Until the Last Drop of My Blood (The Legends Saga #1)

Chapter 2

I woke feeling light-headed. Just as I was about to drift back to sleep, something solid struck my face, jolting me awake.

Suddenly aware of my surroundings and recalling being knocked out moments ago, panic gripped me as I realized I was tied to a tree, ancient roots constricting around my tiny frame, making it hard to breathe.

I stood on a platform of piled trunks, facing a stretching forest with its somber trees, while behind it, the endless sea glistened in the sunlight. Encircling me were ancient stone pillars inscribed with protective runes, and ahead loomed a large wooden pyre with a bowl of dark red liquid that eerily resembled blood—an offering to the Keepers.

I struggled against the iron cuffs binding my hands, suppressing my magic, which I couldn't break free from.

In front of me stood the priest of Valor, accompanied by a group of people in their finest linen tunics and dresses, embroidered with vines and leaves in earthen colors. Their movements were as graceful and smooth as a serene river, their kind eyes and warm auras almost tempting me to befriend them-until someone in the crowd shouted, "Witch!"

I squeezed my eyes shut as eggs pelted me, followed by stones, wine bottles, and whatever else they could find.

"Burn her!"

It felt like a fairytale my older brother once told me, but I was living it now. I couldn't entirely blame these people. Dark magic was forbidden, and while these descendants inherited their magic naturally, mine came from drinking poisons mixed with my blood—a dangerous practice.

The Terrestrial Council executed sorcerers because of past rebellions and their catastrophic consequences in the past. But contrary to their beliefs, I hadn't learned sorcery from a book or teacher. It was ingrained in me since birth. I used it not to harm innocents but to survive and protect my brothers. Besides, I couldn't rid myself of this magic even if I wanted to-it called to me relentlessly.

The priest and his guards approached. He wore a dark crimson velvet robe adorned with strange symbols, while the guards held vials of sacred oil with purifying herbs. I flinched as they poured oil over my long, jet-black hair.

"May Valor reward us for removing you," the priest intoned, beginning an incantation invoking the elemental spirit of fire, while the descendants joined in chanting.

"O antiqui spiritus, vocem nostram audite,

In hoc sacro loco omnes congregamur.

Lumine aurorae et lunae pallida luce,

Terram purgate ab umbris consiliis."

Panic surged through me as I recognized the incantation—they were going to burn me alive.

I attempted a spell, but the cuff sparked, and my hands burned internally like acid.

I should've been more cautious. Now facing death, I should've been terrified, but instinctively, I remained calm.

The priest's magic surged, causing pebbles around him to levitate. I lifted my chin defiantly, meeting his gaze. "Burn my soul, but know this: I'll await you in the underworld and haunt you to your dying day."

It was a desperate threat, but the priest remained focused on his incantation.

"Ita sit, per gratiae ignem,

Hanc obscuritatem de loco nostro purgate.

Uniti stamus, fortes et liberi,

In lumine puritatis."

Suddenly, the tree's roots that bound me withdrew, pulling me into its trunk like a vacuum.

Abruptly, I landed on a familiar bamboo-bark flooring—back in our house. Instead of my brothers, I found a stranger, pacing gracefully, inspecting our belongings. He wore a regal deep green velvet coat that trailed to his ankles, over a plain white doublet and sturdy leather trousers tucked into a black boots. His medium-length, wavy brown hair was half-tied at the back. Beside him stood a black panther the size of his waist, its eyes gleaming gold with vigilance.

Recognition dawned upon me—he was the man from the woods.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded sharply.

He halted, his sharp brown eyes scrutinizing me. "You look a mess."

I smirked mockingly, wiping yolk and blood from my skin. "If you're going to kill me, do it now. You're wasting my time."

He arched an eyebrow but made no move. "So, where is your brother?"

"I know nothing," I lied defiantly and then grabbed an arrow from my back to shoot, "Ignis Secare!"

He wasn't expecting the attack, and my spell caught him off guard, though he managed to dodge at the last second, but not completely—my arrow grazed his arm. The panther growled angrily, poised to strike, but the man raised his hand, commanding it to stand down. Despite this, its menacing snarl and sharp teeth remained fixed on me.

He winced briefly from the pain, then snapped his fingers, conjuring a flurry of pollen from his hands. I almost laughed at the simplicity of his counter, but suddenly found myself gasping for breath, clutching my chest as the magic took effect. I staggered backward, struggling to regain composure.

"Well, that's gratitude for you, huh?—saving you from being burned alive." I sank to my knees, desperate for air. "I'm waiting."

I looked up at him defiantly. "Let's not pretend you saved me out of kindness. You need something from me. But I do not know who you're talking about."

Talin's gaze was both amused and unyielding as he replied, "Kindness? Hardly. I saved you because I figured out, witch... that a pile of ashes isn't very helpful for my plans."

I calmed myself, refusing to panic despite the swirling black smoke that surrounded me as I tried to counter his magic, albeit with limited success.

Casually picking a blackberry from the table, he popped it into his mouth. "Are you absolutely certain you know nothing?"

"If I did, I'd rather burn than tell you," I spat back, eyes narrowing.

Anger flickered in his sharp gaze, his controlled smile barely concealing it. In an instant, I was back in front of the descendants who sought my death, the priest standing before me.

Bound again, I struggled to breathe, my vision blurring.

"Fine! Fine! I'll tell you what I know, you prick!" I shouted, desperation overcoming me.

Once more inside the house, I glared at him, noticing a fresh, smoking wound on his arm where my curse had struck. If it hurt, he didn't show it.

"Speak," he demanded.

I gasped, my lungs burning for air. "Stop... what you're doing to me first."

Ignoring my plea, he insisted, "No, you speak first."

"Please... let me—"

"No."

I clenched my fists, gasping for breath. "He's in the North! He won't return home today," I lied defiantly.

His brow arched again, eyes flickering to the amulet around my neck before he forced a smile. "Very well. Let's wait and see if you're telling the truth."

Relief flooded me as oxygen filled my lungs again, collapsing to the floor in exhaustion.

The panther circled me, its presence both threatening and ominous.

"I will kill you," I swore through gritted teeth, freezing as the door burst open.

"Afia!"

The man smirked, blade at my throat. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do the same to you."

Darkness enveloped me once more.