Helena

  She could be lying on the couch by the chimney fire, reading a book, or gossiping with her mother and aunts as they munched the freshly made biscuits Agnes had made. Or she could be in her room, resting after a long, tiring day of working around the house. She could be doing any of those less arduous endeavors. But not tonight. Tonight was to march and delve into dark woods.

  Tonight was for hunting wolves.

  It was dark, close to midnight. The trees blocked the light from the moon above, making the uneven, gloomy woodland path harder to tread. Yet Helena marched through it with her head in the clouds, barely noticing where she was stepping or going, leaving everything to instinct and her brother’s trusted back. She was thinking about a problem that had arisen early in the afternoon and which needed a quick solution before it ruined her plans, causing her to waste weeks of intrigue. She had wanted to take that trip with Edith for months and she wasn't going to let anyone ruin it for her.

  Why are you so interested now? What made you change your mind? Helena thought.

  The root of the problem had a face and name: Michael Hunter, her cousin—The Demon, as she secretly called him. She wondered why Michael suddenly wanted to go to the city and stay at her brother’s flat. Victor had moved to Blackferr months ago, and Michael had never shown any interest in staying with him or even visiting. Knowing him, she knew he was planning something. But what? Nothing compromising had slipped from her mouth that could have aroused suspicion. No one knew her plans, not even her brother… Or maybe he did.

  Helena looked at her brother, Victor Hunter, walking in front of her. Further ahead was her grandfather, Eric Hunter, guiding the group, and beside him… Where’s she? Helena searched everywhere for her aunt, Natalia Hunter, but couldn’t find her. She was marching beside Eric a moment ago.

  She heard the rustling of leaves to her right. She quickly turned and found the culprit: Natalia, or Natalie, as the family liked to call her. She was walking a couple of steps away from the group. She occasionally stopped her walk to take a glance around the area. When nothing seemed dangerous or worthy of her attention, she continued her march, hastening her pace until she reached Eric, her father, and relayed what she saw or heard. Then she left him and repeated the whole process.

  Maybe she found out and told Michael, Helena thought, staring at her aunt's back.

  Suddenly, her left foot slipped, causing her to fall backward. Fortunately, she managed to react quickly and regain her balance with the help of a tree, avoiding the humiliating fall. What the hell? I almost fell like an idiot. She stood still, catching her breath and seeing if anyone had seen anything. Her family didn’t notice. She was safe. Using the tree for support, she lifted her left foot and saw the brown thing that had tried to trip her. She used the tree trunk to wipe her boot clean, wishing she had stayed home.

  Helena raised her head and saw a canopy of leaves and branches above, blocking the view of the sky beyond, where a pale moon dangled, and close to it, a small dot shone red against the black. Some moonlight managed to seep through the leaves, though it barely lit the forest’s floor. They were still in the outer perimeter, a couple of miles away from home. It would only get darker the more they venture inside.

  She noticed her brother coming towards her. Helena looked at him, and he gave her a nod: his way of asking if she was fine. She nodded back at him.

  “You two keep with the march!” howled a voice ahead.

  She could see her aunt and grandfather standing side by side, watching them. She and her brother rushed towards them.

  They marched through the forest and night. Leaves and branches cracked in their wake. Small creatures scurried away the moment they saw them, while the larger ones stayed and watched with eyes of concern, for they all knew who they were.

  The family moved in single file, all dressed in trousers, shirts, and dark boots, as well as leather armour for protection, and swords, daggers, and spears for attack. They sported athletic and sturdy bodies, sculpted by countless hours of arduous training, and their heads were brimming with knowledge and experience of the highest quality. These were their tools when it was time to work in the forest.

  Eric guided the line. He sometimes raised a fist to halt the march, then stood quiet, eyes darting around as his breath slowed down; his figure seemed to melt with the shadows and the voiceless whisper of the trees, becoming one with the forest. When he thought everything seemed safe, he restarted the march.

  Helena walked last, behind Victor. She watched as Natalia once again separated from the group and vanished among the trees to their right. After roaming for a couple of miles, Helena saw her aunt again, standing far ahead, waiting for the group to catch up with her. She approached Eric. They talked.

  “Let’s wait here for a second,” Eric said.

  They all went quiet, eyes and ears peeled. The breeze rocked the branches above, and the owls crooned in the dark. Suddenly, a bush began to rattle at their left. They all turned and stared at it, weapons ready. Then, from within the bush, a brown hare darted and vanished into the forest. Natalia burst out laughing, and the laughter spread to Victor and Helena.

  “Hush it,” howled Eric, angry.

  Helena noticed that her grandfather seemed agitated. He had been like that since they left home. He missed Michael. And although she would never admit it, she missed him as well. He made the exploration easier. If Michael had come with them, Eric and Natalia would have entrusted everything to him. They would have marched the line at a slower pace while Michael scouted the area far ahead. No one in the family knew the forest better than him, not even the village’s poachers, who taught the family everything they knew about the forest.

  “What’s wrong?” Helena asked her aunt.

  “Ahead,” she responded. “I think I heard thumps, as if something heavy was hitting the ground.”

  “Natalia, wait here. I’ll scout ahead,” Eric said as he left.

  “What do you think it is?” Helena asked.

  Natalia watched Eric leave until he vanished. “I bet on a braskar,” she said. “You need something big and heavy to make that sound. Unless there’s a cavalry hiding in the forest.”

  “But we’re still near the manor. It's rare for them to come this close,” Helena said.

  Natalie shrugged. “We’ll see.”

  “It’s a braskar,” Victor said with confidence.

  “How’d you know?” Helena asked.

  “Michael told me.”

  “So Clover did scout the forest after all,” Natalia said, smiling. “Damn brat, I thought he was having another of his tantrums against Dad.” She lay down on the floor and placed her longsword over her lap. The weapon was huge: over two meters in length and weighing nearly nine pounds. The sword was cumbersome to use in a fight, but not for her and Eric. They were tall and strong, looking like giants among the villagers.

  “You two sit down with me. Better to be fresh if we have to face a braskar or two,” Natalia ordered.

  Victor and Helena obeyed and sat next to her.

  Helena noticed that Natalia was staring at her, with an annoying smile on her face. “What?” she asked.

  “Why’d you smell like shit?”

  Helena went red, then looked away.

  “What happened? Did you fall again like last time?” Natalia’s smile grew bigger, teeth flaring.

  “No, I did not!” Helena cried.

  “Then?”

  Helena went quiet. She was staring at some bushes away, avoiding her aunt’s annoying eyes.

  “Yeah, yeah. I can see it,” Natalia said, nodding. “You stepped on shit because you weren’t paying attention to where you were going, right?”

  Helena did not respond.

  “By the gods.” Natalia sighed. “And this is our new generation, the hope of our family. One does not know how to walk through the forest, a forest that she is supposed to know like the back of her hand, without stepping in shit or falling down like an idiot. And the other is a bloody coward who cannot live without having a rifle in his hands. Clover cares more about his guns than a woman’s touch. He should be here working with us and not lying down in the grass as if he were having a bloody picnic. Dad's too soft on him.” She glanced at Victor, who was sitting with his eyes closed. “At least we have our Victor. We can rely on him when we need him.”

  Victor nodded.

  “I only fell down twice. You don’t need to exaggerate,” Helena said, “and both times it was dark, and both times it was your fault. You surprised me when you came from behind.” She glared at Natalie. “You did it on purpose.”

  “I did it because you were distracted, my dear Jewel. As your aunt, I have to remind you of the dangers that prowl the forest.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Helena growled.

  “Bah! Fine, my dear. I thought you would stay at home or outside with Clover. What made you change your mind?”

  “I just wanted to come and help.”

  “Like last time, falling headfirst to the ground, and then crying like a child?” Natalia laughed.

  “I didn’t cry.” She muttered.

  “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, my precious Jewel.” She laughed again.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Helena went red. She hated that hideous name. She wanted to talk back but held the thought. It was a waste of time. Natalia would never stop bothering her, even if she begged her; that would only encourage her more. It was better to give up and stay quiet. She learned it from Michael.

  “I admit that I fell. I’m just dumb, I guess,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Don’t be angry, my Jewel. I once cried too, though I was younger than you are now, and I didn’t shit myself.”

  Helena looked at Natalia with a stone face, then she closed her eyes and stayed silent.

  “What’s wrong, my dear Jewel? Is the princess upset?” She asked mockingly.

  Helena began to hum a melody, ignoring her aunt's gibes.

  Natalie clicked her tongue. “That’s it? Are you giving up? Bah! You’re boring. I should've dragged Michael over here instead of you.”

  “Why didn’t you do it, then?” Helena asked.

  “I was about to, but Dad said to leave him be.” She chuckled. “Now look at him; he’s all overworked ‘cause he doesn’t know where to go. He became too used to having Clover guiding him around. I warned him that we needed him, but he’s so stubborn sometimes.”

  “He was right,” Victor said.

  “Who?” Natalia asked.

  “Michael. He was right. We don’t need to enter the forest just because we heard wolves howling.” He looked around. “I haven't heard them since we got here.”

  Natalie nodded. “Whatever they were doing, they finished it. And you’re right about the wolves, but Dad doesn’t seem to listen. So here we are.”

  “You always complain about Grandpa, but you're just like him, you know,” Helena said.

  “What do you mean? In what way am I like Dad?”

  “That you’re stubborn, and spoil Michael.”

  Natalia snorted. “You jest. Well, if by spoiling him you meant putting my feet on his hard head, I concur. If no one wants to set him straight, I will. It is my job as his aunt. Otherwise, he’ll turn mad.”

  “He’s already mad,” Helena said.

  “I know. I talked to Dad about it. Clover's obsession with his guns has turned him into a madman. We need to fix his head before the villagers notice.”

  “I don't see what the problem is that he likes guns,” Victor said.

  “You daft, lad?” Natalia said. “Haven't you seen that maniac acting around? He’s obsessed with those things.”

  “It's not that bad,” Victor said.

  “Not that bad!?” Natalia cried. “He’s always tinkering with those things in his workshop or shooting them behind the house. One time, I caught him hugging one and whispering to it as if it were a baby. I bet the fool sleeps with them, too. He's turning mad, you heard. We need to stop him.”

  Victor and Helena laughed. Natalia was right. Michael had started acting strangely since he got his new weapons months ago. He often locked himself in his workshop and spent the whole day doing maintenance on them. No one in the family was allowed to interrupt him or even step near the workshop while he was working. He argued that it was because the process was delicate and demanded his total concentration, and obviously, Natalia couldn’t pass up this golden opportunity to annoy him, so she would often make surprise visits to his workshop, banging loudly on the door and demanding that he let her in or she would tear the place down.

  “It's just a phase,” Helena said. “He’ll get bored after a while.”

  “When? It’s been three months since he got his new toys, and nothing has changed. I can't see what makes them so special. He has never behaved like this with his other rifles. I don't care what Dad says—I'm going to put a stop to this nonsense.”

  “If you make him angry, he won’t do maintenance on your weapons again,” Helena said.

  Natalia shrugged. “As if I care. I’ve been cleaning my sword way before he was born. I won’t shed a tear.”

  “He warned you, didn’t he?” Helena asked.

  “Bah! You think I’m afraid of him?”

  “Didn’t he say that he’ll go to the basement and piss on your whiskey if you ever touch his stuff? Victor asked.

  Natalia’s face darkened as her eyes began to glow, like white fireflies in the dark. “He can try, the bugger. He can try.” Her voice was low and threatening. She then rose, lugged the longsword over her shoulders, and began to clean the dirt from her trousers. “I’m going to take a look around. You two stay here and wait for Dad.”

  They nodded.

  Helena watched as Natalia slipped behind a tree and blended with the dark forest.

  “Do you think Natalie will do what she said and take away Michael’s guns? She’s been saying that for a while.” Helena asked after Natalia left.

  “Nothing will happen. You know they're just empty threats from her,” Victor said.

  Helena nodded. “She likes messing with him more than actually doing something.”

  Natalia was a handsome woman. She had her black hair cut to her shoulders, a tradition among senior women in the family; pale and fair skin that made it hard to believe it belonged to a former mercenary; blue eyes like her father’s; and a slim and toned body that sported the scars of her old job. She was single, of marriageable age, and from a wealthy family, which made her a highly sought-after lady among the men of the village and the surrounding towns. For years they had tried their luck and proposed to her, but she always rejected every single one of them. From what Helena could tell, her aunt would never settle down, not with that wicked personality of hers that had no qualms in resorting to violence when facing a problem.

  Helena looked at her brother, Victor, sitting with his legs crossed and eyes shut. He had black hair and a poorly shaved beard, one side shorter than the other. Twenty years old and he still didn’t know how to shave himself properly. Like his sister, he inherited his mother's yellow eyes and father’s height and beauty. He was the tallest in the family, while Helena was the tallest among the women. He was a silent man, never saying more than he should or what he thought, more so when he was upset. He would only grunt or mumble, and one had to guess what was wrong with him from this. But despite that, he was a reliable brother who always looked after his little sister.

  Helena remembered her late father looking at her brother's face. Over the years he was becoming more and more like him. She wondered if her brother was taller than their father had been. Her mother always said he was, but she wasn't sure. She remembered when her father used to carry her on his broad back and strolled with her through the grounds of their old home, where they would look for the highest hill they could find so that Helena could climb onto his shoulder and raise her hands high, trying to touch the sky.

  Victor took his sword out of its sheath and began to peruse it, breaking Helena’s thoughts. After checking the blade's sharpness, he proceeded with his spear.

  Helena watched him work. Victor’s eyes focused on his hands as they slid steadily over the spear’s edge. She envied his serenity; nothing in that dark forest seemed to perturb him. The forest was not a strange land for Victor and her. They had scouted the area for years, as it was close to their home and part of their domain, though that didn’t mean that it was a safe place to relax at night.

  “Why did you come?” Victor said as he laid down the spear.

  “You heard me. I want to help.”

  Victor stared at her. His face was shrouded in shadows. “Why did you come, Ale?” He asked again.

  Helena chuckled. Her brother knew her too well. “I want to gain favor with Grandpa… and Aunt, maybe.”

  “Favor?”

  “Yeah, I want to ask Grandpa if I can go to the city.”

  “You know you can always come to my flat. You don’t need permission.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why are you doing this? You think Grandpa won’t let you go?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not like that. It’s just that I… I was thinking of staying at your place for a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks, why?”

  Helena sighed and looked up. “I want to stay away from everything, the house, the village… I need time to clear my head.”

  “Did anyone bother you again?”

  “No, nothing like that.” Helena interrupted him. “I just want some time away. That’s all.”

  “… You aren’t hiding anything, are you?”

  “I am not,” she said, looking straight at him.

  “… I can talk with Grandpa and Mom. Remember, you need her permission too.”

  Helena blossomed a wide smile. “Yes, please. That would help me a lot.”

  Victor nodded and closed his eyes.

  Helena’s smile vanished. She loved him deeply, and it hurt her to deceive him, but he gave her no choice. She could not trust him with the truth—Michael could easily get it out of him. Her plans with Edith were precious to her, so she had to prevent Michael from discovering it at all costs.

  “Could you talk with Michael, too?” Helena asked softly.

  Victor opened his eyes and stared at her. She could tell that her petition had upset him.

  “Please, brother,” she said with a mellow voice.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “I heard he wants to visit the Austins’ home. I want you to stop him.”

  “Why?” His voice became grave. Helena knew she had to be careful with her words, or she could lose his favor.

  “Because I don’t trust him. I think he’s planning something. You know he has been against you working for the Austins from the very beginning.”

  “He now seems to have forgotten about it, though.”

  Helena snorted. “Don’t be deceived, brother. You know him—he never stops once he sets his mind on something. He’s like Natalie in a way.”

  “…”

  “I know it’s hard for you to talk with him… Even I have trouble getting him to listen to me, but you need to stop him.”

  Victor said nothing. He just looked away, perhaps searching for Natalia or Eric among the trees. After a while, he nodded and closed his eyes again.

  Helena smiled. She knew she could count on him to deal with Michael, though she didn’t have much hope for his success. Victor was not happy. He may not say it or even show it on his face, but years of knowing him told her that right now he was angry.

  He was the oldest of the family's new generation, an adult man with a job and home of his own, a mature and reliable person not only for his younger sister but also for the rest of the family—except for Michael. Victor became another person when he spent time with him, as though the roles had been reversed, and Michael was now the mature and reliable older brother, while Victor was the submissive younger one. Helena hated that. Even Natalia listened to Michael, though she did so because she loved the trouble he always caused.

  “You know. I dreamed about Dad,” Helena said. She wanted her brother to forget what she had asked him.

  “What did you dream of?” Victor said, opening his eyes.

  “Do you remember when he used to take us around our old home after dinner? He was so tired after working all day, but he still let us ride over his shoulders… I miss that.”

  “It was mostly you whom he took for a ride.”

  “Because you didn’t like it. You always said that you were too old for that.”

  “It wasn’t for that. It was because you’d start to cry if he carried me first. And after you got what you wanted, you never wanted to get down, so I always missed my chance.”

  Helena blushed. “I-I know,” she said quietly.

  They went silent, the sad and painful silence that always comes after recalling their father. It was hard to talk about him. Ten years had passed since he was gone, but his memory still felt fresh for both of them.

  Suddenly, a long howl was heard, coming from far away, and more followed it.

  “Heard that? I guess they haven't left,” Helena said, raising and staring at where the howls were coming from.

  Victor grunted at her words and rose, too.

  “Get ready, Dad’s coming.” Natalia’s voice sprang from their right. She was coming towards them.

  The siblings checked their things and waited for Eric.

  In the darkness ahead, they saw two white sparks dancing to the tune of crunching leaves and sticks. As they drew near, the sparks turned into eyes, and the eyes into a man. Then the light turned off, and the eyes became blue.

  Eric was a tall, sturdy man with pale skin, black hair, and a thick beard. He had an old scar on the left side of his forehead, an old war wound from when he was conscripted and forced to fight for another man. He was a person who preferred peace and tranquillity above all else. To achieve this, he left the management of the family and finances in the hands of Elsa, Helena's mother, and Agnes, her aunt. And if any problem arose that required violence, he entrusted it to his daughter, Natalia. He loved smoking, and had a little corner outside the house for it, a gazebo that he had turned into his personal space. Every afternoon, after dinner, he would run there and smoke until the sun went down.

  “Dad, what did you see? Natalia asked.

  “A braskar,” Eric said. “The beast’s facing a pack of wolves down a glade not far from here.”

  “So Clover was right,” Natalia said. “Shouldn’t we go back? Let the wolves have the beast.”

  Eric shook his head. “I was thinking the same, but it seems they have trouble taking the beast down. If we don’t stop the fight there, it could reach our fields.”

  “Well, we'd better hunt it ourselves then,” Natalia said.

  “Let’s do that. Follow me.”