Page 106 of Forged in Fading

Was that even possible, a shifter forever stuck in their animal form? “Who’s Kielana?” Alvara called as Rav retreated into the town. There were so many other questions she could have asked, but that one smoldered in her gut in a way she couldn’t ignore.

“Ask him yourself.”

His words bothered her the rest of the day, long after he disappeared into the town that was slowly coming back to life. If anything, Alvara had only become more distracted since losing Boden. Well, losing was a poor choice of words. She had pushed him away on purpose, knowing full well what she was doing.

His presence had steadied her, helped her feel joy and levity even when everything seemed dark.

Gods damn it, she was an utter fool.

Alvara turned to Oda. “I need a favor.”

Alvara kicked off her animal hide. It was too damn scratchy to sleep in, not that she had been doing much of that anyway. Instead, she had spent most of the night ruminating over everything she wanted to say to Boden when the sun rose, and she couldn’t sit still any longer. Hopefully a walk on the beach would quiet her mind.

She scrounged up a set of clothes, strapped her dagger to her hip, and snuck outside. The stars glimmered in the inky vastness of the sky as she walked through the slumbering town to the shore.

It was peaceful at night here, even with the noise of the crashing waves as her only companion. She slid her feet into the biting cold water and wiggled her toes in the grainy sand. It still felt strange, seeing such a vast expanse of sea instead of Vorianta’s mountains, but this place had started to captivate her all the same.

Sand crunched behind her, snagging her attention away from the calming waters. Likely one of her friends coming to check on her, even though she didn’t deserve their worry after shutting herself away for the past week.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked.

The steps quickened, and a body knocked her into the water, grinding grains of sand into her skin. She choked on the stinging liquid as they forced her down.

Her dagger. She fumbled for the weapon and swung. The blade sank into flesh, and her attacker’s grip loosened. She wrenched herself free and managed a single gasp of air. A web of ice crystals ensnared the man on top of her, and she stumbled out of the water with her dagger.

There wasn’t just one human. There were four. What in the nine realms was happening?

Sharp metal sliced down her arm, and she lurched forward, clutching the wound. Hot blood dribbled through her fingers.

Her attacker held a spear. Then why did he try to drown her first?

Alvara turned, ice shield in hand, only to take a glancing blow to her cheek. She hurled bolts of ice, puncturing her attacker’s arms and legs, and he collapsed to his knees with a moan as she snatched his weapon from his hands.

There were three left, and the sleeping halls were too far. No help would come. At least now she had a spear.

She grabbed a fistful of sand and rushed toward the next man only paces away. She tossed it in his face and ducked just before he lifted his shield and swung his axe into the empty air. Her spear swiped across his legs, and he dropped to the ground in a heap.

The other two humans advanced from opposite sides. Thank Vitharen they were slow compared to her. But two slow attackers were still worse than one.

She snatched the shield from the fallen man’s hands and bashed him in the skull. Her fingers tightened around the wooden handle as the next closest human wielded his longsword with a wicked smile.

Oh, damn it all. Alvara flung her dagger at the man who advanced from farther away and struck him in the thigh, but he didn’t fall. She turned and unleashed the full strength of her power on her other closer attacker, encasing the man’s body in a thick block of ice.

A hand yanked on her unbound hair, slammed her backward into the ground, and flung her weapons from her grasp. Her vision wavered as fingers strong as iron closed around her neck, squeezing out every last bit of air from her lungs.

The first human who attacked her. She hadn’t felled him like she thought.

She pried at his grip, slicing his skin with her nails, but he only pressed harder. Blood gushed down his arms, pooling where his hands crushed her throat.

Choked gasps staggered from her lips as she tried to get air. His face, twisted in fury, started to blur. She scraped the sand for her spear, but her fingers scratched wood instead.

A shield.

She swung it as hard as she could with her weak limbs. It landed with a meaty crack to the man’s skull, and he crashed to the ground. She drew a ragged breath, staggered to her feet, and grabbed her spear. It rattled in her shaking hands.

Before her stood an ox of a man hefting a massive axe and shield, with her dagger still lodged in his right thigh. Only one person held a chance of hearing Alvara’s plea for help, if he was in his shifter form.

She decided she wouldn’t mind if his name was the last word on her lips before leaving this world.