The Fröth Woods were the perfect blend of cold and darkness to make one wonder if they'd just unwittingly stepped into hell.

I would know. I've been there, but that's a story for another time.

Watching Igna stumble in front of me, I scowled at how comfortable I was walking through the shadowy woodland, hating that this place made me feel more at ease than the small villages I'd sometimes pass through. The eerie hoots of an unknown bird echoing through the trees should have been enough to set the hairs on my arms on end, but all that did was shroud me in a sense of familiarity. Shadows flickered in uneven patches of moonlight, forming shapes of things better left to the imagination. Fog so thick that I could scarcely see past five trees in front of me hid the animals that scattered through the sparse undergrowth.

Igna could escape if she wanted to. Only her hands were bound in thick twine behind her back, but she could certainly make a run for it. Yet even she jumped at the sudden shrill calls of a livid animal, trembling when the occasional growl echoed through the canopy of evergreen pines. She refused to move more than an arm's length in front of me, muttering a prayer in a tongue I faintly recognized as an ancient Nymph language.

We were walking through a land that sent most men over the brink of insanity, and yet I've never felt like I was more at home as I did now.

"Are we almost there?" Igna breathed, her voice tight.

"Yes."

"You've been through here before?"

"I have. You?"

She opened her mouth when suddenly she turned her head to the side, spooked by a soft snap-snapping noise a little to her right. Noncommittally, I glanced over as a huge, black wolf-like creature darted forward, but it's attention wasn't on us. Instead, it growled and snapped at something on the other side of the clearing. Following its rushed path, I raised my head just in time to see a humanoid creature let out a sharp, ear-splitting shout at the wolf-like thing bounding over at it, its pale flesh hugging its bones as if it had been stretched too tight. Eyes as red as blood widened in dismay, and it frantically waved its long, sinewy arms, trying to catch the canine's muzzle with razor-sharp claws. When its attacker made no move to deter, the creature released another angry hiss, turned, and sprinted off into the fog with the canine hot on its heels. 

Igna froze, her breath catching in her chest.

"No," she finally managed. "Mutnya would never step foot in here."

I grunted at her reply, glancing up in an attempt to study that starry sky above, but the fog was only growing thicker and thicker.

What did that say of me, if some of the world's foulest monsters were too afraid to walk through these woods?

I set a hand against her back, urging her forward. She jumped at my touch, her obsidian eyes wide in fear. I wondered if any of her distant cousins were watching us through the trees, and if they would feel an obligation to help her. That would be an issue.

But that would also require her turning against me, and judging by how she had yet to make a move, I sincerely doubted she was even aware of the potential help she could receive.

You could tell her. Give her a chance to escape and find her family, if she even knew who to look for.

No, you're just looking for a better reason to kill her.

Gritting my teeth, I shook my head.

"Let's go," I muttered. "We'll be there soon."

'There' was a rocky, ankle-twisting place with upturned roots and bramble seeking to send unsuspecting passerby to their death over an equally ominous cliff. It was a pain in the ass to navigate in the dead of night, but at least the fog receded from the cliff, giving us an open, clear view of a deep, clear bay, its dark waters reflecting off the pale moonlight and stars.

A small town resided on the other side of the bay, stretching along the coast due west, and while we were too far away to really hear anything, I could almost make out the excited cheers and yells, the slow, mystical music that the people had the tendency to play this time of year. Buildings made of bleak gray stone were adorned with candles and lanterns. Outside torches lined paved dirt roads. A massive bonfire had people circling around it further inland - and in the middle of said bonfire stood a giant wooden totem of an eagle attempting to push itself off from the ground, its head angled up at the sky with its wings lifted high above its head.

Igna gapped in awe, tilting her head in wonder.

"What are they doing?"

I glanced over at her.

"You've never seen a totem dance?"

She shook her head.

"I - I've heard of it, but . . ." She paused. "I've never seen so much light like this before - not when it's night."

"Frightening, isn't it?" I said without thinking, then cursed when she gave me a puzzled look.

"How so?"

I pointed to the fire.

"When you're in a place that darkness thrives, you learn to fear the light."

"Why?"

"Because the light will kill you faster."

She frowned. I decided to ignore the careful look she was giving me and instead glanced over the bay. I pointed when I found what I was looking for.

Three silvery figures rose from the water, formless and yet still very, very beautiful as they moved over the surface of the water. The large bonfire was on the other side of the buildings, yet, somehow, the figures were able to mimic the movements of their human counterparts, morphing their shapes to give themselves an image of man before clasping each others' hands in a small circle.

Then they began to dance.

It was rumored that anyone watching from the shoreline would be taken and eaten by lovers that had long since claimed the water sprites - lovers that were anything but human. No one knows for sure what they looked like, but enough disappearances occurred on this particular night that most people were content on getting as far away from the water as possible, going as far as making sure every corner is alit so as not to be caught off guard by the beasts lurking in the dark.

Clearly, this wasn't entirely true, otherwise we wouldn't know the water sprites were there to begin with.

If Igna was going to say something, she obviously decided against it when she saw the silvery dancers, crouching down and peering over the cliff to try getting a better view.

"Mutnya never let me get this close to them," she mumbled, tilting her head. I furrowed my brow. We could barely see them from way up here, but I didn't say anything.

You should do it now, while she's distracted.

Eyes fixed on her bare, pale back, I moved to unsheathe the longer blade at my side. Nymph skin was slightly different than human; depending on the race, their flesh could range from thick and scaly to tight and reflective. Igna was as pale as the moon, but it was also embedded with gray-white streaks that resembled tree bark. Tougher than human flesh, almost as tough as a tree itself. A normal sword wouldn't have an easy time with her.

Which was why my sword wasn't a normal sword.

"Do you believe in the afterlife?" she asked suddenly, and while her eyes were fixed on the water below, I had a feeling she knew exactly what was about to happen.

It was a question I was accustomed to hearing from other men. Not so much other creatures. As if sensing my thoughts, the girl continued, her words coming in quick, frantic gasps.

"I know the gods are real. But are they really gods? Can't they die?"

"They can," I relented, sparing a glance over my shoulder. I didn't like talking about gods. They weren't all-knowing or all-powerful, but I knew all too well that speaking their names often drew their attention.

"So if the people that created the world can die, is the afterlife real? Is it eternal?"

"There's forces older than even the gods, kid." I didn't mean for it to sound so spiteful, tossing out the words as if they were pure bile resting on my tongue. I forced myself to calm down when the girl quieted, her small body trembling. "But you'll be okay. Nymphs don't go to hell."

"They - they don't?"

"Your mistress will," I corrected. "You won't."

"Why-"

Way below us, the water sprites slowed in their dance, gradually breaking up the circle while they maintained their humanoid forms. One by one, they turned around, facing the cliff we stood on as if they knew we were here.

I took the moment to quietly step forward, plunging my sword through Igna's upper back where I knew her heart was.

I hated that it was a clean cut. That she had been speaking mid-sentence, let out a soft gasp, and then stopped altogether. She shouldn't have had to die. I could've let her go. Let her turn on me. Give me wounds that would scar, pain that would distract me over the next several days, weeks, months. Something to curse her name in.

Instead, I had staged her death to show what it really was: a murder. And regardless of her reasons - whether she was just desperate to escape her mistress or she believed that I wouldn't really kill her - she had willingly played along. She'd acted the role of an innocent child watching one of the world's most mystical phenomenons, and I played a killer that only ever lurked in the shadows.

One more contract, I told myself. "Just one more."

Holding my bloodied sword in one hand, I reached under my cloak to retrieve a tightly folded piece of parchment. Unraveling the paper, I gently slid it down the blade until it skimmed over the brownish-red blood.

A burst of light shot forth from the paper, only to be gone moments later.

By the time I folded the parchment back up, my sword reflected the moonlight from its dark surface like it had never been soiled.

Now to go find the evil bitch that led me here.

~ 1744 Words ~