Cursed

by Casey Odell

  “Sanre?” Bren turned to her, his eyes wide in surprise. “Miss Claire, you surprise me more and more. What could a lady want in Sanre?”

  Claire was speechless for a second, her mouth hanging open as she searched for an answer. She finally shrugged and said, “Why not? I’m curious to see it all, good and bad.”

  Bren laughed and shook his head. He turned back to Farron and motioned with his arm to the forest on the left. “Well then, lead the way.”

  Claire breathed a sigh of relief. What kind of town was Sanre Du Lore anyway?

  “We will rest here for the evening,” Aeron declared several paces ahead of her.

  Claire snapped out of the daze that she’d been walking in for the latter part of the day. With no one to talk to, she had tried counting the trees but gave up after she reached two hundred. What was the point, anyway? The forest seemed to stretch on forever in all directions.

  Light streamed through the treetops and faded as the sun made its final descent from the sky. Her feet and legs ached from the night before, and with today’s trek it was surprising her legs didn’t give out from under her.

  “I’ll patrol the area,” Farron said before he took off into the trees.

  Aeron turned to Bren. “How are you at building fires?”

  “Not bad, I suppose.” The General shrugged.

  “Great!” Aeron exclaimed. He turned to Claire. “Us men will go build a fire. I want you to get a feel for that fancy new sword of yours.”

  Claire raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. “And what exactly should I be doing with it, teacher?”

  “Work on your swinging of course.” A wide smile crossed his mouth. He put an arm around Bren and led him through the trees. “Come find us when you are done,” Aeron shouted over his shoulder.

  She looked at him, baffled. So much for being a teacher. It seemed he didn’t want her spending too much time with the General and had kept him occupied for the most part of the day. He still didn’t trust her to keep up their charade. Although, she couldn’t really blame him. After all, it was her fault that she was now betrothed.

  Claire sighed, her shoulders slumping a bit. She stood alone in a small clearing in the trees. Aeron’s loud voice and laughter faded into the distance and the forest became quiet except for the occasional bird cry. She stripped off the deep purple over-shirt, down to the thin sleeveless black one underneath. She folded it up and laid it on the ground out of the way, along with the belt and dagger. Then she stretched to loosen her stiff muscles and joints.

  Alright, that was done. She gripped the handle to the practice blade and held it up with both hands in front of her. Unsure of what to do, she felt a little silly. She glanced around. At least no one was around to see her.

  She lifted the sword above her head and swung it down in front of her with all her might. A rush of satisfaction swept through her. She swung it horizontally, the wooden blade cutting through the air. A feeling of empowerment took over. Who needed Aeron anyway? She could practice without him. She stabbed the blade in front of her and lunged forward. Who did he think he was? Did he really think he could keep her separated from the General the whole journey? She swung the blade again, anger surging through her veins now. Why didn’t he trust her? It wasn’t like she had told him anything that would ruin their little farce. So what if she was now to be married?

  Her breath began to quicken and sweat broke out as she swung the sword furiously. The forest around her became a blur. Each swing gave her a feeling of gratification as she channeled her stress into the physical action and slashed away at her problems. She could get used to practicing with the pretend blade. It was a great way to relieve stress.

  She swung the blade back over her head with both hands, ready to swing it with all her might, but something suddenly caught it. Claire gasped and let go, whirling around, backing away instinctively. Farron gripped the sword, holding it up where he’d stopped it. He looked at her with wide eyes.

  “Don’t do that!” Claire shrieked. Her hand clutched her chest; her heart beat furiously as if it were trying to escape. She’d been so wrapped up in her practice she hadn’t noticed the elf.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said, “but I had no choice but to defend myself. I could have been knocked out cold the way you were swinging this thing around.” He gripped the handle and examined the fake weapon.

  Her pulse began to calm but was replaced by a growing sense of irritation. She was still mad at the elf. Her stubbornness wouldn’t let her forget so easily.

  “Have you come to make fun of me, or did you come to apologize?”

  “Neither.” He swung the sword, paying more attention to it than her.

  What was with him and weapons? Maybe it was a male thing.

  She crossed her arms and waited for an explanation. She was too tired to probe for answers.

  “I have come to propose a truce.” He pointed the blade at her.

  “For what, might I ask?”

  “What I said before. I don’t think I was wrong and I’m not sorry for saying it.” He kept the point aimed at her. “I made a valid argument. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

  Claire’s mouth dropped open, exasperated. That took some nerve. “I am not a child!” She lunged forward and grabbed for her sword, but he pulled it back out of reach at the last moment.

  “No?” A look of amusement spread across his face.

  “I think you’re the one being childish here.”

  Farron laughed. “And I wonder where I learned this technique from?”

  Claire flushed, reminded of her similar tactics from earlier in their journey. She crossed her arms again in a huff. “Fine. If it’s a truce you want.”

  He flipped the sword around and held it out to her handle first. Claire glared at him for a second before snatching it back from him. She fought the urge to beat him and his smug expression with it.

  “I’ll admit that I sometimes rush into things before thinking it through.” She gathered up her shirt and dagger and slipped the belt around her waist. “But you didn’t have to be so mean about it.” She focused the wooden point at him this time. “I may not know much about the world, but I’m not dumb. Just inexperienced.”

  “Look, I didn’t mean--”

  She held up her hand to stop him. “It’s fine. I’m learning, even if the lessons are harsh and unrewarding.” She could feel the fire return inside of her. “So it’s a truce you want, huh?”

  She held her hand out in front of her. He took it and gave a firm shake.

  “Fine. I’ll show you that I’m not a child, just you wait.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  “Well then.” She looked around her to make sure she didn’t leave anything. “I’ve had enough. How about we go rescue Bren from Aeron’s awful storytelling?”

  “Although I don’t really trust him, there is no need to torture the man.”

  Claire laughed, a weight lifted from her shoulders. They trudged through the forest; Claire led the way in the direction Aeron took earlier until she spotted the orange glow of the fire flicker through the trees.

  Aeron and Bren looked up as she walked into the clearing. They sat near each other on an overturned tree. She could see the happy look of relief in Bren’s eyes. He must’ve reached his limit with Aeron’s stories. There’s only so much one can take in a day. His expression faltered a bit when he saw Farron behind her, but then returned again, a glowing brilliant look. It made her heart skip.

  He really was charming. Her stomach fell as she realized how it must have looked to him, to see her emerge from the forest with the elf. She swallowed hard. There was nothing she could do about it now. She sat on the ground in front of the fire with her legs crossed. Farron sat across the fire from her.

  “Miss Claire also has an interest in sword play?” Bren broke the silence.

  She looked up at him, surprised. “Why, of course I do. A girl can’t always wait for a knight in shining armo
r. She’d be dead long before he ever shows up, if at all.”

  Bren laughed. “Indeed, my lady.”

  Aeron exchanged a glance with Farron.

  “How very peculiar.” Bren’s face was alit with amusement. “Tell me, Miss Claire, about your hometown. Are all the women there as bold as you?”

  Her eyes widened and she glanced at Aeron. Had she said something wrong again? Aeron returned her look with one of disdain. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, waiting for her response, daring her to say something.

  “Of course. We Bantonians are very prideful. The women even more so than the men at times.” She glanced back at Aeron with a satisfied look. She’d show him that she can play this little game.

  Bren chuckled. “I see. Your fiancé must be a very strong man.”

  Claire could feel the heat rise to her cheeks and she averted her gaze to the fire. “Some might say that.”

  “You don’t sound too happy about it.”

  Claire sighed heavily. She was too tired for this. All she wanted to do was climb out of the marriage hole she had dug. A thought popped into her head then. “A girl is never happy about an arranged marriage.”

  Aeron buried his face in his hands. She glanced up at Bren and his expression was frozen in surprise. He looked like he was about to say something but stopped. A glorious smile took over a moment later and his shoulders relaxed.

  “I see,” he said, his voice softer. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “No need.” She stuck her chin up. “Just doing my duty as a daughter.”

  Silence fell on the camp. She gazed into the fire, not knowing what else to say.

  “How about some food?” Aeron asked.

  Claire’s stomach growled at the mention of it. She’d barely eaten all day; her stomach still reeled from the night before. Aeron tossed her a roll of bread and some cheese wrapped in a cloth. She had hoped that he’d picked up something different in the marketplace back in Lendon. Maybe it didn’t bother him what he ate. She sighed and took a bite of the bread. So much for exotic cuisine.

  11

  Aeron had seized Bren early in the day; they walked ahead, talking and laughing like old buddies. It seemed he was unhappy with her performance the night before.

  The brush of the forest rubbed up against Claire’s boots. Her fingers worked through her hair as she untangled the braid she had the day before to let her hair hang loose around her shoulders. She believed her performance had been rather good. The General still seemed to believe her. Wasn’t that what mattered?

  The forest looked the same as always: an endless sea of green and brown. Ash and oak and pine all mingled together, all looking the same after a while. Farron walked a few paces to the right of the group. He relinquished his place in the front to the new friendly duo and had a faraway look on his face, no doubt remembering his lost love.

  Claire smiled as she thought of her made up story. It could have been true. It’s not like he had denied it to be. She glanced at the elf. Why did he keep his past so locked up?

  Her eyes narrowed as she looked over at Farron. She wondered how easy it would be to sneak up on a dazed elf. He made it look so easy. It was time for vengeance, and also a way for her to relieve her boredom.

  She slowed her pace and waited for him to get ahead some more. He didn’t seem to notice. She moved briskly to avoid the brush, stepping where the leaves were sparse. Her hand held onto her dagger so it wouldn’t slap against her legs as she moved. She managed to sneak around behind the elf where he walked several paces in front of her. It was a straight shot. Moving quick and light, she held her hands out in front of her as she approached for her final attack, grinning as she anticipated the scare. She couldn’t believe she’d been able to get so close without him noticing.

  Claire held her breath as she lunged forward, but Farron dodged to the left before he quickly wound an arm around her neck, trapping her in a chokehold.

  “It’s really not nice to sneak up on someone,” he whispered in her ear from behind.

  Stunned, Claire reached up and tried to pry his arm away. “Just returning the favor,” she muttered. His grip was strong but loose enough not to hurt.

  Farron laughed and released her suddenly. She stumbled forward but he kept his grip on her arm to catch her before she could fall.

  “How did you know it was me?” She steadied herself and brushed his hand away.

  That cocky look spread across his face. “It wasn’t that hard to guess, my lady. You move with less grace than a man who’s been drinking all night.”

  Claire’s teeth clenched, her fists balled tight. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. That was uncalled for. She’d tried so hard too. He could’ve at least acknowledged her effort.

  “Is this what you meant when you said you’d show me how un-child like you would become?”

  She could see the steam rise in front of her eyes. “Why can’t you just act scared for once?”

  Farron chuckled. “It’s hard to be scared of someone that looks like you.”

  Claire charged at the elf with fists in the air, ready to strike, but he caught her by the wrists to fend off the attack. “I will strike fear in you! Just you wait!” She struggled as she tried to free herself from his grip.

  Farron just laughed.

  “Is everything alright, Miss Claire?”

  Immediately, her struggles stopped and the irritation drained instantly. Her entire body grew hot in embarrassment. Slowly, she turned her head. Bren and Aeron stood a few feet away. Aeron had his arms crossed with a look of obvious disappointment written on his face. Bren looked genuinely worried, his eyes wide in surprise.

  Farron released her wrists. “Just defending myself is all.”

  Claire tried her best to recover. “We just had a little disagreement.”

  “About what?” Aeron asked.

  Farron shrugged and began to walk ahead. “Ask my lady. She’s the one who started it.”

  She glared after the elf, knowing that he wore that cocky grin. Her cheeks flushed all over again as she looked at Bren. He waited patiently for an answer.

  “Just a trivial matter,” she said and gave him a reassuring smile.

  Aeron’s laugh was a little too high. “They do this all the time!” He spun on his heel and grabbed Bren by the shoulder before leading him on through the trees.

  Claire waited for them to walk a few paces ahead to let out the breath she’d been holding. How humiliating. Maybe she wasn’t so good at this acting thing. She trailed a little ways behind the group. Her thoughts drifted to ways she could get the silver-haired elf back, scheming and planning. Most of the ideas were too ridiculous or too difficult to pull off, however. He seemed to always be on guard.

  She sighed and glanced out into the forest. A dark triangular object caught her eye deep in the trees. She stopped in her tracks. What is that? Curious, she started to wander out into the forest. The sounds of Aeron and the General drifted further in the opposite direction. She paused and looked after them. Should she call out to them? No, it would probably only aggravate Aeron even more. He hadn’t wanted to stray from the mission in the first place; and now that the General was with them, he may not want to even more. So, she proceeded through the trees on her own.

  A breeze swept through the trees, rustling branches, and sent leaves falling around her like raindrops. Her only companions were the heavy breath and pulse in her ears. A dreadful feeling crept through her from the pit of her stomach, but curiosity drove her feet forward. She had to know what it was.

  When the object finally came into sight, Claire froze. It was the top of a roof. A tiny square house stood below her at the bottom of a small outcropping.

  A little village stretched out below her with roofs thatched of branches and straw and walls made of mud brick. Normally she would have been ecstatic to find a new town. But something was not right. The village was eerily quiet. There was an overturned cart, its contents spilling out across the street.


  Sweat instantly broke out across her skin. She glanced frantically around the village for any signs of life. A buildings charred remains sat on a corner; another’s windows gaped open, the shutters broken in. Contents of houses littered the streets. She knew what had happened here.

  Quickly, she looked around for a way down the ledge. A tree extended out past the edge, its roots exposed. She gripped the roots, climbed down, and snuck around the back of the small house, hugging along the back wall.

  What had made her want to investigate the village? What did she think she would find here? All of her senses told her to run the other way, but her body wouldn’t listen. She had to know if there was anyone still left, if there was a clue as to where they had gone. But most of all she wanted answers.

  She peered around the front of the small building. Its shutters hung off the hinges and the door was busted in. The street appeared empty. The stiffness in her shoulders eased slightly. It didn’t seem like anybody or anything was left. It was lifeless. A ghost of a town.

  She crossed the street and ducked between two buildings into a narrow alley. Her feet took slow steady steps towards the end, trying her best not to make a sound. Every fiber of her being shouted at her not to go, not to look around the corner. She should have listened, should have turned around and walked the other way.

  The sight that greeted her sent shivers down her spine and made her stomach wrench. Charred corpses lay in a pile in the middle of the street, their faces barely identifiable. She covered her mouth to keep from breathing in the putrid smell. Memories of that night flooded her mind, turning her knees into jelly. She collapsed back against the building as the air escaped her lungs. The sight of those beasts stacking bodies in her town square came rushing back, overwhelming her. Did they do this to these people? Why was this happening?

  Hands gripped her shoulders and began to shake her.

  “Look at me!”

  The voice seemed so far away, drifting in through her memories at the back of her mind. Her mother’s face flashed in her mind, framed by smoke and flame. It was the last sight of her mother before she disappeared back into the town. The voice drifted in again, this time more forceful and clear. The pair of hands moved up to both sides of her face, forcing her chin up, her head tight in their grip.