Amiero's Shadows by Andrei-Ion Ghircoiaș

A battle-worn knight hunts the local master of the seductive shadow-beings that have consumed the souls of entire villages.

Image generated with OpenAI
Getting used to such sights never happened, not even after seeing them countless times. Amiero couldn't shake the sorrow off his bones, like standing by the grave of an old friend. Long, narrow streets of cobbled stones, accustomed to the din of crowds, suddenly quiet. Windows once reflecting the comforting light from inside now stood open to reveal the darkness the rooms drowned in. Shadows swirled around the house corners where the moon's light couldn't find them, like thieves waiting for the city guard to pass.

The air flowed like a destitute nobleman, robbed of the strands of conversations from friends walking side by side, the curses and laughter of drunkards searching for their home, and the sounds of lovemaking. All it had to offer... was nothing.

A gust of cool wind brushed over his face, the only thing he hadn't encased in that cocoon of an armor his body wore. Plates and mail forming a defense like the walls of a fortress, carrying the scars of failed sieges upon their metal skin.

The village was neither small nor suffocating. A frozen corpse of wood and stone, with the castle looming over it like a haughty beast atop its hill. The shadows were thicker up there, telling him that was the source he needed to banish.

Amiero pulled out his white raven medallion and murmured a prayer for the departed, hoping his words would serve as lights for the gods to find them. To rescue them from the darkness they now drowned in. Victims of the invasion, with the village serving as another battlefield in this war. A war the church claimed they were winning. But to this day, Amiero hadn't rescued anything more than just empty buildings.

Wherever he looked, homes had their doors open as if to make the finality waiting inside more appealing. Curiosity would drive some to enter, only to find themselves caught in a trap they couldn't escape, like a bee in a black widow's web. But that wasn't the only trick the monsters knew.

The wooden floor of one such home creaked as naked feet slapped against it. A slow and smooth cadence getting closer to the door, as if there was no reason to rush. Then a woman appeared on its threshold.

One of them.

A pretty thing with a willowy frame. Green eyes chosen for how well they fit with her pale skin and hair like a black waterfall. They knew how to present themselves in ways that disarmed, either with seeming innocence or sheer beauty. She'd chosen an almost see-through nightgown, revealing nothing else covering her skin. A flicker of emotion passed over her eyes, as if she'd recognized him but wished to hide it.

"Out so late?" she teased. "No woman to come home to? Or has one pissed you so that you had to take a long walk to clear your head, and ended up here?"

He chuckled. Teachers had warned him of their ways, but it felt like sin not to give appreciation for decent wit. "Perhaps I simply enjoy the air."

"Air..." she scoffed with a dismissive gesture. More otherworldly pairs of eyes watched from nearby houses, but he ignored them. They were as much spectator as he was. "There's no good air around these plains. The only thing we have worth mentioning is that ugly castle... You want good air, you head north to Solyenberg. Heard the mountains are capped with snow this time of year."

He was going to reply, but she didn't give him the chance.

"Why stand there when you can come inside and peel off that armor? I can brew us some coffee whilst you tell me all about your conquests."

"Thank you," he said genuinely, "but we both know why I'm here and why I won't take your offer, kind as it appears to be."

That should've been enough. Such a firm refusal shattered their confidence and sent them back into the houses they had encroached upon. But she didn't. Instead, her features showed no disappointment or anger like he'd seen in the others. It showed sorrow, as if dealing with a loved one too far gone.

Amiero didn't reach for the sword when she approached. Inside was their domain, but outside was his. That's why they tried so hard to lure their victims in.

The aroma of honeysuckle wafted from her, yet another proof she wasn't human. So many of these creatures reeked of it that the city-states had banned any perfumes even resembling the smell. A shame...

She reached out to cup his cheek, but Amiero didn't intercept her hand. She posed no threat as long as he wouldn't give in. And he never gave in.

"Are you certain?" she asked softly, a voice that bore no tricks. He could see her face better now, a beauty which poets would step over one another to immortalize in their stanzas. Not because of the color of her eyes or the lushness of her lips. Those were common in certain parts of the world; especially southern city-states, like Semfreyia or Tarkmeyia, had women of such fey-like beauty. No, it was because of the intensity of her gaze. Burning with what he could only describe as otherworldly fire.

It brought back the warnings from his teachers. Warnings of how beguiling or charming these creatures could be. Nobody knew what they were or from where they'd come from, but human wasn't one of their traits. So went the rumors. None had managed to bring one to the scholars for study, and not for lack of trying.

The common folk thought knights like him were sent to kill them. To stop these monsters with their swords and maces from taking other people away to a place they never returned from. But the truth was that common weapons only inconvenienced them. Killing them only made them reappear later. But banishment made them go away forever. Amiero didn't know why and didn't care. What mattered was that the priests had found a way to stop their invasion. So they claimed.

"No." He found it strange how easy it was to talk to them. His own kin kept him at a distance, as if he were drenched in filth or ridden with plague. But he couldn't blame them. Dealing with monsters rarely left one untouched. Some cuts passed harmlessly through skin only to wound the soul.

These monsters understood him as if they could see past the layer of skin and bone. They knew he was their enemy, sent to close their door to this realm. But they didn't regard him with revulsion, not even when they tried to stop him from banishing them. They truly were cunning...

"I wish I could take your offer," he went on. "But we both know that warmth would only be fleeting, before darkness claims me."

"How do you know?" She wrapped her arms around his neck, their lips close to touching. Her breath smelled of wine and forest fruit. "You've never tried it. There is no pain there, no sorrow. It would be us, happy. Don't you want to be happy? You can't tell me this is what makes your heart skip with joy." She nodded toward the shadows swirling around the castle. "This... hunt you've been on."

Happy, a feeling neither foreign nor forgotten. Simply... rare, like a festival once a year to bring color to a grey place.

"Try?" he echoed her words, but didn't pull away. "You say it as if I can go to this place and return anytime I desire. Is that so?"

The woman said nothing, only looking at him with her wide eyes. With that strange power burning behind them that couldn't come from his world. And when she moved his hands to settle just below her waist, Amiero knew she wanted nothing more than to make him forget this question.

"I see." He closed the remaining gap and kissed her. A pleasure savored gently, but she soon poured passion onto it.

A tremendous sin, Amiero knew that. Something which might cost him more than his title. But he was human, despite how the common folk saw him or what they said about him. He was human, and had been longing for the pleasure of such a sensation. He knew he could purchase it, and cheaply so, thanks to the generosity of how his faith rewarded his service. But he didn't wish to experience that coldness anymore. That... disgust.

But it wasn't so bad, for he never lost his senses. Terrible sin, yes, but he never entertained the offers to join them inside. He could always pull away and say no. Always.

"Thank you for this tenderness," he said, pulling back. "But I have a duty to pursue." Amiero turned to leave, but she grabbed his hand.

"Please? We both know you will give in eventually. None of you can fully resist till the end, no matter how stubborn you may be. So why fall to others when you can accept me, like I have already accepted you? Why not stay with me, my knight?"

Pretty words like these had swayed many to follow these creatures. Rare were the times when he found signs of a struggle. Blood, broken furniture... The church claimed no knights had given in, instead reaching peaceful retirement. But Amiero had never met one such brother or sister, and it shamed him to admit he'd pondered this more times than he should've.

"I am not your knight." And with that, he freed his hand and resumed his pace toward the castle. He didn't glance back. Not out of hate, but because he feared his pace might lose momentum or even come to a halt.

He had to steel himself. Had to remember that for them, knights were just a trophy to be displayed, if they could get one. The church claimed it had learned this from one who had arrogantly shared their cruel nature before being banished.

Passing through the empty streets, Amiero desperately prayed for one of his own to still be alive. But the village had no such song of life to share with him. Not even the crickets sang their comforting tune anymore.

In the distance, something white flew until disappearing inside a house. A trick of the eye, most likely. Sometimes, he'd find a stray cat or dog and their eyes met in a rare moment of understanding, where the surrounding horrors bridged the differences between their kinds. A look telling him he wasn't alone. A brief moment, before they fled through the husk of wood and cobbled stone. Where the wind swung the open windows like a dead child rocked by a mother who refused to accept the truth.

And yet, like an answer to his prayer, a stray soul appeared from one alley. Her scuttling little feet had given her presence away before his eyes found her. A small thing, with an adorable grey dress slightly too long for her. Hair the dark of an onyx, and face as if sculpted from innocence herself. A child of the village, a survivor who'd finally found her hero to take her away from the madness of this place. A story Amiero wanted to believe.

She waved for him to crouch to her level. Instinct told him to keep going and put as much distance between himself and this new trickery attempt. But he couldn't. He couldn't because his heart wanted to believe this was real. That this was a child in need of help. That he could finally rescue a soul, instead of just liberating cold wood and stone.

"Hello, little one," he said softly as he came to her level, speaking like a father who could make the bad storm go away. "You're the only one left?"

She nodded before pointing to her throat and shaking her head.

"You can't talk."

She nodded again and lowered her gaze as if it was something to be ashamed of. His instinct again told him to leave, but instead, he placed a reassuring hand on her small shoulder.

"It's alright. That's nothing to be sorry for." It seemed his words wiped away some of her sorrow. "You managed to avoid the monsters?"

There were far better questions to ask, he knew. But they'd risk shattering the illusion he so desperately clung to. He prayed that this child was genuine. Amiero had never faced a monster in a child's form, and prayed he'd never get to witness such a horrible sight.

The girl nodded and pointed to one of the houses.

"That's where you hid."

She raised a finger toward the roof, then placed both her hands over her mouth.

"You sat quietly in the attic so they wouldn't hear you. Clever."

A shy smile appeared on her face as she nodded. Her explanation only brought more questions. How did she stay hidden when any home invaded by those things became their domain? Where did she find food and water when the village seemed to have none?

Amiero pushed them away, without ignoring them. Instead, he reached inside his backpack and fished out a straw doll of a kitten. Something he'd found on a previous mission, the only thing left before he'd banished the monster away. He didn't know why he'd kept it. Maybe to remember the boy who could no longer play with it? Maybe for this moment? He gave it one last look before offering it to her.

The girl pulled it to her small chest and squeezed as if embracing a lost friend. She then hugged him. And even though it had been too long since he'd been graced with such warmth, Amiero didn't pause in returning it.

He could hear her small heart beating as she held onto him. As if he were the raft she clung to whilst lost on the open sea. Amiero didn't know if the monsters had hearts in the physical sense, but figuratively, he was certain they didn't.

She then tugged at one of his hands, trying to get him to follow her. He asked where to, thinking the poor girl wanted to take him away from this rotten carcass of a village. As if she wanted to rescue him. But when she pointed to the same house again, he sighed and got up.

The illusion had finally shattered.

The little girl, who was not a girl, looked at him with confusion, a sight that would've melted his heart. But Amiero took great pains to harden it.

"It was a good game," he said bitterly. "I hope you take pride in knowing I almost fell for it."

The girl, he still couldn't call her anything but that, recoiled, frightened by the sudden change in him.

"But don't worry. You won't be trapped here forever. Once I banish your master, you should disappear as well," he said, walking toward the castle. "If not, we'll deal with that."

Usually the stragglers, if there were any, wouldn't even put up a fight. With their connection to their master severed, they had little vigor to defend themselves. The few that fought back did so more out of arrogance than anything else - as if holding on to a mockery of honor.

Grey walls surrounded the raised portcullis, like faithful hounds refusing to move away from their master's corpse. A poignant smile curled his lips as he remembered the nights staring past his window, watching the soldiers' torches moving along the length of the city walls. Like armored fireflies refusing to let the shadows engulf them. But sometimes one would sputter and die.

Walls of a simple castle back then. Now, knights like him carried the torches, and it made him wonder how long his flame would last. How long until his patrol along the walls of humanity would come to an end?

He heard shuffling behind him. The girl had decided to follow, going from bush to bush to keep herself hidden. A good attempt, if one were to ignore the sound she made as she moved from one spot to the other.

Amiero pushed forward, thoughts still swirling. The castle courtyard stood empty with its green and trees untouched by the plague spreading across the world's skin. Like a still painting that might serve as the picture of his kin. If he failed.

Since he was little, the church had insisted the banishments would come to an end. Words parroted for decades, but Amiero continued to believe them. He just didn't know if it would be because the monsters would have no more doors to step through, or if there were no more people to close them.

He reached inside his backpack and pulled out a small bottle with the white raven symbol of his faith. A mixture of blessed water and oil smelling of chamomile, lavender, and some other things. Only one, for he didn't need more for the master.

He poured it over himself, allowing its protective power to course through the armor. The last drops he drank, to ensure the creatures couldn't just pull him to their realm. A protection lasting for a time, but enough for him to dispatch the master. And with the defense of his spirit and body secured, Amiero pushed the keep doors open.

Stale air wafted past him. The great hall stood as a silent testament to loving craftsmanship, with marble pillars towering over him and shouldering the weight of the ceiling like dutiful soldiers. Dust had fallen over the long wooden table and chairs. Details he could see thanks to the moonlight peering through the double glass windows overlooking the empty thrones of the lord and lady. And it also showed he wasn't the only one inside.

A thin man wearing a black leather doublet embroidered with golden thread motifs. Strapped to his waist, a warhammer served as his means of protection, handle gently tapping against the breeches of a similar color to his top. Amiero reckoned he was either the lord or the castellan, or at least a decent imitation of one. And like with the woman, a strange fire burned in the man's eyes.

"Greetings," he said affably as if welcoming an old friend. "May I ask what wind brings you to our small fortress, fellow knight?"

While outside the creatures were as intimidating as kittens, inside their dens, they were like lions. And they loved to play the role of who they masqueraded as. A monster in soldier clothing would likely be gruff, whilst one wearing the fine clothes of noble courtiers would have their words coated with false politeness. It was a game they played for reasons Amiero didn't understand, but if he desired not to tire himself before banishing their master, he had to play along.

"A holy mission brought me here," Amiero said with feigned pompousness. "The master of this castle chokes the life out of this land, and I am tasked with putting an end to it."

The castellan nodded as if Amiero had just discussed the weather. "Dreadful business that. You will find the lady waiting in the solar upstairs. However, I must ask that you temporarily relinquish your sword before I can arrange this meeting."

A request that didn't surprise him. These creatures found different excuses to rob him of his defense, but sometimes Amiero played his role so masterfully, they begrudgingly let him pass with the weapon still in his possession.

"I'm afraid I cannot, for the blade bestowed upon me is a symbol of my station," he said, struggling to keep up the facade. "To relinquish it even for a moment would be an insult toward our gods."

"I understand," the castellan's lips smiled, but his eyes didn't. His hand casually fell on the hilt of his warhammer as if it had just decided to rest there. "But unfortunately, I am a slave to the rules governing this castle. Which is why I must insist that they be followed without exception."

But sometimes, he couldn't.

"I see." He dropped the facade and allowed the honesty of his blade to speak for him, a language he liked better. The sword swung in an upward slash that would have severed one of the castellan's eyes, but the creature's unnatural speed kept his face intact, jumping back at the last moment and unsheathing his own weapon. Amiero quickly followed.

Sword and warhammer clashed in a duel of metal that echoed across the hall. Instruments of war imbued with the spirit of their wielder. Amiero fought with the calm confidence that had blossomed from countless battles, whilst the castellan retaliated with the hate pouring from its diseased soul. A struggle with a clear favorite, which forced the monster to resort to dirty tactics.

Curses and taunts fell like hail aimed at Amiero's spirit, but each pinged off him like wooden bolts against an iron wall. Desperation swelled in the creature's eyes, robbing the monster's swings and side-steps of their confidence, culminating in one fatal mistake.

Blood sprayed on the floor as the sword found its first victory. The monster recoiled, hand clasped over the ugly gash that a moment ago had been an eye. But it didn't get to push through the pain and continue the duel, for Amiero advanced and thrust.

The monster gasped as the sword plunged into its chest. A moment later, his body struck the floor with a loud thud, blood beginning to pool underneath him.

Amiero watched as the corpse shriveled into a boneless husk before transforming into shadows that seeped through the floor. He looked around, but with no other creature in sight waiting for its turn, he made his way upstairs.

The solar needed no torch to reveal its contents, for someone had lit the fireplace, wood cracking peacefully as if no threat loomed inside. Its light spilled over the furniture of the wide room, revealing desks and chairs and bookcases with dusty tomes. But his focus was pulled toward the shrine on top of one of the tables. A statue of his god, standing proud like a pillar of hope, but shadows seeped from its eyes and mouth and ears, spilling over the floor like a poisonous waterfall. The source of this disease. Amiero steeled himself, preparing for the inevitable battle about to come.

"Took you long enough."

He turned to find the same woman from before, lounging on the bed. The smile on her face revealed how much she relished his shock. "You..."

She got off and stretched, letting out a soft gasp of pleasure. He hated how much he liked that sound. She had traded her gown for a corset and stockings.

"Me," she winked.

"You took a risk back there," he said, tightening his grip on his sword. "I could've easily banished you."

She shrugged nonchalantly as she approached, and before Amiero could react, she draped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her lips on his. She kissed him as if he were her lover. A sensation and sweetness so strong it clouded his mind, but the image of the desecrated shrine flashed before his closed eyes, and it gave him the strength to push her away.

"How?" he gasped. "How did you...?"

She cackled. "Oh, is my poor knight really that surprised?"

"I am not your knight. Now answer the question!"

She rolled her eyes, smirking. "Did you really think a perfumed concoction would keep us away? Oh, you poor, poor man. How little you know of your foe."

She had to be lying. How else could he have done the past banishments? How else could he have entered the invaded homes without being taken away the moment he made the first step?

"It was all in your head," she said, as if reading his thoughts. "Must be hard carrying so many falsehoods for decades, isn't it?"

"It doesn't matter," he snapped, words more for him than her.

But it did, a lot. So much so that doubt rose to the surface, pulling others like it along. Older ones he'd cast down a long time ago and thought dead. Their cold weight made him nauseous, and sent his heart into a flutter.

He tried shifting his mind away by focusing on the shrine, on the banishment. Amiero glanced at her, but she didn't try to stop him, only smirking back. This wasn't normal! Nothing was anymore. All the other masters had attacked the moment they'd laid eyes on him. So why wasn't she?

Again, he tried to shift his focus back to the familiar by retrieving the needed tools from his backpack. Five crosses shaped like swords and a hammer, but before he could arrange them in the required pentagram, something soft and black smacked him across the face, reeking of honeysuckle perfume. From the fabric and her cackling, he realized it was her undergarments even before laying eyes on them. He was getting distracted. Too distracted, but he threw them away without a word, continuing with the ritual as if nothing had happened.

"How many more lies do you think they've told you?"

A question in tune with his thoughts, but he didn't answer. Instead, he crouched to place the first cross, making sure its tip faced the ceiling.

"Don't want to know or just being stoic? I guess it's to be expected from the longest serving knight."

He paused for a moment before continuing to hammer in the second cross. "I doubt I am."

"Oh? For how long have you served again? Two decades? None have lasted that long. They fell just like you will eventually. The last defense of your kind before we sweep through this land."

"You won't win," he said stubbornly. "You are a disease, not inevitability. And like every plague, many succumb to it, but the few it cannot touch live to rebuild."

"And you think you are immune?"

"I am the longest serving knight, am I not?"

She crouched next to him, her smile rueful. "Gods, you are stubborn."

"Gods?" he bristled. "Don't speak as if you have them. No god would cast its light over you."

"So certain..." Her eyes seemed genuinely hurt. "How little you know of your foe."

"And how cryptic you choose to be."

She stood between him and the door, like a lioness cornering her meal. But still she didn't attack. Why? Why was she letting him continue?

"The world doesn't owe you an explanation simply because you can't make sense of your life without it," she said like a sage offering unwanted wisdom.

The fourth cross fell into place. "True. We don't need to know why the storm comes, only that it will eventually pass."

She had no reply for that, only watching as the final part of the ritual fell into place. The shadowy waterfall froze. Then, slowly, it began to vanish. Once it disappeared completely, he had to utter the right words and she would be banished forever. Enough time for her to fight back and stop it. So why wasn't she?

She took his hands and placed them on her cheeks. Amiero realized with horror his gauntlets were missing. He didn't know when she'd removed them.

"When was the last time you touched the skin of a woman who loved you?" she asked sweetly.

"You don't love me." He hated how he wanted to hear her speak more, instead of snapping her neck. "I am but a prize to you."

"Like you've been for all those women who shared their beds because of your station or purse? Who slept with the novelty of a knight, instead of the man behind the armor?" She shook her head. "I know you, Amiero Fhermeera. Since you swore your oath and raised that sword, I thought you an arrogant boy off to be plucked away by my kin. But you fought us without hate. You played our games and heard us, even though you didn't listen. And you're a damned fool!"

He blinked at the sudden change in her tone.

"Your people," she spat, "treat you like a mangy mutt, but you still defend their village. They curse and spit on you, but you still protect their thresholds without even a growl." She caressed his cheek, eyes filled with sorrow. "You think they left no mark, but I can see so many scars and open wounds. How long until they fester and spread their poison, my knight?"

Amiero looked away, toward the disappearing shadows. It wouldn't be long until he had to say the banishment prayer. Precious few seconds which if missed would mean she'd disappear, only to return in another place. He couldn't allow that...

Her hand moved his head so their gazes met again, as if forcing him to face the truth he avoided. And he could see it in her eyes, in that strange intensity burning like the guiding fire of a lighthouse in darkness.

He saw what she saw. A ruin of a man still standing by weakening will. Brittle armor covering scars and wounds seeping blood. He saw the trudging he'd done and would continue to do from one mission to another, again and again. He felt bags of cold coins that refused to warm him. He saw faces looking at him with disgust and children peering through their mothers' skirts as if looking at the monster from their nightmares. And he saw the towns and villages freed from shadows, but without even one soul rescued. Next to the graveyard of all his brothers and sisters, each one younger than him. Memories of the past and certainties of the future, crashing into him like a sweeping wave.

She hadn't lied. She, the woman who was not a woman, could've stopped him, but hadn't. Could kill him now, but instead she held him and allowed her warmth to seep into him, and close some of his wounds.

No pain, no sorrow. Only happiness. That's what she promised. Was that bad? Was considering a different path bad? Or was it what a human would do? For that was what he was. He couldn't be the monster hunting monsters that his kin wanted him to be. He couldn't be steel like his church demanded. Those lies couldn't protect him anymore.

She was an escape. And he was truly considering it.

"What's stopping you?" she asked, her voice in unison with the one in his mind. Words challenging him as he struggled to hold on to duty. What for? Not even the girl was one of his, so what more hope could he grasp for? The longest serving knight, her words echoed in his mind. Would there be more like him? Was he the exception?

"You will die, Amiero. If you keep on this path, you will be claimed by one who truly sees you as nothing more than a prize. A conquest gathering dust on a shelf. I don't want that, not for you." She noticed the shadows on the altar had vanished. "Your kin treats good men like rags." She pierced him with her gaze. "That's where our folk differ."

Amiero felt a shiver as the warmth suddenly vanished, reminding him why he was here. He had to say the prayer now or she'd escape. But the words didn't reach his throat in time. And when they finally did, they failed to escape, for she sealed his lips with hers. A tender kiss like a goodbye, and it pushed the words into oblivion. She pressed her forehead against his and took a deep breath, as if to never forget his scent.

"I will see you again in Velmiero, on the beaches." She smiled, maybe because his chance had passed. Maybe because she'd see him again. "I heard they are beautiful this time of year."

He wasn't surprised she knew where his next mission waited.

"I promise," she continued, "to not pluck away any of the folk living there, but it will be a quiet place just for us." And with that, she vanished as if having never existed, leaving the room, and him, in silence.

Amiero stood there, eyes lingering where she'd just been. His mouth tasted iron, as if he'd just been stabbed, but his face betrayed no emotion despite his mind and spirit wrestling with agony. His soul was like a cracked, old vase whose pieces he tried to glue back together. But when the fireplace extinguished, taking with it the sputtering candle of his will, Amiero let the pieces drop. And laughed.

A bitter, bitter laughter at the arrogant fool still standing in the unlit solar. A fool who'd said he could always pull away. A fool longing for that warmth to return. A lost cause who hesitated between banishing and joining her in Velmiero, each moment making one more appealing than the other.

He knew then how this war would end.

At one point, gods knew how long after, he stepped back outside where the crickets had begun to sing again. Life had returned to the village, but it seemed all had left him. The coldness still ached inside. But Amiero tensed when he realized he wasn't alone. The girl sat against one of the courtyard trees, straw doll next to her. She had something in her arms. Something white and comforting.

"Where did you find it?" his voice hoarse, unable to contain his shock.

She jumped to her feet, small body tense, and pointed toward the same house she had pointed to before. The white raven she held looked at him quizzically, uttering no sound. The same white thing he'd seen earlier and thought was an illusion. And it made Amiero realize how much of a fool he'd been.

"That's how you survived!" he said in awe.

She nodded, raven still looking at him with a determination foreign to such small creatures. An intelligence that humbled him, for he understood where it came from. The same white raven upon the flask he'd used, and the necklace around his neck. A protector appearing to those in need. A light as strong as the color of its plumage to keep the monsters at bay. A rare sight. It had protected the girl better than any armor or mixture could have.

Amiero fell to his knees and asked the girl for forgiveness, but he didn't need to beg, for she jumped to embrace him. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he realized how wrong he'd been about her. But he felt a sliver of warmth returning when he heard the soft coos of the raven. It had jumped onto his shoulder and rubbed its small head against his cheek, the only way it knew to reassure him.

When strength returned, Amiero rose to his feet once more. He ruffled her hair as the candle inside him glimmered back to life with a shy flame. The raven still stood on his shoulder. It seemed it had found someone else in need of its power.

"There is a temple along the way I'm going," he said. "I will leave you in the care of the priests and priestesses there." He gently scratched the raven on the top of its head. "As for me, I will finish what I should've done today."

Two choices, each moment making one more appealing than the other.

No comments: