“Goodnight, Targath,” Kilena kindly wished him, settling the side of her head on a thin pillow of straw. A scoff replied, and Targath turned over to put his back to her from the other side of the cramped floor.
Kilena fondly smiled, knowing Targath was upset by her tenacity and refusal to sleep on the bed. He insisted she claim the bed for herself to have a better rest. She argued that sleeping on the floor was preferable to the ground. In the end, the bed and its mattress of straw on wooden slats remained empty. That heated disagreement left them both sleeping on the floor almost back to back.
The crooked lumber floor was one part of a small building, no larger than a shed for tools, built by the hands of Ezekiel. Once a thief that became addled by a treasure he sought to steal, he had taken to reforming himself with full dedication after the knight spared his life. Although he eventually recalled his every transgression, he followed Kilena’s guidance and sought redemption through living an honest life with his future wife, Agnes. To repay Kilena’s kindness, Ezekiel used his new found carpentry skills to build her a refuge. A place she was always welcomed to rest comfortably away from the life of adventure and heroism.
The only condition to resting another night that she took to heart was that she sleep donned in armor. Targath sought her out days after they parted ways in Blackburn, the home of the thieves guild, and warned her about threats coming toward her. Thieves sent by her own brother to recapture her, and vengeance driven vampires. Dangers that she wished to keep far away from her friends, but she was sad to leave Agnes and Ezekiel so soon.
They were happy together, and in a way Kilena envied their quaint lives. She never blamed Ezekiel for choosing that simplicity over following her around Draconiam in pursuit of adventure, or chasing an overwhelming quest to unite the land against evil that would soon afflict them.
But how she envied their companionship.
Perhaps, just maybe, someone she could spend her life with was still waiting for her. Someone she trusted, who could be her best friend, and willing to share the experiences of life with her.
Kilena’s final thought carried with her into sleep, to dream of future tranquility.
A cabin house beside a pond, filled by a small waterfall and emptied through a stream that led out of the forest. Surrounded by vibrant flowers and flourishing foliage. The laughter of children filled her ears, and she saw a toddler-aged boy running toward her with a giggle in his grin. Kilena wrapped her arms around him, raising him up into her arms for a hug. Who was this child? Who were his parents? The answer came as a sensation like a ripple on the water’s surface, a drop to fill the void. She was his mother. Another giggle caught her ear, and she found a girl, younger than the boy, rushing head long toward someone beside her. She watched this brown-haired girl leap into a pair of strong arms covered in ashen skin. He and the girl pressed their foreheads together with matching smiles, and then a pair of golden eyes fixed to her gaze. Why was Targath being so affectionate with her young daughter? Of course. He must be the children’s father. Together, they were their parents, as well as husband and wife. A breeze danced across her soft skin, rustling the loose fabric around her body. Armor had been traded for a soft dress. Targath spoke to her, praising her for bearing such beautiful children and raising them to be so loving. He suggested working toward another one night soon, and sealed the promise with a charming wink that filled her stomach with a thousand soft, fluttering wings. Doubt filled her mind as she looked off into the distance through the trees. Targath hated her, did he not? She was married only to her oath of helping those in need. The edges of her reality frayed, unraveling one thread at a time.
Thud! Crash!
Sleep might have lasted for five minutes or five hours. Next Kilena knew, her round eyes snapped open wide. Targath’s hand clutched her shoulder and aggressively shook. “Grab your gear. We need to leave. Now,” he urgently ordered.
Her heart raced as rapidly as she breathed, limbs moving on instinct to shove herself upright. Kilena recognized a familiar hiss as she reached for her buckler leaning against the wall beside her. With it firmly in her grip, she used it for support to swiftly stand.
A pale, slender blonde woman outside the perimeter of the shack pushed herself up from the ground by her frail arms. Lumber fell away and cluttered to the floor as she stood. Cracked lips thinned into a snarl, exposing two tapered fangs. Her icy, predatory eyes lock on Kilena. “Tonight, I avenge my beloved master.”
“Lucy,” Kilena exclaimed, gripping her short sword by the decorated scabbard. “Then where is-? There is another. Sebastion.”
Targath shouted. A pair of arms suddenly clasped around his shoulders hauled him toward the back of the room. He buried the point of his elbow into Sebastion’s gut, and sent him briefly reeling. Kilena had only finished gathering her prepped pack when Targath snatched her right elbow and yanked her into a run. He growled a reminder. “You can’t stand and fight them without the amulet. Do you have any weapons made from a dragon part to defend yourself with?”
“I do not, but we can go to Utiss,” Kilena offered, throwing open the back door into Ezekiel’s house. “Dragon claws are effective on vampires.”
Targath rushed into the house and straight toward the front door, his grasp on her elbow ushering her along. He glanced back at her with a scowl and scolded, “Why haven’t you already made a weapon out of one?”
“I- I never thought-.”
“Kilena,” Ezekiel shouted, a flickering lamp secured in his right hand. “What’s happening?”
Kilena stole a moment of respite when Targath paused at the front door. His hand gripped the handle, while she looked back at Ezekiel. The dancing flame highlighted the contours of his worried expression. He wore a pair of trousers with a cotton shirt left untucked. “Vampires,” she explained, voice wavering from her speeding pulse. “I have to go, Ezekiel. Thank you for your hospitality,” Kilena hurriedly called over her shoulder, and waved with her free arm gripping the buckler. Targath never slowed down. With the front door open, he yanked Kilena into a run as she shouted the rest of her hasty farewell. “Get to safety. Take care of yourself, and Agnes!”
Ezekiel and the interior of the house vanished from view. The last glimpse Kilena caught was of Lucy standing at the back door, hands gripping the frame and grinning with murderous intent.
Kilena Shrelack 