Veil of shadows

The Encounter at the River

The morning air was cold, still holding onto the last remnants of the night. I wrapped my cloak tightly around myself as I prepared to leave the camp, my mind a storm of emotions. My head still throbbed from the injury I'd sustained during the attack, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the turmoil inside me. The memory of Thomas's lifeless body, his blood staining the ground, haunted me. His death was like a blade in my heart, twisting deeper with each breath I took.

As I readied myself, the shadows whispered to me, their voices a chorus of anger and vengeance. They urged me to unleash my powers, to use the darkness that flowed through me to strike down my enemies. And at that moment, I wanted nothing more than to listen to them. I wanted to make Valen pay for what he had done, for the lives that had been lost because of him.

I strapped a dagger to my side, its cold weight a small comfort. I wasn't just preparing for a conversation—I was preparing for a fight. Every fiber of my being screamed for retribution, and if Valen so much as hinted at betrayal, I would not hesitate to end him.

Lira noticed my agitated state as I gathered my things. She approached me, her eyes filled with concern. "Ophelia, where are you going?"

"Just for a walk," I lied, my voice colder than I intended. "I need some air."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't press me further. "Be careful," she said softly, her gaze lingering on me as I turned away. There was an unspoken understanding between us, a recognition that I was teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something dark.

I didn't look back as I left the camp, my footsteps quick and determined. The path to the river was familiar now, the trees and underbrush blurring into a dark green haze as I moved through them. The early morning light barely penetrated the thick canopy above, casting long shadows on the forest floor. The shadows around me seemed to pulse with anticipation, mirroring the tension in my own heart.

The journey to the river felt longer than usual, each step weighted with the anger and grief I carried. By the time I reached the clearing where the river flowed, I was a bundle of raw nerves, every sense heightened, every muscle tensed for action.

Valen was already there, as I knew he would be. He stood by the water's edge, his back to me, gazing out at the slow-moving current. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, as if he had all the time in the world. That calmness only fueled my anger further. How could he be so composed after everything that had happened?

"Valen!" I called out, my voice sharp and filled with barely restrained fury.

He turned slowly, and when our eyes met, his expression softened in a way that made my blood boil. There was no trace of fear in his gaze, only a wary understanding. "Ophelia," he greeted me, but before he could say anything more, I let the shadows loose.

They surged forward with a force that surprised even me, dark tendrils lashing out like vipers, aiming straight for his heart. Valen's eyes widened, but he didn't move to defend himself. Instead, he raised one hand, as if trying to calm a wild animal.

"Ophelia, wait!" he shouted, but I was beyond listening.

The shadows struck him hard, and he staggered back, one hand clutching his side where my shadows had torn into him. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining his tunic dark. He gritted his teeth, a pained expression crossing his face, but he didn't retaliate. "I'm not your enemy," he said through clenched teeth, struggling to stay on his feet.

"Not my enemy?" I spat, advancing on him as the shadows writhed around me, ready to strike again. "You expect me to believe that after everything that's happened? My people are dead because of you!"