“Don’t worry,” I bite back, my voice thick with the sting of it, “I’ll be out of your way in no time.” With that, I turn and storm back into the manor, my chest tight.
I’m not hungry anymore.
What I need is a bath, a moment to clear my head, and a good night’s sleep to forget about all this bullshit.
24
Avilyna
NOT A DREAM
It’san unusual warm winter day.The kind that tricks you into thinking everything’s okay. Snow glistens under the sun like scattered shards of crystal, and the market is bursting with energy. Laughter, scents of roasted nuts and spiced cider, everyone’s gearing up for theWinter Solstice, the Grianstad.
It’s my favourite time of the year.
But even with all the noise, something feels off. That quiet hum of intuition is louder than usual, a bell ringing somewhere I can’t quite hear. I stay close to Alek; he’s my twin, but the resemblance only goes so far.
We share the same freckled nose, the same olive skin and peridot eyes, but where his hair is midnight black, mine burns red. I follow him, barely listening, my mind somewhere else. Thinking, maybe Mom will finally let me train at the Institute.
Maybe I’m ready.
That’s when it hits, a screech tears through the air, high, sharp, unnatural. For a second, I think it’s in my head. But then panic erupts, and people run.Elves, witches, everyone’s bolting like an explosion just crashed into the square. I spin toward Alek.
“What—what’s happening?” My voice cracks, dry and raw. Then I see him, my brother is standing still, too still.
And the intuition that’s been clinging to me all day burns hot in my gut.His hands are around his middle, eyes wide and terrified. Then, blood, coughing and spilling from his mouth. A gurgling sound follows, and crimson hits my face as he chokes and sputters helplessly.
No.
No, no, no.
I rush forward, desperate to reach him, but I don’t make it. Something slams into me, hard. Hitting the side of a cart, I knock over fruits and bread, before the world spins. Dazed, I blink up, and I see it, a demon—and it has Alek.
I need to get to him. I have to stop this, but my body won’t listen to the commands my brain is desperately trying to send. It’s as though I’m stuck in time. Fear freezes me, forcing me to watch as his body goes limp in the monster’s arms, disappearing into the trees. I force myself up, knees shaking.
“Avilyna!”
Sam grabs me, andI latch onto my other brother like a lifeline, even if we don’t share the same blood; he’s my family. “The norous took Alek! We have to go after it!”
“We can’t! They are everywhere!” Sam yells as his hand tightens around my arm, his fear evident.
And then I see them, more demons, varkuuns, norous, and the scream of harpies echoing through the village cries.Not just a few, dozens, maybe more. The demon’s stomps shake the earth beneath our feet, thunder made of hate. They varkuuns charge from the shadows as a living wave of nightmares. They’re massive, snarling beasts wrapped in crude iron and torn leather. Their armour is hammered together from bones, scraps, and stolen steel. Some wear skulls as trophies and their eyes...
Kvirr, their eyes are burning with hunger, but not for food, for suffering. This isn’t war to them, it's a sport.Blood drips in thick, dark strands from jagged weapons, still warm from their last kill. They howl and bark in some harsh, guttural language, but the message is clear: they’re enjoying this.
One slams into a vendor’s cart, shattering it in a single swing, splinters flying around, resolute to reach the merchant. At an arm’s distance, the varkuun lifts the man by its head before the pressure becomes too much. I look away.
Spotting another snatching a witch by the arm and flinging her against a wall so hard the bricks turned red, left unmoved on the ground.
All efforts are useless…
I can hear people screaming.
Not battle cries, but the kind that comes from deep in your chest, guttural, desperate, the one when you finally admit this is it.
A child barely smaller than us runs past me, sobbing, chased by two orcs, and they’re laughing.
Laughing.
