Aestril

The bulky man sucked his yellow teeth as he waited, watching the road from the top of a large boulder. It was not a main thoroughfare, not even paved. It was little more than a path, and unlikely to be chosen by any traveler but one who wished to avoid meeting others. The girl he stalked had used only wooded paths. A quiet chuckle rumbled in the man's deep chest. It was almost as if she sought to aid him in her capture.

A flash of color through the leaves of a short tree drew the man's eyes up the road. He stiffened as his quarry appeared. As she drew closer a wicked grin crept across the man's face. No orders had been given as to the condition the girl needed to be in when she was handed over. She appeared to be near her mid twenties, only a youth as age was measured here, but the body of a woman was apparent where her blue dress clung and fell in soft ripples as she walked. The girl minded him of water.

The man's grin widened as he imagined the girl's fiery hair splashed across the dirt, the feel of her body fighting against the weight of his. Another soft chuckle echoed in his chest. She wouldn't even scream, so he wouldn't have to occupy one hand with muffling cries for help. His mind made up, he jumped from the boulder landing with a deep thud in the soft dirt just behind the girl.

In one quick movement he had her wrists pinned to her back in one of his large hands. He pulled the girl roughly toward him as his free hand wrapped around her throat. Tilting her head back sharply, the man growled into the girl's ear. Hot breath caught loose tendrils of the girl's hair and played them across her cheek as the man whispered. "You made it almost too easy for me, girl. You should have stuck to the main roads where you'd at least have a chance of someone coming to your rescue. I've no idea why they sent me after a girl…but I've decided to make it worth my time." His calloused fingers crept down her neck and spread over her collar bone, rough nails scratching soft skin.

The image that suddenly exploded into the man's mind drove him to his knees. The certain knowledge of every horrifying detail of his own torture and death was played out within his head. It was not a suggestion, tickling in the back of his skull, drawing out small doubts. It was certainty. The truth of it drew tears from his eyes. Any death would be preferable to this.

Sweat trickled a path from his greasy scalp, through the grime on his forehead. His rough, shaking hands released those of his captive and dropped to clutch blindly at his waist for the hilt of his knife. The blade slid into his chest silently, save for a soft noise as hilt met hard muscle.

Slowly, the image of his destruction slipped from the man's mind and he realized what she had done. A last deep chuckle escaped his lips. Of course she wanted him tortured, killed. He reassured himself that the vision she had planted in his head was a lie. He had the girl. He had not failed. When he returned with her he would be honored above all, and before he returned…

The man tightened his grip and realized for the first time that he no longer held the wrists of his captive. Horror flooded his face as he saw the hilt protruding from his chest. As he drew his last breath, his eyes rose to meet those of the girl, who had turned to face him. Their eyes locked and another image slipped gently into his mind. He sank, the weight of the crystal water above him crushing. His lungs burned and heaved, desperate for air.

As Aestril walked away, the dead man lay on the dusty path, water trickling from his nose.