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F O U R T E E N

"Kill me" she found herself whispering after a while. Every soul heard her. Kazimirs' grip on her was long gone, as she looked up from her father's lifeless body at the man behind all her problems.

"Kill me how my father was killed! Validate your manliness to all these cowards" She cried, motioning around with her arms that miraculously held energy within them to be able to point towards the wrongdoers.

The northern men watched with surprise followed on by fearful eyes at the young female's sudden burst. Of course it was to be expected, after all her father had been killed, yet the reaction from her was not. Only the most bravest or foolish of hearts could ask for death at the hands of Kazimir. He was ruthless. Not like those men that stood cowardly, watching Barakah, could ever muster the courage to be killed at the hands of their leader. Did she not see how easy it was for their leader to mercilessly kill those on her land? Without any remorse, guilt or conscience?

Each and every single one of them gulped, including Anton, not knowing what Kazimirs next move would be. Perhaps he would grant the girl her last wish. She had done what others wouldn't even dare to do, so it was justified her consequence would be unimaginable.

Barakah winced slightly, the tears long gone. A streak of determination reigned across her eyes the moment her father's once alive body crumbled and it's corpse became one with nature. She now looked at the world differently. She'd have to be a mother and father to herself from now on, and the only one she could trust-would only trust-was herself.

"Ukhodite" spat the Northerner in his language, his gaze never straying from the girl before him. Everyone scurried away, not wanting to anger him more, otherwise, they'd be at the receiving end of his sword. And Lord help anyone then.

[ Leave]

Within a second everyone vanished, leaving the two alone. Kazimir switched the fire lit torch to his other hand, walking towards the little girl. Her head was held high, something he'd never witnessed before from her. Or any one for that matter before him.

"You wouldn't want that" mused Kazimir, walking around her in circles, observing her demeanor. She seemed strangely calm for a murder which happened right before her eyes. The murder of her father if one was to be precise. She didn't bother replying, unsure of the unpredictableness from the mans stature. She felt like a deer being circled by the lion.

He came to a stop before her, leaning out his large hand and grasping her chin with his thumb and index. Before he could go any further, Barakah jolted from his straying touch and landed herself in the snow. Completely at his mercy.

"Get up" she heard him say calmly. As if he didn't cause someone to die. As if he wasn't the root cause of all her misfortunes. As if this was his norm. The wind blew fiercely across her face, as the snow it carried lay across her eyelashes. Yes. She could not see things clearly and nor did she want to. She just wanted the tearing in her heart to go away and take residence elsewhere.

"Get up!" He repeated loudly this time. Barakah didn't. If she was to die, then die she would. She didn't know how she'd carry on without her only family, out here in foreign lands and if this is what god wanted, then so be it. She would die a martyr. Then she wouldn't have to face anyone in shame, but rather pride.

In rage, Kazimir positioned his sword above her body, bringing it down with such velocity, Barakah was sure tonight was her last day on earth. Her eyes closed with tears cascading down her supple cheek, sending a final prayer to her Lord. But the hit never came.

Instead, the sword was lodged deeply into the snow beside her. She could hear his heavy breathing, or perhaps it was her own. There was too much adrenaline to notice what had happened. Instantly she stood up, coming face to chest with him. He glared down at the girl, her face red and his equally as terrifying.

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