Tessanna laughed, but there was not a shred of joy in it.

“If you do Ashhur’s work, then let me do Karak’s,” she said.

Aresh took a step back. Those eyes, he thought. Why can I not look away from those damn eyes?

“You don’t want to do Karak’s work,” he said. “Karak is evil and darkness. Those who worship him will spend eternity in the fires of the abyss.”

“Is that true?” Tessanna said. “Let’s find out.”

He had no chance to scream before fire burst from Tessanna’s fingers. She bathed him in flame, and when he finally did scream, she laughed.

“Praise be to Ashhur,” she shouted. “Bathe in his light!”

The light from her hands seared his flesh, and when he was nothing but ash and bone, a strong wind blew open the door and scattered his remains.

As the wind died, Tessanna knelt, her hands clasped against her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Her cold anger was gone. She was the shy, young girl once more. “You said you could fix me. You lied. You hurt me. I’ve been hurt enough. I won’t let anyone hurt me anymore.”

Mind still broken, she walked out into the streets of Veldaren, unworried about her hiked up dress and exposed left breast. When an old lady finally commented, Tessanna smiled, thanked her, and fixed her dress.

“Not a care in the world,” the lady muttered as Tessanna walked on.

1

Qurrah was the last to wake. The sun was high in the sky, dawn several hours past. He kept his eyes closed and his body still. Every muscle ached from the battle of Woodhaven the day before. He thought of his escape with his master…former master, he corrected mentally. Velixar had died, his body riddled with elven arrows tipped with blessed water. Abandoned and alone, Qurrah had staggered through the fire and corpses, bitter and angry at his brother Harruq for not being there in his time of need.