Lost

He had found his boots.

Looking down at his hand, he opened and closed it. Trying to get the stiffness out of it from the use of his sword. In his past life, this didn't happen, but it was like starting fresh in this body.

Looking around the late harpy’s cabin, he plodded his way to a shelf over the fireplace. Looking at the overstuffed shelf, with various boxes and jars filled with medicinal herbs and seasonings, he randomly grabbed a jar. Inside, about filling half of it, were shriveled leaves.

Unscrewing it, he brought it up to his nose, giving it a sniff. Recoiling and coughing from the potent smell of mint, Lost glanced over to Fen.

She sat quietly on the bed, staring at the floor boards.

Taking a leaf from the jar, Lost shoved it in his mouth and chewed while putting the lid back on. Setting the jar back on the shelf, Lost walked over to Fen.

The mint leaf had no flavor, but due to its potency, he could feel a kind of cool air and smell mint. It was about the closest thing he so far had been able to get to tasting. Lost savored it.

Stopping about a foot away from where Fen sat, Lost asked, “Who’s winning?”

Snapping her head up, she said, “Huh?”

Motioning to the boards in front of her, Lost said, “The floor. Who’s winning the staring contest?”

Fen giggled a little, but she didn't smile. Resuming her contest with the floor, Fen fell silent.

Lost decided it best to leave her be, he explored more of the cabin. Looking at the various jars and boxes, he scanned for anything of use.

While stepping over to the kitchen area, a board creaked under his boot. Looking down, Lost jumped a little, testing for the creak again. Sure enough, it creaked.

‘Aha! Found you!’ Lost thought, crouching down. Feeling around on the board, Lost was able to get a grip on the edge and pry it up. Fen walked over to see what he was doing.

Where the board used to be, was a small, dusty cubby. Inside lay a pouch, a few parchments of paper and a sheathed curved dagger.

Eagerly grabbing hold of the draw string pouch, Lost opened it. Inside lay numerous red iron and copper coins. Giving it a jiggle, Lost smiled happily.

He was about to pocket the pouch, when Fen stopped him. “It's not right taking from a dead person… especially Sadora.” She sounded sad and angry. With a glance at her, Lost could tell she was mad.

“Kid, we need this more than her,” said Lost, standing up and putting his hands on Fen’s shoulders.

She looked infinitely sad, scared and angry. Whether at him, he was not sure.

“Can’t you bring her back, like you did with the soldiers?” It was an innocent question, but Lost winced at what it implied. He had once thought he could do it himself, but when he had done it, it brought only pain to the one he had brought back. In the end, he had to extinguish their soul, for it was far too scarred to save, to twisted. It also gained him a new enemy, one which he had been incredibly close to.

“I wish it worked like that. But it doesn't.”

Fen shot a questioning and angry look at him.

Lost sucked in a deep breath of air and then slowly exhaled, “I didn't bring the soldiers back, I guess you could say, I animated their bodies,” Lost looked down at Fen, she still gave him a questioning look. So he continued, leading her over to the bed and sitting down. “What I did, was use my magic to temporarily power up their bodies, imbuing in it my wish. That wish was to destroy the other soldiers.

“They were not brought back, what I did was was turn them into embodiments of my will. When I cut off the supply of mana I gave them, their bodies could no longer function. They were nothing but empty shells, with no capacity for thought, pain and few other things, other than the hunger for souls. Do you understand, Fen?” Lost said, looking down at the small wolf girl and using her name to help convey his message. Her big, green eyes stared back at him, innocent and on the verge of crying.

“I think so…” She said, the anger receding, but the sadness sticking.

Ruffling her hair and ears, he gave a smile she couldn't see under his hood. “It is alright to cry, just don't let your enemies see you do it.” Fen then burst into tears and started to sob.

Lost, feeling awkward because he wasn't that good with kids, said. “Hey, hey. It's okay. Can I tell you something, kid?”

He waited for her crying to stop, then told her. “There are many universes, all vastly different and odd. When a person dies, their soul moves on from this world, wandering through many, till its memories are gone. Once that happens, then the soul will be sent to one of these many worlds, where it will be reborn anew. As a new being. I can bet you, that right now, Sadora is somewhere out there, traveling through many of those worlds. And one day, she will be reborn again.”

Whether that helped or not, Lost was not sure, but Fen seemed to have calmed down.

After a few minutes, she spoke again, “Where do you think Sadora will end up?”

Lost let out a short laugh and stood up, saying, “That's the beauty of it, you can never know. There are nearly an infinite number of worlds out there.”

He walked back to the cubby in the floor and crouched down. Tying the pouch to the belt across his chest, he looked at the thin pieces of paper.

On them were drawings of a few people and some random areas, all with an extreme amount of detail. A few words were written under the drawings.

Lost set them back into the cubby and grabbed the dagger. Pulling it out of the sheath, he found that it was broken. A jagged slice through the middle, where it was hit and the point of the blade missing. He sheathed the dagger and placed it back in the hole.

Putting the board back into place, Lost stood. Letting out a sigh, he contemplated why an old harpy would have such a thing. Probably as a memento or something, the same went with the pictures.

Looking up, Lost froze.

In front of him, hovered a hooded robe. The face, much like his, concealed in shadow. It let out a hissing click.

The Wraith.

Lost’s heart jumped into his throat. Fear rising.

He jumped back, unsheathing his sword in one fluid motion. Holding it between himself and the Wraith, he let out a low, warning growl.

“What’s wrong?” Fen asked, looking at him with red and puffy green eyes. He looked over at her, then quickly turned back.

When he looked back, it was gone.

Blinking a few times, Lost scanned the room. Trying to figure out where it went. Eventually, he stopped and sheathed his sword.

Fen repeated her question, tugging on his sleeve with fear.

“Sorry, I just thought I saw something,” Lost replied nonchalantly. Trying to push his fear away. Whatever that was, he knew it could only mean one thing. He was starting to lose.

He patted her on the head, walking to the front door. She looked unconvinced, but didn't say anything.

Opening the door, Lost muttered, “Time to loot some dead bodies.”

Tess

She pulled herself up out of a puddle of dirty water. Her dress soggy and dirt covered.

Walking out of the alley, Tess headed for the castle gates. The guards noticed her immediately and came rushing over.

“Milady! Are you hurt?” One of them asks, his face hidden beneath a metal helmet.

Tess waved him back as he approached to check her saying in a shaky voice, “I am fine. Please get my mother and father.”

The guard swiftly ran into the castle, while the other led her into the castle.

Tess glanced behind her, watching as a brown hooded figure disappeared around the corner of the alley she came from.

Turning back, she entered the castle. The small vial in her sleeve seemed to get heavier and heavier with every step she took.