He placed a flower on the tomb—and beneath it, hid a corpse of his own.

  Elsyn's mind was heavy with concern for her sister, but seeing Corvus along with Lea assuaged her. She had not known him for even a week, yet the short span of their relation was no reflection of its depth.

  After all, a mere moment is enough to build bonds that last one's lifetime—and beyond.

  Shaking off her thoughts, Elsyn focused on the red-eyed boy.

  The boy wore the usual rugged, brownish clothes typical of slaves in Bleakmoor Hearth. However, apart from his garments nothing about him seemed slavish. Not his pristine albino skin, nor his kempt hair, and certainly not the sharp, captivating ruby-colored eyes. None of it fit.

  "Hello, my name is Elsyn. What should I call you?" she asked.

  "I... am Lior, ma'am," the boy, Lior, replied.

  Corvus and Lea ceased their artistry debate and watched the two.

  "Lior, why were you in the cottage?"

  "Masters brought me here... I did anything they wanted me to. Do you want something from me, ma'am?"

  "Masters? Are you an idiot? They were evil slavers—monsters! They hurt people. How can you not see that?" Lea snapped, her words still raw from her recent ordeal.

  Elsyn waved a hand. "Not now, 'squeak."

  "Don't speak ill of my... masters. They were good people who took care of me... Sir Alistar Blackwell was the strongest, noblest person I've ever met... Yet he was murdered so cruelly, ignobly by those Kin scum," Lior's gaze lingered at the corpse of the old Mundukar.

  He looked at Corvus, and said, "You have my gratitude, O noble sir. You not only avenged him but also honored his death."

  "Sure thing, boy. Though why are your hands stained with blood?"

  Lior quickly hid his hands behind him. "... I tried to help one of my wounded masters, but... he died."

  Corvus came close to Elsyn, and said, "We should leave; he's harmless."

  "Corvus that's so mean," Lea commented.

  He looked at Elsyn for support.

  She shook her head. "Hate to say this, but Lea's correct, we can help Lior."

  "We can't outmaneuver the Kin forces, if they send reinforcements, which they definitely will. He also worships these people. He'll run back to them the first chance he gets and expose us."

  Elsyn calmly mused Corvus's words, when Lior spoke:

  "Sir Corvus, I know how to ride a horse. I promise not to be a burden. And sadly, I can't go back to my masters; other bad people may harm me on the way."

  "Lior, sorry, but we're not going back to the Hearth. We can take you to the Covenant of Eldara; it's not a bad place," Elsyn explained.

  "Take it or leave it, kid," Corvus added.

  "No. I am not asking for charity. I can help you reach your destination quicker. I know the terrain and the routes; in exchange when you return take me to my masters."

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  "Tell us one thing we don't know, boy." Corvus smirked.

  "This ancient grove, Umberfall, is navigable only during day if you constantly keep track of the sun, that is. Many who lost their way in Umberfall never escaped it. Their bodies were found months later, and sometimes years. However, I've accompanied masters many times in these woods, I can easily help you navigate."

  Corvus idly picked at his nail, unimpressed, as though the information was not worth his time.

  Lior cleared his throat, and continued with more nuanced informations.

  The siblings quietly watched the pitiful scene. Lea whispered, "Sis, what do we know, again?"

  "The Covenant is in north-east," Elsyn whispered back.

  After a brief pause, Lea again whispered, "Why'd you stop?"

  "I didn't stop, I finished. North-east. That's all we know."

  Lea's mind went blank for a minute, when her senses returned she heard Lior still blabbering to win against an unbeatable opponent.

  "... across Umberfall's edges three forces are there: Bleakmoor Hearth, the Covenant of Eldara, and the Zimorath Empire. Both the Hearth and Zimorath are enemies of the Covenant, and the latter's forces constantly patrol the woods... And guess what, I know their routes—they were practically friends with my me–masters... Do you accept now?"

  Before Corvus could open his mouth, Elsyn took over, "Yes. We accept."

  "Let me get my stuff real quick," Lior said and ran inside.

  Corvus stretched his arms, and said, "El, you catch all that? I stopped listening after: Umberfall, is navigable. That's good, right?"

  Elsyn studied his face incredulously with one question etched in her mind, How?

  Lea patted his back, and said, "It's good that we found you, Corvus."

  Corvus was dumbfounded.

  Lior returned with a small satchel attached to his waist.

  "Just a second," Lior spoke as he moved toward the corpse of the old Mundukar, Alistar Blackwell.

  He placed a small flower on top of Alistar Blackwell's severed head. "Rest well, Sir. Your death may not have been honorable but your life was. You died for your service, valor, you—"

  "He died because he was stupid," Corvus curtly cut off Lior's eulogy.

  "Excuse me, sir, but please take your words back," the boy's words gentle, but his eerily steady eyes were not.

  "Giving me death stares already? But, hey I meant no offense; only truth. The dead have no honor."

  "What truth? Sir Allistar was outnumbered three hundred to one, and even then he stood his ground."

  "Precisely, kid. In warfare that's called plain stupid. You retreat against heavy odds; not make a last stand over a pretty house."

  "No, he... he..." Lior trailed off.

  His thoughts concealed meant only for him, but his frustration was bare to everyone.

  Elsyn spared an exasperated glance at Corvus, and holding Lior's hand she took him along with her.

  Corvus and Lea followed behind them, with Lea staring at Corvus angrily.

  "What?" Corvus asked.

  "Did you really have to say all that?"

  "Since when is speaking truth a crime? I did it all the time in the Reavers."

  "I am not judging the correctness of your words, but rather its timing. That whole thing could've gone much smoother."

  "Ah. So this is what the geezer meant by: wait for the perfect moment to make a punchline. Hasty words, however good, lose their impact without proper spacing. I get it."

  Lea's one eye fluttered rapidly; she slapped herself to focus, and said, "You have a lot to learn, pupil."

  If you can at all... she added in her mind.

  Just as they were about to enter the woods again, Lea turned back and took in the macabre sight of the clearing one last time. Her mood had lightened, but her mind remained clouded by the death of the horse—her first kill.

  She imagined, How many more like Horsy must be in there?

  Taking in a long breath, she asked, "Corvus, are all of them dead?"

  "Only the lucky ones."

  In the dark of the night, they marched inside Umberfall, where new threats and opportunities awaited them.

  ***

  Meanwhile, inside the cottage a deep red room was there; its color an exact replica of the boy, Lior's ruby-red eyes. The room carried several furniture, laid in an orderly and stylistic manner, giving the space a lavish look.

  Corvus had found Lior by this room's window. The boy had been wary of him at first, though he did not resist when taken along. Perhaps he was just afraid of Corvus's prowess and saw no point in protesting.

  Everything in the room seemed perfectly in place. Except for one thing—the bed. The bed's position was slightly out of alignment. Not enough for the inattentive to notice, but against the otherwise meticulous arrangement, the imbalance was unmistakable.

  Behind it, hidden from sight, lay the body of a boy. His skull had been smashed with a rock, which rested next to him. His wounds were small and shallow but numerous, as if someone weak but ruthless had delivered them.

  The boy had been stripped of his clothes before being bludgeoned to death. And left bare on the cold floor.

  On his exposed skin, lash marks and cuts revealed a life full of misery and suffering—the patent brands of a slave.

  The child slave’s life—his belongings, everything—had been taken from him; only his hopes had remained his. That too, now lost forever to the darkness of death.