Silence was heavy in the wake of her encounter with Ian. Iris dared not look up to see if he was still there with her. The answer was there at the edge of her mind gnawing at her. He left! He is gone! Accept it! She told herself, but her heart refused to listen to any reason and foolishly hoped that he was still there peering at her with amber eyes.
Iris lowered her hand to her side. The pain that strangled her already bleeding heart was far more significant in comparison with the pain of her wounds.
A strangled sob escaped her lips, and she finally raised her head, only to be greeted with darkness and nothingness. He'd left her again!
" You promised!" she choked on her own tears as her plea lingered in the empty space around her.
To her dismay, there was no reply. She was all alone. Empty. After losing everything, she had nothing else to lose. Only her freedom. That was all she had left, and she was sure sooner or later, she would lose that too again. At least no one was chasing her anymore. The witch was gone, and so was Ettrick. It was a comforting feeling.
Iris curled her arm around her chest and picked up the sword off the ground with her hand still wrapped in the rag she ripped from her tunic—shuffling her feet across the land, feeling broken and defeated. Despite being dead, they had won in more ways than one. She was alive but had no one to share her pain and joy, or anything for that matter. She would gladly welcome death if the opportunity presented itself.
The skies were still dark, with no light piercing through the clouds hovering as far as the eye could see, but it seemed that the clouds were thinning, and a faint glow, as if it was right before dawn, skimmed the ground. Iris looked around. She could see some remnants of trees in the distance to her side, patches of unburned grass here and there tainted the black ground in a vibrant green. It was a welcome sight after so much time being deprived of colours. Her throat was tight, her lips dry, and her mouth was claggy. No water was in sight, and she had to bear the thirst and hunger. She had done it before. It wouldn't be a first.
The lively glow of torches burning in the distance spurred her feet to move faster than she had thought she could. She was closer to the border than she had thought. If it were the same camp they passed through before, she would have no trouble getting back to Ironstone.
" Who goes there?" a man's voice rasped in the distance, sounding as weak as she was but still ready to pull his sword.
" I come in peace." Iris huffed and slowed herself to a more steady pace.
There was no reply from the man that asked the question, but she saw a torch moving towards her, and soon enough, a burly figure appeared not far from where she was.
" Who are you, and what business do you have in these lands?" the man asked, overly defensive, as he measured her from head to toe.
" I'm headed to Ironstone. I must have a word with the Lord of these lands." She vaguely explained herself, hoping he wouldn't resist her attempt to cross the border.
The man halted his steps in front of her. His surly and brooding demeanour reminded her of Dakran. He was the only friend she had left in the Seven Seas.
" What about?" The man barked. His cautiousness was a little over the top, considering he was twice her size.
" That's between him and me to discuss." Iris countered, and little miffed at the man overreacting.
The man hummed, but his frown stayed imprinted on his forehead. It was a welcome distraction from her earlier self-pitying episode. If only she wouldn't have to fight him.
" I'm injured, and I'm broken and tired. Can we continue this tirade over a glass of water?"Iris tried to placate him, tempted to smile at him, but she didn't want to mislead him, nor she had the strength.
The man gave her another look and turned on his heels, and she followed, ambling her way behind him. Her knees were weak, and her whole body was on the cusp of falling apart, but she couldn't afford the luxury. Not right now. Later!
" How far to Ironstone?" she asked to distract herself as they walked inside the camp. It looked in pieces as if they'd been attacked. Injured, splayed on the ground, or dead, she couldn't tell. None moved. Dead, she concluded.
" A day or two that way!" the man pointed in a different direction that she remembered they went last.
" Sit! " he curtly asked, pointing at a spot on the floor next to a slow-burning campfire.
The man took a tin cup and dunked it into a bucket of water next to the fire and briskly shoved it to her face so that she had to recoil so he wouldn't hit her with it.
Iris reluctantly took the cup from him, a little apprehensive as she looked around the camp at the men busied themselves packing their things.
" What are they doing?" she asked as she watched the men folding tents and shoving things into their travel bags.
" We have been called home. The beasts have
broken through our last line of defence. No point staying. Out fight is over!" the man explained in the same brusque tone as he fiddled with some pots and pans, shoving them in a sack.
" Where is home?" she continued probing, hoping to gain some companionship on her short journey.
The man raised his head and gave her a stern look " Ironstone for now. There is some food left." he offered her a bowl of something that bearly looked edible. Iris took the proffered bowl and nodded at him, refraining from smiling.