A Crown of Gold

Ashes

Faye slept soundly through the night. She stayed in the room with pink curtains and vanity, I figured it better than the cold one with the ghost of past pain lingering about. I couldn't help but get up a few times in the night to check on her, almost worried she'd vanish if I didn't make sure she didn't. I felt a strange sense of duty to Faye, as if I owed her for her efforts to get to me. I felt like I was to blame for her losses, and in truth I was. Had I not passed through her town with Sephraim, the Slayers wouldn't have payed any mind to it. 

Upon my third time slipping into the room, Faye woke. It was the morning, the early sun peering through the thin curtains. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my hand resting on the door behind me. "I didn't mean to wake you."

She shook her head, stretching her arms upward before rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "You didn't wake me." She ensured. I nodded, chewing on my lip as I debated whether I should stay or leave her. 

"Well," I breathed, making my decision, "I think I'll leave you to wake up. Breakfast will be out in the great room if you're hungry."

She sat up, the nightgown I'd given her to sleep in shifting across her small frame. She waited for me to open the door, turned to leave, before she spoke. "How did Sephraim die?" She asked softly. The night before, I'd told her most of the story of how Sephraim and I had become acquainted; from finding Darius's egg in the river, to burning the church in my village, but I never told her how she'd been killed.

I turned back toward her, my tongue darting out to wet my bottom lip. I walked back into the room, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "She was murdered." I stated frankly. "The Slayers found us, and they shot her out of the sky."

Faye's brow furrowed tightly, her eyes looking down at the sheets. "The Slayers already found you?" she asked, disbelieving. Her green eyes finally met mine, confusion swimming in them. "I don't understand. Had the Slayers found you, all of Darius's territorial villages would be gone. Chances are you'd be dead along with Darius." 

It was my turn for my face to take on confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The Slayers are soldiers trained for the purpose of killing beasts. How many of them were there?"

I shook my head a little, shrugging. "Maybe six. Darius and I killed them all after Sephraim had fallen."

Faye pursed her lips. "The Slayers don't attack with that little of a raiding party." She paused, as if trying to collect her thoughts. I found myself leaning toward her, anxious for what she had to say next. "I don't think the Slayers you encountered were of a legitimate cause. I think they were a small group looking for lower profile creatures and happened to get lucky when they saw a dragon flying above them."

I looked past her, out at the sea obscured by the rose tinted curtain. "So Sephraim died on the whim and luck of some silver-mongering assassins. They weren't even looking for her?" It felt like an old scar had just been ripped open. Her death didn't even have purpose for the people who sought to bring it. Just some men with a big enough arrow and the mind about them to fire it.

I barely felt Faye's fingers clasp gently around my wrist. "I am sorry," I heard her say, from somewhere that felt far away. I looked up at her, her features blurred by a strange haze.

"I think..." I trailed off, standing up and pulling my arm from her grip. "I think I need to go now."

"Asha?" I heard her from behind me now. I was already down the corridor, making my way for my own bed chamber. When I got there, I slammed the door behind me, leaning up against it. My breath heaved from my chest in ragged breaths. I was angry. Angry that those men charred and butchered on the beach got away with only that. They killed her for silver, for glory. I'd show them glory. I'd show them what it meant to be a Slayer. I'd show the King of Hychora what it meant to throw stones at someone bigger than you.