I will kill you, Freya! I will kill you all! Not even His Majesty can save you now!" Cayena's voice cracked as she laughed hysterically, her body drenched in blood.
Cayena swore vengeance. It was either to die or avenge her family. There was no other choice.
"You can't do it, Cayena. You won't get away," Freya smirked. "The city guards are at the gates. You can't leave after killing me."
"Do you think I care?" Cayena hissed. "I'll take you with me."
With a roar, she lunged forward, spear in hand, and tore through Freya's guards. They attacked her all at once, but they were no match for the greatest swordmaster of the Kingdom of Elodea. She slaughtered them without mercy.
Freya's smile faltered, and she turned to flee, but Cayena was faster. She threw her spear with deadly accuracy. It pierced Freya's heart, and the woman crumpled to the ground.
Cayena strode forward, placing a finger beneath Freya's chin and meeting her gaze.
"You think this matters?" Freya coughed, blood spilling from her mouth. "You'll be alone in this world, Cayena. No family. No one to stand by you. I killed your last family member, your foolish sister, who couldn't wait for you in the countryside."
Cayena's eyes widened in disbelief. "No… no, you're lying! It can't be" she screamed. "If it's true, I won't leave you a whole corpse!"
"Your sister was a fool. I warned her to stay away, but she wouldn't listen. I thought you of all people would understand—sacrifices must be made for power. Isn't that what your family taught you?" said freya
Fury surged through her as she yanked her spear from Freya's chest. Freya spat blood and died.
With a scream of rage, Cayena ran for her horse, heart pounding. She rode hard, desperation clouding her thoughts.
"Please, God, no. Not Ethel," she whispered through tears as she reached her manor. The world around her seemed to collapse when she saw the sight before her. The sight of her manor—blood-soaked, the life drained from it—stopped her in her tracks. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Her legs felt like stone as she stood there, staring at the nightmare before her. Was this really happening? Or was it another cruel dream she couldn't wake from?
She rushed inside, calling her sister's name. She burst into Ethel's room and stopped dead in her tracks. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed beside her sister's lifeless body.
"No! No, Ethel! Please! Wake up! I'm here, sister! Please, I'm begging you—wake up!" Cayena's voice broke as she cradled her sister's cold form. "You're all I have left, Ethel. I'm sorry. I promised I'd be there. I told you to wait for me. Why didn't you listen? Please... please wake up. We were supposed to watch the sunset together after all of this was over."
She shook Ethel's body gently, hoping for any sign of life, and breath. "Please... please, wake up," Cayena whispered, her voice cracking with desperation. The silence that followed was deafening. Her sister's body, still and cold, offered no comfort.
She held her close, as if willing the warmth to return, but the reality was undeniable. Ethel was gone.
Her hands trembled as she brushed Ethel's hair away from her cold face. The sister she had promised to protect. Gone. The weight of it crushed her chest, and wild, desperate anger bubbled to the surface, but it was quickly swallowed by a sea of despair.
Tears streamed down her face as she wiped the blood from Ethel's body. "I'm sorry... all of this is my fault." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'll make sure you sleep peacefully now."
With trembling hands, Cayena gently laid Ethel's body aside and went to the backyard. Her nails were broken, her hands slick with blood as she dug a grave with her bare hands. Her nails cracked and broke, but Cayena didn't care. The pain in her hands was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. She dug, harder and faster, as if burying her sister could bury the agony. Every shovelful of dirt felt like another wound, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't—didn't—want to stop. She lay her sister in it carefully and started covering it with dirt. Cayena's trembling hands scooped the last mound of dirt onto the makeshift grave. The cold earth seemed to mock her, weighing heavier than it should, as if the world itself condemned her actions. She stood back, leaning on her blood-stained spear, her face streaked with dirt and tears.
Before her lay the grave she'd just finished digging with her own hands—a final resting place for her sister, Ethel.
Her voice broke the silence, low and trembling. "Ethel... I did this. I was supposed to protect you. I swore to be your shield, and instead, I... I killed you." Her knees buckled, but she caught herself with her spear, refusing to let her grief bury her.
"I killed her too," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I killed my best . Freya.The one who fought beside me, who laughed with me, who betrayed us. I thought avenging you would feel... good. But it doesn't. It's just empty."
She fell to her knees, pressing her forehead to the ground. "I have nothing left now but this. This pain. This promise."
Her voice grew stronger, though it trembled with emotion. "I swear to you, Ethel, and Mother and Father—I will end him. His Majesty, that monster who destroyed everything. He'll pay for what he's done, or I'll die making him pay."
Rising to her feet, Cayena gripped her spear tightly. The once-pristine weapon was stained crimson, but it glinted under the moonlight like a beacon of her resolve.
"Rest now," she said, turning away from the grave, her shadow stretching long behind her. "I'll finish this."