With each passing second, we drew ever closer to Crumbled Watch. We had been travelling for a while, and thankfully, the remnant castle lay much closer to the Wharf than the Mirrorlake. Even so, my stamina - or rather, the apparent lack thereof - was catching up to me. There was a nagging discomfort running through my body, burning muscles aching for minutes at a time before subsiding briefly.
Yet, I would bear the burden on my shoulders.
If Adelaide and I were to falter in our journey, all we knew would be lost.
The ensuing calamity's damage would be irreversible, and the island, with all the vast riches stowed away in the soil, would become a part of the Bloodmoon Bandits' blood-soaked emporium across the Thirteenth Sea - of that, I was confident.
For some time now, Adelaide and I have been jogging down Conquest Road, a treacherous road across the foothills that would eventually mouth out in the Sacred Mountains and Storm's Waltz. Both areas were off-limits for common folk and elitists alike.
I recalled Father's repeated warnings about the dangers within Storm's Waltz - a simple visit had killed his adventurous spirit long ago. It wasn't a surprising result; the death of his fellowship still haunted him to this day.
Adelaide stopped dead in her tracks, startled.
The sudden halt snapped me out of my head; I nearly bumped into her.
She turned around, "Cynthia," she called out softly, immediately grappling onto my waist and launching us both off the beaten path straight into the bushes.
"Ow," It was a rough landing, with branches scratching across my arms and face.
The yelp rewarded me a swift, unapologetic glare and a hushed, "Shh, they're out there."
She motioned me closer.
I crawled near the edge of the leaves, spotting torches bobbing up and down the road, illuminating the outlines of a handful of people. I noticed the garments. The individuals in question wore tailcoats, girdles and belts with scabbards mounted on their hips.
"How many do you see?" Inquired Adelaide.
"Three," rang my answer.
"Strain your eyes against the dark, Cynthia," she disagreed, "Count again."
I squinted, intently observing the silhouettes. My eyes were frantically scanning around for any trace of enemy forces. I shook my head in dismay, on the verge of giving up, when I noticed a shift in the shadows across the road. I caught a glimpse of two archers cautiously trailing the group whilst another scouted the area ahead.
"Six," I corrected myself.
"Excellent. Now let's gut these bastards before they run into more sentries."
"Adelai-" I was about to object when Adelaide got up, drawing her hip-bound daggers.
The seething rage she held at heart was unleashed.
She did not care for a tactical approach, no.
Adelaide rushed in, running up, blades at hand, immediately jumping the tallest of the bunch, plunging both daggers firmly into the man's neck simultaneously.
The others surrounded her as I closed the distance, none paying me any mind, being entirely occupied by a vengeful Adelaide.
She yanked out the steel blades one at a time, disengaging their scarlet kiss in a flow of motions, trailed by a stream of crimson running down the man's neck as he collapsed onto the ground, becoming no more than a speck of land amongst a shallow sea of his own blood.
The traumatising sight startled one of them; she stumbled in place - arm quivering as the tip of her blade was aimed towards Adelaide's chest.
There was a window of opportunity, yet I was overtaken by a sudden unwillingness to strike. I held the Rosario Rapier at hand, conflicted about taking a life. They had caused great suffering, but was a swift death adequate punishment?
Perhaps not, but capturing these renegades would consume too much time, time we did not have.
I put aside my emotions on the matter, honing my mind.
Two brave souls commenced the storm of swords, their every blow whiffing their mark.
I lunged forward, ready to fell my mark.
The rapier's tip was a moment away from delivering a lethal strike.
However, the sound of my footsteps had drawn my target's attention; she turned.
Her eyes widened, as did mine.
There was a painful expression reigning ever present across her face, same as mine.
We locked eyes briefly as a pool of blood welled up in her mouth, spilling and dripping down - one droplet at a time. Deep within her eyes, I came across something I had not initially expected; it had nestled within the depths of her mind; it was fear.
She looked terrified as the life faded from within her body - it reminded me that they, too, were humans, even if greed corrupted them into monstrous beings.
"I'm sorry," I mustered up the words, which only met a muffled choking.
I tore the blade loose, blood gushing out the entry wound. My thrust had struck deep, through flesh and bone alike - protruding from the other side of her body, piercing directly through the lungs.
She plummeted to the ground as I stood still, enveloped in a deep state of shock.
I had claimed a premature life.
My jaw dropped to the floor as the magnitude of my actions truly dawned upon me.
With stifled breath, my hand began to tremble uncontrollably.
A sticky liquid covered the fair majority of the rapier's guard and my hand; it had chilled down significantly within seconds.
My mind had been taken off the ensuing chaos entirely, leaving Adelaide to fend for her own. She dodged and weaved her way between flurries and quick jabs - occasionally countering with surgical precision when the appropriate moments presented themselves.
It was as though she was possessed, becoming a winged demon of untold ferocity.
During my moment of weakness, Adelaide had taken care of three others: an archer and two fools who dared approach with broad cutlasses. She was exceptionally skilled with her ruby-adorned twinned daggers; I vividly recalled her excitement when Vhersio gifted them as opposed to an engagement ring.
Still trapped in my anxiety-induced mental prison, I could no longer hold on to my blood-soaked armament; the task at hand was too substantial. It glided through my fingers onto the ground.
One of the two survivors, a red-haired burly brute, noticed. He immediately disengaged Adelaide and charged towards me.
"Deah!" Adelaide roared, her voice triumphing over clattering blades. "Watch out!"
A profound panic struck me, yet my legs would heed no command.
My lips were firmly pressed together as a scream threatened to tear through.
The ruffian rocked me off my feet, restraining me in place with a cutlass to my throat. "Surrender your weapons."
The metal blade, though stationary, its sharp edge caressed the skin on my neck, a streak of red across a blank canvas.
Adelaide looked on, fear-stricken at the sight.
"Let her go," she snarled.
Adelaide was met with a scoff.
Surrender was the only option.
So much was certain; the song of sundering steel had ended.
Adelaide dropped her daggers, immediately getting tackled to the ground face-first. The brute's companion was a small, bald man with muscular arms and a scrawny beard. He immediately grappled onto her, rope at hand and bound Adelaide in place.
The brute laughed at the pitiful sight.
Another batch of pirates approached, likely having the agonising death screams.
One of the new arrivals' eyes widened at the sight of the slaughter, "What happened here?!"
The brute's companion glared at Adelaide, "These wretches happened."
A girl no older than I, wearing an eyepatch, narrowed her remaining eye and said, "We ought to pay them in kind."
"There is a faith worse than death," said the brute, checking us both out, "Bet some fuckers across the Ember Isles would be interested in these bitches."
I couldn't believe my ears. The Ember Isles were notorious for all the wrong reasons; bans of luxury, closed borders with highly restricted travel between portions of the archipelago, and, if I recalled correctly, the ruling lord's predecessor had legalised slave trading.
With that in mind, I dared not imagine what would become of me - then I caught a glimpse of Adelaide's sudden, seething rage. Her eyes were burning - almost literally.
In an instant, the air began to shift, heating up.
The pirates exchanged knowing looks of concern; all but the brute - whose sword remained on my throat, had started to run away. The man behind me was quivering, trembling in a profound fear. I had no clue what was going on, yet I knew I did not stand at the centre of their aversion.
The blade drew closer to the veins in my neck.
I was equally frightened as the brute.
I closed my eyes, flinching as steel touched my fresh wound.
For a split-second, I thought my body had recoiled and I could my life force leaving my body on the spot. Brief flashes of old times passed me by, as did some kind words loved ones had told me over the years.
Mother, Father and Petyr's faces all passed through my head as I momentarily readied myself for Death's embrace.
A lethal kiss that I would evade somehow...
I couldn't feel the cold edge against my skin. I could not hear the man's ragged breathing; I heard only screams.
I squinted; the pendant around my neck... v-vibrated.
There was a blinding light ahead of me.
Cocking my head, the escapee captors' smouldering corpses lay numb on the ground behind me, coated in ash and burn marks. There were holes across their torsos, yet no spilt blood. The wounds had cauterised as though a hailstorm of flaming bullets cleaved through them.
I swept my gaze across the ground, locking onto a puddle of molten steel.
Confused, I glanced behind me; the ghastly image of a burnt skeleton was all I saw. Some chunks of flesh had been left untouched. Somehow, my body had seemed to partially shield them from whatever had occurred. Perhaps the old man's words held a truth after all?
Then again, the things that had ensued and the things I had seen were terrible.
Cursed, even.
Nevertheless, none prepared me for the fiery cherry on top.
Dying embers blew along the wind towards me. The rich, mellow smell of burning wood permeated the air. The soil beneath Adelaide had dried up completely, turning brittle and cracked with scorched earth spread throughout.
Three rings had emerged across the ground, marked by tiny specks of flame. I realised the heat was coming from its centre, yet there was something I could not fully comprehend.
It was Adelaide, though distorted nearly beyond recognition.
Her eyes - no longer glistening coconuts but a deep maroon hue- were shimmering, devoid of emotions. The rest of her face was twisted, too. Red archaic sigils had been scattered throughout, from her cold, narrow eyes to her high cheekbones and down to her jawline.
I beheld the remainder of the crazed sight; lines of red, glowing runes ran across her entire body, seamlessly following the upper veins.
Her breathing was shallow and rapid. It was inhuman, leaning deep into the bestial spectrum.
She had retrieved her ruby-etched daggers, wiping them clean across her blood-touched camisole.
They, too, had been afflicted by whatever was going on; their blades had turned into something akin to frozen flames.
I was baffled.
Shocked and scared out of my mind.
I sought to run, yet my quivering legs would not obey once again.
I was fear-stricken.
My mind was going crazy, and I needed answers.
How the hell? What did I end up in?
In a blink, all the odd events came to mind: the tremor upon the Mirrorlake's bridge, the traveller's calling, my parents' odd discussion within the Council Chambers, the resurgence of the satchel and the sudden invasion.
In a twisted way, I now knew I was not imagining things; instead, they were all true.
The revelation settled in slowly, followed by another; if all the happenings were actually real, what other secrets were buried underneath my ignorance?
Adelaide slowly walked over, albeit shakily.
"C-Cynthia," she muttered, having reverted into her original self, "I'm sorry."
The comment took me by surprise.
Adelaide was stumbling in place, dropping onto her knees and then towards the coarse dirt.
I ran over, barely managing to catch her.
I wondered what she was sorry for.
She had saved my life tonight.
Adelaide was exhausted.
Her skin was hot to the touch, almost as though she exerted all her powers earlier and was now paying the price for it.
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