#but currently Ive given her a more blue and silver lightning look

[littlegalerion]

Had some fun with character creator.

Heyleth Dawnwalker is my Neverwinter MMO main, who I headcanon as a secret Halsin spawn (he isn't aware of). She is also currently an NPC in my group's campaign. We'll see if she actually makes it out alive under the party's supervision.

Then we come to... Calista, her mother.

One of the main villains of the current arc in our campaign.

Lots under here about the campaign, if interested.

Think Mother Gothel. but add on the fact she's a black dragon that successfully tortured lycanthropes until she obtained their cursed (or blessed) magic that allows them to shapeshift, bent said magic in horrible ways, made herself a "were-elf". and bagged the young druid who's face she wanted to "preserve".

Yeah, Halsin went out of his way to defend a bog once from dragon hunters, knowing there was a black dragon lair there. He didn't care, but insisted he wasn't going to let them defile the bog. The ecosystem there was thriving. A full on battle with a seemingly "quiet" black dragon could end up shaking that.

To be fair, Calista purposefully kept the bog innocent in appearance. Keeping up appearances was important to her. Kept the rabble out.

The fact that what Halsin did actually worked amused Calista to no end, and so she decided to test out her new found abilities by wooing a young Halsin and making sure she concieved a child with him.

To her delight, she got Heyleth- who wasn't born a half dragon. Oh, there was definately a dragon within her, but thanks to the perverse magic Calista used for her unqiue lycanthropy, Heyleth was born more elf than anything.

Heyleth was always meant to stay a trophy- the daughter of the idiot druid that allowed Calista to escape a well deserved end. As you can see, she inherited Halsin's looks to a degree. Calista always adored that fact. It made raising her to become her mother's servant all the more special.

The end goal of all this was Calista whole heartedly planned to have more offspring with men she considered "worthy". She'd then attatch her soul onto generation after generation, making her mortal lineage her unconventional phylactery. Each generation would provide strong descendants Calista could asorb power from upon their deaths, thus making her more and more unstoppable.

As of right now in the campaign, she's still choosing her suitors. She sits as a Queen in a city she stole herself, having enslaved the populance with her magic to make them forget their lives before she siezed power. The party currently is aware she is a necromancer, and that she is clearly evil. They attempted to kidnap Heyleth, as they recieved info from another NPC that Heyleth was the key to Calista's plans. Calista found out and stopped them, and banished them from her city. So now they're looking for allies in the nearby towns and settlements for those who would go up against her.

They have no idea she is a black dragon lich.

Luckily, no one from group is on here, so I can write about this.

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Blood Curse Chapter 28

Find this on wattpad and on ao3

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

chapter 29

Final chapter

Mare POV

The march begins in two days hence, but Iris Cygnet already stands on the frontline-to-be like a raised flag. It’s because of her cape, long and waving in the wind. In hindsight, that piece of clothing alone should’ve given her away when I saw her first. Who wears a blue cape with such intricate design and embroidery, more-so in a war-camp? Not that it’s indecently sumptuous, only richly made. Apparently, Iris can’t wait for the enemy to see her, or she merely likes to pose majestically as she faces the direction we’re going to take. Maybe they aren’t as of much of an enemy to her as to us, as they’re Lakelanders, her citizens. Yet she’s too careful to rely alone on their knowledge of their princess and their loyalty to her, as she wears functional black armour beneath the conspicuous cape. She wears both all the time, whether she walks over battlefields or in the camp, either leading or training our nymphs. By now, I’ve finally seen what Iris can do with rain and it left me believing in the claims she made to our leaders, promising to breach the enemy lines which we – so far –  failed do on our own.

After she arrived, on a meeting I took part in, Iris conveyed this eloquently without saying it all too plain. She sat in her chair like it was a throne, flanked by Captain Ives, the companion who brought her who’s also Roman Eagrie’s new brother-in-law. That was strange enough, not even to speak of the apparent trust Iris put in the Red-blooded Ives. The commanders, meanwhile, tried their best to hide their own confusion when dealing with the ex-queen of Norta, now the crown princess of the Lakelands.

“When I pledged to the Scarlet Guard recently,” Iris said, “it was decided it’d be for the best if I joined these fights. That aligned with my own intentions, I admit. I’m offering you my powers in the ways you see fit, Generals, but I think to be the greatest asset among your own nymphs, teaching – and eventually – leading them.”

Her polite tone was met by dark expressions, me contributing my part. She wasn’t swayed by them. “Not to forget I know how to work against the tactics my mother and her generals use, so this stalemate will be over before it drags on as long as before.”

Akkadi took a sharp breath. “As if you’re the only capable one here, ma’am? We’re to rely on your word to sabotage your own mother and not us?”

Iris swallowed, hesitating, pondering. “Indeed,” she agreed. “Indeed. If it soothes your suspicions, I did come with requests relating to my support.”

The room, curious for more, lost a little tension as if this was only to be expected. Silvers with “requests” were familiar ground.

Iris noticed this too. I saw her take Ives’s hand in the shadows under the table. “Firstly, I wish to negotiate with my mother in person. I’m certain you realize the advantage of that.”

I heard a few people starting to mumble. “Her fault for vanishing and provoking the water witch to run rampart.”

Iris continued, mostly unperturbed but aware of the lack of an answer. “Secondly, I want my mother’s life to be spared.”

“Ma’am,” Davidson prepared to object. But he hardly knew how to address her, ma’am being an acceptable cop-out. “That is a lot to ask, given her recent acts – “

“Weren’t it your allies, the Samos of the Rift, who instigated this?” Iris countered. “They attacked the Lakelands. Apparently, you let them. I wonder how Volo Samos convinced you, he and his family never seemed like the diplomatic sort to me.” She smiled. “Or that is just my impression, as they were never interested in being diplomatic and allying with me.

“However, I promise you to do better than them. I will settle this, and I will convince my mother to bring the peace as we intended to a year ago. And yes, that will include all of you, the Red activists of the Scarlet Guard. I can think of ways – “

“So you plan to keep your power and the rank of a crown princess, and queen-to-be?” Davidson inquired.

“That is not my plan.” Several gasps. From me, too. I couldn’t believe someone like her would be serious about this, and not only sweet-talk us like those before her. “My mother the queen,” she went on, “is the head of the church of our country, and she’ll act accordingly. To preserve and … to reform, too. Currently, she’s acting as a secular ruler which the head is usually supposed to leave to appointed politicians. She chose to change this for … family reasons, which you all know, my father and sister having been those appointed rulers. Yet, I see no reason why people like you should not replace the old agents so you can take your share in governing the Lakelands. There is no law forbidding this.”

“Now that is an offer, ma’am.” Davidson appeared duly smug. “Although you still sound very conservative.”

Iris blinked. “It is an offer, Premier Davidson. I wouldn’t presume to set this in motion without your advice, or the approval of the citizens of the Lakelands.” She looked around, scanning the room filled with potential enemies. “I do wish to preserve … some things,” she admitted. “Our faith, our traditions. Is that too much to ask?” She became more passionate with every word – which also revealed a subtle insecurity on her part. “There’re Lakelanders in this war, in this room. Do you wish to destroy our culture, hoping that alone will make everything better? I do not believe we need to shatter and forget the past to build anew, and therefore, I wish my mother to live – and repent.” A pleading note entered her voice. “If you cooperate, there’ll be amnesty for all Lakelander members of the Scarlet Guard.”

It was a wrong thing to say, angering the Lakelanders she tried to appeal to. Why would we need her amnesty if we won? Then again, did we have the certainty to win? What would Farley have said to her?

“You’re praising a faith that benefits you, your highness,” a soldier sneered and this, finally, took Iris aback. She flinched.

“I … won’t continue to demand those benefits for myself. I swear,” she insisted. “The succession of religious leaders will be reorganized, too. I won’t take such a position. You understand, the defining features of the faith are not about division.”

“They aren’t?” someone scoffed.

Iris straightened. “No.”

“I’ve never heard – “

“Comrades, please,” a soldier from the Lakelands intervened. “It’s true. The faith is about the divinity surrounding us, in ourselves, in nature, in every moment. The Silvers spill their own nonsense to cement their rule, but when they argue with the faith, they’re kidnapping it.” And although the soldier cleared the ground for Iris with this, she had some glares left for Iris, too. “Not that we don’t expect you to live up to those grand promises, ma’am.”

Iris nodded, meeting her gaze. “Thank you, ma’am. Indeed, I’d claim to be too honourable to make empty promises.” She stood up. “But no matter what I say, I can only step forward as one of many. It won’t mean anything if no one follows. I can walk in the front of the battles to come, but it’s your choice to come with me.

“Will you follow me?”

What would’ve happened if they’d remained silent? The moment dragged on long enough to make me wonder. But I was one of those to raise a hand, and the affirmative calls began which Iris answered with her own, quiet, “rise, red as the dawn.”

I knew I couldn’t trust her words. But I trust in what she can do.

„What storm we could make together, Sergeant Barrow,” Iris says to me. She must’ve noticed me sneaking around her after the end of my shift. It was an early end, due to the preparations for the coming charge. Although I’ve been lurking for days, only not as near as today.

Now I close the distance between us, done with playing pretend. Yet she doesn’t turn to me at first, heavily focused on conjuring shapes out of the water and fluids in the air around us, that is, maybe in a radius of 25 meters. When she looks at me over her shoulder, the patterns she made freeze for a second, before, with a swing of her arm, they change from “shields” and “arrows” into stylized lightning. Or a liquid cage.

She tilts her head. “Wouldn’t we?”

I scoff. “I’m not sure,” I reply. “The wind element’s still missing, isn’t it? Or is that the ability of your friend Ives?”

She shakes her head. “Technically …” She smiles. “No, he couldn’t.”

“You really like him? I’m surprised, Iris.” She’s stunned too, at my use of her first name. “I thought you royals don’t have friends, much less Red ones.”

The personal topic flusters her visibly and as she fights to maintain her composure, I expect her to just send me off. Yet I’m amused, enjoying to unsettle a Silver royal. Because she’s one, no matter what she announces. She must be used to this by now and swallows a breath. “He brought me here, and helped me out before. He became a friend to me.” She shrugs. “I assume you can understand that.”

I don’t really, but I respect her unspoken plea for privacy on that. To a point. “Certainly.” I smile back. “But I’m merely wondering, like so many here, what it was he helped you with, which kept you missing for so long.”

“I see. This is another trial about trust.” She stares at me while no muscle in my face moves. The water continues its play. Iris sighs. “I feel inclined to remind you I’m here by choice, on my own account, and allying with your cause.”

“An alliance you let us pay for dearly.”

“Have I asked for any untoward conditions?” She’s less calm now, for her standards. “All I’ve brought up I did believing it’d benefit the Scarlet Guard in the end.”

The watery shapes turn back into a shield and attack pattern, as if with the lightning pattern gone, our conversation is over. But Iris doesn’t even turn away from me. She continues to fixate with her gaze until I’m the one to give in. “Why would you think,” she begins, quieter now, “I haven’t paid dues on my own for the peace I wish for?”

I can’t avoid to snicker. “Excuse me,” I say. “But that’s something I know a lot about.”

The corners of her mouth twitch. “If we have finally something in common, why not use this common ground as a reason to return to my request?” I blink. “To call forth a storm?” she adds.

I shrug, then start to show off some of the tricks I learned from Ella. But despite Iris’s talk of a common ground, she revealed nothing about what she claims to have given up, although I can imagine enough, especially in case of someone who came too close to Maven Calore.

Merciless rains fall during our march. The dark and grey sky forebodes the coming battle and the air feels charged with electricity, whether from a gathering storm or just from my ability I can’t say. It certainly erases any easiness in our approach, with water soaking our clothes, tents and food. Our boots often stay stuck in the mud. But to march we have as our schedule is tight, decisively so. We’re supposed to sneak closer to the Lakelander camp for a surprise attack as long as our own location remains unknown.

“I wonder if Lakelanders conjured this bloody weather!” Kilorn curses.

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” I reply in agreement. The rain feels like a threat on its own, like a poison, a noose about to strangle us.

“That is unlikely.” Kilorn and I jerk when we hear General Akkadi joining our talk. Iris Cygnet walks next to her, no doubt trying to glean as much information as possible.

“The General is right,” she agrees. “The stormcallers of the Lakelands could do this in theory, but not for so long. Not when they don’t know our exact location. Rather they would create fog or a storm right before the battle begins.”

“What a smart-ass,” Kilorn whispers and I elbow him while suppressing my own snicker.

“Let’s hope this warning will help us when the time comes,” I say.

Iris nods. “Then, we’ll all work together to spring our own trap.”

Even on the trek scouting remains a necessity. Still I’m in a team with Roman Eagrie and keep my lightning ready for a charge. But this night has a different kind of tension, when our attention is as vital while we’re much less safe.

Eagrie touches my arm. “Hush, stop,” he whispers. My eyes widen and I summon lightning in my fingertips while keeping it weak enough to hide it from view. Eagrie takes his rifle off his back, aims and shoots four times in one fluid motion.

“Done?” I murmur.

He checks for a few more seconds, then relaxes. “Yes.”

“You’re a good shooter,” I say as we go to look for the bodies.

He smiles wrily. “It helps when you know you’ll hit the target.” The four enemy scouts are certainly dead but I don’t feel at ease yet. Instead, a sense of danger lingers on my mind. Even more so when the leaves of the woods rustle.

I shove Eagrie aside and create a lightning shield before the Lakelander can assault us. But the person appearing isn’t a Lakelander, at least not an enemy one. I tsk. “You’ve scared us, Princess Iris,” I say sarcastically although my heart still beats fast. “Or did you want them to take you with them?”

She shakes her head and comes closer. Amusement shines in her eyes, even in the dim torch light. At least she can get a joke. “Well done,” she says. “But their absence will send its own kind of message to their commander.”

I shrug.

“To answer your question, Sergeant Barrow,” she says, “no. I didn’t intend that. Yes, I plan to negotiate but a battle is unavoidable. It’ll be to the advantage of the Scarlet Guard as well to fight one.”

“If we win,” I object.

She nods. “I believe you’ll be vital to that victory. Good night.” She turns to leave, her cape dragging on the wet ground. Does the clamminess even bother her? Then she stops. “I wonder, Sergeant, why you chose to fight.” She points to the sky. “It was decided one electricon has to stay back to keep up with the interceptions of the airjets, as a distraction.” That’s true, Tyton’s the one. “That could’ve been you,” Iris goes on, “and yet you’re here.”

She seems frankly curious, but I’m not in the mood for banter and chatting. “I’m fed up with people making decisions for me, and I rather fight my battles myself.”

“I’m sure of that.” She looks at me, expectant, understanding. I almost wait for her to apologize for being complicit in my imprisonment, and a thousand other matters.

“Can I make a request?” she asks.

I raise an eyebrow. “Another one?”

The corners of her mouth twitch. “Just a last one, please,” she says. I wave a hand.

It replaces her amusement with earnestness. “I’d be grateful if you told me whether you killed Maven,” she asks. “Or whether he’s alive at all, if you knew.”

I suck in a breath. She craves to know this and her eyes are adamant, demanding an answer. I hate how I freeze when he’s mentioned. Iris notices and lowers her head respectfully. She gives me a moment but doesn’t apologize or waves it off.

“I have not,” I spit out. “You should ask Tiberias. Didn’t you leave behind him with his brother?”

She almost bows this time. “I thank you, Mare Barrow.” I shrug, swallow the topic before it can fester in my mind. Now she takes her leave for good, and raindrops follow, forming into swivels like an aethereal train. So ostentatious, a showiness Maven would’ve liked.

Breaks are soggy affairs, as is sleep. Whether we walk or rest, the rain is an incessant nuisance. In our sleeping bags, I cuddle against Kilorn to fight the clamminess with body warmth, with Rafe on his other side.

“Look,” Rafe says, pointing to white lightning in the distance. “It’s Tyton in action.”

I smile. “Good to know.”

Rafe sighs. “Too bad we can’t answer him.”

I nod. “Soon, he’ll see us as well.” Soon, when the real battle starts.

The call comes too soon. The camp rises, everyone runs to get into formation. “Seems like the Lakelanders found us first,” pants Nadine. “That demands operation B2, Barrow!”

“Sure!” I nod and we head to our respective units. The thrill of the coming battle courses through me, mixing fear and excitement.

Now it happens.

General Akkadi organizes the troops like a conductor, setting everyone in place according to the plans and her absolute foresight. She nods to me, pointing to my position at the front line. I swallow and go on, searching my way through the crowd and seeing more of the enemy with every step. Fortunately, we have the higher ground, standing on the upper end of the slope they’re climbing. At the foot of the hill, fog gathers and clouds the expanse of their army.

But their nymphs are at the front, as planned, already threatening to destroy our advantage in position by, once again, pulling away the ground beneath our feet. The mud only makes that easier

Our nymphs are prepared for this charge, about to counter the Lakelanders by interfering with their own control over the element. As a result, the water supposed to wash us away and flood the camp is turned into a whirlwind gyrating around the frontlines, more and more resembling the eye of a storm.

Akkadi barks several commands to get us into place, calling back armed soldiers while Rafe and I step forward on both ends of our vanguard, the nymphs between us, and only waiting for Akkadi’s next order. She’s still scanning the whole of the battlefield, assessing the perfect moment. Terrifying seconds drag on and current tickles my skin. Yet when the call comes, I hesitate. Am I ready for this? Are the nymphs? If this goes wrong …

I release my breath and stop thinking, I fall to my knees and put my hands onto the ground, into a puddle. And then, I let loose all the electricity I can summon, once, twice, until nothing is left.

The current, both from me and Rafe, is conducted by the muddy earth and swirls of water controlled by our nymphs, leading directing towards the enemy. They can’t get away, first paralysed by the shocks and soon killed by them.

I sink into the mud, wholly depleted. But it was a success, the majority of the enemy vanguard is down as well, unconscious or electrocuted. Akkadi shouts again, urging me to rise as we have no time to spare when timing is absolute. I have to get up, and now our gunners step forward to shoot anyone still standing. Yet as I move, my eyes stray over our nymphs, searching for losses. By Akkadi’s visions and command, they should’ve known when to sever the physical link to the water conduits to stay safe, but I might’ve just as well taken down some of our own.

“Help!” someone cries, and m head spins. There they are, my victims. I can’t run past them, so I go straight to the source. Iris Cygnet was the one who called, and she bends over an unconscious nymph, grabbing a knife to cut through his uniform and start to massage his chest.

“I don’t think he needs any more electricity, Sergeant Barrow,” she hisses.

“No,” I say. “I’m sorry – careful!” I shout, and she looks up to see the Lakelander soldier heading towards us.

Iris curses. She lets go of the nymph and fumbles for a gun; she shoots just in time but the Lakelander outstretches a hand and the bullet dissolves in a heat wave.

An oblivion.

I try to call my lightning but it’s still too soon – nothing happens. Iris spills another surge of curses in her native tongue and gather a water wall as a defense. Still I can feel the next shockwave coming from the oblivion. He forces through, causing Iris to shift her water wall.

“What should we …” I utter, but she already grabs my hand and wraps us in another wave, just before the oblivion shatters the earth and we fall.

I open my eyes with a groan. Now I can add bruises to my exhaustion although I begin to feel again the sparks in my veins. I get up and check my surroundings, now a few hundred meters away form the battle. Not that I can reach it easily, as the ledge we were on has broken off. I find Iris on my other side, bending over the nymph once more. I approach her but her attempts at first aid are over, now she’s murmuring a few verses. Prayers. She doesn’t heed my presence until she’s done.

“Rest in peace, James Huntingdon” she concludes, and focuses on me. She nods. “Good you’ve gotten away as well.”

She stands up, about to get going on. Her stance reflects both weariness and determination, a stance I know all too well, one I force myself into often enough. “What do you intend to do?” I ask.

“Do you want to come with me?” she smiles, wrily. “I go to find my mother, I should be able to guess where she is.”

Of course. “Why should I? Do you want to present me as your prisoner?”

She frowns. “No.”

“You were okay with it before.”

Her lips quiver but don’t produce a straight answer. “I won’t force you into anything, Mare Barrow. You can come with me, or stay with James, or whatever else you think is best.”

When I don’t reply, she turns without looking back.

I let her go, and still I watch her. I shouldn’t, better I focus on a way back. I curse my bad luck at finding myself once again between the lines, unable to just rejoin my unit. Nor do I want to leave James behind. He died because of me, after all, and he deserves better than to be buried in mud.

I head to a higher ground to see more and even climb a tree to find a possible and safe way to return to the fights. Yet the broken ledge is still impossible to scale and I doubt I can carry James all the way round. It’d be safe enough for me though, although it’d also take me a day. I can’t decline my urge to look after Iris as well, as she’s easy to locate in her silly cape. How careless, but if she puts a conspicuous appearance above everything else? In front of her, the main body of the Lakelander army is harder to see. Strange.

Or not. The way the mist parts and gathers has no natural source, I can see that now. It must be controlled by nymphs or stormcallers and Iris is just a few hundred meters away from the fog, already becoming enwrapped in it herself. I doubt her sight is as good as mine, as long as she doesn’t chase off the fog.

So she can’t see he unit separating from the back of the army, marching in the direction of the frontline while hidden by fog and glamour.

“Oh you stupid girl, you’re walking into a trap!” I utter.

But so am I, since I jump off my tree and run after Iris.

I’m about to reach her just as she parts the fog but before I can warn her, its already too late – the soldiers appear from the mist and attack the intruder, unaware it’s their princess. Iris sidesteps as knives fly her way, one of them cutting her hand. The next moment, she’s lifted into the air and swung hard onto the ground.

I drop to the earth, too. Are they telkies? Or magnetrons who use her armour against her? Undecided between crashing into the scene and figuring out a better plan, I watch the enemy leader send their soldiers ahead. They vanish quickly, someone among them restoring their stealth. Their supposed purpose fills me with dread, certainly it’s a surprise charge against us. I grind my teeth. Why does their commander stay back? Have they finally recognized Iris? But when she tries to rise, a volley of something like spikes heads her way and she can only roll out of the way.

The commander has to be a magnetron.

Hit in the leg, Iris doesn’t get up. The Lakelander commander approaches her and strangely, he appears neither relieved to have finally found his princess, nor shocked to have assaulted her. No, when he bends down to grab her by the chin, his demeanour oozes smugness.

I sneak closer to be certain but I already know the man holding Iris in his grasp is Volo Samos.

“How come my mother released you from your king’s cage?” Iris sneers.

He cackles and grabs her tighter, probably choking her. “Haven’t you heard, your majesty? It seems that the Lakelanders and I have a mutual enemy,” he gloats. Iris groans. “Your mother the queen was against it, but in the end, she had to agree with her clever advisors.” When he smiles, I feel a surge of his power although I hardly wear any metals. He’s even stronger than Evangeline.

“But unfortunately. I have to see the rumours regarding you are true, and you do fight for our enemy.”

Iris wriggles and kicks, her hands move to conjure water and assault Samos whose expression becomes aching. But the water that splashed his face falls down as he pushes on, to make Iris scream in pain.

“I wouldn’t try that again!” he calls and Iris’s knife leaves its sheathe and starts to levitate an inch from her head. “Do this another time, Your Highness, and you’re dead.” Then metal loosens from his armour and forms into a rope he uses to bound her hands. “After all these undignified months of captivity, I find myself truly fortunate,” he gloats some more. “When I return you to your royal mother, she’ll have no choice but to offer me clemency and acknowledgement of the Rift. Whether the same goes for you, I’m not so sure.” He rises and lets go of her throat, pulling her along by her manacles. “A disobedient child has to be punished.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure either.” Volo’s head spins around to face me and the lightning shooting from my hands, towards him.

“Barrow!” he yells and spikes fly off his armour, charged at me, and some of them making in to their target. I supress a cry of pain.

He only drops to a knee. Damn, my lightning is still too weak to kill him with one blow and I have my own problems to maintain my stance.

Iris doesn’t waste time. She used my attack to remove her manacles and collects water to lift Samos into the air, wrapping him into a whirl he can’t escape. She doesn’t have to give me a sign. Despite the bleeding wounds in my stomach and my leg, I summon all the electricity I can and throw it at Samos, frying him, letting it course through the water, his metal armour and his body until he’s only a charred mess.

My knees sink into a puddle and I stare at Volo Samos’s dead body with satisfaction. As long as I can. I would’ve fallen down completely if Iris didn’t come to pull me onto her lap. She tears at her cape, staunching my wound with it and her own bleeding hand. And yet, my red blood drops like the cursed rain and mixes with her silver blood.

She looks so determined, and yet so desperate. “Hang in there,” she pants, “I’ll have it bandaged soon!”

I chuckle, and rue it for the pain it brings, but hoping she’s right. But we’re in no man’s land, who should come to save us? “I’ve done it,” I whisper instead.

“Hm?”

“I told myself I was born to kill a king and now I’ve succeeded,” I cackle. It impedes Iris’s efforts but she only tries harder. “But it wasn’t the one I expected it to be,” I continue.

“So, you intend to kill another?” she asks, a little wary.

I sigh, both for the topic and the pain. “… I don’t know. I couldn’t face him. I have to. To tell him he has no power over me.” Although just having this thought means he still has. “He’s already done what he can to me,” I say.

Recognition dawns on Iris’s face. “Then you have to keep going, Mare!” Live, if only to spite Maven …” She continues to talk, I can hardly listen. “We’ll both live, and when this is al over, you’ll forget Maven and I’ll hold Arthur, just one time at least …”

I still hear her, and the sounds of the distant battlefield. But all I see is the white-grey sky that makes me feel like time has stopped.

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