Durn was a special type of hell for those unaccustomed to the cold. Blanketed in frozen, hardened snow and ice, the small fishing village huddled tightly against a series of rocky cliffs, its centuries' old buildings of stone and wood holding together against piercing winds and sleet meant to cut flesh. Waves from the Blurr Sea slammed into its dock, but, just like the people, it held firm.
Smoke poked its way up to an otherwise bleak and gloomy sky from chipped chimneys and hastened fires. Fishermen and women hauled lines and tackle from sturdy boats. The single bar-and-inn the village contained scrambled to gather enough wood to warm the dining area. Shouts and curses could be heard carrying over the bristling wind.
And there, right in the middle of the village, where two vertical beams supported a horizontal one on top, a man hung by his wrists. He wore just enough clothing to keep death at bay, the people wanting instead for him to die a much crueller death.
"Hida, do you believe in the gods?" a young girl with bright, blond hair asked her older sister, perched next to a window within the comforts of their home. A fire crackled in the hearth behind them, and the older girl sighed, running a coarse brush through her sister's hair.
"No."
The young girl started to turn, but her sister grabbed a lock of hair to keep her head in place.
"Keep still, Erlan."
Unfazed, Erlan continued her questions.
"Why?"
When she wouldn't respond, the girl added,
"Mama believes in the gods."
"Then why are you asking me?"
"Because Papa said to listen to you before he left."
"You never listened before."
"But maybe Papa would be alive if he had."
Hida paused, the only thing she'd allowed herself to show from her sister's words. Then she resumed brushing the girl's hair.
"So you'll listen to me, then?" she asked, her voice calm and collected.
Outside the window, Erlan watched a lone figure cloaked in white stalk up to the man hanging by his wrists. Two men and a woman followed close behind, bundled in furs and skins. One of the men held a giant glass jar full of a dark red substance. The other man held only a simple parring knife, but Erlan knew it was the woman that held the deadliest thing of them all, and it was contained in a small wooden box no bigger than her own hand.
"No," Erlan stated simply.
Her sister finally raised her eyes.
"Oh?"
"I believe in them."
The man hanging by his wrists lifted his head, peering at the approaching figures through narrowed eyes. Suddenly, Hida was all too aware on how clearly they were able to see the dying man, and she slowly lowered the brush, keeping a keen eye on her sister's clear, pale face.
"You don't have to watch this," she said softly. She could feel her heart thudding against her chest, but she wouldn't let it show.
"You mean you don't want to watch this," Erlan retorted, keeping her eyes glued on the sight outside. But Hida could hear the slight tremble of her little sister's voice, noticed the way her small, seven-year-old hands clutched at the windowsill. "I believe in the gods," she repeated in a low, all-but-silent whisper.
Hida leaned forward from her seat, slowly wrapping her arms around the girl before resting her chin on her sister's soft hair.
"Why?" she asked softly.
Through the window, the man managed to keep his composure as the man with the knife began cutting away his clothes. However, Hida noticed his expression falter when the other man stepped forward to the figure in white, opening his jar of blood.
When he hung in all his glory, his already pale skin whitening further from the cold, the white-clad figure grabbed the jar, stepping just far out of reach to avoid any kicking on the man's part.
They exchanged words Hida couldn't hear, but it was obviously something the man didn't like. He reared back, his stiff fingers graping at the rope that bounded his hands.
"No!" he screamed. "Please, no!"
Erlan stiffened beneath Hida's arms.
"Why do you believe in them?" Hida tried again, trying to distract them both from what was going to happen.
The men went forward to hold the prisoner still. Satisfied that he wouldn't move, the figure in white stepped up on a built-in ledge on the left pole so that they stood slightly taller than the man, who released another blood-curdling scream, thrashing his head from side-to-side. In moments his dull black hair and pale skin were stained red. Without stepping off, the figure gestured to the woman holding the box.
"Because the gods could save us," Erlan squeaked, and Hida pressed the girl tighter to her chest.
"Now you listen to me, Erlan," Hida said next to her ear, both sets of eyes fixated on the scene in front of them. "Why should we believe in gods that allow this to happen?"
Slowly, the figure opened the box.
"Because he's guilty?"
"Do you believe that?"
Their voices were both strained, but that didn't stop them from speaking.
The figure reached in and grabbed something with two fingers, leaning forward to shove whatever it was it held into the man's mouth.
"No-" he objected, and then was cut off with a weird gurgling sound from his throat.
Erlan was crying freely now. The men holding the prisoner scrambled away quickly, in time for the man's body to jerk and twist, shaking his blood-matted head as he struggled to scream.
Strange black-and-blue boils surfaced his skin almost immediately. Bright, angry veins looked like they were going to burst all over his body. But it was when they began to hear an audible pop-pop-pop followed by a resounding crack! that Erlan let out a strangled scream, whipping around to bury her face into Hida's chest.
Hida held her little sister as tight as she could, choking on her own tears as she watched the man's two bottom ribs suddenly jolt downwards from the middle, quickly followed by the rest.
He wasn't dead, though. His eyes were wide in pain, his mouth open from a scream he couldn't release. Suddenly, his head jerked back, exposing his neck to the cruel sky above, and out sprouted forth a sleek, black, plant-like tendril with thorns glistening red.
Finally, the man's body stilled. The figure in white tossed the box at his feet, gave their companions a few quick commands, and walked away. Anyone who had been outside bowed their head in acknowledgement when the figure passed them, but Hida couldn't help but glare at the retreating figure in nothing but hate. It was a good thing she'd decided to stay inside.
Otherwise, she would most likely have found herself joining the man on the morrow.
"You have to believe," her sister sobbed into her shirt.
Hida said nothing. Instead, she rested a hand on the back of her sister's head and vowed to destroy the Reftin Circle, whatever it took.
~ 1200 Words ~
A/N: Hello! Long time no see to those who know me ;)
Anyways, I was originally going to wait to put this particular chapter up until later in the story, then decided that it's probably a good guage on showing y'all how violent this story can get.
This story is in the works, obviously, and is way darker and grim than other stuff I've previously attempted. Please, for the love of all things holy, if this chapter was too graphic/too much to handle, it gets worse.
Don't say you weren't warned.
On that note! Any feedback is appreciated, and feel free to drop a comment if you want to show some love (or hate) to a particular character!
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On Death's Honor
Fantasy"When you're in a place that darkness thrives, you learn to fear the light." "Why?" "Because the light will kill you faster." ------ For as long as she could remember, Wren has lived a rather unconventional life. She's hunted down trolls, bled out w...
