Chapter One - Edrei
Chapter One
Edrei
The sound of his labored breathing filled the silence, each ragged breath a stark reminder of the loathed act she had been ordered to perform, and the night was not yet over. Her steps echoed between the stone walls as she slowly stepped around him, her breath forming tiny clouds in the cold air, eyes fixed on the unconscious man tied to the chair. The only source of light came from the moon that hung swollen and low in the night sky, its eerie light painting odd striped shadows on the man’s face through the only latticed window in the room.
She tapped her finger lightly on her blade as she studied the man, one tap, two taps, three taps, and again. The blood felt sticky under her fingernails, half-dried and crusty in some places, still fresh and dripping in others.
His name was Emex, and she knew everything about him. She knew that he was the oldest of three siblings, that he was pretty much the one who had raised them after their mother had passed away and their father spent more and more time with alcohol than them. She knew that he was in love with a young woman in the same village and that he was thinking of asking for her hand in marriage. She also knew she would say no, because a future as a farmer’s wife was not something she wanted for herself. She even knew his favorite color. Light blue. Like the color of a clear sky when the sun was at its highest.
But all that information was redundant. She was after specific information, something he either knew but chose not to say. Or he knew nothing. She believed the second option more than the first. Not many could handle her form of interrogation, especially not an ordinary farmer. But that didn’t help her. Or him.
Emex’s eyes flickered slightly, before he woke up, he raised his head but quickly learned to regret it, the sudden movement causing all of his injuries to come back to life, making him groan in pain. She recognized the feeling. He opened his eyes slowly this time, clouded with pain and confusion he found her. They locked onto hers, searching, pleading. His lips moved, forming words she couldn’t hear. She stepped closer, crouching down on her knees next to him, the damp earth beneath her seeping through her bloodied clothes.
“Please,” he rasped. “Please… Just…” he broke off with a wet cough. His whole body shuddered with it. He sounded like he had blood in his lungs.
“Give me a name,” she answered indifferently. He didn’t have long left. She could end his misery now, perhaps, make his path to Edos´ arms less painful. Her blade remained in her hand, her finger moved steadily, one tap, two taps, three taps, and again.
“I… I don’t… know…” It was difficult for him to find the breath to speak. She could empathize with that, she had been in his position before, after all.
“Give me the names, and I will end your suffering.” She gripped her blade tightly. There was no point in prolonging his pain. If he gave her what she needed, she would end it.
Emex tried to speak again, but his life was slipping, he had no more energy to spare. Edos was already here to retrieve his soul. They would get no more from him, he had given all he could give. As she stood up, she made the sign for Edos, showing her respect for the god she worked with the most, the God of life and death. As she watched him struggle, she thought of his siblings, maybe there was a chance they knew what their brother did not, but she doubted it.
A deep, menacing, chuckle echoed inside her head, and the shadows around her slightly moved, reminding her that she was never truly alone. She ignored it.
Emex´s hand, slick with his own blood, reached out and grasped her wrist with surprising strength. His eyes bore into hers, filled with a mixture of fear, anger, and something else -something she couldn’t name. A desperate attempt to stop her, as if he knew of what she was thinking of. Where they would go next to find answers. But he was powerless to stop her. She watched as the light in his eyes grew dim, unable to voice his protests. His grip loosened as his strength faded, his hand falling limp. It lay resting on the edge of the plain, wooden chair, his breathing slowing to a stop. Edos had come and gone, with one more soul in her collection, thanks to her.
The night became peaceful, no longer interrupted by screams and rasping breaths. The only disturbance was the howling wind through the crumbling arches of the old stone ruin, its voice carrying a mournful chill. Edrei stood over Emex’s lifeless form, her eyes fixed on him as her fingers resumed their rhythmic tapping on her blade. One tap, two taps, three—over and over, like a silent countdown. His face was frozen in an expression of torment, etched with the agony of his final hours at her hands. Even in death, it seemed she would haunt him. The adrenaline of the night still pulsed through her veins, a low hum in her ears, a reminder of the violence that had not yet fully left her. The moon hung high over their forms, a pale observer casting jagged shadows over his face and through the shattered walls.
For a moment, the wind outside seemed to falter as a deeper cold settled into the ruin, and from the corner of her eye, the shadows began to writhe like a living thing. Curling and stretching, they behaved as if having a mind of their own. She turned her head, every instinct in her screaming of danger, but having it under control, refusing to answer to it.
In the deepest corner of the broken room, where the moonlight did not reach, the shadows thickened into an impenetrable void. From that void, two blood-red eyes ignited like embers in the dark, their unnatural glow cutting through the dark. They did not blink or waver, staring directly at her.
The eyes were always the first to materialize, but not the last. Around them a shape began to take form—faint at first, but growing sharper with every heartbeat. Jagged white teeth, framing a crimson tongue that curled with predatory hunger.
This was nothing new to her, but still, this creature had a feeling, an aura surrounding it that still sent a shiver down her spine as nothing else did anymore.
A massive paw, black as midnight and silent as death. Claws sharper than any knife, and she knew this from experience, raked against the stone, leaving jagged scratches, and out after it came the rest of the creature. Another step followed, then another, until the full form of the creature stood before her.
A wolf, big as a horse, its body seeming to be sculpted from the shadows themselves, its fur an ever-shifting void of black. The red eyes bore into her, unrelenting.
Azazel sniffed the air, her wet nose twitching, probably picking up a myriad of scents. The enormous black creature moved with an eerie, almost unearthly grace as she stepped towards the body still sitting on the chair. Its massive form seemed to absorb the moonlight, blending seamlessly into the darkness. Each step she took was silent, its enormous paws barely disturbing the soil and loose stone underneath. The creatures’ eyes, a burning blood-red, scanned their surroundings with an unyielding hunger. They glowed with a ghostly light, piercing anything with a predator’s intensity. Its ears, sharp and vigilant, twitched at the slightest sound. It opened its jaw against the body, saliva hanging from her lethal teeth as strings.
“Don’t touch him,” she said to her, with some force behind her words, making Azazel close her mouth and turn her attention back to Edrei, regarding her closely. She sat down on her hunches, her head tilted to the side, almost like a dog but she was anything but.
“You think I would touch that? I do have standards you know,” she mentally answered her, her voice rough and deep, ringing in her head.
The beast was a Tenebrous Hound, a creature wild and feral, completely untameable. It lived in the shadows, able to travel through them, hunting whatever it wanted, animal or human. Often solitary, society knew only to fear them. Nobody knew where they came from, but some believed it was not originally this world. The royals had discovered a way to partly control them. As they were found to be extremely loyal to their chosen bonded, some humans were handpicked to connect to these beasts.
Edrei ignored Azazel’s curious look, walking around her to get to the body. With gloved hands, she untied his restricted bindings and lifted him gracelessly from the chair to lay him on the frostbitten ground. Her companion, the hound, watched silently from behind.
She worked methodically, having lost count of how many times she had done this before. She secured the corpse so that no flailing limbs would get stuck anywhere when she moved it. The body was past the first stages of decomposing already, the skin getting purple and waxy, once healthy skin starting to pale as the blood leaves. She wanted to bury it before rigor mortis sets in, as past that point it’s much harder to maneuver. As she worked, she avoided looking at his face for too long. It was easier that way.
The ruin itself was ancient—its purpose long forgotten—yet it had served her well this night. It was well secluded, the nearest settlement wasn’t for miles, and no one could have accidentally overheard Emex or disturbed her as she had worked well into the night. Earlier that day, she’d scouted the forest, marking a spot far from prying eyes, where she had already dug a hole deep enough.
Now, with Azazel pacing beside her, she finished tying the body onto a makeshift sled she’d constructed from scavenged wood and rope. Her breath misted in the frigid air as she straightened, testing the knots. Tight. Secure. Just as they needed to be.
She stepped back, surveying her work. “This won’t take long,” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the wind.
The hound regarded her curiously, staying silent through it all. She fell in line with Edrei as she began the strenuous task of dragging the body out of the ruin. As soon as she stepped into the forest darkness shrouded her as a blanket, the moon piercing through the branches, randomly lighting up her path. The sled skidded over uneven ground, its wooden frame creaking with each lurch.
The woods were deathly quiet, save for the crunch of frost beneath Edrei’s worn boots and the low rustle from the hound slinking through the branches. Despite her size, she still seemed to travel through the forest with ease, making it obvious that the forest was her domain. Edrei could feel the cold more severely here. It gnawed at her fingers and seeped through her heavy woolen coat, though she welcomed the sensation. It grounded her, helping her keep the fire at bay.
The spot came into view—-just as she remembered. A cluster of leaning trees surrounded the hole she had dug several hours before, when the sun was still shining its light over the forest. Their roots tangled in a macabre embrace. She dropped the sled’s rope and approached the edge. The earth yawned open, dark and forbidding. In this darkness, it looked like the bottom was nonexistent.
“This is it,” she whispered.
Azazel padded to her side, having stopped by the sled, its form blurring into the shadows. It peered into the hole, as if curious.
Edrei worked quickly, untying the body and maneuvering it to the edge. She paused, staring down into the black void. For a moment, her thoughts flickered, traveling back to the man’s final moments, hearing his screams of pleas. Beside her, Azazel growled, a sound deep and resonant, like the rumble of an avalanche before it breaks loose. It snapped her out of it, and she was once again back in the present.
She pushed.
The body tumbled almost soundlessly into the abyss, swallowed whole by the waiting earth. Edrei watched as it vanished into the darkness, the faint rustle of fabric and the whisper of frozen ground against flesh the only markers of its descent, a final thud as it met the bottom just meters down.
Edrei dragged her hand across her face, smearing blood and sweat across her flushed cheeks. Despite the cold winds blowing through her dark locks, she felt warm, the trekking having kept the chill at bay. She looked up, towards the sky, allowing herself a breather. Black, skeletal branches clawed at the star-strewn sky above her.
After just a moment, she returned to the task at hand. Walking towards some trees, grabbing the handle of the shovel she had left here. She began to shovel the loose earth back into the grave again, and as she worked she could see Azazel leaving through the tree trunks, disappearing in the darkness completely.
“I’m going for a hunt,” Her deep voice sounded in her head. “I’ll be back when you are done.”
And just like that, the hound was gone, having also shielded their mental bond. Edrei turned her head fully, in time to catch a final glimpse of those glowing red eyes. They lingered for a heartbeat longer, watching her, before vanishing completely. The departure was so silent, so seamless, it was as though she had never been here at all. But Edrei knew better. Even if she couldn’t feel her in her mind any longer, she knew she was never far away.
She returned to her shoveling, it would take time before she was done.
———————-
Hours later the sun had still not yet risen, even if the morning was fully underway. It being winter still, the first signs of the sun’s arrival were just beginning, painting the edges of the sky with faint traces of color. The deep indigo of the lingering night softened into muted purples and grays, and above the treetops Edrei could see a fragile strip of a pale amber that hinted at the approaching sunrise.
Edrei walked tiredly through the forest, her limbs aching and her body heavy with exhaustion from the long night. The world around her remained cloaked in cold twilight, the kind that seeped into her bones and made everything feel heavier. Beside her, Azazel walked with a new spring to her steps, her nose still bloody from a fresh kill. The sight of her made Edrei feel even more weary. The frost on the ground caught the faint light, shimmering like broken glass, but it was brittle and hollow, breaking under her step easily with a crunch.
The air was still, heavy with the kind of silence that only came in the early hours of winter mornings. Her breath came in slow, visible puffs, the rhythm a reminder of how little rest she’d managed to steal. She could just about see the first signs of her nearing the village she was walking towards in the distance, faint silhouettes against the dim, pre-dawn light. The trees were starting to grow thinner around her and beneath her boots, the soft crunch of frozen ground gave way to the compact dirt of a narrow trail, worn smooth by countless steps over the years.
The village was a small insignificant one, where Emex and his family lived and where Edrei had spent the last few weeks, hidden among the shadows. She had been at the village for weeks, hiding and shadowing Emex to learn as much about him before ultimately taking him for questioning. As she neared the edge of the village she slowed down her steps, Azazel disappeared to somewhere through her shadow, hiding so that Edrei could walk without attracting attention.
Pulling her hood lower she walked around the edge, her sharp eyes scanning the surroundings out of habit. Everything looked as it had the day before, and the day before that—quiet, unassuming, and ordinary. Despite the early hours the village was teeming with life, the residents busy with preparations for the day ahead. Edrei walked in a way so that no eyes could catch her, knowing that in this small village, everyone knew of everyone, and would know when it was a stranger that they saw.
The homes huddled together, as if avoiding the cold, their chimneys releasing thin streams of smoke into the frigid air. Somewhere, a baby was wailing against the world, disrupting the stillness of the world and giving voice to their concerns of being awake. The structures were humble, with stone foundations and wooden frames, worn by weather and time, but still sturdy enough to hold back the encroaching wilderness. Avoiding the center of the village, she took the long way around to her temporary hideout, a modest, nondescript structure tucked into the outskirts. She went past a small temple, a small well, dedicated to Nilthraldin, the deity for Wilderness. As the village lived so close to the edge of a forest, it was important that they kept the peace with the gods, and she could see several offerings, among them a small doll probably made by a child.
She could see her temporary home, the sight of it made her longing for sleep double, even if it was on the hard, bare wooden floor. She had a thick woolen blanket that would help keep the cold away. She only needed a few hours before she had to get up again, this time to get to the bar where Emex had seen the only thing that Edrei could count as a clue. A stranger, something that was unusual in these parts. A stranger who had only had one beer for the entire evening, with a hood up to hide his face. She would see if she could find out more about this man, maybe see if anyone saw where he went later.
As she neared her door, she noticed that the latch was disturbed—-not broken by desperation, but carefully worked loose. Edrei noticed it instantly and her hand went behind her back to slowly pull out one of her dual scimitar, its curved blade blinking in the light, she could feel Azazel’s growl in her head, excited for the coming hunt. Stilling herself, she peered carefully through the rough-hewn planks, to see if the intruder was still lingering.
Behind she could see a figure moving, someone had lighted the few candles she had, their light flickering with the movement within. The figure moves as if used to small spaces, used to ducking under low barn rafters and squeezing through narrow gaps in fences. This was no trained enemy coming for her, and Edrei swore silently. It was one of the sisters of the man she’d buried hours before, Emex. Astrid was her name and she couldn’t be more than sixteen winters old, her rough homespun dress was patched clean, her hands red and chapped from winter work.
“Where are you, Emex?” the girl could be heard muttering to herself, as she turned over Edrei’s meager possessions with careful, work-hardened hands. “You wouldn’t leave the animals unattended. Not this time of the year. Not with the cow so close to calving.”
Of course, that had been the clue, the thing that tipped her off. Emex was a responsible man, the backbone of the family, and he would never abandon them, let alone leave a calving cow to fend for itself. When Astrid went to the barn and found no sign of him sleeping there, she’d known something was wrong. How she’d tracked down Edrei’s hideout remained a mystery, but it didn’t matter now.
She watched through the gap as Astrid methodically searched the cabin. She moved like someone who knew the value of every object, carefully setting each item back exactly where she’d found it. Not out of stealth, but from the ingrained habit of someone who owned very little and knew that every possession mattered. At the moment she didn’t know anything, but with every step, every search, Astrid came closer and closer to the loose floorboard where incriminating evidence lay—her coat with the royal signet sewn onto it, revealing Edrei as the King’s own—and his wooden cup, the one he’d been drinking from when Edrei’s poison took hold. The cup was hand carved, with small symbols around its rim and if Astrid saw it there was a high chance that she would recognize it as Emex’.
The girl was close now, her patched boots shuffling over the loose board. She paused, head cocked like someone used to listening for predators near the chicken coop. Her fingers found the edge of the plank.
Edrei moved.
But farm life bred sharp instincts. Astrid spun, faster than expected, a small knife of her own appearing – the kind used for harvesting roots and skinning rabbits. Her eyes widened. “You… you asked for water from our well yesterday.”
Azazel growled, a deep menacing growl, and the shadows around them flickered slightly. But Edrei pushed her down, stopping her to come forward. Astrid looked tough, but scared. She was probably used to protecting her animals from wolves, but she had no training, only plenty of practice at staying alive. But Edrei had been killing people since before this girl could walk.
Edrei moved faster than her thoughts, the whisper of steel through the air too quiet to break the tense silence. Astrid’s eyes widened, the knife slipping from her trembling fingers as she clutched at the wound, blood already staining her patched dress at the front. She staggered back a step, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.
For a moment, Edrei was frozen. The room seemed to hold its breath, the faint smell of copper mingling with the damp chill in the morning air. Astrid’s gaze, sharp with fear and confusion, locked onto hers, pleading for an explanation that would never come.
Edrei knew that look. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen it, but it always lingered—-those unspoken questions, the accusations. Her chest tightened, and for a heartbeat, the weight of what she had done crushed her, making her breath shallowly.
But survival demanded ruthlessness. She couldn’t afford mercy.
Edrei caught Astrid as she fell, lowering her to the ground. The girl’s breaths were shallow, her blood pooling on the uneven floorboards. Edrei’s hands, steady as ever, wiped her blade clean on the hem of Astrid’s tunic before slipping it back into its sheath on her back.
She knelt there for a moment, staring at the stillness that replaced the spark of life. Astrid had been innocent—just a farm girl trying to find her brother, someone who should have grown old in this insignificant village, not died here in this cold, dim cabin. Her skin felt raw, as if the air itself scraped against her, leaving invisible wounds in its wake. Her breaths came in uneven, shallow bursts, and she struggled to find a rhythm that eluded her. Emex’s scream from the night before was coming back to her, their echoes clinging to the inside of her skull. They gnawed at her, like desperate, invisible hands trying to drag her back down to that moment. Her blood sang, something it only did during moments of violence. She lived for these moments, this was her curse. Blood and violence were the only things that made her feel alive these days. At the same time, it made her want to crawl out of her skin. It was as if the walls around her reverberated with their agony, the ghost of each tortured scream still alive in the stillness.
Standing, she wiped her hands on her already bloodstained cloak and forced herself into motion. Coolly, she crossed the room to her packsack in the corner, pulling out some rations—jerky—for breakfast. Moving the body now wasn’t an option; the village was awake, and someone would surely notice. Staying longer than a day wasn’t possible either. The only answer was to leave the body here, hoping it would be discovered after she was long gone.
The stillness in the room felt oppressive, pressing against her chest with an invisible weight. As she ate, her eyes remained fixed on the body, on the girl. She forced her eyes to close, but the image of the body was seared into her mind, refusing to fade. Giving up any thought of sleep, she continued to chew the tough jerky, her jaw working mindlessly.
When evening fell again, she would slip away, but not before visiting the local tavern to gather information about the stranger. Afterward, she would abandon this place, leaving the body behind. By the time the moon climbed high into the sky once more, there would be no trace of her. She would be long gone, leaving only a lifeless body for someone else to find.
