Vaelmira watched her friend's retreating back, sobbing quietly as the sounds of the pursuers grew deafening. The baying hounds were almost upon her, their eyes gleaming with feral hunger in the moonlight. When Cynthia vanished completely into the gloom, Vaelmira turned. Her face transformed, the grief hardening into a mask of unyielding fury. She drew a slender dagger from her belt, its blade catching the moon's light in a deadly gleam. She stood her ground in the clearing, waiting for the men to reach her.
The first hound exploded from the underbrush, a huge beast with saliva stringing from its jagged fangs. Vaelmira did not flinch. She slid aside with cold elven grace. Her dagger sliced through the air in a single clean arc. The hound let out a strangled yelp and collapsed in a heap of twitching limbs.
More emerged, a whole pack of snarling shadows, but she was already moving. Her feet barely touched the ground as she spun through them. Her dagger flashed again and again. A dance of death carved from years of torment and survival. One after another, the beasts fell silent.
Men stomped into the clearing next, torches spitting sparks and throwing crazed light across the trees. They were rough men, armored in mismatched leather and chain, faces warped by cruelty and greed.
"There she is."
At their front stepped a man with a long beard. He raised a hand and looked at Vaelmira with an expression that carried the ghost of respect. "Lady Vaelmira." He bowed his head. "My apologies. My men should not have released the hounds. But it is the Count's order that we bring you back. He is furious after returning from the royal palace and finding you gone. He slaughtered every servant and guard in his manor because of it. So please come back before more innocent people die because of your stubbornness."
Vaelmira's grip tightened around her dagger and sneered. "Now you resort to manipulating me over some humans whose lives mean nothing to me. And where is that bastard anyway? I do not believe that lustful dog would stay behind after me. Instead he sends his useless illegitimate brothers."
The bearded man's eyes hardened. "I am sorry it has come to this. But I must take you back."He nodded at his men and said with authority. "Do not hurt her. Capture her."
Spears were lowered as the men began to move towards her.
Vaelmira's voice turned cold and said. "I may have lost my magic, but I can still deal with little dogs like you."
She dashed forward. Her dagger met the first spear, pushing the point aside. She leaped, twisted in midair, and her blade carved open a throat. The man staggered, clutching the geyser of warmth spilling across his chest. His eyes went wide with the realization that he was already dead.
She landed and moved before anyone breathed again. Her dagger tore through another man's gut despite the chain protecting him. He dropped to his knees, gasping as his entrails spilled between his fingers.
The third man was a heavy brute, but at least he had the sense to brace himself. He thrust his sword forward. Steel met steel, sparks flying. Vaelmira kicked out with a sharp, precise strike to his knee. His weight betrayed him. He toppled backward, and before his scream could rise, she drove her dagger directly through his heart. His last sound was a wet gasp.
She stood, wiping her blade on his tunic and said in mocking tone. "Pathetic. This is what he sends after me. Laughable. If I knew these slobs were the ones chasing me, I would have killed them long ago."
But deep inside, she knew she was lying and boasting. She could feel the real threat in the shadows. A presence hidden in the dark. At least one king-rank warrior. Someone who could kill her before she could even raise her dagger.
A voice slithered into the clearing. A cold voice she had endured for four fucking years.
"That is enough, Vaelmira." His footsteps were calm, leisurely as he continued. "I have had enough of this childish chasing in the past days. Come back before I lose whatever patience I have left. You have behaved like a child long enough."
He appeared from behind the soldiers. A man who looked in his late twenties, but she knew better. He was centuries old, wrapped in the illusion of youth.
She sneered. "I knew you would come running like the lustful dog you are."
The Count's smile twisted, sharp as a blade. "Is this how you speak to your owner, Vaelmira? You truly disappoint me." He glanced around and then said with a curious expression. "Now tell me, where is your little friend? I heard she also helped you and ran away with you. And where is that bastard of yours?"
Vaelmira's voice turned arctic. "Why do you ask? Do you want to kill him too, like you killed my daughter?"
The Count's face didn't change but his voice turned cold. "No bastard will ever carry my family's name. What I did to your daughter was mercy."
Vaelmira trembled with rage and fury, then suddenly smiled which made Count think of her as a lunatic with this sudden mood changes . "You will never be able to touch my son. He is in safe hands already."
The Count glanced at the forest behind her and gave a cold, cruel smile. "Do you truly believe that? You, an elf, think those arrogant savage elves will accept a half-blood? They will kill it or cast it out. How many half-bloods have they rejected before? How fucking stupid must you be to think they would protect your bastard?"
Vaelmira's hands shook by what he said because she also feared this but she still pretended and said. "I believe in my people. They are not heartless like humans."
He waved a dismissive hand and said with a very certain tone. "My men will be waiting to collect your friend and your bastard when the elves throw them out. Now come back. I have a lot of work to do, so stop this game of playing hard to get nonsense."
Vaelmira closed her eyes for a moment. And Aegon's face came to her. The small smile he had. The warmth. She exhaled.
"I would rather die than be your plaything any longer. I lived only to keep my baby safe. Now that he is safe and out of danger, I have no reason to continue living."
She raised her dagger. And pressed it to her heart.
The Count's face snapped into panic and immediately shouted with rage. "I, your master, order you to stop whatever you're doing now."
The slave mark flared. Vaelmira's body froze for a moment. She growled through clenched teeth and whispered to the ancient deity of her people.
"Mother of the world tree. You created me as a free being. Grant this enslaved child of yours freedom once more to return to your roots."
A faint wind rose. It brushed her cheek, soft and warm, coming from the direction of Eldhaven. She smiled and understood the sign of her prayer being answered.
"Thank you, Mother."
She pushed the dagger forward.
The Count screamed in panic. "Stop her. Now."
A figure appeared before Vaelmira, impossibly fast. A king-rank warrior. He seized her wrist, tore the dagger from her hand. But he was too slow.
Vaelmira suddenly coughed blood, a thick stream spilling down her chin. She laughed softly.
"You were too late."
The Count shoved the king-rank soldier aside and shouted in panicked voice. "Why is she coughing blood? Did you not stop her?"
The man inspected the dagger and then bowed deeply towards his lord and said. "The blade was poisoned, my lord. The poison acted the moment it touched her skin. Her organs must already be melting. That is why she is bleeding."
The Count struck him across the face said with a cold tone. "Useless piece of shit. A king-rank warrior and you could not stop her."
He kicked Vaelmira who was now sitting on the ground full of grass. Her body folded under the blow. Blood dripped steadily from her mouth.
"Do you think you can escape me, you stupid bitch? You belong to me. Even in death you belong to me. I will drag your corpse to the greatest necromancer and force you back to life."
Vaelmira lifted her head slowly and said in a mockery. "Poor fool. Do you think I killed myself here without a reason? I will return to the Mother Tree, since this forest is her domain and my soul will be back to her even if it has the slave mark on it."
Her body began to glow with brilliant light. The Count screamed orders to his men in despair. "Find a way to stop her. Stop her, damn it."
The light intensified. Her form dissolved into drifting particles. A final shimmer. A final breath.
She shot toward the elven city like a falling star.
Nothing remained of her. Not even a corpse.
The Count howled in rage. After several moments of kicking and punching the soldiers or the ground, he forced himself up and glared at his remaining men and said with a resolute tone. "We are going to the elven city. I will bring her back."
His king-rank adviser and soldier knelt and said with a worried tone. "My lord, please reconsider your decision. You will provoke a diplomatic crisis. The emperor will not tolerate this."
And in response The Count shouted at him "To hell with the Empire and the emperor. I am going to get her."
Suddenly the ground trembled. The forest came alive. Ancient trees quivered. A crushing force pressed down on every living thing. The Count fell to his knees, barely conscious. His soldiers were already collapsed. The king-rank warrior trembled violently and dropped into his knees and bowed.
And the cause of this situation was a man standing in the air above them, dressed entirely in white. As his presence burned like the sun.
The Count met the stranger's gaze and found only winter in those eyes, flat, depthless, absolute. Then the air thickened, as though the night itself had decided to lean its full weight upon his shoulders. His knees buckled without ceremony; breath fled his lungs in a single, soundless gasp. Darkness rushed in before he could shape a plea, and the Count crumpled to the stone, unconscious, mercy a word already forgotten by the sky.
The king-rank warrior, still on his knees, pressed his forehead to the cold ground and spoke in a voice scraped raw by fear. "Please, honorable one… have mercy."
And the so called *Honorable One* looked at him and said in His angry voice which rumbled like ice cracking. "A pest dared to insult the empire's sun. Gave me a reason for why should I show mercy to someone who insulted his Emperor and Empire?"
The king-rank warrior pressed his forehead to the soil. "Please have mercy. My lord is grieving for his loved one. He spoke in emotion. He would never have dared say such words otherwise."
The man in white stared for a long, chilling moment. But then he exhaled softly. "He is fortunate. I knew his mother. She entertained me one night,and because I enjoyed her I will let it slide Otherwise he would've died here the moment he insulted the great sun of the Empire."
The pressure eased.
But the man continued "Tell him this when he woke up . If he comes near this forest again, or even breathes in the direction of the elven city, he dies."
The king-rank nodded frantically. "Yes, honored one. I will tell him."
When felt that the pressure went away completely,he looked up and found out that the white figure was gone. Only unconscious bodies remained.
He muttered under his breath. "Those people from the royal palace are fucking monsters." He sighed and began dragging his lord away from the forest.