"So, what's your name?"
Damian and the swordsman sat deep in the forest, huddled around a small fire he had built not long ago. The flames burned in the center of a small gap in the trees that could hardly be called a clearing, as the branches overhead still blocked out all view from above. They were likely safe from their pursuers by this point, but Damian didn't mind the extra cover.
"Damian," she replied quietly. "Damian Sires."
Hours had passed. The sky was grey and just between the trees, the horizon in the east was tainted pink, a hint of the daylight soon coming. Damian wasn't tired. No, she thought, that was a lie. She was exhausted, her eyelids seemed to be made of lead, and her rump was sore from the long ride, gentled though it had been by the magic that masked their flight. She simply couldn't fall asleep, no matter how much she wanted to. Her thoughts lay like syrup on her mind, far too thick and sticky for her to escape them.
"My name is Domino," the swordsman added.
Damian sat before the fire, knees pulled up close to her chin and arms wrapped around them, gazing into the flickering flames absently. She glanced over at the swordsman with his words. He kneeled, still poking at the fresh flames with a stick to keep the fire stoked. Behind him, the horse she had taken from Aether slept, its head lying on the ground, its mouth foaming, and its overworked legs still trembling.
Damian's gaze fixed on Domino as silence settled over their campsite. The light from the fire was meager and the creeping dawn did little to augment it, but it was the clearest view she'd seen of him yet. He was older than her, maybe seven or eight years, and his eyes seemed much wiser and more hardened than the rest of him let on. He stood a full head taller than her, with a large and powerful build like an archer. His face was rugged, but not weather-stripped, a soft moccasin tan giving his skin a healthy glow. Forest green hair brushed back from his forehead down to his shoulder blades over the collar of the black cloak that circled him. Beneath it he wore light brown trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, leather gloves and boots, and a boiled leather vest laced up the front with black thread. A scuffed and faded satchel hung over his shoulder, to his side hung the scabbard hiding his black blade, and the bottom of the bloodstone amulet peeked out from beneath the cloak.
She had seen how skilled he was with his long falchion, but he bore no standard and no armour aside from the leather vest. The hilt of his sword was golden with a ruby in the pommel and crossguard and the grip wrapped with dark leather. Intricate markings were etched into the underside of the crossguard just before it ended in sweeping curves below the grip, with similar shapes on the underside of the pommel. It was a beautiful sword, but it offered no hint of his affiliation either. He was a mercenary.
With a sigh, she focused on the fire again, gazing into its depths as if she could find the answer to some mystery there. It helped her to focus on abstract things, unimportant things, things with only physical presence. She wanted to be that fire. Burning bright and strong, a beacon of light and warmth where needed and savage to those who incurred her wrath. But she had no light or warmth for herself, let alone anyone else, and she felt like the ash beneath the dying wood, feeding someone else's fire. The fire that had destroyed her. Tears obstructed her vision as she saw another fire instead of the flames that now burned before her.
"Are you hungry?" Domino asked, startling her out of her reverie. Fighting back the tears, she looked to him. A loaf of bread was in his hands. He broke it and offered half to her.
"Thanks," she whispered, glad for the distraction. She focused on the bread in her hands and brought it to her mouth, but found she couldn't eat. She didn't feel hungry and the thought of taking a bite, comforting as it looked and felt in her hand, formed a lump in her throat that prevented her from ever doing so. Her vision blurred with tears again as she gazed deeply into the twisted shapes of the broken loaf. As much as she tried to concentrate on the distraction, the reason why she was so intent on it loomed large behind it, constantly threatening to take over her mind and rip apart the tiny piece of sanity she'd found for the moment.
Her voice choked, she handed the bread back and uttered, "I'm sorry, I'm not hungry."
"That's alright," Domino answered unquestioningly.
Damian pulled her legs tighter about her as she tried to set her mind on distractions, but the pain lying behind the distractions only grew. She tried to silence her mind, but it wouldn't stop flashing images across her eyes and whispering questions in her ears. Wouldn't stop reminding her of being attacked and chased miles out of town by monsters. She tried to leave her thoughts there, as that was frightening enough and the fear hurt less than the loss, but trying to concentrate for that reason weakened her mind against the reminder she didn't want. She tried to fight it, but her tired mind couldn't defeat it and crueler thoughts overwhelmed her.
The tears broke free of her eyes and flowed down her face. She buried her head in her knees and sobbed, out of control. She was lost. She was alone. She had nothing to her name but the clothes on her back, which weren't even enough for the season. She was being pursued by monsters who had a distinct interest in her and a high enough intelligence to have had her, had Domino not had his amulet. She had no home, no life, no friends, and no family.
Her father was dead.
Her sobs took on a whining pitch she didn't entirely like, but entirely couldn't avoid as they grew stronger, jolting her body with each gasp of breath.
She had nowhere to go and nothing she could use to start her life over. Everything had been taken from her in one terrible instant.
Her home had been destroyed.
Domino laid a hand on her shoulder, but she barely felt it. All she felt was the world weighing heavily down on her, pushing at her in all directions and choking her breath as if she was drowning, caught up in a riptide of grief and loss.
"I don't know," she coughed out between sobs, "what I'm going to do." Horrible images swam across her blurry eyes. Fire and death and fear. Domino's gloved hand grasped her arm with comforting firmness.
"Don't worry about that," he stated, his deep, earthy voice penetrating through her pain. "I'll do what I can to help you." Damian managed to raise her head enough to look at him. Crystal blue eyes gazed back at her steadily.
Part of her wanted to stop, warned her that she didn't know this man, but she was so desperate for some kind of comfort, any at all, that she threw herself against him, leaning her head against the hard leather of his shoulder. He put his arms around her and they sat there together, Damian sobbing into him.
His arms were warm and somehow, despite all her sorrow, she felt safe in his hands. His grasp felt closer than all the pain weighing down on her. His arms kept the world at bay. She curled in closer to him, afraid to let go, afraid because he was the only thing she had to hold on to. She didn't look in his eyes. She feared that if she did, she would meet a reality in which he didn't have anything to give her, or perhaps had nothing he wanted to give her, or that he wanted something from her that she couldn't give. If she just stayed here, buried in his chest and arms, she could pretend he was anything she wanted him to be. Even now, even when she'd had nobody to do this with in her life, she felt as if she'd been doing this for years, and her heart didn't feel so heavy anymore.
But it seemed that her strength seeped out of her with her tears, and before she realized what had happened, she was asleep.
Damian awoke on a carpet of leaves. She felt a moment of panic, not recognizing her surroundings. A dark weight settled in the pit of her stomach when she remembered why she was here. Not willing to rise and face the world again, she simply glanced around.
Without knowing which direction she faced, Damian didn't know how long she had been asleep, though the sunlight shining through the branches was slanted slightly. Ahead of her, the horse grazed in a clearing, sunlight gleaming on its flanks. Its saddle, saddlebags, and bridle had been removed and a rope halter tied it to a tree nearby, showing its markings clearer. Its golden brown coat was accented with a splash of white over its shoulders, white stockings, mane, and tail, and a stripe down the top of its head. Though it tore at the grass ravenously, it looked far healthier than it had when they had come to this part of the woods.
Suddenly, memories of the attack returned to Damian. She couldn't fight them and just let the tears flow. She cried for her father, she cried for the townspeople she never gave herself the chance to know, she cried for her lost opportunities, she cried for her having no chance of rebuilding any sort of life for herself, she cried for her own loneliness and helplessness and hopelessness. She cried until her eyes burned and her throat had constricted so much that she could hardly swallow.
Half an hour had passed by the time she cried all the tears she had. She felt no better, only numb. Finally, she sat up. The cool spring breeze met the arm she had been leaning on with a chill and suddenly, she realized why she had been comfortable lying down in only her sleeveless sundress. The mercenary's black cloak covered her.
Damian glanced over her shoulder. Domino sat at the base of a tree some paces away, looking at her. Slowly, she stood, ignoring the leaves that clung to her dress, and approached him, swinging the cloak off her shoulders as she did.
"Hang on to it," he stated, stopping her. "You look cold." Damian paused. After a moment, she covered herself with the cloak again and continued, kneeling on the ground near him. The sound of the horse grazing behind Damian became clear as silence settled over them. Dust drifted lazily through the rays of sunlight streaming through the tree branches. The tart smell of the forest filled Damian and no thoughts came into her mind.
The swordsman eventually broke the stillness by opening his satchel. He retrieved the broken loaf of bread he had offered her that morning and held it out to her again.
"Thanks," she uttered as she took it, her voice weak. She still didn't relish the act of eating, but when the first bite settled in her stomach, she realized how hungry she was and easily consumed the rest of the loaf. The woods grew quiet again when she finished and her eyes traveled about the swordsman, distracted. The horse's equipment sat at the base of the tree he leaned against, beneath the saddle blanket hanging over a branch just above it. At his feet were the ashes of the fire he had built earlier and beside him lay his satchel and the double belt holding his sword and scabbard. He looked so much less intimidating without all his equipment hanging off him. Without the cloak, the bloodstone amulet stood out starkly against his dark leather vest.
"Will you be alright?" he asked. Habit wanted Damian to respond affirmatively, but her aching eyes and the lump in her throat wouldn't allow her to force the word out.
Finally, she answered, "I don't know." She raised her gaze to his. Though he betrayed little emotion, she could see the sympathy in those topaz blue eyes. She tried to picture those serene eyes following the black blade of his long falchion. For how dark it had been when she met him, it was hard to imagine the calm man that now sat before her as the warrior she had met the previous night. What she couldn't forget, however, was how safe she had felt in his arms. She looked away quickly, a pang of mourning shooting through her at the loss of her father mixed with nervousness at how casually close she had been to Domino earlier. Trying to shift her thoughts, Damian looked around again.
"Where are we?" she inquired.
"South of Aether," he responded. He pointed in the direction of the sunlight. "Destin River is about a mile that way." Damian looked through the forest where he'd indicated, but between the hills and trees, she could see no sign of the river.
"How long was I asleep?" she continued. Shading his eyes, he looked up to the sky hidden behind the branches of the trees above them.
"About eight hours," he told. Damian's golden eyes returned to him. Eight hours she had lied here and he had not left?
"You... stayed with me?" she wondered. A sad expression crossed his face.
"I wasn't about to abandon you," he remarked. "Certainly not at a time like this." A long pause followed and Damian relived the experiences of the previous night. She remembered vividly how he had calmed her when he found her and fought for her without question, risking life and limb against the humanlike monsters that had pursued her. Even in the moment when the horse fled and he could have done the same, he went back for her, took her to safety, and kept watch over her while she rested. It hadn't even occurred to Damian until this moment how much he had done for her and asked nothing in return.
Finally, Damian stated, "Thank you... for all your help." For the first time, she saw him smile. It was a small smile, tinged with sadness, but the forest seemed brighter for it all the same.
"I'm glad I could help," he replied. Silence echoed through the forest. The muffled tearing sound of the horse pulling up large mouthfuls of grass rang behind Damian. Leaves rustled in a gentle breeze and a robin flew in to a near by branch, its light voice filling the clearing. She slipped the swordsman's cloak down below her shoulders, the afternoon air growing warm.
"So, what do you want to do now?" he ventured. Damian shook her head, gazing unfocused into the trees around them.
"I don't know," she responded. "I don't know what I can do. I have no money, nor anything worth any amount of it." Her answer came out like a flood, unrestrained, as she put words to the worries that had been plaguing her since she woke up. "I don't know any trades and I'm probably too old to be taken on as an apprentice, and I don't know anyone who can help me who wasn't also attacked or killed by monsters." Tears threatened to form behind her eyes, but she blinked them back. Miserable as she felt, she was tired of crying. She let out a raspy sigh, her hands balling into tight fists on her lap. Her heart felt small and hollow.
After a long moment, Domino's gloved hand grasped her own. She raised her eyes to him.
"Don't worry about that," he offered. "We'll find a way to get you on your feet again." Damian managed a weak smile and brought his hand up to her face. This time, she felt the reluctance as his hand touched her, but she needed the comfort too much to draw back. It was a small gesture, but knowing that she wasn't fully alone in this dark time of her life gave her courage. She could only hope, she thought ruefully, that it would be enough.
Damian attempted to express her thanks, but her voice came out hoarse. Clearing her throat, she asked instead, "Do you have anything to drink?" The swordsman pulled his hand back and reached into his satchel.
"I have a waterskin, but there isn't much left in it," he answered, retrieving the skin. "I was going to refill it soon." He glanced at the skin, then offered it to Damian. "Would you like to refill it at the river? I'll see if I can catch a hare or a bird for dinner." Damian nodded, taking the waterskin. She didn't know if he only wanted her away, but she appreciated the time to herself regardless. As much as she needed support, she couldn't help feeling uncomfortable with touching him again.
Before she had left the clearing, Domino added, "You might take the horse, too, if you'd like. She's probably thirsty as well." Damian glanced at the horse, considering the animal's gender while it stared at her with its big black eyes. Untying the end of the rope halter, she lead it toward the river as well.
The journey was long and slow through the thick of the forest, but Damian relished the peaceful trek. Birds chirped and squirrels scolded around her, but beyond that, only the tread of boot and hoof filled the air. Damian almost didn't need Domino's cloak at all and the fresh smells of the forest invigorated her.
As with her hunger, Damian didn't realize how thirsty she was until she drank. She and the horse spent a full ten minutes quenching their thirst at the leafy bank of the river. When she was done, she gazed down at the water and her reflection. Her golden eyes stood out starkly against the shadowed skin of her face. She looked away with a shiver. Looking into the eyes of the creatures that had attacked Aether was like looking in a mirror for her. She had never seen such eyes outside of a looking glass and the thought gave her chills. She could feel, somehow, the same pulse of energy that she had flung at them swam inside them.
It was magic, came a voice in her head and she wasn't sure if it was hers or her late father's. Damian glanced at the water again.
Slowly, she reached her hand forward and dipped the tips of her fingers into the river. She felt her blood flow like the water lapping her skin. Raising her arm, she lifted her hand out. Water trailed after each of her fingers and thumb, flowing liquidlike but reaching unnaturally out of the river toward her hand. She spread her fingers out, her hand flat, and the trails of water merged together into a sphere, rippling gently and reflecting sunlight back into the river. A pause sounded and the horse relieved itself.
Finally, Damian relaxed her hand. The sphere of water fell and splashed back into the river. She sighed uneasily.
Her father had always told her that magic was evil. She had never wanted to believe it, especially since she knew that somewhere in the kingdom were schools that taught people to use magic. Such facilities wouldn't be allowed to exist if it was such a vile art, she had tried to tell herself. But seeing those creatures in town, with eyes yellow like hers and magic inside them, she felt very afraid of her own abilities. And now that her father couldn't tell her to be wary of magic anymore, somehow its danger seemed far more real.
Clouds rolled over the sun and a breeze sent goosebumps up Damian's arms. Standing, she took up the end of the horse's rope halter and began to lead it back to the camp Domino had set up for them.