Not All Heroes Are Guiltless

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Aela’s POV

“Be careful. We don’t want to warn them before the beta team can get in place.” Andy, or Marquis Andrew, my troops captain, whispers to me. I roll my eyes at him. We have been doing this for years now. I know the plan; he doesn’t have to remind me every time.

Andy just shakes his head with his finger pushed on his lips for silence. Ending any verbal protest, I could have given. It's not like he wasn’t silent, but he doesn’t want my smart ass commenting his hypocritical stance. We’ve been tracking this Bellarn troop for three days. They are crossing the dense forest of the outlands to help reinforce the independent port of Dugar. Not much of an independent port now. They must have a good treaty because these are from the royal Bellarn army. Luckily for us, its our job to capture them and get as many details as possible. The royal army is always ripe with intel.

On this mission, my targets are the three mages taking camp on top of an overhanging cliff. The warriors are camped underneath.

The mages are the lookouts. Two seem to be excellent wardsmen. The other must be purely combative because only two are on shifts during the night. Both are haggard after the journey, so sneaking through their wards have been easy for me to get more intel when we were scouting earlier.

Mages are few and far between. Most mages are from the ancient family lines. These families live two or three hundred years and some even longer. The older the mage could potentially be normally means the stronger the mage. A few benefits are that they usually end up taking up all the aristocratic positions in each country. The disadvantages are that the stronger the mage, the more likely fertility is usually low or non-existent. Leaving very few mages in the general population.

My three targets are from weaker family lines, but they have been trained excellently. One thing Bellarn is known for is that they hold no punches with most of the army.

I scratch at my neck, and the thick iron collar that protects me from the curse and mad magic of my birth feels heavy. Its impression rubs my tender neck raw, but after so many years, I barely notice except in these tense moments before I’m about to be in a risky situation. It's almost like a compulsive itch I can’t scratch. Nevertheless, it is a simple price to pay for the ability to control myself then become a rabid-human-eating wolf. The curse has gifted me a few perks, though. I can see the spells being built and weaved. The intricate movements between the plane of current sight and the plane of magic show the makeup and intention of each spell. With this ability, I can find weaknesses in these young mages wards almost like large holes is a lacy blanket they threw over them.

Upon closer review, it looks like the mages have already changed shift for the night. The first wardsmen should be too tired to be competent when the second wardsman falls. The alarm to their troop below will be missed, and we can capture the men down below. I smirk with confidence because this mission just became easier with the early shift change.

Andy signals me to start moving, and I initiate my internal countdown. I prepare myself by pulling my daggers at the ready. Andy is always right behind but has allowed me to take the first strike.

Ten, nine, eight.

I find a better advantage and step closer to my first target. He is oblivious to me, moving closer to him as he stretches his arms over his head. I snicker silently at the cracking of his joints. His muscles must be stiff from the cot.

Seven, six, five.

The target still has his back to me, and there are larger holes the farther I move in. He must think his outer layer is impenetrable and anyone will be detected because I don’t even have to try for how open his ward is closest to him.

Four, three, two.

The tent flap opens, and the two other mages appear. s**t, they should be asleep by now. They are grumbling softly to themselves, and I’m already in movement and can’t pull away. I have to keep pressing forward.

One.

I can’t disable all three mages at the same time. I must kill them and hope the beta team below can rush the main camp and keep someone alive. One of the mages is bound to be able to send an alarm when I strike.

I jump on the first mage, but the combat mage who just exited the tent pushes me back with air and throws me close to a tree trunk. I twist my hips to keep from falling to the ground. I land on my feet and pounce forward, slashing into the combat mage across his chest.

He grunts and then begins pulling power for a bigger and deadlier spell. Instinctively, I don’t give him a chance to find out what he’s building. I bring my daggers and aim for his throat. A fluid s***h is completed to only the sound of a gurgle as he drops to the ground.

Scanning my surroundings, I quickly assess the other two mages. My first target is now in a fight with Andy, but the third mage is just watching me with no expression on his face and no fear in his hazel eyes.

I wipe the blade on my hip to clear of blood as I saunter towards the third mage. I watch him for any changes in his pattern to see if he’s creating a trap for me. The mage just watches me, and I’m not sure what his tactic could be. I disguise my apprehension with a quick decisive charge, I attack him in a flurry. He steps back adeptly and dodges my onslaught of blades better than most of the trainers I have held over the last few years. I keep trying to land a hit, but I only get air in every strike.

Calm down. He will strike when you least expect it. If you aren’t ready or worse, angry, it would be easy for him to give you a fatal wound. I try to regulate my rage and impatience to find the secret behind his movements. I see the darkness of a drop of the cliff getting closer. An idea occurs to me. If I keep going, I will push him off the cliff. A mage can’t save himself from that great of a fall.

There are two more steps from the cliff, and he flinches. I stand ready for his attack. But yet, he only catches my wrists and holds them steadily. I’m instantly shocked by his overwhelming strength. Mages usually only train in mental arts, and very few are physically adept with fortitude and agility, like the ability to dodge a trained melee. I prepare for him to cast a spell, but my legs begin to quake as a vision floods my mind…

I look down around me and can see white fluffy clouds floating below me. Glancing upward, the peak of a mountain can be seen in the clear blue sky. The sun is piercing down at me.

Confused. I try to remember how I arrived here wasn’t I just in an intense fight? Is this the afterlife?

“Delia, how are you still mesmerized by this scene?” The voice is smooth and sends pleasant shivers. The memory of my father calling me his Delia makes me almost tear up. No one knows that he used to call me by that pet name. It is the only thing I have left of him. A single memory I still hold of him.

I turn around and gasp in shock. Looking right at me is the hazel eyes of the third mage. But his expression has a whisp of joy among his features. He couldn’t be strong enough to throw me into a vision. And why this place?

Rustles of rocks and crunching of snow erupt behind him. Three children are following him. One boy who looks like him and apparently the oldest; one girl who looks like a mirror image of me and my mother; and, a younger girl who has his eyes and hair but clearly more feminine almost like my Aunt Lana.

“Aela!” Andy shouts into my ear, and I’m brought back out of the daze of the vision and return my consciousness to my current fight. Andy has wedged himself between me and the third mage. Breaking his hold on me as the hazel eyed mage falls backward off the cliff.

The cursed voice in the back of my head screams in agony, but I can just barely hear it, “Nadar”.