On Death's Honor

Chapter 25: The Importance of Vengeance

The creatures that had suddenly come to life stood next to their fallen shells, a humanoid mass of gaping, twisted wood, roots, and vines, a pair of amber orbs glowing where their eyes sockets would be. And there they remained, frozen, heads tilted slightly towards the sky while their sinewy arms hung limply at their sides, as if they were waiting for some sort of direction. The smoke, on the other hand, continued to flood the sky like a beacon of death, telling any onlookers to stay the hell away.

Through the dull glow the smoke provided, I could see people filtering out of their homes, unsure of what to make out of the sudden topple of so many trees. I studied over the pitched tents and caravans that also dotted the countryside.

Where is your Circle, now? I thought, clutching the hilt of the sword I held at my side.

The horses were next. At least, that's what they used to be. I wasn't quite certain where, exactly, they came from, but their hooves shook the ground, sending thunderous roars of promised terror throughout the countryside. Skeletal beasts of shadow and blood, these abominations emerged from the treeline, jumping over the fallen wood to skid to a halt behind the figures still waiting for their mistress. One even leapt over my head, a horrifying site of cracked, disfigured bone in the shape of a horse.

I was so transfixed on the scene enfolding before me that I didn't realize she was there until she'd already walked past me. I was hidden within the shrubs and soil, my dark cloak covering my body and head like a protective blanket, but that shouldn't have stopped her from noticing me. It took every bit of restraint to keep myself from moving, rushing to calm my heart to keep the fear at bay.

Nymphs had a distinguished sense of smell, and their night vision - certain types, at least, but certainly not excluding nymphtans - excelled far higher than that of a human. If she would just take the moment to take in her surroundings, she would notice me.

It seemed her focus was solely on the city ahead.

Still, I watched this slim, evil creature with skin as dark as night, her naked body painted in glowing red symbols of a language only spoken by the damned. Bits of ebony wood made up her clawed fingers and hands, covering patches of her skin. Judging from the shredded, raw scars that marked bits of her flesh, pieces of wood had been completely ripped off her person at some point.

She wasn't tall by any means. Most human men around these parts could sling her over their shoulder if one was going by weight and size alone. It would be the last thing they'd ever attempt.

There was a chain - a necklace, of some sort - that she wore around her neck. She was already ahead before I could figure out what charm that hung from it, however.

"Mount your steeds," she spoke, her otherworldly voice soft and cold. "Do not breach the gates. Tonight, we feast."

In an instant, the grove spirits snapped to, tossing their arms over the beasts as the nymphtan had told.

And to think, I could end it. All it took was a quick reaction on my part, and I could plunge my sword straight through her back before anyone had to die. She was right there, within easy reach. I could do it. I have done it, many times. I thought of Igna, of how she'd been so scared to die, how her young mind scrambled to catch up with the years this evil bitch took from her.

Then I thought of the symbol that was carved on Bruu's door. How there was a man sent to die a death meant only for the worst of the worst over what was most likely mere superstition.

One day, I was going to pay for the things I've done and the things I continued to do. Even while that maddening, crazy little voice inside my skull broke into a laugh, I let the nympthan walk forward. Let her lead a charge on unarmed people. I crawled back to avoid the smoke, standing when I was confident that I would remain unbothered by the nymphtan army.