Elegy for a Star

This wasn’t ideal. Starting in Newdalk, Abby had traveled to Esterville for the better part of a month, all on foot. She had been stopping to offer help to every weary traveler on her way. It had been exhausting. It had been painful. It had been embarrassing and demeaning. It had been a waste of time. Now she was turned away from what was effectively the honeypot of people in need, to whom she could lend aid.

She tried thinking of her next destination as she returned on the road north. She could steer East and head to Tamworth, but that was a relatively small town, and there were no other roads connecting to towns after it. She would have to retrace her steps before going elsewhere. It was a bit of a dead end. Hudderfield was on a big crossroads, about the same distance away as Tamworth, but due North. That was the better option, but the last time she was in Hudderfield, she was forced to circumvent it. Turns out they weren’t a fan of Blackheart, either.

She could turn West and go to Wexrush, but if that turned out to be a dud then she’d have lost another month of travel. Wexrush was a big city, just barely smaller than Esterville, but it was home to the Rambolts and their gods damned Absolver cult. If Elliott Rambolt caught on to her presence, she would face far worse than a rebuking. She would be imprisoned, tried and hanged. It was either that or Abby would have to kill a lot of people to break herself out. Maybe she should risk the noose. Maybe that would be the easier method of repaying Sevarrans for her treachery.

Amaranthe would be disappointed in Abby for having that thought.

By the end of the first week, Abigail passed the turn to Wexrush. By the end of the second week, she’d passed the turn to Tamworth. She had decided to go to Hudderfield. She would have to go around the crossroad town again, but beyond that were four more towns that she hadn’t tried yet, and it also set her up to brave The Shield branch and get to the coastal cities.

She wouldn’t let the Esterville failure get in her way. She couldn’t. Amaranthe would not let her.

There was someone approaching from up ahead. A cloaked woman. A Fey. Judging by the blonde hair spilling out from under her hood, she was a Summer Fey. Abby caught a glimpse of blue eyes and painted lips as she passed by.

She had been distracted or she would’ve stopped to read her script and ask if the traveler needed assistance already. Instead, she spun around now and began, “Greetings, fair tra-...”

The Fey was in a mad dash away from her, and Abigail saw her coin purse empty upon the ground. 

“You thieving rat!” Abby cursed, beginning a chase with the Fey.

The Summer Fey was fast, and while Abby wasn’t faster, she was fast enough to keep up. “I don’t want to hurt you!” She shouted.

“That makes this easier, then!” The Fey replied over her shoulder.

Abby grunted, “Just give me my coin back, no harm has been done!”

The Fey laughed, “No thanks!”

Abby drew her sword, but was too far away to swing it. Instead, she threw it. The sword landed blade-first into the ground in front of the Fey’s steps, but she bounded over it in time. Abigail drew her off-hand blade, flinging that in a similar manner. This time it worked, and the Fey tripped upon the steel and tumbled into the grassy plain. Abigail abandoned her blades and tackled the Fey to the ground.

Immediately, Abby heard the metallic ringing of a blade drawn. Abby turned to her side, trying to grab the hand that was bringing a knife to her flank, but she missed, only to see a knife burst out of the back of her palm.

“Gods, fuck!” Abby screamed, “Stop it!”

She turned to look back at the Fey, who blew a cloud of purple smoke into Abby’s face. It stuck to her face and eyes, causing her to cough and choke. She couldn’t see out of her eyes, “Just calm the fuck down!”

Abby slammed her to the ground, climbing atop her and grabbing both wrists, pinning the woman to the ground, “Just give up. I am not going to hurt you! I just want my gold back.”

The woman didn’t have much of a choice, or so Abigail thought.

Abigail felt a punch in the back, realizing that a boot-knife just skewered her in the shoulder, remaining in her back as the boot withdrew, only to have the blade kicked in deeper. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you, you fucking-...” Abigail screamed in frustration.

“What the fuck, lady?!” Abigail’s face was red, her eyes filling with anger. She slammed the woman’s arms until the daggers came free from her hands. Abby brought her own hands to the thief’s neck, wringing it. “I could crush your fucking throat right now!” Spit was hanging from her mouth, but she couldn’t open her eyes to see. “I could open up your chest with my fucking fingertips! I have been giving you a fucking chance and this is what you do?!”

Abby squeezed harder, and though she couldn’t see it, the thief’s pretty eyes went wide and began to grow bloodshot.

“Do you know who the fuck I am?!” Blackheart roared into the thief’s face.

The woman grew red-faced, eyes filling with tears. She was punching  at Blackheart’s sides, kicking her legs, trying to push her face away from her. Blackheart was too strong, though. Stronger than anyone. She could make true her promises.

Eventually the purple cloudiness in her eyes faded so that she could at least see some blurry shapes. It was enough to see the Fey’s tears, strangled out of her. Something in Abby’s heart shook in that moment. She pulled her hands away in an instant, “Oh, gods. Oh my gods, what have I done..?”

The Fey gasped for air, eyes red and wet, looking at Abigail with absolute horror. “What the fuck are you?” The thief spat. Abigail climbed off of her, rising to her feet. She pulled the thief up to her feet, holding her hands up. Her left hand didn’t have the blade in it anymore; it must’ve come out, “I am so fucking sorry. I am so, so sorry. I-... I lost it.”

“Yeeeaah,” The thief coughed, “I don’t think sorry is going-.. koff!-... To cut it.”