#zaos

Death by ghouls or by books. Well, tough choice. 

Right now the group of ghouls had followed her scent through some old, elven ruins. Lush and overgrown with greenery and flowers it seemed like a relic of better times. Nowadays frost covered most of her homeland. Was this place an old temple? Hella had sketched some of the runes and statues earlier, hoping that a wiser Bloodhunter could make sense of them. 

All Hella understood were words about a forgotten, smaller deity granting blessings for a good hunt.

How ironic.

But some rich merchant had paid them a handsome sum to keep his business routes safe. Hella guessed that that guy wasn’t the brightest or most experienced. Dertona itself offered less safety and more snow, ice and gruesome nature combined with ancient monstrosities. Any merchant would be advised to settle down in the south, maybe near Ebrus. 

Dertona never rewarded the soft or weak.

A ghoul growled and grunted right next to her. 

“Fuck.” 

Hella closed her eyes, wondering if she should let go and unleash her inner beast. Trust her inner monster to defeat other monsters. She’d been bitten two years ago and still faced problems controlling herself in wolf form, indulging a lust for blood and flesh. If everything went wrong, she’d slaughter the nearby village men by men. 

She couldn’t risk hurting innocent people.

No. Hella pressed her lips together, suppressing another memory of slain people. 

“Concentrate, breathe.”

Fleeing didn’t appear to be an option, neither did wolfing out. That left some bottles of alchemistic fire and her trusty swords. 

Better fight them then. Night would soon cover everything in darkness, which only granted them more of an advantage. 

“Need help?” A smooth voice cut through her thoughts and Hella flinched, cursing herself for not monitoring her surroundings. Quickly, she drew one of her swords and craned her neck to find an … elf?

Standing just above her, seemingly not a care in the world, features handsome and delicate. “What? Who… what?” “Just a simple elf, wandering around and helping ladies in dire need.” He inched closer and Hella smelled herbs and salt on his clothing and skin. Elves were known for their sneaking skills, though it still amazed Hella how he’d manage to get close to her without alarming some ghouls. 

Hella threw a bottle of holy water into his general direction.

It exploded against his chest, covering him in pieces of glass.

“Eh?” “Just making sure you’re not one of them.”

He had the audacity to smile. “I’m not.”

“Fantastic. Then help me please.”

The strange elf nodded and grabbed her hand. He seemed stronger than his lithe build implied and pulled her to her feet. Never say no to a potential ally, as Alarik would say. Not to mention her own desperation at her less than stellar prospects. 

Their combined motions attracted their enemies. A whole pack of fleshy, undead beasts, ready to tore their throats out and to eat their guts. 

“Here they come.” Hella raised her swords, closed her eyes and concentrated on keeping her heartbeat slow and steady. Every mistake meant certain death and failure. 

And she wasn’t born for failure. 

The first attacker died quickly, sliced in half by her blade.

Her new ally preferred using a bow and killed the second with two arrows. He showed fantastic marksmanship and took position on some old stones. His steady aim helped keep some of the ghouls at a distance. 

Hella never lost footing but pushed and sliced and relied on her years of training. Blood soaked the ground. 

With him at her back, Hella found new confidence, a new focus flowing through her veins. Almost as if magic surrounded them both, vanquishing all her tiredness and somber thoughts. 

She caught the elf’s gaze. “Only a few left.”

“After you!”

Hella used her own blood to further strengthen her strikes, cutting her skin above her wrists. Drops of blood danced on her swords as she killed another one. 

One of them broke through. He collided with Hella, sending her straight on her backside, while moving far too close to the elf. Claws cut through leather and skin and the elf used a hidden knife to push it through its skull.

He patted the dead ghoul’s head. “Ouch. Not nice.”

“You’re okay?” “I think so. Just a nasty scratch.”

“And your back?” “It’s fine.”

The elf raised the corners of his mouth and inspected their fallen attackers. Some of his arrows seemed to be intact and he started to collect them. 

With their enemies dead, Hella took a moment to inspect her unlikely saviour. Tall and slender with dark, longish hair and very grey eyes he looked so out of place and more suited to the crystal city down south. Not to mention that his tan skin spoke of other regions too. 

Hella coughed to hide her staring and offered him a handshake. “Ah, thank the Gods. What is your name?” “Zaos.” Unfathed by her inspection, he nodded and took her hand in his. 

“Glad to have met you.”

Zaos laughed and it echoed through the ruins. “I’m sure it’s a pleasure.” 

What an arrogant prick. Hella moved a few steps away to clean her swords, trying to sound casual, while also luring him into sharing information. “And you from around here?” “Yeah, here and there. I don’t exactly have a home?” His eyes wandered to the sky. “Not any more, so I prefer the road to actually settling down. I keep meeting interesting people.” “I see.” Hella furrowed her brow. “A mystery then.”

Zaos smiled, eyes too bright. “A riddle, if you will.”

So, he wouldn’t share his story yet. Maybe he belonged to the forest and was a hidden beast as well? Or a part of the Feywild, which bled into her world from time to time. 

Would alcohol loosen his tongue? Trying to get more information couldn’t hurt and he wasn’t hard to look at, which came as a bonus.  

Hella patted his shoulder. “Care for some wine?” “Is this an invitation?” “Yes, follow me to my camp and have some wine with me. I can take a look at that scratch mark and hopefully you won’t murder me in my sleep.”

“I’d be grateful and don’t worry. In general, I don’t murder people in their sleep. I wait for them to wake up.”