Page 76
Story: Vows & Ruins
‘And yet people remain… Do you think anyone remains in Delmira?’
‘You’ve seen Delmira. It’s nothing but ruins.’ Wilder shrugged. ‘I suppose I don’t know for sure.’
‘Guess we’ll find out soon enough,’ she said, reaching for the food. ‘What did your friend Dratos have to say?’
Wilder almost winced at the termfriend. He hadn’t actually known Dratos all that well during his time in Naarva. It had only been in the years that followed that they’d stayed in touch. Originally Wilder had suspected it was because the ranger had been ordered to ensure that Wilder spilt no secrets of the fallen kingdom, that he told no one of the plans unfolding there. But over time, a kinship of sorts had developed through their letters and reports. Dratos was one of the few people Wilder knew who was unapologetically themself, always. He begrudgingly admired that.
Remembering himself, he answered Thea. ‘Only that things are worsening to the south. That recently, he lost some of his… people. He told me to expect more monsters – wraiths, reapers and the likes of the vine blight we saw up on the cliffs.’
‘Great.’
‘Welcome to the life of a Warsword.’
The words of warning had the opposite effect to what he’d intended. In fact, it was the most genuine smile he’d seen from Thea in a long while.
* * *
Wilder’s relief didn’t last long. He froze at the edge of the small watering hole where they’d stopped to rest the horses, his whole body suddenly tense.
‘What is it?’ Thea asked, her hand on the grip of her sword.
Wilder was already wading through the reeds, his grip closing around the limb that floated on the surface.
His chest tightened as he dragged the corpse to dry land, laying it down gently and stepping back. The person hadn’t been dead long.
Thea was at his side in an instant, a gasp on her lips. ‘Is that…’
Wilder peered down at the young man. Dark, membranous wings sprouted from his back, talons tipping his fingers. ‘Another half-wraith,’ he finished for Thea, nodding.
She crouched by the creature’s head, her eyes scanning what Wilder had already noted – the black vein-like webbing across the remaining human skin; the scars on his chest from when he’d been turned. Wilder had seen it before. There was no telling where this one had come from, or where his allegiance lay… And were it not for the few distinct wraith features, it might have been an ordinary man, perhaps roughly Wilder’s own age. The thought didn’t sit well with him.
‘How common are these monsters?’ Thea asked, her gaze trained on the half-wraith’s wings now, wings that were limp and caved in at odd angles.
Wilder raked a hand through his hair. ‘Hard to say. But it’s odd to have found two of them alone in different territories.’
‘It definitely doesn’t feel like a coincidence.’
He watched as Thea traced the bone-like frame of the creature’s wing with her fingertip, a dark expression clouding her face. He couldn’t tell her about them, not yet. If he was wrong about the half-wraiths, it would put her in direct danger, and if he was right… Well, fuck – if he was right, he didn’t know what it might mean for her, for the midrealms.
But for once, his apprentice wasn’t looking to him for explanations or answers. She seemed thoroughly fixated on the half-wraith and his wings.
‘What is it?’ he asked her.
She didn’t look away from the creature. ‘I’ve seen…’
‘Seen what?’
‘Something like this before,’ she said slowly, still not looking up at him.
‘Yes,’ he replied, dread curdling in his gut. ‘On the clifftops with the vine blight.’
But Thea shook her head. ‘No. In my dreams, Wilder. The one last night…’
Heart pounding fiercely, Wilder crouched beside her and cupped her chin, drawing her face away from the creature to meet his gaze. ‘You saw this exact half-wraith? Like a premonition?’
‘No,’ Thea whispered, her hands shaking at her sides. ‘Not this one. A woman… She was overseeing prisoners like this. Half-wraiths, as you call them. They were being tortured.’ She let out a shuddering breath. ‘Do you think… Do you think it’s a sort of vision? Do you think I was shown the future?’
‘I don’t know…’ Wilder said slowly.
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