Page 129 of Forged in Fading

“He had no other choice…”

Humans behind them chattered, smothering her ability to breathe.

“Does the chief know…”

Every whisper sounded like a shout, every breath like thunder.

The incessant pounding of her heart only pushed her closer toward the edge, her toes dangling over a cliff that dared her to jump. Begged her to jump.

Erun reached out toward Alvara.

Those fingers, the very same ones that had plunged that cursed blade into the beating heart of the last member of her family, dangled just a few hair’s breadths away from her frigid body.

Until that fool, that murderous fool, laid his vile hand on Alvara’s shoulder.

Her magic—the imprisoned horror of her grief—erupted.

Blood flowed like wine from the glittering dagger embedded in Erun’s chest, a perfect replica of the one that had killed her father. Time stood still, the man’s face fixed in everlasting agony, his guttural scream searing into her mind.

No, she hadn’t meant to…gods, but hadn’t she wanted to? But no sweet release came, no freedom from her heartache that she had so desperately desired. Not even as her father’s murderer collapsed in a pool of his own blood, and panicked shouts pounded relentlessly into her ears.

Boden grabbed Alvara’s arm and ripped her away, but not far enough. Never far enough. She could still see the crimson river winding a gruesome path from the man she had killed, would see it every day in her mind’s eye for the rest of her worthless life.

Blood. The blood oath. The chief’s brother. Erun was the chief’s brother. Oh gods, she was going to be sick.

Her vision clouded with tears, blurring the outline of Erun’s body. The other humans were lifting him now, carrying him into the town and displaying her rampage for all to see.

His son. Erun’s son.

Alvara sank to the ground, every muscle in her body quivering. That poor boy had lost everything and just begun to have it back, and she had stolen his father away from him again. For good.

“You weren’t able to do it.”

Boden slumped above her, his body as limp as the man she just killed.

“Do what?” she whispered.

“Move on, Alvara!” The earth rumbled underneath them. “See past your grief. See anything other than how fate has wronged you!”

“He killed my father⁠—”

“No, he didn’t. King Einar did. You know it as well as I do. You don’t think I wanted to hurt him every single second I spent at his side? Of course I did. But I knew that countless lives depended on me keeping his trust.” Boden stared at her hand, the one that bore a scar from the chief’s blade the day they entered the human lands, and lowered his voice. “You took an oath for all of our people, our only hope to help the humans survive the king’s plans, and you threw it all away because you’re still blinded by your godsdamned grief. Blind to the consequences of your actions and the pain of others around you.”

His words stung, uncovering seeds of truth she didn’t have the strength to face.

“Are elven lives worth nothing to you?” she hissed. “You give everything for your precious humans and half-breeds, but what about us?”

He recoiled as if she had slapped him, but it did nothing to slow her down. Alvara wanted to wound him, deeper than metal could ever cut. She wanted someone to feel the pain that followed her around every second of every day, no matter how hard she tried to escape it.

“He murdered my father, Boden! And you know what? You’re wrong. I can see your pain clearly. I just don’t give a shit.”

Boden let out a bitter laugh. “We both know the scars on your back say otherwise.” He picked up her spear and stared at it, his jaw tight. “Would you like to know what I think, Alvara?” His voice had gone cold, cold enough to bleed the warmth of the sun itself dry. “I think it’s easier to lie to yourself and say you don’t care. Believe me, it’s so much easier to tell yourself that you’re happier alone, that it’s the way your life was meant to be, because the truth is so much more difficult to face.” When he met her gaze, she forced herself to stare back into the anger and pain that awaited her, no matter how much she wanted to look away. “You’re so damn intent on driving me away, so I’ll finally give you what you’ve convinced yourself you want.” Her spear landed on the ground at her feet. “Congratulations, Alvara. You’re alone.”

Boden heaved a single breath, straightened his back like a metal rod, and left.

Left Alvara with blood, eternal blood, stained on her hands.

Arms wrenched behind her back and a blade at her throat, Alvara trudged numbly toward the town square. Humans and even a few elves had gathered around the platform in the center. Brave, after what she had done.