I'd come up with several horrible scenarios of what could happen to me while Mauri and I had traveled the road, but despite that I still wasn't prepared for a situation like this—at least not so soon. Somewhere below the fear, I wasn't at all surprised that this had happened really. I should've expected it and I felt as though I had no one to blame but myself.

But that's not true is it? I have someone else to blame as well, don't I?

No.

I wanted to blame Mauri, and to a certain extent I definitely did, but I didn't know the whole situation yet. For all I knew, they could've attack and killed her before kidnapping me. There was no way of knowing for certain with the position that I was in, though the woman who stood over me mentioned something about another group coming back.

It wasn't a very heartening prospect, and admittedly it made my worry for Mauri all that much stronger despite the bitterness I felt for what happened to me on her watch. I didn't really have any time to dwell on the matter as the dirty cloth was yanked from my mouth by the blonde haired woman.

"Okay, let's get this chat over with, shall we?" the woman began, ignoring my coughing and sputtering, "we don't have all night and I have better things to do."

I spat a couple of times, trying to get the foul taste out of my mouth, but it wouldn't leave completely. I gave up and looked at the blonde woman, who looked back with a patient smile despite her words. I considered for a moment what to say as I watched her; gave a slight tug at the ropes binding my hands behind my back and found them tight and unyielding, then spat one more time and swallowed nervously.

Might as well do as she says for now. If things get more dangerous than they are now, I can try to fight, but I'd really rather not considering I don't really know how...

"So... so what do you want to know?" I croaked out, my jaw still sore and my mouth somewhat dry from being forced open by the cloth, "a-and if you don't mind me asking, who—gah!"

The woman made it clear my questions weren't appreciated with a sharp and sudden slap across the face, though it didn't hurt nearly as much as the last one had. I winced and my head jerked to the side from the impact, but really it just took me by surprise more than anything. I blinked a few times and looked back to see the woman with that same patient, almost playful smile.

"I know you're curious about your situation, but I'll be the only one asking questions for now," she considered me for a moment before giving a careless shrug, "though I guess you need something to call me, eh?" she tossed her loose braid of hair and sighed as if the whole thing was one big nuisance, "name's Havik Kultaina, you can just call me Havik."

She gestured in the general direction of the others milling around the camp and I followed her arm. The lanky man who I'd first seen when I woke up was nowhere to be found, most likely having gone into one of the tents at some point.

The tall, muscular woman and thin but heavily armored man were now watching me and Havik from where they stood. The large woman eyed me warily and the man licked his lips nervously, constantly shifting his watery eyes from me to Havik to some point off in the distance.

"The man you saw before with the strange eyes is Del; the less said about him, the better in my opinion," Havik continued, catching my attention once again, "the redhead over there is Haelda, strongest damn woman I ever met. The one who looks like he's about to piss himself is Calder," she turned to the man in question and frowned before calling out, "oi, Calder! The hell's got you so damn spooked now?"

The man jumped at the sound of his name, and gave a stuttering, barely audible response. Haelda frowned, shook her head and turned to Havik.

"He believes the others take too long," she replied. Her voice was loud, but there was a surprising softness in the thick accent she spoke, "says he can hear ominous wails or some such; whispered voices in the trees that speak of coming death, but I hear nothing," she turned and looked at the man with thinly veiled disdain, "he speaks more of his spiritual nonsense. Do not mind him, Goszpha."

"It's true! Dark and terrible voices from the depths of Tartarus speak to me!" Calder suddenly snapped in a high, reedy voice. His eyes were wide and fearful as he turned and stabbed a finger in my direction, "ever since she was dragged into our camp I could hear them! They say she's been tainted! They say she carries a horrifying curse! A hunger for—"

"Shut your Goddesses damned mouth, you raving zealot!" Havik snarled at Calder, "or by my ancestors I swear I will come over there, tear off that armor and gut you like the cowardly pig you are! Understand?"

The poor man flapped his mouth silently for a few short moments, his eyes darting from Havik to me, then back to Havik. He clamped his mouth shut, swallowed and gave a quick, jerky nod. He gave me one last fearful look and slunk off into the tent behind him, his armor clanking loudly with each step. Haelda shook her head again, wedged her sword into the ground blade first, and leaned on the hilt as she returned to watching Havik and I with a passive, almost bored expression.

"I don't know why I bothered dragging him along," Havik muttered, staring after the armored man with a frown, "can't fight worth a shit and all he does is preach and rant about unseen devils."

I barely registered the woman's words, busy as I was gaping open mouthed at where Calder once stood. His words ran through my head and the implications sent a chill down my spine. The atmosphere around me suddenly felt much colder than it had a moment ago despite me sitting so close to the fire.

A terrible curse? And what did he mean by 'hunger'? A hunger for what? He said I was tainted... what does that—

"Sorry 'bout that," Havik sighed in annoyance. She turned back to me with a helpless shrug, "Calder's a man of... intense faith you see. Not sure why he chose to join a group of bandits of all things, or why I let him, but he thinks he can save our souls or some such rot."

Though she'd thoroughly dismissed Calder's worries, I noticed Havik cast a concerned glance out towards the trees anyway. It didn't last long, and a brief moment later she returned her attention to me and smiled her mocking smile.

"Anyhow, while we're on the subject of introductions, what do they call you, missy? Can't say I've ever seen your like around these parts—or anywhere in Vale for that matter," she leaned forward with a look of profound interest, "you an outsider from across the sea?"

I struggled for a response to that, knowing full well how ridiculous the truth would sound, but unable to come up with a believable lie. I'd read up on some of the other locations around the world and a bit about the various tribes, races and cultures, but nothing stuck out in my mind at that moment.

"My name is... Amethyst Sparkle, I... I don't really... remember where I'm from," I replied lamely, but honestly for the most part, "I'm... I was trying to find the answer to that question before you... well..."

"Ah, so that's it then," Havik replied with an understanding nod and pitying smile, "a poor young maiden forced to travel the world on a journey to find her past, is it?" she laughed a beautiful, haunting, mocking laugh, "how romantic! Right out of a Goddesses damned storybook!"

I didn't really know how to react to her laughter, so I frowned and stayed silent. The laughter died out a moment later and she shook her head before scowling at me.

"Seriously? Amethyst Sparkle? Amnesia?" she snorted, "a load of shit is what that is. I ain't no fool, girl, so you'd best try again before I draw a red line across that face of yours, you hear me?"

"I really don't know!" I cried, watching the woman idly spin her knife around by a small metal loop at the bottom of the hilt, "Amethyst isn't my real name. Mauri gave it to me. Before that I was going by Stella, but that isn't it either! The only thing I know was that at least part of my real name was Sparkle. Other than that... I don't know!"

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me, I tried to look as earnest as possible, which wasn't very hard to do with the woman flipping that knife around and around. She hummed in thought; her narrowed eyes and pursed lips combined with the twirling knife made it look as though she was trying to decide how large a piece she wanted to carve out of a steak.

After a long, heart pounding minute, she shrugged and sheathed the knife in its holster. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, silently thanking whatever Goddesses these people worshiped as Havik spoke again.

"Alright fine," she began, "I don't quite buy it, but it's not really that important and there's other more important questions to ask," she gave me a level look, "...like what you and the green haired bitch were doing camping out in front of this forest."

Unnecessary name calling aside, I made note of the fact that the woman seemed to be aware of Mauri. In hindsight that seemed obvious considering my current circumstances, but what had happened to Mauri? Did these men Havik mentioned ambush her and drag me away while she was distracted?

That's... actually pretty likely now that I think about it, and if Mauri is as good with a sword as I've been told, it's no wonder the rest of Havik's group is taking so long to get back. Hopefully she's okay...

The thought did a great deal to ease the bitterness I'd felt towards Mauri for my kidnapping, but that still left the worry, which now had only gotten worse. Havik's question at least was easy enough to answer, so I focused on that for the time being.

"We—Mauri and I—we came to see Qaedis the Seeker," I explained, "I was told he lived in a mansion somewhere in the forest and that he could get me what I needed... for a price."

"Fair enough," Havik replied with a single nod, "that old man certainly does live out here somewhere," she smirked, "would you believe the lot of us had a similar notion? Why, that's exactly why we're camped out here, you see. That old bastard owes me and I aim to collect," her eyes lit up suddenly, "ah, but that brings me to my final question!"

I watched with a fair amount of dread as Havik jumped up and walked back around the flickering fire to retrieve my sword. I'd known she would bring the Spellblade up at some point, and while it was easy enough to just say it was a fake, I had a feeling she'd take it either way. This was exactly what Darmund had warned me about but again, I hadn't expected to run into this situation so soon in my journey.

My horrible luck continues...

"Del and Haelda didn't... quite manage to collect the rest of your stuff when we nabbed you," Havik grunted as she picked up my sword and returned to my side of the fire. She plopped back down onto the ground and set the blade in her lap with a weary sigh, "...but if this is what I think it is, then I couldn't give a shit less what they left behind. So tell me, Amethyst Sparkle, is this what I think it is?"

She held up the oaken scabbard by one strap as if to present it to me and smiled. I looked at it, feeling a sudden, almost overwhelming urge to break free of my restraints and take it back by any means necessary. My arms tensed behind my back and I felt the magic gather within me, but I swallowed and held myself in check with an effort.

I could probably do it too if I tried, but...

My gaze briefly flicked towards Haelda standing by the tent and watching over us like some dark and menacing sentinel. I thought about the other two men in the tents and Havik herself. I thought about what would happen if I did decide to break free and fight my way out.

I might be built for it, but I'm no warrior... not really. If it was Havik alone I could definitely do something about this, but would my magic be enough for all four? Could I react fast enough? If I attacked Havik who knows what she'd do, and that red haired woman would probably be on me in an instant. The thin one looks like a coward, but he has a rifle and I don't know if I'm fast enough to stop a bullet with my telekinesis. I don't know how complete my regeneration is or if I even still have it, but it maybe it's better to try while there's still only four of them?

More and more of these thoughts swirled about in my head as I turned my nervous gaze back to Havik and the sword. Apparently she'd noticed my discomfort, because she lowered the scabbard back down, narrowed her eyes and scowled.

"It wouldn't be smart of you to act on whatever you're cooking up in that thick head of yours, missy," Havik hissed, "I'm warning you right now, it won't end well for you," she raised the sword back up, "why don't you tell me more about this and maybe we can work something out regarding your release, eh? How about it? Sound good?"

My mouth ran dry and I swallowed again.

"I..."

I was suddenly very aware of my pounding heart and the difficulty I had forming a sentence. My eyes were glued to the sword in Havik's hand, and that overwhelming desire to attack her and take it back flared up again. It was as though the urge wouldn't let me go now that it had ahold of me.

What's going on? What's wrong with me? It's almost like back when I was at Rosalyn's house except...

"I... that sword is... i-it's—nngh..."

I lurched forward slightly, my head swimming and the world spinning crazily for a brief instant.

Havik leaned back a fraction before slowly lowering the blade and frowning at me. Nearby I could almost feel Haelda tensing up from over where she stood. I chanced another glance in her direction and sure enough, her eyes had narrowed dangerously and the grip on her sword had tightened considerably as she stared back.

I could feel a headache coming on and there was a strange coldness beginning to crawl its way down my spine. I turned back to the sword and shivered involuntarily. My breath began to quicken and my vision seemed to narrow until all I could see was that indigo colored scabbard.

My arms and legs shifted with growing restlessness as I thought about the odd pink and violet blade inside that sheath. Havik was saying something, but I could scarcely hear her above the sound of blood pumping in my ears. Something strange was happening, that much I knew for certain, but I found it harder and harder to care about anything else other than that blade.

A bright flash of metal glinted in the firelight somewhere in my vision and a sudden searing pain across my cheek made me jerk back with a startled cry.

The world snapped back into focus in an instant.

I winced and looked up to see Havik crouched forward, her face grim and wary. I thought I could even see a trace of fear in her golden eyes, like she knew just as well as I did that something was wrong—that something was about to change, and maybe not for the better. My wide eyes followed the path of her outstretched arm down to the knife in her hand. The tip of the blade shone bright red with what I could only assume was blood.

My blood...

I could feel it now, the stinging pain enveloping the side of my face. I would've reached up to touch my cheek had it not been for the rope binding my hands. As it was, I could feel something wet and warm trickle down my cheek and splat against the top of my thigh. Almost as if in a trance, I slowly looked down to see a small spot of red blood on my leggings, oddly bright in the darkness.

That cold sensation running down my spine began to spread throughout my body as I watched more bright red spots appear. The pain began to fade, but the flow of blood didn't cease, nor did I have any desire to look away. There was a horrible sort of anticipation building up within me. I thought I could hear a voice somewhere, whispering something in my ear, but I couldn't be sure I'd heard anything at all.

The world was beginning to slip away again and the only thing that mattered this time was the steady drip of my own precious life blood hitting my leg. The bright red color seemed to leak away with each drop, growing dimmer and dimmer until it was a murky grey. Then I heard a soft hiss and felt a warm tingling in my cheek before the dripping ceased.

"No... not my blood," I heard myself mutter absently, "not my blood..."

My head grew fuzzy and it became harder to think. I had no idea why I'd said those words, but they felt right. This wasn't my blood, I knew that for a fact, but I didn't know why or how. Something was wrong... very wrong, but at that moment I couldn't put my finger on just what it was.

"Hungry," I heard myself grumble absently, "h-hungryyyy..."

And I was hungry.

A deep clawing hunger began to gnaw at me, but it wasn't any normal hunger and I knew it. Instinctively I knew it wasn't the kind of hunger that could be sated with the sort of food that could be digested. This was something else; a dark, primal hunger for something I couldn't quite grasp with my own two hands.

Or maybe you could...

I don't know if I'd thought it, said it aloud, or if it was that whisper of a whisper that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. It was getting louder though, that much was clear. I could hear it over the other, distant, less important voices that muttered and shouted and howled with horror, with anger, with fear, with—

CRACK!

I gave a howl of my own as something ripped through my right arm and sent waves of white hot agony washing up and down the whole limb. This time the pain only lasted a few moments, but it did bring me some clarity, if only a little at least. Then I looked down and saw that same grey tar-like substance ooze out of what should've been a bloody hole in my forearm.

I watched fascinated as a shiny, bronze bullet slowly pushed its way out of my arm, along with even more grey tar. It eventually popped out and clattered to the ground and once it was out, the wound began to hiss and bubble and shrink. The rapid trickle of thick grey tar grew thinner and thinner until it halted altogether.

Someone had shot me, and in a matter of seconds, the wound had completely closed on its own.

I looked from the smooth, unbroken skin on my forearm to where Havik had been crouched before me and blinked. At some point she'd retreated several paces away from the fire and now had her shortsword drawn. She'd taken some sort of lowered stance; her legs spread at an angle and one arm outstretched and holding the blade tight.

Her expression was just as wary as before, and I could see the uncertainty clear as the night sky now, but there was also a certain preparedness—a sureness of self in the way she held her sword. She was ready to strike at a moment's notice should the need arise and had full confidence in her ability to wield a blade.

When did she get over there?

"I knew it... I knew it..." someone muttered in a shaky, reedy voice, "she's been tainted... a poison... a curse that'll be the death of us all. The voices told me such a thing would come to pass. None of you listened, but I heard it... and now... now it's too late... too late.."

I slowly turned to see Calder standing a little ways behind Haelda. The man was visibly shaking, his armor rattling slightly and the raised rifle unsteady in his trembling hands. We locked eyes briefly and I felt a strange twinge of something at the cold fear on his face.

Was it surprise? Guilt? Shock? Joy? Amusement? Satisfaction? Or maybe my own fear reflected back at me?

It could've been all of those things, or it could've been none of them, I had no idea at that moment. Haelda's expression more or less matched that of Havik though with less uncertainty and far more grim resolve. Like Havik, she held herself in a low stance, but both arms were held out before her, each hand gripped around the hilt of her massive broadsword.

And then there was me, still sitting bound and helpless in front of the fire. Other than Calder's fearful mutterings and desperate whispered prayers to the Goddesses, no one else spoke a word, and in that silence the strange hunger began to grow once again. It started to push the world around me back out, and I felt myself squirm with increasing agitation, itching to be unbound and free to...

Free to what exactly? Feed?

Feed... kill... hurt... slaughter... break... maim... feed... rend... FEED...

My eyes fell to the abandoned Spellblade a short distance away and I stared at it. I heard Havik's sharp intake of breath but ignored it and focused on that soft, alluring whisper. A soft groan escaped my lips and I gave a pleasant shudder at the bitter cold coursing through my veins, wrapping around my heart, my lungs, my brain.

Stab... rip... slash... massacre... raze... slaughter... feed... FEED...

Somewhere far, far away, I felt the ropes binding my arms, legs, and wrists loosen and fall to the ground. There was a wordless shout of fear off to the side somewhere and the crack of another gunshot rang out. I felt something whiz past my nose, but I only had eyes for the weapon before me.

I reached out a hand, tentative at first but with growing urgency as the strange hunger began to overwhelm me. In that moment I'd never needed anything more badly in my life than to get my hands on that scabbard and the blade within. Just a bit more and I'd—

An animalistic roar ripped through the night, freezing my already cold blood. The crunch of quick and heavy footsteps pounding against the dirt filled my ears and I whipped around just in time to catch a glimpse of crimson hair in the orange glow of the fire; the silver gleam of a pauldron and the bright flash of sharpened metal bearing down on me.

My body acted before my mind could process what was happening, but that wasn't enough to completely save me. I ducked and rolled to one side, but felt something cold, hard and sharp bite into my leg as I did so. The burning pain was gone by the time I'd clumsily lifted myself onto my hands and knees, the sensation replaced by the soft hiss and bubble of mending skin.

I looked up and saw Haelda—her teeth grit, her bright green eyes blazing, her entire face contorted into a furious snarl. As I looked into those eyes, I was reminded of some vicious wolf or ferocious bear, eager to tear into its prey.

I found myself laughing openly at the thought.

The hulking woman growled, raised her sword and charged again but that only made my toothy grin grow all the wider. I knew something she didn't know and the whispers told me to share that secret with Haelda—with all of them. No more hiding what I could do, no more cowering and pretending like I was some normal creature when I clearly wasn't.

The grey tar pulsing in my veins and the all consuming hunger wouldn't allow it, not anymore. Now was the time for action, now was the time to show them something strange and wonderful and horrifying, now was the time to scratch that incessant itch, to sate that ravenous hunger.

It was like I was in some beautiful dream.

Haelda closed the distance between us in a matter of seconds, her blade raised high and another war cry erupting from her throat. I watched that blade fall, all the force of a speeding cannonball behind the swing. It was an unavoidable, unblockable blow that promised to split my head open and then some.

I watched that blade catch in the air mere inches from my face; smiled as both the sword and its wielder trembled with the effort of continuing its descent. For all of Haelda's grunts and growls and strength and resolve to cut my life short, the sword wouldn't move an inch further.

The bright magenta glow around the sword held it fast, its grip as immovable as a mountain.

"Let go of the sword, Haelda," I whispered sweetly. I raised a glowing hand and gave the blade a slight telekinetic tug, startling Haelda in the process. Her grip on the sword redoubled and I laughed, "stop being stubborn and just let go! It's not yours anymore!"

My voice sounded odd in my own ears, but that didn't matter in the slightest. The only thing that mattered was getting my hands on a weapon—any weapon. It would've been far too easy to simply pop her head like a grape with magic, but I wanted something more personal than that. I wanted a more visceral experience, and for that, I needed steel.

My own sword was lying only a short distance away, but I'd gotten hold of a perfectly good blade already. I tugged at the broadsword again, but the stubborn redhead wouldn't let it go. I narrowed my eyes and frowned at the woman, all mirth bleeding away and annoyance taking its place.

"Alright, if that's what you want..."

"Haelda, behind you!"

Haelda glanced sideways at the sound of Havik's warning, but it was far too late. In that same instant I wrapped the hilt of the Spellblade in my magic and yanked it out of its sheath. Like a magnet, it shot through the air and into one of my waiting hands.

Just the feel of the soft silken grip was enough to send another pleasant tingle down my spine. I started to rise to my feet, blade held out and back as if to swing a horizontal strike. Haelda saw this and—most likely by some instinct honed in battle or perhaps general self-preservation—finally let go of her own sword and leapt away.

With a flick of my wrist I sent the broadsword racing after her and shivered in delight at the satisfying squelch it made as it sank hilt deep into her stomach. I heard Havik cry out, but I only had ears for the choked gurgled bubbling its way out of Haelda's mouth. She stumbled back and grabbed weakly at the hilt sticking out of her, her eyes never leaving mine.

It sounded as though she was trying to say something, but all that came out was a wet cough and a small gout of blood. It dribbled out of her mouth and down her chin before hitting the ground below with a soft plat. Somewhere deep down there was small twinge of horror at what I'd just done, but it was buried beneath the ecstasy of impaling Haelda with her own sword.

That had been immensely satisfying, magic or no, but it still wasn't enough.

"Not enough..." I whispered, my voice hoarse with some dark and terrible emotion, "still hungry..."

I slashed a hand through the air and the blade in Haelda's stomach moved with me, yanking the fatally wounded warrior sideways. Another, stronger pull and the sword ripped itself out of her stomach. She toppled over to one side, hit the ground with a heavy thud, clutched at the open gash in her stomach and rolled about in silent agony for a moment or two, then went still. Silent.

Dead.

Yes... make them bleed... take everything from them... everything...

The voice was a soothing balm on my ears and I was all too happy to let it guide my every action. I let the bloody broadsword drop to the ground and turned my attention to ratty looking man who'd just stepped out of one of the tents. His different colored eyes were wide with disbelief, his sword half drawn, but I didn't give him the chance to prepare.

He cried out in surprise as the blade was torn from his fumbling hands and tossed harmlessly into the trees. I raised my hand to grab the man himself, but was distracted by a shriek of terror. I turned to see Calder throw down his rifle and make a break for it, stumbling away clumsily in his heavy armor. In his haste to get away he tripped and landed face first into the dirt.

I couldn't help but laugh again as I watched him scramble to his feet and attempt to take off once more. Deciding I was done with magic for the moment, I took off after him, a toothy grin on my face and cold blooded murder in my thoughts. He turned and gave another shriek as he saw me closing in, sword raised and giggling like a possessed child.

"No... no!" he half whimpered, half shouted, "Demon! Devil! Goddesses save me from this—"

The Spellblade whistled through the air and smashed into his back with a dull metallic crunch, caving in his armor and sending him sprawling across the ground. It was a precise strike meant to cripple, and cripple it did. Calder lay motionless where he fell, whimpering and unable to move from the shock of the blow.

I walked up to his prone form and kicked him over onto his back. He grunted and gasped and flailed one arm protectively in front of his face while trying to drag himself away from me with the other. It was really all he could do with a broken spine, but in all that armor, he and I both knew he wouldn't make it very far.

"N-No please wait, wait!" he begged, his eyes wide and tearful, "by the Goddesses if there's any humanity left in you, please spare me! I-I'm not a good man, I know that, b-but... but I've always been faithful! I've tried to set these sinners on the right path! Please, I—no! No don—"

I stomped down again and again and again on the man's face with every bit of my weight until I heard the tell-tale crunch of bone giving way beneath the sole of my boot. I stomped a few more times for good measure, chuckling at his silly pleas for mercy all the while.

Humanity?

I wasn't even human to begin with, and yet I was far from what I'd been in a past life. I didn't know what I was anymore, and right then, I didn't care. The 'hows' and 'whys' of it didn't matter in the face of the pleasure and hunger. I just had to keep feeding until I was fully satisfied and everything else would work itself out.

CRACK!

I grunted and stumbled forward and away from Calder's corpse as something hit my shoulder blade. Another crack and another impact, this one hitting my leg and causing me to crumple down to one knee. The pain was immense, but just as short lived as before. Just like last time, the bullets popped out of my skin and the wounds hissed, bubbled, and closed.

I whipped around angrily and saw that Del had retrieved Calder's rifle. He had it aimed at me, but I had something far better than a rifle at my disposal. With a furious growl I raised a glowing hand and tore the rifle away just like the sword before it. He stumbled a few steps, nearly tripped, caught himself at the last moment.

Before he could get too comfortable on his feet I bashed the rifle into the side of his head. He staggered sideways, but I didn't let him fall. I dropped the rifle and grabbed him instead, pulling him screaming towards me and plunging my Spellblade into his gut once he was close enough.

The flat edge at the top of the blade in no way hampered it from sinking effortlessly into the soft flesh below his chestplate. I ripped it out of his floating body and stabbed it back in once, twice, then a third time before pulling it back out, releasing my magic and letting his bloody punctured corpse flop bonelessly to the ground.

As I pushed myself back up I heard a quiet, but still clearly audible gurgle from the man I thought was dead. Del gave a choked gasp, blood bubbling up and leaking out from his mouth. I looked down at him and he looked back up at me, his glossy green and hazel eyes staring into mine with pain, fear and...

Accusation? Hatred?

I suddenly felt very ill, but fought it back long enough to let out a savage cry and slam the blade of my sword down onto his face. The strength of the blow split his skull clean in half and silenced the lanky man for good. I stood there for several seconds, breathing hard and trying to think past the sudden fog that clouded my mind.

No... NO! It's not over yet! There's still more fun to be had... more blood to be shed... feed your bloodlust... kill your enemies... make them suffer! BLEED THEM DRY!

But even the urgent, angry whispers weren't enough to keep me standing. I staggered forward and fell to my knees. My vision swam and my body grew weaker and weaker. The Spellblade fell from my hand, but I could no longer muster the energy to pick it back up.

"Tired... can't..."

My eyes widened and I doubled over, murky grey bile spilling from my mouth and hitting the ground with a wet splat. As I sat there retching violently, I could hear the whispers growing softer and softer in my mind.

No! The golden eyed woman yet lives! She fears you! She hates you! You are vulnerable! She will kill you! She comes even now! You must... you can't... destined...

I groaned and coughed and spat out the last of the nasty grey bile. I tried to stand but found I was too weak; it was all I could do to remain propped up on my shaking hands and knees. The sound of slow, reluctant footsteps caught my attention and I sluggishly raised my head.

My breath caught in my throat and my heart skipped a beat as I spotted the silhouetted form of Havik slowly making her way towards me. Her face was shrouded in shadow but I could guess her intentions by the shortsword gripped tightly in one hand.

"You..."

I could hear the fear and fury, both icy cold in that shaky whisper and it made my stomach twist painfully. Images of the atrocities I'd just committed flashed vividly through my mind and it took everything I had to not vomit again.

Why? Why did I do that? Why did I...

Another image flashed across my mind, that of a dark shape with bright glowing orbs of brilliant gold. My eyes widened in horrified realization and I looked down at the dark grey sick I'd made below me.

Poison... it was the poison... the voices... the whispers—

My thoughts were shattered and I saw stars as Havik's boot smashed into my face and sent me rolling off to one side. Before I had time to recover I felt the cold sting of a blade sink into my unprotected chest. A scream caught in my throat as the thick taste of copper replaced the air in my throat.

It was agony unlike anything I'd ever experienced, and it only got worse when the blade pulled out and stabbed back in. Then once more and again and again. My mind had gone blank with pain, my vision darkened, and all I could do was lie there and suffer the worst pain I'd ever felt.

"You... fucking... demon!" I heard Havik screech between stabs, "should've... killed you... back then... fucking... whore!"

She continued her assault, but the pain began to take a backseat to the fuzziness in my head and I idly wondered if I was regenerating the damage. I couldn't think properly anymore and my consciousness was fading fast, but a pained cry that wasn't my own and the sound of metal clattering against the hard ground made my eyelids flicker open.

Havik stood over me, one hand over a bleeding gash in her arm and the other limp at her side. Her focus was drawn away from me and towards something in the distance. Her face twisted up in rage as she looked back down at me, but another voice somewhere far off made her look back up.

She stood there frozen with indecision for a moment, then snarled angrily, turned and fled off into the forest. I followed her retreating form with my eyes until she was out of sight, then turned to where I'd heard the other voice with no small amount of effort. Another figure was quickly making their way towards me, and the corners of my mouth turned up into a weak smile of relief.

A dozen or so yards away Mauri rushed past the campfire, her entire front, arms and face flecked with blood. Over one shoulder was slung my bag and in both hands she held my rifle. As she came closer she threw the rifle aside and called out to me, but I was already gone.

At least one of us... made it out okay...

Next Chapter: Recollection II – Temptation and Resolve Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 41 Minutes