Fireborn

Epilogue ¦ Forsworn

Five years later (present day) ...

When people look at me, they see a monster.

I could be prepping for a mighty battle or simply walking down the track toward the market. The villagers stare at me in fear and awe regardless, and their wary glances betray the same fear.

Will she kill me?

At first, it was badass. I'd smirk and square my shoulders, and they'd all turn away like scared little children.

Now it just pisses me off because it makes my life difficult. When I smell the stench of fear, I have to repress the urge to shout with rage.

Just remember what Peter said. Breathe in, breathe out. Calm.

The butcher stares up at me with a suspicious look as I approach the stall. All his customers have dispersed like schools of fish before a shark. He glares at me, and I can almost read his thoughts.

Will she demand to have sausages for free? Will she stab me in the guts with her horns if I refuse?

He reaches down in what he probably thinks is a stealthy move. But I can hear every sound he makes: the rustling of meat paper, the swishing linen of his shirt, and the scuffing of shoes on a wooden floor. It's hard to mistake the scraping of metal on metal.

It's almost cute how this little fellow he thinks he can kill me with his meat cleaver.

You don't stand a prayer, old man.

I refuse to attack him, no matter how much my Fireborn nature presses me to do so. He's no real threat. His fear pheromones stink like boiled cabbage, which means he won't strike unless I do first. In cases like this, it's far more powerful to defy his expectations.

So I walk up to the register, pay, take my sausages, and leave.

Fuck you.

I won't give the villagers a reason to justify their hatred of me. It's almost impossible to believe these people used to be my friends and neighbors. Most of them won't even look at me now.

Not after the war.

Apart from the Fireborn, only a few friends have stood by my side, but they've gone their separate ways. Bragda, my faithful friend and sister, is serving in the Adventurer's Guild for a year to earn gold. Upon her return, she plans to start a family with her partner.

When the Guild rejected me as a potential risk, Bragda wanted to rip her acceptance letter in half. But I couldn't deny her the chance to fulfill her dream.

So I asked Peter to fight by her side in my stead. At first, he refused. He insisted that I needed his protection, what with carrying the burden of the Amulet of Triumph. He's terrified someone will find out our secret and try to harm me.

But I made him an offer he couldn't refuse. I told him that if he helped Bragda, we could use the gold to build a house together in the countryside. Maybe even start a family. 

I'd never seen him give me such a beautiful, broad smile. 

But now I miss him terribly. The darkness of the amulet is wearing my soul thin, like talons scraping across my heart a bit more each day. 

The amulet leaves scars on my soul that ache and throb. And Peter isn't here to take away the pain.

Even though I keep telling myself they're only gone for one more month, my patience is wearing thin. Every day the Gatál sympathizers grow bolder. Followers of Lord Hesse and Lord Darius. It's only a matter of time before the Ministry drafts me again to quell an uprising.