Underestimate Me

Josselyn kept silent. She concentrated on her breathing. Steadily inhaling and a quick exhale. She noticed how her lungs filled and emptied, though she did not feel the oxygen reaching her. She felt how the blood was drained from her face. Her veil was not protecting her and her complexion must be that of a corpse. She did not dare meet his eyes. He was too close and he was getting too personal.

He was the one that had betrayed her. He was the one that had her dragged from those sheets, had them touch her, slaughter her as a common animal. He had no right of the words he spoke. He was in no position to tell her about their past. Demons do not know good from bad. They feast on life and laughter, they do not have a conscience and they sure as hell do not get a judgment. As she tried convincing herself of her own words she looked at him.

This is just him getting under your skin. The wind that encircled her played with her hair a bit, though Emma or Rowen were not touched by the breath of Maa. She whispered to her, the wind blowing a voice Josselyn had often heard in her dreams. “Keep this just path,” Her voice was eerie, like a northern wind, blowing through caves and across mountain tops. “Keep this path, my child.”

She had been distracted for a short moment. The questions of Emma had passed her by. The little sister had averted her attention to their prisoner. Asking him the same intrusive queries.

“No. I do not remember the company I kept.” His words made her watch the empty eyes of Kolby. His hair spread on the woodland floor, as a halo around his face. The blood that had trickled down the corners of his mouth as he had choked on his own vital fluid. She had tried to make his suffering short lived. She had pushed the arrow further, piercing his heart completely. He had stopped writhing. He had almost looked peaceful; the way his hands had grasped at the dirt and now lay there, motionless.

“He truly likes you.” a soft voice attacked her from behind. As a thief caught in the act, she jumped and swirled her head around. She felt her skirts swirl around her legs as she turned. A man was standing behind her, his shoulder resting against a tree, his face in the shadows.

“Sir, ehm, Kolby, why do you scare me so much,” Josselyn sighed as she saw who the stranger was that was talking to her. Her heart needed some time to calm down, for the bewilderment of her discovery, and the subject of her eyes had made it speed up and race. She had been spying. She must confess she had been spying. She’d been watching Rowen. Josselyn had walked out to the clearing, just behind the village walls. Passing the fortification she had pretended to go get some water from the stream, the bucket quickly discarded once out of sight. She had sneaked up to the small patch of grass that she knew Rowen would be at; getting lessons from Sir Uwen. Hidden behind a tree, she peeked every time she felt it save, as she heard the clattering of swords increase. He would be too occupied with his fencing to notice her. She had hidden herself well, but not well enough.

“Dear Josselyn, why are you here for me to scare?” Kolby bounced back the question. He was still covered by shadows, leaf like patterns covering his face; making him out to be a graceful wood elf. The mystery befitting of the young man, for he was a privy one. There was a played nonchalance in his body language but it was evident that it did not suit him. It was a layer of Rowen he had draped upon himself, but Kolby was not nonchalant. He was meticulous; he was careful, not careless.

“I do not know, excuse me sir, I must go now. My fiancée awaits me.” Josselyn grabbed her skirts and made haste, her feet almost stumbling over the dragging fabric. She knew why she had been drawn to watch the raw violence of the swordplay. She knew why she had watched Rowen in his strongest form. She had needed to see him. It had been a drift as strong as breathing.

“Leave him be Josselyn,” She heard Kolby say; he had sped behind her, chasing her skirts as they had fled the scene of the crime. “You could never been together, Elrik would never have allowed it, you have known it for years and held him at bay. Stay true to your path.”

As she looked at the hair in her hands she saw that the braid was done. She was done. She had braided herself into her former life, trying to connect to Rebecca in a strange way. Trying to connect with the life she had taken, recalling Kolby. Her memories had picked her up and dropped her back two years ago. Leaving her to relive it all, just to be closer. Closer to Rebecca, to a time that they had been together. She had wallowed in her past.

“The girl you ask of is dead,” she said to Emma. “I would not know what company she held for she only shows me her hauntings.” Dropping the braid to the girl’s back, she stood. Josselyn walked up to the edge of the river, contemplating if she should drench her feet in the cold substance and divert her mind. She did not meet Rowen’s eyes but she felt them piercing on her skin. Evelyn was still holding the chain of his collar. She was safe.

He was not hurting her, not with his hands or his weaponry. Though he was armed. He had their past as the finest weapon, its edge not dulled but sharp to the touch. Words of the village, of days that she had considered herself happy underneath Elrik's wrath.

“What did they do to you?” Emma’s voice was small and soft but Evelyn would not have it.

“Bite your tongue little sister, if you want to keep it.” She snapped and in her anger yanked at Rowen’s collar. “And you, you can keep your eyes occupied somewhere else. Didn’t you learn it is impolite to stare at people?”

Josselyn did not turn to react to intrusiveness but growled her reply towards the river.

“I showed you what they did to me. Do not make me speak their words for they will feel like my own ashes on my tongue.” Emma averted her glance with a new found embarrassment. The girl was getting too comfortable and Josselyn knew; she herself was to blame. Emma was not Rebecca. Emma was just Emma.

Josselyn granted Evelyn a thankful smile and wished Meredith was back soon. She was so much stronger with their shoulders touching. Somehow she felt that the second in command was bound to her, in more ways than only a mission could braid. Rowen let out a small grunt at the tugging of his collar. The skin around it was flaring up and Josselyn wondered how much Gregory was able to do for their captive. How much he was willing to do. For he did not harbour Elrik’s men much love.

“I will train you. Meredith will help too,” His warm voice found her feeble body. She was still shivering and she felt weak and alone. “You will make sure no one can do this to you anymore. You will hack off their fingers when they reach out and you will cut their heads from their torso when they speak foul. You hear me?!” He grabbed her by her shoulders and shook. She felt her head bobbing more than her neck muscles were supposed to allow. “You hear me?! You will stand up, and fight! Come one little raven, Fight!”

She felt it as Meredith neared her. She could always feel when her sister was close. The little hairs on her arms stood up straight and she felt the shiver of her touch run through her. Stepping back from the water’s edge she knew she did not need the river. She needed the woman who had once saved her from those same waves.

“Ready to move on?” Meredith’s cold voice rang. Josselyn nodded. She was ready to move on. The dead might have passed, but she was still there. She needed to finish this. For Maa, for Rebecca, for all her sisters... for Gregory. She was ready; to get this monster treated, beat Elrik at his own game and finally start living again.

She was still in the shadows, the shadows of whom she had been, of the girl that died. Gregory and Maa had not revived her for giving up. They had raised her. Raised her above them all. Raised her above Elrik and all his abominations.

Her glance quickly shot at Rowen. His eyes glazed over and his face flushed. She wondered if this seed of Elrik would again be the one to take her down.

His vulnerability ending her stride.