The Boneless Mercies

I wanted to change my fate, to force it down another road. I wanted to stand in the river of time and make it flow a different direction, if just for a little while.

They called us the Mercies, or sometimes the Boneless Mercies. They said we were shadows, ghosts, and if you touched our skin, we dissolved into smoke.

Nothing is written in the stars, our journey is our own.

Warriors are loud, and Mercies are quiet. There is strength in silence.

Once upon a time, in the final days before Salt and Marsh Witch War, four Boneless Mercies turned their backs on the death trade, and went west, seeking immortality.

Pain is a part of life. Pain is a sign of life. The dead feel nothing.

Juniper began a death prayer. It was a familiar invocation, asking the sea to bring the peace of deepest sleep, and the wind to whisper the girl's name in its travels.

Juniper said the gods like to humble people who dream big dreams. But the gods had never done much for me, and I wasn't afraid of them.

I was a Mercy-girl with no family, no home, no fortune, and yet my blood sang a song of glory.

To all those who seek glory

I am Frey, former Boneless Mercy, ally of the Sea Witches, failed slayer of the Cut-Queen, mourner of Runa the Archer, companion to Trigve, friend to Jarl Roth. I defeated the giant Logafell. I am woman, wanderer, warrior. This is not the end of my story.