Sera held her breath, her eyes locked on the blade pressed against her daughter's neck. Delena, still asleep, remained blissfully unaware of the danger lurking just inches away. It was a terrifying tableau, a cruel juxtaposition of innocence and imminent peril.
"She trusted you," Fezar snarled, his voice laced with raw pain and anger.
"Fezar," Sera pleaded, her voice steady despite the tremor in her heart, "You know Resi was like a sister to me. I would never harm her, never!"
"And yet, here we are," he countered, pressing the blade closer, drawing a thin line of blood.
"Please," Sera choked out, desperation driving her forward. "Spare her life. I beg you."
Delena stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "Mother?" she mumbled; her voice laced with confusion. Her gaze fell upon Fezar, then the knife, and the light of innocence died in her eyes.
Fezar faltered, a flicker of doubt crossing his face.
"You watched her grow up," Sera pressed, her voice trembling. "Please, let her live."
Fezar's jaw clenched, his face contorted with the conflicting emotions of grief and vengeance. "How does it feel? To see your loved one slipping away?" He spat the words; his voice hardened by the bitterness of loss. "It's agonizing, isn't it? I couldn't save her, but I'll make sure her killer suffers. I'll make sure she rests in peace."
Delena sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Sera sank to her knees, tears welling up in her eyes. "Take my life," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "End this. But please, spare my daughter."
**********************
He crouched behind a rock, his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene. The woman, Sera, pleaded for her daughter's life. He felt a pang of sympathy for the young girl, but his heart was consumed by a single, burning desire – to see the woman's blood stain his cursed blade.
Patience, he reminded himself. Once the man finished with the girl, the woman would be vulnerable. A helpless prey ready for the slaughter.
Suddenly, the woman lunged, catching the man off guard. She knocked his hand, sending the knife clattering to the ground and the girl scrambling for cover.
A shocking realization hit him. If this man killed Sera, he would be forever tethered to this place, bound by his oath and his desire for revenge. He couldn't let that happen.
**********************
Sera rolled away, the rough ground scraping her skin. What had she just done? Fezar was far stronger, armed and driven by a thirst for vengeance. Was there any hope? Attacking him seemed like the only option, and it had worked, momentarily at least. But what now? Escape was impossible, and a fight a desperate gamble. All she could do was distract Fezar, buy Delena some time to flee.
"Run!" she cried, her voice raw with urgency.
Fezar, regaining his balance, snatched the fallen knife and lunged towards the boulder where Delena hid.
Sera pushed herself up and tackled him, their bodies crashing to the ground in a tangled mess. She grappled for the knife, their struggle a desperate dance of survival. Fezar, enraged, struck her across the face, sending her reeling. Her vision blurred as she tasted blood.
"You leave me no choice," he growled, raising the knife above her.
Sera looked up and met Delena's terrified gaze. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
Just then, a deep voice resonated from behind, "Take the girl if you must, but the woman is mine."
Sera and Fezar turned to the source of the voice. A tall, muscular figure emerged from the shadows, a long knife glinting menacingly in the moonlight.
Seizing this unexpected opportunity, Sera kicked Fezar in the stomach, sending him sprawling. She scrambled away, her heart pounding against her ribs.
"Who are you?" Fezar snarled, struggling to his feet.
"No concern of yours," the newcomer replied, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. "I am here for Sera."
Sera froze, her blood running cold. Her eyes darted to the newcomer's blade, catching a glimpse of a small symbol tattooed on his wrist. It was a glyph, a word from a language lost to time. When read normally, it meant 'creation', but reversed, its meaning twisted into its opposite: 'destruction.' Sera knew that glyph well. It was etched on her own wrist too.
"He sent you to kill me," she realized, her voice barely a whisper.
"Indeed," the newcomer confirmed, his eyes devoid of any warmth. "Unfortunately, your friend met an unfortunate demise."