The body on the ground is nothing more than a shell, a husk, and I am filled with a sense of peace. Yes, I think. Yes. This is what I want to be. An instrument of mercy, not vengeance.

He does not start guiltily, as he should, but frowns in annoyance. "Who are you?" I slip my hand through the slit of my overskirt, and my fingers close around the hard wood of the crossbow tiller. "Vengeance," I say softly.

I am a handmaiden of Death. I walk in His dark shadow and do His bidding. Serving Him is my only purpose in this life.

... while I am Death's daughter and walk in His dark shadow, surely the darkness can give way to light sometimes.

It is all we have left to us. And while it is more than I ever dared dream, it is nowhere near enough.

Perhaps that is because you mistake death for justice, and they are not the same thing at all.

He smiles then, and even though it is well past midnight, its as if the sun has just come out.