Shadows So Bright

III

Rhaessa

It was a week's journey to their main safehouses. In that time, Rhaessa felt every bruise, scrape, and wound the brute had inflicted on her. The meals of dried meat and half-spoiled fruit, tepid water, and the dusty plains they traveled through did nothing to help her heal. She'd barely had time to bind her bruised ribs before they'd hurried out of the city and away from the evidence of their latest misdeeds.

Rhaessa scanned Nalfa as they passed through its northern entrance. The sleepy town was at the border of the human and gargoyle regions, and people of both clans made this place their home. Small huts and stalls lined dirt roads, and the townspeople went about their day. Sounds of cheery greetings and metal clanging were accompanied by the smell of fresh bread from a bakery down the road. Rhaessa's stomach grumbled at that.

A gargoyle family stood in front of their home, easy to distinguish from the humans with their leathery gray skin, short stature, small wings, and bulbous features. They were looking up at the small child standing on their roof. She tittered nervously as she peered over the ledge while her parents cooed encouragements from below. The girl took a deep breath and jumped, frantically fluttering her wings as she fought to find stability. She was able to finally control her flight and descended, grinning, into the waiting arms of her parents. They cheered for what Rhaessa assumed was her first flight.

Watching them celebrate a childhood milestone, Rhaessa felt her throat clench. Sometimes, when the weight of the life she and Minza led felt heavy, she began to think about the 'what ifs.' What would've it been like if she was never driven from her home or forced to watch her people be slaughtered and imprisoned. What if she and Minza hadn't had to fight tooth and nail for every penny as children while constantly worrying their secrets would be uncovered. Maybe they could have lived a different life, one that didn't leave them adrift and wandering the nation as nomads. Perhaps they could've become healers, chefs, or farmers and eventually found spouses, had children, and settled down.

Rhaessa was firm in tamping those ideations down. Even if she and her sister did decide to live a quiet life, she knew they would never be content. They were too restless, too jaded, too angry for normalcy. It was easier to fall into bitter feelings instead of hope, and these emotions made it easy for Rhaessa to keep the grief at bay. Wrath and anguish were sometimes the only things that kept her moving.

Minza always told her to never cross a line she could not come back from or get swept up in the violence and shadows they were born into as Wraiths. Although it was how they'd pulled themselves out of poverty, being a mercenary was a dangerous line to walk for both their lives and souls.

"Taking a life must always be a necessity even in our job," Minza once said. "We do what we do to survive, but we have to hold on to what makes us who we are instead of taking pleasure in what we do. Never forget your humanity."

Sometimes, Rhaessa feared she was already too far gone.

The sisters reached a small inn at the south end of town and dismounted from their horses. They handed the reins to the stable boy, and Rhaessa tossed him an extra silver coin with a wink. His eyes lit up as he led their steeds away.

When Minza pushed the door to the inn open, they were hit with a wave of cool air that immediately provided relief from the arid heat of the central summer. Rhaessa scanned the mostly empty dining area of the keep. A few drunks already deep in their cups and some quiet travelers eating meals were the only occupants of the room. Her attention became fixated on their food.

"Supper first and then we get our affairs in order," Rhaessa said, and her sister hummed in agreement.

"Braun!" Minza called.