jesterflame

Strak's quest for self-discovery quickly spirals into chaos as it involves him in a full-blown war. Warriors and mages from across the continent begin hunting him and his companions, including former friends who have turned against them. As the danger intensifies, Strak's party is eventually tracked down by the world's most feared mercenary group, the Innocent Killers, putting their survival in even greater jeopardy.

The Accursed Blessing

Haslow unsheathed his sword, fury burning in his eyes as he advanced toward Reyla. His steps were slow but deliberate, the air around him thick with anger. Every inch closer tightened the knot in my chest.

I stood ready, muscles tense, prepared to engage at any moment. But deep down, I knew the truth: our opponent was far too powerful.

The sound of metal on stone echoed in the tense silence. I blinked in confusion, my breath catching in my throat. Haslow's Dreadclaw Sword lay on the ground. I hadn't seen the attack, hadn't sensed it. My unease deepened.

Haslow turned away from Reyla, the young girl who had come for his life. His back now facing her, he looked at me. His voice was a low growl, filled with resignation.

I couldn't comprehend his words. My mind felt sluggish, like I was trapped in a daze. His expression was hauntingly familiar, a look I'd seen once before—in my brother's eyes, moments before he died saving me from the noble's lapdogs.

He sighed, almost smiling, but it was a hollow gesture. "It was fun traveling with you, boy. But this is where we part ways. We're no match for her. I'd rather it end here."

Panic seized me, my limbs growing heavy as though something was pulling me to the ground. I fought it, pushing against the weight, and before I could be completely subdued, I ran. The runes on my forehead blazed with light, power surging through me as I prepared to strike. Just as I was about to snap my fingers—

A blow struck me hard in the stomach, stealing the breath from my lungs. I crumpled to the ground, gasping, clutching my midsection. Through blurred vision, I expected to see Reyla standing over me. But it wasn't her. It was Haslow.

Even through the pain, I forced the words out. "We can still run, Haz! Why are you doing this?"

He glanced down at me, his face calm but his eyes distant.

"Not this time, Strak. The ones after me... they're not ordinary people."

Behind him, Reyla removed her hat. Revealing what was hidden underneath it. A metallic whip, coiled like a snake, slithered from the top of her head. My mind reeled at the sight—how could they turn such a young girl into a monster?

Haz began to kneel, almost as if to reach out to me. One last time. And then, it happened.

The whip lashed out, striking with the speed of a predator. It wrapped around Haslow's neck and constricted like a python, crushing his throat in an instant. His body jerked violently before collapsing to the floor. Blood splattered across the room, and in moments, Haslow lay lifeless at my feet.

I was drenched in his blood, frozen in place, my heart pounding in my ears. Reyla—or whatever she was—stepped closer. But the voice that spoke was not hers.

A deep, gritty voice of a man filled the air. "Hahaha! The look on your face, boy. I love it!"

His laughter was madness, a sound that clawed at my sanity. As I stared at the nightmare before me, I knew, without a doubt, there was no escape from this hell.

Chapter 0 - Let me go