043. A Vow

One of the men, seemingly their leader, stepped forward, beginning to lower his trousers. Rage surged through Liriénka, but she wasn’t helpless. With a sharp roll of her body, she broke free from the grip of the first man beside her. In one fluid motion, she unsheathed the dagger at her waist and drove it deep into the neck of the second man still clutching her left arm.
Blood gushed from his throat. The moment her hand was free, she spun and stabbed the first man twice in the neck before launching herself at the one fumbling with his trousers. Her body slammed into him, sending him crashing into his companion. Now, with her spear in reach, Liriénka was ready to strike again.
As Liriénka turned after retrieving her spear, a kick struck her waist, sending her sprawling into a shelf. The impact toppled a television, shattering it on the floor. Instantly, she rolled away and faced her attacker with sharp focus. Her spear shot forward, impaling the charging man in the abdomen.
From her kneeling position, Liriénka lifted the spear with powerful determination, widening the gaping wound. Blood gushed from the torn flesh, and intestines spilled as she yanked the spear free with a swift kick to the man's body. Twirling the spear around her, she aimed the sharp tip at another man fumbling to draw a pistol from his jacket, which hung on a door handle.
The force of Liriénka's attack was amplified by her momentum. The spear drove through the man's head from behind, protruding from his face and spraying blood in all directions. He crashed onto a table cluttered with meat skewers, sending plates clattering to the floor.
Unsatisfied, Liriénka methodically stabbed the heads of her remaining foes. As she had done before when saving a woman from the Olthgu caste in Léit-Nalamn, she delivered precise thrusts to each man. A voice shouted in a foreign language from upstairs. Covered in blood, Liriénka swiftly ascended the stairs, determined to eliminate yet another inhabitant of the villa.
Anton Legowo was jolted awake by the commotion. Yawning, he barely registered the sound of his bedroom door being violently kicked open. Before he could react, a spear pierced his neck, forcing his chin upward. His mouth snapped shut in reflex, severing his own tongue. The woman swiftly followed with a dagger, slicing into Anton's bloated belly, spilling his intestines onto the floor. With a brutal yank, she twisted her spear sideways, tearing half his neck open in a torrent of blood.
Liriénka twirled her spear once more before striking the middle-aged man’s neck again, causing his head to loll, nearly resting his cheek on his shoulder. With a sharp kick, Anton's lifeless body collapsed backward onto the bed. Though her fury still burned, the stench of human blood overwhelmed her senses. Instinctively, she moved toward the nearest water source and plunged her entire body into the bathtub.
Unfortunately for Liriénka, the water was warm, worsening her fluid loss. Panic surged through her as she scrambled out through a small open window. Leaping from the third floor over the villa’s wall, she ran towards the nearby lake. For the first time that night, she felt relief as she submerged herself in the mud at the lake’s bottom, letting it coat her entire body, erasing the nauseating scent of blood from her skin.
As the mud enveloped her, Liriénka's thoughts wandered. She realized that this new world, which she had barely inhabited for a day, was far from safe for her or any niylath who might follow. Reflecting on the ongoing war around the island of Arüniylath, she understood that half a day was already too late for the niylath to escape to another world. The impossibility of their survival in this place weighed on her.
Yet, she clung to the hope that the Ornkhå caste had pushed back the enemy’s assault, restoring peace to Léit-Nalamn. Or perhaps her mother and the niylath of the Méagni caste had escaped to another world. Whatever had transpired without her knowledge, Liriénka could only hope that her father, mother, and two younger siblings had fared better. But deep down, she knew there was little chance of seeing them again.
Liriénka lingered at the lake’s bottom, her stomach growling with hunger, though she dared not set foot on land again. On the surface, the sensory perceptions of a niylath were not much different from those of humans. But underwater, her sight, hearing, smell, and touch were far more acute. She could hear the footsteps of people setting up tents nearby, smell the aroma of fish being grilled, and despite the pitch-black night, she clearly saw a man tapping the lake’s surface—almost as if he knew she was hiding below.
If suicide weren’t so dishonorable in Arüniylath culture, Liriénka might have ended her life after her defeat by Jalu. At first, she was prepared to keep fighting until death, unwilling to become the first Elthié to descend in caste. But when she heard the man speak fluently in the Eldest Tongue, her curiosity overpowered her despair. His words sparked a small flame of hope for survival in this foreign world.
Her encounter with Jalu shattered all the perceptions she’d clung to. By Arüniylath law, she had become a tribute to him, forfeiting all her rights. Her life, her death—everything—rested in Jalu's hands. Yet, instead of treating her as a possession, Jalu showed her nothing but kindness and respect. He and his companions even sought a way to return her to Léit-Nalamn.
When Jalu told her their fight meant nothing, it was a profound relief. But it also weighed her down with guilt. She hadn’t been honest with the man who had offered her safety and comfort. The Elthié family was many things, but never deceitful. Liriénka felt shame for using Jalu to her advantage. In her heart, she vowed to protect and serve him with unwavering loyalty, at least until the day she could return to her homeland.