2.1 CHAPTER TWO: THE NEW BEGINNING
"On behalf of a person whose soul is departing and who cannot speak. . ."
Karme turned out the rest of the words the priest was saying. She could not, in any sound mind, remember why she decided to attend her own funeral. She was standing far away from the crowd that gathered at the family cemetery inside the de Serin grounds to not gain attention. But she was still close enough to hear most of everything.
As a daughter of the royal duke, Karme was given an extravagant funeral worthy of her status in life. It was something Karme had not expected from her father given his. . . feelings towards her. If it was true, she'd feel honored by it.
The only problem was that she was alive and breathing.
But to announce that his most 'beloved daughter' had run away from home would be a taint to his name. A disgrace that was far more horrendous than saying she had died. So, the duke announced that Karme had fallen victim to her illness. The one that she had been enduring since her birth, which resulted in the duke sheltering her so much.
But instead of feeling mortified that her family was already holding her funeral with her standing in attendance, Karme felt so light. She had never felt so unconfined. So unbounded.
So, when her father stood up, she scoffed. Something she could not have even thought of doing before. She watched as he and Krianna took their place beside the closed casket, with tears running down his face. Though, she was sure Krianna was smiling beneath the black mourning veil she was wearing.
"You should not have come," Celeste remarked, standing behind Karme as the two of them watched the royal duke and his true, beloved daughter fool everyone with their little charade. "This is not something you should have watched, Karme,"
"Were you not listening, Celeste?"
She asked, which gained a confused look from the great sorceress. Karme looked over her shoulder and gave the older woman a smile. Which earned another bewildered gaze from the royal mage.
"Karme de Serin is dead. Her funeral is currently afoot," Karme explained.
Celeste had no idea what to reply. She was baffled. To know that your own father held your funeral just to save his pride, she had expected Karme to be a bit more. . .Angry. But gone was the young lady crying her heart out. In front of Celeste was a whole different person.
"Are you alright with this?" she asked.
Karme nodded, turning away from her funeral. She started walking away from the sight as they lowered her casket. "It's alright. With this, somehow… I'm free. I'm no longer a de Serin. Not a lady nor the daughter of the royal duke. I am simply me,"
She stopped walking and turned to face Celeste. Her face was peaceful. As if all her trouble had been buried together with the empty casket. And for a moment, Celeste could swear that she saw Karme's eyes hold a glint with a soft, blue hue. But it was gone as quick as it came.
~oOo~
Four years later. . .
The man sitting at the corner of the tavern swung his mug to his lips. He gulped down all of its content. Letting out a loud, audible sigh as he slammed the wooden mug back into the table.
He was celebrating, after all. He managed to run. There was no way the Kifo would be able to find him right where he was. He crossed the sea just to escape the one they all called the huntress.
But of course, it was not like he believed in the hearsay. After all, no one had ever even seen her. The mysterious member of the Kifo; is the Sifr(1).
Downing booze one after the other, the man grew drunk enough that he could not drink anymore. He stood up. Stumbled his way toward the barman and paid for his drinks.
"Please wait for your change, sir," the barman stated as he took the gold coins the man dropped in front of him.
He tapped the barman lightly on the cheek twice with a laugh. "Keep it. I'm in a good mood.. I'm alive!!!" he slurred as he started for the door, waving his hand over his shoulder.
He stumbled out of the parlor and into the streets. It was dark, with only a few torches lit. The alley was devoid of people with all the doors and windows closed. The moon was hidden behind a large group of clouds, shadowing everything.
Unbeknownst to the drunk, stumbling man, someone was standing behind him. The shadow watched as he wandered aimlessly in the dark, empty alley. He stopped and floundered towards a wall. He groaned as he fell to the ground, sliding his back over the bricked wall.
The shadow walked towards him. It stopped right in front of the drunken man with a word. He looked up and grinned.
"Well, hello," he slurred though it was apparent he was flirting. "Looking for company tonight?"
The clouds slowly revealed the moon. It illuminated everything below it. The drunken man was shocked out of his stupor as soon as the moon's light shone on the shadow in front of him.
Her hair, as red as fire, danced behind her like fingers of a flame. Her eyes, cold and stoic, glinted a blue hue. The mark of a Kifo on the woman's left shoulder caught the man's eyes.
"How did you find me here?" the man shouted as he staggered to his feet. "This is out of your jurisdiction!"
"Alaric Fitton, in payment for all of your sins against the throne; I hereby deliver your punishment,"
"No, no, no," the man slurred as he stumbled back away from her. "You are not real. You are no!"
The woman raised a hand in the sky with her palm up. A small lightning started crackling in the middle of her hand. It slowly and steadily grew bigger until it formed into a bow. She pointed it towards Alaric Fitton, who was already running away from her.
She was poised to attack. And from her other hand appeared a bolt of blue lightning in the shape of an arrow. Without a word, she pulled back the bowstring and fired.
Alaric Fitton's ear-splitting scream filled the quiet alley they were in. Disturbing the serenity in the air. Windows opened one by one as people in their homes looked around for the source of the sound.
A few individuals braved the unknown and walked the alley with torches in hand. To find the source of the sound. But it was empty. No one else was beside Alaric Fitton's body in the middle of their street. With a gaping hole in his chest, his blood coloring the pavement red.