff. Meyja and Airikr who would lead the discussion together with her stood a little higher and looked contentedly at the gathering of their two peoples. 
"We are gathered here to clear up all the misunderstandings that have existed between the Ares and the humans in the past. Many of those present are probably no’ even aware there really were misunderstandings,” Meyja began nervously. “Let me start by sayin’ that the inner rage that the Ares have been imputed to have been no’ actually displayed by ‘em. It has been decades – if not longer – since our peoples met and accordingly a devastating alienation took place which has now culminated in the fact that we humans can no longer even correctly interpret the facial expressions and gestures of the Ares.” She wasn't used to speaking in front of so many people and generally was better to get too little than too much attention. 
"But how do we know that? Is that just a guess or is there solid evidence?” one of the humans asked. 
Meyja looked down at her feet for a moment before explaining, "There is evidence ‘cause I can speak to the Ares. I'm a Whisperer." 
A murmur of astonishment went through the rows of people and once again Meyja was given the awed looks she hated so much. 
Undeterred she continued, "Now that that's settled, I'll continue... Aside from that some Ares are mistaken for angry..." 
"Who are ya actually? We've never seen ya here before!” a woman called out. 
"Would ya please let me speak? Afterward, I'll be available for any questions but first I'd like to tell ya why we're here and then hand over the floor to Airikr.” Meyja shot the two troublemakers a sharp look. 
She had always been aware that the Voynarians were not a particularly polite people. But now the cheeky nature of her fellow citizens bothered her all the more since it did not only affect her. 
She took a deep breath before continuing, "Fine, thank ya. In addition to this view the Ares wonder, amon’ other things, why there are sum people who since they regained their self-determination years ago are still here and have no’ returned to the villages and towns in which they actually live. In the meantime, unfortunately the step towards a homecomin’ has become impossible ‘cause Kavanagh has surrounded us up here. But the Ares would like to know why all of ya have never taken back what is yers.” 
As she had already feared nobody answered anymore instead many heads turned away and nobody seemed to feel addressed. 
Airikr scowled and said nothing. 
Meyja stepped forward and stopped in front of the woman who had spoken last. 
"Why are ya still here?" 
"I... I don' know... my husband is here, too, he's fightin’ for Mister Walsh." 
"And ya?" Meyja turned to the man who had asked her about the evidence. 
"Is that any of yer business?" he snapped back. 
"Ya all have no idea, am I right? Ya don' even know the Ares were driven out of the Voynarian lands lon’ ago by the Kavanagh family and live a meagre nomadic life here in the mountains. All yer wealth is based on nothin’ but lies,” Meyja replied. 
"We haven' been rich, niver! Our life wus that of simple farmers!” the man flared up. 
She retorted, "And yet ya were rich. Rich in the freedoms inherent in every citizen of Voynar. In contrast to all of ya the Ares had lost all rights although they always wanted wot was best for the people.“ 
Another guy stood up. "Yah're Faegan Blake's daughter, ain’ ya? Ain’t yer name Eadda? Yes, I recognise ya. Ya come from wot wus once the wealthiest aristocratic family in the entire kingdom and yer father wus involved with Roarke Kavanagh, if I remember correctly. So, who ya think ya are to stand up in front of us and rebuke us in such an arrogant manner? When yer father could have had just as much of a part in wot happened? Ya always had food, a roof over yer head, and a warm bed, so wot ya know of a farmer like him?" 
"I recognise ya, too. Ya are Eamon Coughlan, son of the aristocrat Seamus Coughlan, and lived only a few houses away. My father got ya a respectable rank in the army, didn' he? Even though ya refused to ask for my hand. I don' hold yer grudges for that but know that I only had wot yah're blamin’ me for until my thirteenth birthday. In addition to almost daily beatings ‘cause I resisted wot my parents planned for me. As far as I know yah've niver had a sister either so you have no idea wot it wus like for high-born daughters like me to be born into these circumstances. After said thirteenth birthday I had nothin’ anymore. My husband forbade me from seein’ my brother, imprisoned me, and nearly starved me. I wus a prisoner." 
Yary appeared to her left. "Don' let such an upstart provoke ya." 
Eamon hadn't heard him and pressed on. "I'm very sorry for ya but that's why ya still don' know wot it means to have to work to make a livin’ yerself." 
Now Eralion got up and also stepped next to Meyja. "She knows that very well. She worked hard to make money and I've never met anyone like her. We met in Sharaya and were both members of a guild of assassins. And none of the men who were also in the guild were so deadly. The road she has travelled has been long and arduous but she never gave up and is still a living legend spoken of with reverence in Sharaya. She has travelled Abarglen from southernmost to northernmost and is wiser than all of us put together. No doubt she could do anything you can’t even dream of." 
“Dorcha Kavanagh haunted her mind and body tormentin’ her to death. But the eldest of the Ares resurrected her and gave his life for hers in freein’ her from the hauntin’. The shamans sensed lon’ before anyone else that there is a power in her that hardly anyone can grasp. She's no’ just any human, she's the strongest woman this world has ever seen. Her words to ya weren' arrogant in any way, Coughlan, so ya better watch wot ya say or yah'll have to deal with me.” Logan was standing next to her now and growled at the cheeky guy. "Ya all just stayed here ‘cause it was convenient, didn' ya? Ain’ that so?!" 
Eamon sheepishly lowered his head and sat down again, silence fell over the cliff and Meyja gently placed a hand on Logan’s chest to calm him down. 
"Please don' get upset he's no’ worth it. But thank ya and ya, too, Eralion,” she whispered. 
When she went back to Airikr and stood next to him. Yary, Logan, Eralion, Niamh, Chloe, Drystan, Amelia and Nyall had followed her and stood next to her. 
"This ain’t ‘bout shamin’ anyone or twistin’ facts. I just want each of ya to realise that bein’ able to spend all these years here is no’ sumthin’ that should be taken for granted. But now we are on the brink of war against Kavanagh and I expect each and every one of ya to do yer utmost – if only by gatherin’ firewood. We have to stick together, now more than ever," she appealed to her compatriots. 
The woman from before stood up. "I'm good at weavin’ and sewin’ baskets, if that's goin’ to help anyone." 
Meyja nodded and turned to Airikr. "She wants to get involved by sewin’ baskets. 
She can weave, too.” 
The Are chief looked a little surprised at first but then he nodded and helped to put the people who were now offering their services in many different areas in contact with the Ares who were pursuing the same or a similar occupation. Some offered to help with the hunt, others were skilled at fishing, and still others volunteered to make clothing out of leather or cloth. There were even a few people who knew how to tend wounds who agreed to go to the front and help where it was most needed. Chloe said she would work with them and could at least give them some more suggestions and guidance. 
Airikr explained that they had a way of going without firewood and that over the coming day some shamans would go through the village to ignite a magical heat source for anyone who wished. 
Since Meyja was getting tired she thankfully gave up the drinking session that followed and wanted to go back to her tent with Logan. 
A woman hurried after her. "Wait!" 
Meyja stopped and turned to her. Before she knew it the stranger had put an infant in her arms. 
The woman said breathlessly, "Would ya please bless my son? It would be an honour to me…" 
"I... I'm sorry but I'm no’...", Meyja murmured but then she stopped and returned the child's gaze. 
She held out a finger to the little one which they immediately grabbed and began to babble happily. A smile stole onto Meyja's features and all of a sudden it almost felt as if there was suddenly only her and the baby in her arms. The world stood still, everything seemed to have slowed down, and she happily rocked the little bundle whose tiny fingers were still closing around hers. 
Logan watched her with emotion although he was very surprised at the same time because she had told him that she didn't want any children but now he suspected that she hadn't been completely honest with him. 
After a few minutes Meyja noticed the situation, she was in and she gave the infant’s mother a quick examining look, but she still seemed satisfied and smiled. Carefully she released her finger from the baby's grip and put her hand on his cheek instead. "Wot's their name?" she asked quietly. 
"Sean." 
“My brother's name was also Sean. I wish him the best that this Sean may grow up big and strong and no’ suffer an early death.” Meyja handed the boy back to his mother who hastily thanked her, curtsied and then hurried away. 
Logan walked silently next to her at first but when she didn't say anything either, he remarked, "Ya liked it, didn' ya?" 
"Wot ya mean?" she asked back. 
“Don' pretend to be more stupid than ya are. Of course, I mean to hold the child. I could tell ya were happy ‘bout it,” he replied. "There would be no shame in just admittin’ it." 
"I'm no’ admittin’ anythin’," she replied then pushed past the fur into their shared tent. 
Logan just smiled in amusement and took a deep breath before following her. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe

After Meyja left, the rebels stayed behind in a depressed mood each with their own thoughts about what had just happened. 
Yardleyu was still crying silently and blaming himself because Meyja had had to find out his long-kept secret in this way. Logan on the other hand felt mean for burdening her with her own secret even though he'd found out about it long before his confession. 
Only Amelia and Chloe had started a heated argument about whether it was right or wrong to confront the Indomitable with these truths right now since she had only recently woken up from a weeks long sleep and Chloe didn't think she had sufficiently recovered. 
"She wanted to know just as I always want to know everythin’. If ya ask, ya have to live with the answer it's that simple.” Amelia blew out a surly breath to get rid of a strand of hair that had slipped out of her topknot. "And I know she hates bein’ treated like a child." 
"Ya are cruel, Amelia. Her condition is unstable and we don' know how much she can take before collapsin’. A little more consideration – also from yer side – would have been quite appropriate,” Chloe replied and turned to her brother and Yary. "I find it appallin’ that ya two don' know any better. I find it fundamentally wron’ and downright reprehensible to burden her with the presence of Eralion on the next day of her awakenin’. She cried while she was with him, ya could tell that clearly. Such an emotional burden would cause great problems even for a stable person.” 
"Amelia is right about one thin’... Meyja is no longer a child but a little more sensitivity would certainly no’ have hurt, I have to agree with Chloe," Logan explained quietly. "It's best if we go after her before she gets the idea to do sumthin’ stupid." 
"I'll go with ya. After all, we drove her off together." Yary impatiently wiped the tears from his eyes before getting up. 
 
Meyja woke up with fluttering eyelids from her faint that lasted only a few seconds which had felt like a deep dreamless sleep. 
"Ya just passed out. Stay calm, I'll bring ya back to the others”, she heard a voice. 
It was a moment before her vision sharpened enough to make out the man lifting her up and holding her. 
"No!" she yelled and started kicking, so Walsh let go of her and she fell into the snow. 
Panicked she rolled onto her back, drew a dagger, and stared up at him. 
"Be sensible, please. Yah're obviously no’ feeling well, Meyja.” He stretched out his hand to her fingers spread and crouched down next to her. 
"Don' ever touch me again, I warn ya..." she hissed hostilely, stretching out the blade toward him. 
He lowered his hand and replied, "It seems yah’re on yer own again, that's kind of reassurin’..." 
She just continued to look at him suspiciously not afraid that he would kill her but rather that he would attack her in a sexual manner. 
When he got up, she could tell from his movements that he must have been wounded as had Eralion as he grimaced in pain but she said nothing. She had had to spend a long time in her life with this man but her hatred for him was really gone, instead she realised that she didn't even really know him. 
Walsh took another deep breath then sighed. "I'll call the command tent for sumone to come and check on ya. I'll see ya for sure." 
After he took two steps she asked, "Why didn' ya come?" 
He paused, turned, and frowned at her. "Wot are ya gabbin’ ‘bout?" 
Meyja stood up, shoved the dagger back into her belt, and brushed the snow off her clothes. "Back then, after my brother took me home. Ya never came to Voynar and reclaimed me. Why no’?" 
"Why are ya askin’ me that?" he asked in amazement. 
She kept looking away, just couldn't look at him for more than a moment. "It's the one thin’ I've never understood." 
"Of all the questions ya could have for me ya are askin’ me this one?" Now he was completely confused. 
Pulling her pelt tighter around her body, she perched on one of the rocks just a step away from her. "Wot else could I ask?" 
"Well… If wot I did to ya had happened to me, I'd have a whole bunch of other questions before I get to this one. For example, why it had to happen to me and why the perpetrator seemed to enjoy it so much. Why I wusn' allowed to eat, why he wouldn' let me out of the house, why there were no servants even though he came from a wealthy family, and why I had to marry him of all people. Admittedly, I find your question rather strange but I still want to answer it." He slumped his shoulders and looked at the floor. "Because I was ashamed." 
"Ya were ashamed?" she repeated in disbelief. 
"Course, I wus. Ya think I wanted anyone to know about this?" he asked. 
She shook her head. "No, definitely no’. But I don' know, if shame wus appropriate in yer case. If I were ya I would have felt more afraid of my family.” 
"I had that, too, but mostly it was shame. Even now I'm ashamed ‘cause I'm sure yah'll want to know why I let it come to this. I feel disgustin’ and I would like to explain to ya why ya had to suffer so much,” he whispered. 
Meyja crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked at him askance. "Wus there a reason for this and wusn' just arbitrary?" 
Walsh nodded pointing to one of the rocks. "May I sit down?" 
After she nodded as well and he sat down on one of the boulders he looked thoughtfully over the edge of the cliff. 
"So?" she asked impatiently, curious about the excuse he was going to present her with. 
"The same thin’ happened to me in my childhood as I did to ya. I wus violated and abused. From my own father. Later, he also forced me to do things which’s perversion none of halfway sane mind could imagine. He wus insane and a drunkard. His addiction ruined my family, so I had to marry ya of all people. Yah’re the daughter of wot wus once the wealthiest family in Voynar, everyone knew that. Because ya were considered so stubborn and cheeky, my parents were able to fetch a large sum of gold for me to take ya to be my wife. But I also wus forced into this marriage, I did no’ consent to it voluntarily. The manor on Weather Point had belonged to the Walshs for decades but it would have been worth nothin’ to sell it. So, my mother took the opportunity to get me out of my father's reach. As I'm sure ya know Voynarian parents can rule over their children until they die – even after they grow up – and so my father would always steal a large part of my pay to drink in sum dive bar. That is why there was no maid in our house. I simply couldn' have rewarded ‘em. Ya also have him to thank for yer persistent hunger. If I had gold, I would have fed ya, too, but I couldn'.” 
“When ya defied me on our weddin’ night, I forgot myself. My hatred of ya wus unfounded I always knew that. There wus nothin’ ya could do ‘bout no’ conceivin’ a child, after all, but yer innocence didn' stop me from lettin’ ya feel how I felt. I wus powerless, dominated by this man who was everythin’ to me but niver a father. I locked ya in so ya couldn' escape but now I know that ya didn' escape because ya were too scared. When I got home and saw the open door, I looked for ya in every corner of the house but when I couldn' find ya I fell into a deep hole. Ya must know that despite everythin’ I've done to ya I always adored ya. I just niver got to show.” Walsh hadn't looked at her as he spoke but sat slumped on the rock, tears streaming down his cheeks. 
"And I'm supposed to believe that, yes?" she asked sceptically. 
He shrugged and gave a mirthless laugh before their eyes met. "To be honest, I don' care wot ya think. It is the truth and therefore the only answer to yer questions. We have all failed terribly at some point, includin’ ya. I've already told ya how sorry I am for ya. There is no excuse for that – neither my story. Knowin’ the burden of one who is at the mercy of another I should have shown ya my mercy, no’ my vengeance.” 
She realised he hadn't lied and felt sorry for him – not much but she felt it nonetheless. "I feel sorry for ya, Ethan." 
"Ethan? Ya call me by my first name?” he asked in surprise. 
She shrugged. "So do ya. Although I changed my name." 
“I would have found anything else disrespectful. There's also another Blake and it would be confusing, if I called ya that as well,” he explained. 
Meyja bowed her head and murmured, "Besides, Meyja Blake is just an alias. 
Actually, since that ominous day twelve years ago my name is still Eadda Walsh.” 
“Twelve years… Then ya are as old today as I wus then. But to be honest I don' think our marriage is still valid. After all, there is no more kingdom of Voynar despite wot Kavanagh says otherwise,” he remarked grimly. 
“Ya niver know if someone will find old documents at some point and declare us a married couple should we still be alive by then. I want ya to disown me, Ethan, just to be sure. In all those years I've never given ya offsprin’ that should be enough reason.” She looked at him seriously. 
He nodded and struggled to his feet. "Doesn' it have to be possible to witness an official ostracism?" 
"Yah're right," she murmured standing up as well. "And I believe two men are already approachin’ who would be only too happy to witness it." 
Yardleyu and Logan were just climbing up the slope towards them and Meyja went to meet them but Logan simply stormed past her towards Walsh. 
"Wot have ya done to her?" he growled menacingly grabbing the older man roughly by the collar. 
Meyja hastened after him. "He didn' do anythin’, let him go!" 
"Then wot did he want from ya?" Logan retorted pushing Walsh away. 
"She stumbled towards the cliff cryin’, fell to her knees, and passed out moments later. I just wanted to help her, I swear,” Ethan replied. 
Logan gave his partner a sharp look. "Is that correct?" 
"Yes, that's right. I hadn' seen him and when I woke up, he was ‘bout to take me to ya.” She nodded. "We've talked and there's no more reason to hold grudges against him, Logan, because I have forgiven him. Just before you came here, he agreed to an ostracism. He will cast me out and thereby break our vows of marriage. Ya two just have to witness it.” 
"He should have done that a year after ya were married," Yary remarked coldly arms crossed over his chest. 
"And now I'm doing it eleven years late but I'm goin’ to do it ‘cause she asked me to," Ethan said softly. 
Logan and Yary turned their nasty looks on him and said nothing. 
"Don' forget that each of ya have already betrayed me," whispered Meyja hurt. "Ya owe it to me." 
Logan turned to her and looked into her eyes. "Let's talk ‘bout this again tomorrow, okay? But I agree and will be one of the witnesses.” Meyja nodded gratefully and looked at her brother. "Yary?" 
"Of course, no question. Whenever yah're ready,” he replied. 
She breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Ethan. "Ya know wot ya must do?" 
Ethan shrugged in embarrassment. “To be honest, no… No’ exactly at least. I only know the approximate wordin’,” he admitted. 
Yary walked up to Logan and explained, "Ya have to kneel in front of him, Meyja, and bow your head. Then Walsh pronounces his ostracism and states the reason. Finally, Meyja raises her head again and Walsh places a coin on her forehead as symbolic support for the new beginnin’.” 
Logan took his leather purse out of his pocket and pulled out a crown. "Here's a coin," he remarked, tossing it to Ethan. 
"Thanks," Ethan murmured. "Well then… Please kneel, Eadda Walsh." 
She slowly walked towards him and sank to her knees, bowing her head as her brother had said. 
Ethan cleared his throat softly before beginning, "I, Ethan Walsh, hereby ostracise ya, Eadda Walsh, and banish you from my table, from my house, and from my side. Our marriage took place twelve years ago at the foot of Weather Point in the Ice Lands and until now ya have failed to fulfil all yer duties. Amon’ other things ya had sworn to give birth to a boy who would become heir to the venerable Walsh family. Failure to do so entitles me to cast ya out in search of another wife who will fulfil yer honourable duties. Raise yer face to the sky.” 
Meyja lifted her head and looked at him as he put the coin on her forehead. 
"I'll contribute this little bit to ensure that ya survive the journey back to yer family safely and unharmed. Our marriage vows are hereby revoked before the gods.” Ethan nodded at her to indicate that she could get up. 
"Thank ya from the bottom of my heart, Ethan," she said softly removing the coin from her forehead and standing up. The tears which surprisingly suddenly poured out of her eyes like a torrent surprised her and she walked towards Logan and her brother. "I'm finally free... I'm Eadda Blake again..." she kept whispering. 
Yary held his stunned, overjoyed sister in his arms while the emotion brought tears to his eyes, too. "Ya always were Eadda Blake to me... always..." 
Logan gave Ethan a short nod before he walked away from the three of them. He wouldn't have thought it possible that someone like Walsh could bring himself to make a gesture that would take such a burden off his companion's shoulders. 
She broke away from her brother and threw her arms around Logan holding onto him and stammering, "I'm not Meyja anymore... my name is Eadda, Logan..." 
"I know that... my beloved Eadda," he whispered and hugged her. 
They lay in each other's arms for a long time and when she began to shiver from the cold, he picked her up on his hip like a child and carried her back to the village whilst she continued to cling to him. 
Arriving in front of their tent she still hadn't calmed down and Yardleyu shook hands with Logan.  
"Thank ya for takin’ care of her. If there's anythin’ don' hesitate to seek me out,” he said quietly. 
Logan replied, "No worries but I think we'll be fine. If so, yah'll be the first to know, don't worry. See ya tomorrow, good night's sleep." 
"Thank ya, too. And I know yah'd let me know first…” Yary glanced at his sister before turning and walking away. 
A deep sense of relief filled his heart, not only because Walsh had finally given Eadda’s identity back to her but also because in a man like Logan, she finally had someone honourable by her side. He himself had had no mate and never had one, not even in his youth. His love was for the ancient writings of his books and while it hadn't escaped his notice how much Amelia actually seemed to like him, he'd never considered giving in to her more or less subtle advances. Her cynical and sometimes even sarcastic manner turned him off rather than attracting him in the slightest. Still today was a day of truth and he decided to seek out his student and find out why she was always so brash. 

When Eadda woke up the next day Logan was sitting next to her on the cot with his back to her. 
"Good mornin’," she whispered. 
He turned his head to look at her. "Good mornin’ to ya. Did ya have a good rest?" His eyes looked dull as if he had been crying and she sat up as well. 
"So, wot's goin’ on? Ain' ya feelin’ well?” she asked worried. 
His smile didn't reach his eyes only the corners of his mouth turned up a little. "Yes, actually I'm fine. Yesterday wus just a turbulent day and the events robbed me of my sleep.” He reached up and stroked her cheek. "Ya truly are remarkable, sweetheart. It wus peaceful here in the village most of the time but as soon as ya woke up the world turned upside down.” 
“Yes, sumtimes my influence in this direction scares me, too. If you can even call it an influence…” She slumped her shoulders. 
He nodded slightly. "Ya do have influence. Yer judgment on Walsh has given him sum respect again. I just don' know if it really wus a good, justified judgement. 
Actually, my trust in yer judgment is boundless but I don' know, if I really know ya. When we first met a part of Dorcha Kavanagh wus already within ya and influencin’ yer behaviour. But none of us understand how this could have happened. Have ya ever met her or kissed anyone associated with her?” 
"No... I didn't..." she replied but then she became suspicious. "Wait! One mornin’ just as I arrived at my family's home in Voynar, Cayden wus sittin’ next to me. We talked and before he said goodbye, he kissed me. I had almost forgotten ‘bout that 
‘cause it was so trivial. It was so impersonal and insignificant.” 
"On the mouth? Did he kiss ya on the mouth?” Logan asked startled. 
She nodded. "But why is that so important?" she wanted to know. 
"’Cause that means yer brother was right. Yardleyu theorised that bystanders can act as carriers for a soul. This means that at that very moment Kavanagh planted in ya the soul that would later have these devastating effects on ya. A kiss on the cheek would have been inconsequential but the mouth is the gateway to yer ego. And… well… the sex organs, too, at least in women. He just kissed ya, didn' he? And no’… ya… with his mouth…?” he asked softly. 
Her cheeks turned bright red and she replied indignantly, "Logan, no! I haven' done anythin’ that private with him nor even thought ‘bout it. It was just that one kiss.” 
"Sorry, I didn' mean to offend ya… I just thought... To be honest I don' know wot I wus thinkin’." He rubbed the back of his head. 
She replied softly, "It's okay." 
"So, ya two never got intimate. That's good… And it calms me down,” he remarked in a whisper. 
"Even the kiss only came from him, it didn't even feel good it wus just annoyin’." She sighed softly. 
The two were silent for a few minutes, each enjoying the silence and each other's presence. 
Then Logan asked, "Wot are ya thinkin’ ‘bout right now?“ 
"I thought ‘bout wot ya confessed to me yesterday and decided to forgive ya. It hurt me a lot to hear ‘bout it ‘cause I had struggled with the burden for a lon’ time and would have loved to tell you ‘bout Aron but for some reason I couldn'. But now that I've learned to forgive, I'll forgive you the same way I forgave Ethan. And..." She looked at him before continuing, "And I will also forgive my brother for makin’ a difficult decision and no’ tellin’ me ‘bout it. Now it is wot it is and we all can't go back to undo our mistakes. I blamed Kavanagh for this ‘cause I thought he was the one responsible for what his family did wron’. It was probably only in my case that the blame lies with my own family although Kavanagh's family has been responsible for countless other fates like mine. Neither of us will ever be able to start a family of our own. If that's reason enough for you to find another mate I won' blame ya or stop ya." 
"Actually, I assumed that ya never wanted to have children..." he whispered. "Now it almost sounds like yah've changed yer mind on that." 
She laughed mirthlessly and replied cynically, "Ain' it the case that ya always want wot ya can't have?" 
"I don' know." Logan looked thoughtful. "I've never thought ‘bout that but I appreciate the lack of seriousness in yer statement. Still, I wonder where this apparent change of heart really comes from. It's unlikely that ya want to start a family just because ya can't do it anymore." 
The images of the dream she had remembered only the night before came back to her mind, involuntarily tears ran down her cheeks. 
"Honey, I didn't mean to put it so harshly. Sorry. Please…" Logan moved towards her and took her in his arms. "I am so sorry." 
"No, it's no’ that... It's more like sumthin’ unreal..." she interrupted him. "When I wusn' with me I had a dream about the two of us. A very strange dream..." 
"Do ya want to tell me ‘bout it?" he asked cautiously. 
She wiped her eyes and nodded. "It wusn' real, I realise that now although in my sleep I assumed that everythin’ I see, hear, and feel wus real. But in the end two feelings remained. The first is the deep desire to have a child, the other I don' want to gab ‘bout right now because it's dark and depressin’." 
"That's okay," Logan replied. 
"I woke up in the house I shared with Ethan, even if it looked a little different. I panicked as I realised where I wus and that I wus wearin’ my weddin’ dress. After lookin’ in the mirror, I realised that I was only fifteen years old. My family wus outside the building but strangely I could hear ‘em right in my head. I begged ‘em for help but they left and disappeared leavin’ me huddled in a corner cryin’. Before I could calm down the door opened and Ethan walked in. I didn't even realise he had yer face I only realised that later after rememberin’ all that. Unlike the real thing, though he was kind and concerned ‘bout me just like ya are.” 
She looked up at him briefly and he had a tiny smile on his lips so she continued, "As the dream progressed, I felt a deep love for ya – or Ethan as ya were called – and an almost overwhelmin’ desire to give ya offsprin’ although at the same time I wus afraid of it. We gabbed ‘bout it and it turned out that we had been married for two years and had already tried unsuccessfully to conceive a child. Yet by mutual consent we tried two more times during this dream. This wish which is now very real is probably due to the fact that we had wished for it so much in this dream.“ 
He kept stroking her hair and asked, "Were we successful?" 
"I don' know. We were both murdered,” she answered softly and burst into tears a second later. 
"Oh, sweetheart... It wus only a dream..." he whispered and hugged her tightly. 
"But it... it seemed so real... They just killed ya... ‘cause ya wanted to protect me..." she sobbed. 
Actually, she hadn't wanted to tell it but now the truth came erupting from her lips. 
"Who killed me?" he asked worried. 
"I remember the three guys' faces clearly but I had niver seen them before. I usually only dream of people with faces I've seen sumwhere before. Sumtimes, they were targets that I killed on Ed's orders, sum other times they had the faces of familiar people, even if these people had different names and had a different connection to me," she replied before raising her head and looking at him. "Knowin’ ya were dead made me want to die, too." 
"Who were these guys? Can ya remember their names?” he demanded. 
"Is that important?" she asked back. 
"I don' know. But I don' think there's any harm in knowin’ their names, if it wus more than a dream after all.” He swallowed sadly. 
"I'm pretty sure their names were Cathasaigh, Padraig, and Odhran. Do these names mean anythin’ to ya? Do you know ‘em?”, she also worried wanted to know. 
He looked at her dumbfounded and whispered, "Of course, I know ‘em. We were in basic army trainin’ together. I niver had much contact with ‘em ‘cause they were unbeatable at getting into trouble.” 
"Wot happened then? Where have they gone?” she whispered. 
He shrugged his shoulders. “After basic trainin’ they were transferred to a different unit than me. I don' know where to but there are a lot of ex-soldiers here in the village so I'll ask around if anyone has heard of it." 
"And wot if they're still alive? Wot if they're here?” There was a note of panic in her voice. 
He cupped his hands on her cheeks and whispered, "I don' believe that. It's been years since we got our will back and if they had been here then I would undoubtedly have recognised the three of ‘em. Now I've been back here in the village for months and haven' seen any of ‘em." 
"Then how do I know their faces? I had niver met ‘em.” Eadda couldn't stop thinking about it. 
Logan considered this but then shrugged again. "It might have sumthin’ to do with Kavanagh's sister. If the three are or were known to her, she might even knowingly have sent ya these dreams. Yardleyu wus hintin’ sumthin’ alon’ those lines and it makes sense since ya were also adamant that Walsh caught ya in that house which wusn' the case.“ 
"That, too, seemed so incredibly real to me that it still scares me..." she whispered. 
"Ya don' have to be afraid anymore. I am with ya and I will always be with ya, even if we don't have children. I love ya, Eadda Blake. So much,” he breathed. 
She felt her eyes watering again and blinked before replying, "And I love ya, Logan. 
Ya can't imagine how much." 
He pulled her to him again and kissed her gently on the lips. 
Eadda returned the caresses, felt her desire slide through her stomach to her abdomen, and impulsively pressed her lap against him. 
"Even if it doesn' promise much success, we can just do it like in yer dream and at least try to conceive a child," he whispered in a dark voice and pushed his hands into her linen pants where he clasped her bottom. 
"It can't hurt... Just for fun... Outrageous fun..." she whispered back. 
Logan lifted her onto his lap before his fingers slid over her buttocks and he gently touched her crotch. 
With a groan Eadda tilted her head back and surrendered to his caresses. 

Copyright: Larissa Doe