I woke up to people screaming. I rushed to the window and looked out, desperate to find what was wrong, when I realised that I was looking at the sea—and not clear, Laverrenian waves. Instead, the golden blue waters crashing against the piers. This was my room. My room, in the Chief's Villa. That wasn't possible. I wished it was, that I was back at home in the comfort of the Chief's Villa, but I didn't think I would like the sight that would soon greet me. I rushed out the door and was met with a blast of smoke. Fire. This wasn't right, but did it matter?
My village was on fire, and I was the only one who could help them. I dashed towards the chaos, but already my legs were buckling underneath me. I reached inwards, but there was nothing where that chain, that fire lived but cobwebs and ashes. I was empty. I screamed, too, as a demon came towards me, just like before, under the sea. Except it was bigger, stronger, and moved with more conviction; everything I didn't have…had it stolen my magic, my fire, and used it to set my village on fire?
This couldn't be… the demon was gone. The gates to my mind bolted shut, the key thrown away.
But what if someone had caught the key?
Plumes of smoke rose from the horizon, staining the sky a cloudy grey. The forest had been reduced to cinders. And there were people, my people, screaming as they were burned alive…
I stopped hearing the sounds of torment, the pain. I could only feel agony searing a hole in my chest as a stake was ripped out of me. Until I heard another two voices join the din, two voices I would never forget. They were screaming as Kaleveh burned, as their city turned to ashes on the wind, as they watched me fade away, as they watched me leave them forever. It wasn't until I was fully gone, melted into darkness and soot, that I realised what they had been saying… "Wake up, Chandani, wake up for god's sake! Wake up!"
Wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up!
I burst upright in my bed. No. That had been a dream. I'd locked the gates to my mind and killed that demon. Forever.
He was under Varyx's cruel watch now.
And he was never coming back.
I heard voices in my mind again, more urgent than before. "Wake up!"
Mingling with their muffled chant was the sound of thumping. Wood splintering. That shouldn't be possible. My home was burning, not being trampled underfoot.
"Wake up!" Wake up, Amita, you idiot!
I realised what was happening just as the intruder smashed clean through the door.
He pointed the gun at me as I flung the sheets off myself.
I didn't know the East was so dangerous. I should've wondered why that lady in the square possessed such quick reflexes that she had caught the robber before he ran a metre away.
"Don't shoot," I said.
"Don't know what you're talking about," he smirked. "Unless you give me all your valuables and help me steal them from the other rooms with that room key of yours."
"No."
"Why should I not shoot?"
"Why should I give you what you haven't earned?"
"Nice knowing you," he sneered.
He pulled the trigger. And suddenly the bullet was racing towards me, about to strike my killing blow. I wish I could've said my life flashed before my eyes, but time only slowed down as the metal shard sliced through the air towards me. I saw the burglar's eyes through his black mask, and they were lit up with malice. There was no shame, no regret, no need, only malice. He was not one who had only this one choice left to fend for himself. He was going to take lives tonight. Regardless of their disgusting, alcoholic ways, nobody in this building deserved to die for somebody's sinful and shameless looting.
I could almost see the bullet puncture layers of air, see invisible sparks flying at its back as it spun, piercing the air, towards me.
I braced for the impact, the inexplicable pain of it splitting open my chest. But as I threw my hands out, pure instinct had a wall of flame surrounding me. An impenetrable shield.
As I saw the man gasp in fear and turn on his heels, I lashed out with burning red anger and held him in place with two ropes of flame. They spit sparks onto the floor but didn't burn.
My fear for the lives in this inn, my fear for myself evaporated and was replaced with simmering rage as I advanced on the struggling man on the floor. There was no pity for him that I could draw up from myself. I'd watched plenty of trials to determine fates in Kaleveh. This was no different.
"Where I live, the sentence for attempted murder, for killing people who had family and friends who relied on them is death. Be grateful you aren't getting more. And when you burn in Varyx's hell, think about all the lives you might've taken tonight, think about all the lives you might've destroyed. Think about all the grieving families."
I took one long hard stare at him. What inspired men to be swallowed by greed, such a desire for money? Was a good, honest life not enough?
Perhaps not anymore.
"Think about it," was all I said before I encompassed his body in flame and burned him to dust.
It was hard for him to do so, as he no longer had a body.
Free cremation. Criminals in Kaleveh hardly ever got that respect.
I sank to the floor. I'd just taken a life.
What if he'd had a family? Acted out of pure desperation?
What did it matter anyway, when he could've left a road of restless bodies behind him on the way to riches? This wasn't a murderer taking revenge. It was a ruler bringing peace. A queen exacting justice.
What did it matter, when I had taken his life too, even if it was unwittingly? Did that make me a murderer?
But because of me, that heart had stopped beating.
What did it matter anyway, when I'd sentenced plenty of murderers to the gallows? When he had toppled from that tree and fell to his death, and I had watched and been able to do nothing?
Because of me, both of them would never see, or hear, or smell, feel or taste. Never again.
I'd think about it later. Right now, I was going to get out of here. I set a hundred-dollar note on the bedside table, more than enough for the half-night's sleep I'd gotten, grabbed my pack, and was about to dash out when I bumped into a wall again. I swear it hadn't been there before.
Naturally, it was Jack.
"Wha's all that commotion abou'?" He asked when he saw my disheveled clothes that I'd quickly thrown on. Then he saw the pile of ashes on the floor. "Oh. Well, the burglar alarm seemed ter 'ave gon' off five mins' late. Off yer go lassie, I'll clean dis mess up. Thank goodness I put yer in the first room, coulda lost many more patrons tonigh', eh?"
"What, you're grateful I nearly died?"
He put his hands up in a placating gesture. "Non non, lassie, just thankful more lives ain't been lost. Police'd been lookin' 'round for dat burglar fer longest time. He be called de Black Shadow, killed hundreds before tonigh',"
I felt my face leech of colour. Hundreds?
"How are you sure it's him?"
"None odder burglars 'round these parts, eh? All gotter fight him for the gold. Anyway, soz fer dat earlier comment. Yer pretty face much better off alive."
"Never mind. I've seen plenty more danger on the seas around here." I immediately regretted my decision to tell him that, but I managed to keep my face blank.
"Yer 'ave?"
"Yeah, I crossed the Greman Sea to get here. What, did you think I came from Orinm?" I asked, gesturing to my sun-tanned brown skin. The words spilled from my mouth before I could stop them.
His face turned tight, then pale, then darkened. "Northern Landers aren't welcome here, lassie. Get inland and yer'll find ou'. I sorry. First, I getcha five secs ter get outta here, cuz I like yer, then I gon' start shootin'," he thumped his chest menacingly, picking up a gun from a high ledge on the wall I hadn't even realised existed.
I didn't have time to consider why. I bolted down the hallway, aiming for the window at the other end. I flew as if the winds themselves pushed at my heels. I was not going to be stopped by a simple bullet, after all I had survived.
The Black Shadow hadn't stopped me.
Neither would Jack.
And after this, I wasn't letting anything hold me back.
One.
I sidestepped around a puddle of vomit.
Two.
I ducked a low-hanging chandelier.
Three.
I pushed past a puzzled-looking couple just emerging from their room. I almost wondered if they were staying here willingly or if bad luck and bad choices had simply befallen them. Faster, I willed myself.
Four.
I leaped over a drunken idiot passed out on the ground.
Five.
The sound of a gun firing cleaved through the air. Without thinking, I turned and blasted back in the direction it had come from. A thick wall of solid earth suddenly barricaded the hallway. A burst of adrenaline spurred me to keep moving as more bleary-eyed people came out, saw what was happening, and tried their best to trip me up.
I dodged all of them, yelling at them to get out of the way as I pointed my hands at the window.
I could feel my backpack's rhythmic thumping against my back as I directed my mind at it and melted a gaping hole in the middle of the glass. My eyes were wide open now, drinking in the night.
I leaped up onto the table below it, a feeling of guilt passing over me as the dust-covered vase on it shattered as it hit the floorboards. Hopefully it hadn't been an antique, but it had no place in a tavern of seedy drunks anyway.
"Run!" A sage voice in my mind barked as I pushed myself out onto the windowsill.
Perching on the edge, I looked back just once. Jack had clawed a hole through my earthen wall, and now directed his rifle at me, his tattooed face warped in both sadness and anger. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
I was a Chieftess of the largest tribe in the Northern Lands. How had my life come to this, escaping from an inn full of drunks?
"I'm sorry," I murmured, my former pride glowing through as I attempted to make amends while I was still here. When the second bullet shot from the barrel of the pistol, I turned back to the night sky, a full moon twinkling invitingly from a distance.
And leaped.
-----
The night was cool but not chilly. Either way, I was grateful that I'd thought to slap on the fur-lined puffer jacket I'd bought today. The streets were empty, even the most raucous of taverns closed.
I'd killed a person. A human.
And no matter what he'd done, he still had a human heart. Had still burned like a human.
It didn't matter, I told myself. He would've died anyway, and likely only after he had killed more.
How did remorse not tug on the edge of his consciousness every time he fired his gun?
It. Did. Not. Matter.
Keep moving or you'll freeze, I told myself.
I kept moving.
And the world went on.