Chapter 34: A Gift of Wings

Svenya / Maerwynn

I looked in the mirror and stared at my face…all of it.

The scar pigment had mellowed in the intervening years since my father had branded me in a fit of rage, but words still ring in my mind, "You belong to me. You are my property. Whenever you see this you will remember that. All who look at you will know." It had been meant as a warning, not just to me, but to the people beneath me. If he could do this to his own daughter, what would he do to insolence from a servant?

Around my neck dangled a golden chain, like a glittering noose, that marked me as the betrothed of Ser Helyas Manning. The sword of mercy pendant had a pinprick point at its tip and it occasionally left thin scratches against the pale skin beneath my throat. Once, at an awkward moment when I stumbled over the hem of the new dress that I was required to wear, it drew a drop of blood. Only a Templar could believe that a sword is merciful and make a holy symbol a penance to wear.

Perhaps, over time, this arrangement would slowly bleed me dry.

I caught sight of my mother watching me in the vanity's reflection. Her eyes were tired and thoughtful, neither her nor I had slept well the past nights, but at least there is a comfort in shared misery. On realizing I returned her gaze she smiled slightly, "If my memory is correct, it is your natal day. Bruna delivered you in the wee hours after a particularly difficult night with your father. You and your brother were tiny beings of perfection. If she had not been there it could have been much worse and I was so grateful that you were both whole."

"Would it not have been better if we had died in infancy, Mother, or at least me?" I asked, not angry but in earnest. Would it not have spared us all if I had not lived through the winter? Would it not have spared the men that would one day follow me through the wooded roads of the Cauldron?

"Mae," my mother breathed, her eyes shimmering with tears, "you were a blessing and balm that soothed my existence for many years under the domestic tyranny of your father. Seeing you grow, not cowering beneath his or your older brothers' heels gave me some semblance of hope. I supposed Bruna had enabled that for you, since I could not. Perhaps it is selfish that I hoped to live vicariously through the strength of my daughter. Somehow I knew that you would escape your father…or I secretly hoped you would insight the people to revolt against him. You shined in such a way that far eclipsed your brothers, and I think they sensed it too. Even your father felt threatened by you. He did not fear Fendril's brutality or Ronan's machinations, and certainly not Murchad, who he believed was weak for his sense of kindness, but he feared you. He feared a girl, his own daughter, though he could never admit it. If any could have toppled his power it would have been you."

I laughed bitterly at that, "Yes, look at me now, having tried so long to escape only to be snared again."

"He thinks that he has broken you," she observed.

"It feels like he has," I admitted, rubbing the arm that Manning had recently handled in his gauntleted fist to steer me through a doorway and to a waiting chair that we might eat with my father in the dining room. I had been forced to take dinners with them and my brothers. I could not even take pleasure in Murchad's company, who pointedly ignored me to curry favor with Father, despite the daggers shot through Ronan's eyes.

Murchad had managed to slip me a brief note, apprising me of Sellose's condition and to see if I could procure some kind of tea to ease his fever. Our departure had been delayed due to a sudden autumn storm, and it had not improved Manning's demeanor, though it had bought me some time to concoct something from some of the herbs I had carried in my pack. I had secured from Bruna's stores before leaving Herfirien and was grateful I had thought to do so since I would not be allowed liberty to gather what I needed from the surrounding woods. I had not Bruna's gift with herbs, but I had learned some things while watching at her elbow.

Later in the night, Murchad managed to call at my mother's quarters "pay his respects" and collected the mixture in a small, folded paper pouch. I had not heard if he had managed to have the tea steeped for Sellose or if my friend had improved. I could only hope and this was not a place where hope thrived.

As I sat, rubbing my arm, trying vainly to ease the bruises of my betrothed's regard, something seemed to click in my mother's eyes. She stood and made her way to the fireplace, getting on her knees before the grate as one might do when they prayed. The firelight danced and caused the gray in her locks to glitter as she inclined her head, carefully studying the masonry to the right of the grate before reaching over and carefully easing a loose stone from its place, revealing a crevice. She removed an item concealed within and replaced the stone. She beckoned me to her and patted a spot on the rug beside her and I complied, though puzzled.

When I was seated on the floor beside her, she took my hand and gently placed a small item wrapped in a plain, linen cloth in the palm and closed my fingers over it, "If I had my liberty in naming you, I would have named you Carys, for your grandmother. Your father would never allow it, because deep down he had never forgotten the curse she bestowed on him the night she died. Along with her, on her pyre, he had most of her precious belongings burned. He wanted nothing to remind him of her, but I had managed to save this single thing that she always wore on her finger and took it after she died so that it would not be destroyed. I had hoped to bestow it on you when you came of age, but I worried what your father would do if he discovered it in your possession, so I bided my time. If not now, then it would probably remain moldering behind that stone and none would see it, but it was always meant for you."

I carefully unwrapped a signet ring, not unlike the one my uncle had given to me with the mountain goat crest, but this one was tarnished having been hidden away for many years. Carefully rubbing it with the hem of the dress I was able to make out the design. It was the outline of a swan, but not the kind you would usually expect with the fowl gliding across the water, its sloping neck bowed to gaze into the depths. No, the silhouette was that of a great bird in flight, its neck stretched toward a horizon and its wings spread in the wind.

"It had been made in Amaranthine. Mother Carys had kept it since her girlhood and it always reminded her of her favorite story. The one of Svenya…" Mother explained, her hands folded demurely in her lap, but her face was alive with her memories of my grandmother, a woman I had never met.

"Bruna told me that story many times," I was shocked that Lady Carys would have known the tale.

My mother smiled, "I know. Bruna was always a great story teller and I had often listened to her while I nursed you and Murchad. It helped to pass the time and helped me to forget, even for a little while. The story of Svenya, however, was one the only story I ever told to her. I, myself, had been told the story by Carys. She told me that it was one passed down by the women of her family, perhaps as a warning of the fate that awaited a woman that is matched to a cruel husband, or perhaps to offer hope. It had been my hope to share it with you….," she shook her head a moment, as if shaking a thought away before continuing, "Anyway, Bruna always understood the import of that story. It pleased me that you should hear it and learn it."

Holding the ring between my thumb and forefinger, I gazed at it in the firelight, memorizing the shape of the swan. The creature seemed so delicate, and at the same time so strong and certain of its direction, "I had always wanted to be Svenya. I wanted to fly away and make my own destiny. I would have taken the price of being a swan if it meant freedom. Once I asked Bruna if I could find the great bird in the Fade and request such a boon, but she dissuaded me from it, explaining that such beings are not found, they find you. To go searching would make one vulnerable to other things that hunt and are not so benevolent."

"You have walked the Fade," Mother stated quietly, "Mother Carys once spoke of possessing such a gift, though she did not go into detail. Maybe that is what enabled her to withstand the long years trapped on this estate by her marriage. She said it was dangerous if you had no one to show you the way, but some things were worth the risk. I am not entirely sure how I came to the isle of the black swan when I wandered the Fade. I had never walked the Fade before and I wondered if the spirit of the great bird was actually Carys, guiding me and protecting me in some small way."

"Such things are never small," I chided and my mother smiled.

I slipped the cool metal of the ring over my knuckle of my right ring finger and found that it suited me. The ring was neither too tight nor too loose and rested comfortingly against my flesh, the swan looking poised to fly across my hand. It seemed right in a sense that the rest of my world lacked.

"I am allowed very little certainty, Mae," my mother began to whisper before her voice started to gain in pitch and strength, "but this I know: the Maker never meant for you to be trapped here. You will find a way to escape again. You may not be strong in the way that men are, but you are wise. I keep faith in that, even as your father would erase all vestiges of it from these lands and adopt the teachings of those vain Templars…"

"Hush, Mother, not so loud. The guards might hear you." I tried to calm her.

She shook her head, but lowered her tone, "Let them hear me. There is naught that they can do to me that was not done long ago. Your father will not bother with me now and does not suffer me in his presence. I am realizing that this room affords me a certain freedom that I cannot exercise if your father cared to keep me at his side."

"It feels as if we have exchanged roles, you and I," I mused sadly.

"You have taught me to be brave, my girl," she smiled again, amused, "I have learned all from you. If there is any fire left in these bones, I would spit it and scorch your father's brows, Maker forgive me. A dragon without teeth still has fire."

I thought quickly to myself, "Mother, after Manning takes us from here, do you think you might be able to find a way to escape? You could make your way to Herfirien and go to Uncle Trian."

She sobered from her sudden levity and considered my words before answering, "At this point I have outlived my usefulness to your father. Save for his pride, I doubt he would care if I left. If I stay he may find an alternate means to rid himself of me. Once you and Murchad are gone I have nothing left to lose. If I can find a way… I promise to seek your Uncle. With my jewels I might be able to bribe one of the softer guards to help me. The prices those baubles would be more than enough for a man to begin anew in another place, one might be amenable."

"Perhaps we can see if Murchad could broker a deal. He has had time to observe the guards. Perhaps he can find one sick enough of this place that would be willing to exchange his rusty armor for a richer tunic." I suggested, just as a knock sounded at the door and caused me to jump, startled.

Murchad was ushered in by a guard who remained without and closed the door behind him and we got to our feet to hastily embrace him as he spoke, "I have not long. I have been sent to inform you, Mae, the wind breathes fair enough that we will leave on the morrow so we can reach Swidden before snow comes. Your fiancé is anxious to return to his men, but there is more. Ser Sellose and the woman are to be remitted into his custody to ensure your continued cooperation."

"Why would he even consider that?" I fumed, forgetting some of my recent complacency.

Murchad hung his head slightly, looking discomfited, "I suggested it, Mae."

I have never come so close to shaking him as I was in that moment, "What demon possessed you, Murchad, that you would work such evil."

"It was not my idea," he explained, trying to calm my ire, "Ser Sellose requested that I try to arrange it with Father and Manning."

I groaned at this, "The man must be unhinged!"

"I greatly doubt that," Murchad replied, "and he seemed quite improved when I saw him not more than an hour ago. You are a wonder, Mae."

"Quite wondrous," I retorted tartly, "I indirectly caused the man to undergo torture and yet he feels the need to follow me to the Gates of the Black City, itself. Will my bastard betrothed and my aberrant parent allow the man a litter or will they have him dragged behind the horses?"

"There will be a cart for them, but he and the woman will be in shackles. There will be very little chance of escape with a party so armed with Templars. Father is hoping the journey will kill him and Manning is hoping he will survive long enough to serve penance. If I did not know better, I would wonder if the two of them have a wager." He explained this, cringing as I glowered at him, "Do not execute the messenger, Mae. I can only do so much, bound as I am."

This softened me, "I know, Mouse. You have done more than I would have thought able. There is one last kindness I would ask of you on our mother's behalf."

Murchad nodded to Mother, "Anything!"

"See if you can find a guard who might be willing to be bribed into taking her to Herfirien once we are gone from this place. She has jewels of great value and it might be enough to purchase a greedy man's conscience."

"Done," Murchad agreed quickly, "I think I know of such a man. His brother died recently when a horse was spooked and the man is very superstitious. What Father has done by banishing the Chantry has put many of the men on edge. He would willingly leave this place far behind if given enough incentive. I shall make arrangements. Now I must go before they become suspicious"

"Thank you!" I breathed.

"Happy Natal Day, Sister," my brother whispered before escaping to the door, "I wish I could offer you freedom as easily as my well wishes."

"If wishes were horses…" I muttered, but smiled anyway for the kind intent.

Mother took my hand and stood by me silently a moment before saying, "A year from now the world will be different, Mae. Perhaps there will be peace ahead."

"Peace has a price, as does everything else," I stated flatly, "I will take death if it could buy you all some measure of that liquor."

"I would not accept it at such a price," she cried, and I regretted my words for causing her distress.

"If a story can give hope, perhaps it can also give wings. Maybe Lady Carys' legacy was more than a tale and a curse. We must make our own wings now." I soothed, guiding Mother to a bed so that she could sit and take her ease.


This chapter was written in honor of KCousland's birthday. I hope your day was full of happiness and shared with those you love. You have been a wonderful friend on this journey and I doubt I would have gotten this far without your encouragement!