Chapter Forty Two

Battle Scars

MELODY

It didn't take much longer for the battle to be over. The Exonians who hadn't been cut down by the villagers fled from Mon Solrak and into the freezing night. Others threw down their muskets and pleaded for quarter, and in mercy, the villagers had granted it to them. The battle had descended quite quickly into a rout, all things considered. The Exonian soldiers had grown complacent, resulting in their sluggish response and ultimately, their downfall.

In truth, Melody didn't expect them to go down that easily. Perhaps the reason why this company had been assigned to occupy this colonial outpost far from Exon was because they were incompetent fools who would only slow down the rest of the Imperial Horde in their campaign for conquest. The folly of enlisting too many men for the army, Deirdre had suggested, which Eleanor had responded to with a irritated grunt.

In any case, the soldiers that had been killed in the battle - or skirmish - were looted of their possessions, and their bodies were left lying in the middle of the snow covered street. The ground was a mix of white and red where the Exonians lay, but the villagers didn't seem to care. Not tonight at least. Tonight, everyone was celebrating.

The celebration was mainly housed in two places: the longhouse and the tavern. The longhouse was for those who wanted to feast, and the tavern was for the drinkers. Eleanor had told Melody and Deirdre that the tavern would be the place where they could find what they needed. When people were drunk, they tended to be easier to coerce.

And so, the trio were in the tavern now, surrounded by shouting, dancing and cheering people who cramped up the entire space and made it feel incredibly warm, humid and musty. The smell of sweat and perspiration hung heavily in the air, mixed in with the scent of strong alcohol, forming a rather horrid stench. But no one really seemed to care. The tavern was dimly lit by a couple of lanterns hanging on the walls, and one on the bar counter where the bartender was furiously whipping up drinks for all the patrons - he'd declared it all on the house. No wonder it was so crowded.

The three girls had their fair share of being thanked and paraded around, much to Melody and Deirdre's discomfort. Eleanor though, evidently enjoyed being adored and at the centre of attention. The fact that Melody and Deirdre were being cheered and put on a pedestal wasn't all that surprising to Melody. No. The most surprising - or shocking - thing was that Eleanor, of all people, was being cheered for having a hand in their liberation. It didn't seem to matter to the Mon Solrak locals that she'd been the Empress before, the tyrant who'd set the soldiers on them in the first place. They only cared that she'd stood alongside them in the fight for freedom. And frankly, that was something Melody couldn't wrap her head around, and neither could Deirdre.

"I don't get it," Deirdre grumbled as she and Melody sat at a small, round table in the corner of the dimly lit tavern. She slurped from whatever drink the bartender had recommended her - a dark brown mixture that Melody could smell from where she sat. "Not that I'm jealous or anything. Hell, you know I hate being in the spotlight."

"I know. And you're not alone." Melody tipped her own mug. It was bitter and rather strong, not watered down by ice cubes. This was her third round, and already she was beginning to feel slightly tipsy. Just the thing she needed to take the edge off the battle and dull her senses a little, at least for one night. "I don't understand it either."

"If anyone should be celebrated, it's you," Deirdre went on gruffly. "You were the one who came up with the plan and led the charge."

"No. I'm no hero," She finished the contents of her mug and set it down with a sigh, reaching for the bottle for a refill. "I'm no hero."

Shaking her head, Deirdre slurped from her mug again loudly and glared across the bar at her younger sister who was still at the centre of attention. "Maybe they just don't know the atrocities she's committed."

"Oh, we know." An elderly woman at the table beside them said in strongly accented English. "We are all aware of who she is, and what she has done."

Melody was taken aback, and turned her chair to face the woman, who wore thinning grey hair and a thick shawl around her neck, an easy smile on her wrinkled features. "You can speak English?"

"Yes. But not many of us up here in the mountains can. We are a dying breed." The woman gave her a warm but sorrowful smile.

"I"m sorry," Deirdre pulled her chair up closer so that they wouldn't have to shout over the din. "You said you all knew who she is and what she's done."

"Yes."

"Then how can you still put her on a pedestal and act like she's not the Empress?" Melody continued on Deirdre's behalf. "How do you just ignore the fact that she's the one who put you all in this situation in the first place?"

"Ah," The woman drawled, pausing to sip tea. "That's the beauty of it all, don't you think?"

Melody glanced sidelong at Deirdre, who returned it with equal bafflement. "I'm sorry, we don't follow."

"Maybe it is different where you come from," The woman said slowly, her eyes watching the celebration at the centre of the tavern. "But here in Mon Solrak, our culture is built upon forgiveness. Our people believe in second chances. We believe in redemption."

The word 'redemption' made Melody's heart skip a beat. It brought her back to her eighteen year old self who'd been wishing for a chance to redeem herself. It made her remember a dark haired, once naive girl who'd made mistakes and desperately wished an opportunity would arise where she could atone for her transgressions and be a hero. And all of a sudden, that girl didn't seem all too different from Eleanor.

"We have a practice here in the mountains," the old woman went on. "People who were once marked as criminals are released months, sometimes years before their sentence is up. We allow them back into society and give them jobs. We do our best to make them feel at home, reintegrate them into the Mon Solrak community."

The old woman paused to sip tea again and catch her breath, coughing politely before going on. "The point is to give these transgressors a chance to reform. Because if we do not, then no one will. If they do not die in prison, they finish their sentence and emerge the same as before. Time will not make a man good. No," she smiled. "But acceptance will. Forgiveness will. We accept that what's happened has happened, and we move on together as one people."

Melody nodded. She understood now. Looking up at Eleanor who was heartily sharing a rather bawdy joke and hearing the men and women around her roaring in laugher, she saw not a war criminal who deserved to be left for dead. No. She saw a girl much like she had been, in need of a second chance to do the right thing. And having been given that chance, perhaps someone as cruel and cold hearted as Eleanor had been could change too.

"Thank you," Deirdre said, glancing back at her sister. Perhaps it was beginning to dawn on Deirdre too.

Melody subtly watched Deirdre as she continued to drink from her mug. The fiery sorceress had been a villain once. They'd been on opposite sides before. But Deirdre, along with the rest of the League, had been given a chance to make amends and be a force for good. And only with that chance had they become the heroes that they were now.

Doubt began to creep back into Melody. But I'm no hero. Not anymore, at least. It's a wonder I even survived today, because I should've been dead. The emotions she'd been bottling up threatened to burst out, and Melody stood up quickly.

"Sorry. Excuse me," Melody stood up and hurriedly squeezed past the locals, heading straight for the exit. Emerging from the packed tavern, she was met by a draught of brisk wind and snow. It hadn't stopped snowing yet. But this time, it was a welcome change of environment.

There was nothing but darkness outside the tavern apart from the randomly spaced out oil lamps hanging outside the houses. Ducking behind the tavern, Melody found a spot in the shadows and sunk into the snow, her back slumped against the outer wall of the tavern. She removed her bow and quiver and tossed them on the snow pile beside her.

Here, alone, she suddenly felt like she could be vulnerable. Perhaps it was the drink. Or perhaps the short reprieve from battle and danger was letting her confront her emotions. Either way, she allowed the tears to run freely down her face, feeling them grow cold on her cheeks. Her shoulders heaved uncontrollably as she allowed her pent up grief, anger and fears consume her. Frankly, she was a little confused as to why she was crying. She'd been in battles before, and even though she'd come close to death on more than a few occasions, she had never broken down afterwards. This was new to her, and very unsettling.

"The Melody I know doesn't leave the party to brood in the shadows by herself," Maui mused, looking down at the discarded bow and quiver. "Or toss her best weapons away."

"Well maybe I'm not the Melody you used to know," Melody shook her head, cheeks wet with tears. "Go away. I don't feel like doing this now."

"You're probably forgetting that you're the one who brought me here," Maui glanced round. "Looks like you guys won. So why are you crying?"

"I'm not going to talk about it with you!" She shouted angrily. "You're just a figment of my imagination. What good is it going to do talking to you? You're just reminding me of my guilt." She closed her eyes tightly. "Get out of here. And don't come back." Opening her eyes, she was relieved to see that she was alone again. Alone to brood, to be consumed by her sorrow. It's what I deserve.

She sat in the darkness, content with finally being alone at last. But a minute of silence was all that Melody was allowed before a familiar, blonde figure came round the corner looking for her.

"Hey," Deirdre stood before her with a bottle in hand. She held it out to Melody. "I think you forgot this."

Melody looked up at Deirdre. In the darkness, she was sure that Deirdre couldn't see her tear and snot-stained face, though the sorceress had obviously heard her sniffling and crying softly in the shadows. Silently, she took the bottle from Deirdre and averted her eyes.

Deirdre sat down beside her. "Want to tell me what's going on with you? Normally I wouldn't care less about anyone else's problems but…" she trailed off with a scowl.

"What makes you think there's anything wrong with me?"

"You might be good at tactics and fighting, but you've never been very good at hiding when something's wrong. So tell me."

"Why can't any of you just leave it alone?" Melody mumbled.

"What?"

"You don't see him, do you?" Melody asked. "In your dreams? Or when you're wide awake?"

Deirdre cocked her head, eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"Maui doesn't haunt you, does he?" Melody shook her head. "Figures. You weren't the one who killed him."

"You see him alive?" Deirdre shifted closer to her. "Is that what's wrong?"

"You want to know what's wrong?" Melody set down the bottle hard. She snatched up her bow and an arrow, nocking it and drawing the bowstring back. "You see that signboard there?"

Deirdre nodded. The tavern signboard was impossible to miss, what with its name scrawled in large, inconsistent print across the wooden plank.

Melody loosed the arrow, and it flew wide, soaring beyond the signboard and falling into the snow a good distance away. "Now you see what's wrong?" She tossed her bow back into the snow. "How do you explain that?" She held out both of her shaking hands for Deirdre to see. "And how do you explain this?"

Deirdre remained silent at least half a minute. "I knew something was wrong but I never would've known it was this."

"What's happened to me?" Melody slumped back down, looking at her hands which trembled uncontrollably. "I can't shoot straight for shit, my damn emotions are getting out of hand, and I get panicky and have cold sweat whenever I think about a fight. I…I don't understand." She ran a hand through her hair and sniffled. "This has never happened to me before."

Deirdre looked at her silently, as though she was trying to find a suitable response but couldn't.

"It's like I'm a shade of my former self." Melody went on miserably, blinking back tears and sniffling again. "I could barely save Eleanor. I could barely save myself. My worst nightmare has come true. I've become a liability, no better than the twelve year old girl who screwed everything up and endangered two kingdoms and her loved ones," She let out a shuddering breath. "I'm not a hero. Not anymore."

"Shit," Deirdre muttered under her breath. She had a disturbed and haunted look on her face, as one would have when remembering a traumatic memory. Finally, she spoke in a quiet voice. "I think I know what's going on."

"Please," Melody wiped her face with the back of her sleeve and took a long pull from the bottle.

"You already know this, but back when I was a teenager, my parents learnt that I was a sorceress and abandoned me to the doctors and scientists. They tortured and experimented on me like an animal to find out what was wrong with me," Deirdre paused to draw in a deep breath and wiped away a tear of her own. "And…and I remember overhearing the doctors talking about another patient and they mentioned this thing they called Inyetov. In English, I think it translates to a stress disorder or something."

Melody turned to face Deirdre. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I think you suffered some form of trauma after we were beaten by the emperor and Maui…died." Deirdre lowered her voice. "What happened that day, it must have taken a heavy toll on you unlike ever before. I mean, I would feel guilty too if I had to…do it."

"I don't understand. You're saying I was traumatised after that day?"

"I think so."

"But I've been in other battles where we've lost before."

"But never one like this." Deirdre averted her eyes. "We lost a close friend. Remember when Jordan died? How Jade reacted to it?"

Melody nodded.

"I guess people cope with it differently. It prompted Jade to do whatever it took to get her brother back. For you, when Maui died, it must have presented itself as survivor's guilt…or just guilt," Deirdre said cautiously. "I grieved too, but evidently you got hit a lot harder."

"So all this is a result of trauma?" Melody looked down at her trembling hands. "The guilt that I survived and Maui didn't? Or the guilt that I was the one who killed one of my oldest friends?"

"I…I suppose it could be both."

"Then when will it go away?" Melody clenched her fists. "How do I make this go away? How do I stop seeing him everywhere I go?"

Deirdre hesitated and looked away. "I suffered from Inyetov too after years of being tortured and experimented on. That fear I felt every time I saw someone who could hurt me," Her voice grew tighter. "But I dealt with my trauma the wrong way. I agreed to become a murderous weapon for the League. Ingrid Grendstav turned me into her assassin, and I was okay with it. But it's wrong." She shook her head and turned back to Melody, the sorceress' eyes glistening with tears. "If there's anyone who can find a way to deal with the trauma better than I can, it's you. You can do better. You can find a way to make it right."

Tears pressed against Melody's eyes again and she blinked, letting them roll down her cheeks again. "I don't know if I can."

In a rare show of affection, Deirdre enveloped her in a hug. She allowed Melody to cry on her shoulder, holding her tightly and resting her head gently against Melody's. "I can't pretend to know how you should do it." She whispered. "But I'll be here for you if you need me."

Melody squeezed the fiery sorceress tightly. "Thank you," She extricated herself from the embrace and inhaled deeply, wiping her face again. It was sticky with snot and tears, and she took some snow from the ground and patted it on her face. Exhaling deeply, she got to her feet and took the bottle with her. "We should check on Eleanor."

Nodding, Deirdre followed Melody back into the tavern, which was every bit as crowded as when they'd left it. The two girls found Eleanor sitting in front of the bar counter, doing shots with a stocky woman who looked to be twice her size. The locals had broken off into their own social circles, laughing and talking amongst themselves and giving Eleanor space after the tribute dedicated to her.

"Eleanor." Melody called out over the commotion.

The girl looked up, setting down her shot glass with a content sigh and the smack of her lips. "Ah, look who's here to join the party?" Eleanor said smilingly, her face red and her eyes slightly unfocused.

Deirdre eyed the stack of shot glasses on the bar counter. "I think you've had enough to drink for one night."

"No, no, no. My new friend and I here are playing a little game. Can't afford to lose now." Eleanor giggled and turned to the stocky woman. Then, as if remembering something important, she sluggishly whirled back to the two of them, her bleary eyes lit up. "Oh, wait! That's right. I found our climbing supplies."

Deirdre glanced at Eleanor's new friend and rattled off a string of words in the native language that Melody couldn't follow. The stocky woman grinned and replied in a deep but friendly voice.

"Can she help us with the climbing gear?" Melody regarded Deirdre.

"She says she can." Deirdre confirmed.

The woman said something else, then turned back to her game with Eleanor.

"She said to come by the Multayvak shop at ten in the morning. She'll give us the supplies we need." Deirdre translated.

"Good, good," Melody gave the stocky woman a nod of gratitude, though she was too busy to notice, already gulping down another shot with Eleanor. She hesitated and watched as Eleanor finished her shot and exclaimed victoriously. "Should we-"

"Yeah," Deirdre grimaced and moved to dislodge her younger sister from the tavern. "We have a long day of climbing ahead of us tomorrow."

Author's Commentary:

When I conceptualised Melody's character arc for this story, I knew that I wanted to take it further than I had before. She's dealt with a longing for redemption (Book 1), getting satisfaction and calling it quits, landing herself back in the fight to save Elsa (Book 2), feeling unequipped to be a leader of her kingdom (Book 3) and finding herself neither truly belonging to a political role or as a Warrior anymore (Book 4).

This time round, I wanted to go deeper in a psychological route. So it surprised me that at the time of this writing when I'm already about halfway through the story, Melody's character arc bears many similarities to Tony Stark's in Iron Man 3. Both suffered from trauma and have to cope and deal with the new threats they face.

I find it rather amusing that there are so many similarities that I never intended to draw between the two characters, but it's funny how it worked out. Still, we're nowhere near done with Melody's arc. I'm rather excited to show you where it goes. Though I did finalise where Melody would end up by the end of this book, I haven't completely figured out the endgame (no pun intended) yet for the close of this trilogy, so we'll see where it goes.

By the way, I will be away for the next two weeks as I'm headed to Japan for a vacation. Hopefully with time away from everything and a change in scenery, I will gain some clarity about what's next after Book 6.