Trigger warning: violence

- Dæor -

Everytime I look at her, I still feel as if the ground is giving out from underneath me. Wait, not like that - I'm just not used to her being a rebel, that's all. In my wildest dreams, I never could have imagined that she would have joined our ranks. A Princess among the paupers. Like a diamond in a heap of coal. I chuckle and attract a few curious looks from the rebels around me as a result. Shrugging it off, I shift my weight. I don't really like riding - never have. It's a weird sensation, the horse's muscles rippling under your legs and the ever-moving mane wiping at your fingertips. Maybe this is what being on a boat is like. With less pauses for eating grass.

I sigh as my mind drifts back to Evangeline. To think that just two weeks ago, I was about to kill her... So much can change in so little time. And not always in a good way, I remind myself as the all-too familiar feeling of guilt roils in my stomach. Ach, I can't bother with remorse today. I have better things to do.

Aline drifts besides me on her steed and I nod briefly to her. Pulling my horse closer to hers, I lean over and ask, as discreetly as I possibly could: "How's Evangeline doing ?"

Aline looks back at me, a little startled. "Uh, she good. I mean I think," she answers, slightly nervously. "She's real guarded 'bout everything. Which's understandable, 'course," she rambles on. "I mean-"

"When did you start getting so shy around me ?" I wonder out loud. "Ah, that wasn't meant to escape my mouth." I risk a sideways glance at her, fully expecting an irritated outburst. But what I recieve is as far from that as possible. "When yah started tah make me feel shy," she replies seriously. "Dæor, Keiti told me yah knew yah changed." She smiles at me. "I'm just glad yah realized." It's my turn to be nervous. I was made to fight on the battlefield, not maneuver around awkward conversations. "Well, you're the closest one to Evangeline here. If you think she's good, then she must be."

She fiddles with her tight braid. "I dunno 'bout that, Dæor. She's... obviously not telling us everything." She shuts her mouth almost instantly, and I can tell by the look on her face that she regrets her words. That doesn't stop me, though. "What do you mean ?" I press her on.

"Well... I dunno, really. Just a feeling." She resumes her hair-twisting. I sigh. "Aline, you obviously know exactly what you meant." At her hesitant expression, I start again: "Telling me whatever you wished to say isn't betraying her in any way, you know. You're helping her. Besides, it's only a hunch, right ?"

She sighs resolutely. "Fine, I'll tell yah. I ain't sure or nothin', but think 'bout it. Something must have happened at the Court. Like, she's a great gal and all, but she didn't just decided to join us like that, after a month."

"Wait... I thought you had told her stories of what the King did to some of us."

"How do yah know that ?" Her head swivels to look at me. "Please don't repeat it. If Mun hears I told her, I'm dead meat."

I huff out through my teeth. "Mun... I don't know what to do about her and the others. I think part of me believes they still ought to be punished." I breathe out again, trying to release the tension in my shoulders. "Anyways, don't worry, my lips are as good as sealed."

"Good, cause I'd seal them myself."

"Go ahead and try." We share a short laugh, and I find myself wondering why I haven't hung out with her more. Is it possible that she was one of the many rebels that I had forgotten the name of ? I glance over at her, vowing not to let that happen again. She has both a tough and timid exterior, but her nature is soft and kind, with a funny, wacky personality.

"Well, sure, there were the stories," Aline finally concedes. "But... She asked a whole lot of questions at the start. About Servs, the Opening, and all that stuff. They ain't told her much at the Castle. I think everything I told her - from our histories to Servdom - went against what she was taught. And yet... She protested, but in the end she accepted what I was saying." She sighs, pulling on her braid again. "I mean, there's no way she would just accept such big stuff with so little... so little evidence. She's smart, yah know," she peers at me pointedly.

"I know." It was meant to come out in a fun way, but it just makes me muse instead. She isn't just smart - she's got serious guts as well. How many people in the kingdom would be willing to climb on my desk and demand membership, in the same situation ? Not many, that's certain.

"So..."

"So you think there's something else. Something the King did to convince her that all she learned back at the Court was lies."

She nods. "Something like that."

I hum softly under my breath, thinking. Could it ? "I have to admit, it does make sense. The King is a monster. Why wouldn't he be with her ?"

"Plus, she's stuck with him 24/7," Aline quips. Her familiarity makes me smile, even though the context makes my reaction seem off. "Yeah," I reply, turning away. "Must have been hell."

Before she gets to reply, noises resound at the front of the parade. The news ripples across the line till it crashes around my ears: "We're here."

*****

Ah-Knu. It sprawls out before the hill on which we're stationed, houses freckling the countryside around a large castle surrounded by momentous walls. It's by far the biggest village we've ever attacked. We're deep in the forest - there is no way they can see us, but I still feel nervous. We're far from done, I remind myself. In fact, the entire thing's only just started.

"Alright !" I boom. My voice travels over the crowd, and they quiet, turning towards me. I try to ignore the nauseating roll of pleasure this gives me and point out at the fortified village. "Alright, I'm going to give you a quick briefing - for those who didn't bother to come to the actual one." I sent a loaded look to Mun. She ignores my gaze. She must still be salty about Evangeline.

"First of all," I clear my throat, "we all need to stay in the cover of the forest till the signal is given. It's really crucial. Understood, everyone ?" I wait till the crowd in front of me becomes a sea of nods. "Good. As soon as we get the signal, we need to get as fast as possible inside the castle. That means eliminating all Guards. They are not allowed to run." I let my words sink in. "The Count of Ah-Knu is pretty influential. That means his village is of relative importance. There are a lot of villagers here, and, as a result, a lot of Guards too. Thankfully, he left to go to a nearby village this morning, so there won't be too many around. But it'll still be a challenge." I pause. "The villagers. We'll be riding through the village - it's the fastest way to get to the castle - but we try to stay out of their way as much as possible. We are not to speak with them. Understood ?" I stress the last word. It's primordial that they get this. The less we interact with the villagers, the less they'll be blamed. Even though we are pretty much leaving them to be slaughtered, knowing how Isfalts treat Servs. Even if they had nothing to do with us, they'll most likely get hurt, if not killed. My fist curls tighter.

"We'll be in and out. In and out. Everyone ready ?" The sea is back, the waves of nods rippling across it more vigorously this time. I breathe in. Out. "Well, let's go !" I yell. My horse whips around and begins to galop down the hill. I don't have to turn around to know that they are following me. The wind is whipping across my forehead, my hair rippling in something that isn't a breeze anymore. Despite the danger, the stakes, the violence that is about to go down, I can't help my smile. Adrenaline courses through my blood. My bones. My head. It's not just the wind that has grown into something stronger.

With a howl, we descend into the village like one. As our horses thunder past the houses, we notice a few Servs being pulled into their houses, curtains being drawn, doors still swinging on their hinges. But we plow on. No stopping here.

Rapidly, we leave the village and continue to ride towards the fortified castle, the wind almost bringing tears to our eyes. Almost. We can hear it all - the gentle scraping of the wood as the arrows are pulled out of their quivers, the soft brush of the feathers against the bow, the peaceful hum of the bowstring being pulled as far as they possible go, the tiny spurts of breath as the archers focus... And, finally, the heart-thumping shriek as they wizz past our ears. Yet none of us turns back. None of us even thinks about turning back. We are too far gone.

Eliminating Guards that are on the top of a wall from the bottom of it can seem like a hard task, and honestly, it is. But hard is not impossible. You just have to have really, really good archers.

I tell myself how lucky we are as the first Guard topples over the wall in a matter of seconds, an arrow jutting out of his neck and a gurgled cry dying in his throat. He lands on the ground with a dull splat, and is soon trampled to a mottled mess of blood and bones by the stampeding horses. Oslo draws another arrow from his stack and aims. He's by far the best archer I have ever seen. We have others, sure, but none of them have that raw talent that Oslo contains. He blocks everything out: the cries, the iron smell of blood, the bright flashes of color, even the smooth movement of his horse as it gallops beneath him. No - Oslo just aims and shoots, always hitting his mark. I grin as I hear another body fall. I saw around ten people on that wall - by this rate, we'll be done in no time. Now, all I need to ensure is that Oslo doesn't get hurt.

My right arm shoots out and the sword clutched in my hand hits the head of an arrow. It spirals away, far from my protégé. I don't bother to hide my smirk. I might as well be as good with a sword as Oslo with a bow - if not better. Looking up, I spot another arrow flying downwards. I lunge over to the side, all muscles and movement. My sword is up in the air, but I pause. I wait for the right moment. And when it comes, the arrow is right in front of Shadow and I am able to slice the shaft in half, throwing it off balance. Quickly, I glance upwards, trying to see if another arrow is coming this way. What I see makes me smile. Of the ten Guards, only three are left, sweating in the brewing spring heat. Oslo's even better than I thought. I dare glance over at him. He's aiming another arrow upwards. Once released, it flies into the air, forming a perfect arc. I follow its trajectory back up the remparts. And what I see wipes that smile right off my face.

I was wrong. There aren't three Guards left, but six. Three had edged away from the wall and out of sight. But this sudden multiplication of Guards isn't the problem. The problem is that those three new Guards are walking back towards the edge of the fortified walls, holding a gigantic cauldron. From the strain on their faces, I can only assume that it's entirely full. Boiling water ? ...Searing-hot oil ? Black enters the side of my vision and my heart speeds up. "Everyone ! Back away from the wall !" I scream. But my voice only gets blended into the general chaos. Sheso. I look upwards once more. What should I do ? Don't panic, Dæor. Anything but that.

Narrowing my eyes, I try to find the flaw - that small detail in their maneuver that I'll have to strike. The cauldron seems sturdy enough; there's no way an arrow will be able to hinder it. And I don't see how Oslo will have the time to shoot down all three Guards before they reach the edge. Wait- Wait. That might not be necessary. I crane my neck upwards. One of the three men is obviously more pained than the others. His face is puffed and lobster-colored. He seems to be bearing the brunt of the weight. Maybe... Maybe if Red-Face drops the cauldron, the two others won't be able to keep up, and will let go of it as well. I swallow my saliva. There is a risk. If they drop it, it'll most likely topple over. And that could go in both directions: back towards the village, or towards us.

My horse jerks to the right and I am able to edge closer to our archer. "Oslo !" I yell. "That one !" His head snaps to the side and he stares at me, his gaze intense and maybe just a little terrified. Of course he saw the cauldron as well. He is hesitating, I can tell. "Oslo," I growl. "That's an order !" Duty is important for Oslo - making it a string I can pull. My words must have tapped into this, for he doesn't bother nodding and reaches for another arrow. The cauldron is even closer to the edge now. Silently, I trace the potential trajectory of its contents downwards. The vulnerable area is quite large, and- Sheso. Keiti. She's directly underneath it.

Almost immediately, I regret my feelings. Keiti's life isn't worth more than anybody else's. We're all equal here. None are more equal than others, right ? I hear a whizzing sound, and I know that Oslo released his arrow. Instinctively, I look up. Bingo. Red-Face is clawing at his skin, apparently unaware that it is too late for him. An arrow is jutting out of his neck. A gurgled sound escapes his throat, and he collapses to the ground with a limp thud. My spirits rise as I glance over to the cauldron. And my heart drops.

I miscalculated something. Red-Face wasn't carrying much. He was just thinner than the others who are, personally, dealing with their loss quite well, barely sparing a glance towards their fallen partner. The cauldron wobbled as the two remaining Guards adjusted to the new weight distribution, but they are now moving towards the edge at a steady pace. I swear under my breath. This is why Gail is in charge of the smart physics stuff. I can feel the well-known feeling bubbling up within me - regret. Guilt. Heck, I can't even look Keiti's way ! No, Dæor. Nothing is set in stone. Especially something that hasn't even been written down yet.

I don't even bother glancing at Oslo. He knows what to do. Now, I just need to get closer to the vulnerable rebels. A simple look tells me that Keiti's still in the area. Her yellow outfit isn't hard to miss, after all. I kick my horse in the ribs and it tries to plow forward, but the throng is too thick. My steed's not going to make it. But maybe I will. Gritting my teeth, I lift my legs and - slowly - rise. The horse's rippling muscles are constantly moving under my feet, making me unsteady. I don't have time to steady myself, though. As soon as I am in standing position on the saddle, I slide my left leg backwards, flex my knee and spring forwards. Quite ungracefully, I land on another horse's butt. Before the rider even has time to look at me in bewilderment, I'm off onto another. Jump by jump, I make my way, till I'm in the area itself. Breathe in. Out. In. "Clear this area !" I holler out. The strident sound pierces the air, splitting the ears of anyone within my vicinity. There is a lull in the fight, during which each and every rebels' ears begin to ring.

Suddenly, every single horse bursts into movement, whipping around and galloping back up the hill. I realize with a smirk that I could have reached the same result without my spectacular horse-jumping. My smirk wipes itself off my face, though, as soon as I get thrown off my current horse and land, hard, on the ground. Automatically, I roll into a ball and cover my neck with my forearms. Darn, wouldn't it be a stupid way to go ? Trampled by a horse stampede ? If I had wanted to die that way, I could have just stayed at the Isflat's lands.

My luck is in short supply today, but right now, it seems to hold out. I actually rolled away and am now propped against the fortifications themselves, meaning that no horse will come from behind and break my neck for me. I sigh with relief, and look up just in time to see a cascade of searing hot water rushing over the wall's edge down to me. Frick.

I can see the steam, billowing upwards and puffing in the air, forming bright, cheerful clouds. I swear I can even see the bubbles frothing on the surface, popping like sweltering infections. Ah, it is going to hurt when who knows how many tons of boiling water will land on me. As much as I possibly can, I curl up against the wall, and let my mind wander. It's funny how the water has poured over ages ago, but it's still falling now. It's funny...

"Day-or ! It looks like a star !"

"Well, yeah-"

"No, that's not what I mean, dummy." She turns around, laughing. "The constellation. See ? It looks like those stars that the Isflat hangs up when it's Wintertime."

"Oh, yeah. You're right."

"I always am," she grins, before melting back into silence.

"Day-or," she begins again, hesitant. "Do you think that stars are alive ?"

"Well, no. They don't eat, or drink, or-""

"But," she continues, bolder, as she turns over and leans on her elbow, "If they aren't alive, then they're dead, right ? And if they are dead, then why are we still getting their light ? What if... What if it's like when Moth throws His pot out ? The piss doesn't touch the ground when she tosses it over." She points towards the sky with her outstretched arm, landing on the floor with a thump. "What if what we're seeing is the death of stars as they die ?"

Well, it's my turn to die, Bo. My turn. I lift my head. The water is so close. Any minute now...

The water flows over me and crashes a couple of meters away from my curled body. Instinctively, I shy away from it, but droplets still land on my skin, only to disappear seconds later with a hiss. I cry out in pain and barely resist the urge to claw at my hurt arm. The noise is deafening. How many liters were in that Sheso-damn thing ? The water continues to crash around me, till, abruptly, it's gone. Gingerly, I turn my head and allow myself one look: the water has drained away, away from me, and away from the rebels, who have gathered on the opposite hill. I breathe a sigh of relief. They're safe.

Thump.

The two limp bodies of the Guards land on the floor, and shortly afterwards, the cauldron drops down. It lands and rocks gently beside the corpses. Slowly, I get up. My instinct is to reach for the wall, but I pull my hand away. They can't know how weak I feel. We can't afford to cancel this now. We have to take this village. About that... With a start, I twist round and run backwards, being careful to jog in zigzags. I needed to make sure - there indeed still are three Guards left on the rempart. They seem frozen in place, their eyes surveying the scene frenetically. As soon as they spot me, the men inhale sharply and run off. Drats. We need to catch them. If they get away, they might gather other Guards, and the mission would be in peril. "Keiti !" I cry. "The Guards !" A split second later, I feel a great big woosh beside me as she gallops down the hill, bent over her horse's neck and hot on the Guards' trail. A few others trail behind her. I can trust Keiti - she'll handle this. After all, she was trained for situations like this one.

"Dæor !" Gail pulls sharply on her mount's reins and halts. Her leg slings over its back and she drops to the ground. "Are you okay ?" She grabs my chin and tugs. "Ugh," I groan. "I'm fine. Just let go." Ignoring me, she probs a spot on my cheek. "Ow !" I exclaim, pulling away. "What was that for, smart-ass ?" She shushs me and calls Doctor Mulligan over. "We need your help !"

"Gail, I'm fine, I said ! Seriously, stop this !"

She sends me the look. "Do you really want to lead the group looking like this ? Like you just lost a battle ?"

I finally shut up. She has a point. Sheesh, that girl always has a point.

*****

I watch as the castle's double doors burst open and rebels fly in. They are separated into different groups, each corresponding to one floor. As quickly as possible, they'll comb the place to find and retrieve all available weapons. The ones who find the weaponry will have hit the jackpot, but in castles like these, there also typically are various weapons hung up on the walls as decoration. We'll take it all.

I gently probe my cheek. Doctor Mulligan has covered my burns with various ointments; with a bit of luck, they won't leave scars. The pain is already subsiding.

"Dæor !"

My head snaps sideways and I spot Keiti, galloping towards me at full speed. Doctor Mulligan, sitting besides me, rises to his feet and walks towards her. "Everything alright ?" I also get up as she pulls to a halt. "Did you get the Guards ?"

"Well...," she begins as she slides to the ground. "I found and killed two of them, back in the forest. But one is still alive. I don't know if he'll just try to escape, or will go warn his master like an obedient lapdog." Shit. I try not to show the worry that begins to bubble and froth inside of me, and in a tightly controlled voice, I reply: "Post a lookout on the fortification, and-"

"Dæor, listen. I need to tell you something." The expression on her face makes me pause. "Go on."

"As we were riding back through the village, this crazed man threw himself in front of my horse. He begged us to help them. Apparently, there's a girl who's going into labor, and Ah-Knu's healer is accompanying the Isfalt - they have no one to help her." My jaw tightens. Nobles. Everything is always about them, isn't it ? He knew a pregnant girl was here, and yet he still took the healer away. "I left those who had chased the Guards with me back in the village and rode here to meet you." She looks at me through her thick lashes, her eyes bright and pleading. "Please, Dæor. Please. We're their only hope."

Seems like my luck has finally run out. A pregnant girl ? It'll hinder the mission. Yet... I clench my jaw. A moment passes, then two.

"Doctor. Follow me. Keiti, take care of the lookout."

I begin to sprint towards the village, Doctor Mulligan hot on my heels.

"Where is she ?" I shout as I arrive on the village's main square. All the Servs are huddled together, casting worried looks at each other. A young woman wordlessy points towards a derelict hut. I start towards it, but Mulligan catches my arm and pulls me back. In a hushed tone, he fiercely whispers: "Dæor, I'm a Guard surgeon. Not a midwife." I don't spare him a morsel of pity. "Do it, Mulligan," I growl.

Wordlessly, he nods and hurries over to the hut, quickly disappearing inside. I follow him aside, careful not to destroy the decomposing door further.

Inside, it's the state of squalor which hits me first. These Servs are living in abject conditions. I grit my teeth, about to make a sassy remark, when a whimper makes my head turn. A girl is sitting on the cot, a thread-bare quilt clutched in her fists. She must be a year younger than me, maybe two. Oaken hair hangs in sweaty clumps around her head, swaying with every pained breath. Her eyes are turned downwards. They're focused on her rounded stomach. "Uh..." I lose track, disconcerted. She doesn't seem well. Her face is pale, with what seems like cauldrons of sweat streaming down her jaw. Are her hands shaking ?

As if on cue, she begins to scream.

Instantly, Doctor Mulligan is by her side, helping her down on the bed and pulling her quilt away. Her hands spasm and she lets out a pained holler. The sound reaches my ears and wiggles its way into my head. Though she has gone silent, I can hear it playing, over and over and over and overo. Sheso - I tried so hard to forget. The girl yells again, and my feet are running away, taking me towards the door and out there, out of the dark and dirt and dormant memories which have suddenly decided to come back to life.

Moth.

Outside, tense silence hangs in the air. The villagers shuffle their feet, looking this way and that. They are making it crystal clear that all they want to do is go. None of the rebels have a plan, it's obvious. They are giving me side looks, searching for instructions on what to do next. I never did brief them on girls losing their water, I guess. And this is why I do this part. Because I'm beyond plans.

"Okay, listen to me," I raise my voice, addressing the Servs. "You can all go back to your huts, if you'd like. We'll stay here till she gives birth to the baby. You have my word."

They all cast me looks of suspicion. I can almost hear their thoughts: Can he be trusted ?

How can a killer protect a baby's life ?

"I'm stayin' here."

An elderly woman stares at me in the eye, her chin high and her posture defiant. "I ain't leaving till she's done." With flair, she sits on the dirt and crosses her arms.

Like a ripple, they all follow her example and sit down, till all the rebels present tower above them. A tight half-circle of ninety villagers or so sits in front of me, avoiding eye contact. But multiple meet my gaze, stunned, as I sit down to level with them. After a second of hesitation, the rebels wordlessly follow my example till we're all on the floor, Servs and rebels alike. Some of the anxiety in the air subsides - they now just seem confused.

"So," I start, quick to divert their attention from the sitting crowd around them,"can someone explain who that girl was ?" They shift uncomfortably on the floor. None dare answer my request. There's a silence until the old lady who sat down first clears her throat. She eyes me, her lips pressed into a tiny circle before flashing me a killer look. Ack, she's scary.

"That girl is my granddaughter."

"Oh." I hesitate. Should I give a reassuring word ? Somehow, I feel that a well-meant phrase would only make things worse.

"Did yah see that ?" She jabs her finger out at me and I wince interiorly. "Oh," she repeats in a jeering voice, her tone morphing into a mockery of my own. "He has no idea of what he's doin' ! We can't trust him ! He'll hurt her !"

Anger begins to froth inside my chest. "Why would I hurt her ?" I ask, trying to keep my feelings in check. She glares at me in response. "Yah took Princess Evangeline. Poor girl's never done nothing wrong. I bet she dead by now."

There is a ripple through the half-circle. "Eldie, they're our only chance !" one woman cries out. A couple others nod in agreement. They're on my side, it seems, but the anger in my heart only spreads further, till my entire chest is burning. Burning red. "How can he possibly save my granddaughter when he kidnapped an innocent girl ? Yah better not have killed her," she finishes, pointing at me.

"I was a Sheso-damn Serv myself !" I yell.

Eldie drops her hand.

It's more than a ripple this time - a veritable wave hits the throng in front of me. Muttering reaches my ears, and I can only make out a few scattered words: "Isfalt", "Serv", "Us". Finally, a wee girl speaks up: "Are you a Serv too ?" Her mother's eyes widen, and her arms reach out, grabbing the girl, muffling her mouth, and dragging back into her arms. I try to smile. "No. I was a Serv. I'm free now." I let my words make their way to the villagers' ears. Freedom... It's something only spoken of behind closed doors and shut windows amongst Servs. It's something dangerous, unpronounceable, and, most of all, impossible. Yet every Serv I knew desired it with passion - sometimes over life.

"How..." They are dumbfounded. No one escapes Servdom. Right ?

"I fled. There... Something happened at my village, and among the comotion, I was able to run." They exchanged startled looks, and the mood changes. There is a tint of trust up in the air. It's working.

"But we would 'a' heard of such a thing !" Eldie bursts out. "Servs escaping a village... Even the Isflat of Ah-Knu ain't go hide something like that !" At the mention of his name, there is a general shiver amongst the crowd. Another asshole, apparently. Ah, who am I kidding ? All Isfalts are terrible. Of all people, I should know that.

"I'm sure you heard of it," I correct, trying to sound as little melodramatic as possible. "I just don't think you knew that anyone escaped."

Eldie lowers her eyebrows so much I'm afraid they'll slide off her forehead. "But..."

I cut to the chase."My village was called Heom." I regret it immediately. They all look at me with stupor in their eyes, like they just saw a ghost. And maybe they have.

"The massacre of Heom !" the same wee girl shouts out, and I can't help it - I bristle. The villagers jerk back, nervous once again. Drats. "Yeah, that Heom. How do you know about that ?" I chuckle nonchalantly. "You're too small to hear such tales." She sticks her chin out. "Ain't a tale, cause you were there. Duh," she adds. I should be smiling at her cute snarkiness, but I can't.

"Day-or !"

Keep yourself together, Dæor. "You are right, wee one. What's your name ?" I ask, bending down and trying to will kindness into my eyes. "Poppy," she shoots right back. "What's yours ?"

"Dæor." My smile isn't forced anymore. "My name's Dæor."

"If you want to get him mad, call him D," Keiti grins at Poppy as she crouches down beside me. The little girl's eyes sparkle with mischief. "A'right, D !"

I slit my eyes and mock a scowl. "How dare you ?" She erupts into a fit of giggles, and all the children in the half-circle follow suit. Keiti elbows me and winks. "Bingo," she whispers. Discreetly, I nudge her and whisper: "The lookout?" She gives me a thumbs up.

"Dæor !"

I spin around. That's the Doctor's voice. "What's wrong ?" I ask, my voice tight. His look says it all. "Not here." I get up in a flash and lead him away from the group. Once we're out of earshot, he turns around and tells me, without looking me in the eye: "She's not going to make it. What were you thinking, Dæor ? I don't know shit about these things !" I realize with a start that if he had spoken to me like this a month ago, I would have beaten him up. But his voice is strained, and I know the only reason he lashed out was because he's under pressure. "You're right," I concede. The tightness in his shoulders doesn't evaporate, though. He just looks surprised that I agreed with him. "Listen, Chad. If she doesn't survive, it's not your fault. Understood ?" My voice grows a bit louder. "It's not your fault." He falters and looks away, but his shoulders slowly lower. "I'm sorry," he croaks. "I don't know what to do. I think she's going to die, Dæor." A chill spreads across my back and I clench my jaw. I can't let her die. She's so young... Wait ! Wait. My head snaps up. Moth. "Doctor, I know what to do." Before he has time to even register my words, I'm racing back to the group.

"Blue cohosh !" I yell, my head bobbing in all directions. I must look insane. "Does anyone have blue cohosh ?" Everyone eyes each other, rebels included. "Blue cohosh ?" They have no idea what I'm talking about, do they ? I'm only meeting blank expressions. "Blue cohosh helps with labour. They're small blue berries, about the size of my fingernail here, see ?" I stick my finger out. "They grow on bushes and their leaves have three points. There should be some here, somewhere. Is there a meadow around ?" I see some nods, and it's the signal I needed.

"Alright, we're all going to split up and look for the berry. Rebels too - and try to stick with the villagers for directions. Alright, you," I point at a group, "go in that direction, and you, in the opposite one." I make eye contact with the elderly lady. "Can you please go into the hut ? I think she needs to hear a familiar voice." She nods and scurries away. The rest of the group dawdles around. "What are you waiting for ?" I snap. They don't even startle. They just nod and run off. I follow a group and begin to scan the ground. Please, please, please, let it be here.

This can't happen a second time.

*****

We've been searching for... How long ? Too long, that's for sure. "Has anyone seen anything similar ?" I ask for the gazillionth time. "No, we haven't, because if we did we would have told you," Oslo replies pointedly. "Right." I try to hide the desperation in my voice. I feel like I'm living through all of it again. First the frenzy, then the panic, then the howling. The "don't look, boy. Don't look !"

This can't happen again. I bend over again and freneticaly scan the patch on my right.

"Dæor ?"

"Yes ?" My voice cracks and I cough twice to cover it up. Gail looks at me, unconvinced. "We have to talk." She obviously doesn't have any cobosh, and irritation seeps into my voice. I'm only a step away from full out anger. "What ?" I snap. "Make it quick. I don't know if you noticed, but I'm kinda busy."

"Spare me your melodrama, Dæor." I turn away. I had forgotten how tough she was. "We should be focusing on the mission. Listen, I get that you want to help the girl, but every extra minute we spend here is yet another risk you're taking. We were supposed to be back at the camp by now." I look at her, my face blank. "We need to go, Dæor. Now."

Inside my mind, all has gone very still. There are a million things I could say, but when I open my mouth, all that comes out is this: "Get out of my sight."

She doesn't budge, but her expression changes to my hard tone. "Now !" I yell, furious. Remembering her place, she lowers her gaze and turns on her heels. I try to focus back on my task, but she has distracted me. How could she give up on a girl like that ? I shake the thoughts out of my head, trying to silence the clamor of rage, anxiety and pain ringing in my mind. I close my eyes for a second, two, then snap them back open. The voices in my head have gone quiet, slipping back into nothingness once more. Alright - back on task.

Green, green, green... I strain my eyes, desperately trying to find some blue. Desperate. There ! I almost cry out. Blue ! It looks so beautiful, I think as I run towards it. Could almost convince me to wear blue out to battle, like Lino does. I push the weeds aside, almost tearing them out of the ground. "Please, please..." I chant under my voice, like some strange mantra. "Please..." There ! Gotcha. In my hand lie a dozen of round berries of the best blue I have ever seen, clinging to a curved stem. I'm about to smile when... Wait. I pick one of the berries of the plant, carefully trying not to squish it. Wait. This isn't cobosh, I realize. They're blueberries.

My heart plummets, my joy rapidly changing into fury.

I clench my fist, and the berries are squished to a pulp. Juice of a sickening blue shade oozes out through my fingers. No crying. Dæor. No. Crying.

"Dæor ! Dæor !"

"What ?" I snap, twisting around. "What, Oslo ?" He doesn't bother to reply. He just shoves his hand in my face. "Hey, bug off..." My voice trails off as my throat tightens. Blue cobosh. Alright, this is the best blue in the world. The blue of hope.

"Doctor ! Doctor !" The hut's door slams open and I come racing in. "The berries !" I avoid looking at the girl. "Here you go, Doctor. Be careful", my voice cracks as he picks him up with his big, meaty fingers. "Hetha. Eat this," he murmurs. Hetha. So that's her name. I smile. Hetha.

*****

The crowd lingering outside Hetha's doors is tense. Dark has fallen, and as cold descended upon us, we found ourselves huddled together on the ground for warmth, rebels and villagers all smooshed together. Even the rebels who were back at the castle are among us, their arms laden with weapons. Whispers carry across us, gentle breezes swaying in the wind. We can't hear any more yells, thank Sheso. They were pretty bad earlier. Made quite a few of us look down at the floor in deference.

"How old is she ?" I had asked. "Fifteen," they had answered. Fifteen. Too young. They told me who she was - the healer's daughter. It must have broken his heart, leaving his daughter pregnant like that. I didn't dare ask who the baby's father was. I could easily guess.

The person beside me shifts. "Dæor ?" It's a woman - Poppy's mother, I think. Her voice grows stronger as she continues. "I need to tell you - all that you have done for Hetha, it... It really means a lot. I couldn't dare see Tren's face if he came home to the news of his dead daughter." Her face turns away for a moment, and I don't have the courage to tell her that the cobosh might not guarantee that Hetha will see the sunrise. "I just wanted to say... Thank you. And," her voice booms out of her thin chest, "to show you my gratitude, I am willing to help your group, as much as I possibly can." She climbs to her feet and looks at me, defiant. "I stand with you, Dæor of Heom."

To my right, another man gets to his feet. "I stand with you too, Dæor of Heom." A boy, around my age, stands up and repeats the same words. One by one, they all get up - even Poppy, bless her. They all stand with me. I kind of have to get up now, don't I ? I push myself off the ground and rise. Time for an amazing, inspirational and completely improvised speech, I suppose-

"Dæor !" Mulligan. I spin around in a flash. "Doctor ! Doctor." I hate how desperate my voice sounds. How helpless I look. "Please tell me that she is alright," I whisper. "Please." His stoic face gazes down on me. I can hear my heartbeat inside my ears. Boom. Boom. Boom. They punctuate my breaths.

"She's alright, Dæor. She's alright."

A grin cracks my face in two, and I don't stick around to congratulate the Doctor. My feet are a blur, I am flying and swooping into the hut to greet her. "Hetha ! Hetha," I begin, but I find midway that I don't have any way to end. She looks at me, slightly startled.

Blue splatters stain her chin, and her big chestnut eyes are wide open. She is wrapped in a blanket and huddles close to the wall behind her. Eldie is besides her, her arms wrapped around her granddaughter. Both of them are sobbing, the kind that heave your chest and leave you gasping. I notice all of this, but I don't see the baby until I do. It's huddled in her arms. So small. It's crying, like its mother. And honestly, it's pretty cute.

"May I sit down ?" She nods and I lay my butt on the makeshift cot made for her.

From my angle, I can see the baby, its eyes shiny from under its blanket around it. Its skin is of a rough red, but its features are soft and gentle, soothing. Suddenly, the child opens its eyes and stares at me, its crying subsiding slightly. Its eyes are of the most brilliant blue - the same as the stains of its mother's chin. My heart gives out a weak cry of submission as I look into this child's eyes. How can something so beautiful be born in such an ugly world ?

Hetha notices her baby's sudden calm and hands it her finger. With a spasm, it grabs her index and curls its tiny fingers around it. Its eyes are now fixated on its mother, her brown eyes adoringly meeting her baby's.

How can something so beautiful survive ?

"I should go," I mumble. I push myself off the cot and almost sprint to the door. What was I thinking ? As a stranger, I should know my place. I'm a rebel leader, not.. Whatever this is.

They don't try to stop me, though I guess I would have liked them to. I am almost at the doors when a wail echoes around the stone walls. I freeze. The baby is crying again.

I close my eyes, and a shiver goes through me. I grimace, trying to hold back my tears. Dammit - get yourself together ! You're on a mission.

"Dæor ?" I jump at the sound of my name, try to turn mid-air, and land unsteadily on my left foot. "Hetha ! Get back down, now !" Eldie's voice rings shrill. "You shouldn't be up - girl !" Hetha promptly ignores her and continues: "Please, don't leave just now." The girl before me looks half-wild. The blanket is hanging half-off her shoulder, revealing rugged copper skin, but she doesn't even take notice of it. Heavy, sweaty ropes of hair are plastered to her temples and cheeks. Her eyes are shining - from fear, fever or fervour, I can't tell. All I can do is bow my head. "As you wish," I reply, my voice pitched low. I don't even attempt to hide my awe. She just survived a near-fatal childbirth, surrounded by near-to no one, and brought a wonderful baby child to life, the lovely child of a man loved by absolutely no one. She survived. She survived.

I divert my gaze to the baby. If Hetha sees my tears now, I'll lose absolutely all credibility. The infant looks at me, its blue cobosh eyes wide open. The crying slows, eventually stopping. "She's a girl," Hetha tells me, her voice barely a whisper. "A healthy baby girl."

"She's beautiful," I reply. "Perhaps the most stunning baby I have ever seen. Well, I probably ain't really one to judge. Moth - my mother would always tell everyone about she named me Dæor because I looked like such a demon," I ramble on. Ah, why can't I shut my piehole ?

Hetha doesn't seem annoyed by my banter. Quite the contrary - she laughs, her voice vibrating through the air, clear and crisp. Much like her child's crying, I notice. "You're funny," she states, matter-of-factly. "And kind," she murmurs, looking away from my eyes. "I understood you were the one who brought the cobosh to me." Her voice is barely a whisper, yet it rings loudly in my ears till she goes on, "You saved my life, Dæor. And hers."

"I did no such thing," I stammer nervously. "It was your bravery which got you through this." "No. Without you, we would have both died in that cot," she affirms with a pointed gaze. "So," she exhales," to show my feelings of thanks, I've decided to call my daughter Hope. In your honor."

*****

The cold surrounds me. It's almost dark. We need to go. Yet...

"Everyone, listen up ! Here's what we're going to do."

The crowd before me is silent as I explain my plan. It sounds crazy, and if the Isfalt ever guessed it, the consequences would be huge. But the villagers still agree to it, even Eldie. That's not the case of all of the rebels, though.

"What ?" Gail pushes her way to the front of the crowd and towers over me, smoldering. "You can't be serious."

I counter her gaze. "I most definitely am."

"Have you lost your mind ?" She yells, her normally calm demeanor vanishing. "We don't have time, Dæor ! We need to go !"

It takes all of my strength not to draw Shadow out. "Gail. It's final."

She snaps her jaw shut with a resonating clack before turning on her heels. I can feel the fury radiating off her, but I don't budge. "All of you. We need to work together, and quickly."

The rebels desert the plaza in an instant. Gail will resent me for this, but it was the best course of action. I couldn't put the village in danger after all that happened.

Crash! With flourish, the dilapidated door barely covering the entrance of Hetha and Eldie's hut falls down. Boom! Bang! All around me, objects are broken, torn down, destroyed; villagers roughed up, pushed to the floor; livestock freed, running about the village. I survey the chaos around me, a smile dancing on my lips. Perfect.

"Dæor !" A cry of panic emerges from a frenzied Thet, running towards me with his arms flailing about. "The lookout saw people coming !" The barely contained panic in his voice explodes at the word "people", and it doesn't take a genius to figure it out. The Isfalt is at the village gates. "Go, go, go !" I yell as he sprints back. I surge forward and spring onto an overturned crate without breaking my hysteric pace. The crowd has scattered, and as I burst out, all of them look at me. I don't bother to yell. All I do is bring my fingers to my mouth and whistle an ear-splitting note.

Immediately, the rebels split themselves from the villagers and race towards their horses. What follows is chaos, with people mounting, kicking, riding away in an entirely disorderly fashion. "Hyaa !" I hear a familiar cry and spot a horse barreling towards me, Keiti already galloping away. I brace myself and outstretch my right arm. When my fingertips brush the reigns, I lunge and seize them in my fist. The impact knocks me off my feet, and I use the momentum to spin up and on the horse's back. "Good girl", I murmur. "Now go." We galop away, leaving Ah-Knu, a girl named Hetha and a baby named Hope far behind.

*****

"You didn't have to bring Heom up, you know." Keiti calls out to me. I tug slightly on my mount's reins and wait patiently as she catches up to me. The forest around me is vibrant and full of life. I can spot fireflies flickering slowly as they flit between the growing buds. Green leaves are unfurling everywhere, exposing their brilliant jade color to the moonlight. The ground is moist and the air is frisk, so when I inhale deeply, I can smell wind and life and the stench of wild things creeping in the undergrowth. "Smells nice, doesn't it ?" I ask myself. "Like spring." I add.

Keiti tuts. "Stop changing the subject and answer my question, you thug." I sigh, relenting. "I know I didn't have to bring it up. It just... It felt right, you know ?" And maybe because I don't want to forget it myself.

She laughs in reply. "I don't know nothing apart from the fact it worked amazingly. You were on fire out there, D !" I chuckle and throw her an exasperated glance. "Don't call me that; I've told you a gazillion times."

"You what ?" She shoots back, a massive grin widening on her face. "No idea what you're talking about." This time, I laugh outright, and she smiles in response. "It feels good to hear you laugh again," she says, in a softer voice. I don't know what to reply. What can I possibly answer ? So, like a coward, I switch topics. "We were lucky to have escaped." I pass my hand through my tangled hair. "That was a close one." Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her nod, her features grim. "That bastard Guard told his master, just as I feared." Is that a subtle reproach in her words ? Or am I imagining it ? "Do you regret having helped Hetha ?" I asked. My question comes out bitter and sharp. She glances at me, a bit confused. "No ! Of course not - I was just saying," she shrugs it off. "No one got hurt, and it turned out great." She winks at me. "I believe this calls for a major celebration."

"Uuugh," I groan in reply. A thought occurs to me, and I twist around. "You promise not to drink, okay ?" Her smile slips off for a second, and deep, deep sadness pierces from out underneath. But it only lasts a second, and her grin quickly bounces back on her lips. "Of course, Dæor. I'm a four-month sober. No way I'm breaking that streak, especially for something I don't need to forget," she chuckles, but I can hear the slight rasp in her voice. Keiti does not like talking about alcohol. Which is understandable, I suppose.

"What are you going to do about Gail ?" she asks. Evidently, she's steering me away from the touchy topic of booze, but I can also hear the concern in her voice. "She's mad. Furious, actually."

"I know, I know," I admit. "But it was the right thing to do."

"Of course." I knew Keiti would agree with me. That's why she's my best friend.

"But she still is pissed, and things are quickly going to get messy if you two can't talk to each other."

"Fine, I'll speak to her and sort things out," I promise half-heartedly, just wanting Keiti to let go of the subject. Clearing my throat, I jerk my head back towards the rest of the group. "Hey, do you think you could congratulate Oslo for me ? I wanted to thank him for being such a champ with a bow, but it slipped out of my mind." She lifts an eyebrow. "Why can't you go tell him ?" The cauldron and its hot contents come rushing back to my mind. "Don't tell him, but I'm sort of scared he's gonna yell at me for being so careless and almost killing myself." She nods and turns her horse around before I can tell her anything else, but I catch the scheming look in her eyes. Ah, she is so going to tell him. It doesn't really matter - it was just an excuse to get her away. I need some time alone.

Closing my eyes, I finally let all the emotions I had been pushing down erupt on the surface. Fear, anger, exhilaration, and most of all, sadness. Chest-tightening sadness. Everytime... Everytime I think I've come to terms with my past, it pops back up behind my turned back and bitch-slaps in the face me. Today... I was so afraid that Hetha would die. It would be like living it all over again. But it didn't happen. It didn't.

I hadn't been able to save Moth, but I did save Hetha. A long, long sigh escapes my lips, and I hadn't realized I had been holding my breath. Out with the air whooshing from my lungs came some of the pain, lifting a bit of the weight off my chest. Today... Today was incredible. Not only was Hetha saved, but what happened with the villagers... We've taken another step closer to defeating the Crown.

I hope it'll make Evangeline smile.

"What are you grinning for ?" Aline asks slyly. Her horse flanks mine and we're at arms-length, but I hadn't heard her approach. Her red hair has slipped out of her braid and now falls down on her shoulders in a wild tangle. Her usually shy composure is full of happiness and excitement, her fingers tapping nervously on the horse's reins.

"Hope," I reply. "Because of hope."