Legacy (Daughter of War #2)

Chapter 6: A Long Night

Music is Salem's Secret by Peter Gundry. Play it!

Media is a quick sketch of Constantine. Been quite a while since I did one for her!

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"Get your arse off the ground and close your mouth," are Gilbert's cheerful first words to me. But I can sense the unease rippling beneath them.

I survey my surroundings. Everywhere, there is death-literally, breaking the tranquil stillness of the forest. Bodies are strewn all over the ground; dark blood glitters under the moonlight. All of the corpses are mutilated, one way or another: severed heads, ripped limbs, disembowelled guts...

It takes me a moment to realise that I had done all this.

I had killed them all.

I feel sick. My limbs start to tremble. They had been men once, and I had slaughtered them, as though they were no more than cows and pigs and chickens at the butcher's. I had killed ghosts before, but this was different. Those ghosts had been long dead, had been called to the Pietists a long time ago. These were live human beings, who so happened to be infected with some sort of curse. I should have tried to save them. I shouldn't have killed them-murdered them.

The worst part is that I can't even remember how they had died at my hands.

I can only vaguely remember the fighting: me laughing in exhilaration, drinking in the rush of the battle; Thorel crying out to me, practically begging me to get a hold on myself. Then after that, the battle rush had lost its grip on me, and I slipped back into my own mind.

I retch onto the ground.

"Constantine, get up," commands Gilbert, his tone laced with power.

It's awakening, murmurs Abner.

I can't stop to consider Abner's sudden words. I take Gilbert's extended hand and haul myself up automatically. Some part of me rebels, refusing to get up, wanting to mourn, but it can't prevail against a compulsion. I wriggle uncomfortably. Gilbert and I had promised each other to never use our compulsion unless the situation calls for it. This isn't the first time he has used his ability on me, and I suppose that the situation is suitable enough for a compulsion, yet I can never get used to the sensation of simply being forced into someone'd will. It's as if someone were clamping a yoke around my neck.

"Calm down," says Gilbert.

Stop, I want to tell him. Stop this. I squeeze my eyes shut. I'm forced to take in deep breaths. My nerves settle, and soon enough, I've stopped trembling.

Gilbert's compulsion subsides; my head clears. Only then do I realise that I've been leaning heavily against him for support. I step away.

It's awakening, Abner says again. He sounds frantic, and he's talking to himself. A sense of excitement and fear washes throughout me, stemming from him.

What's awakening? I'm finally in the right mind to ask him.

He's grim. I'll tell you about it later, he says. Now, what do you see?

Bodies. Bodies of the people I killed, I reply. I almost want to throw up again at the thought, but somehow manage to rein myself in.

No. What do you see?

I understand now. The necromancer in me isn't screaming as loudly as before, to my relief, although I still have a slight chill in my spine. A peaceful aura drapes over the area, in spite of the signs of violence inside it. In fact, it seems almost...serene.