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I am not my brother, willing to kill at the slightest inconvenience. There is an art and a place for killing, and he lacks any knowledge of the nuance of it.
Running my hand over the dagger hilt in my holster, I imagine driving it inches from Brielle’s neck, forcing her to watch its silver sheen as I move in to kiss her supple red lips. I imagine tearing her clothing free from her body with its blade and leaving cuts in her flesh where I most want to lick her.
I move to the edge of the gate, looking out at Lowtown, the sky growing dark.
Brielle is nowhere to be seen, and it’s allhisfault.
I consider approaching Lowtown anyway but shake my head.
I’ve attracted enough of my brother’s ire for today, I think.
I clench my fists. My day is once again ruined by the prying and insecure attention of my brother.
For a moment, I wonder what my life would have been like had he never been birthed, before remembering that there was a time when I cherished his presence.
I swallow my crushing disappointment.
Tomorrow will be a better day.
I can feel anticipation building within me, thinking of all the plans I have for the girl. All the traps and trinkets I still plan to leave for her.
I turn back around to head toward my townhome, unable to count all the schemes that now fill my head.
A wicked smile crosses my face, followed by a wry chuckle.
6
BRIELLE
Agiant rock hive stands ahead of me, lingering under the bright forest sky. I stand at the bottom of a deep, forested ravine, several patches of white weeds intercut into a crystalline meadow thirty feet away.
I’ve been tasked with finding fylvek grass and bringing it back to Lowtown. Our stock has run out, and an increasing number of burn victims are showing up, the unfortunate recipients of fire spells which have mysteriously gone haywire.
Since I’ve somehow been granted another day off, I volunteered to make this trek.
I’m starting to think maybe I imagined it all. It’s been several days since I found the jewelry, tucked strangely into the forest for me to find. Since then, it has been quiet.
“Can you just give me a sign?” I mutter to nobody in particular – or perhaps to somebody.
I look around me to see nothing, save for the rock-like cracking of the creatures in the hive which are responsible for this meadow.
Taking the chain bracelet in my hand, I run my fingers over the intersecting and interlocking metal then touch the jewels in its sockets, which mirror the emerald forest around me and the pristine and vacant blue sky above me. I wonder if I dreamed of finding these. I wonder if it was an elaborate fantasy I conjured up to entertain my imagination.
Or perhaps I wandered into the effects of an elven spell, gone awry? I’ve heard of spells that could distort the mind and even create memories of events that never happened.
I sigh, stepping forward into the meadow and nearly trampling on a patch of crystallized tagetes.
My heart leaps, and I stand motionless, stray grass crushing gently under my feet. I can still hear the crashing and cracking of the creatures inside the hive. The abrasive noises together form a chorus that resembles the buzzing of apis.
I have to move before they convert this grass, too.
I crawl one step, then another, all the while monitoring the large rock hive ahead of me. I can see the fylvek grass just ahead, and I haven’t yet alerted these creatures to my presence.
Reaching out, my eyes never leaving the hive, I tug on the medicinal weeds ahead of me, retrieving them individually. They pull out of the ground with a satisfying crunch.
Eventually, as I pull one clump, then another, I ponder why these creatures were ever a source of concern. They must be sleeping.
After retrieving as much as I can carry and placing the grass in a satchel, I trample out of the meadow with a little less cautiousness.
