I sat in the tent, staring out at the people moving about the camp.
Campfires burned in scattered circles, their flames flickering as people gathered around them for warmth. Others hurried through the camp, carrying bowls of food to those who had not yet eaten.
I watched the firelight dance and wondered where my life would go from here.
My gaze drifted down to my palms.
Why was I born this way?
The question haunted my thoughts. Every time I found something new to love—every time I found hope, a place to call home—the gods took it all away in a single breath.
A trembling breath escaped me. My fingers slowly curled.
"Amelia," I whispered. "I should have fought."
"I'm so sorry." Tears fell.
"My goodness."
A woman's voice broke through my thoughts.
I lifted my head and wiped my face.
She stepped into the tent holding a bowl of soup. White steam curled upward from the surface. The aroma reached me with every breath, making my mouth water.
"A pretty girl like you shouldn't be crying," she said as she crouched before me. She placed the bowl on the fur mat and sat down.
She had long gray hair and deep ocean-blue eyes.
My stomach churned.
She chuckled softly.
"Go on. Eat it. It's your—"
I grabbed the bowl before she could finish and lifted it to my lips.
The soup was thick, rich with mushrooms, roots, and vegetables. Its scent was heavenly, and the taste set my tongue on fire.
The woman watched me with a faint smile, head tilted slightly.
"You have such beautiful blue eyes," she said softly.
I lifted my gaze, cheeks warm.
"My name is Carla, one of the many mothers in this camp. Forgive the captain for how he welcomed you. He has a habit of testing every recruit before letting them stay."
I swallowed. "I owe you all my gratitude for letting me stay. And for this… meal. I've had nothing to eat in days."
"You're running from the elves just as we are. That makes us family, and family sticks together."
My gaze drifted back to the remaining soup.
Carla placed a finger beneath my chin and lifted my face. Our eyes met.
Her brows curved slowly, worry creeping in as she studied me.
"Oh dear," she murmured. "The things you've been through."
I held still under her gaze. My grip on the bowl tightened, hands beginning to shake as a trembling breath escaped me. My face crumpled.
"I wanted to protect them," I whimpered. "I wanted to protect all of them. But I was so scared."
Carla shifted closer and wrapped her arms around me, guiding my head against her chest.
"Fear is an emotion no human escapes," she said gently. "We only pretend to be brave so the world doesn't crush us as easily as it could."
"But…" I hesitated. "I'm not human."
"What?" she asked.
I pulled away and drew my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.
I wiped my face. "I'm not a human. Not fully."
"What…" she said, brow creasing. "What are you talking about?"
I sighed.
She studied me for a moment, then asked quietly, "What is your story, little one?"
There it was. The question everyone I'd met since my birth eventually asked.
Even if I refused to answer, they would eventually invent their own explanations.
And those explanations often led to catastrophe.
It was better to tell her. She seemed like a decent person.
"I was born into an unusual family three and a half centuries ago. My father was a fallen archangel. My mother was human."
I paused before continuing.
"My father used to tell me stories of the heavens. He recited the laws that guided angelhood, but he also warned me about the dangers of being one."
My voice softened.
"When I was ten, the gods sent an army of angels. My father fought them with everything he had… but he was powerless." I swallowed. "They cut off his head right in front of me."
I held her gaze.
"I've been running ever since."
"Running from what?" she asked quietly.
"From the angels."
I looked away, toes curling against the mat.
"Over a century ago, I met someone," I said. "A young man. We fell in love, and I chose to stay with him."
A sad smile touched my lips.
"When I thought I had finally found a life for myself, the angels came down again. Everyone in the town was killed… including him."
"If I had known it would happen, I never would have stayed. I never would have allowed myself to fall in love."
Carla stared at me in silence.
I pressed on.
"Decades later, we met again. Somehow, he had been reborn."
My voice trembled.
"I didn't want to stay with him again. But I couldn't help myself. I had been alone for so long… I thought it might be safe this time." I shook my head slowly. "I was wrong. His entire village burned."
"The angels… again?" she asked.
I nodded.
Her jaw tightened. Unease moved across her face like a cloud.
"He was torn to pieces right in front of me." My voice faltered. "I had grown so afraid of angels that even the sight of blood made me shake. I did everything I could to avoid being alone… and the people around me paid the price."
Carla's fingers fidgeted. The unease in her face had shifted into something closer to fear.
I drew a breath.
"Then I met him again decades later. He was a prison guard. I had accidentally killed a wealthy man who bought me and tried to rape me. I was supposed to be executed."
I paused.
"But he saved me." I released the breath slowly. "Three years later, he was impaled by an angel's sword. The rest of the town was destroyed."
Her breathing had quickened.
"Wha… what was his name?" she asked.
I held her gaze. "Daniel," I said. "His last name changes, but his first name is always Daniel."
The campfires outside crackled louder, sparks lifting into the air.
Carla startled. She watched the flames for a moment.
"Strange wind tonight," she murmured, voice unsteady. She turned back to me.
Relief softened her expression. Relief that told me there was no one in the camp called Daniel.
Her fear was understandable. Even I feared the destruction that followed me.
"Three years ago, I arrived in Tetarum City," I continued. "A woman took me in. She fed me. She trained me. And now the elves have taken her." My voice broke. "I failed her."
"Oh no, dear," Carla said, quickly rising to her feet. "Please don't blame yourself."
She picked up the bowl from the mat.
"Huh?" I murmured, looking up at her.
"I have to go, love," she said quickly. "Try not to think about the elves… or the angels too much. Get some rest."
She turned and hurried out.
I blinked as the curtain fell closed behind her.
The next morning, I was taken to a stream near the camp to bathe. The women gave me a fresh pair of clothes—cleaner this time, and properly fitted for a woman. They also brought me food and clean water.
Afterward, I returned to my tent and lay on the bed of dried grass, waiting for the captain's orders. He had said I would assist his Wanderers on their next mission, though he never told me what that mission was. I wasn't particularly excited about it.
But it was at least one way to avoid being useless.
I turned onto my side and let out a slow breath.
Strands of my white hair fell across my face, but I didn't bother moving them. I stared through them toward the opening of the tent, watching the children running outside.
They had built a small community here—soldiers, hunters, nurses—hidden from the elves by the mountains and the forest.
But as peaceful as the camp seemed, staying in one place for too long was not an option.
Noon came, and I grew tired of waiting. I rose and stepped out of the tent.
I wandered through the camp, greeting the elders I passed. They returned my greetings with polite smiles that never quite reached their eyes.
The younger women—the mothers and daughters—cast strange looks in my direction. Fear, disgust, even contempt.
I had only been here a single day, and I had already gained enemies.
I walked past them without a word.
—
"The elves have been in Tetarum longer than the people in the capital think," the boy said, striking a training dummy in the head with a wooden sword.
He had black hair and dark gray eyes and wore a black robe tied with a brown belt around his waist.
We stood outside his family's tent. He had told me his father had joined the Wanderers and that his mother worked as a nurse, tending to their wounded.
His name was Minius.
He was thirteen.
"You people aren't from the capital?" I asked.
"No," he said. "Do you hear any of us speaking Ceremonial Tetaran?" He shot me a sidelong glance.
"How are you on this side of the border?" I asked.
"We were chased here. The elves first attacked Vel'soleth. We believe they came from Tetarum peaks," he said. "They destroyed every home and killed every person they could get their hands on. Those who weren't killed were enslaved."
His wooden sword struck the dummy's right shoulder with a dull clack.
"Word of the Dra'velun—the hellspawn—spread faster than smoke in the wind. People grew afraid and started fleeing their homes. The elves sent their armies everywhere, and my people, along with many others, were forced to flee to the capital for safety."
Clack. His sword struck the dummy's left shoulder, knocking loose strands of hay.
"Many went to the city, but we chose to hide here in the mountains."
"And the elves haven't found you?" I asked.
"We're still alive, aren't we?" he said.
I watched him for a moment before scanning the surrounding tents. Children played between them, laughing—either unaware of the war or no longer bothered by it.
I turned back to Minius.
"Why aren't you playing with them?"
"I can't," he said. "I have to train so I can protect my mother from the elves."
"That's your father's job," I said.
Minius spat on the ground.
"That man joined the Wanderers just so he could have an excuse to stay away from his family and go around fucking other women in the camp," he said bitterly. "He protects nothing."
He struck the dummy again. "Vel dra'keth'un nethven!"
"Minius!" a woman screamed a short distance from us.
Minius and I spun around.
"Azh dra'var va!" she yelled, asking that he get away from me. She carried a basket of clothes, a blue scarf wrapped tightly around her head as she glared at us.
Mybrow creased. What did I do?
Minius looked just as confused.
The woman stormed over, grabbed his right ear, and dragged him back toward the tent.
"You foolish child. You never listen to me," she muttered. "Get inside!"
I watched the two of them disappear behind the tent flap. Then I looked down and spotted Minius's wooden sword lying in the dirt.
I crouched and wrapped my fingers around its hilt.
Standing, I faced the training dummy and raised the blade.
A soft gust of wind lifted loose strands of my hair as I narrowed my gaze.
"Miss Aurelia."
A male voice sounded behind me.
I lowered my arms and turned.
Two men stood there—Wanderers, by the look of them. They must have followed the woman here.
"The captain requests your presence," one of them said.
I went still, watching them.
…
We arrived at Corven's tent, the two men walking behind me. Unlike before, I wasn't dragged or shoved around like a prisoner.
One of the men and I waited outside while the other stepped in to announce my arrival.
I watched the tent curtains, waiting.
Then he stepped out.
"You can come in," he said, his voice low, ashen-gray gaze cold.
I pulled the tent flap aside and entered.
I hadn't even lifted my head when Carla's voice cut through the silence.
"There she is! The witch!" she barked.
My gaze snapped up.
She stood beside Corven's seat, pointing at me.
Four other men and one woman sat on the mat before Corven, all watching me with contempt, as though I had committed some terrible crime.
"She's a demon, I tell you," Carla continued. "Even the gods despise her existence. They destroy everything she touches. She will be the death of us!"
My jaw clenched.
No wonder everyone was acting strange today. She's told everyone.
She'd believed my story. She'd cared. But fear is an emotion no human can escape.
Corven let out a slow sigh. He leaned forward, gaze fixed on mine.
"Is it true what I'm hearing?"
"Depends on what you're hearing," I replied, trying to gauge how much this woman had told them.
"Carla says you're cursed," the lone woman among the men said, crimson gaze shifting toward me. Her short black hair glistened like silk in the sunlight that filtered through the tent walls, her thick clothing—more suited for a man—covering everything but her forearms and lower legs. "She says your presence in this camp puts all of us in danger."
"I am not cursed," I snapped. My fists loosened and my face fell. "But I am being hunted."
"By angels," Corven finished. His good eye lit up. "What really happened to that elf?"
"That was an accident. I'd never hurt anyone on purpose." I held his gaze. "If you want me to leave, I will."
The tent fell silent.
Carla's voice tore through it again.
"It's probably why the elves were after her! We should burn her alive like the witch she is, or hand her over to them. Maybe we can use her for a bargain."
Corven glanced at her, mildly irritated.
"Carla…" A lump rose in my throat. "Why?"
"You're a demon!" she spat. "A witch. You carry destruction everywhere you—"
Steel flashed.
Everyone in the tent gasped. I stepped back.
Her head slid from her neck and dropped to the straw-covered floor with a quiet thud.
All five Wanderers shot to their feet as blood spread across the mat and her body collapsed into the growing pool.
My pulse thundered. I stared at the corpse, breaths coming fast and heavy.
I raised my gaze.
Blood dripped from Corven's sword, clutched tightly in his left hand. Without looking away from me, he wiped the blade clean with a small rag.
"Why?" I said. The word came out a scream. "Why would you do that?"
"The people of this camp are already frightened enough by the elves," Corven said calmly. "I will not allow anyone to spread false rumors and throw this camp into chaos."
"But… Corven," the crimson-eyed woman said, wide with shock. "She confirmed it."
"As false, Khristen," Corven replied sharply. "Beyond this tent, Aurelia is a normal human who was chased by the elves and rescued by us."
My legs buckled and I dropped to my knees. Breath left me in trembling waves.
Corven's gaze returned to me.
"Anyone who spreads lies about a comrade will suffer the same fate," he said. "Aurelia is just as powerful as the elves. Maybe even more powerful."
He lifted his chin as he reclined.
"She is our only way across the border. We cannot afford to have people losing faith in her."
"The border?" I asked, tears at the corners of my eyes.
Khristen walked over and crouched down. Our gaze met.
"Elves patrol the borders day and night," she said. "We don't have enough food here. We have to cross quietly."
"But that's impossible with so many people," I said.
"Yes," Corven replied. "That's why we'll have to fight our way through. We'll thin our numbers and clear the border at the same time. With your power, things will be much easier."
"How about it, Aurelia?" Khristen said with a faint smile. "Would you like to put your abilities to the test?"
I held her gaze for a moment.
Then mine drifted to Carla's severed head.
That expression of utter disgust, frozen on her face forever.
I pressed my lips into a thin line and exhaled slowly.
This was what happened to everyone I tried to love.
Death. Again… and again.
And again.