Hello, readers! My goodness, it's been so long since I posted and I am terribly sorry for the delays. The second wave of Covid hit pretty hard over here during winter and work has been a nerve-racking roller-coaster ever since. But the arrival of spring and summer woke up my muse quite a bit! So here are two new chapters, with long-awaited answers at last! Two more chapters will soon follow within the week once I'm done polishing them a bit! Hope you enjoy the read! :)
Oh and once again, special thanks to you all, readers old and new, for sticking around! Inbid, Arya169, Cyndisis, Kioskfeak...and hello Nasia! Thanks for leaving a comment!
xoxox
Chapter 23 – The Fire Maiden
She felt like crap.
Like the sky had just crashed onto her head.
The last time she had felt like this was when she had woken up after the storm, washed up on the beach of Dim-Dim's cursed isle, secluded and isolated in the middle of nowhere. The unforgiving waves had spat her out of the sea like some unwanted fish and she had laid cooking in the sun for an hour until Dim-Dim had finally found her, dazed and confused.
She felt like that now, aching at every joint, her limbs sore and heavy, as if she'd spent the entire night fighting the raging waters of the ocean all over again.
She opened her eyes with effort, her eyelids warm and heavy with sleep, struggling to blink herself awake as the thick darkness that welcomed her made it difficult to think properly, as if the night kept trying to pull her back into its somber embrace. Her vision was blurry and out of focus, but she could still make out the rotten canopy of black leaves above her head.
The Blind Mountains.
An army of Skinwalkers…
A storm of fire…
Her memories slowly fell back into place and she tried to move, but she was only able to turn her head to the side a little before a stabbing pain throbbed in her temples and forced her to shut her eyes at once, a wave of nausea washing over her. She cautioned herself not to move and to breathe deeply, while her ears picked up on voices nearby, hushed whispers that sounded like people were arguing.
She blinked again, attempting to turn her head to the side once more, this time catching sight of distant figures in the darkness, discussing agitatedly over the dancing flames of a campfire.
"You have to tell her," Leisa stated lowly.
"No," Robin replied sternly. "She doesn't need to deal with this right now and we have enough on our plates as it is. We need to focus on the trek and on staying alive."
"She has the right to know the truth, Robin," Coop said carefully, as if threading on a thin line.
"Of course she does, but I don't think she's ready to-"
"She may never be ready," Mark interrupted somberly. "Now is as good a time as any."
"Mark is right," Leo agreed. "Besides, at this point it's only a matter of time before someone lets it slip anyway, after what she did…"
Maeve tried to strain her ears to hear them better, to make sense of their words, but it all echoed in her head with empty coherence. She had no idea what they were talking about, but after the gruesome battle they had just suffered from, she was relieved to know they were alive.
An ocean of Skinwalkers…A storm of fire…
Her memories were all jumbled up like puddles of mud. Whatever magic she had miraculously unleashed had managed to save them, but what about all the other people in the convoy?
She tried to blink herself awake again, attempting to shake off the hefty shroud of sleep, but the oppressing darkness of the wicked forest was proving a mighty opponent to beat, even with the dim glow of the small campfire crackling beside her.
She tried to sit up, judging that was the best way to properly wake herself up, but she regretted it immediately as the pain in her head clapped like thunder and slithered down her neck like a snake. She brought a hand up to her temple, attempting to massage the unpleasant pain with her fingers, when she felt a warm hand touching her arm gently, helping her to sit up.
"Easy, easy." Robin was kneeling before her with quiet worry. "Take it slow."
Maeve grimaced in pain and groaned, waiting a few seconds for the ache to fade a little before attempting to speak. "How long was I out?" Her voice was hoarse and parched, as if she had swallowed smoke.
"A couple of hours," he replied, his face creased with deep lines of concern. "How are you feeling?"
"Like the sky just fell down over my head," she answered grumpily, swallowing hard to ease the dryness in her throat while encasing her temples between her thumb and middle finger.
"Here." Robin handed her a skin of water, his hand remaining close to her elbow with a light touch as if he was afraid she would pass out all over again.
Maeve took a few sips of the fresh liquid, welcoming its coolness and hoping it would help chase away the remnants of sleep that were still clinging to her bones like shackles.
When she handed the skin back to Robin, she noticed the bandages wrapped around her right wrist where a Skinwalker had brutally bit her during the attack, remembering how much she had bled and feared she might never use her sword hand again. But now she found that she could still move her fingers with ease, stretching them and curling them into a fist, her mobility still intact.
"Lobelia stitched you up," Robin explained, "and Leisa added the touch of her Sleyan as well. You should heal quickly."
Maeve massaged her wrist gently, the wound beneath a little sore but no way near as painful as she remembered. "I'll make sure to thank them."
He hummed with a small nod and fell quiet after that, his small blue eyes averting to the ground, haunted and hesitant, like he was casting about for the right words to say but could not find them.
In her mind, memories of the horrible fight swam to the surface like a blight, a nightmare she did not want to remember, and a lump formed in her throat. "How many?"
It took him a moment to look up at her, and when he did it was only briefly as his gaze quickly fled to the darkness of the foul trees. "Fifty-six."
The number stole her breath away, another bout of nausea washing over her like a wave. So many…even after her desperate attempt to conjure up such formidable magic to destroy the terrible beasts, even after everything she had burned...the storm of fire she had never known was buried within her core…
But it had not been enough.
"They died before what you did," he specified softly, as if reading her conflicted thoughts and trying to put a balm on the guilt and regret that were seeping into her flesh.
"And the children?" she swallowed hard, unsure if she was ready for another heart-wrenching number.
"They're all fine," he assured her, which was a mighty comfort to hear despite everything else.
"And the wounded?" she pressed again, as if fishing for more heartbreak.
"Everyone is wounded," he answered plainly, his eyes finally locking with hers, gentle and sad in the golden firelight, and yet his features were painted with shadows of another nature, demons of duty and guilt that lurked inside his head and that she wished she could chase away. But he quickly straightened himself up. "That was quite a powerful display of magic you did back there. You saved us all."
She lowered her head at that, suddenly feeling undeserving of the pride and gratefulness that shone in the depth of his eyes for an outburst of magic that was far from customary in terms of her abilities. She could rarely conjure up such forceful magic, let alone barely control it, and whatever feat she had managed to pull tonight was only an isolated anomaly, nothing more. "I only did that out of sheer desperation. I'm not usually that powerful, as demonstrated by me gloriously fainting afterwards…"
Robin's eyes remained locked on her as she spoke, as if trying to decipher her like some ancient manuscript to understand where her lack of trust in her abilities stemmed from. For a moment she thought he would argue with her, to point out that whatever magic she had managed to conjure she had done so under severe lack of sleep and food, which could very well explain the magnitude of her exhaustion and not her lack of abilities as she seemed to believe, but he said nothing, choosing instead to watch her with gentle sorrow.
She avoided his scrutinizing gaze uneasily, shoving her lack of confidence in her magic back into the depth of her heart where she kept all her other insecurities, and then her eyes fell on the bandages around his arm above his elbow, and before she could catch herself her fingers went to touch it. "Are you alright?"
He tensed momentarily as she reached for him, more out of awkwardness than pain since they rarely touched deliberately like this, only crossing that line when in the midst of battle while their survival instincts fueled their actions. She sensed his discomfort at once but he was quick to give her a small reassuring smile, opening his mouth to speak but then Simon, Leisa, Coop, Leo and Mark invaded their space to join them around the campfire.
Maeve removed her fingers from Robin's arm at once, and quickly noticed the curious looks of expectancy stamped on everyone's faces.
"Have you told her?" Leo asked hopefully, his gleaming brown eyes jumping between her and Robin.
Maeve frowned at his question and sought Robin's gaze for an answer, but to her surprise, he merely looked down at the ground sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Told me what?" she asked, unsure what was going on as she glanced at the odd expressions all around her.
No one spoke for a moment, the campfire hissing and popping between them while a lot of furtive looks were exchanged in a silent conversation that Maeve was unable to grasp, until Robin finally let out a defeated sigh.
He shifted his position to sit on a log by the fire, then rested his forearms on his knees as if readying himself for a difficult conversation and drawing strength from the smoldering flames before him.
"There's a prophecy that speaks of you," he spoke quietly, his voice measured and calm while his raptor eyes latched onto hers with all the seriousness in the world.
The air around the campfire seemed to shift then, like the winds abruptly turning on the high seas to warn the arrival of a storm.
"Prophecy?" she echoed, a simple word that immediately triggered cold shivers down her spine as she blinked at him in the firelight. "What prophecy?"
"It's complicated…" he replied, almost hesitating to continue, but swiftly steeling himself to go on. "Have you ever heard of the Fire Maiden?"
Maeve's frown deepened at the unfamiliar appellation, her eyes narrowing at him as she sensed everyone was holding their breath around her. "No…" her voiced trailed off as she searched his blue eyes with rising puzzlement. "I don't-"
"It's you!" Leo blurted out, as if unable to contain his excitement any longer while Leisa's slap on his arm was too late to shut him up.
Maeve's attention shifted to the lively soldier, while Robin shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose miserably, as if whatever structure he had previously built for this discussion was already crumbling down.
He tried to speak again, but Leo beat him to the punch.
The young lad, his face alight with a strange passion, sat down across the campfire, facing her above the flames, and before anyone could even stop him he proceeded to recite the so-called prophecy he knew by heart like a precious prayer, every word bright and clear in the darkness of the woods and bearing formidable weight like some ancient spell.
"The coasts will be set ablaze by three
The Mountains will bleed and burn
Beware the Fire Maiden's return
The white hills shall turn to ash
Fire and steel meeting to clash
The Beast awaken, to lose or win
A price for a gift, a life for a sin"
When he was done with his solemn narration, silence fell over their little group like a thick shroud of smoke, with the flames twisting and coiling at their feet like hissing snakes, and Maeve felt her lungs painfully clamp shut, the air locking inside her chest as she slightly rocked back in her seat, as if Leo's words had punched into her one by one like tiny fists.
The Fire Maiden…mountains burning…the Beast awaken…
The words rang in her head like warning bells promising damnation to her very soul, ominous words that she had heard before, falling from Dim-Dim's lips before he had sent her away on a mission at the end of the world to protect his friend, because of a prophecy…
Her heart quietly began to trash in her ribcage as she glanced at Robin, confusion ripping into her like claws and suddenly filling her with the urgent need to bolt and run away as far as she could before she was trapped.
"What the hell is going on?" she demanded with a sharp tone, sternly warning him that the time for games and glossing over the truth was over. She wanted the truth. And she wanted it now.
Robin held the weight of her anguished gaze almost in pain as he shifted on his seat anxiously, his entire body going rigid like a soldier on a battlefield.
When he finally spoke, he sounded as if he was choosing his word very carefully, picking them up one by one like shards of glass. "Do you remember when I told you Kalladrell is led by a council of wizards stationed in Erindale?"
Maeve frowned, unsure where he was headed with such a question, but allowed him to continue with a quick nod.
"About three thousand years ago, that council was presided over by a woman, the leader of our land, gifted with formidable magical powers that could tear through entire armies, fire magic that was passed down from mother to daughter for hundreds of years," he explained cautiously, eyeing her the whole time. "Generations of women presided over the Central Council, each of them in turn assuming the role of our leader, our protector…our queen." He paused then, marking his words. "They were the Fire Maidens."
The curious appellation echoed gloomily in her ears once more, mingling with the storming confusion inside her mind as she shook her head in an attempt to dispel the disturbing label of queen. "What does that have anything to do with me?"
"It's you! You're the last Fire Maiden!" Leo repeated across the dancing flames, fervently quoting the prophecy he'd just recited. "The Mountains burned tonight, marking your return!"
Mark stepped closer to the campfire then, informally bumping his knee against Leo's back as a warning for the soldier to tone his excitement down lest she bolted away like a frightened animal.
Robin pinched the bridge of his nose again, sighing heavily, but when he opened his mouth to try and salvage wherever the discussion was heading, Maeve was already shaking her head in protest once more.
"I can't return to a place I've never been before. Whoever these women were, I have no connection to them. I am not your queen," she hurriedly stated, yet her growing distress was not enough to deter Leo, even despite Mark's warning.
"But your magic burned all the-"
"A lot of sorceresses can conjure fire, it doesn't mean-"
"Not all of them have red hair and go by the name of Kalleeryen," Robin declared solemnly, interrupting their exchange in the firelight with a veil of regret painted on his face.
His words rooted her in place like a nail, and as she held his tormented gaze in a wordless exchange, her mind latched on to the mystery he was solving at last, an answer to the question that had haunted her since her arrival to Kalladrell.
"My hair," she scoffed at him, a soundless laugh almost escaping her lips as the entire conversation suddenly felt like a very bad joke.
Only it was not.
"It's the mark of the Fire Maiden. That's why everyone looked at you with such wonder and reverence in Southampton," Robin explained almost begrudgingly, enduring the heaviness of her stare as it soured in quiet accusation for everything he had kept from her since they had met.
No one had red hair on the island, he had said, and those who did were very important. That's all he had told her, nothing more, nothing less, and he had stubbornly refused to reveal anything else until they reached Denwood safe and sound.
But it was too late for that now.
Now all the answers he had so carefully guarded were spilling at his feet like water through his fingers, with the color of her hair at the root of some ancient prophecy about an ancient woman…
"This is crazy…" she breathed, shaking her head before standing up abruptly, restless to move and escape all the eyes pinning her down while dark clouds of confusion collided in her head like a formidable tempest. "Whoever you think I am, I am not this woman you speak of! Who were these women anyway? Where did they even come from? No, you know what, I don't want to know. This is insane!"
She paced like a caged animal searching for a way out of a nasty trap, but there was no where to run, the Blind Mountains leering at her from all sides with its blinding darkness, except for the rest of the convoy camped in a small clearing a few yards away, with feeble fires dotting the rotten ground. She could always head there, but Robin was already standing up behind her, desperate to salvage this disastrous discussion with a pleading voice.
"Please, let us explain-"
"There's nothing to explain!" Maeve whirled around to face him, her grip on her composure slowly melting away as nothing seemed to make sense in her head anymore. "You think I'm some woman from a prophecy because I have red hair! That's ridiculous! A lot of women have red hair outside of Kalladrell. The one you seek must still be out there. It's not me."
"You're a Kalleeryen," he stated calmy, eyes softening in the firelight as he took a careful step towards her, as if he wanted nothing more than to protect and shield her from all this mess, yet unable to ignore the truth that was standing right before him. "Your ancestors lived here."
"My ancestors are from the North, a thousand miles away from here," she replied sternly, clinging to resistance and stubbornness as she struggled to remain still and composed.
"I know, but they came from here first," he emphasised again, his voice carefully level, as if hoping to soothe her anguish and confusion as best as he could.
Before she could counter his argument though, Simon shifted on his feet by the campfire. "Robin is right," he began tentatively, proceeding to offer her more substantial evidence in an attempt to convince her. "Three thousand years ago, the last Fire Maiden was captured by Djin Lords during the Dark Wars. No one really knows why they took her, but the legend says that she had a daughter, a baby girl the Djin Lords didn't know about, and to protect the child from their evil hands, the wizards of the Central Council sent the babe into hiding." He paused to make his point. "In the North."
At this new piece of information, she could do nothing but stare helplessly at the blond soldier, her mind whirling like a sparrow tossed around in the sky by a gust of wind. But still, she shook her head in resistance and gritted her teeth. "That was three thousand years ago," she protested again. "Perhaps I'm related to that woman in some way but certainly not a direct descendant. I'm not-"
"The prophecy speaks the truth," Leisa suddenly spoke for the first time, her face an expressionless stony mask as she stood by the fire with the others, her spine straight as steel. While Robin and Simon had tried their best to sugar-coat the discussion for her sake, the Radakeel now looked forcefully determined to settle the matter once and for all, tossing all the facts at her feet like rocks. "You are the Fire Maiden. You have the hair, the name, the magic. Even the timing of your return to Kalladrell points towards you. King Zankar and his Blood Raiders will soon bring war to our kingdom and if he's as powerful as the rumors say, then the Fire Maiden is our only chance to defeat him and his army. That's why the fates brought you back to your homeland. To protect your people."
Robin closed his eyes briefly, muttering a quiet curse at Leisa's lack of tact while the others all held their breath in apprehension and Maeve openly stared at the warrior woman, her dry words echoing in the air like nails hammered into a coffin to seal it shut.
She felt her blood run cold in her veins, with the ground quaking beneath her as if the Wikken Hells were ready to swallow her whole and imprison her in this prophecy like a slave in shackles. A wave of nausea washed over her, twisting her stomach into knots while anguish slowly engulfed her and her grip on her composure threatened to break for good.
She knew the others were watching her worriedly in the choking silence of the campfire, awaiting her reaction to these ludicrous scraps of evidence, but words simply stuck in her mind like flies in a spider web.
She felt lost at sea all over again, casting about in a storm-tossed ocean for something to hold on to, a rope, a piece of driftwood, anything to stay afloat and not drown.
This was all wrong. It couldn't possibly be true.
The Fire Maiden…hills turning to ash…the Beast awaken…
She had heard those things before, fragments of a prophecy Dim-Dim had hastily mentioned to her before catapulting her far away on a quest to protect his friend. She couldn't recall him reciting any official verses, but some of the things he had said definitely mirrored what Leo had proclaimed moments ago, her mentor's exact words hidden somewhere inside the turmoil of her mind like some ancient spell smudged on a parchment with the ink fading away.
Something about three coasts that would be set ablaze…hills that would burn…a Belrok that would be unleashed…The glaring similarities were enough for her headache to return with a formidable vengeance in her temples.
What the fuck was going on?
Had Dim-Dim known about the other part of this prophecy? Had he known about this ancient woman she was supposedly connected to?
Was this the real reason he had ripped her away from the crew?
She felt the blood drain from her face at that terrible realization, her knees nearly buckling under the sheer weight of that cruel possibility.
It made her feel faint all over again, vertigo crashing on her, but she quickly curled her fingers into hard fists at her sides, afraid the others would see her hands shaking.
They were all looking at her with hopeful gazes, raw and poignant, and the sight of it was enough for a wave of anguish to soak into her bones and a spark of rage to flare beneath her flesh.
"You're all mad…" she murmured with a shake of her head, taking a step back as if to escape the look in their eyes, suddenly feeling as vulnerable and exposed as a lamb.
No one dared to speak, letting the flames hiss and pop in the palpable tension, while Robin looked like his shield was about to shatter completely, his shoulders sagging in regret and shame, and his hands twitching at his sides as if he was battling the urge to reach out to her and beg for forgiveness, anything to dispel her apparent distress.
He opened his mouth to speak at last, but Simon beat him to it. "You have to admit it's hard to ignore all the signs…" the blond captain pointed out hesitantly, rubbing at his forehead and avoiding her gaze.
"Coincidences," Maeve corrected him firmly, biting into the word with insistence.
"There's a fine line between coincidence and fate…" Mark reflected openly as he leaned a bulky shoulder on the tortuous trunk of a tree by the fire, crossing his arms over his chest.
But Maeve merely shook her head in wordless frustration and resumed her aimless pacing, desperate to keep her fragile composure in place and to prevent her thoughts from flying in every direction all at once like bees in a hive.
But nothing made sense and try as she might, she couldn't focus on anything for more than a few seconds, her attention painfully jumping from one ridiculous matter to the next, not to mention the substantial exhaustion that was clawing at her limbs and reminding her that she had yet to catch up on sleep and that she had not eaten a proper meal in almost forty-eight hours. Plus the nasty headache that kept pounding louder and louder in her ears like a giant battle drum. She was nearing the end of her wits.
Perhaps she was still sleeping, she thought helplessly. Perhaps this was nothing more than a wicked dream woven by her exhausted mind. Perhaps-
"What hair color did your mother have?" Coop asked out of the blue, his foreign accent yanking her out of her thoughts as he stood by the campfire with his brow furrowed in contemplation. "The Fire Maidens were all marked by red hair so if your mother had them too, then it might corroborate our beliefs that you are who we think you are."
Maeve stopped pacing momentarily at his question, catching the flicker of hope that sparked in his companions' eyes as they all glanced at her eagerly for an answer.
Cornered, she looked away and pulled her lower lips over her teeth, considering lying, but she knew her delayed reaction had already betrayed the truth. "She was a redhead," she admitted begrudgingly, bristling with anger.
"And she was a Kalleeryen," Robin added gently, his resonant voice drifting in the air to breathe another truth to the prophecy. "Only your mother could have passed on that name to you, because it belongs to the Fire Maidens."
"Well, if she knew what it meant then why didn't she tell me anything?" Maeve snapped at him, but the minute the words left her mouth she regretted them instantly, clamping her lips shut.
Her mother had died many years ago during the raid conducted by Turok and Rumina in her village, perishing under the blades of skeleton warriors along with her father. Perhaps she had always meant to inform her daughter about their particular ancestry, but death had claimed her too soon...
"Maybe she didn't know," Robin offered the other alternative compassionately, trying to catch her eye in the darkness but Maeve stubbornly refused to look at him, a quiet storm of rage and frustration brewing in her blood, threatening to boil and burn.
"Do you believe us now?" Leo asked tentatively, his young brown eyes shining with honesty and hope as he rose from his seat by the campfire.
Maeve closed her eyes briefly, struggling to keep her temper in check as they waited for her answer. But she had no idea what to say, no idea what to do, and absolutely no idea how to deal with this mess of a situation. She was lost and she was blind, walking on a road she didn't know, on an island at the other end of the world, cut off from everything and everyone she had ever known, with a prophecy slowly coiling around her neck like a hangman's noose.
She was trapped.
Dim-Dim be damned…
But she hadn't said her last words.
"If, and I mean if, I am this woman you speak of," she began inflexibly, giving them a glimmer of opening yet glaring at everyone pointedly as she bit into every word for clear emphasis. "What do you expect me to do exactly? Preside over your council, fight your war, wave my hand and make all your problems disappear?"
She glowered at them sharply, with fire in her eyes and venom seeping into her voice, bitter and angry, but before she could finish blurting out all the weak spots in their delusions, Robin raised a hand in a pacifying gesture. "We're not expecting anything from you," he murmured calmly, clearly omitting the word 'yet' as he went on with as much diplomacy as he could. "You needed to know the truth and-"
"Well, congratulations, now I know," she snarled acidly, accusation returning to her gaze.
Robin bore the weight of it fully, pained and defeated, allowing her silent anger to chip at his armour, before he turned to his companions at last. "We can continue this conversation another time," he declared wearily. "Right now, our main concern is to get out of the Blind Mountains, alive, which means we should try to make the most of the rest of the night to get some sleep."
For a moment no one moved, everyone exchanging loaded glances as if reluctant to abort the discussion of such an important matter, but soon enough they all dipped their heads in understanding and respect, turning on their heels to return to the rest of the convoy that was camped in the clearing a few yards away.
Everyone except Leisa, who took a step towards Maeve instead, her chin raised high with pride.
"The Radakeels are the personal guards of the Fire Maiden, sworn by an oath to protect her no matter what," she declared solemnly. "Your ancestor may have been forced into hiding thousands of years ago, but that did not deter us from pursuing our training to serve our purpose, because we knew that when the Fire Maiden returned home at last, she would need more protection than ever."
Stunned speechless, Maeve felt her jaw go slack at this new revelation, another mystery solving itself at last. "That's why you've been acting like my second shadow ever since we left Southampton…" she realized out loud, the woman's overprotective behaviour suddenly making sense.
"Yes," Leisa confirmed. "I swore an oath to protect you and I intend to keep it. So long as I shall live, no harm shall befall you."
Maeve found herself at a loss for words once more, baffled by the fact that this formidable warrior, this woman she barely knew, had pledged her life to protect hers because of some old prophecy. It made even less sense than the prophecy itself, swearing an oath to protect a complete stranger, a stranger who was nothing more than an impostor as far as she was concerned. But as Leisa stood tall before her with all the solemn devotion in the world shining in the depth of her dark eyes, Maeve couldn't find the courage to deny her this sacred pledge, choosing instead to thank her.
"You saved my life more times than I can count already, Leisa, so I'd say you're doing a terrific job so far," she said simply, not knowing how else to express her gratitude to the Radakeel.
Leisa fixed her for a few seconds, her features stony and impenetrable, until she dipped her head at last and turned around, disappearing in the shadows of the woods to join the others in the clearing.
Only Robin remained with her, shoulders down and limbs heavy, regret and shame coming off him like steam with his gaze painted a darker shade of blue, somber and haunted as their gazes locked, both standing there in the eerie silence like opposing statues, no armor, no packs, no weapons. Just plain blue shirts and dizzying exhaustion, both physical and mental.
He was the first to break eye contact and move, returning to the campfire to sit down heavily, inviting her to do the same with apparent concern. "Sit down, you need to eat something."
But Maeve remained rooted where she was, frozen and empty, her eyes searching the trees blankly as she tried to put the pieces of her life back together inside her head, like the shattered fragments of a broken vase. She brought her hands up to hug herself, but the cold night air still sunk into her bones like ice.
Everything was crumbling down, over and over again, ever since the storm. And no matter how hard she tried to put the pieces back together again, they all kept falling into ruins at her feet, her hands cutting open and bleeding. The fates just kept toying with her…
First the dangerous shift in magic she had felt after Skull Mountain had blown up…followed by the terrible storm that had stolen her away from the crew…and now this cursed prophecy that was snaking around her limbs like a thorny vine…
And Dim-Dim had known.
After all this time she was used to his cryptic behaviour and his metaphorical riddles, but this time he had gone too far. He had known all along, she was sure of it, and he had told her nothing, choosing instead to feed her lies and half-truths before tossing her into this miserable place to fulfil some bloody prophecy.
And to do what exactly? Saving his friend from a raid was one thing, fighting a fucking war was another. What was she supposed to do?
A chill ran down her spine as the cold clawed at her flesh once more, making her shiver in the muddy darkness.
Could it be true? Was she really a direct descendant of this ancient woman? The Fire Maiden?
Or was this yet another lie? Another trick?
She felt completely lost, abandoned, exiled, and she didn't know what to think anymore, who to trust, the gears in her mind slowing and corroding, exhaustion leaking into the cracks.
All she knew was that Dim-Dim had not been the only one to lie to her…
"You knew," she spoke at last, a defeated murmur lost in the night as her weary gaze landed on Robin sitting alone by the fire. He was stoking up the flames with a stick but instantly froze at her words. "Ever since we met in the woods and you saw my hair. Ever since I told you my name. You knew."
He closed his eyes briefly, looking pained and deeply exhausted, then lowered the stick to the ground. "I had my suspicions, yes," he admitted, the fatigue in his voice matching hers. "But I couldn't be sure of anything until I saw you use magic."
He looked up to her at last, and the flames before him failed to chase away all the shadows that dwelled in his eyes like ghosts, with deep lines of regret creasing his tired features.
But his apparent remorse would not deter her from confronting him. "You lied to me."
"Everything I told you was the truth," he protested carefully.
"You lied by omission," she hissed, feeling the swell of anger rise inside her chest. "You should have told me!"
"When?" he asked, his voice heating up slightly as he aimed to justify himself. "Don't you think it would've been a hundred times worse if I had babbled this out to you in the forest when we met? Or when Wizards George and Adam assailed you with questions the day before we departed?"
"That was more than two weeks ago!" she countered animatedly, stepping closer to the fire to face him head on. "You could have said something since then!"
"I didn't want you to bear this burden until you had to," he said quietly, his expression softening.
"Oh and now I'm ready to bear it?" she picked at him again, the anger in her blood pumping hot and bitter.
But Robin would not rise to her bait. "No," he answered grimly, his voice taking on a serious edge as he looked up to her squarely. "But things changed tonight. That powerful display of magic you did, everyone saw it. Now everyone knows who you truly are."
"Right, because of some ancient prophecy that claims-"
"No." This time he almost snapped, his face hardening. "This prophecy came forth merely two months ago, brought forth by the Seer of the Central Council. It's not just an ancient myth some random scribe stumbled upon in a dusty forgotten book. This is real, a prophecy that was set into motion very recently."
Maeve nearly growled in frustration, shaking her head with gritted teeth. "Ancient or not, you're relying on blind faith. I could be a madwoman for all you know!"
Robin fell silent at that, regarding her with interest as she paced before him like a lion in a cage, and if she hadn't been so ablaze with annoyance, she could have sworn she saw a small smile tugging at his lips.
"But you're not a madwoman," he observed, tilting his head in the firelight to catch her fiery eyes, his features soaking with warmth. "You knew that only one man out of three makes it out alive of the Blind Mountains and yet you came along without hesitation to rescue someone on the other side, someone you don't even know on behalf of your mentor's request." He was listing her good deeds, painting the portrait of the selfless woman he believed her to be. "On the first night the Skinwalkers attacked, you rushed after David to protect him, then you rescued Peter and Lucas and brought them back safely, and tonight you saved us all."
"Stop it," she warned him, not liking this heroic and idealized version of herself, but he purposefully ignored her.
"It's you, Maeve," he insisted. "You might not believe it now, but-"
She turned her back on him, refusing to hear him any longer, but she hadn't made two steps when he grabbed her arm firmly.
"Listen to me," he hissed, standing up to his full height to tug her around and force her to look at him, his hand warm and strong just above her elbow while his raptor gaze shone with a strange mix of determination and fragile hope. "People are scared," he said darkly, his voice ringing with alarm and urgency. "War is coming. Southampton was hit first, and then Denwood was burned to the ground. Another shore will be next and the people know it. Everyone is terrified to have their homes destroyed and their loved ones butchered by King Zankar and his Blood Raiders." He paused for a moment, as if losing himself in the dark canvas he was depicting, and searching for the right words that would properly convey what he wanted to say. His blue eyes surfed on her face for purchase, as if he was seeing her for the first time. "But now you're here…the Fire Maiden returned home…and suddenly the people have hope again, something to hold on to. Suddenly they have courage, faith…"
His words pinned her down, stealing the breath from her lungs for a few seconds, but she quickly found her voice again. "So you expect me to cast a spell that turns all your enemies away? It doesn't work like that." The resentment in her blood was still boiling, and the crushing look in his eyes as they stood so close together in a wordless confrontation was not enough to quench it. "I am not powerful enough to take out an entire army-"
"No one is asking you to do that, Maeve," he said softly, his grip on her arm loosening a little. "You're not alone in this. There's our army, the Central Council in Erindale, the wizards who preside it, the-"
"It seems like you have it all figured out, don't you, General?" Maeve cut him off bitterly, pulling her arm free and stepping away from him, using his title to drive an even bigger wedge between them. "But what makes you think I'll even agree to play Fire Maiden for you and Kalladrell?" She asked in outright defiance. "That's not why I came here. I came here to rescue Jacob in Denwood. That's it." She was omitting the possibility of a Belrok rising from the Wikken Hells but right now she couldn't have cared less.
"What if he's already dead?" Robin pointed out bluntly, defying her in return as the invisible tension condensed between them.
But she held his gaze coldly. "Then I have no reason to stay."
He looked away at that, pained, her words like arrows chipping at his armour. "So you're just going to leave?" His voice lost its edge a little, her rejection visibly wounding him, but he clenched his jaw and pushed on. "You'll just walk away and never look back? Return to your friends and that captain of yours who makes you sad and angry every night?"
As soon as the words left his mouth he paled like a ghost, as if he had just struck her across the face. And his comment had virtually the same effect, punching the air right out of her lungs, her eyes stinging like he'd just pressed a hot poker to her flesh.
"I…I'm sorry…" he faltered, profound regret swelling in his eyes as his hand raised slightly, grasping thin air like he wanted to take it all back. "I had no right to say that."
But it was too late.
He had accurately knocked her shield right in the center, leaving her completely bare and vulnerable as she failed to deny the truth behind his words, realizing that he could see right through her and read her as easily as a book. Every time she had watched the crew…every time she had watched him…Little pieces of her heart breaking off…
Robin just stood before her, frozen and miserable, while the empty space between them quickly filled with boneless shadows and bricks, assembling into a mighty wall whether they wanted it or not.
Where he found the strength to speak again, she did not know, but when he did, he was thoroughly broken. "All I ask is that you don't turn your back on us so quickly," he murmured weakly, simple and true, blue eyes unbelievably sad and sorry. "Please…"
Her vision blurred at the sight of him, so helpless and exposed like a wounded soldier, and she had to blink several times before she could find her voice again, swallowing hard. "How can I even trust you after everything you kept from me?"
"That's not fair," he protested sadly, shaking his head. "I promised you I would tell you everything once we reached Denwood." She averted her gaze at that, knowing he spoke the truth, while he glanced regretfully at the gloomy trees that surrounded them. "I never wanted you to learn it all like this, in the middle of the Blind Mountains."
"You should have told me sooner," she insisted, a hint of stubbornness returning to her blood.
"I was only trying to protect you," Robin apologized once more, eyes landing back on her with sorrow.
"I don't need your protection," she replied with finality, officially putting an end to their tensed conversation as she strode past him to head for the clearing, the only direction available to her in the rotten darkness of the mountains.
Her head was pounding, she was exhausted beyond the last shreds of her sanity, she was starving, and right now she just wanted to be left alone.
When she entered the clearing, the first campfire she found was harbouring her previous interlocutors, Leisa, Simon, Coop, Mark and Leo, none of them sleeping. Instead, they were sitting around the flames, their hushed conversation abruptly dying when they caught sight of her, lifting their heads up with silent questions swimming in their eyes. Did she finally believe them? Had Robin managed to convince her?
The last thing she wanted was to confront them again, having no more strength and fire left within her to counter all their arguments for tonight, so she stubbornly ignored them and kept going forward.
But she had barely made three steps into the clearing when an odd realization stopped her again.
No one was sleeping.
Soldiers, volunteers…It was the middle of the night, yet everyone was sitting wide awake around little campfires, whispering amongst themselves in quiet conversations, with a hush abruptly falling upon them all as soon as they spotted her, heads snapping in her direction and eyes anchoring on her.
As if they had been waiting for her all this time.
And then it dawned on her.
They knew.
Just like Robin had warned her.
Everyone knew now, her identity publicly confirmed by her powerful display of magic earlier tonight, the prophecy coming true at long last before their very eyes.
And now here she stood before them, the mythical woman they had been waiting for, freshly briefed about her legacy and ready to save them all.
Maeve felt her heart hammer painfully inside her ribcage, like a tempest unleashed at sea as she watched the ocean of battered faces before her, hundreds of eyes gleaming in the firelight with boundless wonder, timeless reverence, pure hope…
They were all looking at her wide-eyed like she was a ghost, a benevolent spirit returned from the dead to protect them all, and the sheer magnitude of it all rooted her in place as good as stone, stealing her breath away and drying up her throat like sand.
Ally, David, Peter, Lucas…
They all stared at her, waiting, hoping, while she just stood there completely clueless, speechless, her bones soaking with paralysing fear.
Until someone moved.
Robert Thomet from Denwood.
The massive bearded man rose from his seat and stepped up to her solemnly, an indescribable look lodged deep in his somber green eyes as everyone behind him stood up as well, soldiers and volunteers alike.
He stood before her directly, appraising her in the choking silence of the night like a knight facing his queen, with his battle-hardened features lighting up with renewed purpose, calm and resolute.
And then he pulled his sword from the scabbard at his hip, the blade's metallic ring echoing through the trees, planted the tip down into the ground and sunk to one knee before her, head bowed down.
Her mouth fell open in soundless shock, but before she could even blink, all the other soldiers and volunteers that stood behind him followed suit, kneeling down before her in the clearing with royal deference, the solemn motion rippling through the crowd all the way to the opposite edge of the trees.
In the heart of the moonless night, the entire convoy was bending the knee to her, to the woman they believed she was, an ancient queen promised to them by prophecy and returned to her homeland at last.
The Fire Maiden of Kalladrell.
I used to be afraid of who I would become
Stone cold in the dark, lost count of the scars
But I've just begun [...]
When the world goes down in flames
And all hope is left to die [...]
I'll walk through the fire
I'll be the last survivor
The Last Survivor - Unsecret