KINGSLAYER

♕ 2 | 8 ♕

Just as I feared. A fully-grown krivex. Like many of the creatures we encountered, they were nothing but a legend in Oceana. Until now.

The only option was to turn left and run off the path from the beast. It was infinitely more difficult to run on ground that was not intended for human feet, and overhanging bushes pushed back against my hurried legs. A monkey whooped from somewhere high above, likely warning its brethren of the krivex's presence.

As if things could not take a worse turn, there was a dead end ahead where a tree rotted from the inside and fell, creating a barrier higher than I was tall. Given the time, it may have been possible to climb it, but we did not have any to spare. The krivex was much more skilled at leaping and bounding, anyway. It was no use.

The distance closed and we were trapped. My thoughts were a flurry of nonsensical survival instincts. I remembered the existence of my swords a moment too late. The krivex sprang forward, claws fully extended. The glint of them was burned into my mind.

Feinting to the side, two of us just barely escaped the beast's clutches. It was close enough now to envelop me with its earthy smell. I took several uneasy steps back, unsheathing my swords. I remembered who I was. What I was here for. And what relied on my being alive.

The krivex came frighteningly closer, opening its jaws for the first and last attack. With both hands on the hilt, I swung out—

An arrow stuck from the back of the krivex's front shoulder, the point of it directed exactly at me. It made the beast stop. Another pierced directly below it, dangerously close to hitting either of us. The krivex swung its head to peer through the brush behind it. Whatever it sensed made it give up the attack and run away in surrender.

Squinting into the same direction, Alexander muttered, "What the...?"

Female figures. At least six of them. And they were watching us, as well. Oh Gods, I thought. Witches. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

I knew little of witches other than the stories from high-society travelers who visited the castle before my father's descent into paranoia. They spoke of metallic claws, of fangs, of poisonous black blood and too many eyes. They also spoke of the witches' inhuman powers: organ-altering and bloodcurdling evil abilities. "They are like Gods," the travellers had insisted, "Only they have none of the Gods' mercy and all of their wrath."

My sword felt too heavy in my hands. Could I kill a witch, much less six of them?

Two of them darted closer. Every muscle in my body instinctively tensed. Surely they would have shot us by now. Or were they planning to take their time killing us torturously?

"Who are you?" the taller one called out in the Eastern Language. Her skin was pale and her lips were pink—the signs of red blood.

Alexander glanced over at me as if silently checking what our plan was, but I called back, "We are nothing but weary travellers in search of a better life past Courteaux. We want no trouble." Better for them to underestimate us if it came to a fight.

The girls ventured closer, still holding their weapons aloft. So they were human, after all. Despite the relief that sank in, I did not loosen my grip on my blade. "What are your names?" the same one asked—a severe-looking woman with choppy hair just past her slanting jaw, as if she cut it herself.

"Alexei Lukovich," Alexander lied swiftly and smoothly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

I was not so falsely charming. "I am Celadine Priscelli." Celadine was my sister's second name. "Who are you?"

A girl with doe eyes and short sweeping strands of hair curtaining her face spoke. "We are...well, where to begin? There are much more of us than this measly amount, but they are preoccupied with our catch of the morning." With this, she spread her hands. "The simplest answer is that we are huntresses. This forest is filled with monsters who crawled forth up the unsealed cracks from the depths of Thanatos. We kill them."