--- o For the Spooktober Prompt #17: Voice 0 ---

   She was tired. It had been what, a week since she last slept? Even longer since she had a proper meal. Her body hurt all over, superficial wounds and shallow cuts masked the constant discomfort she felt, the occasional debilitating bouts of pain that subdued her. They always came at the worst times, though she was careful, they were becoming more frequent now that the seasons were turning colder. It had been days since she ran out of water, persisting on the light snow she could get her hands on, though it did little good and taking the time to boil it into clean drinking water was time wasted to her.

   The cold burned her lungs, furthering the sharp pangs she felt with every breath, every movement. She knew if she took rest, she would lose their trail again. But she also knew she was in no shape to fight once she did catch up to them, so perhaps a brief respite would do her good. At least, it would be had she any food left to eat, and sleep always escaped her so it would only serve to agitate and deepen the anxiety she felt.

   It was quiet. Far too quiet for her liking. She’d usually expect the typical rummaging of wildlife or ambient sounds of the environment beyond the downpour of rain that dogged her every step, for now gentle. Silence like this always preceded chaos, so, like always, she kept her guard raised. A hand firmly on a small pouch by her side, and the other, rolled her wrist as though shaking away joint pain, accompanied by a faint clicking sound of a blade retracted into her wrist, failing to answer her call.

   Adjusting her scarf, she carefully scanned the area around her, taking in every piece of debris and potential hiding spots for ambush or for strays to cover themselves from a stranger such as herself. She could call out to see if anyone was still alive, but that meant dealing with people, and, like always, helping them in some way. It could mean a hot meal and coin in pocket, but any trust she had for such offerings were long gone.

   But how long had it been since she last found a village? They were all mostly abandoned like this one, now a scattered husk of memories and silence. She preferred it this way, people were too troublesome and she avoided them as best as she could, and this one did seem freshly ravaged, so she may just find some scant provisions to take for her journey.

   She sighed, stepping cautiously through the cobblestone road, the only entrance, and exist to this remote village. It wasn’t on any map so she didn’t think it had a name, far on the outskirts of the Dutchy of Catriona in the Vena Abra. Something that did alleviate her frustrations was how fresh the destruction was, buildings  were still smoldering and she could feel the ambient heat scattered where buildings once stood. If she could use it to make a fire, that would be nice. But it also meant she was close to them, perhaps a day or so travel.

   Yet she had a creeping unease about why they had come here. It was so far removed from everything there was little to no point in making the trek, on her own it took three days, for them, moving such a large group would take well over a week. Unless they only sent a handful of them to catch up with the rest later. But why? What was so important here that they even considered making the effort? They never did things on a whim, and they were very careful about covering their tracks. Maybe it was a distraction, a means to shake her off and give them the advantage of time and distance.

   Spying a small clearing in what would have been the village centre, home to a now broken fountain that seeped water, black with soot and ash. What a shame. But that wasn’t what stole her attention; what did, was the crumbled remains of a statue, a totem of some kind that could perhaps shed some light on the context of this place.

   Taking no heed to the scattered bodies, burned and dismebered. Butchered like cattle to the slaughter. Nothing new to her, though she would take notes on their wounds later. There were surely members of the Cult among the dead, and any information she could glean from them would be helpful.

   She took her time to scan the area, periodically clicking her tongue as she oft would when deep in thought. Already parsing out what transpired, where the attack started, who died first. But her focus was paused by the sound of something shifting, the feeling of something beneath her foot which she promptly removed to see a small pendant, and knelt to inspect it.

   A look of surprise washed over her, mixed with a flash of realisation and something akin to fear. Yet she caught it, and breathed deeply holding it tight as her other hand patted down her chest, taking hold of the one she wore. The same one she held, she knew as much as she held them both out before her. Identical, down to the minute details, though the new one was more worn, clearly it had seen better days.

   ❝ What— ❞ She breathed sharply, her mind raced as she attempted to figure out why this was here of all places. There was no way it would be, she had the original in her possession. Was this a fake? No— The craftsmanship was too perfect to be such a thing. A perfect copy? But how, and why? Was it left by the Cultists by accident, or worse, on purpose? Thankfully, the onset of coughing broke the creeping panic that washed over her.

   Wiping the blood from her mouth with her sleeve, she rose to her feet but froze. Her ears peaked when she heard something moving behind the rubble of a nearby building. Maybe it was a stray animal, but she couldn’t sense them. Well, to be precise she can’t see things like most could, as she was not among them. But her senses were sharp enough to make out the effect they had on the surrounding atmosphere, subtle ripples that moved with them. All life had it, so it could be something crumbling, an inanimate object losing to the weight of entropy.

   It wasn’t. Now that she focused on it, she could hear the faint breaths of someone hiding out of sight. Too heavy to be a small animal, too light to be an adult hiding in anticipation to strike.

   She moved seamlessly, barely the blink of an eye passed before she stood before the broken wall the huddled figure hid behind. Truthfully, she expected it to be a small animal, perhaps injured, yet what she saw was far from it. ❛ A child? ❜

   ❝ Are you lost? ❞

   She spoke softly, a hint of curiosity in her voice as she got a better look of the cowering child. She was, in fact, in disbelief at the sight of her, so much so that she forgot her common tongue. Were there other survivors amongst the rubble? She doubted it. How long had she been alone? What the hell was she supposed to do now? It was far too dangerous to take her in, and she couldn’t feed her when she barely had enough for herself.

   A brief flash of herself came before her, the girl was no older than when she lost her arm, and part of her felt a pang of guilt at the thought of leaving her to die. ❛ What would she have done? She wouldn’t think twice before taking her in. But I’m not her. I can’t— ❜ The least she could do was find somewhere that would take her in. Though that was a challenge, made starkly clear with the onset of cold.

   It didn’t help that she hadn’t interacted with a child for what, years now? She barely spoke to other people, the closest she got was when she killed them. Now that made her pause momentarily for a breath. She recoiled at the idea of getting involved, and she almost turned on heel to walk off, and she would have. Had she not heard that word. Mother. Wait— Did she?

   ❝ Don’t —be afraid, ❞ The woman, now moving around the broken wall to stand before the child, knelt before her. Now getting a better look at her, the odd color of hair and even stranger mix of eyes raised a brow. This girl was surely not from here, but asking why or how could wait until later. The woman spoke once more, her tone and expression softened, though her words were cut off by a bout of coughing. ❝ I won’t. Hurt you. ❞

   She noticed the girl fixed her eyes on the small trinket she found, which she held out for the girl to take. ❝ Is this yours? ❞

   And she did take it, though cautiously, holding it close to her chest once it was in her hands. The girl remained guarded, uncertain of whether this person was an apparition. Yet that mattered little to her, and she promptly leapt into the woman’s arms, holding her tight, barely managing to force the words out. ❛ Mother? Mother! It is you! ❜

   Taken aback by the child’s sudden embrace, she once more found a look of surprise and mind confusion, unsure of what to do. She returned the embrace, albeit sheepishly. As jaded as she was, she couldn’t push away a crying child. ❝ You must have been— ❞

   ❝ You were ❞ It was odd, she spoke in such a strange fashion, seeming to pause between words as though they came with great effort. ❝ You were on your own. For a while, huh? ❞

   ❝ Where are— Your parents? ❞ She said, noticing the girl refused to let go.

   ❝ My name. Is Elly. ❞ She added, ❝ What’s your name? ❞

   ❛ Myrr. My name is Myrr. ❜ If only she could speak such words aloud. How could you not know that?

--- o ---