GREY

Sight

s***h’s body splashed into the water. It was cold as ice. The weights dragged her down quickly, and the pressure that the water applied on her squeezed out all the air that she held within. Her lungs screamed for air but all that she could inhale was water. What was the point? Her home was destroyed, her people killed. The only person she looked up to was dead, and soon the only person that meant anything to her was going to die.

Slash embraced the water. When she stopped resisting, her drowning became a bad dream, nothing more. Her body merged with the water and became one with it. She felt the currents in her consciousness, and little by little, the light began to ebb. So much for following Grey. This is what she got for being his lackey. A mutilated body at the bottom of Vespers.

I hate you, Grey.

Beyond the Vespers Bridge was a steep terrain that challenged the progression of humans and horses alike. The track wound up a mountainside, its right flank hugging the steep while its left fell off into a perilous cliff. Many children could not go on, having spent the entire day without eating anything. Infernal blood was a blessing and a curse. In times of need it could generate power, but without nourishment, the blood would consume its host. And once that started, it’d be difficult to stop.

Sight carried a young girl who had collapsed a few miles back as the coffle descended yet another hillock in the belt. The sun had passed zenith and dark clouds were approaching from the west. Sight was hungry and tired, and her muscles were fatigued. She wondered what fate awaited the young one she carried. She could not look into her future even if she wanted to. The witch had used her magic to dampen their power. All the infernals marched with no heart towards the altar of s*******r, the holy knights who escorted them riding like triumphant champions.

The forest flattened once again, and the track took them towards the holy village of Ra. Before they reached it, the witch approached Sight.

“You can place that child down,” she said coldly. She gestured at one of the guards. “Untie this one.”

With that command, Sight was removed from the coffle. The rest moved on, leaving her alone with the witch.

“I took the liberty of looking inside your head,” the witch said. “Tell me, what did this Grey mean to you?”

Sight never understood what Grey had represented in her life. He had saved her like a prince from a fairy tale, took her in like a father, protected her like a guardian and ordered her like her master. Despite everything, Grey had never forced her to obey any command. Instead, he had given her meaning. Sight was her name, and it carried purpose. She had willingly subjected herself under Grey, and even in death, she would remain faithful.

“I…I don’t know,” Sight confessed.

“I see,” the witch speculated. “I will offer you a chance to stand by my side. You can live. Together we can serve Empress Feonna. You’ll know what wielding true power feels like.”

Sight could not have accepted the offer even if Egnir was given to her. Was she foolish in doing so? No, she was strong. Grey had told her that she wielded the strongest will he had ever seen. She had believed in him. Now it was time to believe in herself. She looked at the witch directly, trying to search for her eyes underneath the cowl.

“I can’t,” she said.

To her surprise, the witch pulled her hood back. She was young and beautiful, her eyes so blue that a clear sky could not compare. Her complexion was fair, her auburn hair tightly twisted into a single braid that vanished under her robe. The witch’s face registered no emotion, but that aside, she could not have been older than s***h, whom at the most, Sight assumed, had seen thirty summers.

“You and I are not that different,” the witch said, sounding more humane. “I am just as loyal to Empress Feonna as you are to Grey. I will execute her commands without questioning. It is unfortunate that she ordered me to kill you if you were not willing to join her.”

“I understand,” Sight said, accepting her fate. “If I may ask, what did you do with the human?”

The witch looked surprised, but her composure did not waver. “A dragon messenger came for her in the morning. Her coronation awaits. And speaking of dragons…”

A huge shadow swept across the skies. It circled slowly and swooped to the ground, crushing the brush under its four clawed feet. The beast looked reptilian, with small, shiny silver scales that overlapped from its crown to the tip of its tail. Its wings tucked in as the witch approached it, and it lowered its head to the ground. The witch placed a hand on its large muzzle. It only had to open a fraction of its maw to gobble her whole. And those long, sharp teeth… Sight’s limbs trembled against her will.

“It is time we go home,” the witch addressed the dragon.

The dragon’s nostrils flared, emitting shafts of grey smoke. The witch saddled on the crook between the dragon’s wings and spared a glance at Sight. She pulled her cowl back on and patted the dragon’s neck. The beast rose. It walked towards Sight and clutched her in one of its front feet, if they could be called feet. The dragon’s body heaved upward, and in a couple of gigantic thrusts, its wide wings lifted its body into the air.

Sight felt sick. The last time she had taken flight was with Grey when she was fifteen. But that had been a pleasant and enjoyable ride on a giant eagle from the lands of Gildor. This was different. The dragon’s toes felt like iron chains that were wrapped tightly around her. She could barely breathe, but that did not matter. Her fate was decided.

For over a mile the dragon carried her. They came upon a barren rocky expanse that was filled with small hills. The dragon flew higher. The air became cold. It became so dense that attempting to inhale made Sight suffocate. She squirmed in the dragon’s iron grip, and all of a sudden, the beast let go.

Sight plunged to the ground at an incredible speed. For a moment she thought the dragon’s grip had slipped, but she realized that the witch had intended this to happen. Ever since she came to live with Grey, Sight had never bothered learning to harness elemental magic. If she had learnt how to manipulate air, she could have landed safely. The witch knew she couldn’t. The wind roared inside Sight’s ears and made the fall more frightening. Far under her, solid rock awaited. She shut her eye and tried to brace herself for the brutal impact.

Abitha was an unfortunate child from the beginning. She was born to a brothel mistress, and since the birth of an infernal demanded life, her mother had died before she knew her. The bawd had decided to keep her as part of his merchandise.

At the age of five, her power to see the future manifested. She warned the mistresses of the tavern that bandits from Gildor would raid and plunder their village, slaughtering and eating anyone in their wake. No one listened to her. On the fateful night, she witnessed her first vision come to life. She survived by hiding in the basement wine cellar. When the smoke cleared, she left the lifeless village and headed North.

After a few days, she came upon another village. There Abitha found a new family. She thought she’d find happiness and live a normal life, but once her foster parents discovered her gift and that she was an infernal, their attitude towards her changed completely. They started treating her like an animal. They took all sheets and placed them in the sty, where she had to make herself a bed of straw. She had to work all day for her food, and she was not allowed to play with other children or leave the house.

One day, when she was eight, a sorcerer visited. He told Abitha’s parents that he wanted Abitha’s eye for the Oracle of his land. According to him, the eyes of a Seer could be transplanted. At the time, the young girl had no clue on how to use her sight. The sorcerer paid a handsome price, and in exchange Abitha’s parents willingly offered her left eye.

At age ten, the sorcerer returned to procure Abitha’s remaining eye. Her parents had made a fortune out of the last payment, and they were eager to sell the girl off if it gave them more gold. Fortunately, Abitha had seen it coming. Over the past two years, she had taught herself how to use her power. Her trigger was misery, and whenever she tapped into it, she could see everything that she wanted. Abitha fled into the woods. She had nothing in this world, and her sight was all that kept her from feeling alone. She’d rather die than go blind, and she promised herself that if it came to deciding one day, she’d gladly kill herself.

Abitha traversed the unending forests of Northern Egnir in an attempt to get as far as possible from her false family. She walked the untamed wilderness, armed with her sight and a knife. However, in her effort to evade and survive, she forgot to use her sight. After a couple of weeks, a hungry, tired girl encountered a trio of mercenaries. They easily unarmed her and tied her up as their bounty. One of them identified her as an infernal, and he knew an unregistered witch who would pay a good sum to extract her power.

Abitha was filled with hate. She hated everything so much that if she ever unlocked more of her infernal power, she’d use it to destroy the world. She hated the mercenary who always insisted on carrying her. He kept touching her and promising her fun once they reached the capital. He assured her that he’d bathe her and enjoy the reward of his hard work before giving her off to the witch. Hate clouded her sight to the point where she saw nothing.

There was an old village a couple of miles from the city. It was once inhabited by infernals, or so people said. While passing through the ruins, the band noticed an old man sitting in their way. He roasted a rabbit over a fire and seemed unaware of the danger that approached him.

“Just our luck,” one of the mercenaries said. “Old man, we’ll be taking that in exchange for letting you live. We’ll even let you keep your possessions.”

The man stood and faced the mercenaries. He wielded no staff nor talisman. Most likely he was a harmless pilgrim. He laughed, startling the three men.

“I have a better offer,” the old man said. “Place the girl down and be gone. I will only say this once. If you hesitate I will kill you where you stand.”

One of the mercenaries drew a dagger. The next thing Abitha remembered was the old man breaking the rope that tied her with his bare hands. He threw his cowl back, revealing a wrinkled face that defied its age with a graceful smile.

“You must be hungry,” the man said. “I took the liberty of catching this earlier just for you. Come on, you must savor the meat while it’s still hot.”

The old man walked back to attend his roast as if nothing had happened. Abitha stood still, the shock that gripped her crippling her coordination. The three men had no wounds, but all of them were dead. Abitha wanted to run again, but she had no strength to. The last thing she had eaten was a couple of raw mushrooms two days ago. The smell of roasting meat was so alluring she could not resist. She had to eat first, then she would run for it before the crazy old man stole her eye or extracted her power.

Abitha devoured the rabbit like a hungry wolf. The old man watched her with keen interest and did not speak to her until she was finished. Her stomach groaned for more. The old man chuckled.

“I’ve plenty of food at my place. I will offer you a choice, young one. I have a bag of food that can last three days if you eat sparingly. You can take it and be on your way. Or you can come with me and live a life with purpose. I need your sight, but it is you who must use it. All that I promise if you choose to come with me is your safety. As long as I live, under no circumstances will you come to harm. In exchange, you will be my eyes where I cannot see.”

Abitha did not trust the old man. She tried to tap into her power to see what would happen, but nothing came. Something was not right. The man had mentioned that he had caught the rabbit for her. Could he see things too? Was he an infernal? Kindness was something rare to Abitha. She was afraid of trusting, but if the old man was indeed as good as he appeared, she had to take her chances with him.

“Will I have a nice place to sleep? With good clothes and food?” she asked. “Will I have friends? And…will I be happy?”

The old man rose to his feet and offered her a hand, staring compassionately at her with bright hazel eyes. “Let’s go and find out.”

The first thing Sight felt was her wrists snapping like twigs. Her arms popped out her elbows and her ribcage ruptured. She tried to cry out, but the pain was so intense all she could do was feel it. She never got to see her broken legs or the rest of her mangled body. Pain seared through her head as her skull fractured and cracked. A strong light filled her vision. The pain faded in pulses until she could feel it no more. She breathed once, and she was free.