The Orc War Campaigns by Jon Wasik

Author:Jon Wasik [Wasik, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781537688275
Published: 2018-11-16T00:00:00+00:00

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Gathering her cloak about her to stave off the cold night, Amaya wandered down one of Archanon’s countless narrow streets. Her mind wandered, her thoughts dwelling on Din, on the anger she felt, the frustration.

How many months since his betrayal? Since she had been imprisoned? Yet he still knew exactly what to say to throw her off, to anger her, to unhinge her. By all rights, how she had barged in and practically shouted at her King, she should have been thrown back into the dungeon. If he hadn’t been so patient and understanding…

What was wrong with her? She was strong, wasn’t she? She had fought in countless battles, witnessed horrible atrocities, taken the lives of monsters and humans alike. She had felt the guilt, overcome it, found ways to deal with it so that she could sleep most nights. Yet this one man, a man who wasn’t even a part of her life anymore, continued to tear her apart.

Amaya felt the rage and frustration boil up within her, her hands clenching and unclenching in fists. Her pace increased rapidly, but she paid no attention to where she walked. She could see Din’s face, imagined smashing it to a pulp. Imagined throwing her most powerful spell at him, wanting to feel satisfaction for it, but it wasn’t enough. In her mind’s eye, she imagined smashing him again and again, with fists, with magic, with the flat of her sword, until she imagined thrusting her blade straight through him, lifting him up, her anger giving her unreal strength, and throwing him across the street to slam into a wall…

In that moment, she realized where her thoughts had gone, and her stomach sank to the lowest depths of her being. She stopped, blinking, feeling guilt and a terrible void open up in her chest. An emptiness. No…fear. Intense fear. Not of Din. She no longer feared him.

She feared herself.

Whether from the cold or from her frozen soul, she suddenly shivered. Looking around, she realized she had somehow wandered all the way down by the river.

Looking by the stone wall bordering the river, she sighed, the sound of flowing water working to calm her just a little. It was late, very late. Almost no one else wandered the streets.

Except for a young man who emerged from another cross street by the river. No, not a young man, just a boy. He glanced at her and froze, the look of fear clear on his face in the pale moonlight. There was no curfew, why should he fear her?

Her own introspection forgotten, she was ready to approach him and ask what he was doing, why he seemed so afraid to be noticed. Until another figure approached him, a young, slender woman, also donning a cloak, but much more ragged than his, full of holes. He looked at her, cautious at first, but she said something to him. A moment later, she planted a kiss squarely on his lips.

Feeling her own face warm, Amaya smiled, and placed her hands on her hips.

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