Blood tasted like a metallic tang and bitter shame on Mara's tongue. The slap still echoed through the captain's office, a sharp counter to the endless drumming of black rain against leaded windows. Mara touched her split lip, noting the crimson droplet on her finger.
"Never," Dia snarled, "never take action without my command again." The captain's weathered hands splayed across reports scattered on her desk like fallen leaves. "Do I make myself clear?"
Mara's gaze drifted to the weapons, mostly swords mounted on the office walls, with the exception of a few shields and daggers. The steel played tricks on her— it seemed tarnished and black where she could have sworn gleamed silver just days ago. Like everything in Ravencross lately, decay seeped into the most impenetrable of things.
"I thought it'd be the best to eliminate a threat," Mara whispered, "before it can cause further damage."
"There are always choices." Dia's fingers drummed against her desk, each tap sending tiny ripples through the inkwell. "And if you choose to follow your will, you won't enjoy the consequences. The Warden's Faction protects its own and we know how to deal with threats. Remember that."
The threat hung in the air like the unfading mist as Mara left the office, her steps echoing through corridors that seemed longer and darker than before. Each guard she passed wore expressions that welded fear with contempt.
The walk home through Ravencross's streets felt like wading through a nightmare. More than once, she caught herself reaching to adjust a mask she no longer wore.
When Mara finally pushed the front door, the sight inside stopped her. Rosemary sat cross-legged on the floor, golden hair catching the wan afternoon light, while Lily giggled at some joke they shared.
"Rose." Mara's voice carried an edge she couldn't quite hide. "How the hell did you get here?"
Rosemary's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, you know. Part of my ability. Once I've seen someone's face, I can find them anywhere in the city within a day." She reached out to ruffle Lily's hair. "Your sister is delightful company."
"Get out." The words escaped before Mara could soften them.
"Mara!" Lily's soft words cut through the tension. "Rose was just teaching me a game—"
"Now, Rose."
The girl rose with gentle grace, but paused at the door, and aligned her shoulders to the healer's. "Protect your treasure" Her whisper carried just far enough for Mara's ears. "Before tit slips away."
A mix of agitation and befuddlement choked Mara.
As Rosemary's footsteps faded, another knock rattled the door. A woman in her early thirties stood on the threshold, her fine clothes marking her as someone of high status. Dark circles beneath her eyes spoke of sleepless nights.
"Please," the woman said before Mara could speak. " My mother... the plague..." Her fingers twisted in her skirts. "My husband, he's tried everything. He told me about you and the baron you saved."
Mara's hand instinctively pressed against the ledger hidden beneath her cloak. Each healing required balance. Each life saved meant another had to go.
"I can't help you." The words tasted like ash. "I'm sorry."
"But you healed the baron! Everyone saw—"
"I said no." Mara shut the door on the woman's face and pressed her forehead against the worn wood. Behind her, she felt Lily's questioning gaze, but she shrugged it off.
Days bled into weeks. The healing chamber gathered dust, herbs withering in their hanging bundles. Glass jars were clouded with neglect. More and more patients were turned away in the following days. Mara spent her days at the Warden's Faction, healing those Dia commanded her to save, but the captain's promised criminal records remained sealed away.
At night, Mara slipped through Ravencross's shadows. Sheseeking balance on her own terms. She told herself it was justice—choosing the cruel, the violent, the deserving—or so she thought. She knew looks were mere illusions meant to conceal true intentions, however, she had no choice but to rely on her guts.
The next morning, she woke to find Lily's side of the bed cold. The ledger was open in her small hands.
"Lily—" Mara stopped at the fear in her sister's eyes.
"What are these names?" Lily's voice trembled. "What does 'transfer' mean?" She shut the book with shaking fingers before Mara could reach her.
The words of explanation died in Mara's throat. She couldn't expose herself. Not even to her own sister.
"Lily! It's not important. It's just… accounts I started to keep after joining the faction."
Mara read Lily's face. She could tell that her younger sister was far from satisfied.
"You shouldn't touch others' stuff without their permission, Lily. Even if it belongs to me."
Lily nodded, pushing herself off the chair and handing the ledger over to Mara.
***
A dozen entries or so stained the pages of the ledger.
Mara usually targeted the Black Market Square for petty thieves, drunkards, gamblers or anyone who she witnessed to commit the slightest of crimes according to her morals. But targets were dwindling and so was the hesitation of rationing herself to typical prey. Mara stood amongst the corpses of several slum dwellers at the dead of night. The stench of death clung to her blade like pleasant miasma, nauseating yet sweet. Blood had soaked into the creases of her leather gloves, turning them a shade darker than shadow. The moon and the fog were the only witnesses of her 'justified' sins. The healer snapped the ledger shut, exhaling a deep sigh. Not a single tear streamed down her cheek.
It's all to maintain the balance, there's nothing wrong in removing pests.
As she headed back, the wind howled and chilled her mind more than her skin. Something differed in the atmosphere.
Maybe it's her imagination, she thought.
What's the worst that could happen?
She viewed death as a mere transition, an event that would come and steal her from the living. But the premonition that rang in her soul surpassed it, and promised a great threat she despised.
As she arrived home, Mara discovered the door creaking on its hinges and rushed in.
"What the—?"
"Lily!" she screamed but her words fell like pebbles into a bottomless well. She dashed upstairs but the only response that came disguised itself as a scattered collection of Lily's dolls. She wiped the sweat beading on her forehead, and inhaled a deep breath. She scanned the moonlit room with a discerning eye. Mara noticed the Infernal Grimoire vanished from the desk and a brown leather book replaced it. A note peeked out from between its pages. She removed the piece of paper with trembling fingers. She lit a candle and her eyes widened as they locked onto the note.
"We have your sister and your book. Come alone to the Burned Watchtower in the city outskirts before dawn if you want to see them again. Don't test my patience."
A seal pressed into black wax depicting a dragon's skull inside a crown of thorns resided at the bottom of the threat. The symbol translated into one clear message; whoever snatched Lily away along with the Infernal Grimoire was a shadow-weaver.