Ninte’s heart was pounding so hard, she was half afraid it might beat out of her chest as Nevayi and the two guards ushered her through dark hallways and down winding stone stairs. Engulfed in sounds of muffled fighting raging from both within and outside the manor, they finally reached a small wooden door that gave way to an alley on the side of the enormous house. The clash of weapons rang out louder now that they were out in the open air, and it sounded as though a vicious battle was currently taking place in front of the manor. The guards began to lead them away from the fighting and toward the rear of the house to safety, but they had made it just a few steps before a trio of burly men rounded the corner, spotted them, and froze. Two of the men wielded long battle knives, while the third hoisted a huge axe, different to the ones Ninte had seen the woodsmen use on her way into town. This axe was broad with two heads arching away from one another and glinted in the moonlight.
For a fleeting moment, Ninte felt relieved. Surely they had recognized Nevayi as Lady Ariyon and were here to help protect her. Surely this meant they were at least somewhat safe. But they were not. With a blood-curdling yell, the axe-wielding man raised his weapon and took off at a sprint towards them with his companions close behind. The guards rushed forward valiantly to meet the attackers, but as Ninte watched in horror, the first guard was struck down with a single swing of the leader’s axe. It sliced down in an arc, knocking aside the blade that had been raised in defense and dug into the guard’s neck with a sickening crunch. Blood spurted as he wrenched the axe free and turned to deal with the second guard who was barely holding his own against the two bladesmen.
Ninte, who had been transfixed at the terrible scene unfolding in front of her, found herself suddenly yanked away. Nevayi had gotten hold of her hand and was dragging her away from the men, in the only direction she could: toward the front of the manor and the sounds of furious fighting. She was vaguely aware of Nevayi shouting at her, but the words were not being absorbed by her stunned mind as the image of the guard slumping to his knees, blood gushing from the gash in his neck, replayed over and over in her head.
“We have to get out of here!” Nevayi shouted, her words finally penetrating the fog of shock into Ninte’s consciousness.
Ninte could only nod, her eyes wide with fear and her hand clutching Nevayi’s like a vice. She forced herself to take a deep breath and fought the urge to turn around and look for the men who were surely pursuing them. Before she knew it, they had reached the end of the alley and burst out into the open. Bodies lay strewn across the ground, some with deep gouging wounds gaping up at them and others with arrows sticking out from all directions, giving them the appearance of a morbid pin cushion. Men were fighting all around them, some in groups that clashed together like waves, others in single combat pacing carefully around their opponent before unleashing flurries of blows. Screams of fury and agony surrounded them, calling out from around the square and mixing with the clanging of metal and the crunching and thudding of weapons colliding with flesh in a hellish cacophony of violence.
Ninte stopped abruptly. Recognition overcame her as she looked around at the fighting. She desperately tried to recall her vision. She looked over to Nevayi and just managed to open her mouth when a man tackled the two of them to the ground. The air was driven from her lungs and she lay on her back, gasping for a breath that refused to come as arrows whistled over her. The man clambered to his feet and dragged Nevayi up by the collar of her tunic. For a moment it was as if time slowed down and Ninte watched, waiting for the mother she had just found to be struck down, powerless to help, unable even to move as she wheezed in the mud. To her surprise and relief, the man did not skewer her with the short blade in his hand, instead, he yelled something and pointed at something Ninte could not see. She saw Nevayi turn to her and watched as the man pushed her away before turning and bending over to Ninte himself.
The man had just stopped and put one helping hand on Ninte’s shoulder, gripping a handful of her shirt when a shadow crossed over them followed by a flash of gleaming bronze. The man’s arm toppled down onto her chest, severed just above the elbow, and squirted a fountain of hot blood all over her face. At that moment, she finally found herself able to breathe once more, and inhaled deeply, immediately regretting it. The taste of iron burst into her mouth, and she barely managed to turn to one side and wretch before it filled her lungs. She felt a thud beside her, and when she had wiped the sticky red substance from her eyes, she saw her would-be savior lying motionless next to her, his eyes unfocused and his torso so drenched in red, she couldn’t so much as guess as to which wound had killed him.
A lighter thud next to her head snapped her back into focus, and she looked up to see a tall, thin man raising a spear above her chest. Without even thinking, the world became suddenly doused in silver dust. She saw the glowing strands of the man’s life force and crushed them with her mind. The man fell forward, the spear still falling toward her body. She rolled away and scrambled to her feet, crouching low and looking around, desperately searching for Nevayi, but she was nowhere to be seen.
A shout to her left caught her attention and she saw a group of five men advancing toward her. Two carried spears and wore the uniform she recognized from the city guards, the other three wielded battle knives and wore the ragged clothes of civilians. Rage bubbled up inside of her. She had only just found her real mother, who had promised to take her in as part of her family, and now, here these men were, threatening to take it all away. She wouldn’t let them. She couldn’t let them. She would get back to Nevayi, even if it meant wading through a sea of death to get there.
With a grim expression on her face, Ninte stood up straight and held up her left hand as if she was commanding her attackers to stop. Amazingly, although just for a moment, they did stop. They looked on with confused looks before grins broke out on their filthy faces, and they began their advance once more. Then, the man closest to Ninte, one of the guards, stiffened and dropped his spear. He grabbed at his throat and started sinking to his knees before slumping forward into the dirt. The four men following him stopped again, the grins melted from their faces, replaced with uncertainty as they glanced around at each other. The next man to fall was one of the civilians. He managed to take a step back before he died, but then collapsed into his comrade’s arms in a heap of dead weight. The man who had caught him dropped his weapon, turned, and fled. The remaining two, both charged at her in desperation, before Ninte sent them sprawling, as she effortlessly snapped both of their life strands.
Ninte suddenly noticed that the area around her had grown strangely quiet. Fighting could still be heard in the distance, but the shouts and screams that had been surrounding her had diminished into a restless silence. Looking around, she saw that the men who had been fighting one another had turned to stare in terrified awe in her direction. Some had struck down their opponents before spotting her executions, while others stood side by side with their enemies, stunned into a temporary truce out of fear from this new and seemingly unstoppable foe.
The silence was broken by the one sound Ninte wanted to hear. Nevayi’s voice cut through the square calling out her name. She turned to see her standing between two single-storied buildings, and immediately Ninte began running toward her. Her sudden haste along with Nevayi’s call had flung the men back into action. Some fled, some returned to their fights, but many now turned their attention to Ninte.
One man wearing a butcher’s apron and wielding an enormous meat cleaver appeared in front of her and swung wildly for her head. She just managed to duck under the blow and killed the man in what was becoming far too familiar an act. She could hear the pounding of feet behind her as she sprinted past the wooden statue towering high above in its place at the center of the square. Suddenly, a loud crashing sound emanated from the space behind her followed by a bright flash that illuminated the square in flickering orange light.
Finally, as her legs grew weak and her lungs began to burn, she saw Nevayi rushing toward her. She felt as though she could cry and laugh all at once. Now that she had found Nevayi, she could protect her from the men who sought to hurt them. But Nevayi did not have the same expression of relief on her face, instead, hers was one of panic. The two of them collided, and in a fluid, almost practiced motion, Nevayi spun Ninte around until she was facing the direction from which she’d come and flung her to the floor.
Nevayi jerked forward and her eyes grew wide. Ninte’s heart sank. Clambering to her knees, she reached out and caught Nevayi as she teetered in front of her, lowering her gently to the ground. She glanced up and saw the bodies lying around her, saw maimed men crawling hopelessly away with wounds that would never heal. She looked at the great blazing fire that was devouring the great wooden statue. High above them at the top of the great manor watchtower, the white flag was burning, its flames dancing in the wind. Finally, she looked down at Nevayi and saw the arrow protruding from the side of her neck.
“No,” choked Ninte, her tears flowing freely. “Not now. I’ve just found you.”
Nevayi reached up with one trembling hand and gently wiped a tear from Ninte’s cheek, then spoke in a weak voice, barely louder than a whisper.
“My family has failed the people of this town, but at least I was able to save you, my long-lost daughter.”
“Save your strength, you’re going to be alright. You have to be alright,” said Ninte, cradling Nevayi’s head in her lap. Nevayi smiled sadly, and a single tear began its slow descent down the side of her cheek.
At that moment, the door to one of the small buildings behind them opened and an elderly man hobbled out.
“Come, you’ll be safer in here, quick!” he said and held the door open as Ninte used the last of her strength to drag Nevayi’s body through the doorway and over the threshold into the building.
Once the door was slammed shut and barred with a heavy wooden plank, the old man hurried off and fetched a small pillow, placing it under Nevayi’s neck while Ninte remained by her side, refusing to let go of her hand.
“You must listen, Ninte,” Nevayi said slowly, her voice beginning to slur as if she was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. “Your true father is Teriyas, God of Creation. It was he who violated me all these years ago, possessing the body of an innocent Mano man. I was too afraid to even tell my own husband the truth, but it was Teriyas who caused the banishment of the Inya. That is why, after you were born, Aviliyon and I left you to die in the forest. That is the reason you are who you are, and why you have your powers and visions. Please never forget. All of this, the hate between the Inya people, is his doing, and he will not stop.”
Ninte sat, speechless, staring at her mother in shock. She reached up with one hand and ran her fingers along the bone ridges on her skull.
“And you,” Nevayi mumbled, looking over to the old man who had been standing behind Ninte. “I know your face. You are Teyomon Daster. Once, long before the town of Velniya was founded, you were part of the Circle of Elders. Were you not?”
The man nodded. “Yes. I am Teyomon Daster. One of the elders”
“I know my family and the Circle of Elders have a problematic history, but please believe I am speaking the truth. I beg you, please gather what is left of the Circle of Elders and make them prevent the Inya from destroying themselves entirely,” Nevayi continued. “I have seen in my daughter’s eyes that she will know what to do when the time comes, even if she does not yet realize it herself. Once my body turns cold, and the sun rises. Make sure she is heard.”
Nevayi’s eyes fluttered, and Ninte felt the strength in the woman’s hand dwindle.
“Once again, I abandon you, my child. May Eviyra, Goddess of Beauty, forgive me for my sins.”
And with these words, Nevayi breathed her last breath, and Ninte felt the life fade from her body. Bowing her head low, sobs began to rack her body. She sat next to her mother’s body and wept. She wept and screamed and swore and wept some more until eventually, she felt a gentle hand rest on her shoulder. Turning, she saw the old man, his face stained with tears and grief in his eyes.
“Weep, child,” Teyomon said, his voice shaking. “Weep now for your mother. When the dust from this horrific night settles, I will fulfill her final request. I vow upon the grave of Lady Nevayi Ariyon, I will do everything in my power to save what is left of our people.”
Ninte didn’t say anything. She sat beside Nevayi’s body for hours, sobbing noiselessly into her fallen mother’s chest. Eventually, her tears dried up and her eyes were left dry, bloodshot, and sore. As the night wore on, the sound of the fighting continued and, at first, Ninte felt as though it would never stop. She became so accustomed to the clashing of weapons, the screams of men, and the thudding of bodies dropping to the ground that when the battle finally began to wind down, she felt an uncomfortable sense of trepidation, as if something worse was brewing in its wake. However, her fears seemed to be for naught, and as the final skirmishes faded into the darkness, Ninte felt suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion.