ZAIRO

A pink sunset paints the sky overhead. Peaceful, gentle, and beautiful. It's nothing like the cloudy, grey turmoil in my chest.

I run with everything I've got, kicking up dirt with my boots. I push my body to its limits to clear my head, but I see reminders of Elystia everywhere. The forest to the west where she teaches archery, the lake where she bathes. She's everywhere. The kisses she gave me last night are still warm on my skin. The wetness of her cunt still snared around my cock, crusting into a white substance that I'm too greedy to wash away. I want to wear her on my skin forever.

I'm damned through-and-through. Damned for loving her. Damned for fucking her. Damned for keeping my bloodline secret. I should have told her. She deserves to know what my bloodline bullied hers onto a secluded island for centuries.

I run further away from the camp than I'd usually feel comfortable with. Anything could happen at camp during my absence, and I won't be there to resolve it. But I need to run to punish my body for enjoying Elystia's last night.

I run up a hill, grunting when I spot a toccha coiled by the path. The four-foot long, slithering beast is ready to strike.

I slow my pace and grab the dagger at my hip. It slithers forward in a zig-zag patter, seeking my blood. For a second, I consider letting it bite me. Let its poison seep into my cursed, forsaken blood. The blood of killers, cowards, and traitors. That would be the only way to hurt my long-deceased ancestors.

But I can't do it. Elystia would be upset if she saw another injury in my body.

With a flick of my wrist, I send the dagger flying. Impaling the creature in the head and ceasing its hissing. I retrieve my dagger and kick its body off the road, the foul smell of its body insulting my nose.

I take off running again, following the road for an hour before circling back to the camp. I've worked up a slight sweat, but it's not enough to drain my body and mind. Not enough punishment.

I approach a merchant on the road. An older female with a bird perched on her shoulder.

"May I offer you anything, kind sir?" she asks, staring at my chest so intently that I suspect she's not offering me products from her cart, but rather services.

"No, thank you. Safe travels," I reply, walking past her.

"Those tattoos!" she exclaims. "A captain, are you?"

I slow down and turn to face her. "Do we have unfinished business?"

"No, Captain. I'd just like to humbly request permission to enter your camp."

"Permission granted," I reply. Her face seems familiar. She's likely a merchant that frequents camp. "Wait by the gates if the guards do not let you proceed. I will come."

"Mhmm, I'll make you cum, alright," she murmurs.

I raise an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing, sir!" she laughs and slaps her cart. "Just the ramblings of an old woman."

"What was your name?"

"Kinno. At your service, Captain." She grins, and I take a step backward. I might have survived the slithering toccha that I killed on the road, but something tells me I might not survive this old lady.

I lower my chin respectfully and resume my run, circling back towards the camp. Instead of getting fatigued the further I run, my body finds energy to make me run faster. As if desperate to return to Elystia. I don't know what to make of this newfound, overwhelming attachment. I've never been one to cling, no matter what luxuries and comforts life offered. The palace offer cohorts of women, wealth and fame, but I left it behind. Elystia is just one girl, yet I can't see myself leaving her. I need to hear her laugh, see her smile. I need to hear her jokes and thick accent. I need to trace every part of her body with my fingers, then my tongue. Fuck her until my tattoos have rubbed onto her smooth skin.

Back at the camp, I'm relieved to see that everything is still in order. The sun is quickly dipping and the entertainers have begun lighting the lanterns. I know that there's warm food awaiting for me in my tent, and a warm female body. If I smile at Elystia and embrace her, I'm sure she would forget her worries and let me fuck her again. But I can't bring myself to trick her. I can't make this a habit.

I duck my head into my tent and find her beside my bed, as I expected her to. She's a rather predictable girl, and yet she managed to wrap me around her finger–a seize I never saw coming.

She has a few scrolls spread out on the floor, pinned down with rocks. She could have very well used my desk, but knowing her, she figured it would be rude.

"Hey," she greets me, tipping her flute upwards in yet another strange, endearing gesture of hers. Every day I discover new mannerisms. Maybe that's why she's so addicting. She offers a new world in her innocent nature.

"Hello," I return, kicking my boots off and approaching her.

"You're all dusty," she says, scrunching her nose.

I glance at the scrolls to see what she's working on. She's practicing her writing.

"I went for a run. I'll refresh myself after dinner. Did you eat?"

"Yes," she replies. "What about your arm? We should change the bandage."

"Pay it no mind," I reply, falling to a knee beside her. "I must tell you something."

She pushes the scrolls aside, frowning as she sets a hand on my thigh. "What's wrong?"

"It's something about me. Something I can't change or take back no matter how badly I want to."

She falls silent.

"I killed the previous Captain of this camp. He was a good friend of mine from childhood. I killed him and took his place."

She doesn't blink. Doesn't flinch like another person would.

"What do you think about that?"

"I think..." she exhales. "I think you had a good reason for it. I know you, Zairo. You're a fair man."

She's understanding, not horrified. If she forgives this transgression, then maybe...maybe she'll forgive me for claiming her body while knowing I have evil blood pumping through me.

"The power got to his head," I reply, my voice getting thick with emotion as I remember the past. "He punished masters who showed an interest in his favorite entertainers and vengeful of the girls that didn't worship him. I ignored his tyranny for months. But he got meaner, lazier. I cut his throat when I found him forcing himself onto a young entertainer. She was barely legal. I saw red."

She pats my thigh, not saying a word. Not praising me, because taking a life wasn't right. But not judging me, either.

"Thank you for telling me," she says after a few minutes. "I'm glad you got that off your chest. I knew something was bothering you." She smiles at me, looking relieved as if she resolved something that had been tormenting her.

But this secret is only the tip of the iceberg. There's more that I haven't gotten the courage to admit.

Maybe I'm just like Droivik, the previous Captain. Maybe I'm also a coward.