Hellion's Reckoning

It proved surprisingly easy to slip past the city undetected. Ashryn and Ruvyn donned shadowy cloaks that concealed their forms as whispers in the night. They kept their plan secret, knowing everyone would object. To hide her from prying eyes and compel Ashryn to obey, the magistrate moved Lady Redwood’s captivity three miles beyond the city’s edge. Despite her revealed deceptions, Lady Redwood had commanded the respect and admiration of the high court for half a century as a venerable elder. They could not wash away her legacy of wisdom and strength so easily.

Ashryn couldn’t help but imagine the chaos that had unfolded in the capital once the Redwoods were discovered. Centuries ago, the priests had declared their clan cleansed. Her grandmother had given a generous donation to the temple to ensure that declaration. Neither she nor kinsmen had shown any demonic traits. Her distinctive multicolored hair had always been a source of adoration in the court, so no one questioned it. Even the king once claimed her presence lit up the throne room with a genuine smile.

The fortress where her grandmother was imprisoned stood alone, like a sentinel of stone and wood amidst the forest. Surrounded by towering wooden walls, weathered by years of neglect and harsh elements, the fortress exuded an aura of confinement and foreboding. The fort itself was a stark contrast to the opulent palaces and grandiose estates of the city. All the windows were small and barred, offering only glimpses within.

Ruvyn and his scouts assumed it was a half abandoned or soon to be abandoned fort on their southern front. It wasn’t until Ashryn had told him of her grandmother, how Ailog had moved her out of the city, that he even remembered.

As they slipped through the dark forest, the moonlight casting eerie shadows on their cloaked figures; they kept their eyes keenly trained on the fortress ahead. The rustling of leaves beneath their careful footsteps masked their approach, blending with the distant howls of the night creatures. Amidst the dense foliage, they caught glimpses of the fortress walls looming in the distance, the flickering torchlights of the guards casting long, menacing shadows. The sentries paced back and forth, their bright red armor clanking softly, gazes sharp and vigilant.

Only four to guard such a highly esteemed member of the court. It all seemed too easy. “It’s a trap,” Ashryn whispered, her breach tickling Ruvyn’s ivory cheek. “And? We can take them,” Ruvyn grinned, eyeing his first target. The look in his eyes reminded her of Inias before the redcap ambush. His amber gaze reflected the confidence and excitement she’d grown to miss in the prince. They wouldn’t lose. Fate had given the Hellions a second chance.

As they crept closer to the fortress walls, the shadows seemed to dance around them. They moved with the silent grace of a predator, splitting apart as they drew their weapons. Their eyes met in the darkness, then in a burst of speed, the two rushed out from the shadows. Once they passed the treeline something gripped at their wrists, forcing them to the ground. Their weapons fell to the ground as chains dragged them from up within a tree, pulling them up.

With her hands bound above her, she couldn’t summon any flames as the iron sucked her magic dry. Ashryn’s heart pounded in her chest as the iron chains bit into her skin, rendering her powerless against the unseen force that held her captive. The tree limbs creaked and groaned as they hoisted them into the air, with their toes barely grazing the roots below them.

She looked at Ruvyn on the tree beside her. He struggled weakly against his chains and groaned. From the gate, the four men began chuckling as they approached with weapons drawn. “She really fell for it,” One of them laughed, the other three joining him. Another man snickered, saying, “Captain, hellions can’t help it. They’ve got little brains.”

“Aye! True enough, Garrik. We can’t hold it against her.” They were all old and weathered, breath wreaking of stale whiskey.

An icy chill swept over Ashryn as she dangled helplessly from the tree, her eyes narrowing at the guards approaching. “How old are these chains?” Ruvyn spoke up, rattling them to catch the guards’ attention. “Not even spellbound, just iron,” He went on rattling them a little harder. “You know, in the borderlands we’re injected with iron from birth. Torturous process, but without it, I couldn’t do this.” With one more shake of his bounds, the chains tore free as if they were nothing but brittle glass.

Ruvyn landed gracefully on his feet with a confident smirk. The guards’ laughter faltered as they stared in disbelief at the sudden turn. Ashryn watched in awe as her companion effortlessly freed himself. His hatchets laying on the ground flew into his hands. The guards shook as he twirled the weapons in his hands. One of them backed away and Ashryn hooked her legs around his neck and twisted, snapping it. He threw one hatchet at the chains, and they shattered.

Flames spiraled around her, causing one guard to shriek. Ruvyn stepped back to retrieve his weapon and watched. The flames left her and surrounded the guards, who cried out, begged for mercy. A cyclone of flames closed in around them, leaving nothing but a pile of ash. Ruvyn whistled and ran after her as she rushed towards the gate.

Ashryn’s flames swirled again and lashed like a whip at the rotted wood of the walls blasting through its minimal warding. He could barely keep up with her, and as he slipped through the wall, he heard her shriek from within the tiny structure. Purple smoke poured out and as he approached Ashryn, she had a scarf over her mouth.

Ruvyn held his breath and tore a piece of his shirt, bringing it to his mouth. In the silence, he heard a strange giggling sound. Following Ashryn’s gaze through the fog, he glimpsed white hair and a wide, cackling grin. They had drugged her. He ducked down and scooped her up, rushing outside to lay her on the grass. Ashryn held her mouth as she began sobbing.

There was nothing of the wise, gentle woman she once knew. She reached out from the ground, unable to stand as her giggling persisted. “More,” Endolyne tugged at her granddaughter’s pants, “Please Ashryn dear, let me have just a little more.” Tears welled up in the old woman’s ears as she tugged harder.

It had never been a trap. Ailog wanted her to see this. To see her grandmother reduced to such a pathetic state. All that hope melted away. Ruvyn knelt beside Endolyne and looked up at Ashryn, shaking his head. They couldn’t bring her back, not in this state. She lost herself. The smoke forever stole away the woman she was.

“I’m sorry,” Ruvyn reached out for one of his hatchets, but Ashryn stepped on it. “No!” she cried, flames flickering at her fingertips. Flames began spreading around them and Ruvyn slowly stepped away. “We can’t let her live like this,” he said, raising his hands as he stepped away from the growing fire. She stood in the center of the flames, her eyes burning into his.

Endolyne screamed for more, slamming her fist into Ashryn’s calf. The flames simmered as she watched her grandmother. The woman continued slamming her weak fist against her leg. “After all I’ve done for you!” She shouted and tried snapping her teeth.

“I’m so sorry, Ashryn,” Ruvyn said as he pressed his foot against the woman’s shoulder, keeping her pressed to the ground. Ashryn watched as her grandmother thrashed and tugged at his ankle. “You’ve stolen her, haven’t you?” Endolyne snarled at him, trying to bite his leg. “She deserves better than this,” Ruvyn said, looking at her grandmother’s snarling face.

Ashryn wiped her tears and nodded slowly. “I know…” she said, allowing Ruvyn to take the axe. He knelt on Endolyne’s shoulder and pressed his hand against her forehead to keep her still. “I swear to you, he’ll suffer for this,” he whispered to them as Ashryn looked away. With one swift chop, he brought the axe down, bringing an end to the old woman’s screaming.