Scars and Burns (No Light Without the Dark #1)

27. Dinalia

27

Dinalia

I hide in the darkness of the Shadowlands. A town on the edge of their border. I’ve been coming to the bordering towns for the past four years now. Escaping from the castle of Azaria. Waiting for the only thing that brings me release, killing .

I didn’t set out for this to be my path. But after the raid that took my Mother I was restless. Confused and unable to face the turmoil that raged on inside of me. I am all but dead to the world.

Each day bleeding into the other.

I wake, train Saphrina in her magic, greet whichever guests of the King’s are there that day, practice my fighting abilities to let out some more aggression, head into the forest, and spend my nights alone.

As I wait for my chance to kill, my mind flashes back to when it all began.

One night I didn’t feel like returning to the castle. I just kept wandering the woods with Lena.

Lena is the lynx I found all those years ago hurt in the forest. She outgrew the castle rather quickly. Shortly after bringing her into the castle and providing her with a steady flow of food she grew well out of my control. I was not able to hide her any longer. I sneaked her back into the forest. She didn’t want to leave me nor I her but I knew she would be happier here. I didn’t realize it at the time but she is a behemoth lynx. Perhaps, the largest creature I’ve ever seen. Large enough for me to ride on her now, though I never do. She’s usually off on her own just as I am. But we still see each other, somehow always meeting on the cliff side where I found her.

We walked so far that night we arrived at the borders of the Shadowlands. Smarter than I was, she left. I ventured into the town. Lurking about in the shadows watching the way they lived.

It was nicer than I imagined. They didn’t live in shacks like I used to. But everyone lives in a stone built home. Light and warmth from a fire seeping out of the windows of every house. They seem happy almost.

I was on my way to leave when I heard screaming.

Maybe not as happy as I thought.

I followed the sound. To find a woman pinned down with a man on top of her. He’s going to rape her.

Seeing flashes of my Mother’s face. Taking me back to the night our village was raided. Seeing the fear and tears in her eyes. I see them now in the face of this woman.

So, the Shadowland men are monsters to everyone, not just the other realms.

She’s fighting back with all her might. Kicking and clawing at him. Vile words are emanating from her mouth that I can’t make out.

It goes quiet. He must have gagged her or covered her mouth to draw less attention.

I hear him tear her clothes. A small muffled whimper escapes her mouth. His breathing is heavy. He begins to moan deeply as he forces himself into her.

This woman’s life means nothing to me. For all I know she was a part of the raid on the castle. But that does not mean she deserves this fate.

Slowly, I unsheathe my blades and make my way over to them. Stealthy, careful not to make a sound. I stand behind him. Fool, doesn’t even sense my presence. Probably too drunk off his ass.

The woman opens her eyes. She’s been struggling this whole time. Though it hasn’t made a difference. Her movements cease. Eyes peering past him and straight to me.

Arrogance of a man, he smirks, “Beginning to like it? I knew you would. They all eventually come around.”

Sickening. How many women has he done this too?

“She’s not beginning to like it. You filth.”, I snarl at him.

He freezes. Gets up and turns to me. He’s sluggish and slow. Nearly falling over as he tries to stand. “Who the fuck are you?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Good, that means you’re a nobody. Once I’m finished with her I’ll have my fun with you.”

“You’re right about one thing. I am a nobody but your fun will end here and now.”

He gives me a slurred laugh, “You sassy little bitch. I’ll enjoy punishing your mouth for your insolence.” He lunges at me, right into my blades.

Blood sputters out of his mouth. Eyes boggled wide. I plunge them further into his gut. Pushing him to the ground as his knees slowly descend. With one final thrust, I twist my blades ensuring his final moments are filled with utter pain.

I withdraw my blades and clean them off on his clothes. Sheathing them once more behind my back. I glance over to the women who was just raped.

She’s staring up at me. Shock and confusion on her face. My face is blank. I offer her my hand. She takes it. Her own is shaking. Pulling her to her feet, I ask, “Are you alright?”

“Ye - yes, thank to you. Who are you? Why did you help me?”

“Would you rather I let him continue?”

“No, of course not. I’m just confused. You could have easily been his next victim.”

“Unlikely, he was drunk, caught off guard, and lunged into my blades on his own accord. Not even noticing them as he was insulting me.”

“My name is Estelle. Are you from around here?” She says, stroking her belly.

It’s almost a relief to meet someone who doesn’t know who I am. It’s too dark outside for her to see my features clearly. My raven hair and copper skin blending into the Shadowlings but my eyes would have given me away.

Sighing, “No, I am not from around here. I was just passing by and… I don’t know, felt a sense of responsibility. No one should be taken advantage of in such a manner. All deserve to be treated with care and respect. Regardless of status. Something we are all born with but at no fault of our own.”

I’m not really sure why I am saying this to her. I most likely will never see her again so there is no harm done.

“Have you met our young Prince?”

“Can’t say that I have.” I’ve heard rumors. He was first brought to my attention by King Elio when we had fled to Akino. The prince was only nine at the time and was already killing. Already mastering his magic. I’ve heard now he’s grown into the most ruthless Fae in the world. Defeating his Father and every other opponent he comes across. Enhancing his magic. Developing black flames. Torturing men with his shadows in the most gruesome way. Beating and slaughtering people. The amount of blood he has shed can fill rivers that flow throughout all the lands. Everyone avoids him. In fear of angering him. Not wanting to unleash his wrath.

“He shares your views.” The woman replies.

Not what I was expecting her to say. That completely contradicts his reputation. “Is that so?”

“Yes, you should meet him. He would be glad to have someone of your skills on his side.”

Side? What side?

His realm perhaps.

I cleared my throat, “Thanks for the offer but I must return home. ”

Almost sensing my displacement in the world, she says, “Well if you ever want a place where everyone is welcome regardless of status. Just ask anyone for the billet of dwellers. They will show you the way.”

Billet of dwellers?

What does that mean? What is going on here in the Shadowlands?

The women and I part ways.

Not really giving our interaction much of a thought afterwards.

I’ve been returning to the bordering villages ever so often. Varying the towns I visit. Never following a pattern so no one comes after me or knows where my next hit will be. I find someone to kill every single time. Some are rapists. Some are cheats. Others are murders themselves.

But all end up dead.

It’s the only thing that brings me release anymore. That eases some of the tension growing inside of me.

But it does nothing to dull the numbness I feel. My body and mind are as cold as ever. No warmth reaches my skin. No feeling touches my soul.

Once, a man got the upper hand. Slicing his sword across my torso. Enough to cut through my leathers and break skin. I welcomed the pain. It urged me on. Drove me to finish the job.

That’s when it started. The sting of the wound brought me something other than utter nothingness. Separating my body and mind. For my body can still feel pain but my mind has gone docile.

For what is the value of a few afflictions upon my skin when all of my features are to be ashamed of in the eyes of others. My copper coloring, raven hair, and obscure color of my eyes stand out like a black rose in a garden surrounded by sunflowers.

My body is marred with scars now. Some from battles. Others from myself. All bringing me brief moments of feeling. Only to fade into nothingness once more .

No one even knows. No one sees. Covered in thick clothes. Constantly wearing long sleeves and pants. The only ones to see my bare skin are those I indulge in. Those in the Shadowlands where I have a chance of blending in. Always taken in the dark. Too drunk to notice the imperfections.

The indulgences are enough to ignite my senses but not enough to satisfy me. Always having to return to my chambers and finish the job myself.

Only to become just as desolate as before.

A rarity in itself but this night will be no different. I will find someone to kill. Bring myself some relief as I provide their soul with its own release. Then I will might find a random drunken stupor to indulge in.

Finally, I see my mark. A man stalking a young female Fae. She’s pretty, innocent, and vulnerable. A perfect target for him.

Before he has a chance to make himself known to her and she suffers at his hands. I make my move.

Slicing his leg. Immobilizing him. Enjoying the hiss of pain and anger he makes at the attack. I stand directly in front of him. He begins to draw his blade but I cut off his hand before he can swing it.

“Ah! You bitch! How dare you! Do you know who I am?” He spits out through gritted teeth.

I don’t, nor do I care. But that doesn’t matter. He could be a Lord, Duke, or the King himself and it wouldn’t make a difference to me.

Smirking, “Yes, you’re a disgraceful, pathetic excuse of a man. Who was just about to assault a young woman.”

“And how could you possibly know that? I haven’t even done anything. I was minding my own business. We could have just been heading in the same direction.” His voice is shaky. Barely able to get the words out. Probably because his wrist is throbbing at where I just severed his hand .

Fool. He thinks he is clever. Thinking he is going to out maneuver me. But I saw the look in his eyes. They all have it. The look of lust, longing, and abuse.

“Don’t try to deny it. I’ve seen your kind before. You all look the same. And I relish in killing every single one of you.”

His eyes gawk open. “So it’s you. You’re the one murdering along the border villages. We thought they were random but you are targeting us.” His wrist is squirting out blood now. His pulse rising. Quick streams of blood shooting out of his veins with every heartbeat.

I peer down at him. A scowl plastered across my face. The rumors have stirred for the past few years. Rumors of a mad woman rampaging in the Shadowlands. Killing innocent men. No motive, just killing. But these men are far from innocent.

I click my dual blades into place at the handles. Creating my double edged sword. It’s easier to stab them through the heart that way.

“Yes, I’ve targeted you. And just like you, I kill without mercy.” Thankfully he is already on his knees. They all end that way after I’ve made a few quick jabs. He’s looking up at me. Anger and venom in his eyes. I stare directly into his eyes as I bring my blade down, straight into his heart. This thrust spears through his body. The tip of my blade angled out the back of his torso. My mouth twitches slightly from the exertion. But my eyes never leave his. I watch as his eyes widen in shock. Holding my breath until I see the light completely fade from his soul. Only letting it out once I retract my blade and I hear his body slump to the ground.

Barely any sort of release.

* * *

I’ve just exited the bathroom. By the time I had made my way back to the castle I was exhausted. Ready for a shower to wash away the dirt and blood that is caked on me.

I stare at myself in the mirror. Looking down at my Goddess mark in the middle of my sternum. Still black and vibrant.

Still complete.

It’s hidden well. Always opting for a high collared covering. The only ones to ever know about it are my Mother and Aemond, the random Shadowling that I saw a few times in the forest years ago.

There has been a change in my magic since unveiling itself. A powerful shift. It burns inside of me. I can feel it wanting to be set free.

I get some relief when I spar with Saphrina. Still providing her with magic lessons over the years.

Her mark has changed little. It is still on her wrist, vibrant and solid. Grown since she first received it. What was once a single crescent moon. Now sit alongside a half circle. Meant to represent the full moon of our Goddess but it has yet to create a 360 rotation.

She has progressed nicely with her magic abilities. Her white moonlight energy blasting objects and bringing them closer to her. She has yet to create physical objects with her magic though. She does not create ropes of energy that can be manipulated into grabbing or restricting things. Only waves emanating out of her. I worry it will not develop any further. Little has progressed in the last year.

I take this moment to reflect on my features a little bit more. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve attempted to change my appearance the way my Mother once did with her magic. More days than I care to admit I have wished and longed so desperately to alter myself. To be able to blend in and not have to disappear into the shadows. To catch one’s eye for my pleasing, delicate, and soft features rather than my jarring harsh coloring. To be like everyone else .

Alas, I have had no such power. It was hard for a long while after moving to the Middle Kingdom, even harder after my Mother died. But over these last four years I’ve grown in confidence. My magic is most unique and its versatility is unlike any I’ve heard or read about in our history. Although, eyes still linger and whispers still surround me, my power is undeniable. I do not shy away and take back stairwells to avoid interactions, unless I wish to do so. I walk the halls with my head held high. The potency of my presence in a room is stammering. Though no one else will ever see or believe it but I am just as my Mother once said. I am a rare star whose light cannot be matched, and I shall never dwindle again.

I’m sitting on my balcony, sipping my contraceptive tea that I consume after all of my sexual exploits to avoid unwanted pregnancies. I am already a bastard, unwanted in more ways than one, and I’ll be damned if I bring another displaced child into the world. It’s not that children have not crossed my mind but I am still only two and twenty. I have yet to even find someone willing to spend the rest of our lives together, but I also do not know if I am worthy enough to be a mother. My own seemed so remarkable and I am not sure I inherited any of those traits. My Mother had light, kindness, and grace to spare when raising a child. Her soul was pure and empathetic when mine has proven to be anything but.

I stare out to the forest, almost wishing I hadn’t come back, when I hear a knock at the door.

Still odd. No one ever comes to see me other than Saphrina and she wouldn’t come this hour.

I get up and walk over to the door. Finding a page waiting for me.

“Yes?”

“The King has requested your presence in his study.”

Great.