Shadows Bleed

VIII

VIII

It was the next day that things shifted from bad to worse.

I barely slept the night after the battle with the Inquisition's force, the faces of the dead flashing through my mind endlessly, haunting me. The physical burns on my face from the Seeker's blast did little to ease my suffering.

Robert came to see me a few hours after the battle. The flames outside cracked loudly, voraciously engulfing the Enforcer. There would be no evidence left of what we'd done, of what I had done.

"Are you okay?" he asked. When I didn't reply, he carried on. "You were amazing out there, you know. The way you fought, like a ghostly dancer, spinning a graceful tale, was wonderfully impressive."

"How is it impressive?" I snapped back. "I killed a man today. His blood is on my hands and you're praising me for it?"

"You've killed before, haven't you?" he was caught unprepared by my outburst, his voice wavering as he spoke. "They say nine Inquisitors and over sixty soldiers died at your hands during the three years that the Crimson Sorrow mocked the Imperium."

"That's one way of putting it," I sighed sadly. "That's the way the Inquisition puts it in their efforts to portray me as nothing more than a killer. They leave out that, in pursuing me, fifty soldiers were twice led by full Aspect Inquisition teams into Vaal ambushes. I only ever killed one or two at a time, when I had no other option. If I faced more I would run. I'm not the insensate killer they say I am, I just had a long lucky streak. Even my luck ran out the day they caught me.

"I never wanted to kill; I was driven to it and just so happened to have the skills from my father to be good at it. I've killed again today; I guess that brings my total to seventy-three."

"The price of living is not cheap," he tried to comfort me.

"Neither is freedom."

"Well, the crew are grateful; we would not have survived without you today."

"You also wouldn't have been in this situation if you'd left me behind."

"Maybe so, but no amount of sorrowful reflections will change the past. So cheer up, Aeriae, you've done more than take life today; you've given it also."

I forced a weak smile as he stood to leave. The words did little to comfort me, but they helped, even if it was in the tiniest way. They also made what happened the following evening all the more painful.

***

The fragments of S'har began to burn sharply in my chest when I walked in to the galley for breakfast the following morning. Unable to deduce why, I ignored it as the crew cheered and applauded my arrival. Even Jarne was grinning and clapping vigorously.

"To our little Ballerina!" Bentin, Luthar's brother, said, raising his earthen cup to the sky.

"Hear hear!" the others echoed and I couldn't help but feel gratitude; they could have hated me for bringing such violence to them, for bringing about the deaths of five of their own. But they chose not to dwell on that. In place of estrangement, they welcomed me with open arms and clapped me heartily on the back as I sat down to eat.

"Well done Red," Jarne said, sliding over to me with an outlandish smile plastered on his lips. A rare sight indeed. "I hate to say I doubted you at first, but you saved our asses out there yesterday. We owe you."

He lifted his glass to the sky.

"It's I who owe you," I said, raising my cup to his. "For allowing me to travel with you thus far and accommodating me so well. I am truly grateful."