The Wolf of the Wilds

The Long Road to Redemption Pt.1

Hello! This isn't a proper update to WotW, but one will be here soon. This is a short story that takes place when Helena was 17. It's quite a dark tale, so be warned, but if you're up to date with the story it should be free of spoilers. This was originally going to be a thank you for 100K, but it's taken a while for me to finish (It's longer than expected so it's going to be in multiple parts). Enjoy!

Helena ran her hand upwards, along the wood, reaching for the frayed fabric above. She tugged it aside, allowing a slither of light to illuminate the dusty air. It struck the yellowing pages of her book and she settled deeper into the sack of flour at her back, her eyes moving back and forth over the printed words.

The place would jolt occasionally as one of the wheels struck a pot or stone, but the steady beat of horse hooves and the stillness of the storage carriage came as a comfort.

In that moment, she was lost to it. Her mind far away in some distant place. As she took in the words, there was no knife around her neck. No convoy of assassins up ahead. Instead she was in a world of masked vigilantes, soaring over teaming cities, full of technologies she could barely comprehend. There she was a force for good, so bent upon the defeat of evil that she would risk her very life. The drama, intrigue and the action left her craving more.

At the end of a chapter, she stopped, fingers caught between the pages as she held the volume to her chest. Looking to the ceiling, lips parted, she found her heart burdened with lead and mercury.

She often found herself likening herself more and more to the villains of the stories she read. They were the ones with darkened pasts. The legacies that they couldn't ever escape from. No chance to ever be anything but what they were. One or twice, the odd character would find redemption. But they usually ended up dying shortly after so there was no comfort in that.

A wry smirk played at her lip and she continued reading. "I suppose at least I can pretend for a while longer," she hummed, quickly glancing up at the window. Yes, she definitely still had time to devour some more.

The journey north had been surprisingly short. It was unusual to get jobs in their homeland as few could stand the harsh temperatures and expansive scrublands of the south. Most of society favoured the cooler temperatures above the mountains or in lands across the seas; this was an anomaly. Guaxa. It was a mixed city, populated by a mixture of vampires, werewolves and the odd aloja.

Shoving her nose back into her book, she resolutely ignored the remainder of the journey. She only emerged when they came to a standstill and the doors to the carriage were thrown open.

Instead of scrambling to hide her book, she just lazily turned her head to meet the annoyed gaze of Amos. "Lena, have you been reading this entire time?" he asked, placing his hands on his hips. Helena observed the way his muscles flexed as he did so, trying to decide whether or not it was deliberately done.

"Not entirely," she replied, wiggling out of her comfortable hiding place and standing atop a pile of folded fabrics. "I had a nap for about ten minutes back when we passed the toll roads." She was well aware of the slight tilt of her lips and the way she allowed the corner of her book to peek out from behind her leg. A small defiance. A slight hint of boldness. How exciting.

The other assassin muttered something under his breath and shook his head. "Your father and mother wouldn't be impressed," he pointed out.

Keeping her gaze low, she darted from the fabric's to the edge of the door, foot dangling from the slight ledge. "They aren't here. Anyway, I think they've quite given up on me at this point. So focused on Allon and whether or not him and his sparkly new mate are going to start popping out pups. Me reading is of little consequence as long as I kill our targets." There was some bite to her words, but it was muted. Amos and Lin were vastly more senior than her, and there was the genuine concern that they would report back to her parents about her behaviour.