CHAPTER 4

Chapter-4-Lisha

I went back to our scattered and battered village. The sight broke my heart, all our small homes had been reduced to dust, blood was everywhere. I found Perrone moving among the survivors, consoling the living while helping to carry the bodies of the dead. His face was sad but he kept going on. When he saw me.

"Lisha, go and pack anything you can pack, we needed to to leave at once, to get as far away from here as possible. The king might pass this route again, and if he did, there would be no one left to save us."

I just nodded and went straight into the remain of the house, stepping over broken wood and shattered jars. I began packing a few of my clothes, but my feet slowed as I reached my parents room. The moment I stepped inside, the weight of reality hit me harder than any blow I had ever taken.

My knees trembled. My parents were gone, truly gone, and yet their scent was still here. Without even realizing it, tears began streaming down my cheeks.

I crossed the room and found my mother’s small wooden chest. Inside was her pack, and at the bottom, wrapped in cloth was her pendant.

She had once told me she would give it to me on my twenty second birthday. I had been eyeing that pendant since I was eleven, imagining the day she would place it around my neck herself. That day would never come. I would be twenty-two in a few months, and she would not be here to see it.

With trembling hands, I put the pendant around my neck and I looked at myself in the cracked glass by the wall. I would wear this in her honor from now on.

While I stood there, still lost in the reflection, Perrone appeared at the doorway.

“It’s time to leave,” he said. I nodded, wiping the tears from my cheeks, and followed him out.

Months passed after that night. We moved from one town to another, always on the run, rarely resting more than a few days. We kept to the outskirts, never drawing too much attention.

It was during this time that I learned the king had passed command of the Royal Knight Hunters to his first son, Prince Lucan Camus. In the markets, I often heard rumours that Lucan was more merciful than his father, that he spared werewolf children, sometimes even letting captives go free. But to me, they were only rumors.

The death of my parents still haunted me. Nightmares came without mercy. Each one replayed the moment I saw my father chained. I woke every time with my heart pounding. I swore I would avenge them, no matter how long it took.

Perrone and I had grown closer in those months, though I still carried resentment. I understood now why he had put me to sleep that day but I still wished I had been able to fight by my parents side, even if it meant dying with them.

One evening, I went to Perrone while he was repairing some broken load cart. “We can’t keep running,” I said. “We need to fight. We need to do something.”

Perrone let out a long sigh. “We are fighting,” he replied. “Just not the way you think. Many are still resisting, but some have betrayed our kind for wine, gold, or a seat at the king’s table. Don’t be fooled, Lisha there are those still trying. But right now, hiding is all that keeps most of us alive.”

I frowned. “So we’ll just keep hiding until they kill us all?”

He looked away from me. “That is for the gods to decide.”

I couldn’t accept that. I spent days thinking, my mind turning over every possibility. It was during my twenty second birthday that my decision became clear.

I walked alone to my parents graves. The air was cold, the grass around was also wet from an earlier rain. I knelt besides the grave there, tracing my fingers over their grave, and the beautiful memories that had turned painful memories flooded me, I remembered my mother teaching me how to mix healing herbs, my father showing me how to handle a blade.

My father’s smile the day he gave me a small golden dagger bearing our family crest, telling me it was both a gift and a responsibility.

That night, I returned to my tent and lit a candle. I wrote a letter to Perrone, apologizing for leaving without saying goodbye. I told him I couldn’t sit still any longer. I had to act, had to do something for our people. I didn’t say where I was going, but I swore by my parents names that I was not running away. I was going to find a way to fight back.

Before sealing the letter, I added one more instruction, any future letters from me would contain a small star sketch hidden within. That way, no one could trace them to me or him. If he ever received such a letter, he was to follow the instructions without hesitation swiftly.

I left the letter on his bed and slipped out of his quarters undetected.

Before leaving home, I stood in front of a cracked mirror with scissors in hand. With steady fingers, I cut through strands of my hair, letting them fall to the floor. I parted and rearranged it until the girl staring back at me looked different, changed enough to make recognition harder. I tied the last lock behind my ear, exhaled slowly, and pulled up my hood.