Footsteps thunder against the wood floors. A broad-chested man appears in the door, his blue eyes wide with anxiety. “What’s all de ruckus?” He glances to the empty bed. His attention snaps to the old woman. “Where’d she go?”
“I dunno,” the woman responds, shaking her head like she’s in shock. “She just… vanished. Like a wisp.”
Judgment darkens the man’s gaze, settling his dark eyebrows over his blue eyes. “Maimeó, ya can’t be believin’ in dem wisps at yer age.”
Shock washes from the woman’s face. She warns the young man, “ya know not of de world, Garmhac.” Her hands settle onto her hips and one eye widens farther than the other. “But ya best find dat girl before she gets off hurtin’ herself.” The woman drops her arms to her sides and her gaze to the floor. “Monsters always got a reason fer chasin’.”
Brádach stares at the woman a moment longer before moving back into the hallway. He swings a cloak around his shoulders. His heavy fur-lined boots clomp against the floor as he moves for the front door.
Swinging the door wide, he stares into the dark landscape before him. The barren tree branches clack together like dried bones. Moonlight gleams off the frost-covered grass. A path of trodden grass leads to the shadowed woods ahead.
He claims the crossbow off the wall and follows the nameless girl into the night.
Artwork by Ryan Bernard.