Viktor's Wrath

The fire had burned low, its embers pulsing like dying stars. Silence hung thick over the cabin.

Viktor watched Kaavi, his gaze steady, taking in subtle tension in the man's frame. He was always composed, always unreadable…but Viktor had learned to catch the smallest fractures in a man's armour. And tonight, Kaavi had felt something that unsettled him.

Gavril ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. "Well," he muttered, voice taut, "that answers more than we wanted."

Joren shifted near the fire, arms crossed, his jaw tight. The image of the midwife on parchment sat between them, its weight heavier than mere ink.

Viktor could see the conflict flickering across Joren's face…replaying memories, unravelling trust. It was the look of a man who had believed something to be solid, only to watch it crumble beneath his feet.

Kaavi finally straightened, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of what he had seen. He met Joren's gaze.

"The midwife," he murmured, setting the parchment down, "she isn't merely close to the Baron. She moves through his estate unnoticed. If he's hiding something, she knows where it is."

Viktor's fingers curled around the worn hilt of his knife, tracing the familiar grooves beneath his fingertips. His pulse was steady. His breathing measured.

The Baron.

The man who had given them this assignment. This mission. An honourable ruler.

Which meant this deception ran deeper than treachery... it was a betrayal against the Baron himself.

Gavril scoffed, dragging a chair forward with his boot before settling onto it with an exaggerated slump. "We have what we need, to be sure. Let's just go and get the midwife."

Kaavi steadied himself, turning to Joren "First you will take this information to Baron immediately. His wife stands accused of treachery, and the next step is his to decide. We will wait for his response and then make the next move."

Joren hesitated, then gave a sharp nod, "Understood, I'll make haste."

As Joren departed, the rest stayed behind. The cabin grew colder, not from the snow outside, but from the weight of the prisoner's sin.

"And what about him?" Gavril finally asked.

Kaavi turned his gaze to their captive. Viktor studied him too, catching the shift in the prisoner's demeanour... not fear, but realization. He had stopped struggling long ago.

Because he knew. There would be no salvation.

Some deaths weren't executions. Some were reckonings.

"We cannot afford to let him walk away," Kaavi said, voice quiet but unwavering.

Veyl, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward. His movements were measured, deliberate. Viktor watched him closely.

The fire flickered. Shadows shifted.

Outside, the wind howled against the mountains, snowfall relentless. It whispered across the earth, biting deep.

"I want to be the one to punish him," Veyl said, his voice steady.

Kaavi narrowed his eyes. "Is this vengeance?"

"It's not vengeance." Veyl's hands curled into fists, but his voice remained even. "It's justice. I was orphaned because of men like him...men who thrived on the suffering of others, who razed villages for coin, who tore families apart for power."

Viktor watched the exchange unfold, his gaze flickering between the two men. Kaavi's hesitation was evident, but so was Veyl's resolve.

Kaavi crossed his arms. "We don't let emotions dictate our decisions."

Veyl inhaled deeply, holding back the storm raging inside him. "I know. It's not emotion. It's understanding. I know what he's done, what he is. Killing him now would be mercy, and he doesn't deserve mercy."

A long pause settled over the group. Viktor could sense the weight pressing against Kaavi's shoulders.

Finally, Kaavi exhaled through his nose. "Fine. But don't kill him. You don't need to be like him, from the inside. Do not let hatred guide your life."

"Don't worry, I would not let my emotions get better of me." Veyl's expression didn't change...but Viktor saw the flicker of silent gratitude in his eyes.

Without another word, Veyl turned toward the prisoner, rolling his shoulders, loosening his grip on restraint.

"You've done more than betray," Veyl murmured.

"You've murdered. You've ruined lives. Who knows how many innocents have suffered because of your actions."

The prisoner's breath came in ragged. He sagged against the chains binding him to the chair, but his eyes still burned with defiance.

"You think you're better than me? "He spat, blood flecking his teeth.

Veyl struck him.

Not with a closed fist...with the pommel of his dagger, cracking across the man's temple. The spy's head snapped sideways, a choked cry tearing from his throat.

"Yes, I am" Veyl said, voice low. "Unlike you I do not point my weapons at innocent."

Kaavi leaned against the wall, his arms folded, his eyes...those damned knowing eyes...fixed on the prisoner. He had already seen the horrors this man had committed. The villages burned. The children dragged away screaming. The mothers left to wail over corpses.

Viktor watched. His hands were shaking.

He curled them into fists, pressing his nails into his palms to make it stop. It didn't work.

The prisoner groaned, head lolling. Blood dripped from his split lip onto the cabin floor...

drip, drip, drip

Viktor swallowed. "Why are we doing this?" he whispered.

No one heard him.

Kaavi did.

The older man turned, his eyes flicking to Viktor. For a second, Viktor thought he'd stop it...that he'd tell Gavril to step back, that this was enough.

Instead, Kaavi spoke, voice low. "You want to know what he did?"

The room went still. Even the fire seemed to quiet.

Viktor nodded.

Kaavi stepped forward, gripping the prisoner's hair, forcing his head up. The man's one good eye rolled wildly, his breath coming in panicked hitches.

"Three years ago," Kaavi said, "this man led a raid on a village called Elm Hollow. Not for food. Not for gold. For sport."

Viktor's stomach twisted.

"He burned the granary first. Trapped the families inside. Laughed while they screamed." Kaavi's voice didn't waver. "Then he took the children. Sold them to slavers. The ones who fought back? He made examples of them."

A pause. The fire crackled.

"One girl bit a guard. So, he cut out her tongue in front of her mother."

Viktor felt sick.

After hearing that Gavril drove his boot into the prisoner's ribs. A sickening crack. The man wheezed, curling as much as the chains allowed.

Viktor flinched.

He wanted to look away. He should look away. But he couldn't. Because now he knew. And knowing was worse.

Kaavi's hand settled on Viktor's shoulder. "You don't have to watch."

Viktor didn't move. He continued to watch.

The cabin stank of sweat and copper. The firelight painted the walls in flickering red.

Another blow. Another scream.

"Enough. He's not dying tonight," Kaavi said, cold as the snow outside. "Let him remember this. Let him feel the pain."

Gavril exhaled, his knuckles bloody, wiped clean on the prisoner's shirt.

The spy slumped, whimpering,

The cabin door burst open.

A gust of wind howled inside, scattering embers from the dying fire.

Viktor jerked his head up...and there stood Joren, his face grim, his posture rigid.

Kaavi's grip tightened on Viktor's shoulder. "Joren?" His voice was sharp. "Why are you back so soon?"