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Chapter Thirty One:The Man With No Name •EDITED•

October, Year 483
Forest of Lacau
State of Nicia
North

. . .Come with me, or your brother dies.

On hearing those words Edythe suddenly felt like screaming. But every word she could think of choked her.

The unsaid sentences stabbed into her lungs and drew numbness into her limbs. She shook from a mix of hate and rage. Unspeakable profanities danced around her mind, but before she let loose Edythe took a second to consider what her mother would say.

She would tell me to. . . The nine year old took in deep breath. She would tell me to think and stay calm.

Think.

Edythe tried, but she couldn't picture it—a world without her brother. It just didn't make any sense. It never did.

It didn't seem possible that there could be a time when she would lose Esau forever. She had never thought of that.

He could be dead already.

Until now, Edythe had always linked her future—any future that she could ever live in—with her brother's. Marriage, school, jobs. . .  Why had she always thought that they could be together forever?

Why had she been lying to herself all this time?

Why can't I protect him? She would rather have the man kill them both than have to choose. There was no choice to make in the first place.

But, how dare he? Edythe glared into the fog below then at the gloves clutched between her fingers.

"What if I can't choose?" Finally, she set her eyes on the man in white and he flashed her a slow, dashing smile.

Ignoring his obvious satisfaction, she continued, "what will you do?"

He let out a quiet and restrained laugh then played with his ivory cufflinks as though his actions were an answer of their own. Without haste he turned his hands over and preened himself, letting Edythe understand that he was toying with her.

He was the one in control now, he showed her.

"You really don't value your brother's life, do you?" His voice was filled amusement, and she flinched.

Edythe seemed to have lost the upper hand—if she ever had it.

Maybe you don't appreciate your life. A small voice in her head hissed in reply and Edythe was reminded of her experience moments ago, when the man had predicted her actions—almost as though he had seen into her mind.

A trickle of sweat burned down her cheek. It traced a path in blood along the wound that had been slashed into her skin when she had been too concerned about Esau to notice. With the pain came realization. Edythe finally accepted that she wasn't in peak condition anymore. She was injured and her wounds were exposed to the fog.

She couldn't fight off the man, much less kill him. Not anymore at least.

For the first time in a long while, she was outmatched—and it showed with every moment that passed.