A Tale of Revenge

The next few days found Anna on the road, testing her powers of clouding the sight of those who passed her to cover her pursuit, if you could call it that. She practiced shaping their perceptions so she appeared as someone else, or clouding their vision entirely so that they didn't even notice her—she was as good as invisible. It was tiring work, but her body adjusted quickly.

The power and her body seemed to be integrating, something both reassuring and terrifying. She had known the deal was permanent when she made it, but feeling the fire assimilate into her core was a constant reminder that there was no going back.

The book she had taken with her turned out to be a wealth of knowledge about the gods and magic. She began to learn more delicate uses of her powers, drawing runes and using incantations to direct the power. But having never had to cultivate her magic to make it grow, she found that she often pushed past any blocks she had simply with asserting more power. It was a bad habit, but she excused herself. Truly delicate spells took time and focus to complete—two things she was in short supply of.

Each night, no matter how tired she was, her dreams returned. Her eyes would barely have closed and she would be watching, listening, feeling her family and friends' deaths over and over. But he was there, every night, to offer her a way out of her nightmare. In her dream state she felt uninhibited by her natural aversion to his presence and she would turn into his body, allowing herself to take comfort in his presence.

During the day the thought plagued her that it was indeed the god in her dream, invading her mind as he had arranged for in their deal. But something about how easy it was to take solace in his presence made her think more and more that this was nothing more than her own projection, her dream state manifesting something, anything to keep her from going mad again.

She was also beginning to understand why Leonid had insisted on access to her mind. According to the book of magic, a person's mind was sacrosanct. No power could infringe on it and it required permission from the subject simply to be able to access their thoughts. Anna felt infinitely foolish to have given up the very thing that would have always been hers alone, even in death. She cursed herself a million times for being a fool but it didn't help.

Four days passed and her progress behind the men was frustratingly slow. Every time she used her powers, she was getting stronger but every evening, as darkness fell, she would still collapse into an exhausted sleep, barely managing to set out her camp far enough from the road to be protected. She was fast running out of her stores of patience.

To add to this she felt a gnawing feeling inside her as her body begged for release. Whatever desire her punishment had awoken within her was refusing to be tamped down. It ate at her throughout the day leaving her on edge and distracted. On the fourth day from the town, despite her exhaustion, she considered slipping her hand between her legs, just to ease some of her aggravation. She cursed her weakness, reminding herself that there was no time for pleasure when her family's murderers still walked free. She went to bed that night more frustrated than ever.

Sleep claimed her quickly nevertheless, and she fell into a different kind of dream.

She was standing in an unearthly darkness, nothing more than a void below her feet. Before her a scene stretched out, silent but clear, as if she was on one side of a perfect pane of glass. She saw the men's camp stretch out in front of her vision. They were settled in, comfortable and confident. She couldn't hear their voices but the smiles on their faces sent burning anger through her. Here they were, enjoying their campfires as she struggled behind them. She brought her hands up against the barrier and hit it with her fists, screaming at their laughing faces.

Tears that she had held back all day stung her eyes. Her dream self didn't feel it necessary to suppress her reactions as she did when she was awake. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she turned away from them. As always, strong arms closed around her and she buried her face in his chest. She sobbed quietly, feeling the tension of the day and her frustrations at her progress slowly ebb. His hands stroked her hair and she felt his chin rest against the top of her head. Anna's tears finally stopped and she sighed against him, too comfortable to pull away.

"I am never going to catch up with them like this," she muttered.

"You don't seem to be making much progress." The playful tone in his voice was decidedly ungod-like. For the first time in her dreams, Anna raised her head and looked into his face. It was the god, Leonid. But the harsh lines and unearthly perfection were softened. He looked more like a man now. A smile played across his lips. In the real world this would have shocked Anna, but now it seemed perfectly normal.

"That isn't very supportive," she countered, a tiny smile teasing the edge of her lips.

"Just speaking your mind." His face was very close to hers. The burning sensation that she had been pushing down for days came roaring to life inside her. Her insides seemed to clamor for relief. She licked her lips instinctively.

"Why are you here?" she asked, looking into the blue pools of his eyes.

"For whatever you brought me here for," he answered, his smile still warm, his face open. Part of her realized it was true; she brought him to her dreams to provide whatever it was she couldn't find in her waking life. This time though it wasn't just comfort or simple contact. She had this ill-defined need that she couldn't take care of herself.

"I don't know what it is," she said softly, her face drifting closer to his. "I feel locked up inside."

"I may know what's troubling you." His smile hadn't wavered.

"Is it serious? Should I be concerned?" She smiled a little as his face descended towards hers. She needed this, the lightness, the teasing. Her world had been too dark and grey for too long.

"I think I might be able to give you a hand." His lips captured hers. It felt so different than the last time she had been wrapped in his arms. Then his kiss had ripped her soul from her body and filled her with alien magic. This was a real kiss, his lips against hers warm and teasing. She let herself melt into him. It served to stoke the fire within her, but did nothing to truly put out the flames.

His hands began to run over her body, dwarfing her frame beneath his powerful fingers. A thrill of excitement ran through her, coiling in her lower belly, tingling in her spine as she arched against him. His hands made their way under her shirt. His touch seemed to paint her skin with fire. She gasped as he found his way to her breast, palming her flesh and running the pad of his thumb over her aching nipple. He took the opportunity to tease her tongue with his, deepening the kiss and drawing her further into him.

Anna clung to his shoulders and lost herself in the sensations running through her. His hand on her breast became rougher; his fingers plucked her puckered nipple making her writhe with her unspoken need. She needed more, not just his gentle caresses. She wanted him to take her body and make her cry out. She whimpered softly into his mouth, pressing her chest into his hand more firmly. He obliged, twisting her nipple and making her gasp as the tiny shot of pain ran through her.

She broke the kiss for the first time, pressing her forehead against his and grasping his shoulders even tighter.

"Please," she begged.

She felt, rather than saw his smile. His mouth found hers again, more urgent and demanding than before. She gave into his questing tongue, accepting his caresses and encouraging him with her own. His other hand, which had been holding her against him from the small of her back, began to make its way under the waistband of her breeches. Anna whimpered again as the ties loosened and his hand slipped against her pulsing core. She needed to feel him touch her where she couldn't bring herself to. She practically screamed in her mind, begging him to end her torment.

The anticipation of his movements, the uncertainty of where he would touch her next, all bound up in this knot of tension that had been hovering in her gut, made her gasp in pleasure as his fingers finally met her slippery heat. Her mouth fell back from his with a groan. His fingers felt so different than hers had, so sure of their movement. His lips traced a line of kisses across her jaw and neck.

His mouth moved to the neckline of her shirt, which had slipped down below her breast, leaving it bare to his attentions. His tongue slid across her nipple and his teeth came to rest against the sensitive skin. She shivered, her hands twining in his hair and drawing him closer, pulling him against her. His fingers between her legs continued their soft perusal of her folds, brushing against the swollen nub of her clit. She whimpered, needing more.

His gentleness evaporated. All at once his teeth came down on her nipple as two of his fingers forced their way inside her, filling her almost painfully. His thumb pressed on her clit, rubbing it in tiny circles. The pressure built up until it felt like she might burst. The shots of pain from her breast with the dull ache of his penetrating fingers amplified the wicked tremors radiating from the motions of his thumb. He pushed her further and Anna felt the pressure break, her fingers tingled and her limbs shook. She arched her back and called out in her dream, a flood of pleasure ran through her body like waves threatening to suck her under.

She jerked away in her bedroll, sweating and discombobulated. For a moment she didn't recognize the wood around her, or the quiet sounds of the forest waking up. The grey light of dawn was working its way towards where she lay on the ground.

Was it just a dream or did he come to her again? With shaking fingers she inspected herself. Her clothing was intact, laces done up and shirt askew only from her movements. She touched her breast through the shirt and band she wore and felt no soreness. She pulled the neckline down so she could inspect her skin but her breast looked the same, no teeth marks or signs of contact. Her hand traveled down between her legs after undoing the ties of her pants. There was no evidence of her dream except for the copious wetness that covered her fingers.

"Just a dream, Anna," she said to herself. "It's always only a dream."

She pushed herself up and set about gathering her things together. Today she needed to move forward, no more dawdling behind these men as they gallivanted around the countryside. When her pack was full she reached into a small pocket, hidden on the side seam and pulled out the book of gods. Now was the time to use her magic more efficiently. Today was as good as any to try something new.

She replaced the book and set her pack on her shoulders. She sat on her heels, hands on each knee, and turned her focus inwards. There it was, the strange alien energy that now sat at her innermost core. She pulled at it, imagining in her mind the camp she had seen in her sleep. She took the dark fire in her mind and wrapped it around her body, willing it to comply with her demands. She forced the image of the camp into the ropes of fire, pulling at the folds of reality that held her to the world around her. There was a rune she was supposed to draw but in the midst of it all she couldn't seem to bring it to mind.

For a moment nothing happened, the forest was quiet and it seemed the fire was slipping from her mind's grip.

All at once the sounds stopped in her ear and the darkness behind her eyelids became absolute. Anna felt the air squeeze from her lungs, just as it had when she was pulled from the tree those weeks ago. The dark fire grew in her mind until it overwhelmed every other thought. And then, it was gone.

Anna opened her eyes, drawing in deep breathes to her burning lungs. She steadied herself against the ground and found not the forest floor at her fingertips, but the well-trodden dirt of the soldier's camp. She looked around slowly, taking in the success of her spell. The camp had been made in a wide space surrounded by forest. The men had obviously left recently—fire pits still smoked slightly, the foot and hoof prints were clearly visible in the damp earth, leading off towards a space in the trees that lead out to the main road. Anna smiled. She was back on their heels.

She stood up too quickly and found the world swirling around her. A good deal of energy had gone into that spell. She took a deep breath and waited for the ground to settle. Her body felt stretched but she didn't feel tired, if anything she felt buzzed with energy. She took her pack off, thinking to eat some of her meager rations before she set off, when the sound of voices drifted through the trees towards where she stood.

She instinctively crouched down, adrenaline running through her already stressed body. They were male certainly, and loud, obviously comfortable. They were coming back from the direction of the soldiers' tracks. Anna twisted around, looking for cover in the large open space and finding none. She could break for the treeline but she didn't think she would make it in time. How could she have let them get so close? And what in the Dark God's name were they coming back for?

She could see the flashes of their movement through the trees. Time was running out. She could run but she'd be spotted and almost surely tracked down. She wouldn't get far on her wobbling knees. She could stand and fight but even that seemed foolhardy, surely she'd end up killing them and if she didn't she might lose. She knew the god wouldn't let her die but that doesn't mean he'd interfere if she was captured—that thought made her shudder. Finally her decision was made for her. She ran towards the only bit of uneven terrain she saw. As the men emerged from the trees she threw herself down below a small rise of dirt and used her power to shield her body from their eyes.

There were seven of them, one on a wagon, one on a horse and the rest walking, their weapons displayed on their bodies. They began to make their way across the open field. Anna gritted her teeth as sweat began to bead on her skin. They were cutting their way almost directly towards her. She couldn't think to move and hold the illusion so she remained where she was, praying they wouldn't run over her.

They grew closer. Anna could hear their voices clearly now but she was too focused to listen to their words. She closed her eyes, sweat now pouring down her face. The wagon creaked as it drew closer. She listened to its rhythmic sounds, willing it to move faster when the voices suddenly grew much louder, and the wheels stopped moving.

"What is it?" She heard one of them call out. She opened her eyes, her vision swam slightly as she focused on the group who was only twenty paces from where she crouched.

"It's not one of ours," another voice called back. Anna saw what the speaker had in his hand and cursed herself violently in her head. Her pack. She had left it out in the open and now one of these soldiers was pawing through her rations. He held up her spare dress, which had been wrapped around the food to protect it. "Definitely not one of ours," he cackled, licking his lips.

"Alright, spread out, find the owner," the one on horseback said. The men on foot took off in different directions, spreading out to find her. Anna cursed herself even more. There was nowhere to go. She couldn't hold this spell much longer, certainly not long enough to wait out their search parties.

"What do you think?" the man on the wagon was speaking to the mounted man. "Anything to be concerned about?"

The other man scoffed, "Unlikely a woman traveling alone would pose any threat. But I guess we will see the prize when we find her." Anna's blood ran hot; her focus wavered. The man on the horse had been scanning the area. His eyes snapped to where she was. The spell was back in place but she had been spotted.

The man swung off the horse and made his way slowly towards her. She could see his attention was focused several paces to her right but he was getting close. Her focus wavered again and he saw her. It was too late to pretend not to be there. Anna braced herself against the flood of fear that filled her chest and dropped the spell. The man's eyes went wide at her sudden appearance.

"Now where'd you come from?" Anna could almost see his fear at the obvious magic before him warring with his lust. His eyes raked her body as she stood up.

"This will not end well for you," she said quietly.

The man on the wagon stood up and shouted to his companion, "She's a witch! Kill her before she does any more."

"Oh she's no witch, just good at hiding. She wouldn't dream of hurting me. Would you sweet thing?" the man's voice slid over her like cold cooking grease. He was edging closer to her, one hand on his weapon but the other readying to grab her. Anna stared at him, allowing his approach, her hand slid to one of her concealed blades at her back.

Suddenly, the man on the wagon pulled out a horn from behind his seat and blew into it, calling the others back. Anna and the man facing her jumped, she from the sound but he was launching himself at her. A fraction of a second too slow, she ended up crushed beneath his body as he landed on her. Her hand was holding her father's dagger but it was caught between her body and the ground. Her other hand was being gripped by her attacker, above her head. She twisted in his grip, trying to dislodge the much heavier man who was breathing in her face through a vicious smile.

"Better than I hoped for," his breath reeked as she tried to throw him off. "But looks like we'll have company soon so I'd best stake my claim now." He shifted to reach down between her legs, just enough to allow her to get her hand out. In a flash the dagger was against his throat. He froze.

"Get off of me," she said through gritted teeth. He backed off; both of them got to their feet. Anna could see the other men coming towards them from afar. She counted at least four in her peripheral vision. She didn't have long. "I'll take your horse."

Her attacker laughed. His companion did not seem so casual. "Don't laugh at a witch!" the man hissed.

"She's no witch. I'd be dead right now if she had any power," the other said. Anna chose to largely ignore their conversation and started making her way around them towards the horse in question. She registered that they seemed strangely comfortable talking about magic, as if perhaps they had seen it before. The others were closing in. She could hear their shouts now. She looked over her shoulder to see how close they were getting. It looked like one of them was dragging another figure towards the wagon. She paused too long to understand the newest addition to the scene. The man before her used the moment to draw his sword and step between her and the horse. "Sweet thing," he said in a mock sing song, "put down your blade and I'll make sure the boys don't mark you up too badly. You're no match for me anyway."

Anna sighed, her head pounded with a mix of exhaustion and adrenalin as her situation became clear. There was no avoiding a fight and her soul would pay the price. But she was out of tricks; her focus and energy were too depleted for some elaborate getaway. All she had left was to face them. She turned to the man.

"This will not end well for you."

The last one died on his own sword. She had taken it from him in his panicked attack. She was so exhausted that as he stumbled away she had used it to brace herself from falling, as an old beggar might use a staff. It had given the man undue confidence as he hurled himself back at her, reaching for her throat. In the last minute the strange energy deep inside shuddered through her muscles, bringing the sword up, slicing his gut and lodging it in the lower border of his ribcage. The smell of his exposed intestines filled the space between them as the man's last breath left him.