'Go ahead then. Let's se your next move'
The woman loomed above me, her dagger poised to strike. Her face was neutral, but her narrowed eyes betrayed her intent. I wasn't afraid—not in the slightest. My heart thumped in my tiny chest, excitement coursing through me like a drug.
It was fascinating, almost comical, that I'd ended up in such a precarious situation so soon after being born—or reborn.
I felt my frail muscles twitch, the only movement I could manage. My vision blurred as the rain poured harder, thunder rumbling in the distance. Yet, I could still see her. The way her hand gripped the dagger, her body pivoting slightly in the mud, the precise calculation in her movements—it was mesmerizing.
Her foot shifted.
Lightning flashed, and in the split second of blinding light, she was suddenly towering over me. I didn't hear her approach. Her dagger descended in a sharp, deliberate arc, aimed straight for my eye.
Then, without warning, her body jerked backward.
.....
Fels POV.
I felt the force before I understood it—a firm, unyielding grip pulling me away from the infant. My feet slid in the mud as I stumbled, pivoting sharply to glare at whoever dared to interrupt me.
"Mikel?"
The man's stoic face greeted me, drenched in rainwater, his expression unreadable. His voice came out rough yet calm, cutting through the storm.
"What the hell are you doing?"
I gestured toward the infant lying on the ground, still staring at us with unnerving calmness. "I was following orders," I said, keeping my tone light, though the accusation in his voice made me bristle.
Mikel's gaze shifted to the child. His brows furrowed in confusion before one arched upward. "You were going to kill… a baby?"
"Not just any baby," I replied, crossing my arms. "Look at it, Mikel. This thing shouldn't even be alive. It's barely been born, yet it severed its own umbilical cord—without teeth, mind you—and avoided my first strike. That's no ordinary infant."
His expression darkened as his eyes returned to the child. Rain dripped from his chin as he exhaled sharply.
"Orders are orders," he said, "but we're not here to kill children, Fels. Especially not one like this."
"And what do you suggest we do, then?" I asked, my voice carrying a faint challenge. "It's your call, Captain."
Mikel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before turning toward me. "Sheathe your blade and go inform the others to regroup at the carriage. We're taking the child with us."
I hesitated, studying him. "Really? You think that's wise?"
"It's not about wisdom," he said, his tone laced with weariness. "Call it pity. Or guilt. Doesn't matter. Just do it."
Reluctantly, I sheathed my dagger and turned to leave, though I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder at the strange infant. "You're soft, Mikel," I muttered, though I wasn't sure if he heard me over the rain.
…..
Mikel's POV.
I knelt beside the infant, my cloak heavy with water as I tore a piece of fabric from its hem.
The baby didn't flinch or cry, just stared up at me with eyes that seemed far too focused for a newborn. The sight unnerved me, but I pushed the thought aside. Wrapping the torn cloth around its small body, I worked carefully to clean away the blood and mud clinging to its fragile skin.
"You're a strange one," I muttered, shaking my head. "Calm in the face of death… If I didn't know any better, I'd think you understood what was going on."
The baby remained silent, watching me with those piercing eyes. For a moment, I wondered if Fels had been right about this child. There was something unnatural about it, something that made my stomach twist in unease.
Still, I sighed and tucked the infant securely in the makeshift swaddle. "Lucky for you, I've killed enough people to last a lifetime. No need to add a newborn to the list."
....
The burly man leaned over me, his weathered hands surprisingly gentle as he wrapped me in his cloak.
I couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity. Why had he stopped the woman? Why go out of his way to help me? He didn't seem the type to act out of pure kindness.
Disappointment flickered briefly in my chest. I'd wanted to see her strike, to feel the thrill of that life-or-death moment again. But my intrigue outweighed my frustration. This man—Mikel—was an enigma.
As I tried to study him further, my body betrayed me. Exhaustion, the cruel master of my weak infant form, began to take hold. My heartbeat slowed, my vision dimming as my eyelids grew heavier.
I cursed inwardly, fighting the drowsiness with everything I had. But it was no use.
The last thing I saw before sleep claimed me was the man's somber face, framed by the unrelenting downpour of rain.