WitchHunter ✔️

The Mother of the Raven

Hale

The screaming wakes me. I jerk upright in bed, my skin hot and prickly. Screaming. Loud, but far away, hundreds of voices churning and roiling together like the rapids on the Fie river, on whose banks my town of Vetton resides.

I leap from my new sheets, hastily applied after the explosion earlier today, dressed only in a pair of cotton trousers, and lean out the open window. The screams come from just offshore, over the edge of the cliff, just out of view. Vjengardta. People are screaming in Vjengardta.

The shrill sound rattles my bones as it courses through me. Unsettling. All those screams. Why are they screaming? That never used to happen six years ago. This must be why the Ace told me to keep my windows shut.

I turn from the empty window, still groggy from sleep, and stumble over my boots in my mad dash for the door. My palms bash hard against the rough wood floor, the wardrobe next to me shaking from the impact. A grunt escapes me as I rise, brushing my tender palms against my trousers, not bothering with a shirt before unlocking my chamber door.

The screaming continues as I burst into the hallway, slamming into someone and sending them stumbling backward. "Ace!" I say, startled.

She is clothed only in shorts and a long sleeve undershirt, clearly having been startled from sleep mere moments ago. Her feet are bare, and her hair is messy and tousled, falling messily around her shoulders.

She picks herself up from the floor, crossing her arms over her chest. "Your eyes, Hale." She whispers urgently. She holds up a hand, shielding my eyes from any other prying ones, advancing toward me. Her palm is dimly lit orange, illuminated slightly by my glowing irises.

I retreat back into my room under her advances, and she shuts the door behind her. "Kindre Fie, Hale, what's wrong?"

I like it when she says my name. It used to irk me. When did that change? Maybe it's just temporary. Our ranks require something more formal. But I like the sound of my name on her lips.

"Why are you up?" She demands in a whisper.

I glance at my windows, free from all glass. The screams still float up to us on the ocean breeze, mingling with the salt. "The screaming."

She gives a short sigh, nodding. "Vjengardta. I'm sure you'll get used to it eventually."

"Why are they screaming?" The sound is rattling. Even for someone like me, who has ended the lives of so many lochri, the sound of them all screaming from the rocky prison grates against my bones . The Ace gathers her hair back behind her shoulders and I catch a glimpse of black ink just barely peeking out of her sleeve on the back of each hand, an unseen tattoo.

"That may be my fault." She says, almost sheepishly, glancing out toward the sea. "After you left for Vetton, I ended up being sent to Vjengardta a lot more. I guess it was easier for Velius to see my failures when he wasn't so focussed on your successes. I was angry, and they were torturing the man in the cell next to me, so I began screaming. One by one, others started to join in until the stone walls echoed with the screams of everyone imprisoned within. Whenever someone was being tortured, we joined in on the screaming." She shifts uncomfortably. "They didn't stop when I was released. Now it just haunts the town. We mostly sound-proofed Fortress, so at least the Hunters can sleep."

Torture. I guess its not a surprise that torture takes place in Vjengardta. It was always implied. I had just never known for sure. What difference does it make anyway? They're lochri. They're unnatural beings keen on bringing Octaven to her knees. "What's it like, inside?"