Eye of Saffiyah |✔️

7

I parry a Hunter's blade and block another's dagger that would have otherwise pierced my ribs. Raise my staff, block, parry, and occasionally give them a bruise. I recall my combat rhythm. At first the movements are unfamiliar, stiff. But years of training soon click into place. 

I grunt as a punch sends me crashing into a stack of crates. Black spots dance before my eyes. As I regain my footing, I sense and dodge a flying dagger.

"Why?" I ask again. "What do you have to gain in fighting me?" No answer. I grimace as I am forced to knock out a Hunter from the knees. She grunts and falls. No cry of pain. No sign of concern from the others, either. I frown and easily block a stab to my chest.

Amidst the grunts and clash of metal against wood—I have not seen any use for my blades just yet—a single thought prevails. Where is Sohel? It is not like him to not fight me himself. A sweeping glance confirms that neither him nor my jackals are in the barn anymore. 

I strike a Hunter on the shoulder and try to navigate myself through the fallen crates. The remaining Hunters wordlessly block any paths to the exit, which continues to rattle from the strong winds outside. I prepare for another round.

What is strange is their combat styles and moves. I think this through as I continue to swirl and dodge and block, stepping in a way that would not leave me cornered. I have readied myself for an onslaught of flashbacks, but their fighting techniques are so unlike from what I remember. These Hunters are less volatile, and more focused on working as a unit than individually. What is more, they feel different. Their presence is completely contradictory to the atmosphere the Hunters left behind at the Home. Is that why I am not afraid?

Enough of this. I sigh and put up my hands. "Prove that you want to kill me."

They pause for a split-second. That is all I need to escape through my hidden door behind the crates.

Once again, a monochrome world of the past greets me.  Where could my brother be? 

I take off northward towards the district's watchtower, just as the sky begins to rain once more. Objects loom in and out of the haze, appearing and disappearing behind a veil of the unknown. I try my best to avoid them, but once or twice I stumble and fall. 

"Sohel!" I call. I run past the flaming houses, ignoring the screams and cries for help that don't belong to my brother. "Sohel!"

Would the Hunters chase me? Certainly they would not think I would harm my brother. Or would they? I look back but stumble and fall again. I grit my teeth, flip over and continue to run. No use in thinking that now.

"Hey! Get back here!" I flee from the voice as fast as my wounded legs can carry me. There is no way I am letting myself get captured. Not a chance. Not when I have so much more to lose.

At one point I am running across a flat expanse of land, with little more than dirt to contend with. I pump my legs and ignore my body's plea to stop, to gather a gasp of the stagnant air as I run with an inexplicable sense of urgency.  Why am I doing this? My brother is completely fine; I saw him with my own two eyes not an hour ago. 

"Sohel!" I scream as loud as I can. I said I went to get food, but I also had the intention of seeking directions to a harbor. Did he know? Did he leave because he'd be left alone anyways?

What is this feeling of wrongness that drives me to run, to look for him, despite the fact that he left on his own accord?

Shadows loom ahead, but I do not slow down to navigate the fallen houses and sheds of past farmers. Instead my eyes search through the haze, looking for any silhouette that bears a humanoid resemblance to my brother.