I woke to linen sheets and a strange ceiling.
My shoulder screamed the second I moved, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Clean bandages. A stitched seam. I didn't do that.
Tory must've.
A soft knock on the door snapped my head to the side.
A woman peeked in—middle-aged, kind face. "He said you'd be awake soon. Brought you in two nights ago. Said bandits got you bad."
"...Bandits?"
"Mm-hmm." She smiled politely. "Your cousin's been down at the tavern, asking around for a healer. Said you were attacked on the road. Lucky he got to you in time."
Cousin.
I waited until she left. I waited until the hallway was silent. Then I forced myself to my feet, gritting through the pain, and limped down the creaky stairs of whatever backwater inn this was.
Tory sat at the bar.
Laughing. Talking. One hand wrapped around a warm mug.
He looked like a different person—clean, calm, friendly.And when he turned and saw me, his smile didn't fade.He just stood and crossed the room.
"You're supposed to be resting," he said, low and smooth.
"What the hell is going on?"
He glanced around. Took my elbow. Led me into the corner.
"We're cousins," he whispered. "You're recovering from a bandit ambush. Keep your head down. Don't screw this up."
I stared at him.
He didn't blink.
Then he tipped his chin toward a nearby table. "There. Back corner. Brown cloak, and the red-haired one. See them?"
I followed his gaze. Two men—Order of the Key, by the look of their robes. Relaxed. Drinking. Unaware.
"They haven't seen us," Tory added. "We can get some info. Maybe about your bounty."
"So what's the plan?" I asked.
Tory took a long sip from his mug and nodded toward me."You're the plan."
"...What?"
"Look down."
I frowned and glanced into his mug. Saw my reflection ripple in the liquid.
Except it wasn't me.
Blonde hair. Softer features. A stranger's face staring back.
"Illusion magic," he said. "Strong enough to fool them. Protect your identity. You'll pass as a barmaid or traveler."
"And what am I supposed to do?"
He looked at the two men, then back at me."Flirt. Lure. Trap."
I blinked. "Are you serious right now?"
Tory smirked. "They're drunk. And male."
I sighed, but before walking over, I paused."Are you okay?"
He didn't answer right away. Just looked off toward the windows.
"They missed most of their attacks," he said. "They were focused on you."
"That's not what I mean."
He turned to face me. His voice colder. His eyes unreadable.
His aura changed.
"I did what I needed to do."
I stepped closer, softer. "Tory... you shouldn't have—"
"We should move before they leave."
That was the end of it.
He was back to normal. Or pretending to be.
I moved toward the two men, pushing my hips just a little more than usual, letting my voice drip with charm.
"Evening, boys. Sorry to bother you, but I think I left something in my room upstairs. You wouldn't mind helping me look, would you?"
They grinned. Predictable. They followed.
Once the door was closed behind them, Tory stepped from the side and sealed it with a flick of his hand.
"Hey, what the hell—"
Tory stepped in behind them. I dropped the act and drew a warding sigil in the air.
Wind. Chains. Magic. Pain.
They were down in seconds. Gagged. Bound.
One of them still tried to talk—tried to laugh.
"You think you can scare us? A girl like you? Please. You'd never actually kill someone."
I looked down.
Then up again.Smirking.
"Oh really?" I whispered.
I drove the dagger straight into his leg.His scream tore through the room, but the tavern noise below swallowed it whole.
Blood splashed on my face. Warm. Metallic.
Tory stared at me from across the room—eyes blank. Detached. Watching like he was somewhere else.
"You okay?" I asked him, panting.
"...Yeah," he said. "I just need some air."
He turned and left.
"SHE STABBED ME! FUCK!" the man wailed, his voice high and hoarse.
I walked slowly toward him. Crouched.
Touched the wound.
Slid my finger into it. Deep.
He screamed again.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"
I smiled. Wider now.Joy flickered behind my eyes. Joy and something darker.
"I just placed a Mark of Cataclysm on your blood vessels."
His eyes bulged. "You don't know that spell—"
"Would you bet your life on that?"
The other man's eyes widened. He looked at his friend.
"Don't."
"Shut it," I snapped, cutting him off.
"Listen, if you tell her what she wants to know, we'll both be dead!"
"If I don't tell her, she's going to blow me up!"
"SHE DOESN'T KNOW THE SPELL—"
"Mark of Cataclysm, activ—" I started.
"WAIT, WAIT, I'LL TELL YOU!"
"ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?! YOU'LL GET US ALL KILL—"
The ice spike bloomed from the second man's throat before he finished.Straight through the neck and into the skull. Instant death.
Blood splattered the wall. The gagged scream cut off with a wet gurgle.The first man flinched and looked away, his face pale with horror.
I wiped a droplet of blood from my cheek and smiled faintly.
"So… who placed the bounty? I know it's someone high up in the Order—but who?"
"IT WAS DEAN! DEAN AND SAM!" he shouted quickly. "They told us you stole a book from the Archives. Told us to put out the bounty posters!"
Dean and Sam. The names buzzed inside my skull like flies.
I let the silence hang for a moment, then tilted my head.
"Why do they want the book?"
"I don't know! I swear! They just said you stole it and they want it back!"
I stood up, dragging an ice spike into existence. The blade shimmered next to his throat.
"Well then," I said softly. "You're no use to me."
"WAIT!" he cried. "I HAVE THEIR LOCATION! PLEASE—!"
I froze mid-step.
Blood was running down my side again—soaking the cloth wraps. I was out of energy.
I slumped back into the chair.
"Tory," I called out, "come back in."
He entered, eyes sweeping the room—one corpse, one man tied and panicked, and me: half-conscious, bleeding, exhausted.
Without a word, he picked me up and laid me down on the bed, tucking the blanket around me.
"You need rest," he said softly.
I didn't argue.
I woke to the sound of wheels rolling on dirt.
My whole body ached, but I wasn't in a bed anymore. A cart. Moving. Bouncing gently. Hay under me. Sun filtering through the canopy overhead.
"Tory...?" I croaked.
His voice came from the driver's bench up front."About two weeks out from the capital."
I sat up slowly, wincing. "Wait... he didn't tell you anything?"
"He did. Said Dean and Sam were near the capital. It was already our next stop anyway. So nothing changes."
I leaned back again. My wound stung, but it was healing. Slowly.
Two weeks. That's how long the trip would take. Give or take.
Enough time to think. Maybe too much.
Three days. That's how long it had been since Tory killed his friends.
I've killed people before. Plenty.But never someone close to me. Never someone I shared memories with.
If I ever had to? I'd be wrecked. I'd weep for days. I'd relive every moment.
But Tory?
He just kept moving.No tears. No breakdown. No anger. No fear.
Just... silence.
There's something wrong with him. I can feel it.
He's not letting it out. He's bottling it.And I don't want to be the one to pull the cork and let it explode.
I won't pry.I won't make it worse.
But still...
For the first time since we started traveling together... I started to worry about him.
[Day 16 / 3650]