The chief's words echoed in the night as Sera followed him out of the hut, Rezak a silent shadow at her heels. The village square, once bustling with life, lay deserted, the central fire casting long, ominous shadows across the vacant stone seats. Except for one. Seated there, his back turned to them, was the man with hair the colour of blood. Two hunters stood sentinel on either side, watching him with narrowed eyes.
Sera's gaze darted nervously between the red-haired figure and the chief, her mind racing. The chief, bless his ignorance, knew nothing of their history with this man. A single confused glance seemed to confirm her suspicion.
"No guard saw him enter," the chief explained, his voice low and troubled. "I was about to retire for the night when the crowd erupted. He appeared out of nowhere, pushing past the villagers like a phantom. Someone with such stealth cannot be left unsupervised. Not for a moment."
Rezak muttered a curse under his breath, but Sera ignored it, her focus solely on the chief. "Did he ask for anything?"
"Yes," the chief replied, his gaze locked on the red-haired man. "He asked for you."
Sera felt a jolt of ice shoot through her veins. "Why me?"
"I don't know," the chief confessed, his frustration evident. "He refuses to speak further. All he revealed was that he has a message for you."
"Tell your men to give us some space," Sera commanded, her voice surprisingly steady. "I'll speak with him alone."
"But Sera—" Rezak began, concern creasing his brow.
"I've spent too long running from my past, Rezak," she interrupted, her eyes fixed on the silhouette against the roaring fire. This man, she had thought, was a ghost laid to rest. But here he was, waiting for her, a dark stain on the night. "Delena?"
"She is safe," the chief reassured her. "But there is something I need to tell you."
Sera longed to approach the red-haired man, but knew pushing past the chief would be disrespectful. He and his people had offered them refuge, the least she could do was grant him a few more moments. "Please," she urged.
The chief sighed, defeat heavy in his voice. "I didn't have the courage," he confessed. "I didn't follow his words. I failed to pursue The Creator."
"Sometimes, all we can do for our loved ones is be cowards," Sera responded, her words laced with regret. "I wish I had done the same."
Rezak offered a silent nod of agreement.
The chief, confused by the exchange, furrowed his brow. "I don't understand."
"I'll explain later," Sera promised, her eyes pleading. "Just… your hunters, please?"
The chief, ever gracious, waved his hand at the men. "Be careful," he warned, his voice barely above a whisper.
With newfound resolve, Sera strode towards the red-haired man, memories flashing like lightning in her mind. The promises whispered, the desperate choices made, the deal struck. Her village turned to ash. Her husband's dying breath echoing in her ears.
The red-haired man turned, his face splitting into a cruel smile. "Sera, dear," he drawled, his voice tinged with amusement.
Before he could utter another word, Sera's fist connected with his jaw with the force of a trapped animal. The man tumbled off the bench, a surprised grunt escaping his lips. She grabbed him by the back of his collar, hauling him up to face her. The smile remained, albeit bloodied and wobbly. This only stoked the fire in her veins. With a swift kick, she sent him staggering back, his cry of pain fueling her rage. She pulled the knife from her clothing, the glint of the blade mirroring the dancing flames.
But the blade never landed. Rezak's hand clamped down on her wrist, his grip firm yet gentle. "Sera, you're not yourself!"
"Let me go!" she roared, tears now mingling with the rage in her eyes. "He took everything from me!"
"He's not the one you should blame!" Rezak shouted, his voice laced with urgency.
Then, in a hushed whisper, he added, "He's not the one."
The words hit her like a physical blow. The knife clattered to the ground, and Rezak kicked it away from the groaning red-haired man, a hunter swiftly securing it.
Suddenly, the weight of it all came crashing down. The illusion of control, the desperate hope that she had outrun her past – all shattered. The pain, long suppressed, roared within her, its intensity stealing her breath. She buried her face in Rezak's chest, the stench of herbs and sweat a grounding element in the storm of her emotions. Tears soaked his bandages, each sob a tremor that shook them both.
"Sera," Rezak murmured after a time that felt like an eternity, his voice rough with concern. "Let it out. You're not alone."
His words, simple yet sincere, cracked the dam within her. She wept, the raw grief of loss, the crushing weight of regret, the fear of what the future held – all pouring out in a torrent. Rezak stood firm, a silent pillar in the face of her emotional tempest, his own hands trembling faintly with the burden he shared.
The villagers stood at a distance, murmuring amongst themselves, the red-haired man forgotten in their silent observation. The chief, his face etched with sorrow and confusion, approached cautiously.
"Sera," he began hesitantly, "what is happening here? Who is this man?"
She lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed and raw. "This… this is the man who offered me a solution," her voice hitched, "the man who led me to The Creator."
Silence descended once more, heavier this time, laden with realization. The chief's eyes widened, a flicker of understanding warring with disbelief.
"Then… the stories…" he stammered, referencing the forbidden tales of seeking power from a vengeful creator.
Sera nodded, shame battling with the need for truth. "Yes, Chief. I was… desperate. I sought to protect my village, not knowing the darkness I would unleash."
"And this man," the chief gestured towards the red-haired figure now nursing his bruised jaw, "was his messenger?"
"In a way," Sera confirmed, her voice regaining some of its strength. "He manipulated me, fueled my fear, and used me to achieve his own goals."
Fury flickered briefly in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a steely resolve. She straightened, wiping away her tears.
"But no more," she declared, her voice ringing through the square. "I will not be a pawn in anyone's game. I will face the consequences of my actions, but I will not let him control me or my fate again."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. The chief placed a hand on her shoulder, his gaze filled with newfound respect.
"You are stronger than you think, Sera," he said. "We will stand with you, as you have stood with us."
Turning to the red-haired man, who watched them with a mixture of anger and amusement, the chief's voice boomed with authority.
"You have brought chaos and fear to our village. Now, answer for your crimes. Speak, who are you, and what is your true purpose?"
The red-haired man chuckled, a dry, humourless sound. "Foolish mortals," he spat, "you think you can control me? You play into my hands, just like she did."
He gestured towards Sera, his eyes glinting with malice. "But fear not, little harbinger. Your true purpose is about to unfold. The world will tremble as you break it, and I will be there to witness it all."