Vel’s toe rolled on the ground, and just as a sharpness touched her stomach, she fell. Slipping into the shadow realm, she gasped, hand holding the sliver the knight’s sword caused on her stomach. The sword clanked on the glass in front of Vel. Huh, she’d done something similar with the horse’s lead.

  “Holy retribution!” she hissed, eyes immediately welling up. Despite her best attempts to prevent them, the tears spilled from her eyes, and with them, she took several gasps, her breathing uneven. She almost died. Again.

  “Curse you!” she yelled out. “Curse you gods! Curse you, Retribution! Curse Oathmaker, Vigor, and Kinkindler! How could you do this to me!”

  She looked up, looking up at the nothing; looking up at the gods. They were as she saw them now. Nothing. Once they were everything to her, even the very beings that gave her value, and she’d foolishly prayed to these malevolent beings! All they wanted to do was kill her.

  “You said that it was for the greater good,” she said, still staring at the nothing. “Said it would bring prosperity and posterity to all the land.”

  Then she laughed. “How foolish was I!” she yelled between her melancholic chuckles. “How foolish,” she echoed, shaking her head. She looked back down at the sword before her. The only prosperity her death would have brought was that all the resources used on her now would have been saved. Then again, she’d killed so many monsters━deadly ones.

  They said the Pantheon of Retribution created us and the earth, she thought, narrowing her eyes. Why would they create monsters? Why create a cycle of sacrifices to feed blood to the land?

  “Lies, all of it,” she thought, then pulled up her quest, the one she’d seen when everything changed.

  [Quest: Reforge Godbreaker]

  She had no idea what it meant, and really, she needed the time to figure it out. However, if Godbreaker could kill gods, then she wasn’t going to let such a weapon go to waste. No, after all that they’d done to her . . .

  Vel hissed, her head aching as much as her heart now. She pushed herself up to her feet, and slowly picked up the sword. It was heavy in her hand, but her grip upon it was tight. Slowly, with both hands, she raised it, looking across the blade.

  A vague image of herself was reflected off of it. “I don’t want to take the lives of these men,” she said, thinking about the wielder of this blade. Part of her couldn’t help but think that they just didn’t know the full truth. She found that hypocritical━she didn’t know the full truth.

  But if they’re trying to kill me, is there a choice? she thought. A part of her said there was, and that she could spare their lives, but then another part said that they’d stop at nothing until she was dead. Still, she didn’t want to take the life of a man.

  Pushing those thoughts away, Vel looked through the glass. The knights, all four of them, were still there, quietly discussing things. Fortunately, none of them had any light. Unfortunately, Vel wouldn’t be making it very far through this realm. Standing still wasn’t nearly as bad as sneaking around, but she could still feel it weighing on her mind, and notably, she’d been ignoring level notifications, the last one being:

  [Shadow Sneak level 13]

  Apparently, she assumed, the levels of this skill were based on both time and movement. That meant she also had a limited amount of time. She narrowed her eyes, watching one of the knights━the youngest one━depart from the others, running. Probably to go tell someone that she was in the city.

  Both the city and woods weren’t safe anymore. And where was Sigurd? Looking further down the glass and towards the light, Vel assumed that if he was waiting, he’d be near the gates. Then again, with all these church soldiers running around, she imagined that he wouldn’t stay there for long. No, he had to be . . .

  Vel saw movement away from the knights and in the alley she was in before. Sigurd was peeking around the corner, dagger in hand. Taking her first steps towards him, Vel closed her eyes, if only to help with the disorientation. Still, the ache in her head persisted, as did the notifications.

  [Shadow Sneak level 14]

  [Shadow Sneak level 15]

  Opening her eyes again, she found herself just two paces away from Sigurd, and four paces from where she wanted to be━the other side of him. As she placed one foot in front of the other, moving with more haste, she brought a hand up to hold her head. The other held to the sword, dragging its tip slightly with a light, grating sound across the glass.

  [Shadow Sneak level 16]

  Finally on the other side of the hunter, Vel allowed herself to drop from the Shadow Realm, landing on her knees with a soft thud. Sigurd whipped around to her, the alarm apparent on his face and dagger poised for an attack. He froze when he saw her. His mouth opened, but no words came out of it. Seemed he had better thoughts about making sounds. Instead, he sheathed his dagger, then leaned over.

  One of his hands reached for the sword, and the other grabbed Vel’s wrist to lift her up to her feet. Shaking her head, Vel maintained her tight hold on the hilt of the sword. She needed a weapon, and now she had the skill to use it, just . . . not the knowledge.

  Sigurd conceded to her quickly in that matter, utilizing their precious time to drag her down the alley. He even moved a hand up to firmly clutch her upper arm instead. That sort of irked Vel, mostly because she knew that he knew she was walking like an absolute clutz between an achy mind and dizzy eyes.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  When they reached the end of the alley, Sigurd looked forward, but Vel turned her head to look backwards, fearful that there could be a soldier at the other end. Again. There wasn’t. She allowed Sigurd to pull her into the light of the wide street beyond, lit lanterns stinging at her eyes like she’d been consumed only by darkness before.

  Darkness . . . she thought, considering her class. [Dark Avenger]. It had been alarming, the class title, but now she found a solace in it. The dark was her ally, and it seemed that Sigurd felt the same, pulling her into another unlit alley, moving her deeper and deeper into the city.

  “We need a place to lie low,” he whispered, looking back at Vel. “Let them think you escaped the city.”

  Vel nodded. “Where?”

  “I don’t know,” Sigurd said, stopping them at a corner. He peeked around it, slow and cautious, then rounded it. “I camp more than use inns, and likelihood is that those will be watched.”

  “What won’t be watched?”

  Sigurd snorted, the slightest upturn pulling on the corner of his lips. “Fair point,” he said. He pulled her through another wide street, then froze and yanked her back into the alley, tucking her behind him. A second later, a small squadron of knights passed by, oblivious to them in the alley. Once they were out of earshot, Sigurd held up a finger.

  “The river runs through town here,” he said, “that could be our━”

  The hunter’s head snapped towards Vel, who jumped from the cross expression on his face. He looked past her, and scowled, Vel whipping around to see what it was. By the time she realized the priestess creeping up on them, Sigurd had marched past her.

  His fingers turned into a fist, and he reeled his arm back. Vel’s jaw gradually dropped, wide eyes staring at Amalia as the woman was knocked completely to the ground by Sigurd’s punch. As he pulled his arm back again, marching to pummel Amalia, Vel leaped towards him, grabbing his arm.

  “Stop!” she said, voice urgent, but hardly above a whisper. “This woman saved me,” she said, the words spilling out as fast as Vel could say them.

  “What?” Sigurd asked, turning his head to look back at Vel.

  Amalia coughed, rubbing her cheek. “I can take you to a place to stay,” she said. While her voice was small, the sour expression on her face was not. “It’s safe.”

  “Oh, and would that place happen to be the temple?” Sigurd hissed.

  “Sigurd!” Vel pulled his arm, forcing him to turn back to her. “Amalia’s the priestess that helped me out of the temple before I could be sacrificed,” she explained.

  The scowl on the hunter’s expression slowly, and very reluctantly, melted away. He looked at Amalia as the blonde pushed herself up to her feet and wiped dirt from her white robes. “It’s an ordinary house, abandoned, if that puts you at ease,” she said, voice terse. “Now, if you’ll follow me?”

  Sigurd stepped toward Amalia, threatening, “One wrong move, and I swear, I’ll put an arrow in your eye.”

  “Ugh,” Amalia rolled her eyes, then shook her head and turned. She motioned for them to follow.

  Vel moved to pass Sigurd, frowning deeply when he shot an arm out in front of her to prevent her from passing him. Instead, he placed himself between her and Amalia. Seriously? Vel thought, but allowed the hunter to be an unnecessary shield between her and the priestess.

  Amalia led the way, moving them left through another narrow alley and between two large wooden buildings. She took them out into a wide street, and Vel tensed as they walked down it, the street mostly empty, save for the few folks that loitered out of what looked to be some sort of dining establishment. That meant that if any knight passed by Vel was more than likely to be spotted.

  I’ll need to make another shawl, she thought. What would be better was if she could dye one, given that the white was about as loud as her hair was. If they had time while they hid, she’d make that a priority.

  They turned down another street, Vel freezing for just a split second as she saw knights turn off the avenue at the other end. She relaxed, knowing that they couldn’t have seen her, but she had grabbed Sigurd’s arm in the moment, and didn’t quite feel like letting go.

  He looked back at her, and while his expression was still hard, there was a measure of concern in his hazel eyes. When there was nothing but Vel and her exhausted face to see, he looked forward. Good. She’d had enough of people looking at her pale face and frazzled hair.

  Amalia stepped towards an old building on the street. It was smaller than the rest of the homes here, looking to only have two rooms. The priestess, with a grunt, pulled on the door. When she struggled too much, Sigurd, hesitant, stepped up, and shooed her aside. He effortlessly ripped the door open, which creaked with a grating sound that had Vel wincing.

  Every floorboard sounded no better as they crossed into the house, Sigurd being absolutely sure that no one was in it before even allowing Vel in. Once she and Amalia had entered, Sigurd closed the door behind them, then peeked out the building’s only window, which sat beside the door.

  “Do you own this place?” Sigurd asked, turning to Amalia.

  “No,” she said, “but I knew the couple that did. They’ve since packed up and left for the sea.”

  “Strangely convenient,” the hunter said, sounding accusatory.

  “Their children served my family for many years,” Amalia said, sighing. “Velmira,” she said, stepping towards the doorway to the next room. There was no door there, but looked as if there once was. “You can sleep in here for tonight. Keep you away from the window.”

  Vel nodded, stepping towards the dark room.

  “I still don’t trust her,” Sigurd said, and Vel turned, looking at the hunter.

  “I do,” Vel replied, sighing.

  That seemed to be the end of that conversation, Sigurd turning back to peer out the window again. Vel entered the dark room. There was an old bed frame in it, hay still covering it from the prior residents. Though she didn’t have much of a sense of what rich or poor people used for beds, Vel got the sense that these particular folks had been poor. Even she, in her humble room back in the temple, had a proper cot.

  “There might be bugs in the hay. You should avoid it,” Amalia said.

  Vel nodded, then sat on the floor. Even shifting her weight caused it to creak.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve no blankets,” Amalia sighed. “My rush to find you was hurried.”

  “Won’t they find out, eventually, that you helped me?” Vel asked. “This has to look suspicious.”

  “I did get a pretty bad scolding for not allowing a knight to kill you,” Amalia said, sighing. “But they think me devout for it instead. That said, I do think High Priestess Oma has been suspicious of me.”

  “Oma . . .” Vel said, sighing the name out. She pushed her feelings away about the woman, already having addressed them once before and knowing they’d weigh down on her like her anger towards the gods did.

  “Here.” A blanket landed beside Vel, and she turned to Sigurd in the doorway. “You look like death.”

  “Aren’t you just a joy to be around?” Amalia grumbled.

  “Please, don’t fight right now. I’m too tired to mediate you two again,” Vel huffed. She grabbed the blanket, and looked up at the hunter. “Thank you, Sigurd, and thank you both for taking care of me.”

  Sigurd nodded, and the two of them exchanged looks. Vel just hoped they’d suffer each other for the night. She laid the blanket out, and curled part of it over her form while placing an arm under her head. The hardwood was harder than the dirt she’d been sleeping on, but at least it wasn’t as cold.

  Closing her eyes, she relinquished herself to the sleep that was quick to greet her.