Inevitable

Chapter 4

Nevan's POV

My first instinct was to call for help. Her pulse was weak and her breathing was ragged, suggesting damage to the lungs. I flipped her onto her side to see if I have to snap the arrowhead off, but it turns out she already did that. She must have done it before she passed out. I put pressure onto the wound, letting the blood coat my shaking hands.

I can't do this. I'm not a medic.

I can't save her.

Turning to yell out to the guards behind the door, a mark on her wrist catches my attention. Her skin is surprisingly soft, almost as soft to that of a babies skin, and I turn her hand over. The black ink stands out in the dark, like a low light glow, and I can make out the shape of a bird.

No, not just any bird. The bird that symbolizes intelligence and spiritual power. The bird of the resistance.

The Raven of the Iete.

I don't notice I am stumbling backwards until I run into the doorway and grip it for dear life. She is real. She is real. Iete is a she.

The man was right, Iete is real and she is a she! Her blonde hair is tight in a ponytail, keeping it out of her face, and her hood that usually hides her identity, is flailing back beside her in the wind. She killed the sweaty man, she came all the way here and broke in the castle to kill a man that told her big secret.

The realization of the situation hit me so fast, the air was knocked out of me. I have a highly known assassin laying on my balcony, bleeding out from a arrow wound caused by one of my soilders. What am I going to do?

If I save her, she lives and will most likely kill me and get away. If I don't save her, she dies and I have that blood on my hands forever. If I turn her in, she will most likely die for her crimes at the stake. So, 2/3 options send her to her death and 1/3 ends in mine.

I take another look at her. Her shallow breathing is getting worse and a rasp follows her exhale. Blood is still leaking out of her, staining the wooden planks below us crimson.

That is going to be a pain to clean up, I think to myself, Along with the body if I decide to let her die.

Iete looks to be about 16, even younger than me. But that isn't possible, for her myth has been around as far back as our records say. However, the girl infront of me is 16, maybe even younger. You can tell by the lack of wrinkles and the smooth, baby skin that she bares.

So, are you going to save her or not? A voice speaks up in the back of my head.

If I'm going to make a decision, I have to make it now.

...

She weighs a lot less than I expected. For her strength and proportional display of muscle, I'd think she would be fairly heavy. But instead she is as light as a bale of hay. I debate on weither or not to lay her on my bed, but wheeze of her breath tells me I have to hurry. Her lifless body flops on the bed as I rush into the bathroom to grab supplies. I glance in the mirror on my way out and I am surprised to see my facial features calm and conceited.

The sight of her laying on the now blood covered bed sends a lump in my throat and I feeling that I can't quite pinpoint. I set the medical supplies down on the side table and turn back, ready to get to work.