The Dark Heir - Nyx

10. Theia.

Theia's choice was Nyx. After cleaning his blood from her skin and crawling into her bed, Theia decided Nyx was the one she wanted to kill. Her life had been hard, and Nyx was the foundation for most of it. He had come into her home, threatened her, and taken every ounce of coin she had left. She wasn't going to struggle to survive anymore, that female was left in the past under Nyx's foot where Theia left her.

She didn't sleep. Theia left her bed at the rising sun and bathed. She pulled on her favorite sweater and pants- a little something to encourage her. It seemed fitting to wear a cloak rather than a coat, since Nyx seemed to terrorize her with one. He hadn't found the bag she kept with her that contained her daily spendings, always keeping a month's worth within it. Theia tucked it into the inner pocket of the cloak and left her house.

"Are you alright?"

The soldier at position beside her front door caught Theia by surprise. She yelped, sending her back into the door. Her ribs still ached from the blow Nyx had given her the night before, so she took a moment to catch her breath.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry for the scare last night. Someone came to my house and frightened me." She tried to speak with cool calm, but the flickering rage emphasized her words. The soldier cocked a brow.

"And the bloodied dagger?"

"Self-defense."

He pursed his lips and looked her over. Apparently he decided she was not a threat, nor in danger, because he bid her a good day and took off into the skies. Theia let out a slow breath and continued to the village. The shops were just setting up for the day, but Theia knew where she needed to be. She lifted the cloak hood over her hair and marched into the blacksmith shop.

The heat from the newly started fires was instant. Sweat beaded on her temple as Theia looked at the displayed weapons. The owner was somewhere in the back, more than likely collecting steel for his next blade.

"What can I do for you?" The older, gruff voice sounded. Theia turned her head to see him stepping from the back room, arm holding long steel poles. He dropped them beside the heating crucible.

"Looking for a dagger," Theia murmured. He raised a hand to his ear and she groaned before repeating herself louder.

"What type? Battle, casual, one on one?"

"Something for a female that lives alone with a male that has a vendetta against her," Theia spoke, giving him a look that solidified her response. The male gave a grunt and a nod, though she saw the grin that teased his lips as he marched over to the display.

"This one does the most damage. It'll hold them down long enough for you to get away. Even the strongest of our warriors need time to heal after a wound from one of these," the blacksmith explained, pulling a strangely shaped dagger from a velvet casing.

The hilt was curved to easily fit in the palm of the hand. The blade- that was unusual. Rather than the flat blade she was familiar with, this one had three edges. They curled around each other before combining into a needle-like point. Easy access, maximum damage. Theia could already imagine the type of wound that would come from this weapon. The tip would create a sliver through the flesh, but the twist of the blade would create a gaping hole that would take days to heal from.

"How much?" Theia asked, though her voice barely above a whisper. The blacksmith knew what she asked. He told her the sum, and her heart nearly stopped. It would be the final of her savings. She had barely enough to cover the cost.

Her throat cleared, hands gripping the fabric of her cloak. If it went her way, she would get her money back. If it didn't, she wouldn't have to worry about money any longer. Theia sighed and unclipped the bag from her cloak and held it out. The blacksmith gave her a toothy grin as he took it and poured the coin onto the counter.