Life or Death

Chapter Fifteen

            I wake up to complete darkness. I could have something covering my eyes, it could be night, or I could be dead. But no, I could not be dead, because it feels like someone is ripping my skull open. I lift my hand to feel my head before realizing that both of my hands are tied behind my back to a tree. My eyes, still fuzzy and barely able to see, adjust and I register the fire a few feet away. I look at my surroundings to try and make sense of where I am and realize we're still in the forest.

Panic starts to fill me then. Where are Andra and Raiden? Are they alive? What is happening? Am I going to die?

"Ness, calm down, or they'll kill us out of annoyance." A voice beside me mutters. Raiden.

"Where are we? Are you guys okay?"

"Well, we could be better," Andra says on the other side of me. She has a nasty black eye and a busted lip. I can't imagine I look any better.

"What happened to both of you?"

Raiden takes a breath. "We were building the fire when we heard a scream. It sounded just like you, so we ran to it. only to be attacked. We tried to fight back, but they knocked us out."

"But where did the scream come from?"

"No idea."

I furrow my brows in confusion. There could've been anyone in the forest; it's not like we were the only ones traveling through it. Still, how have we not run into anyone until now, especially since Andra and Raiden heard the scream so close to them?

Something's wrong, my mind urges. Something's coming, if it isn't the thing that has you and your friends captured right now.

That jolts me out of my trance. "Who has us captured?"

"Captured is a strong word, but I suppose that would be me," a gravelly voice booms. Just then, a small light appears far away on our right, and it becomes bigger as it moves toward us. I make out the shape of a very tall man holding a torch. Only, he's not holding a torch.

The fire is coming out of him, encompassing his entire hand, yet not burning him at all.

He must see my shock because he says, "Oh, don't look so surprised. Your family isn't the only one capable of inheriting magic. Isn't that right, Andra Nyx?"

"Go to hell," she says with a tight voice. I have no idea what they are talking about, but it doesn't matter. We could be dead in a few minutes anyway.

"Uh, sorry, but who are you?" I ask. Probably not the best thing to ask someone who could burn me to a crisp if he wanted to, and he most likely did, considering he already knows who I am and doesn't look happy about it.

"Nobody important, not by your pretty little standards."

I can almost hear Andra roll her eyes. "He's Brandon Three Fingers, named King of the Bandits, although he probably gave himself that title."

Brandon doesn't flinch at Andra's backhanded comment. In fact, he smiles, and I can see that one of his front teeth is gold.

"Why are you called Brandon Three Fingers?" I ask.

Without so much as a look in my direction, he holds up the hand that isn't currently on fire. It's a mangled, scarred mess, with only three fingers remaining. "That's not even the worst of what your father did to us." He gestures to the trees around the fire, and I notice there are people, maybe two or three, standing guard just out of sight.

"My father?"

"Oh, father dearest didn't tell you?" he sneers. "Well, allow me to paint the picture for you.