Tales of Aeternum: Skye the Speardaughter
“Grace! Where is Aidyn? I don't want to fight you, but I will if you don't tell me!”
Skye and Grace stood on the edge of the Crow’s Nest camp. The place had a ramshackle appearance, as if a capricious wind spirit had gathered up debris from the coasts, and had tossed it onto the side of a mountain. But she’d felt welcome there, as more than just a customer of the Silver Crows, the mercenary group led by Grace O’Malley and the Soulwarden.
She turned toward the valley below, and bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. Time was short. She didn’t even want to think about Aidyn being at the mercy of the Varangians. Every second that passed was too long. And yet.
And yet, here you are, threatening someone you call a friend.
The cursed styrkr sigil that the Faceless One had burned onto her back hadn’t only sapped her physical strength. Even her own thoughts had turned on her, had filled her with resentment and self-doubt.
You were always weak. It’s not the curse. It’s your emotions. They make you weak.
It was getting more difficult to sort out which thoughts were her own, which were caused by the curse, and which were echoes of her father’s cruelty. And it was impossible to tell, which thoughts she could trust.
Skye gritted her teeth in frustration. “I won’t ask again, Grace. Where is Aidyn?”
Grace hesitated to speak, which was unusual for her, to say the least.
She’s thinking up the lies you want to hear.
“Shut up!“
Skye realized from Grace’s reaction, that she had shouted aloud.
Concern softened Grace’s features. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it, Skye? That damned Varangian’s curse.”
She’s looking down on you.
“I don’t need your damned pity, Grace!” Skye hissed, the legacy of distrust her father had left her, the
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