Purest Corruption - The Darkling [General Kirigan]

• Chapter 6 •

The next few days passed in a blur of discomfort and exhaustion. We stayed off the main road and kept to hunting trails, moving as quickly as the hilly and sometimes treacherous terrain would allow. I lost all sense of where we were or how far we'd gone.

Kirigan barely spoke to me even though we were together every hour of everyday and I started to worry that I'd somehow offended him. Occasionally though, when we stopped at night to rest, I would catch him looking at me, his eyes cool and unreadable.

I had never been a particularly good rider, and the pace the general set was taking its toll. Some part of my body always ached because I was afraid to shift even an inch in the saddle. Every inch of me was pressed against him in some way and there was no way I would move to a position where it was worse.

I stared at the horse's twitching ears and tried to ignore the burning in my legs and the throbbing in my lower back.

I noticed Kirigan's large hands pull the reigns and felt the horse slow.

Oh good we're finally stopping for the night.

We were stopped by what looked to be an abandoned farm, and I could hear a stream nearby. I thanked the Saints and slid awkwardly to the ground because of how stiff I was.

I waddled down a small hill to the water and then knelt by the bank on shaky legs. The cool water felt amazing as I splashed it on my sweat caked face.

As I looked up to see the sunset, the familiar feeling of sadness weighed me down.

I never got to say a proper goodbye to Mal.

I had been thinking about the last time I'd seen him everyday since, and it hurt me more than words could describe.

It's probably for the best.

There's no goodbye in the world that would've been fitting so what would I have said anyway?

Thanks for being my best friend and making my life bearable. Oh, and sorry I fell in love with you for a while there. Make sure to write!

"What are you smiling at?" A voice said from behind me. I whirrled around and the general seemed to come straight out of the shadows. He walked over next to me and copied my actions from moments ago.

As he ran his wet fingers through his dark hair, he looked up at me. "Well?" He asked.

"Myself." I admitted.

"Are you that funny?"

So he is able to joke

"I'm hilarious." A small smile crept up my cheeks, and it was a genuine one.

General Kirigan regarded me in what remained of the twilight. I had the disquieting sensation that I was being studied.

Other than a bit of dust on his kefta, our treck seemed to have taken little toll on him. My skin prickled with embarrassment as I became keenly aware of my torn, too-large kefta, my dirty hair, and the bruise the Fjerdan assassin had left on my cheek.

Was he looking at me and regretting his decision to drag me all this way? Was he thinking that he'd made a mistake?

"I'm not Grisha," I blurted.

"The evidence suggests otherwise," he said with little concern. "What makes you so certain?"

"Look at me!"

"I am looking." He chuckled.

"Do I look like Grisha to you?" Grisha were beautiful. They didn't have spotty skin and dull blonde hair and scrawny arms.