Crown Of Ice Ξ Editing

Chapter 2, Friends Till The End

I still remember when Karla and I met. Karla was using a stick to draw a face on the dirt in front of her house. My dad and I were leaving the house to go to the market. As we passed by, I told her to add eyebrows. And for some reason, we've been friends ever since.

So if someone wants to mess with Karla, they'll have to get through me first.

With that thought, I exit the house as quietly as I can. My parents are either still sleeping or wondering where the screaming is coming from. I silently pray that they don't come to investigate like I am. Although I might be an Outlander, they aren't.

Once out in the open, I march straight to the gaping door of Karla's house, a force to be reckoned with. 

It's almost completely dark, with only the open door letting in the light of the moon. Make-shift curtains cover the windows. For privacy or some sort of decoration, I don't know. Maybe both.

I notice that the screaming has stopped, and some part of me knows that it's not a good thing. I soon find out why. Near the small kitchen, if you could call it that, two bodies lay unblinking. Their faces are familiar. With a gasp, I realize it's Karla's parents. 

Pushing back the onslaught of emotions, I keep moving forward with the need for vengeance.

I make my way to Karla's room and don't bother trying to be quiet. If everything will go the way I want it to, Karla and I will be the only ones coming out of the room alive.

I don't know how to process what I'm seeing as I burst into the room. The moonlight from a nearby window reveals the corpses that litter the ground. Roots are wrapped around their throats and flowers grow out of the place their eyes should be.

The moonlight gleams against their medals, designating them as the King's guards. I try to put everything together. 

I realize something, despite the impossibility of it. I thought the guards made a mistake coming to Karla's house, thinking that they were looking for me, but I was wrong. Karla is an Outlander, too. 

I can't believe she didn't tell me. Betrayal bites at me, but I remind myself that I didn't tell her I was an Outlander, either.

Pushing this new information to the side, my attention immediately falls on Karla.

She's being held in between two guards, and she's not looking too good. Blood is running from her head, covering her face, and she looks pale. Her long brown hair is knotted and matted with blood. There's a large patch of blood on her nightgown, and I can only hope that it's from one of the dark figures, and not from her.

A third guard is nearby, holding a sword. He looks like he's about to swing it. And his target is Karla.

"Stop," I command, more confident than a nine-year-old should be. 

All eyes are on me now. I feel as if even the corpses on the floor are looking at me.

It's quiet for a moment as I maintain eye contact with each of the guards. I know my gaze is intense, like my inhuman like ice-blue eyes can look into your soul. So I'm using it to my advantage. 

The guards holding Karla flinch, but the third guard with the sword just laughs.

"Who are you to tell us to stop? We are full grown men and you are just a small girl." The third guard crows, amused. 

I glare at him and he stops laughing.

"Here, let's make a deal." The third guard offers, serious now. "If you pretend that you didn't see anything, we won't kill you. Sounds like a fair deal, right?"