3 Chapter Two: An Unlikely Savior

Chapter 2

Clouds loomed overhead, and a faint drizzle of rain dampened my red cloak. I stumble, almost falling. I couldn't do it, not after he opened his eyes. He hadn't even fought back, and I had smelled no alcohol on his breath. There had only been one other time when I was unwilling to kill. The child was only 5, an innocent Fae child. She wasn't  royal, and yet the child had still managed to enlist a target on her back. I couldn't, within good conscious, kill a child whose only motive was to play tea party. 

Without  justification I couldn't kill a child. I may be a killer, but what kind of twisted soul will kill a child for a few gold coins? The reason the employer gave was something along the lines of the father ripping him off in an important business deal. This appalled me; how could anyone sanction killing a child for the parent's wrong doings? After coming to my senses, I told the employer, only to have him agree and decide to remove her from her family instead. So, I brought her to him- and he killed her before me, as I received the worst beating of my life.

 Now, I needed to run, far away from Eyllon his family and his Goddess forsaken kingdom.. I needed to run so far, nobody knew my language, and I  carved a meager living from some maid's work. Leaping over a fallen tree, my cloak streaming behind like a tattered flag, I stumble to a stop. My disguise. Oh, goddess. I dropped the cloak, deciding that it would be of no further use to me anyways. I would go to my employer, and tell him the deed was done. Then, I would pack my few things and run as far as the realms went. I finally saw the great white mansion, the color so at odds with the foul business discussed here. 

Taking a  deep breath, I slam open the doors and strut inside, not bothering to close them. Lest I want blackmail on my doorstep, it's best I kept up the confident facade. I burst into the employer's office, slinging around the doorframe and into an extremely expensive velvet chair, making it scrape back across the floor all of the way to his desk. I'll bet that left an awful scratch on the floor. Suppressing a snicker, I stare, a cool mask on my face. 

"It's done."

 The man, known as Sadeas to those of us unfortunate enough to meet him, smirked with slimy black hair, and eyes darker than coal. He really did look like the devil.

 "I can see that you have been very successful. I mean, look how dead he is while chatting with his friends here!" He summoned a Portal Screen, which was basically a magic pain in the ass. It showed as Eyllon talked to some guards in a palace corridor. My heartbeat quickened. He knew. I would die here. 

"Now, dearie," He tsked a few times, "You really shouldn't be trying to trick people smarter than you. I remember the little girl, Aven. It was your fault you know." I felt the blood drain from my face, despite my earlier bravado. My hands started to tremble, and I put them under my thighs, hiding the evidence of my fear. Taking a deep breath, I got ready to run.

 "So, Sadeas, what do you want? Gold, innocent children's lives, a misunderstood man's future?" He raised his eyebrows and gave me a humorous look.

 "Dear, I only wish to keep Eyllon from marrying the little brat. You should really know this by now." 

The plan wasn't perfect, but it had to do. I braced myself. "You know what, Sadeas? You are a manipulative, possessive, insane mo-" I bounded out of the chair, crashed through the window, and sprinted for my life. 

It was an hour before his lackeys stopped chasing me and I could settle down for some dearly needed rest. In my haste jumping through the window, I had managed to get a relatively large piece of glass stuck in  my side. Luckily, it didn't pierce the stomach or vital organs, so I should live. Although, without proper healing supplies, it would likely get infected.

I plopped down under a particularly thick pine, laying down on the soft bed of needles. Sleep was fitful and nonexistent, and I awoke before dawn break to a raging fire in my side. I limped to a nearby river, grinding my teeth against the pain.  Now, pulling off my shirt to inspect the wound, I frowned. Already, the edges of the cut were red and puffy, leaking pus and crusty with dried blood. I grimaced, already thinking about how long this would take to heal, if it didn't kill me first. 

Thinking of my imminent doom, I limped back to the tree. In my state, merchants and spinstresses will reject me out of fear of whoever, to them, hurt me. I sat for a long time before my stomach  began to grumble. But, movement was painful, and I have to stay hidden. That left me with one option, survive in the woods. Sadly, 'survive in the woods' was an awful plan when you could barely move, soon to be delirious with fever. I eventually nodded off, and slept for I don't even know how long. 

I woke to someone shaking me. I opened my eyes blearily, my head spinning. The fever was in full effect now. I tried to say something, but my throat was so dry it comes as a raspy whisper. A canteen was pressed into my mouth, and I managed to take a few great gulps of water before it was removed. I nearly nodded off again, but whoever it was shakes me again. This time, I managed to say something. "St-stomach." I opened my eyes again, and this time they focus. It was a human man, with hair the color of a crackling flame with freckles gracing his nose and cheekbones. He was a bit pale, and isn't a brick of muscle like most men, although he certainly has muscle. His steel eyes widen showcasing a metallic storm, and he pulls me away from the tree to lay me out. Soon, he has my shirt pulled up, and is inspecting the wound. Laying still, I accept the help, biting down my fear at being so vulnerable.

"Damn, that's not good..." this guy was practically a parrot, and a very grim one at that. Standing from his crouched position he seems lost in thought for a few seconds. Apparently deciding the best course of action, he reaches down to pull my arms across his shoulders, supporting most of my weight.

"The way I see it we go anywhere with you like this we get arrested for suspicious activity. The palace is getting antsy doubling guards and such. Almost as if their searching for someone, but don't want the public to know." I merely nodded my head, too lost to really comprehend what he was telling me.

Hobbling along the forest for hours, I watch the sunset beyond the trees. Not long after, we come upon a gravel road leading to a town.

 Presumably.

 Limping down that road, I felt myself floating away on a cloud, blinking longer and longer. I forced myself to stay conscious, lest I be caught even more vulnerable.

Walking up to an inn, I studied it. The warm texture of the wood and the soft lighting gave off the impression of a welcoming home. Still braced on his shoulders, I walked in through the door. Luckily enough for us, the inn was crowded with patrons drinking after a days work, complete with a few young suitors hunting for someone to warm their beds. Walking past the rambunctious crowd we come upon the innkeeper.

"1 want a room and a woman well versed in healing, if available." 

Hearing him speak to the man behind the counter snapped me mostly out of my dazed stupor. He handed us a key and says he'd send someone up to help when he can. We nod and thank him, somewhat drowsily on my side. Seeing the stairs I felt my vision start to tunnel, imagining the pain of trudging up the steep staircase. Turns out I needn't have worried as we reach the base and I ready myself to climb, the stranger picks me up, cradling me against his body, and quickly climbs the stairs. After reaching the room, my eyes droop far too much for me to notice anything beyond the one bed and a giant  cobblestone fireplace.

Collapsing on the bed, I close my eyes hoping for a bit of rest. Just a small rest, I tell myself. Next thing I know, someone has my shoulders, shaking me awake from my light sleep. Acting on instinct, I launch off the bed into a defensive crouching position, the dagger from my boot clenched in my fingers and ready to draw blood.

The guy jumps back, hands up in the universal sign of surrender. "Woah there, the innkeeper's wife is here to patch you up." I slowly stand, tucking the dagger in my boot and blankly stare at the stranger. "Well, since you asked so nicely, I'm Gavin and you must be...?" Looking at him I ponder the question, deceivingly simple. However, names have power. Finally deciding if he wanted to kill me he would have already, I tentatively answer.

"Aven." He nods his head like me almost attacking him wasn't anything unusual. I scanned the room, my eyes darting to and fro. A woman stood in the corner of the room, looking frightened by me, and I internally groan, cursing myself. Instead of turning and fleeing like any sane person she walks closer and holds out her hand.

"Hi Aven, I'm Emily.. mind if I take a look at your wound?" I fleetingly wonder how she knows. Looking down, I see a red splotch of blood on my side, slowly soaking through my blouse. 

"Oh." 

I nod and move to the bed, feeling like an idiot. She grabs a deerskin bag and commands me to lay down. Gavin gallantly turns, and she peels off my blouse. I was surprised he was giving me privacy, although at this point I'm too far gone to care. She pours alcohol on the wound, clearing it of infection, and begins to stitch me back together. Exhausted from the day's adventures, I pass out completely oblivious to my surroundings or the foolishness of being so vulnerable.