Blades of Grass

A Song

One blood-curdling scream echoed from the room where Marshall had dragged Hema.

Moments later, Marshall sauntered back in, casually dusting off his hands. "She'll talk now," he said with a smirk.

My stomach churned. "What did you do to her?" I whispered, rising to my feet. Freyja and Aesar followed close behind.

As we moved down the corridor, we passed a cracked door. Curiosity tugged at me, and I glanced inside. Gertrude and Presz lay curled up on the bed together, their small bodies intertwined in sleep. As if they'd found solace in their similar body sizes.

But there was no time to linger. Reaching Marshall's door, I hesitated. My hand trembled as I pushed it open slowly, the hinges creaking.

The room was dark, unnaturally cold, the kind of chill that sinks deep into your bones. My breath fogged in the air.

Huddled in the far corner, Hema sat with her back to us, her knees pulled tight against her chest, her body trembling.

"Fuck you..." Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. "Are you proud of yourself? Using someone's deepest trauma as a weapon?" Tears streaked down her face, her words laced with bitterness and pain.

My eyes widen. The scene of Hema cowering in fear and pain shocks me. She was kicking our asses just 2 hours ago --impervious. And now... she has been reduced to a sobbing mess. Whatever Marshall did... too cruel.

"What happened?" My voice quietly fills the room. We approach Hema.

"Don't come near!" She barked. "Let me leave this place. You'll never hear about me again."

"Wait." I refute. "I don't know what Marshall did. But, what I do know is, as long as you cooperate we aren't seeking revenge or malice." 

Hema pauses for a second, her breath hitching.

"I'll talk to one of you three." She wipes her face. "You, boy."

I glance at Freyja and Aesar; they nod in silent agreement. Finding a nearby chair, I drag it toward her, spin it around, and sit, leaning my arms on the backrest.

"We're alone now," I tell her softly. "I'm ready to start fresh, but I need you to talk."

She jerks her head toward me, eyes flashing. "About what?"

"For starters, could you face me?

She shuffles around. Turning her body towards me, her knees up and far, with her arms resting on them.

"Thank you," I say, trying to ease the tension. "Now, why did you chase me down?"

"To confirm my suspicions, that you're one of Qudia's vessels."

"And? What were you going to do with that information?"

A dark smirk crosses her lips. "You didn't hear me fantasizing about killing all her offspring? Then her?"

"What?" My face tightens with shock. "You think you can kill a god?"

Her smirk fades. "Not yet... but one day. I've been scouting wide and far for enhancements, and training day and night in preparation."

"What has Qudia done to you to foster this hatred? From what I know, she just took your godling away."

"She took away my salvation..." Her gaze drifts, lost in memory. "I was a normal kid. Normal life, normal parents. The Southern province didn't have much kick to it. But, one day we moved villages. It was supposed to be peaceful..." Her voice starts choking up. "My dad really wanted to start a gold mining gig. The village resided next to a beautiful river, sourced from a spring spewing forth from a nearby mountain. A perfect place apparently, according to my dad."