Wings of Shadow

Chapter 14

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MARZIA

The little cottage sat in the far end of a small clearing in the woods, surrounded by the naked trunks of old evergreens that covered almost every inch of the Illyrian territory she had come to love. Any of the paths that led to it were covered by a fresh blanket of snow, white and undisturbed.

The house was made of round river stones and rough dark wood with two rickety steps leading to the wide entrance door, dating to an earlier winter where she had accidentally broken some of the nails holding them together. The roof was gabled, thatched, and covered in at least one foot of snow. Near the middle, the escape of a fireplace stood out, black with soot but otherwise cold. There was a small window to the left, stained with grime from her cooking inside.

That cottage she called home was half-buried in the snow and surrounded by trees that provided her with the privacy she needed. It was perfect for an Illyrian warrior who longed peace and quiet - a place away from the war camps and the prying eyes of those who only wished harm.

Or so she thought.

Marzia and Azriel had winnowed to the far end of the clearing, planning to walk the rest of the way to avoid any unwelcome surprises. The chilled morning air filled up her lungs when she breathed while her heart pounded in her chest. She felt nervous as she let Azriel lead the way. They both stopped, however, when they took a good look at the house. She gasped as she peaked over Azriel's shoulder, absorbing the scene that was laid in front of her eyes. Her precious cottage, her safe haven, had been ransacked. The window had been smashed to bits and the door had almost been ripped off its hinges. She tightened a hand closer to her chest, the adrenaline speeding up the beating of her heart.

Azriel pulled a dagger out of his leathers and slid it softly into her empty hand. His shadows swirled dangerously around him, spreading to his surrounding areas with dizzying speed. Without a word, she placed her feet into the fighting position he taught her back in Velaris.

"They are gone for now, but they will be back." He said, and she noticed how he didn't ease his shoulders.

"How do you know?" Panic was starting to taint her voice.

"I just do."

A shiver ran down her spine, but she wouldn't let her emotions take control as she moved forward. Her fingers were tight over the polished handle of the dagger in her hands. She was glad that Azriel had forced her to practice sparring, and that either him or Cassian went against her at least once a week. After all, she had to learn all the basics again, her abilities were useless now that she had no... that her body was not the same as before. It had been tough, but at least she wouldn't be caught unaware by whatever danger awaited.

"Is the house empty?" She asked, her eyes fixed on the crumbling door.

Azriel's shadows swirled away, darting among the evergreens and sliding inside the cottage. The seconds he took felt longer than usual, but as soon as the confirmation was received, Marzia darted up the steps while Azriel stayed behind, keeping watch.

The inside was a mess of scattered objects and misplaced utensils all over the wooden floor. It was complete chaos, as if the doer meant more than looking for her valuables. At some point, that little cottage in the woods had been her sanctuary, her safe place away from everything. Now, it was nothing more than a collection of broken things. She blinked, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for it. They couldn't be burglars, she barely owned anything so it must have been for something else. Maybe it was related to the presence they felt last time they visited, something - or someone - responsible for her wings. She shook her head to dismiss her thoughts and remind herself what needed to be done. The faster she gathered her stuff, the sooner they would get the hell out of that place.