I had been thinking of something ever since Tav threw his first punch at me.
Veraque's domain was supposed to prevent the infliction of violence. And yet Tav had been able to do it. I had thought that somehow his blessing or even some other form of magic had bypassed it, but I subconsciously knew that wasn't the case.
Tav had just bluntly told me to figure it out, and I think I had.
Her face swung to the other direction, and then she turned it back at me, rage all over her face as she seethed at me. "How the hell did you hit me!"
I looked at my fist and the damage I had inflicted. Her face was barely injured, and my fist hurt like hell. But I had hit her. Even in Veraque's domain.
The other scouts were stunned with shock as they stalled to proceed. Five of them, spaced in a loose half-circle about ten feet behind the bald woman. Two hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. Another took a half-step forward, then froze.
"Stand down," the bald woman snapped at them over her shoulder, not taking her eyes off me. "This one's mine."
Something passed between them—silent communication born from working together. The tension in the air shifted. No longer were they just shocked; now there was calculation in their eyes. They began to spread out wider, creating distance between each other. Preparing.
Because of two things.
One. I wasn't supposed to be able to attack them while in Veraque's domain.
And two, I wasn't even supposed to have the motivation to fight.
They had seen it on that rainy evening, when my pride had been taken away from me. When I was too weak to do anything but run away and try to kill myself. The memory of rain on my face mingled with the sweat now dripping into my eyes.
I had been offered two paths. Submission to Domitia, or a slow descent to madness. That was the only option offered to people who had their pride forcibly taken away.
Until Tav had shown me another way out.
Tav could still inflict violence, because he didn't view it as violence. He viewed it as a way to correct, to change me. The realization landed hard, like one of his punches to my gut.
The Mandate must somehow be able to tell when someone wants to inflict pain onto someone else. That was why the Flayers couldn't attack us once Veraque was there. Because they wanted to inflict pain before they ate us.
But Tav didn't want to beat me up. He wanted to change me. Maybe because that was the only way he knew how, or that he thought that was the most effective path.
That's why I was able to attack the scouts now. Not because I wanted to inflict damage or pain. Hell, I doubt I could even if I wanted to. No. It was so I could distract them. Buy time for Tav to come back.
If somehow he doesn't get killed by the Flayers, a voice inside me whispered.
I pushed the thought away and focused on the task at hand, my eyes darting between the scouts, their positions, the distance back to our group.
They didn't know how to deal with me. A single man, walking toward them like a half-dead shadow, fists clenched even though they obviously couldn't inflict actual damage. The tallest scout's hand hovered near his weapon, uncertain. It must've looked absurd to them all.
After a beat, the woman I had punched lunged back at me, twisting her arm—not to hit me, just to touch.
Because she thought that was all she needed.
Her hand connected with my skin, and her face momentarily warped into something resembling grim satisfaction and relief. But I didn't let her savor it.
I'd hate to hit a woman, but it was necessary here.
I grabbed her by the shoulders, my fingers digging into the fabric of her uniform, and forced my forehead unto hers. The collision made a dull thud that seemed to echo across the plain. Pain exploded behind my eyes.
The other scouts backed away, their boots scuffing the dirt as they retreated. Not just surprised now—they looked at me like I had a contagious disease.
The headbutt sent waves of pain through my skull, and my vision danced with black spots I had come to be familiar with over the years. But I didn't back down. Couldn't back down.
The Humility scout fell to the floor, not totally in pain, but more like she was in shock. In utter disbelief. Her hands splayed on the ground, dirt collecting under her fingernails as she stared up at me.
That's it. I had bought enough time. The faint thuds of hooves reached my ears, growing louder with each passing second. The rustling in the trees a couple paces behind me grew more pronounced. I had bought enough time. Tav was back.
"You!" She glared as spittle formed on her lips, a crazed delusion written all over her face, oblivious to the approaching sounds of salvation. "You shouldn't even be able to fight! Since you left the Humility domain, you should be nothing more than a shriveling ball of zero self-worth and dignity. So why?... How?..."
I shot her a sad smile. "Because I'm not fighting because of my pride anymore."
The words hung in the air for only a heartbeat before the ground trembled with approaching hooves.
Tav burst from the tree line, hunched low over the moose's neck as the massive animal charged across the open ground. The beast's muscles rippled beneath its hide, each powerful stride eating up the distance between us. The moose's eyes were wide with terror, foam flecking its muzzle as Tav pushed it to its limit.
And behind him—
Not one Flayer, not two, but five of the pitch-black lizards poured from the forest in pursuit. Their tongues lashed the air as they ran, bodies undulating with unnatural speed. Sunlight gleamed off their obsidian scales as they moved like living shadows across the plain. They were faster than I remembered, closing the distance between themselves and Tav with each bound, claws tearing divots from the earth.
"Got you, brother," Tav grunted as he reached me, leaning dangerously from the saddle to grip my arm. With a single powerful motion, he swung me onto the moose's back behind him.
My shoulder—the same one I had fractured during those first terrible days—screamed in protest. White-hot pain lanced down my arm. "Take it easy, or you're going to dislocate my fucking shoulder. Again!"
"And I'll heal it," Tav said, a smirk sliding into his lips even though exhaustion had carved deep lines around his eyes. Sweat plastered the little hair he had grown in his time away from the Humility domain to his forehead. "Again."
The scouts stood frozen, stupefied by the chaos unfolding before them, too confused to do anything else.
How could they not be? A weak man who had been publicly humiliated and stripped of his dignity last week had somehow fought back against them—something that shouldn't have been possible—and now a man on a moose had shown up, and behind him...
"It can't be. A Flayer?" One of the scouts muttered, horror creeping into his voice as his face drained of color. His companions' weapons clattered to the ground as they stared at the approaching monsters.
"Veraque!" I shouted over the thundering hooves and hissing Flayers. "Get ready!"
She nodded reluctantly, her face tight with concentration as she raised her arms. The air around us seemed to waver as she receded the domain of the mandate, reducing the radius to only the spot where the main camp stood. The refugees huddled closer together, eyes fixed on the approaching danger.
"Tav, hurry!" Kuti cried out, her voice cracking with fear.
He was fifty paces away now, the nearest Flayer just ten paces behind him. I could see the strain on his face, the desperate determination as he drove the moose forward. Blood trickled from where his heels had dug into the animal's flanks. The Flayer's tongue flicked out, tasting the air inches from the moose's hindquarters.
"Now, Veraque!" I yelled as Tav closed the final distance.
Tav crossed the invisible boundary just as the lead Flayer's tongue shot out, missing his back by inches. The moose staggered to a halt within our circle, sides heaving like bellows, as Tav and I slid from its back. He collapsed to his knees, chest heaving, hands trembling with exhaustion.
"You made it," Kuti whispered, faint tears glistening in her eyes as she helped him to his feet. Her fingers lingered on his arm, as if needing to confirm he was real.
He gave her a grim smile. "Barely."
"It's still far from over," I said as one of the Flayers that had chased Tav changed direction, its hungry eyes fixing on me. It lowered its body, muscles coiling like springs before it launched itself toward me.
I held my breath and closed my eyes, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I knew for certain that Veraque's Holy Mandate of Zero Violence would work.
I felt its hot, steamy breath wash over my face, full of the scent of iron and blood. The sound of its ravenous hissing filled my ears as its claws shot toward me. But I felt nothing.
I opened my eyes. Its claws hovered inches away from my face, suspended in the air as if caught in invisible amber. The Flayer's eyes burned with frustrated hunger as it strained against an unseen barrier. It couldn't bring its claws any closer. Because the domain had been established.
It wanted to hurt me, but violence could not happen in the Zero Violence Zone, just as it had been in the forest.