-Three days before the destruction of the Aspey Mortal villages-
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"And move your arms like this!" I shout across the serene lake, powerfully stroking through the water.
Cyra struggles to mimic me, her arms flailing beneath the surface with labor, splashing water all around before she breaks through the surface gasping for air. Her brown hair clings to her face as she frustratingly pushes the strands back behind her ear and out of her dark eyes.
"This isn't working!" she groans. "I'm not one of the merfolk; you know I can't swim. And frankly, it's useless here- I mean when was the last time you needed this?" She mutters, wiping water from her eyes, her gaze flickering down the water. "Maybe over the stream—"
My hands grab her, reaching to cover her mouth before I can even stop them. A feeling I can't place spiking in my chest
"Don't say such words, Cyra." I spit out
Not out here.
Never here.
I forcefully place my hands to my side, suddenly aware of the weight they carry before turning away from her.
"Just because you're young now doesn't mean Mother won't send you on chores that involve water, not just berries," I lecture. "Besides, the last thing I need is for you to drown on my watch. Try again..."
Valoel Lake is usually bustling with other kids for a swim or for food, but with the sun only setting now, it was barren, and besides, the people who think of coming here are often too wary of it to do so.
I've never ventured beyond the village, nor has Cyra. Our maps end at the rushing stream, a boundary none of us have dared to cross. The stories and warnings from our elders have been enough to keep us contained since childhood.
Yet, whispers of what lies beyond have always sparked our curiosity. Some believe it's an empty wasteland; others think it's a haven... or a burning hell that is waiting before them.
And despite the rather strong warning, some dare to leave.
Their bones tend to wash up the stream soon after.
Our father was one of them. Obsessed with the stories of the fae, except for what he called them, a late night in his study turned into weeks, and soon enough he was consumed by it. Knowledge was a dangerous thing, something he craved so very much it turned into an obsession for stories woven from lies and heretics consuming his soul until the man once my father was gone—living is the cursed pages he so worshiped.
So,
Like all great and terrible ballads go, he left and paid his debt to us with his death.
Cyra will not meet the same fate.
The west stream was vital, acting as a barrier across the land; the freezing waters and high mountains only helped us more. Some say it’s been there for centuries, some millennia; our arrival to Aspye was never documented, and the unlucky souls who told their own stories passed on for generations and died with them Leaving the human need for deception to corrupt them. Scrolls were never made, and thus neither was our history. Scrolls were new, and academies were newer; however, only monarchs could study in them, and higher nobles could if they were lucky enough to find their way into the palace
As the sun begins its descent, painting the lake in vivid hues of orange and red, a sigh escapes me. as I wade in the cool water, taking in the peace before the storm after a while... I swim back to the grassy shore, pulling myself up and wringing out my hair. I tie my waist corset over my damp petticoat, feeling the chill of the evening air against my skin, the faint berries filling the air.
Our mother was always a shy woman; granted, she tried her best, but it simply wasn't enough, and after our father passed, her illness sent us out for work instead, which was the only option.
"Cyra, we should head back," I call out, shouldering my basket laden with berries and bread. "It'll be sundown soon, and the last thing we need is to be out here after dark.
Hunters were usually out after dark, and it wouldn’t be the first time a person was mistaken for a beast worth hunting in the woods.
And with the prince's coronation falling on this solstice, there was no doubt that all animals that were spotted here would be slain for a feast.
Cyra pushes herself out of the water, stretching on the land.
"We don't need to leave so soon...." Crya muttered, placing on her robes, "We can't make it to the coronation, so we might as well stay here."
Cyra simply wasn't old enough to attend, but what I think pained her the most was the fact I could
Our family had one court gown, decades old and probably just as worn... But if I never had any use for it, she could at least wear it.
I owed her that much.
I sigh, folding up the picnic blankets. "I'll make you a deal... The day you turn...17...I'll bring you"
Her eyes lit up before a frown overtook them "I'll be dead by then!" She complained, kicking a rock in the lake only for it to sink beneath the currents
But I only laugh, picking a berry from the basket, and throwing it at the back of her head, she groans, her eyes shaping back to mind before I tread down the gravel path laughter seeming to shake the trees as she sprints after me with malice
"Nazira!"
And maybe-
things could be better for her- for us
Just this once.
-----------
Our village is hidden deep in the forest, a secret from the rest of the world. A sanctuary we've never left and a refuge against something we'll never know.
But surprisingly I found peace in it.
Cyra never did- and that frightened me more than I could ever admit, more than my soul would ever utter even under the dark cover of the night I so very clung to
As the sun set, we walked through the gravel through the tall pine trees, the sun shining through the branches and onto the dirt path.
The sky is scattered with stars by the time we finally reach the outskirts of Kritia.
Home.
------
"You're insane...." Ruc says, eyeing my drenched clothes as she empties our baskets into their boxes. "You're lucky it's not winter—thank the gods you haven't frozen your little sister to death.
He hands the few coins to Cyra "Good job, Kid. Now get home before you both freeze to death." Ruc rising back up, slipping a few extra coins into my pocket before I can protest, winking before turning to the next group. Cyra , practically skipping down the dirt pathway, passing me "Don't stay up to late-"
"Yes- I know I know"
I sigh, leaning on hard marble pillar
During the night Kritia was more active than ever, hidden under the dark cover of the night. New shifts begin from harvesting to hunting. lit the torches surrounding the city in foolish bravery whipping and flashing it the harsh winds, . Laughter of the village traveling down the dirt paths from the tavern music coming from the old brick building, no doubt another celebration of this solstice
On one hand, I was exhausted, and only the gods know how much work there's left to do....
But I had to do this- just one more time.
Cyra deserved more time with her, more than I ever did
The heavy wooden door groaned as I pushed it open, the dim glow of the tavern spilling out into the cool night air. A murmur ran through the room, the clinking of mugs and harsh laughter filling my ears.
The tavern was a labyrinth of weathered wood, its planks silvered from years of drunken dancing and brothels.
It was best that I finished this quickly...I knew the more I came here, the worse it would get.
I squeeze past the crowd towards an empty hall. The walls covered in portraits and candles, ash filling the air, I quickly walk towards the lone room at the end of the hall.
I look behind me before reaching for the golden knob.
"Well, speak of the devil!"
Gods give me strength.
I sigh before quickly turning towards him. "Shouldn't you be out with the rest of your gang?"
But to my annoyance, he only laughs and tilts his head to the side with a mocking gaze that's been tormenting me since childhood.
Theo turned his head towards a group as drunk as him.
"That gang?" He looks back at her. "I think they're out of commission tonight; besides, we worked overtime before. I think we'll be fine for tonight, Nazira."
While Theo Alizin acted like the captain of the hunters, it was really Amira's, which only made me more ecstatic than I'd care to admit.
Hunters, especially now, are more valuable than ever, which only boosted his ever-growing ego.
"Ha!" A loud voice rang from the other side of the tavern, drawing attention from every side.
Annora's dagger flew into the middle of the worn-down target in front of her, her dagger vibrating from the impact.
She turns to face Amira has a wide grin on her face.
"I believe that's six to two. Perhaps I'll be taking your role soon enough. She laughed, eyeing her sister with victorious glee.
While most people didn't leave the town, selling food and trinkets for silver like my parents once did, those sisters, as well as their parents, always craved the honor that came with the jobs that eventually gave them titles in court that so many envied them for.
Not that this tavern had much honor left in it.
Theo looked back at me. his brow raised as he looked at me, seemingly noticing the wet gown sticking to my skin.
Calm yourself; it's nothing.
"I slipped."
"Really?" He says, mockery filling his voice, and to his most likely dismay, he sheds his coat and hands it to me.
Gods
"Well, at least you're not a complete scoundrel." I muttered, yanking the coat from him.
"I've been called worse, Nazira." He crossed his arms.
Understood, lovely, Now do you mind leaving me be?
I force a smile. my hand twitching towards my dagger And as much as I'd want to kill him—his father owned this place—
Suddenly the door opened.
"Nazira! I didn't know you were visiting so late—you as well, son!" Mr. Axlin said, opening the door
"Please come in." He holds the door open, leaning on his black cane for support as I walk through the door. Compared to the rest of the tavern, his study carried a different air to it. The floor creaks with every step I take across the classroom floor as I make my way toward a wooden seat at one of the desks.
The large windows next to me are to the west, allowing the sun to cast a soft glow across the space and illuminating the dust that floats through the air.
My chair is stiff and uncomfortable, with a high back and no rest for my arms.The walls are all lined with bookshelves that are in a semicircle around the front, all filled to the top with tomes.
He hobbles over to the desk, sitting across from me.
"I believe I know why you're here, but if so, I hope you don't always make it so obvious, Nazira."
He reaches under his desk, pulling out a small glass vial and holding it between his fingers. The liquid inside is thick and heavy, glowing lightly.
Finally
Reubens's Elixir
Tomes scratched it out; ballads burned it from their pages, but it was here.
Brewed from Wisp Wrappings, Nordic Barnacle, Burnt Spriggan Wood Only my father could afford enough to pay for it, but when he died, my mother only grew sicker, colder.
But this—this could change everything.
She just needed time, and it was in front of me
I quickly reach into my pocket, placing the silver coins on his desk.
"I'm sure this will be enough... Sir." I muttered.
His eyes fell to the few coins, his eyes curious and studious.
"Very well..." He passes the vial to me, and I almost grab it from his hands. before he pulls back
My heart drops
"Listen carefully....Keep this to yourself. Don't let anyone see you with it." he rolls the vial across the desk and I catch it before shoving it in my pack
I stand from my chair, curtsying towards him, running towards the door. "Thank you, sir—truly." I grab the doorknob before he stops me.
"And Nazira..."
I turn to him, my heart still pounding
"If you tell a soul I'll have your head"
I stiffen
He looks down at the pen between his fingers carelessly
"Good luck Nazira, I only hope whatever you're doing is worth it."
---------
I hand over my bags at the front door, kick off my boots, and lock up behind me. Our home illuminated by a flickering fireplace, no doubt in need of wood, leaving the living room in a tainted glow
Crya was already in bed no doubt, leaving the house in eerily good science, preparing for the winter holidays ahead and the fuss that came with it.
She could finally have her mother back; she could have the mother I had.
I walk toward the living room but freeze before I can reach it.
When our mother fell ill, she couldn't even bear to speak or even utter a word her body gave up on her, leaving her a husk of the woman she was.
And yet.
I peek over the door frame, straining to hear the mumbled conversation.
"Please..." Mother whispers, her voice barely audible, thick with uncertainty I've never heard her voice bear. "I know the terms—I know what I have to finish."
Stubbornly, her voice fades in and out until there's only eerie silence, leaving only the fire cracking in the distance.
Then, another voice joins in, more powerful than the flames.
"And this—this is what you want? We may be powerful but not unconquerable, my dear." The disdain in his voice makes my skin crawl. "They could both die for all I care—but you? You're either incredibly selfless or exceedingly cruel. Unless you forgot his sacrifices for you to even be in this shell of a home with... those... children."
"You have no right to speak for them. I have paid my price. Have I not done enough? For the Monarchy, you say to "honor—" Mother's voice rings out, sharp and desperate, more than I thought possible. Before it hardens, "I have done all I can... I have not forgotten his...kindness... But he'd do best to remember mine."
"Careful—" The voice only grew darker, "The figure only drawing closer to her, and "Watch your tongue. You may have fooled him once, maybe the whole court for that matter, but I am not as forgiving or gullible as you believe, Lucia."
Lucia....?
"I?" She scoffs, "I did what was necessary, what you failed to do: make them believe what they like, but those children will not be part of it, and I will make sure of it."
In that, a tense moment of silence follows until she breaks the silence.
"So, to my understanding, it is settled...we have a deal, and it is the same as it was before. They will stay in Aspye until I see fit... Am I being clear enough for you, Lord?"
"......We have a deal," he says, his eyes narrowing. “I only hope you plan on upholding it.
His heavy footsteps lead towards the exit behind me. I look around frantically—I couldn’t leave; they’d hear the doors. He nears the corner, and I scurry into the pantry, squeezing myself inside as much as I can, yanking at the stubborn door to close behind me, shaking the metal compartment before it slams shut, the metal echoing through the cabin as he turns the corner.
But the vial drops to the ground before then, rolling under the counter.
Please just keep walking. Please just keep walking. Please just keep walking. Please just—
His footsteps stop as he reaches for the knob, his hands griping around it before his eyes trained on the handle of the pantry and
-and the glowing elixir, he lowers himself to the ground, picking the vial up into his hands. the liquid swishing in his hands
No, no, no, no, no.
His gaze stops on mine, unmoving and unwieldy before me. I cover my mouth before my heart pounds in my chest for what feels like an eternity before he looks away, pushing the door open and the vial in his waistcoat.
"Farewell, my lady... I only hope you don't come to regret your decision."
The house shakes as he slams the door behind him leaving only the sound of grief behind him.
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