Page 127 of The Daughter of the Scarred Elf

And it would be all her fault.

All because Kolfinnaexisted.

All because Rakel had captured her here, and Kolfinna had failed to escape.

Tears stung her eyes. Ragnarök would win.

Just as her body seemed unable to hold a coherent thought, unable to inhale any more air other than tiny gasps, a thought emerged from the blurriness.Never yield.

It was something unexcepted that Katla had told her one morning while they were doing laundry for Lord Estur and his estate. Katla was never one to talk like that, but she had said it.

“Never yield, Kolfinna.”

That single thought caused a ripple of mana to course through her in seconds. A burst of shadows ripped out from Kolfinna’s hands and chest. They shoved their way through Rakel’s shadows and pushed the elf woman backward. Kolfinna gasped in breaths of air and the inky shadows shot at Rakel with the remaining bits of mana she had. The surge of power made her feel like she had a chance—like she could fight against Rakel—but that flicker of hope dimmed when light flashed in Rakel’s hand and beams of it cut through the shadows.

Then, before Rakel could completely push the swathes and waves of Kolfinna’s shadows, Kolfinna turned on her heel and sprinted out of the tent.

She pushed back the flaps of the backroom and ran. Her heart raced and she didn’t dare look over her shoulders at the elf woman. The shadows poured out of her body and lashed out behind her like they had a mind of their own. She jumped over bedrolls with patients in them and bolted out of the tent.

Rakel shouted something behind her, but Kolfinna was already gone.

She shoved her way through the battlefield, the wind yanking her hair, the shadows whipping around her violently.

Kolfinna kept running, through the thicket of soldiers fighting, and it wasn’t until she stumbled into a clearing with ice everywhere, that she realized she had been running toward the icy coldness—toward Blár.

Relief pooled over her chest immediately when she caught sight of Blár—his wicked blue eyes, the winter clinging to his tall frame, and his familiar face—but that relief was crushed in seconds.

Because Blár was on his knees, and the half-elf was in front of him, with his wings spread out like an ominous being. And when he tilted his head to the side, Kolfinna met his gaze.

Cold, red, evil eyes stared back at her.

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She saw,out of the corner of her eye, Blár struggling to stand. Blood drenched the front of his uniform, and his skin was bloodlessly pale. His eyes widened at Kolfinna and he raised his hand as if to stop her. “No,” he said, “run.”

The half-elf stared at her, and Kolfinna stared back, unable to move. Unable to do anything.

Rows and rows of goose bumps rose across her flesh like a wildfire. Whatever strength and determination she had felt seconds ago dissolved at the sight of the half-elf commander—at the mere presence of him this close.

All of her senses told her to run. To listen to Blár and leave as fast as she could.

But she was rooted in place, and she could never abandon him.

The half-elf broke eye contact from her and spoke to Blár in a smooth, velvety voice. “It’s a shame, really. You were close. I’ll give you that, human. You have so much mana that I almost couldn’t hold your magic back.Almost.” He knelled down until he was at eye level with Blár. “You will make for a great mana slave.”

But Blár wasn’t focusing on him. He had his attention set on Kolfinna.

“Run!” Blár coughed and fell down on his hands.

Kolfinna’s stomach dropped. She couldn’t leave without Blár. She didn’t want to run away, even as her mind screamed at her to do just that. Running was the logical answer—at this point, the half-elf probably didn’t even know who she was. She could somehow make it out?—

But she didn’t want to leave Blár.

She couldn’t.

“Kolfinna!” She turned in time to see Sijur a few feet away, blood staining half of his face. A shadowy wisp of black magic had snaked up his leg and was holding him in. It was probably the only thing keeping him from running—and knowing Sijur, he would’ve run as soon as he could. “You don’t stand a chance?—”

Something rippled in the air, and it took Kolfinna a second to realize it was the heavy, cloying mana that exuded from the man. It seemed to flare, and Kolfinna could only watch with mute horror as the half-elf tilted his head to Sijur, then to Blár, and then finally to Kolfinna.

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