CHAPTER
Night had fallen upon the small town of Lethra, bringing sketches in the sky that sparkled prominently against the darkness. The wind, fickle in its ways, whistled with rage through the tall grass before coming to a sudden halt. Tara stood overlooking the sleeping town, watching as flickering candlelight’s grew fewer and fewer.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Tara…”
Erin brushed blonde hair behind her ear before retrieving the hood to her cape and turning her sights away from Lethra. The wind picked up again hitting the coarse fabric against the sturdy vegetation residing along the hills.
“You need to do it, Erin. You know what happens if we don’t follow orders,” Tara said, still keeping a watchful eye on the handful of candles burning on windowsills below them.
A small sigh brushed past Erin's lips as she spun around to face Tara, furrowed her brown and resigned to the inevitable. In the distance mountains towered to such great heights that on this night the moon appeared to be sitting atop the highest peak, worried it might topple over. Erin made her way back beside Tara and watched the sleeping town in the distance.
“No one chooses this Erin… You know that.”
Erin tried her best to hide her shaking hands beneath the darkness of the cape, but the cool air gave her away with each short breath she took. The life of a fury was never a choice, and she knew that. But as she watched the faces of others slumber beneath the dim flames, Erin wished for that same peacefulness.
The terrain was never an issue for Tara—she glided through the tall grass and over streams of needle-like rocks without faltering. Not even the sound of her cape catching onto the gusts of wind hindered her stride. Erin walked behind her, amazed at how graceful Tara made every step she took, while tripping over every bump she came across.
“Ow!” Erin yelled.
Tara paused suddenly and spun to face Erin, her body sideways along a steep drop and her hair sprinkled with flecks of dirt.
“Under no circumstances are you ever to utter a sound. Especially this close to the town,” Tara said as she grabbed Erin by the wrists and picked her up as easily as a child picks up a stuffed animal.
The guards posted at the gate slept beneath tattered brim hats, inhaling and exhaling at a steady pace. One held something that resembled a sword while the other held a long staff that kept his head from toppling over while he rested. Tara tiptoed to the gate to release the hatch, but before she got the chance to walk through she was stopped at the sound of a loud snore coming from the man holding the sword. She looked to her left to ensure he was still at rest.
“Is he…”
“Shhhhh!” Tara whispered loudly to Erin, who had taken up residence next to the man with the spear. Erin threw a hand over her mouth and stared at Tara with wide eyes. Tara’s agitation showed as she finally had the chance to gently push open the gate and grabbed Erin by the arm.
The town was nothing special, but still held a certain charm. Market Street was one long line of boarded up shops and empty carts resting like their owners, and preparing for a busy following day. The sounds of loose planks banging against buildings as the wind rushed past startled Erin, but she continued on walking as Tara’s silhouette kept a steady pace ahead.
Erin watched as Tara stopped dead in front of a small tailor shop, searching for any small crack or crevice to get a closer look inside. Common cloth hung in spools, lining the back wall, while the more expensive pastels sat in half size spools atop a deserted work bench save for a crudely handcrafted wooden animal looking almost like— a cat hissed in the distance as Tara stood up and turned towards Erin.
“This is the place,” she said.
“How can you be sure,” Erin asked, as she gathered her cape closer and surveyed the area with a look of discomfort, “there could be more than just this tailor.”
Tara’s eyes rolled. “Dia specifically said that there is only one tailor on the right hand side on the second half of this street. Plus, she mentioned the really ugly cat carving that the creep has sitting on the desk. So are you going to question me some more or can we get on with it?”
Erin pursed her lips together and shook her head.
“Good. Let’s go.”
Erin followed Tara to the alley alongside the tailor shop and looked up to spot a window holding a candle that had recently been extinguished judging from the small swirl of smoke. Erin’s hands grew clammy but she only noticed as the wind ran past sending a chill through her fingertips. She watched as Tara scaled the building silently without second thought. Her cape swayed back and forth but it didn’t hinder her movements. She watched her black hair follow with every leg lift and swinging motion until she came to rest at the top of the roof and looked down. It was dark, but Erin could make out the come hither motion her shadow directed towards her.
Erin had been training for this since she was old enough to walk on her own two feet, but she’d never thought of the day she would have to put it into a real life situation. Any sudden sound or misplaced step could end her and the reputation of the furies. She took a deep breath and began her ascend. Tara had made this look easy, but Erin took her time, careful not to muck it up.
As Erin landed next to Tara, she inhaled, ready to speak, but not before Tara’s eyes bulged and put a finger against her lips. They both leaned closer towards the window, looking for any sign of life. Behind dirt caked glass they spotted a bed, but it was empty. Tara signaled Erin to help her lift the window open, and with every attempt at pushing it higher creaked an ungodly creak that made animals nearby verbally protest. Eventually, Erin was able to fit through with a small thud as she landed, followed by Tara who hadn’t made a sound. They looked at each other, raising eyebrows as to where the resident could be at this late hour.
The room was small and could have used a dusting about 50 years prior to their visit. The man must have not needed much in the ways of entertainment. His small desk sat bare in the corner of the room save fro a couple writing utensils and blank parchment while the bed sat in the opposite corner, covered in coarse linens that had seen better days.
Tara couldn’t shake a bad feeling from the still present scent of freshly snuffed candlelight. She turned towards Erin and pressed her finger against her lips. Both turned towards a slightly ajar door showing nothing than seeping shadows. Tara stepped lightly and grabbed on to the splintering wood preparing to swing it open, when—
“Get away!” A man screamed.
Erin stood there, her gaze moving back and forth between Tara and the man sitting in the small closet. His knees were drawn tightly against his chest by trembling hands, and his eyes were nothing more than the epitome of fear. Tara stared down at him, showing no signs of emotion as she watched him rock back and forth frantically against the wall. Erin attempted to keep her composure, and straightened her shoulders while eyeing Tara.
“Please… Just leave me alone,” the man said as he dropped his head to his kneecaps.
Tara reached down to inspect his right hand that was covered beneath his left.
“NO! No, no, no…” The man struggled against Tara’s grip, but his cries eventually diminished to nothing but a pathetic murmur.
Tara felt the dampness of his hands and wrists as she rubbed against the grit of dirt along his callous skin. She raised his left hand and peered straight into what she was looking for—a small brand, freshly done in the shape of a crescent moon. She dropped his arm and turned to Erin, who was still fighting to hold back her emotions.
“Take my sword,” Tara said, reaching beneath her cape to a sheath strapped around her hip.
Erin stepped forward, taking a deep breath and looked to the trembling man who had begun sobbing with his head on his knees. Tara presented her with the finely crafted sword holding the moonlight’s reflection along its sharp edges, and Erin reached for it, squeezing her hand along the hilt to try and stop the shaking. She raised it above her caped blonde hair before staring at th
e fear stricken eyes of a man as he watched her bring down the blade with all the strength she could muster.
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