The Fated Three

From the Shadows

Freya Pov.

    From the shadows of the trees, Freya could barely see what was going on. "I can't believe I agreed to hiding like some coward" Freya grumbled. Frustrated, Freya snuck a little closer to get a better view. From where she was standing she could see Delgan chatting with one 'merchant' who sat in the driver's seat of the caravan. The man looked uneasy as Delgan ripped off the cover of the first wagon. After a few more chatting, Delgan made his way to the second covered caravan. She couldn't see what was inside, and the plain looks on Delgan and Rose's faces weren't telling her anything. "What the hell is going on" Freya whispered to the darkness. She squinted her eyes to make out what was in the caravan. Looking at the first wagon she only saw some tools, cloth, and small objects. But the merchants were more focused on what was in the second caravan. Freya noticed two guards making their way towards Delgan who was peeking inside. As one guard stood next to Delgan, another made his way around the caravan as if to protect something. Again the driving merchant seemed a bit uncomfortable as he nervously shifted in his seat. Trying not to make noise, Freya leans in closer. Looking past Delgans fat ass head, she could make out chains and shackles. Her eyes could make out shapes that looked to be the slaves she knew would be their "fucking kidnappers" Freya cursed.

She couldn't help but think about Sylvie. Had she been chained up in one of these caravans too? Her gaze lands on a small figure. A sudden tightness in her chest made the pain she had kept deep down start to emerge and the sanity she worked so hard to keep started to break. 'It can't be' Freya focused her eyes again. For a moment she could have sworn she saw Sylvie, but after a couple blinks, her sweet sister's face faded away and the poor beaten face of a little girl came through. It wasn't Sylvie, Freya reminded herself. But the sight of the little girl didn't ease the pain any less. As if she called out to her, the little girl slowly looked up. Freya watched as the girl scanned the forest as if searching for something. After a moment, the girl's gaze stopped right in the direction of where Freya was hiding. Freya raised a brow. 'Can she see me?' she wondered. The little girls' eyes welled up with tears. Freya could swear she could see the hope draining from her eyes as the tears flew down the dirt patches on her cheeks. Her lip trembled as she lowered her head again in defeat.

The sight of the girl's helplessness only reminded her of Sylvie. She promised she would be there for her, but she wasn't. Freya could feel the shame and anger rising within her. She had failed once, and she would be damned if she failed again. "Fuck this". Freya drew her battle axe. She raised her hand to its sharp edge and slid her hand harshly against the blade. As the weapon sank deeper into her flesh, her blood coated every inch of it. Although she could feel a seething pain from it, she didn't stop until she was satisfied. She had to keep going until the redness of her blood flowed purple. She carefully sliced at her hand again until the thick purple poison ran off the axe and dripped to the ground. Once the blood reached its target, the poison took effect. Instantly, the blood on the ground glowed green. Feeling the roots slightly shifting in the dirt beneath her feet, an ominous grin fell on Freya's lips. Leaping out of the shadows, she slung her battle axe at the merchant guarding the slaves. The crunch of his bones colliding with the wooden wagon was almost as satisfying as the sound of his screams. Freya watched intently at where the axe impaled the man's chest. She purposely missed his heart to prolong the show just a bit longer. The man clawed at his chest desperately. He choked on his own blood and fought for air. Freya could see the movement inside his chest. It was shredding him from the inside. The man grabbed at his throat, but the deed was done. It all happened in an instant. Vines grew from his wound and oozed bright green. It tore through his eyes and mouth, wrapped around his body, and completely pinned him to the caravan. The endless thorns ripped and tore his flesh apart, startling the other merchants.