I didn't pay much attention to him or the other students and just drew out my notebook and headphones from my bag.
Placing my headphones on my ears to block the outside noise, I picked up my pen to continue from where I stopped:
The boat drifted into darkness. Behind them, Grimoire Island burned. The last thing she saw were two figures lying together…
I realized I have reached the end of the page.
'Hmm… that's enough for chapter one' I thought to myself as I flipped the page.
…Flip…
'Ok, here goes…' With immense concentration I began to write:
Chapter two…
Eighteen years later in the land of the Andels, located just outside the kingdom of Azath, a girl wearing a black coat entered a nearby cabin. Her wide-brimmed hat cast shadows over her face, and a katana and bow rested at her sides.
As she entered, the eyes of everyone shifted to her, ignoring them she went to sit on a seat near the counter.
"A cup of lierien wine." the girl ordered, bending her head slightly to avoid recognition from others who sat near her.
The bartender mixed a few shakes and poured a glass of red wine into a silver cup.
Walking over to deliver the drink, the bartender quietly slipped a folded letter beneath the silver cup before setting it down.
The girl took a sip of her drink and unfolded the letter:
- Dear Nieves,
I finally have information on the man who led the attack on Grimoire Island, Garrick "The Reaper"—still lives. He's grown fat and comfortable in his wealth, hiding behind the title of merchant in the capital city of Azath.
If you want to know where Garrick hides, meet me at the Weeping Willows forest, three days from now at sunset.
—Vincent Von bastine.
'Finally that Von bastine bastard has information…' Nieves thought as she folded the letter and slipped it into her coat pocket.
She finished her wine and stood, tossing a few coins on the counter. The bartender pocketed them without looking up
A drunk man stumbled into her path as she walked toward the door.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" he slurred, grabbing her arm. "A pretty little thing all alone. Why don't you stay and have a drink with—"
Nieves twisted his arm and forced him to his knees.
Cra-Crack!
'Ow..! Ow..! AHHH!" The man shouted in pain.
"Touch me again and you'll lose that hand." Nieves said with an emotionless look on her face.
She let go and walked out into the cold night.
The streets of the Andels were dimly lit by oil lamps. Nieves pulled her coat tighter and headed toward the inn where she'd been staying.
—
Eighteen years before, after three hours of drifting across the dark sea, the boat ran aground on a rocky shore.
A lone fisherman stood knee-deep in the shallows, net in hand. He froze when he saw the boat approaching, filled with desperate faces and dropped his net, drawing his sword as he waded toward them.
"Turn back! Leave now or I'll cut you down!" he shouted.
A woman on the boat raised her hands. "Please! We're not bandits! We're survivors! Our island was attacked and burned. We barely escaped with our lives."
The fisherman studied their faces, the children crying, the wounded slumped against the sides of the boat. His grip on the sword loosened and he sheathed his blade.
"Forgive me. My name is Maven. These waters, you can't be too careful," he said, helping them ashore.
"Please, come to my place. I can't leave you all out in the open. It's a cold night and I've just made grilled fish." The man smiled at the survivors.
But Nieves didn't move. She stared at nothing, her face blank.
The next morning, Nieves found Maven outside chopping wood. He looked up as she approached.
"Oh, hey. You are...?"
"Nieves, sir."
"Ah, Nieves. How may I help you?"
"I want you to teach me swordsmanship."
"Huh?"
"I said—"
"No, I heard you the first time, but sorry, swordsmanship isn't for little girls." The man chuckled.
Anger flashed across Nieves's face. She walked over, grabbed the axe from his hands, and swung it down hard. The large chunk of wood split cleanly in two.
Maven stared at the split wood, then at the girl, and smiled.
"Alright then. We start tomorrow at dawn."
Five years passed. Nieves became a master swordswoman and fully mastered the bow and arrow.
It was during that time she met Vincent Von Bastine, a noble who stopped by Maven's home to buy fish. He saw Nieves practicing in the yard and asked Maven about her.
"She's just a girl who helps me around here," Maven replied.
"She's quite the beauty isn't she."
"Yes she is, my lord."
Vincent nodded and left with his purchase.
—
Nieves reached her inn and climbed to her room. It was small and bare, just a bed, a table, and a window overlooking the street.
She locked the door and set her weapons on the table. Her father's bow sat in the corner, the one she'd grabbed from the burning house eighteen years ago.
She pulled out the letter again and read it over.
-Three days. The Weeping Willows forest.
After eighteen years, this was the first real lead she'd had. She wasn't going to ignore it.
She lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Sleep didn't come easily. When it finally did, the nightmare followed. Flames consuming the village, screaming voices, her parents lying together on the shore.
Nieves laughed quietly to herself, remembering how she first met Vincent all those years ago. Back then, she was just a girl learning to fight. Now, she was hunting the man who destroyed everything.
She closed her eyes and whispered into the darkness, "Soon, Garrick. Very soon."