Lachsea, Ausicaa

At daybreak, the sun embarked upon its habitual ascent into the morning sky, spilling light across the foggy hills and valleys of Lachsea like a dreamscape. The manor began to stir from its slumber.

Deeply troubled by her failure to complete the third task within the timeframe Sorcha had given her, Brenna wanted to leave right away to seek out the Witch of Sinea, but her mother delayed her. Herra told Brenna that they needed to send their servants away for the day before taking action.

"I shall tell them that you and I need a day in bed to rest and recuperate. We must not rouse unnecessary suspicion," Herra warned.

Brenna felt her mother was being overly cautious, but she helped her prepare a list of errands and supplies for Lyonach, Haelynn, and Ibeaza to procure in the neighboring seaside town of Harrogye nonetheless.

By late morning, Haelynn and Ibeaza piled into the carriage. Lyonach took the reins to the horses. Once the gardener, maid, and cook were safely on the way to town, Herra and Brenna set off on foot for the lake in Sinea Forest. Roshe scampered behind them and howled incessantly until Brenna picked him up and tucked him into her satchel.

"Roshe!" Brenna scolded. "Do not grow accustomed to this treatment! I will not be doing this after your leg has fully healed. One day soon you shall grow too large for me to carry. I hope you enjoy this while it lasts, little princeling!"

Roshe snorted haughtily in response, as though he didn't believe her. Brenna heard her mother laugh. Brenna smiled in spite of herself. They had brought along a jug of the bierchae root tea. Herra's strength and spirits seemed greatly improved after only downing two doses. She coughed out more black mucus shortly after drinking the second cup. Herra said her lungs felt light as a feather.

They walked and they walked through rising and falling fields of tall grassy meadows until they met the edge of the forest. Brenna and her mother entered the realm of tall leafless whitebarks without hesitation. They headed straight for the small fishing lake surrounded by lilyvale.

When they arrived at last, Brenna glanced around wildly. The lake looked the same, the lilyvale blossoms looked the same, but Sorcha's hillside abode was nowhere in sight. The exact hill where her house had been located the day before now appeared to be nothing more than a plain, grassy hill. Gone was the moss-covered door. Gone was the crooked stone chimney.

Brenna whimpered in distress. "I swear on my life, mama, the witch's house was right here! There was a bed inside and a stove and—"

Herra shushed her daughter gently. She placed a hand upon Brenna's shoulder. "It is alright, child. I believe you. Perhaps the witch does not wish to show herself to me."

"No," Brenna lamented. Her small face scrunched with worry. "It is my fault! I failed to complete the last task, so now..."

"Now we know how to acquire bierchae root tea. It is working wonders for my condition," Herra said comfortingly. "Do not worry or blame yourself, Brenna. You have done more than enough for such a wee thing. Now, leave the rest to mama. I shall get to the bottom of this mystery. And I think I know exactly who I need to speak to..."

"Who do you need to speak with, mama?"

Herra smiled and shook her head. "No one you would know, child. There is an Imperial naval base located on the coast of Harrogye. I shall take a trip there for a few days once I am well enough to travel."

"Please take me with you, mama! I worry something might happen to you. The world seems so much more... dangerous now."

"I regret I cannot take you, child. Not this time. I will be alright, though. Lyonach can accompany me," murmured Herra. Remorse darkened in her warm brown eyes. "Mind you, the world has always been a dangerous place. I have simply been fortunate to be able to shield you from its wickedness here in Lachsea—until now. From here on out, our lives may be forever changed."

Brenna's lower lip trembled. "I do not wish for anything to change, mama. I am quite frightened of what may come..."

"I do not wish for change, either," Herra said heavily, "but do not be afraid of it, Brenna. Fear manifests only when you have something important that you wish to protect. Something that you do not want to lose. It shows that you are truly alive. Living with a full heart. You must cling to that fullness of heart. It will make you brave. Fear is where heroes find the strength to protect the ones they love and the ideals they cherish."

Brenna allowed her mother's wisdom to wash over her like a light drizzle. The truth behind Herra's words rolled through the girl, leaving her feeling chilled and uncomfortable, but it also swept aside some of her reservations. She was still afraid, but now she wanted to be brave. Brave for her mother. Brave for herself. Brave for their happy life together in the manor.

---

The dull ochre hues of fall in Lachsea soon turned into a blanketed wonderland of frost and snow. Winter melted to spring and summer and fall again. In the blink of an eye, another year passed. Then, two more flew by.

Brenna was now a young lady of fifteen. She stood as tall as Haelynn. She was slender in form, blossoming on the cusp of womanhood. She wore her coal black hair in a thick Ausicaan-style braid that trailed down to her waist.

Brenna was no great beauty, but her gray eyes and delicate features were pretty enough to attract the notice of several village boys. They were particularly enamored because she didn't look like a typical brown-haired, brown-eyed Ausicaan girl.

Roshe, as Lyonach had predicted, had also grown. He was now the size of a small horse. The monstrous wolf barked and snapped whenever any of the boys tried to approach his mistress.

No matter how many times Brenna tried to find Sorcha, she never stumbled upon the Witch of Sinea's hillside home again. Sometimes the girl wondered if she dreamed up the whole encounter out of desperation. Yet, her mother's gray lung was almost completely cured. Dr. Waevers claimed it was a miracle of miracles. Contrary to Brenna's greatest fear, fate didn't bring about any major disruptions to their day to day existence. Life in the manor remained as simple and happy and pleasant as it had ever been.

Brenna continued to make weekly trips up Mount Sinea to collect bierchae root. Strangely, none of their servants, not even Lyonach with his talented green thumbs, had been able to locate the bierchae plants whenever they were sent up the mountain. It seemed only Brenna possessed the ability to locate the bierchae plant, and, even then, she was only successful in her endeavors whenever Roshe tagged along.

Over the years, the thorns on the bierchae root mutilated her hands beyond recognition. Brenna didn't mind. She wore her scars with pride. Her mother was alive. In fact, Herra had never looked healthier. Her mother was under such a stable condition that she was able to pay a visit to the naval base in Harrogye at least once a month. Herra remained extremely tight-lipped about the nature of her trips—until the eve of Brenna's sixteenth birthday.

That evening, Herra called Brenna to her room with a big smile on her face.

"I bring good news, Brenna!"

Brenna glanced at Herra uneasily. Her mother's excitement seemed a bit forced. "What is it, mama?"

"In the last few years, I have been working very hard to arrange a good match for you."

"What do you mean?"

Herra's smile wavered slightly. She grew misty-eyed. "Why, you... you are to be married, child."

Instantly, Roshe snarled in protest.

Brenna grew pale in the face. "Wh-what? Married? No, mama, I am much too young! And... and I honestly would not mind becoming a spinster. There is no need for me to marry. Ever. I wish to stay here. With you. And Lyonach and Haelynn and Ibeaza..."

Roshe whimpered pitiably.

Brenna rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, and, of course, you as well, Roshe! You big overgrown fur baby..."

Roshe nipped at Brenna's skirts playfully and gazed upon his mistress with pure adoration. His large bushy tail thumped loudly against the floor in happiness.

Herra's response was not at all what Brenna wished to hear.

"All women must marry, Brenna. There is nothing I would love more than to keep you at my side for always, but you must not forget the secret I shared with you all those years ago. Just because our lives have been blessed with peace does not mean the danger has passed. Your future husband and his family will be able to protect you in all the ways that I am unable to. The House of Givenue are well established in the Imperial Court, and the Emperor is very fond of—"

Brenna shook her head violently and screamed, "No, no, no! I absolutely refuse to marry!"

Roshe howled in agreement.

Herra's brow furrowed with disapproval. She clucked, "That is quite enough, young lady! This decision has been finalized. I am leaving tomorrow morning for Levings to meet with your future mother-in-law to plan out the dates for the engagement party and wedding. I will return in two week's time, and then we shall travel together a month from now to meet your intended and his family."

Brenna fell to her knees dramatically and wept, "Oh! How could you do this to me? Behind my back? I loathe you so very much, mama! I hope you never return!"

She was still angry the next morning. Out of spite, Brenna refused to kiss Herra when they said their goodbyes. Her mother left for Levings with a sigh and sad look on her face.

At the time, Brenna didn't know what fate had in store for them. Had she known, she would have rained a thousand kisses upon her mother's face and never let her go. Had she known, she would have slapped herself black and blue until good sense returned to tame her wayward temper. Had she known, had she known, had she known...

When Herra returned to the manor two weeks later, her corpse arrived in a casket.