I both loved and hated when it stormed in the north. I loved the calmness, the quiet reverence that seemed to descend amongst oursaruk. And yet, after a storm, my father had always trained me hardest. He hated the rain. It made him remember his days of war in the southeast.
After those stormy days, when the air was chilled and hushed, he battled me to a bloody pulp and wasn’t content until my sword was dulled from his strikes and my body was battered.
TheVorakkarscars from the Trials inDothikwere nothing compared to the scars my father had given me.
When my eyelids lifted to darkness, I sensed movement at my legs but I held still. My temple was throbbing, my mouth was dry, and my strength was gone. Exhaustion pulled at me, trying to lure me to sleep once more, but I fought to process what had happened.
When I lowered my gaze down the stretch of my body, I sawher.
The female.
Thevokkingwitch.
I felt rage swell like a wave but I kept it close and tight. Emotions were a weakness. Stronger ones even more so.
She didn’t know I was awake. She was standing, hunching over me, and was…tending to my legs. I felt the sting of them before my gaze adjusted to the dim light and I saw the skin was torn and bloodied. I didn’t know how they’d gotten into such a state. I didn’t remember anything after…
The fog.Her, with her bewitching gaze and beautiful voice.
She’d set a trap for me. And like an unwitting beast, I’d followed her into it without hesitation.
Me.
TheVorakkarmost considered cold to the point of cruelness.
Nothing about me had felt cold in the fog, when I’d been with her, however. My body had burned, my blood had rushed hot.
Her touch was gentle as she blotted a grey cloth against my wounds. The water was ice-cold but I was glad for it. It helped numb the flesh.
My wrists were shackled in cuffs but I didn’t want to move my head to see where they were tethered. I was in a dark, circular room. The air was cold, yet…damp. Humid. Only a single torch was lit, casting the room a soft gold, the light flickering off walls of stone. Black stone. Like the mountains that littered this Kakkari-forsaken land.
I was lying on a table of sorts in the center of the room. Hard and unyielding underneath me. My gaze darted to the left and I saw horizontal rows had been chiseled into the wall. They were mostly empty, though a few vials and bottles were nestled comfortably there. Underneath the chiseled rows, there was a long stone table, though it was lower in height than the one I currently lay on. A workbench, I realized.
There was nothing else in the room, as small and circular as it was. Not even a fire basin to warm it.
My gaze flicked back to the human female standing near my legs. I watched as a long tendril of black hair escaped from behind her ear. I felt the brush of it tickle my bare thigh, felt the icy cloth freeze on my skin, and heard her breath hitch. In fear? Fear I would wake?
Too late,sarkia,I thought.
Her eyes darted to mine. I watched them widen in realization. Realization that I’d been watching her. Did that make her uneasy?
Good.
“Who are you?” I asked quietly, narrowing my gaze on her, watching as she stumbled back from the table, her backside hitting the workbench a few paces away.
I remembered males with her. Males that had no doubt dragged me here, where they’d shackled my wrists.
Where were they now? And how many of them were there?
“M-Min…” She took a deep breath, cutting off whatever she was about to say. Then I saw her gaze dart. To the door.
When I tilted my head downwards, I saw the door was wide open. Beyond it was more torchlight and I swore I caught the snores of a slumbering male. A guard?
Now that I moved my head, I saw that my feet were shackled. My eyes narrowed further when I saw it was Dakkari steel.BlackenedDakkari steel.
Vok.
I looked at my wrists. The same.
