Chapter 5; Little Fires:
The morning found Nuada restless and already awake. Though his chambers did not have any windows, he could tell the sun had only just now started to rise. He had spent many centuries living underground, following Mr. Wink from country to country as they both etched out a living with their crafts, but no matter how long he remained below Nuada could always tell the sun's position. It brought him some comfort to know the heavens moved as they always had through all the changes the earth suffered at the hands of humans.
Still, it was too early to break his fast, as the canteen did not open until seven. Nuada had several hours to waste then.
Dressing himself in trousers, a long grey tunic, and a red sash belt, Nuada stepped out into the hall. The soft soles of his boots barely made a sound as he walked. Silence and stillness came easily to elves, able to pass unnoticed by most mortal eyes and ears. But for Nuada it was an essential skill. As a warrior, as an outcast prince, it was always better to remain unseen and unheard, until he wished it. But today his steps felt heavy, sluggish. He would have blamed it on his poor night's sleep, but Nuada knew better.
Something was…off. It shifted his concentration, making things harder to focus on, harder to achieve. Yesterday, while training, he was going through a sequence with his spear he had performed a thousand times and a thousand times again. And yet, by the end of it, when it came to the final lunge, his grip loosened and he ended up dropping his weapon. It clattered to the ground loudly, and for several moments Nuada could only stare at it, his breath heavy with exhaustion. He knew he had been lacking focus of late, but this…
He had not been like this since he went into self-imposed exile, all those centuries ago. The anger, the frustration, it sank deeply into him. But at least back then, Nuada still had a purpose. He still felt a need to protect his people, to do what his father could not, to do what was necessary to save the Other Kind. He was able to overcome his despair with his goal in mind and the loyal Mr. Wink at his side. Now that he knew such efforts to be hopeless and his dear friend was gone, these feelings dug themselves in further. Hollowing him out from the inside.
Nuada quickly arrived at his destination; the greenhouse. It was on the ground floor of the BPRD, which only within the past few months had he been granted access to roam for his 'good behavior' so far. Director Manning made it clear that should Nuada abuse this privilege, he had no qualms about taking away Nuala's status as a guest here. As it would prevent her from seeing Abe whenever she wished, it would in turn ruin what little a relationship Nuada still had with his sister. It was as sure a threat as if the man had a knife to Nuada's back.
Entering the greenhouse, Nuada was greeted with the sweetness of fresh air. The compound was stagnant with the smell of humans, but here the plants purified the air, perfuming the space. Most of the plants were of strange or magical quality, some so deadly that to brush against them was enough to invite their poison into one's veins. As Nuada made his way to the center, leaves and petals trembled excitedly in his wake. They were beginning to wonder where their Prince had been, as there had been much excitement here these past few days. Nuada only passively wondered what could have the plants so riled, when he finally made his way to his typical haunt.
It was a wooden chair that had been left here and forgotten, left next to a work table pressed against the western facing wall. The table had all sorts of odds and ends, from spades to terracotta pots, to packets of seeds from the most curious specimens. Nuada reached above the table to a shelf too tall for most humans to reach without the aid of a step. There he took hold of the book he had left here, and sitting himself down, he tried to enjoy it.
The iron supports of the greenhouse cast shadows down, like a spider's web, as the sun slowly continued to rise. The vegetation continued to stir, whispering for Nuada's attention. He was not their caretaker – that would be whatever unlucky new hire got stuck here – but they ever so enjoyed the Bethmoora Prince's company. His presence brought out the virgin wildness in their roots, as it always was with elves. But this day they had something they wanted to tell him, and so tried harder to capture his attention.
Eventually, Nuada closed his book. It held no interest for him anyway, as the words could not reach through the fog of his mind. Seeing their chance, the plants shivered as they drew his attention to the source of their excitement. Curious, Nuada left his seat and walked over to the corner opposite him.
There, carefully arranged, were new specimens he had not seen before. There had to be at least twenty, with some sitting patiently in pots and others whose roots were tied up in burlap and itching to break free. Nuada considered each with a careful eye and was surprised at the variety, ranging from common to near extinct. Ribwort…Troll's Tongue…Bindweed…even Moon Goddess Lilly.
Cautiously, Nuada extended a hand towards the lily to wake it up. It did not react when he traced the outer edge of its leaves, as it already quivered with life. Someone greatly cared for these plants, cultivating and encouraging their savage magic that normally lay dormant. As he retreated back to his seat beside the work table, he considered who brought these newcomers. It certainly was not any human, or at least, not the ones that worked here at the BPRD. Their fingers were coated with gunpowder and soot, not at all adept at caring for anything young and green and magical. Perhaps Nuala then?
The residents of the greenhouse trembled about Nuada, and he picked up their humor at his ignorance. He waited for them to have their fun, knowing they would tell him when they wanted to. The answer came sooner than he expected.
"Witch…"
Several hours later, Nuada finally made his way down to the canteen. Normally he made it earlier than this to avoid the usual crowd, but he had lost track of time in the greenhouse. If not for feeling his sister's presence within, Nuada would have avoided it altogether until it was empty once more. He felt the need to be closer to his sister however, as her company had a calming effect on him at times. He hoped this would be one of them.
Loading a tray with his typical morning fare, he approached her.
"Nuada, good morrow." His twin greeted, her smile lifting her eyes. She seemed glad to see him, probably worried about the anguish she sensed within his mind. He would put her at ease however, if just avoid confronting those feelings himself a little longer.
"If it would please you, we would be glad of your company as we break our fast." Nuala invited, gesturing to the seat beside her. At the table with her were Agent Myers, the demon, and Miss Sherman. The three of them were finishing paperwork for their most recent mission together over a couple of cups of coffee. Well, really it was Miss Sherman and Agent Myers who did the paperwork. The demon merely sat by and would make unhelpful comments once in a while.
"I believe I will," Nuada accepted, much to the surprise of everyone. Typically, he avoided spending more time than necessary with any of them, but for the sake of his sister's company he would put up with them. The demon, however, was not happy over this change of habit.
"Prince Charming gracing us with his presence. Aren't we lucky?" He muttered, earning his mate's annoyance as she elbowed his side. She gave Nuada an apologetic look.
"Don't mind him. He's just in a grouchy mood because Abe is on a mission and he wasn't invited."
"I can hold my breath underwater just as long as he can." The demon protested.
"Sure thing, tough guy."
Nuada was certain the woman's attempt to contain her mate's temper was more for Nuala's sake than his. The human woman had a reasonable dislike of Nuada. He had tried to kill her mate after all. But of late she seemed to be putting forth an effort to be more welcoming towards him. He correctly guessed that this must be Nuala's influence. His twin had a way of winning people over that he did not, able to make requests of others that they themselves would not even consider if anyone else but her asked. She was always welcomed where she went, able to win the admiration of the coldest hearts, as their mother once had. It was never something Nuada felt jealousy over, but since childhood, he had always been aware of the stark difference in how they were received by others.
Regardless, Nuada did have to wonder at his sister's current presence. If her amphibian man was not here, then why was she? Perhaps she was truly concerned for Nuada and came to visit him specifically. Or more likely there was some news from the Council and she wished to consult with him. Even if he was a banished traitor, she valued his opinion on some matters. Either way, Nuada had a feeling that his sister had something to tell him when she found the chance to be alone with him…
For the moment though, Nuada supped on the fruit, cheeses, and bread he had selected. He was not strictly against meat but preferred to hunt his own when he did partake. As it was, what he ate lacked any true flavor. Certainly, the humans thought it sufficient, but Nuada longed for the spices and delicacies he was used to purchasing at the Troll markets. Thinking of the place he had once called home for so many years brought another wave of misery through Nuada, but he disregarded it.
"Hey, Prince. You and me hitting the gym today?" Hellboy asked after becoming bored with teasing his mate.
"I would rather not."
Again, this was a surprise to everyone at the table. Nuada never shied from any opportunity to train. But with his recent lack of focus and yesterday's incident, Nuada did not think it wise to partake this time. If he made any mistake in front of the demon, the hell beast would never let him live it down…
"Are you feeling unwell?" Nuala asked, and Nuada could sense a worry in her mind over him. He buried the troubling emotions further down, trying to escape her reach, wishing not for the first time that he and his twin were so connected.
"It is nothing that will not pass." He told her, though she knew it to be a lie. She accepted it nonetheless, but the demon would not let the topic go.
"What will pass? A cold? Do elves get colds?"
"Why not? You get fevers." Miss Sherman countered, causing the demon to smirk.
"Only when you're near, babe."
"Oh, Lord." Agent Myers muttered, just as uncomfortable with their flirting as everyone else at the table. The demon and his mate didn't seem to mind, but the moment ended abruptly when Hellboy spotted a lone figure on the other side of the canteen.
"Hey. It's short and strange."
Glancing over, Nuada saw it was the witch. It had been two weeks since their run-in at the library, and Nuada had not given her much thought until this morning. She looked different, her hair being unbound, and it nearly trailed behind her on the floor as she walked to the serving counters with a tray. She was wearing a green button-down dress and wool cardigan, tugging the sleeves of the latter every few seconds to cover her wrists. She seemed nervous, barely able to stutter what she wanted to the cook. At any little noise near her, she flinched, but thankfully there was no outburst of her powers. It would seem she did not like crowds any more than Nuada, possibly less so.
"Be nice. She's just a kid." Miss Sherman berated her mate. The demon shrugged.
"I am nice. I just don't like the way she looks at you."
"I'm sure it's nothing," She dismissed before standing up to wave at the witch.
"Hey, Eve!"
At hearing her name called out, the witch froze. Looking over and noticing them, she made no sign to move for a few moments. After some debate with herself to stay or come over, the witch ended up giving in and made her way over to their table.
"Merry meet!" She greeted them all, her cheer and smile a little forced.
"First time seeing you here."
"Yes, well, normally I prefer to make my own breakfast, but there has been…a complication." The witch explained, turning towards Myers, "Thank you again for getting my groceries. I truly appreciate you procuring them for me."
"Any time. Sorry if I missed something on your list, your fancy handwriting was a bit hard to decipher." The agent replied, grinning widely.
The demon and his mate shared a glance, picking up on the not-so-subtle fondness their mutual friend had for the witch. She had him – what was that human phrase? – wrapped around her little finger.
"No, no. You did wonderfully. It's the stove that's the problem." The witch sighed in disappointment, "I just don't know how to command it. Dr. Hale's stove never showed an ounce of attitude, such a sweet little thing."
"Oh, uh, maybe try the microwave?" Myers suggested, but that only further upset the witch.
"The microwave is even worse. I hexed it and now it won't stop barking at me."
"Yeah. Hate it when that happens." Hellboy commented, just as confused as the others. There was a brief lull in the conversation as the witch continued to stand where she was, idly holding her tray and uncertain of what should happen next. It seemed she was once again debating on staying or leaving when Nuala spoke up.
"Please, sit with us, Miss Winters."
The witch gushed at the personal invitation, unable to properly mutter her thanks. There were two chairs left available, one beside Miss Sherman, and the other next to Nuada. To most everyone's surprise, the witch chose the one next to him. Again, the demon shared a look with his mate, his suspicion about the witch confirmed in his mind.
"If it pleases you, your highness, you may call me Eve." The witch finally managed to say. Nuala smiled gently at the young woman, an expression Nuada had seen her use only on the most skittish of animals.
"Only if you will call me Nuala."
The table was now a bustle of conversation. Myers was rushing to finish the paperwork with Miss Sherman and Hellboy, eager to enjoy this rare opportunity to dine with the witch. But the demon was not cooperating, choosing to answer each question with sarcasm, which only served to frustrate the agent. Nuala continued to exchange pleasantries with the witch, asking her the usual questions that came with small talk. The witch hardly minded as she slowly started to relax.
Nuada began to consider leaving, very much aware of how the others overlooked his presence as they talked. Even the witch, despite being so close to him, seemed to glance everywhere but towards him. He knew he, like so many it seemed, made her nervous. That begged the question of why she would choose to be at his side then. He decided he would finish his meal and be on his way, lest he troubled his sister by abruptly leaving. As he ate though, he could not help but notice what the witch dined on. She only had a bowl of milk, a few slices of bread, and berries. The bread she tore into chunks and placed in the bowl, letting them soak up the milk before scattering the berries on top. It was not something a typical human enjoyed for their first daily meal. Not for several centuries, at any rate.
"So, Eve. Do you have siblings?" Asked Myers, finally finished with his paperwork.
Before the witch had time to answer, the demon snorted.
"She's the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter Myers."
"Oh, right." The agent chuckled in embarrassment, but the witch didn't seem to mind his forgetfulness.
"Yes, I am the youngest in my family."
"That must be tough."
"No," The witch disagreed with a smile, "It was wonderful. Even after my sisters married, they remained nearby our family home. I would often visit each of them, helping them with chores or looking after my little nieces and nephews. Then for Yule and Samhain, they would come over and all of us would celebrate and dance till dawn."
"Sky-clad I bet," Hellboy muttered with a smirk. This earned him, yet again, another elbow to his gut from his mate. Myers didn't pick up on the cue, and could not help his curiosity.
"Sky-clad? What's that?"
"I'll tell you when you are older kid." The demon teased, serving to only confuse the human more. As for the witch, her cheeks were nearly as red as the demon's. Nuada wondered if her embarrassment would cause some outburst of her magic, but no, she merely looked like she wished for the floor to swallow her alive.
"It all sounds like a lot of fun." Miss Sherman spoke, attempting to move on from her mate's mischief at the witch's expense. Eagerly the witch took up the offer.
"It was. Sometimes my sisters would bring their daughters with when they became old enough. There were so many of us that all together we were nearly made up half of the village. Poor father always felt so outnumbered."
"Village?" The demon frowned.
"Well, I grew up in a very small town." The witch corrected herself, but Hellboy only shook his head.
"Last I heard Salem was pretty big. Tourism and all that."
"Oh," The witch exclaimed, as if she had forgotten, only to explain too quickly, "We lived just outside of it. Father owned a farm. We mostly grew corn."
Nuada, having been listening to the conversation, silently tallied his growing suspicion. The witch was a terrible liar, and not much of what she said made sense when pressed, but no one but the demon and himself seemed to have yet noticed it. She had said before that her family no longer carried on the tradition of magic, but if they were celebrating the sacred holidays, they surely must be in some form or fashion. And if that was true, why then did she go to Dr. Hale to learn magic when her sisters could have finished her education? From the sound of it, her family was her coven, and to leave them behind when they all seemed so close was not natural.
However, Hellboy quickly lost interest in perusing the point and shrugged.
"Sounds cozy."
"Do you see them often? Your family?" Myers hurried asked, wanting to monopolize the witch's time all for himself.
"On holidays, yes. That was when I lived with Dr. Hale though. I do not know if it might be possible to arrange a visit with them now."
"Sure it is. We have tons of cars and snacks. Could make a road trip out of it." He offered, but the witch only shook her head. Her reply came slowly as if it pained her to speak it.
"It is best if I perhaps took leave of absence from them."
"Troubled family, huh? I get that." Uttered the demon as he took out a cigar from his jacket pocket. He started padding himself down, looking for a lighter and frowning when he couldn't.
"To say the least." Agreed the witch. Before Myers could ask yet another question, Nuala beat him to it.
"How did you meet Dr. Hale?"
"Oh, well…in a way she found me. She saw me preforming magic and knew who I was right away. She took me in, and–"
The witch's voice died very suddenly as something caught her eye. Across the table, Miss Sherman had ignited her hand with her fire so as to light her mate's cigar. Nuada felt more than saw the witch's reaction as the air quivered with magic, causing the glassware on the table to shake. Taking a guess as to what was going to happen, Nuada barely had time to reach and cover his sister's face as the glasses shattered. Pieces shot everywhere, forcing everyone's heads down. The situation was made worse as the witch stood herself up afterward, bumping the table with her knee as she backed away as quickly as she could.
"Hey!" Miss Sherman shouted when one of the broken mugs started to spill coffee onto her lap. Thankfully this was the worst of the damage, as everyone had covered their faces in time. But the demon, accurately guessing who was responsible, growled at the witch angrily.
"Watch it Rapunzel!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Oh, God!" The witch further panicked, "I…I just…"
"Are you okay?" Myers asked as he approached the obviously frightened woman. She quickly stepped away from him, bringing her hands to her chest.
"No! Don't touch me!"
That gave the agent pause, and the witch only then realized she had shouted at him. Worse, she had the attention of the entire canteen on her. As if their eyes hurt her, she further flinched away from them. While the agents here were used to a lot of strange things, they weren't used to those strange things happening over their breakfast. Knowing she had overstayed her welcome, the witch turned from them all.
"I'm sorry. I'll leave. I'm sorry." She muttered one last time before making her escape. No one got in her way or tried to stop her with questions as she left. In her absence, hushed whispers rose up. Everyone in the canteen was curious about what just happened, but Hellboy thought he found the answer.
"See. I told you. She has some kind of grudge against you." He told his mate. Miss Sherman shook her head.
"I don't think it's that. I think she afraid of fire."
The demon frowned in thought for a moment, but then realization dawned on him and he muttered a small 'oh'. It was not the same for Myers.
"Why would she be afraid of fire?"
"Gee. I wonder if it has something to do with Salem, smart guy." Hellboy replied mockingly.
"But…they haven't burned witches for hundreds of years." The human's voice was uncertain and questioning. To Nuada's own surprise, he decided to answer.
"Fear and hate do not disappear as quickly as that."
"Are you certain you are alright?" Nuada asked his sister yet again. They were walking the halls of the BPRD together, having left the canteen not long after the witch's outburst. Though their connection would have alerted Nuada if Nuala had been physically hurt by the witch, Nuada could not help but be concerned.
"Of course, brother." Nuala smiled, soothing her brother's worries, "I worry for Eve though. She seemed so terribly frightened."
Nuada nodded in agreement, though he did not share the same sympathies of his sister towards the witch. The suspicions he held towards her came now to his mind. He had debated before whether or not to share these concerns with anyone, but given this recent incident, he began to change his mind. At least in regards to his sister, as she seemed to be not far off in drawing the same conclusions as he.
"Strange, her powers seemed to be tied to her emotions. That is not normally how magic works for witches." Nuala spoke, and Nuada nodded in agreement again.
"I am beginning to wonder if she even is one, everything else about her seems to be an all too flimsy lie."
"What do you mean?"
Nuada explained to her. He shared his suspicions, what he had witnessed in the training room, the library. Nuala knew as well as he that the abilities the witch had so far demonstrated were not the skills a mere apprentice should be capable of. Nuala seemed to know as he did that the witch was a fountain of uncontrolled power, and what danger that could bring. Nuada kept what he had learned in the greenhouse to himself though, the notion of disclosing such details uncomfortable to him for some reason. It was not necessary in any case, as it did not further condemn the dangers of the witch.
"I would advise that you stay away from her." He ended with, turning towards his sister. She appeared thoughtful, and Nuada could tell there was conflict in her mind. She wanted to heed his advice, knowing he only spoke of it to protect her, but he waited for her inevitable rebuttal. They never could agree on anything. No matter how many centuries they had spent apart, at least that remained the same between them.
"I understand…but I think we should give her the benefit of the doubt. She has suffered the loss of a dear friend and has been moved to a new home with people who are suspicious of her. I can only imagine how frightened and lonely she must be. It is only natural that her powers would be…unfocused." Nuala voiced, sparing her brother a sidelong look. Knowing what she meant, Nuada scowled.
"If you are trying to suggest that I and the witch are similar, then-"
"Not similar. The same." Nuala corrected him but pressed on before he had a chance to reply, "But let us drop the matter for now. I need to speak to you."
"Is it the Council?" He asked, taking a guess as to why she had come here. Nuala's thoughtful frown told him he was right.
"The Council has decided to take action to destroy the Golden Army."
Nuada stopped. His sister took a few more steps before slowing down herself, but she refused to look back at him. She could already feel the confusion, hurt, betrayal, anger, and despair that crashed through him before he managed to find his voice.
"Destroy?" He repeated.
Solemnly, his sister nodded.
"We have commissioned the current master of the goblin blacksmiths to melt them down. Every last one."
"The army cannot be commanded without the crown, and the demon's mate melted it. Why would you-"
"We felt it necessary. Its complete destruction will ensure that no one will ever be able to use it. Not ever again." Nuala cut him off, her own emotions beginning to overwhelm her.
They stood in silence for several moments, assessing each other's emotions. Nuala was nervous but hid it well, knowing it was best that she be honest with her brother about the Council's decision. She had hoped that it would act as closure for the pair of them, and allow them both to start healing. But it was clear to her now that this had been a foolish hope.
For yet again the two of them were as opposite as could be. Nuada did not see this as a healing. He saw it as the worst of wounds to be suffered. Worse than the death of his own father.
"I see." He finally bit out in reply.
It was clear why Nuala had done this. She still feared him. Still feared what he might do that she had to erase every chance of him being able to take control over the Golden Army. And she was right to. Nuada himself had wondered in the long hours of sleepless nights if he was ready to surrender the last hope for his people. His imprisonment was not as permanent as most would like to think. After all, the demon would not live forever, as he was no true immortal. And doubtful he would want to be, given that his own mate was human. The demon was the only one strong enough to oppose Nuada head-on, and with him gone Nuada would no longer have reason to remain in this place, no reason to continue in this false peace with humans. Perhaps when this happened, Nuala feared Nuada would attempt to find some way to command the Golden Army. Then she would have to make do on her promise and end the both of them.
In a way, she believed in him more than he did himself. And he felt the need to laugh. Little did she know how far he had sunk…how hollow he truly was.
"You fear my hatred of humans that much? You think I may be tempted to wage war again?" He finally asked her, getting his answer in the spark of disquiet he felt rise inside her. He laughed again, breathlessly, "You should not have bothered. I hate them, yes. But I know everything to be useless now."
"Useless?" Nuala frowned, reaching a hand out for her brother. She recoiled when she felt the depth of her brother's misery. Its emptiness burned her so, and her eyes began to shine with tears.
"It is as you said, our days have ended. Even with the Golden Army, there could be no salvation for us. The humans have won. All there is left to do is fade."
"Brother, I did not mean-" Nuala tried to speak to offer some comfort, but Nuada had enough. He turned from her and walked away, ignoring how it hurt his sister to do so.
Nuada walked on, not certain as to where he was heading. In his anger, he seemed to have made a turn towards the training room, an activity that normally helped him refocus his emotions. But not today. Not for this. And so he continued to wander.
He felt so hopeless. Nuada did not want to admit it to himself before, wanting to blame a lack of focus that would pass, but now he had no choice. Nuada had failed, but it was more than that. Failure did not reach as far as this, for now, Nuada could see everything he had ever done amounted to nothing. The one thing that could protect his people was now going to be destroyed. Gone for good. From the death of Mr. Wink to the death of his own father, it had been for nothing.
Worse than nothing, for Nuada knew even if he had taken control of the Golden Army, it would not be enough to save his people. Not with the earth so sick and the sky so heavy, and not with the pitiful number of them remaining. The last elf child had been born nearly seven hundred years ago, and with each passing decade, more of their elders turned to stone. To realize the goal Nuada had fought for so long be so wholly and completely out of his reach…it was the death of the smallest hope he had managed to cling to for these past centuries.
It was the final toll of the bell, and he could hear it ringing in his mind. Time would see his people fade. Nuala seemed to have already made peace with their fate and would have her remaining years filled with love with Abe by her side. Perhaps their people would choose to follow suit, finding their last pleasures to be had in this world. But there would be no such pleasure for Nuada, nor anyone whose company that could keep his remaining years from being empty. His time would be as hollow and as meaningless as he was now…as hollow and as meaningless as humans had made him and his kin…
Nuada stopped. He did not recognize what section of the BPRD he had wandered into, his thoughts had been so consuming. Forcing himself to regain his composer, he noticed what appeared to be a familiar hall that would lead back to his private quarters, and followed it down. But when he saw the lights flickering ahead, he wondered if he had chosen wrong.
Quickly Nuada found he hadn't, but indeed something had gone wrong, for he could hear a quiet sob coming from around a corner ahead. There the lights flickered violently, nearly enough to give him a headache. Approaching, he sensed a wild surge of magic in the air. It was nearly palpable, and he knew there could only be one person responsible for it.
Rounding the corner, Nuada could see the witch. She was huddled into the corner of a dead-end, hugging her knees and her head buried in her hands. She must have run here after the incident at breakfast, blinded by emotion like him. She had not noticed him, and Nuada considered leaving her undisturbed – it was no business of his, after all – when he heard her speak.
"I hate this place. It's cold and dark. It smells like nothing but dust and stone. How can anyone bear it?"
Her voice was cracked with sorrow, as miserable sounding as she looked. Her hair spilled about her like fresh snow, shrouding her in white like a ghost. Something about the pitiful picture she made reached out to Nuada then, and he knew he could not leave her there. Besides, given her emotional state, she was likely to cause harm if she did not calm down soon. And with Nuala on the premise, Nuada was not about to risk the chance the witch running into her like this.
"Miss Winters, are you alright?" He spoke as gently as he could, but evidentially it was not enough. The witch yelped in surprise, and predictably her powers lashed out in defense. Above them the lights shattered, casting the dead-end into darkness. Nuada himself was unharmed, but the witch was frantic.
"Oh, Lord! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She cried, pushing herself onto her feet. As her eyes adjusted, she became even more panicked as she noticed who was in the dark with her.
"Prince Nuada! I…I…uh, I…!" She gasped, backing away from him back into the corner. Rather than suffer through her stuttering, Nuada finished for her.
"You are lost, and I startled you."
"N-no! Well yes. Very. To both." She spoke quickly. Like a child she looked down at her feet in guilt, adding after a moment, "Apologies, your highness. I was just trying to get back to my room and got turned around."
Nuada accepted her apology with a nod, and silence fell in their dark corner. He wondered how to proceed from here. He had wanted to calm the woman down but seemed to only make her more flustered. He considered taking his leave, but some curiosity forced him to remain. Perhaps it was Nuala's comment about the two of them, or perhaps it was Nuada's need for a distraction from himself. Either way, he found himself unwilling to leave the witch's side.
"I believe our rooms share the same hallway. I am retiring to mine now if you wish to follow." He eventually offered, much to the surprise of the witch.
"Oh! Um…I…" She flustered, uncertain of what to do. Eventually, she recovered enough to attempt a curtsy, and replied to him in Daoine, "How kind. Thank you, your highness."
Nuada flinched to hear those words spoken in his mother tongue but swallowed his annoyance. Without a word, he turned and left the darkened corner, leading the witch back out into the lit hallway. He did not shorten his stride, and the witch struggled to keep up with his pace for a time. This show of curtesy in no way lessened his suspicions about the witch, though it did instill a feeling of pity towards her. His sister may be right that the witch was merely lonely and frightened, but that did not make her any less dangerous. He wondered if that was why his sister saw such a similarity between them, but he brushed the thought aside. He did not want to think anymore about what his sister had spoken to him.
As for the witch though, she seemed to be burning with curiosity. She kept glancing up at him, biting her lip as if to keep back a thousand questions that were dancing on the tip of her tongue. Afraid of what she might ask of him, Nuada decided to start a casual conversation.
"Your accent is very heavy." He gritted out after a moment.
"Hm?" She sounded in surprise, then gasped, "Oh! Yes. I know. My eldest sister was better at speaking Daoine than I, but none of us could compare to mother. It was a second language to her."
"I did not think it was possible for the human tongue to speak our language, let alone master it." Nuada's tone was harsh with disapproval, but the witch did not notice.
"Mother was of the blood of Elves. An old ancestor we think, from many centuries ago. We suspected that was where our ability for magic came from." She told him proudly.
Nuada did not bother to contain a grimace. Most witches, whether actual decedents of the Other Kind or not, often claimed some family link to elves. It increased their prestige on the market, or so they thought. It was more often than not a lie, as elves rarely mated with those outside their own kind. Still, that did not stop every witch from saying their great-great-grandfather was an elf, and it was clear this girl was no different.
The witch, still oblivious to Nuada's rising resentment, then smiled up at him in a daze.
"You know, until I met you, I had not seen an elf before. I did not know this was how they looked."
"And how do I look?" Nuada hissed.
"Beautiful."
The witch's answer caught the both of them off guard. She lowered her gaze before apologizing.
"Sorry. Dr. Hale once told me that I can be very plain-spoken, but I do not think she meant it as a compliment."
Nuada was uncertain how to take this. He had become used to being seen as strange, even beguiling, by humans over the centuries, but for many his appearance did not live up to their expectations. Humans expected elves to be small, happy things like they had read about in their fairy tales. The witch's praise was really not much better, as Nuada disliked how she fawned over him and his sister. Like they were exotic pieces of art on display she meant to collect. What she said next only made this dislike grow.
"It is just that I always wished to see an elf. Ever since I was a little girl. But with your kind being so rare now I did not think I would get the chance to meet one." The witch continued, missing how the muscles of Nuada's jaw clenched in anger, "It is an honor, truly."
She then laughed, the sound echoing down the hall.
"And I promise to work on my accent."
"Do not," Nuada growled, his patience snapped. The witch finally seemed to take note and frowned.
"Pardon?"
Nuada turned to fully face the witch, the pair of them stopping in the middle of the empty hallway. Immediately she withered, his anger apparent to even her oblivious nature. The wide-eyed look she gave him set something off in Nuada, and he found all his previous pity for her replaced with a deep-seated loathing that burned in his veins like acid.
"You are not worthy."
"I…I don't…" She stammered, sounding like a young pup that had just been kicked.
"You are not worthy to speak of Bethmoora, of my people. To speak to me in my native tongue that you butcher for your own amusement."
"I didn't mean–"
"You are nothing but a human. Worse, for you claim to know me and my kin. Do not think your magic is anything more than cheap tricks your ancestors stole from the Other Kind for their own gains. Worse, you have no control over it, no understanding, for it does not belong to you. You take and you take. Proud, empty, hollow things that you are. When will you be satisfied? When all magic is gone or perverted in this world? When we are but pretty stories to tell? What more have we left to give? What more do I have left?"
Nuada knew he was shouting now, but the anger in his heart poured out. His sister dared to compare him to this pathetic human? This girl's study of magic was only to feel some semblance of exceptionality in her otherwise bland existence. That's why she could not control it, as it was never hers to possess. But that's what humans did. They took what was not theirs. They took everything. They had made his life - his mission to protect his people – meaningless in their greed. His father's death, the Golden Army, all empty gestures and now they wanted more. They wanted his last shred of dignity and they wanted him to smile and fulfill their childhood fantasies when they were the ones to kill the dream. They were the ones to drive his people to extinction, to destroy his last remaining hope for his people, to ruin all chance of happiness…
"I don't understand." The witch spoke, her voice a ghost of a whisper.
The lights above them began to flicker again, and Nuada's control broke free from his spell of anger. His words would do nothing to change what was already set in motion. Still, he refused to feel any regret. He had too much already.
"No, of course you do not." He spat before turning away. She remained frozen to her spot, barely breathing, as he left her behind.
