In a heartbeat, she is back in that wagon.
Memories drag her back by her hair to the night her father sold her for a single copper.
“It’ll feed your brothers. At least they’re useful,” he’d said, his eyes never meeting hers. She understands now—he was never a father. Just a man who took her in. Likely for no more than a coin or two.
Memories claw at her, pulling at her leathers, her cloak, just as the man at the wagons did.
Elyssara’s hand finds the small of Seren’s back, tender and caring, as if she can see through the armor and resolve to the little girl that still lives within.
But Seren shrugs her away.
“Sounds great,” she grits out, already unsheathing a small blade from her thigh.
“We need to get them out safely,” Lara says simply. “All of them. And the men running it are not to see another sunrise—no survivors.” Her voice drops low and cold.
A pause.
Then Lara’s eyes settle on Seren.
“Do you have the guts for The Dreaded, witch?”
The words land heavier than they should.
That’s her question.
Seren feels it settle into her bones, into the marrow of her being, into the place that has been shaped and reshaped by every test she has endured to get here.
Do you have the guts?
She already knows the answer. She just hasn’t proven it yet.
Her answer is immediate.
“Yes.”
No hesitation. No doubt.
“I’ll take pleasure in it,” Seren adds, her words a sharpened blade.
Lara watches her for a moment longer, then nods once.
“We’ll see. Violence is always appealing from a distance. But up close, women rarely have the stomach for it.”
Seren turns before anything else can be said, already reaching for the threads of magic that will tear open another path.
“Elyssara,” she calls out, glancing over her shoulder.
Elyssara is already watching her. Steady. Something has shifted in her too. Seren can see it now, even if she doesn’t understand it yet.
“I’ll come back,” Seren says with certainty.
Elyssara nods once.
“Go. Kill every last one of those fucking bastards.” No argument. No hesitation. Just a woman who’s made peace with the cost of surviving this godsforsaken realm.
Seren turns back to the space in front of her, magic already gathering in her palm, reality thinning beneath her will.
Behind her, she feels it?—
