Crafting A Path

In her attempt to dry herself with the skimpy cloth, she only grew even more frustrated and glared at the fabric before dropping it on the floor, landing with a squelch.

She picked the clothes Amwell had given her. She looked down at her unflattering attire, thinking she would probably look better dressed in tent cloth. She half shrugged at her thoughts and ripped a piece of cloth from her sleeve, and grunted at the sharp pain in her chest as she pulled on the small rag.

She groaned, wrapped the cloth around her hand and picked up the sword. She didn't care any longer about herself. It was futile. After losing Azra and Ian, she'd returned to where she'd started, alone with no place to call home and no family.

Staying in the valley wasn't an option. She looked at the liantur stone one more time and wondered if it would work on Ian, but again, if it would, the Shaddow Lords would have done it already. She frowned and fisted the stone. She looked around, trying to find a door. She walked to the nearest wall, and by now, she knew blood would open any door that wasn't visible to the naked eye.

Slowly brushing her fingertip against the obsidian stone, she felt the prick, and a door opened further down from where she was.

Gripping tight on the sword, Iris stepped through the door, ready. She was prepared to step on anyone who would stand in her way. And she didn't have to wait too long. Owston appeared in front of her, impassive with his hand on the sword hilt.

" I'm sorry!" he says half-heartedly, but she already knew he wasn't even close to feeling sorry.

" I'm not!" Iris said deadpan without halting her steps, dragging the blade's tip across the floor.

Amwell appeared out of thin air. Neat trick. Impressive.

" Iris, you have to understand. It is not safe out there." Amwell tried to placate standing in front of her; she didn't hold any particular expression other than a blank and boring same look as all the others.

Iris laughed " Safe!" she took a sharp breath and swallowed the pain, and quickly found that she couldn't laugh because of the acute shooting pain.

She raised her sword. She had to put in more effort than she thought she needed. The pain in her chest wasn't relenting. Iris grunted when more Lords appeared, her breath hitched a little, but she hid it behind a smirk.

" I'm leaving the valley! I'm not safe anywhere, not in here, not out there. So you either get the fuck out of my way or" Iris paused and shoved the stone in her boot, and she regretted that move instantly as the sharp pain in her chest returned tenfold this time.

She swallowed a grunt. It wasn't a good time to curl up in pain " I will have to walk on a path made out of your corpses!" Iris menacingly stood straight and hid the pain behind a carefully crafted wicked smile.

The Lords didn't move or take any notice of her threat. They probably weren't taking her seriously. Then there was no other choice then.

" Walk you it is then," she replied to her remark, waddling from one foot to another, ready to begin the battle with the Lords.

None of the fuckers moved. They stood just there silently mocking her with their impassive look.

Without further ado she charged towards them, huffing and grunting at the sharp needles poking in her ribs and lungs. She swung the sword, and Owston crossed her blade just above his head. Amwell drew hers and tried to stab her in the foot. She knew they wouldn't kill her, just injure and if things got terrible probably, she would lose a limb at worst.

Iris moved her foot, and the blade collided against the obsidian floor. While she took a step back and pulled the sword back to her he chest. Iris swung the sword again without delay at Amwell's arm the fell on the floor along with her blade. She huffed and swung her sword again, feeling somewhat bad that she went for Amwell. She had been the only one who had shown some kindness. Amwell went out with a puff before the sword even touched her.

She turned her attention to the remaining Lords. They couldn't die. She had to keep them down long enough for her to leave the cursed Valley. She took a deep breath and winced at the pang in her chest. She drew on an arc and cut through Owstons chest, slicing him half from his shoulder to his waist. With no time to waste, she carried on swinging her sword left and right as the Lords put on what appeared to be a minimum effort to try and stop her. Bodies dropped one at a time, sometimes two. She couldn't tell if she was moving too fast or if the Lords weren't trying to stop her.

When she reached the last one, he just shrugged and vanished like Amwell did. Huffing and puffing, she slid the sword into the makeshift sheath and pulled the stone out of her boot. She looked around one last time. She couldn't wait any longer. Iris walked to the first wall. She thought it would take her in the right direction, put her hand on the wall, and didn't have to wait long. The prick came, and the door opened.

The walk through the ridge had gone without too much trouble. She hoped that she was heading the right way. A familiar-looking scanty corridor stood in front of her, but its direction was opposite to the other one. Nodding to herself, Iris entered the hall and stepped out of it on the other side of the valley.

She glanced one more time at the Valey. Dakran was right. It took her less than she had thought. She could see in the distance the flickering lights of a camp. That meant she wasn't more than two days away from the Gaerwen. Iris hissed. Now that her blood had settled, the pain returned sharper than before. Her feet weren't in better shape either, but she could deal with minor cuts and bruises. Iris moved her feet, tightly fisting on the stone with one hand and the other on the hilt of her blade. The only thing that lacked from the picture where the shikari. If she had to fight one of those, she was done for. Apprehensively, she looked around, trying to find any signs of the shikari. She wasn't in any condition to fight anything or anyone right now, but heck, if worse came to worse, it was either them or her. Preferably them. Iris frowned.