The Last Sin

I slipped out of my bedroll and got dressed on my knees, turning away to my side of the tent so Isla could do the same.

I grabbed my cane and stuck two fingers between the tent flaps to look outside. Through the tent’s narrow sliver, I could make out the middle of the camp. The campfire was still lit under the stew pot, but Dugan and Thor were nowhere to be seen.

I froze, holding my breath as three figures stalked about out of the darkness. They were naked down to their waists, with thick, dark fur that covered their bodies and faces. The tattered, bloody remains of clothes wrapped around their waists, stolen from their last victims.

Beastkin, the native inhabitants of the Abyssal lands and the first victims of the Old Elvish Empire. I did not expect to see them roving this close to the capital and so far from their reserve.

I pulled away as they came into the light of the campfire, avoiding their searching feline eyes. Beastkin looked like humans with catlike features, although it was more accurate to say humans looked like beastkin, as much as they hated to admit it.

Isla pulled up beside me.

“Who is it?”

“Three beastkin: Two males and one female.”

Isla chewed her bottom lip and nodded.

I exhaled, calming my nerves and poked my fingers through the opening to take another look.

The lead beastkin male walked to the campfire, sniffing the air as the other two followed. Of course, Dugan's fine cooking drew them to our camp. I smiled to myself, examining the wooden spears in their hands. This was going to be easy.

I turned back to Isla and recoiled at the ball of water hovering above her hand. It was the size of my head.

She nodded again, this time with more confidence.

“Whenever you're ready.”

I turned back to the beastkin huddled around the pot and had an idea.

I raised my right hand, focusing on the campfire. Landbound magic was different than I expected. There were no magic words or funny hand gestures. It was like using a third arm you didn’t know you had; it was awkward at first, but natural. As I focused on the campfire, my hands burned—phantom pain from the night before when I was drawn into Cynthia’s memory. I grit my teeth through the pain, adding heat to the campfire. The stew pot bubbled, drawing the attention of the beastkin who looked over it—exactly what I was waiting for.

I remembered the night before, recalling that feeling of forgetting myself. It had been true freedom, if only for a few hours.

The campfire exploded in a pillar of flame as I unleashed all my will. The stew pot launched into the air. They screamed as the hot metal bowl collided with their faces, the steaming contents scalding their fur.

“Now!” I said, bursting through the tent flaps.

Isla made her move, crystalizing the ball of water into ice and launching at the lead beastkin's head. There was a dull thud as the projectile knocked him unconscious, followed by a sharp crack as the ball of ice exploded into shards that bit into flesh and blinded the female beastkin.

I charged through the hail of ice, tackling the second male beastkin to the ground. I willed my dagger into my hand and… froze.

It should have been simple: a quick slice across the carotid artery, as I had been taught. But I hesitated long enough for the beastkin's yellow eyes to fix on me. Without a second thought, he slammed his forehead into mine. As I blinked away stars, my world turned upside down as he threw me over him. I rolled several feet, stopping short of slamming into a tree.

Why did I freeze?

As I shook off my daze, the beastkin charged. Half of his face was burnt an angry red from the spilled stew, while shards of ice jutted out of his right shoulder and arm. I was numb as he pulled back his spear to stab me through the heart.

That’s when the tree I was thrown beside opened its eyes.

The beastkin screamed as the tree threw a bearded axe in a short arc at his head. As the axe split the skull, the beastkin’s eyes popped out of their sockets. He launched his spear in a final death spasm, throwing it wide to bounce off the tree's bark.

Dugan pulled himself from the tree's surface; his skin, clothing and hair were the same texture as the bark, acting as camouflage and armour. He walked past me and jerked his axe from the beastkin's head. With single-minded focus, he executed the female and unconscious male beastkin as Isla walked up to my side, the colour draining from her face.

I had choked, and it almost got me killed.

Dugan walked up to me and held out his hand. I took it. He easily lifted me to my feet, motioning forward with his axe as he disappeared into the night.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" Isla asked.

“No…”

She looked from the bodies that littered the camp to the direction Dugan ran off.

"It looks like you'll get your chance tonight."

She held her staff tight to her body and ran after Dugan.

I stood alone in the camp, the dagger heavy in my hand.

I failed… again.

Is this why Sin disappeared after the fire? What utility was there in a weapon that couldn’t kill?

I took a deep breath and then another.

Isla was right. I would get another chance tonight, and next time, I wouldn’t hesitate. Gripping my dagger tighter, I ran into the forest after Dugan and Isla.