Stones. Stone walls. Brick after brick, step after step. Eyes dart around the darkness with haste, blinking frantically. No matter where you look, there's only stone. The corridor lay narrow and stagnant, the air stiff and old, not much room to move around.
She advances slowly, her sword drawn and pointing forward, her fingers shifting uncomfortably around the handle. Ever since stepping inside, her grip has remained unsteady and uneasy, the blade seemingly trying to slither out of her clutches. If her fingers felt loose and her knees weak, then her heart felt tight and heavy, each breath a struggle to keep steady. Her back tense and her shoulders tired, she couldn't shake the feeling of being followed. No use turning around to check, she can't make much out in this darkness. She can only see the stone. With each step, more stone, more darkness, more unease.
The longer she walks, the more convinced she is that the corridor is endless. Only stone. No room. Not to run. Not to turn around either. No escape if that thing comes for her. How much time did she have left? Her blind march leads her to a box of a room, she could tell that she walked into it just by the fact that her shoulders were no longer touching the stone walls. She casts down the blade, the sound of metal striking stone echoes coldly. She reaches in the dark, arms outstretched, the only noises were her ragged heart and shaky breathing.
She steps toward what she believes to be the center of the room. It has to be in the center. It's always been in the center. It had to be, and sure enough, it was. First her fingers, then her palms. She could feel the unmistakable cold of old and forgotten iron. She drops to her knees, soft flesh meeting cut stone, no doubt cutting her knees in the process, but she has no time to worry about that. The darkness surrounds akin to a sweeping tide. It's getting tougher to breathe. Her hands fumble in the dark as she reaches for what seems to be rope. Grasping it firmly, she throws it to the side with all her might. The bell tolls. The sound booms with thunderous intensity.
She allows herself to drop backwards, closing her eyes. Finally, safety.
When she opens them again, darkness surrounds still. Similar yet not the same. No stone, only wood. She turns in bed, back aching, eyes slightly open. A dark figure peering in from the open doorway. She doesn't move, her hand slowly inches under her pillow, fingers wrapping around her old knife. The shadow steps in. In her hazy mind, not much can be made out with the thin strands of silver moonlight coming from the window. The dark shape steps forward, it remains about paces away for a moment before taking another step. She takes a deep breath in, her body tenses, and she springs like a coil.
She jumps forward, timing it with their slow steps, catching them off balance and sending them tumbling to the floor with a thud. Heart racing, Sadia doesn't waste a moment. She comes over the top, pinning the figure to the floor with one hand wrapped around what must be their throat, her other hand raised above her head, knife glinting in the moonlight. Body's telling her to bring down the blade and be done with it, just like she has before. But she won't. She can't succumb to those old urges. She would rather turn to stone than take another undeserving life. Her eyes look down on the figure, seemingly frozen in fear. It was Dawn, hands wrapped around the arm that was pinning him down, eyes narrowed in terror, powerless to resist or fight back. Scared shitless, no doubt.
Sadia let go of the young man, standing up as he coughed, "The hell do you think you are doing?", she asked as she stepped away, putting her knife back under the pillow.
With one hand around his neck, he spoke much more quietly than Sadia, "I-I couldn't sleep and I wanted to see if you were still up."
"And why'd you step into my room if you saw that I was sleeping?".
His gaze fell to the floor, "I couldn't help but notice that you weren't tucked in. I figured I would pull the blanket over you before I head back to my room.".
Blanket? This fool almost got himself killed over that? Sadia let her head fall into her hand, "You wanted to tuck me in? What am I? A child?". She shook her head before stepping forward and pulling him to his feet. "Since you ruined my sleep, how about we take a walk together?".
His expression worsened, as if it could get even more scared than it already was, "A w-walk? At this hour?".
"Yes. I think you owe me that much at least.".
Sadia could hear as he swallowed hard, speaking slowly, doing his best to turn his fearful scowl into a thin smile, "A walk sounds like a swell idea.".
The roads lay empty, and that was to be expected. There's nothing to do at this hour, and tomorrow the tourney is going to take place. Each step rings out, and each streetlamp passed casts a thin shadow courtesy of their dull embers. The two walk down a main road with no direction in mind, Sadia's step seems a bit more lively than Dawn's, however, despite the fact that she was the one who woke not too long ago.
Every few steps, Sadia could see how Dawn's eyes would dart from left to right, checking each and every alley they walked past, sweat shining on his forehead despite the chilly air. Her attack must have left him pretty shook up, "I am sorry about earlier.". They stopped in the middle of a small square, one that connected four roads. Grand buildings of wood and stone glared down on them from every side, their windows dark and empty, sharp shadows along every corner.
Crimson Dawn gave a half-hearted smile, rubbing the back of his head, "Oh, there's nothing to apologise for.", his eyes wandered toward the darkness of a nearby alley as he spoke.
Nothing to apologise for? For once, Sadia mustered enough strength to go against her pride, apologising even though her actions were appropriate for the situation Dawn put her in. And what does she get in return? Ignorance and ingratitude. Never again, apologising gets you nowhere, it seems. If not for her actions, what's got him so jumpy tonight?
She put a hand on his shoulder, "I really mean it. I am sorry about that, but don't try to sneak into anyone else's room from now on.".
His smile became a bit wider after he let out a short sigh, "I promise I won't. Not as if I have a habit of doing that. Why do you sleep with a knife on you anyways?".
That was a good question. One Sadia felt hesitant to answer truthfully. The metal beneath her pillow made her feel safe, especially when knowing that "he" might send someone in the dead of night to carve her, and Dawn, and anyone else unfortunate enough, from groin to gullet. She wanted to lie.
Crimson Dawn, pale of fright and frail of body, stared back at her with the eyes of a puppy begging for more scraps at the dinner table. And just like that, the tale she was about to spin got caught in her throat. So, she settled on something much plainer. "It makes me feel safe. It always did.". she responded honestly, omitting the ever-important information that people could still be out there, looking to put an end to the both of them.
"Is that so? It would make me feel the exact opposite, I think.", he turned his gaze toward the streetlamp burning just above them, his eyes fixed on the tiny flame dancing within a glass cage, "Are you afraid, Sadia?".
"Afraid? I haven't felt afraid in a long time.".
The tiny ember sways back and forth, Dawn's complexion changes slightly under the light of the lamp, "How can you say that when you sleep with a knife under your pillow? To think you'd need that to get a wink of sleep. You must have been through a lot. You must be just as scared as I am.", his head turned towards her, flashing a warm smile. "Let's hope things will be better from here on out.".
Sadia's face contorted in confusion, "What are you talking about?".
"It doesn't matter. Let's head back.".
The walk back towards the inn felt tense. There was a chill in the air, one Sadia couldn't shake off, try as she might. It lingered still. Even as they entered the tavern, even as Sadia stepped inside her room, it wouldn't leave her. She couldn't sleep, she was too on edge to.
Laying on the bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling, a thin root of dread slowly took hold of her spirit, much like a wild mint spreads in the soil of a grand garden. Something was wrong, that much was obvious, but exactly what? She couldn't put her finger on it. Dawn looked jumpy too, looking every which way while they walked back, gazing sharply at all the dark corners they rounded and paying close attention to all the dark alleys they walked past, as if he was expecting to see someone or something there.
With a sigh and scoff, Sadia turns and stands up from the bed, feet shambling with exhaustion yet unable to rest, walking toward the closed window. The sight before her wasn't anything special, just a cobbled road in between small shops, flowers flowing gently in the night's breeze under the lampposts outside. This would have been a soothing view for most people.
Sadia isn't most people, however. The moon and its moonlight. The dusky flames of the lamps. The hushed whisper of the winds. The unease she felt. It all brought her back to before, to when she lost all that she held dear. Coming to think of it, it was a night much akin to this one that filled her with pain and sorrow and despair. To think she got so close to putting an end to it all, on such a beautiful night, too. Would it have been better that way? For both of them to die, shrouded in moonlight, wrapped in the song of the winds, sleeping in the cold below, nestled in each other's arms?
A heavy question, one that Sadia has neither the wits nor the guts to answer. Truth be told, she was hopeless back then. She still is, in fact. Lowly. Cowardly. Careless. If only she could have died back then, she would be spared from this tide of emotions that is seemingly drowning her right about now. She's been away for so long that she has forgotten how it feels to remember. Oh, how it hurts.
Even as her head became heavy with doubts and loathing, something caught her unfocused gaze. Tired and emotional as she was, Sadia still had the eyes of a huntress, a damn good huntress at that. There, in between an old butchery and a quaint little flower shop, a shape lurches forward, partly hidden in the shadows yet too big to be lost in the darkness of the lot. It's big, that much is certain, too big to be a man. Then, she notices something stranger still. Two dots of white, akin to two twinkling stars, pierce through the dark, looking up at her with the vitality of a dead animal. There is no life behind them, no feeling, nothing at all. They look empty. Desolate. Cold. And they sit just above the dark outline of the figure in the alley.
The eyes of a huntress, eyes she can't fully believe in her exhausted state. She rubs her tired sockets, believing that her eyes must be playing tricks on her, but no, the shape remains still. Unmoving. Shrouded.
Her breath tightens as she tries to step away but she can't. She doesn't want to let whatever it may be out of her sight. Her past didn't teach her much about the world, but one thing was certain, one cannot hope to survive the hunt without knowledge of the things stalking in the dark. So, there she stands, by the window, gazing down at something she can barely see, unsure whether to be afraid or not. Time passes. How much? She can't say. Neither of them has moved. Locked in a stalemate with the shade in the alley, her legs have long gone numb from standing. Even her eyes have grown somewhat heavy, each blink becoming slower than the last. It was during one of these more laboured blinks that the dots had disappeared. It must have wandered deeper into the alley, somewhere it couldn't be seen. Her skin prickled with sweat as she opened the window, a cool breeze brushing against her face as she stuck her head out. Her eyes scanned the darkness, only to find nothing. No looming shadow. No white dots. Nothing.
She let out a soft sigh as she stepped away, returning to her bed after closing the door to her room. Even as she lay her head down, Sadia's eyes remained glued to the door, clutching the knife from under her pillow, fingers rubbing against that old silver trinket.