Fear mixed with the powerful rage coursing through her body. Suppose they could get to the carriage. Suppose the zlatorog wasn’t too severely wounded. Suppose they could get past them to the mountain pass. Every scenario she could think of relied too heavily on contingencies she couldn’t count on. There was no way to launch an effective offense. They would have to defend themselves long enough to find an escape route.

The first attack came from the left. Instinctually, Tabassum pushed Aria down and covered her with her body. Rydon quickly switched hands and flipped his blade just in time to stab the vampire through the head. He kept his eyes on their leader.

It was pure pandemonium after that. One after another, they struck. Rydon and Rohan hacked and slashed at the assailants, trying their best to protect the women. Tabassum did what she could to guard Aria, making precision strikes to disable anyone who slipped past the two-man line of defense. She couldn’t see Itzel or the zlatorog but heard its cries while in its death throes.

They all fought as hard as they could, but there were too many of them. A brutal hit to the head sent Rohan to the ground, completely limp. It took three men to disarm and tackle Rydon. The first one to reach Tabassum got the dagger impaled through his hand. He screamed in pain but managed to twist it from her grip. Another of the enemies pulled her to the ground and twisted her arms behind her back.

Aria dug her hand in the fire to pull out one of the thinner logs. She swung it as hard as she could, stabbing the one holding Tabassum through his eye. Before the vampire’s body could drop, another red arrow hit Aria in the shoulder. Once his grip loosened, Tabassum launched herself at the faerie in a blind rage. She prepared another arrow for the attack, but Tabassum didn’t care. She just wanted to tear into her.

The faerie pulled the bowstring back and aimed. Before she could release, Itzel grabbed her from behind, picked her up, and threw her on her side. He was in bad shape, with numerous arrows protruding from his back. Another arrow from above stuck in the ground close to where Tabassum was running, stopping her from getting closer.

The rotten man, displeased with their valiant efforts, pulled Itzel down to his knees by his hair. He raised his sword and, without hesitation, plunged it through Itzel’s chest and down the length of his torso. He pulled his sword out and pushed the corpse aside.

“Are you alright, Calluna?” His voice softened as he helped the faerie to her feet.

Tabassum couldn’t hear. She couldn’t see. She didn’t know what happened next. She only knew that the arrow at her feet was now in her hand, and she was close enough to smell that rotting stench again.

Before she could reach him, she was thrown face down and held by arms stronger than hers.

“Coward! Coward, you fucking coward!” She kicked and writhed, trying with all her might to break the hold.

“Let me kill her, Egil Dear.” Calluna cooed in her obnoxious voice.

He smiled and pulled her close. “You have your mark, don’t be greedy.” He motioned for his men to bring the captured to him.

Tabassum could see her remaining friends struggling. Rohan had awoken at some point but looked to be in a daze. Rydon called out to his brother, but he didn’t seem to be able to focus on where the voice was coming from.

Tabassum tried to reach out to him with her tail. She longed to curl her tail with his as they had done thousands of times before. To feel the familiar touch of her best friend.

Egil picked up on this.

“Him first,” he nodded to Rohan. The only thing they could do was scream in protest as Rohan was pulled up into a kneeling position. Aria begged and pleaded for his life to uncaring ears. The axe he wielded would now be used against him. In one quick motion that seemed to last hours to them, the blade was brought down on his head, splitting his skull and sending blood pouring down the rest of his body.

Aria’s scream rang loudest in Tabassum’s ears. It was the deranged howl of an animal caught in a trap.

Calluna pulled a knife from her boot and fluttered over to Aria. She didn’t hold back her wicked smile as she looked Tabassum in the eye. Aria’s cries ceased; she stopped struggling and accepted what came next. All life had left her body before Calluna dragged the blade across her neck. The little faerie worked the knife gleefully back and forth in a sawing motion until it passed all the way through her neck. Aria’s body fell, but her head remained in Calluna’s hand.

Rydon struggled harder than ever before. Screaming, cursing in every way he knew how, the usually stoic soldier had experienced more pain in the last few minutes than anyone should in a lifetime. Still, there was one more person who could boast the same and more.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please forgive me, Princess.” He failed his duty to his country, to his King and Queen, and his family. His words snapped Tabassum from her numbed state.

“It’s okay,” she choked out, “it’ll be okay.”

Egil pointed the edge of his sword under an opening in Rydon’s armor. He took his time slitting open his belly and watching his innards fall out.

It was her turn now.

Tabassum felt no more anger, or sorrow, or fear. She looked up at the sky, noticing the moon and stars for the first time that night. She closed her stinging eyes one last time amid the stench, blood, and laughter. A sharp pain exploded in her chest worse than any she’d ever experienced before, and then, nothing.

“This one’s still alive,” exclaimed a distant voice.

“Oh good,” Tabassum thought in her delirium, “My friends are okay. They made it, and I didn’t. I’m so glad.”

Days passed before Tabassum regained consciousness again.

Weeks until her body healed.

Months until she found the strength to speak.

In truth, many of the details were lost to her. Whether it was an affliction from her injuries or her mind trying to spare her more agony, she didn’t know.

Night after night, she was haunted by visions of her friends crying out in pain and anguish. Screams in a voice so hoarse she barely recognized it filled her bed chambers. It was much easier to stay awake until the first light of dawn chased the darkness from her thoughts.

She needed desperately to heal her mind. She needed a way to make sure this wouldn't happen to anyone else. She needed revenge.

The slaughter of their own was a matter of outrage among the country of Artemisia. A national manhunt yielded no clues as to the whereabouts of the butchers Egil, Calluna, and their band.

Nearly a year had passed since that day. She should have been done with her rite of passage by now and properly welcomed back as the crown princess. The throne was the furthest thing from her mind. She reasoned that she had two younger brothers who will soon come of age and a baby sister on the way. It will be their turn to go out into the world, and she should make sure it would not be as dangerous as the one they currently live in.

What good is an act of kindness if her own family was in jeopardy? She wouldn’t fail them the way she failed to protect her friends.

“Today,” she thought while wistfully gazing at the brightening horizon, “after breakfast, I’ll tell Mom and Dad. I’ll train hard. I’ll enlist. I’ll become a soldier, and I’ll hunt every last one of them down.”