Page 32 of Bound By the Beast Man
DIANA
I wake to the feeling of Corvak’s lips brushing against my forehead.
The morning is quiet, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire he has rekindled in the inn room’s hearth.
I open my eyes and find him watching me, the fierce, conflicted warrior of yesterday gone, replaced by a man whose gaze is full of a deep and steady certainty.
The decision we made last night, the pact we forged, has settled between us, a solid, unbreakable thing.
I am not a burden to be left behind. I am his partner.
We do not speak of it again; we do not need to.
The understanding is there in the way he looks at me, in the way he hands me a piece of bread from the tray of food he has already acquired.
After we eat, he unrolls the crude map on the small wooden table.
I look at it with him, my world expanding with the new, terrifying knowledge he has given me.
Our small village is not even a mark, and the Prazh mountains are just one corner of a vast, hostile continent.
His finger traces a long, arduous path from our current position, northward, across unforgiving terrain, to a place marked as Northern Rach. The name sends a shiver down my spine.
He has traded the last of his Osirian silver for supplies.
For me, there are durable trousers, a warm woolen tunic, and sturdy boots that will stand up to the journey ahead.
The simple, practical garments feel like a suit of armor, a symbol of my new role.
I am a traveler, a fighter. As we pack the dried rations into our satchels, our movements are synchronized, an easy, unspoken rhythm.
We are two halves of a whole, preparing for the war to come.
As we step out of the inn and into the cold morning air, I take one last look at the small, sleepy village.
The journey north to Rach is different now.
The landscape is still the same vast, intimidating wilderness of snow and rock, but the atmosphere between us has transformed.
The silence is no longer one of tension or uncertainty, but of a deep and comfortable companionship.
We talk as we travel, planning our route, discussing the dangers that the map only hints at.
He tells me tales of his brothers, giving them life beyond the shadows of his grief, and I listen, my heart aching for the reunion he so desperately needs.
My role on this journey has become vital.
The Purna’s magical trace is a constant, invisible threat, and my masking ward is our only defense.
Maintaining it as we walk is a significant drain on my strength, a low, constant hum of power that I must consciously sustain.
Sometimes the ward flickers, and a spike of cold fear shoots through me, the terrifying thought that for a single second, the Purna may have felt our location.
Corvak always seems to sense it, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his new sword, his eyes scanning the horizon.
He never pushes me, always ensuring I have time to rest and reinforce the spell that keeps us hidden.
His trust in my power, in the Purna heritage I am still so terrified of, is a quiet gift that strengthens my resolve.
My physical strength returns with each passing day, my muscles growing harder, my stamina increasing.
I am no longer the weak, stumbling creature he carried from the clearing.
I am becoming a warrior in my own right, and I see the pride that shines in his eyes when he looks at me.
That pride is a better motivator than any fear.
That night, as we sit by the fire, we study the map again. The words "Northern Rach" are a stark and intimidating promise at the top of the worn parchment. It is a land controlled by dark elves, a place of monsters and magic, and it is our goal.
"The crystal caves are here," Corvak said, his finger tapping a cluster of mountains drawn on the map. "And it is where my brothers and I swore we would meet. It is the only place in this world we all know to go."
I trace the path with my own finger, my heart heavy with the dangers I know lie ahead. But there is more than just his mission waiting in that cold, northern land. There is a sliver of hope for my own past.
"The Purna who destroyed my village," I begin, my voice quiet but firm.
"They dealt in cruelty and power. They may have had dealings in a place like the Dark Market, which the innkeeper said we must pass.
They took my sister, Ingrid. If she is still alive, a clue to her fate might be found in a place like that. "
Corvak looks at me, his expression softening with a deep empathy.
He understands. This is no longer just his quest that I am a part of.
We have a shared purpose, our paths leading to the same dark, dangerous place for different, but equally important, reasons.
He reaches out and takes my hand, his fingers lacing with mine.
"Then we will face it together," he vows.
I look from his determined face to the northern horizon, barely visible in the fading light.
I choose this path. I choose to fight—for him and his people, for myself and the power I must master, and for the future we might build, a future that must include answers about what happened to my sister.
The journey is far from over, our enemies are powerful, and the shadow that hunts us is a vast and terrifying unknown.
But as I squeeze his hand, I am not afraid. I am ready.