“Every tree is sprite’s home.” Their words are a whispering echo and a wide smile breaks upon my face.
I close my eyes, taking another deep breath, worried I will lose this moment, and the sprites’ words will fade back into the wind.
“What doesTha’haynahmean?”
Another heavy gust of wind rocks the bed beneath me, and my mind begins to drift off. The gentle breeze falls upon my ears as my mind is swallowed by darkness.
“The old blood.”
The world is born in a deep shade of red. Streaks of dark crimson smeared across the floor. Lovely eyes, dulled by death, stare out from under a dark mass of hair stained by blood.
A tall man falls to his knees with a sickening thud, drowning in the gurgle of his last thoughts, thoughts he will never expel. My eyes water and my lungs burn as I choke on athick layer of smoke rising from the floor.
A demon stands in the doorway. I can feel the noise of its blade along the ridge of my spine as it drags it across the floor and reaches for me.
“Vihi’Valtour.” Its voice claws into the depths of my mind, painfully sharp, searching. I scream through the terror and the overwhelming agony.
“Shivaria.” My name. The promise of death on its tongue.
“Shivaria.” I leap toward the door and do something I’ve never done before. I run.
I break from the grounds and into the forest. Groves of ancient trees darken the night sky overhead, blotting out what light the waning moon casts into the scarlet hued world. I hear the strike of the demon’s heels behind me, the heavy breaths it draws as it gains on me in long strides.
I weave left, skirting the base of a giant cedar when its hand wraps around my arm and I slam against the trunk with all the force of my momentum.
I’m going to die.
Fear triggers my instincts. Everything I’ve ever been taught about defending myself pushes to the forefront of my mind, taking over my body as if all the years I spent training have a life of their own.
I grip the wrist of the hand holding me and twist until the unnatural angle threatens to break it. The grip slackens as the demon inhales a hissing breath. I don’t waste the moment. Using my leverage to pull its shadowed form toward me, I strike with my free hand. My fist lands right below the eye, before sliding off its face in a slick of fresh blood.
“Foc!” the demon yells.
I turn to run, my fear compelling me deeper into the forest where I can more easily lose it in the dark. A rigid arm wraps my waist and pulls me back, slamming me up against the tree.
“Why are you afraid of me?” it demands.
The crimson world shutters around me and I blink, trying to refocusmy eyes. I twist out of the arm binding my waist, blocking the hand that flies out to grapple me. I grab the demon’s shirt and pull it forward, carried by the weight of its momentum, and I throw out a leg, tripping it. I’m not quick enough when it latches onto my sleeves, taking me down with the force of its fall.
What remains of the crimson world shatters when the air is pushed from my lungs by the heavy weight landing on top of me, pinning my back against the forest floor.
“Stop!” the general growls, gripping my biceps.
I latch onto his sleeves and blink, inhaling the crisp clean air of the forest, the world coming into focus like a punch in the gut.
What have I done?
I will my body to relax and draw in a shuddering breath as I drop my head to the side, resting my chin against my shoulder. I can’t bring myself to look into his eyes, to let him see me in this moment where I know I’ve failed.
“Are you done?” His voice is softer than I expect, and I might have flinched if I had any room to move.
I nod, grasping for any way to salvage this.
“Look at me,” he demands gently.
I turn my head to face him, a break in the trees around us letting in a few stray rays of moonlight. The soft light casts a silver glow along the general’s scar, a stray sweep of black hair falling in front of his stormy eyes.
“Why did you run from me?” he asks.
