He could barely control his breathing; his heart pounded in his chest, and he wasn’t sure if he could run any faster. There was only darkness around him while the gnarled, winding trees were dimly illuminated only by the light of the full moon. He leaped over a fallen tree, clutching the strap of his leather satchel to his chest. He had to keep hold of it at all costs, lest his message be lost. Somehow, someway, he had to make it.
Once again, he heard a chorus of snarls behind him. He dared to throw a glance over his shoulder and saw that two silhouettes of creatures that were thoroughly inhuman were still following him.
And they were catching up.
“No…” he whispered.
The whole of his body burned and ached, and he desperately wished to give up, to admit defeat.
But that wasn’t an option.
He glanced over his shoulders again and saw that the shadows had gotten closer still. Their snarls grew louder, and he could hear the palpable hunger in them. He gulped as he tried to force himself to move faster. He tried, and he failed.
Another set of snarls followed; that was the last thing he heard before he felt the claws shred his flesh. He had already died before his body even hit the ground.
* * *
Victor let out a sigh as he paused for a brief moment before continuing the frantic pace that he had become accustomed to maintaining in the tavern, especially at this time of night. The sun had gone down hours ago, and that had brought in all the lumberjacks and loggers that cut down and harvested the black wood that served as the village’s livelihood, allowing the populace to trade for what the merchant caravans brought in, especially alcohol.
Lots of alcohol.
The longer the candles burned, the drunker everyone got, at least that’s how it seemed. Personally, Victor thought it was a miracle that they all managed to go back to work the next day. Some of them were already falling out of their chairs, and one man was even passed out and drooling on the tavern floor. Everyone seemed to ignore him. After all, they called him Blackout Barnaby for a reason.
When he stopped again, Victor found himself looking down at a potbellied man who sat at the table in front of him. The man wore a ragged, but thick, green shirt and brown pants that were held tight by a black leather belt with a silver buckle. Despite the old age shown by his balding gray hair and salt-and-pepper beard, he was still physically fit, being both bulky and muscular.
Every time Victor looked down at him, he was reminded of just how skinny and bony he was.
He gulped slightly before speaking. “Gerald, sir, we are out of Silverdream Ale.” He stuttered slightly as he spoke. He was sweating already, and, combined with the sheer amount of body heat in the tavern, it caused Victor’s homespun shirt and pants to start sticking to him.
The man at the table grunted roughly before slowing turning his head up to look at Victor. If he wasn’t actually scowling, he might as well have been. None of the lumberjacks liked hearing that the Prideful Boar was out of Silverdream; the mostly-clear beverage was known for its great potency, and a single shot could put an inexperienced drinker under the table.
“I know that’s not true, boy,” Gerald said. There was a measure of contempt in the last word of his sentence. “You have another keg somewhere. Jacob said as much this morning when I came in for breakfast. I believe you were there, though I know that doesn’t mean you weren’t staring at some girl you don’t have a chance with.”
Victor cleared his throat before replying, deciding to ignore the last part of Gerald’s comments. “I’m sorry, sir, but we sold the last of it to Wesley. He wanted to have a few more drinks before leaving to deliver his message.”
Gerald was grumbling before Victor had finished speaking. “I don’t care about that damn messenger or his favorite drink; it’s not like he does any real work around here.” The old man’s gaze hardened. “Now, go get my Silverdream or the worst will be coming to you.”
Victor debated whether or not to run off. He knew that it wouldn’t take much effort for Gerald to snap him in half, and there would be nothing he could do about it if that was what the old lumberjack chose to do. Still, he chose to speak:
“I promise you there isn’t going to be anymore until the next caravan arrives. I can get you some-
“Jacob!” Gerald barked, cutting anything further that Victor was going to say.
Victor gulped. Now, he would be lucky to get through the night with only a whipping, and he still had marks from the one he had gotten a few days earlier.
A large shadow soon overcame Victor, who was now glaring at the floor and trying to keep his body from shaking. Once the shadow stopped, Victor slowly looked up and, as he had expected, saw Jacob.
He was not nearly as old as Gerald, but he was still much older than Victor. He was tall and lean, though he was not muscular like the loggers and lumberjacks. In fact, he even had a slight potbelly. He had short-cut, straight brown hair and a thin beard and mustache to match, and it seemed as though his brown eyes were always glaring at Victor. He wore homespun clothes that looked similar to Victor’s, though it was clear that Jacob’s were of much better quality. A rope belt tied everything together.
“What seems to be the problem, Gerald?” Jacob asked in a friendly, but knowing, tone.
“The boy said that you are out of Silverdream.” Again, Gerald said the word “boy” with a measure of contempt. “You know how much I like my Silverdream, don’t you, Jacob? It really does help an old man like me sleep at night; they call it Silverdream for a reason.”
Jacob nodded before turning his head to meet Victor’s gaze. Victor wore an expression of helplessness on his face.
“Is that true, Victor?” Jacob asked calmly. “Did you tell Gerald here that we are out of Silverdream?"
A wicked smile tugged at the edges of Gerald’s lips.
“I didn’t see any when I looked for it earlier,” Victor stammered.
“You sound unsure, Victor.” The calm remained in Jacob’s voice.
“…I didn’t see any kegs of it.”
“Go into the storeroom and check again.” Jacob paused to glance at Gerald before turning his gaze back upon Victor. “I think that both Gerald and I would want that.”
“Yes,” Gerald agreed, wearing a smug smile on his face.
Victor huffed as he walked off, trying to keep himself from stomping. Once he was out of Jacob’s view, his body began to shake. He still tried to control his emotions due to the fact that the whole of the village frowned upon major displays of emotion, but it didn't long for him to lose his control once he descended the small stone staircase that led into the tavern’s store room.
The store room was lightless aside from a few candles atop the shelves that held the kegs, and Victor preferred it that way. He closed the creaky wooden door before going to the center of the room and allowing himself to drop to his knees in the only place where he could do so of his own free will.
He hated dealing with Gerald. His hands clenched into fists as the image of the old lumberjack popped into his head. Even when Victor was able to bring the angry man his Silverdream, there was always, always, something else that he had done wrong.
There wasn’t enough meat in the stew.
The stew was cold.
The bread was too hard.
The bread was too stale.
Or, perhaps the worst of them all, the Silverdream was watered down.
Victor had made the mistake of doing that once, just once because they had been low, and he remembered that night well.
He knew that he would be getting punished as soon as Jacob had dropped into his dead calm. The worse part about it was that Jacob would always say that he didn’t want to punish Victor.
But he had to.
Had to.
Victor hated that. For the whole of his life, he had been taught to obey his elders and restrain his emotions. Yet, even when he did those things, there was always something else that he had done wrong.
Always.
He had heard the stories about how too many outbursts of emotion would cause terrible things to befall the village. The lumberjacks weren’t even supposed to swing their axes too hard, lest they attract malevolent spirits.
But, Victor felt like he just couldn’t take it anymore, any of it. He need release. He needed out. He needed to run away.
Yet, he couldn’t fix that, not when he had nowhere to go.
Tears began to form in his eyes as he felt a wave of helplessness overtake him. He didn’t even bother to look for the Silverdream; he knew damn well that it wasn’t there. He had watched Wesley drink the last of it. Tears continued to flow down his face even as he wiped them away amid a fit of sniffling. He supposed that he could have watered down Wesley's Silverdream, but still…
That wouldn’t fix the problem, the real problem.
Victor sat down fully on the cold stone floor and simply cried, though he made sure to keep the sounds low enough that no one would heard. He already knew that Jacob wouldn’t come looking for him because, he knew that, no matter what, Victor would always, always, come back.
And that, perhaps, was what made him hate himself the most.
* * *
Valnera walked through the doors of the Prideful Boar. She knew that it was late; the sky was entirely black and filled with stars, and so she was surprised that the tavern’s doors were still unlocked. Normally, they were locked as soon as all the regulars had come in. That’s what the taverns in the vast majority of the other villages she had been to did, and she had found herself locked out of more than a few of them because of it, at least until she had pounded on the doors long enough. Even once the people inside knew that she had been locked out, they were still loathe to let her in due to the superstitions about demons.
Yet, she couldn't blame them. It was difficult to get all the blood off her armor, especially since it was made of leather and therefore tended to soak it up. The fact that she wore a flowing black cloak only complicated matters further. Thankfully, however, the sheathed claymore that was strapped across her back was easy to clean; most of it was just a single, edged length of iron.
However, tonight, she had taken the time to thoroughly clean both herself and her equipment before entering the tavern; she was here for more than a drink or two after a hard day’s work.
As Valnera entered the tavern’s main room, the majority of the patrons glanced at her in acknowledgement. A few of the younger ones gave her more than a glance, and, in some cases, gasps of awe. Demon hunters rarely appeared here, and the rumors of her skill alone would make her the hot topic of the village’s gossip for at least a fortnight afterward.
She strode through the crowd with ease; almost all the patrons made room for her. The claymore at her back ensured that, and the stoic expression on her smooth face showed that she knew how to wield it. Sure, many of the loggers and lumberjacks were stronger than her, but strength meant nothing if it was not guided by precision.
After striding through the common room, Valnera sat down at one of the circular wooden tables. Across from her sat a man that she recognized as Frederic, the overseer of the logging camp. He was a middle-aged, muscular man, which also described the majority of the men who worked under him. He wore a leather jerkin with short sleeves that exposed his thick, hairy, and scarred arms. The features on his face were hard and chiseled. His dark blue eyes and pointed nose were the most prominent features on his face, showcased by his short-cut black hair and lack of both a beard and a mustache.
From the other side of the tavern, Jacob watched Valnera sit down. He recognized her and knew that she brought only no good. Still, Frederic seemed to at least get along with her, and that counted for something.
Jacob placed a hand on the shoulder of Victor, who was standing beside him. The boy had taken longer than normal looking for the Silverdream, and he still hadn’t found any. At least he had looked.
“You see that woman who just sat down at the table where Overseer Frederic is at?” Jacob asked, still speaking in a calm tone.
Victor nodded. “Yes,” he said meekly. He didn’t let Jacob see his face; he refused to let him know that he had been crying.
“See to it that they are taken care of, especially Frederic. It will be a difficult night tonight, but the outcome of it will directly impact the amount of business we get here.”
“Yes Jacob.”
Victor scurried off.
Frederic clasped his hands together as he put them on the table. “I see that you have finally decided to grace us with your presence, Lady Valnera,” he said, the tone of his voice struggling to hide his irritation.
Valnera shrugged. “You were the one who asked to see me tonight,” she said, “and I wouldn’t call myself a lady.”
“I’m well aware of both of those things.”
Victor approached the table and set down two wooden mugs, each one filled with ale, the non-watered-down kind. Valnera gave a nod of thanks to the boy, taking note of how he didn’t blush, while Frederic ignored him entirely. Victor quickly scurried off to help the next patrons, though he made sure to keep himself where he could listen to the conversation. He had never seen the woman before, and her presence in the tavern meant that something interesting was finally happening in this village.
Maybe a way out?
Valnera pulled a badge from one of the pouches on her belt and slid it across the table toward Frederic. “By the way,” she said, “I found this.”
Frederic instantly recognized the badge as one that the messengers wore. “That means that you’ve probably already heard about the caravans getting attacked by the demons as of late.” He took a sip of his ale. The mug would need multiple refills before the conversation was over.
Valnera nodded as she smoothly brought her mug up to her lips and took a gulp. “I have,” she said, “and I assume that you would like me to do something about it?”
Frederic gritted his teeth. “Yes…”
“Two hundred silver.” Valnera now wore a smirk on her face.
“We haven’t even gone over the terms yet!”
“I’d say that we just did. You want me to kill the demons attacking the caravans, and I’ll do it for two hundred silver. It’s pretty clear, Frederic.” Valnera took another gulp of ale.
“That price is outrageous,” Frederic growled, “That’s almost as much as I bring in from trading with one of the damn caravans.”
Valnera suppressed a chuckle at Frederic’s irritation, knowing that she probably shouldn’t push him too far. He was a fairly good source of work, and she did need the money, not two hundred silvers’ worth, but he didn’t need to know that.
“What would be an acceptable price?” Valnera asked, straightening herself before taking another swig from her mug.
“Seventy-five silver is the best I can do.” Frederic took a sip from his mug.
Valnera bit her tongue to prevent herself from laughing. “That’s too low,” she said bluntly before turning her head up, emptying her mug, and slamming it back down on the table.
Unbidden, Victor was quick to provide a refill. Valnera responded with a smile and a nod of thanks. The boy was dutiful.
“One hundred?” Frederic said, straining himself to remain cordial.
Valnera shook her head before taking a sip from her now-full mug. “Two hundred. No less.”
“I can’t pay you that much.”
“Then I can’t do anything about your demon problem.” Valnera smirked as she propped her feet up on the table.
“You can’t do that!” Frederic forced himself to not clench his hands into fists and slam them on the table; his restraint was palpable. He spoke his next words in a much lower tone. “I have dealt with your kind before, but you, by far, are the worst.”
“I’m tempted to up the price just for that, but I’ll be generous. Two hundred silver, or it looks like your town is never going to see a caravan again.”
“And what if the demons attack you?”
Valnera smirked again before taking another sip from her mug. “I can deal with them, but the issue is that you can’t That is why I’m here, after all, though you already knew that, didn’t you?”
“Fine,” Frederic growled. He pulled out a full bag from underneath the table and plopped it between himself and Valnera. It jingled when it hit the table. “There’s your two hundred silver.”
Valnera’s smirk became a wry smile. “I am sure that the people will be eternally grateful for your sacrifice, Overseer Frederic,” she said sarcastically.
“Yeah, yeah. Those demons had better be dead soon.”
“I’ll make sure you see the blood on my claymore.”
Frederic grunted and stood up, though he took the time to drain the rest of his mug before leaving the table.
Once he had left, Valnera looked straight at Victor.
“What did you think of the conversation?” she asked, “Did I do alright?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Victor stuttered as he turned his gaze toward the floor to hide his face, which was now bright-red from embarrassment.
Valnera smirked. “Don’t give me that shit.” She drained her mug and slammed it down on the table. “Get me a refill, please, boy, and be quick about it.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Victor snatched up the mug and quickly returned with a refill, setting it down on the table in front of Valnera. He wore a shy smile on his face. Patrons rarely said the word “please” to him when they told him to do something.
“Now answer my question, Victor,” Valnera said before taking a sip from the mug.
“I wasn’t listening to the conversation,” Victor said.
Valnera let out a knowing laugh. “So you were just standing where you were so you could be completely oblivious instead?”
“Umm…” Victor began to fidget with his hands.
Valnera laughed again. “It’s fine.” She got up from the table, finished off her mug, and handed what was clearly a demon claw to Victor.
He tentatively reached for it, not sure whether or not he should touch something that had once been part of such a horror.
“Go on and take it,” Valnera said, “There isn’t any bad luck in doing so. Besides, you deserve some sort of reward for your work, and I can tell that you don’t get much of one here.”
“Thank you…” Victor whispered in awe as he took the claw from Valnera’s hand.
Without another word, Valnera set her mug down on the table and left. She had work to do.
Victor was simply left standing, staring down at the claw until he heard Jacob call his name. He quickly pocketed it and scurried off, hoping to be quick enough to not make tonight’s beating any worse.
* * *
For once, Victor was finally able to relax. He sat in a patch of tall grass near the tavern, his back leaned against a thick, shady tree. The sun was just rising, making enough light that he could marvel in the details of the claw that Valnera had given him, and that’s exactly what he was doing.
Even if he hadn’t had the claw to stare at, he doubted that he would be up and moving anyway. He spent enough time running around the tavern trying to keep patrons satisfied that he liked using his time off to just rest and, for once, do nothing. He yawned as he fought back the urge to slip into a nap.
* * *
Fortunately for Victor, the next few days at the tavern passed uneventfully. No beatings, nothing unusual. He hadn’t seen Valnera again, and, as he waited on patrons, his mind wandered, wondering exactly what she was doing. How could people dedicate themselves to killing demons? Victor had heard more than a few stories about demons ripping people in half and eating the corpses before continuing their unholy rampage, and those were the mild ones.
Suddenly, Victor heard a fwoosh that tore him from his thoughts. Everyone in the tavern was rushing to the windows, Victor included, though by the time he had gotten there, he had to settle for being stuck at the back of the crowd.
Typical.
But, it wasn’t hard to see what was causing all the commotion, even in the dead of the night.
Bright as day, there was a house burning down right in front of the tavern.
Everyone began to run when two nightmarish creatures, demons, emerged from the flames, charging straight at the tavern as they let out a chorus of cacophonous, inhuman roars that heralded nothing but torment, death, and despair.
Within a few seconds, the town was in chaos as people either retreated to their homes or took up what makeshift weapons they could find.
Victor, however, moved closer to the window and stared. Both of the demons looked like skinless mockeries of the human form. Victor’s gaze locked onto the left demon first.
Its upper half was long and spindly, appearing emaciated, and it had four thin arms that ended in claws that were so long that they nearly dragged on the ground. Its head bore four completely-red, glowing red eyes and a maw filled with needle-like teeth.
In start contrast to its upper half, the demon’s lower half consisted of a pair of overly muscular bestial legs ended in thick bony. It also had a long tail that ended in a curved, bony point.
The demon on the right looked almost exactly the opposite: it had an overly muscular upper half with only two arms and an emaciated lower half with four legs. Its tail curved upward like that of a scorpion, and, somehow, the demon kept itself moving forward with frightening ease.
As the demons came closer and closer, Victor felt his mouth go dry as his stomach clenched up. He stared at the four-armed demon, frozen in the fear that radiated it from it. His heart race, and he began to sweat.
He knew that the end was near.
He was going to die.
The demons tore through the tavern’s walls as if they were paper, and the flames that danced upon the unholy abominations soon began devouring the tavern. It wasn't long before the demons were shredding the people inside.
And Victor had just stood there, mesmerized, until he was suddenly thrown to the ground by a hand pushing his chest. As he lay on the ground, he looked up and saw Valnera in front of, her claymore out and ready.
She snapped a glare at Victor. “Why the hell didn’t you run? These demons will kill you.”
“I just couldn’t…” Victor stuttered, “I set my eyes on them and my whole body… just… locked up. My limbs wouldn’t let me move.”
“Then you’re very, very lucky that I’m here to save your sorry ass.”
The demon with the muscular arms let out a guttural roar as it hacked at Valnera with its claws. She ducked and slid under the creature, swinging her claymore at its torso. The demon leaped back, lunged forward, and swept one of its claws at Valnera. She leaped up and quickly brought her claymore forward, parrying the claw with precision that only a master could have.
As Valnera parried the attack, a dagger fell out of its sheath and clattered to the ground, but she barely noticed; she had her claymore. The other demon turned on Victor, letting out a hungry snarl and flexing its claws. The boy gulped as his heart began to race and the whole of his body shook as he scrambled to pick up the dagger and point it at the demon. He wanted to scream, wanted to shout, wanted to make noise, any noise. But he couldn’t.
He simply couldn’t.
He tried to force the words out of his mouth. Truly, he felt helpless, and, as if the demon knew exactly what was going on in Victor’s head, knew how truly helpless he felt, it grinned.
Valnera threw a glance over her shoulder as she held back the claws of the demon she was locked in combat with and saw the other demon looming over Victor. To her surprise, the boy was standing his ground with her dagger in his hands, but she still had to do something.
“Back!” she shouted as she kicked her demon back and leaped at the other one.
She was swinging her claymore at the horror before her feet had even hit the ground again. The demon turned its head to glare at her as it struck the blade of her claymore with a pair of its claws. Valnera barely held onto her weapon as the blade was thrown wildly off course; she hadn’t been expecting the demon’s withered upper body to be so damn strong.
The other demon let out a roar before lunging forward to bite Valnera. With honed reflexes, she leaped back from between the two demons, causing her to form a triangle with them. She brandished her claymore and assumed a fighting stance.
“Stay away from him,” she shouted, “I’m the one you two have to worry about; I have never been bested by any of your pathetic kind in combat.”
She didn’t know if the demons could actually understand her challenge, but, at the very least, they had understood the intent, and this time was no different. The two demons snarled at Valnera before charging at her. As the one with the muscular arms lunged at her, she dropped low and cleaved at it with her claymore. The blade easily bit through the demon’s flesh, cutting it in two. Before the halves of the demon’s corpse had even hit the ground, the flesh had begun decomposing into globs of blood, leaving only bones behind. Valnera smirked; she now had another kill under her belt.
Springing up just in time to parry the remaining demon’s claws, she struggled to keep hold of her claymore as the claws hit the blade. When the demon struck again, she elected to dodge instead of parry; she didn’t want to make contact with the horror again unless it was to deliver the killing blow. She dodged another swipe of its claws as she swung her claymore at its waist, taking advantage of the opening that she had found. She smirked again. While demons were relatively intelligent, they weren’t known for having finesse. The claymore’s blade bit into the demon’s flesh, but Valnera couldn’t force it all the way through. The flesh was simply too thick. However, she managed to tear her weapon free before the demon could get its claws on it.
“What the hell?” she snapped as she assumed a fighting stance and readied her claymore once more. There was no way that a demon, especially one with such withered limbs, could be this strong.
Unless…
Valnera threw a glance at Victor, and, like she had expected, he was cowering even more. If there was a puddle of urine in front of him, she didn’t notice it, but the presence of one would not have surprised her in the least.
She turned her gaze back on the demon. It let out a savage, inhuman laugh followed by a grin that revealed the majority of its needle-like teeth.
“I know what the problem is now,” she said. It was simple: the demon was feeding on Victor’s fear.
The demon let out a roar as it brought all four of its claws down upon Valnera. She leaped back before sprinting toward Victor. The demon was already charging again. Valnera quickly smacked Victor upside the head with enough force to render him unconscious before rushing forward to meet the horror head on and kicked it. Her booted foot landed in the center of the demon’s chest, sending it staggering back.
Valnera swung her claymore at the horror, leaving a thick gash in its side but no lasting damage. The demon lunged forward and brought all of its claws down upon Valnera once more, and she dared to parry, allowing herself to grin when she retained her grip on the blade. The demon had lost its strength. She pulled her claymore back and hacked at the demon, cutting deep into its flesh
But, before the demon could finish its cry of pain, Valnera had already torn her claymore free to decapitate the horror. The corpse’s flesh quickly became a pool of blood, leaving only the bones behind it.
Valnera walked over to Victor and nudged him awake with her boot.
Victor blinked a few times before looking up at Valnera. “What just happened?” he asked.
“I killed the demons,” Valnera replied tersely.
“It looked like you were having trouble there for a bit…”
“Only because your fear was feeding the damn thing. But, it’s dead now.” Valnera paused. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business elsewhere.”
“Wait.” Victor spoke in a cold, commanding tone.
Valnera did stop, but she didn’t look over her shoulder at the boy, because that’s all he was:
A boy.
“What?” she said, matching Victor’s tone.
“I want to come with you.” Victor stood up, taking a forward stance.
“No.” Valnera’s tone left no room for argument.
“But I can learn from you.”
“If you had any discipline, perhaps. But, as it stands, you are unfit. Stay here; you’ll be safer.”
“Safer? The village is burning. Jacob might be dead. What would that leave me here then?” Victor had always wanted to leave; this was the opportunity that he had been awaiting for his whole life, and he would not let it slip by.
“You should be hoping that Jacob lived.”
“Why? So I can deal with that bastard my whole life?” Victor paused. He couldn’t believe that he had just called Jacob that. But, that didn’t stop him from continuing. “I hate it here! I absolutely hate it here! I want to leave and live the life of an adventurer, a life like your’s.”
At that, Valnera turned her gaze to meet Victor’s with heavy sorrow pooled in her hazel eyes. “My life isn’t glorious, Victor,” she said softly. “It’s filled with blood and death. Stay here. You’ll be able to find work somewhere, even if Jacob is dead.” She began to walk out of the burning tavern.
“No!” Victor shouted defiantly. Even he was surprised at how loud the shout was. “I have been waiting to leave my whole life. When I watched you kill that first demon, I felt something.” He gulped. “For the first time in my life, I felt like I had worth. I felt like I could do something to make things better. I don’t want that feeling to go away.
“Please, Valnera, teach me. Help me help make things better. We need more heroes like you.”
Valnera smiled at being called a hero. Very few ever referred to her as such, and even fewer meant it.
But Victor did.
“Fine,” she said, “Let’s go get my horse. Hopefully, the stable has another one. Do you know how to ride?”
“A little,” Victor replied.
“Good.”
Valnera began walking out of the tavern again, and Victor ran so that he could catch up to her.
They didn’t encounter any townsfolk as they walked, and both were glad for it. Victor took one last look at the flaming shambles of the Prideful Boar before walking away.
“By the way, Valnera, here’s your dagger,” Victor said, holding it out to her by the hilt.
Valnera sheathed her claymore. “Keep it,” she said, “You’ll need it more than I will. Consider it your first weapon.” She handed him the sheath. “Strap it on and put the dagger in.”
Victor smiled as he did so. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
The rest of the walk to the stables passed in silence. When they arrived, Valnera quickly found her horse, a black stallion, which had all of her gear on it. Victor picked out a chestnut mare with a brown mane named Honey; she had always liked him. He saddled her up and guided her out of the stables by the reins without any help, to which Valnera gave a wry smile.
By the time Victor had done that, however, Valnera was already mounted and ready to leave.
“You’ll have to be quicker than that,” Valnera said, “Quickness, both of mind and body, can spell the difference between life and death.”
“Yes, Valnera,” Victor said before mounting Honey.
“Now, let’s get going. We might be able to get to the next village before sunrise.”
Valnera tugged on her stallion’s reins, causing it to start trotting away. Victor followed suit. As he began riding, a grin tugged at the edges of his lips, soon stretching from ear to ear.
He was finally leaving.
The End
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