"L-let go of me!" the woman cried and braced herself with all her strength against the one who had grabbed her.
The bloodcurdling voice sent my pulse racing.
Her pulling and struggling were ignored. The shadow that had stayed farther back stepped forward.
A few words were murmured, but I was too far away to understand anything.
While the woman caught her breath after her futile attempts to break free, the three figures turned in the direction they had come from and dragged her along with them.
I swallowed. What exactly had just played out before my eyes? Had a criminal been apprehended?
No. A criminal would not have drawn attention to herself like that.
Was it a kidnapping? That did not make sense either. Why would the others simply watch?
The townspeople with the lantern had already disappeared behind the next house. Meanwhile, the three who had seized the woman passed the window that cast light onto the street.
My eyes narrowed. I followed every one of their movements with utmost care, listened to every sound, hoping to learn more.
They were only in the light for a brief moment, but I was fairly certain they were carrying weapons. Swords, to be precise. And all of them, except for the captured woman, were dressed in dark clothing.
The woman screamed:
"P-please! Someone has to get the city gua—"
Then she fell abruptly silent. Since they had merged with the darkness, I could not tell why.
With a bang, I slammed the window shut and slid the latch into place with a trembling hand.
It is not the same. It does not concern me.
My knees went weak, so I sat down on the bed.
I had not just stood by and watched someone get kidnapped, had I? Or had I?
No. Certainly not. The others had done nothing either. They had spoken with those who had joined them and had not called for the city guard or for help. Instead, they had walked on as if nothing had happened.
But what if the woman really had been kidnapped? Right in front of my eyes? She had said they would not let her live. Should I not help? Should I not at least check? Do something?
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
You must not get involved, Nova. Even if that was the case, you would only put yourself in danger. You cannot afford that. You know what happens if…
Yes… if… I did not dare finish the thought and bit down on my lip until a sharp pain flared.
But I knew all too well what it was like to need help and have everyone look away. When something terrible happened and no one cared.
"Oh, damn it," I heard myself curse softly.
Before I could stop myself, I sprang to my feet, grabbed my sword, and threw my brown cloak over my shoulders.
Just as expected, there was not much going on in the inn anymore. A few guests sat scattered at the tables, talking quietly.
I took the stairs two steps at a time.
When I reached the bottom, one of Val's employees approached me. He wore his hair cropped short and had green eyes.
"You are not going outside now, are you?" he asked in a hushed voice. Val had introduced him to me a few hours earlier, but I could no longer remember his name. He placed one hand on the banister, making it harder for me to slip past him.
"I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry," I apologized and ducked swiftly under his arm, slipped past the counter, and headed straight for the door.
My hand had already closed around the handle when, after a rustle, I heard the employee say behind me:
"You really shouldn't go out there. The city guards have been going from door to door to inform all citizens that it's currently too dangerous outside. There is a curf—"
I let the door slam shut behind me.
Truly, there was no time for that.
I ran toward the street I had seen from my window, but it was empty. There was no one in sight anywhere.
If only I had some light…
I headed in the same direction the strangers had disappeared with the woman.
Where were they? Feverishly, I scanned the streets, ran through them as quietly as I could, and checked every corner. Nothing.
In the end, I stopped for an instant to catch my breath.
I should have gone out immediately to check. What if something really had happened to that woman by now?
With my hands braced on my knees, my fingers dug into the fabric of my trousers.
I was standing beside the corner of a house. Just as I was about to turn back, grinding my teeth, a barely perceptible murmur reached my ears.
Was that them?
Silently, I pressed myself against the wall, edged forward to the corner, and peered out onto the open street.
Several silhouettes came into view.
The dense clouds thinned, allowing the two moons above Grania to cast their light upon the earth.
Three men and a woman. The men were carrying swords.
That's them!, I thought as I involuntarily held my breath.
The man with the dark scarf gripped her roughly by the arm and leaned closer so that only she could hear him as he spoke.
Suddenly, she refused to take even a single step further. Instead of dragging her along as he had before, he stopped as well.
The other two men halted and turned toward them. One of them planted his hands on his hips.
Strange. It did not look like they were criminals abducting someone. They were far too calm for that. But I doubted just as much that the woman they had seized was a criminal. She was afraid for her life. Executions had long since ceased to exist. At least among humans.
"You know if you… if you hand me over, Aurel will…!" the woman stammered more loudly.
"I know," the man replied, his tone almost gentle.
"Then let me go! I will appeal to the banner houses! He must not get away with this! My family…," the woman demanded, but her voice broke toward the end.
"Do you believe I would not gladly do exactly that?" he answered. "I regret to disappoint you, but the banner houses are aware of it. Who else do you think made all of this possible for Aurel in the first place? Have you considered that?"
The woman gasped audibly, while my eyebrow rose.
Banner houses? What did they have to do with this? Who were these people?
They resumed walking. The woman struggled against the man with the scarf, but she was no match for his brute strength.
"Kiyan stayed behind completely alone to at least save my father. If you hand me over, you will destroy everything he is fighting for right now!" she tried to sway him in panic as she stumbled along behind him.
I quietly stepped onto the street and followed them at a safe distance.
For just a brief moment, the man's shoulders tensed.
"That changes nothing. All it means is that he has signed his own death sentence," he said.
The woman hastily continued:
"He said there was an assassination attempt on him tonight and that he only survived because he was late. Because of you! So do not claim that you do not care. I do not believe you!"
I froze and came to a halt. An assassination attempt? Were they nobles?
As she continued arguing with the man, I followed them again, my brow furrowed.
Suddenly, he stopped. The woman fell silent at once.
My blood ran cold.
Damn it. Did he notice me?
He turned his head slightly and asked in a sharp tone:
"What do you want?"
My breathing quickened. I tensed, forcing myself to remain composed. Then I stepped forward.
In a rock-steady voice, I replied:
"I wanted to find out why you are abducting someone against their will in the middle of the night."
His eyes narrowed.
"Call the city guards!" the woman shouted at me.
If there had been any nearby, I would have called them.
Normally, some of them patrolled the streets at night, but today there was no one to be seen far and wide. The city felt as though it had been swept empty.
Now that I was closer, I could make out the people in front of me more clearly in the moonlight.
All three men wore the same uniform. It was so dark that I could hardly make out its color in the dim light. But the cut was all too familiar to me. Just like the crests over their hearts. I had seen them on Lucian.
The man with the scarf released the woman and looked at one of his followers. The man gave a brief nod, stepped up beside her, and seized her arm in his stead.
I blinked several times and murmured more to myself:
"You are from the Crown Guard."
What in the hell was the Crown Guard doing here? They answered directly to the monarch and consisted of elite warriors. They usually operated covertly. They dealt with sensitive matters, such as—
"Exactly," the man with the scarf addressed me, "this woman is a high traitor."
His deep, dark eyes rested on me. For a heartbeat, I forgot to breatheOld burn scars ran across the right side of his face and down his neck. He moved one hand to his weapon.
A high traitor? I looked at the woman. She had drawn up her shoulders and was trembling like an aspen leaf.
"That is a lie!" she cried hoarsely, "I am the—"
Involuntarily, my eye twitched. A lie, she said? This situation felt painfully familiar.
Damn it all.
The man beside her yanked her closer and hissed:
"That is enough. Be silent!"
She froze, her eyes wide.
A sharp pang stabbed at my heart. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could, the man with the scarf addressed me again:
"A curfew has been imposed for tonight. Did you not hear about it?"
"I know nothing about that," I lied with confidence.
That must have been what Val's employee had tried to tell me when I had rushed out of the inn.
"Go and stop hindering us," he ordered. His grip on his weapon tightened.
I stepped back.
What was I supposed to do? If they truly belonged to the Crown Guard, serious consequences could await me. Not just that… if they recognized me, then…
My gaze lingered on the stranger. None of this added up.
So I objected:
"If she is a high traitor, then why is she asking for help? Would someone like her not try to escape quietly instead of addressing random people on the streets? Would she not avoid drawing attention?"
The unknown woman nodded several times.
"If you do not leave, we will arrest you for obstruction of royal order," he threatened.
I took another step back. An arrest? No, no, no…
"Just as I thought," said the man with the scarf, giving the others a curt hand signal.
They turned and walked away. For an instant, my eyes met those of the woman.
The man with the scarf had only turned halfway. His eyes were still fixed on me.
"No!" the stranger began to scream, "Jarek, you are making a mistake!"
I clenched my hands into fists.
Now the man in front of me, who seemed to be called Jarek, also turned away from me and followed the others. For him, the matter appeared settled.
What should I do?, flashed through my mind for the hundredth time.
Letting them go in this moment would mean that, in the worst case, this woman would die.
But to stand against the Crown Guard…?
In the very same blink, I regretted that last thought. If I did nothing, I would be no better than those who had abandoned us back then. When the person who had meant my life to me was taken away. My family. My center. My sun.
Even today, I can still feel her cold fingers on my cheek. I was there for her last breath, when she whispered: 'It is up to you now.'
By now, my heart was beating so fast that I thought it might burst out of my chest.
Right. I had promised her. That I would go on. That I would use the gift she had given me at the time of her death for what was right.
But following her last wish would mean breaking the promise I had given my father.
I snorted. The way these men had left me standing here. As if they did not take me seriously. Maybe that was not such a bad thing after all.
Ah, damn it. Today I seem to be making one foolish decision after another.
As I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath, I reached for the sword.
With the cool night air filling my lungs, something gathered in my chest. A gentle warmth that slowly spread.
Then I took a second breath and opened my eyes again. The men of the Crown Guard were moving down the street, not sparing me a single glance.
The warmth within me weakened. My skin began to tingle. It grew stronger until it finally turned into a burning sensation. Like holding your hand too close to a candle and feeling the heat on your skin, yet remaining just far enough away not to get burned.
I clenched my teeth and drew another breath. A jolt shot through every muscle. Countless small impulses surged through my veins.
It had been a while since I had last used it. Hopefully my body would hold out long enough.
Unfortunately, it was the only way to stand my ground against elite warriors like these.
I bent my knees. The sword gave off a metallic hiss as I drew it from its sheath. To keep from trembling, I tensed every muscle.
At that exact moment, Jarek glanced over his shoulder.
I pushed off the ground and shot forward, straight toward the man holding the woman by the arm.
He turned partly toward me. I swung with the pommel of my sword as both he and his captive widened their eyes.
When I blinked again, Jarek was suddenly standing in front of me. So quiet that I had not heard him. And so fast that I barely managed to wrench my blade around in time. Steel struck steel, and a sharp clang shattered the silence of the night.
The sheer force of his blow sent vibrations through my weapon. I needed both hands to keep the sword from being knocked out of my grip. My palms were rubbed raw and burned like fire.
How could this be? He should not be this strong. And that speed. Was he a…? No, his appearance did not fit. His hair was too dark. Almost as dark as his eyes.
The pressure he put against me made my arms go weak. Little by little, I was forced downward. Despite the added strength coursing through me, I could not overpower him. My pulse roared in my ears.
Damn it.
I deliberately gave way and removed all resistance. Jarek's force met nothing. For the blink of an eye, he tipped forward slightly.
It had been a desperate move, but fortunately it worked.
I pulled my sword back and leapt past him to the side, striking his chest with the pommel.
But at the last instant, he shifted his weight. Instead of his chest, I hit his upper ribs.
A choked gasp escaped his throat. He doubled over and was driven a step back by the blow.
My eyebrows shot up. The glancing hit should not have affected him that much.
Whatever. It worked in my favor.
I did not spare him another thought. In a single heartbeat, I closed the remaining arm lengths to the rest of the group.
By then, both men had drawn their swords as well. One of them attacked me from the side as I lunged forward, but narrowly missed. A rush of air skimmed past my ear, raising goosebumps on my skin.
I swung, aiming to strike the man in front of me with the pommel of my sword as well. But he retreated with the woman in tow and pulled her behind his back, as if trying to shield her from harm. The move made me miss his chin by a hair's breadth.
My heart skipped a beat. A hard kick slammed into my side.
The air was knocked from my lungs. A deep, dull pain tore through my upper body.
I was hurled back several steps, but I managed not to drop my weapon.
The man with the sword attacked again. My arm was too weak to lift my blade in time to defend myself, so I leapt forward instead. Heat surged through me in an instant, and my hands turned slick with sweat.
I just had to free the woman. Somehow. Then she could escape. Winning this fight was not necessary for that.
Jarek and the other swordsman came at me at the same time.
There was no chance to strike back. Every movement went into evading their blows. Jarek's attacks, in particular, were a serious threat. They came faster and with far greater force.
Within a few blinks, I was driven several steps back. Yet toward the end, Jarek's strikes grew heavier, and sweat glinted on his brow.
Was he already tiring? That was not unusual in a fight. My own breathing was audibly rapid, as was that of his companion. But Jarek's gasps were whistling. He was perhaps ten or fifteen years older than I was. Still far too young to be exhausted so quickly.
Suddenly my foot found a spot that gave way under my weight. I lurched sideways and nearly got split in two by Jarek.
Only just did I manage to block his blade with mine. The burning in my palms flared up at once.
I sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. All at once, heat flooded me. So intense that I thought my skin would burn.
No, no! Not now!
My focus shattered, and the warmth drained from my muscles. Yet the sensation of glowing embers on my skin remained. With all my strength, I fought the urge to double over in pain.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the second opponent winding up for a strike.
Lacking the strength to stand my ground against Jarek, I stumbled backward. In doing so, I narrowly avoided the other man's blow.
Sheer luck had spared me from being hit.
Jarek raised his blade to finish me off. My weapon had not slipped from my grasp, but my muscles were shaking violently. I could no longer defend myself like this. There was nothing left I could do.
Wrong, Nova. There is still something you can do!
Now two swords came hurtling toward me at the same time. Jarek aimed for my throat.
In a flash, I lifted my arm, spread my fingers, and cut through the air.
Heat surged down my arm within a fraction of a breath and gathered in my palm.
A high arc of fire flared up and licked through the darkness. Jarek's blade grazed my neck in a horizontal sweep, but then it was yanked back abruptly.
He muttered:
"Impossible!"
The fire died down moments later, yet the air smelled of scorched fabric.
Both Jarek and his ally had instinctively retreated. Even in the moonlight, their skin looked unnaturally pale, their eyes wide.
For a while, black spots danced before my eyes as I struggled for breath.
"Stop!" someone called out in a deep voice.
Small, hurried footsteps approached, and at the edge of my vision I caught a fleeting movement.
Before I could grasp what was happening, someone grabbed my forearm. I flinched and turned my head. To my surprise, it was the woman. She must have torn herself free in the confusion.
She could not have been much older than I was. Perhaps only a few years separated us. Wild, dark curls framed her round face.
"Quick, we have to get out of here!" she urged.
She tugged at me, making me stumble a step backward.
The man who had been holding her only instants ago ran toward us.
I shoved the stranger behind me with one arm. With the other, I held my sword out in front of me.
My skin was still burning, but at least it no longer hurt. It was comparable to the heat of a hot bath.
Jarek raised a hand and ordered:
"Do not attack! Keep your distance!"
The man who had been charging at us stopped short and looked at him with furrowed brows.
The stranger tugged at my arm again and asked:
"What are you waiting for?! Staying here is far too dangerous!"
I nodded my chin toward my unsteady knees and replied hoarsely:
"I cannot run anymore."
She followed the gesture. For a heartbeat, her grip tightened.
"Go without me. I'll hold them off," I whispered in her direction.
She shook her head and released my arm, but remained standing beside me.
Jarek was the only one to step forward. He leveled his sword at me. The man beside him asked in a hushed voice:
"Is she an Arcanist?"
My stomach clenched painfully.
"No, she is definitely human," Jarek replied quietly.
I heard the woman next to me catch her breath.
"That's impossible. She used magic. Humans can't do that," he contradicted Jarek.
The young woman took a few steps toward the edge of the street, putting more distance between us.
Once again, my stomach tightened and nausea rose in me.
Always the same reaction…
Jarek studied me while his jaw tensed.
I drew in a deep breath and held my sword close to my body, the tip of the blade aimed at Jarek. I could not afford to be careless. Any further mistake would cost me my life.
At last, Jarek corrected him:
"No, there is one human who can use magic."
"Damn it," the man beside him muttered.
A short sound escaped Jarek that almost sounded amused. However, neither his mouth curved upward nor did his eyes share in it.
Then he said:
"Standing before us is none other than the legendary Flame Hunter."