Mithra dropped the carcass and stood over it in a slight crouch, sword in hand. The raptors circled her, snarling. Her mind raced, trying to find a way out of the situation.

  The animals weren’t attacking yet. A few tried getting close and snatching bites of meat, not at all bothered by the food being a former pack mate. The situation was eerily reminiscent of a scene she saw once of a bear fighting off a group of wolves. Well, when in a bear’s shoes, do as the bears do.

  The next time one of the raptors tried to steal a meal, Mithra growled at it and faked a lunge. The animal jumped back to the safety of the pack, flapping its vestigial wings, cowed a little. But the raptors were getting more and more daring, just waiting for a moment of inattention to swarm her.

  She wouldn’t get to safety if she tried dragging the whole carcass with her, but damn if she wasn’t going to get something out of it. It was her prey. She fought for it and killed for it, her blood-soaked cloak proving the fact. She wasn’t willing to die for it, though.

  Keeping her head on a swivel, she cut off one leg of the creature with quick, sharp motions. Whenever a raptor got too close, she snarled at it until it backed off. Finally, she hauled her prize with one arm and walked confidently towards where she judged the circle of animals was the weakest.

  They made way for her, recognizing a threat. A few snapped their snouts in futility as she passed, but soon the flock started fighting over the leftover carcass, ignoring her entirely. Quickly, the pecking order was established, some raptors eating and the others watching, waiting their turn.

  She was almost past all of them, when three smaller raptors separated from the group. They must have judged their chance at a meal too low and decided to go after her. She lashed out with her sword at the approaching group, catching one with it, but the others were faster. They got on either side of her and attacked.

  Mithra swung the chopped off leg at one raptor, hitting it in the snout and knocking out a few teeth. The creature backed off, dazed, but the other was already on her. It bit into her sword arm, gouging deep grooves in her bicep. She threw it off with a scream of pain, but that caught the attention of the rest of the pack. They sensed weakness. More animals joined the fray, chasing after the now-running Mithra.

  She had to get into a building, preferably one without any holes in the walls. An impossible task in a ruined city. Her arm burned, blood dripping on the snow. With every step she was dangerously close to slipping on the thin layer of ice and debris. She’d never make it back to her hideout at this pace.

  An idea struck her and she changed direction rapidly, dashing into the nearest building. If she couldn’t find shelter, she’d make do in a different way. The building she chose was one of the glass giants, with a staircase visible from the outside. It was perfect for her plan.

  Raptors snapped at her feet as she made her way up the first flight of stairs. The stairway was narrow, with a small flat space at the end of each flight where the stairs turned. Mithra came to a stop there, pivoting on her feet.

  Seeing their prey suddenly stop running and face them, the raptors hesitated. A young upstart tried its luck, but she was ready. A quick stab through the roof of its mouth, and the creature retreated in a spray of blood.

  With a yell, Mithra announced her intention. She was no helpless prey to be cornered and killed. She claimed this place as hers and would not back down. But the creatures wouldn’t back down so easily either.

  The stairway was wide enough to let only two of them attack at once, but that didn’t stop them from trying. The ones in the back pushed, smelling blood and trying to get into the action, making those closer to Mithra stumble forward. She took advantage of their lack of coordination and soon two more carcasses were lying motionless on the stairs.

  There were plenty of raptors though, two warm bodies taking the place at the front. She was about to stab at them too when one enterprising animal jumped with a screech, flapping its underdeveloped wings to gain more distance. It landed on the steps above Mithra.

  The moment of inattention cost her, as one of the front-liners bit into her left arm and didn’t let go. She furiously stabbed at it until it was hanging lifelessly, still holding on even in death. Another raptor got her in the leg, taking a chunk out of her thigh, and yet another one scratched out a deep gouge in her abdomen. She quickly dispatched the animal above her, but it left her open to even more attacks. The raptors bit and clawed, each taking its toll in blood.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  A wordless scream pierced the air. It hurt. It would be so much easier to just give up, to let her throat be ripped out and silently fade away. Another scream banished the thought. No. She would push through.

  This was nothing to a Guardian.

  A stab in the eye, all the way through the back of the skull. A kick so hard it shattered bones, throwing another reptile into the crowd waiting its turn. A vicious slash, taking a head off with ease.

  A bite took three fingers of her left hand. A claw scratched out her eye, a long vertical gouge left in its place. But for every injury, there was one more dead raptor.

  With every stab, she bled. With every stab, she killed. Even as it was getting hard to breathe and move, Mithra lost herself in the deadly dance, all her movements fueling one purpose. One thing mattered, nothing else. She had to win. To survive. To kill.

  Carcasses littered the stairs. The floor was covered in blood, every inch painted red. She didn’t know if the animals decided to cut their losses or if she killed them all, but at one point they stopped coming. Mithra didn’t celebrate. She simply picked up the bloodied leg she fought so hard over with one, mostly intact, hand. Her prize. A piece of meat.

  She decided to see the sun one more time. The roof of the building would have a much better view, and so she made the trek up, losing count of the stairs not even a third of the way up.

  There wasn’t really any pain left to feel. There was so much of it during the fight that it lost all meaning, becoming her new normal. She examined her wounds with cold detachment on the way up.

  Broken ribs? Check. Half of the thigh missing? Check, no idea how she was even walking up the stairs. One eye, three fingers, and half an ear lost? Check. More blood outside than inside? Check.

  Mithra was past caring. She knew she was bleeding internally with no way to stop it. She knew she was dying, but it felt so far away. What felt close was victory. The feeling of blood on her teeth and her sword biting into a skull. The feeling of ribs cracking under her strikes, of throwing an animal half her weight down a flight of stairs. The feeling of killing. Of being the one left standing.

  She felt even better under the unrelenting sun. Shouldn't it be night already? It didn't matter, the sun was there anyway. The precious star—flames of victory—if only she had some more time to look at it. A cruel irony, dying, when she finally saw it in its full glory. She laid down on the roof with a bloody leg in her lap.

  A small, high-pitched screech interrupted her last moments. Annoyed, Mithra looked towards it.

  She saw a giant nest with a tiny hatchling in the middle. It was barely the size of a dove, covered in gray feathers. It radiated a green, earthy smell like freshly cut grass. Eking out the last of her strength, she moved closer.

  The feathers betrayed it for a distant relative of the raptors she fought earlier, but Mithra had no animosity left in her. There were the remains of two eggs in the nest. One, probably belonging to the animal that was currently screeching, and a second one, cracked, its insides obviously eaten before it had a chance to hatch.

  "Here, you have it.” She put the leg next to the hatchling. “Not like I need it anymore, just don't eat me when I die, okay?"

  The animal immediately started pecking at the food and she curled up next to it in the giant nest, closing her eyes.

  ?

  To her surprise, Mithra woke up. She raised her left hand and stared at her five, healthy fingers. Huh. Looking past her palm at the blazing orange sphere in the sky assured her that no, it wasn't a dream.

  She could feel a small weight on her chest. The hatchling was sleeping soundly, full of raptor meat. Absent-mindedly, Mithra stroked its small head and felt the soft feathers under her fingers. Fingers that shouldn't be there.

  Without getting up, to not disturb the animal, she checked herself over.

  Ribs? Intact, didn't even hurt when she poked them. Her thigh? The hole in her pants was a reminder of the painful bite, but there was fresh, healthy skin under it. Her missing eye? She couldn't really open it, the eyelid caked with dried blood, but she was fairly sure there was an eyeball under all that gore.

  Mithra looked at the small, feathered lizard, not really knowing what to believe. Her injuries were real, she was sure of it. She hadn't dreamt a whole fight up, it was impossible. But what was also impossible was that the injuries simply weren't there. Regrowing fingers and an eye? She wasn't a Godsdamned lizard growing its tail back.

  Growing more agitated by the second, she went through everything she could remember. Did someone heal her? If yes, then who, why, and how? She’d never heard about a healing mark before, and she seriously doubted a group of Guardians would find her and then leave without a word.

  Lost in thought, her mind turned towards her second mark. It saved her once. Did it save her again? Was it even possible for it to pull her out of death's cold embrace? It must have been, no other explanation made even a lick of sense.

  She gently picked up the tiny ball of feathers from her stomach and sat up.

  Only to find herself looking straight into the metal eyes of a crouching figure.