"Report" Lorcan ordered from his place in one corner next to the table, which was placed in the middle of the war room.

Many had refused to use said room to discuss the mere arrivals of the nobles, but Gavriel, Rowan and him had all agreed that there was no space for baseless intuitions in their camp. Fenrys had merely looked away, and the soldiers had no backbone to go against their sayings.

"We have sent letters to all nobles and High-ranking Officials summoned to our camp, and although we have yet to receive responses from all of them; we can estimate that they will all -possibly- arrive in the next three weeks; if the Gods are merciful" A soldier -whose name Lorcan could not bother to remember- said.

Gavriel nodded to him, his arms clasped behind his back. "Thank you. Let us know if any letter of response arrives. As soon as possible, tardiness is the flaw of the careless; and this camp does not need more of those" He instructed, and the male's answer was a respectful salute.

"Start with the preparations. Animals need to be hunted and cooked, plants' growing process must be magically sped up, and extra tents and rooms must be set up." It should have been Rowan, as a Prince, who said that; but Lorcan knew his friend had no patience or interest in the politics or composition of playing the part of a royal. So it was Fenrys whose mouth spoke, and who gestured to a couple of soldiers to follow his orders immediately.

They scurried away to do so, and left only the four of them persisted in the room. There was a stretch of silence after the door was closed, and although they remained unmoving, there was a switch in the air that was noticeable for all of them.

"Shall we prepare our troops?" Gavriel asked, gravelly. Almost dead. Detached. It was the sound of a male who had seen blood, and was already readying himself for more to be shed.

"We shall" Lorcan replied, his mind already doing calculations. How many soldiers they had, how many possible exits there were, how many boats and provisions were available.

"And what, exactly, would we fight?" Fenrys' voiced everyone's wandering thoughts.

Lorcan stole a glance in Rowan's direction, but his friend was too engrossed in his own thoughts. And based on the crease between his brow, and the tightness around his eyes, Lorcan did not want to know what lay under it.

"Well, Cairn is coming," Gavriel announced. "He's reason enough to fight"

A shiver ran down his spine at the mention of the sadistic male. Cairn had been under Rowan's army once, but after relentless -and unsuccessful- discipline, his friend had given up and sent it to his legion. He had only bear with him for a single month, for such cruelty had no place even in Lorcan's division.

He had done unspeakable things to both his own kin and all civilians he'd encountered, and while Cairn was a formidable force to fight against -and the reason why they still kept the male on their side-, Lorcan knew that Cairn was the kind of being that belonged in the Underworld, being tortured by Hellas himself.

"Indeed," Fenrys agreed, his words accompanied by a curt nod. "But he's not the enemy that we are thinking of"

"No," Gavriel admitted.

"Then let's be honest with ourselves" Fenrys had a faraway look in his eyes that had Lorcan's stomach in painful knots. "We have no idea what we are up against, and no matter how much we prepare our kin, we ought to arrange a possible escape. And find a new fort in case we, indeed, run away"

"You said it yourself, Fenrys, we don't know what we are fighting. Perhaps there is no reason to even doubt that this is just a standard royal assembly" Gavriel asserted, like a hopeful fool. Even in the face of their time.

But Lorcan understood. His friend was grasping at the last string of normality they had. Still, "I suggest we do not deceive ourselves" Lorcan grunted. "I doubt the summoning was even decreed by the Queen" There. He had said it. What he knew the others had already thought of. What had to be addressed.

"If it was not," Gavriel muttered, with a graveness that mirrored the somberness of their thoughts. "Then that would mean the fall of Doranelle"

"If there's no Doranelle, for we are Queenless, it would mean the fall of all Fae as we know" Lorcan finished for him. "Unless, we were ruled by an Heir with the blood of the Gods" There was no need to look at who they all had in mind.

Rowan cocked his head to the side, even as he pursed his lips in a furious grimace. "If Sellene were to be dead and, consequently, someone had taken over Doranelle, we would have heard of it by now-"

"You know the Novyk could have prevented us from hearing a word. Banjali is a world of its own, we are isolated here" Lorcan spoke louder than he had intended. It was a good thing that he knew his friend had sealed the room so that no one could eavesdrop.

"Furthermore, Banjali used to be one of the safest camps in all of our world. It used to be impenetrable. In the last centuries, only once had they managed to get past our borders, but now, the number has increased to two. In addition to that, there is a strange summoning as the one we just received" Gavriel joined him, his hands in fists. "It cannot be a coincidence. Something ought to happen"

"But," Rowan continued, ignoring their interruptions. "It is a possibility we cannot discard. Therefore, we could be facing a trap -for it is not our kind who is coming to greet us, but rather the Novyk- or they are shepherding us like cows for a kill. Either way, it cannot be denied that their intentions are to have us all here. Trapped"

"At any rate, all we can do is wait," Lorcan opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when determination glittered in Rowan's eyes, even as he seemed to be too far away for any of them to reach. "And scheme"

-

Isabella tried to contain her laugh as she stared at the grown up male sitting in a chair, situated in the middle of the Healers' tent. He had been forced to be used as a lab rat for her practising by Dahlia, who had threatened him in whispers. She did not know what the female had said, but whatever it was, it had the male palling and nodding as he followed her along.

"Now, please stay seated while I disinfect the tools" She told him, and did a quick work of her words as her hands moved with memorised practice.

The male had walked in with a small cut on his brow after a training session, but Dahlia had insisted they hurt him a bit more so Isabella could practise meticulously. The poor male -victim- had merely dropped his shoulders in absolute defeat at the female's words.

"You don't need to explain every step. Sometimes patients grow more anxious if you do that" Louise corrected her.

"Yeah, but please do tell him everything" Dahlia chuckled with shining mischief in her eyes. "The fucker hates needles and the scent of healing"

Isabella nodded, and noticed that the female was right as she prepared the needle she was to use, for the male almost fainted in his place. She turned so she was facing her mentors, "Will he be alright? He looks like he's going to be sick"

All of their eyes fell upon him, and her statement was accentuated by his pale skin turning a bit green.

"He'll be fine" Dahlia reassured her, unbothered by the male's reaction.

"Are you sure?" She wasn't convinced. "How do you know him, anyway?"

"Oh," Dahlia shrugged. "He's my brother. Can't you tell?"

Now that she thought about it, she could tell the gentle similarities between the two. In the way their eyes tightened, and the shape of their lips. And also by their similar colouring. Their matching ebony skin, and wild grey hair.

"Oh, alright, then" She said before pressing the needle to his skin to sew the wound Dahlia herself had inflicted upon him. It had been painless, for she had used her magic to subdue his nerves, but he had complained anyway. In response, Dahlia had called him a crybaby.

"Dear Gods," The male muttered under his breath at the sight of her administration before he actually fainted on his chair. Since none of the healers batted an eye at his reaction, Isabella continued her work as if nothing had happened.

"How did you convince him to help us?" Rose asked, once Isabella was done, and Louise had merely nodded in approval.

"He didn't vote in favour of one of Nalani's ideas, even though he had helped her polish it and had been excited for its results" Dahlia explained, with pursed lips. "He's supposed to have her back, and he completely disregarded her idea. In front of everyone! Just because his friends did so, too"

Isabella's head cocked to the side as she thought over the female's words. Rose shook her head, "He's still young. He'll learn"

"Don't justify him, Rose. He may be young, but old enough to know what's wrong and right; old enough to recognize injustice, and certainly old enough to know he ought to speak his mind and not let others decide for himself" The female's voice was harsh, not merely with anger but also disappointment.

"Well, yes. You are quite right"

"Nalani," Isabella asked. "Is she your friend?" Based on the way Dahlia spoke of her, she should have expected it.

Dahlia smiled almost shyly, but full of unrestrained love. "She's my wife"

"Oh, I didn't know. Congratulations"

"Didn't she tell you?" Dahlia frowned.

She was confused by the question. "No, the last time we spoke I had just finished with her wound"

"Agh, didn't she later thank you for attending to her?" Isabella had spent enough time around the healers to recognize the condemnatory look in Dahlia's face. It was not directed at her, so Isabella shook her head. "I told her to do it, that irresponsible idiot"

"It's really not necessary-"

"Of course it is! She knows how undervalued healers are. I specifically instructed her to thank you" She grunted, as if truly mad on her behalf. She crossed her arms over her chest as the female bit her lower lip. "Don't worry. I'll fix this"

"I really don-" She started, but was cut short as Dahlia scurried away, leaving the tent, and her passed out brother behind.

"She had worked to do" Louise pointed out, unsurprised by the female's reaction.

"Well, I'm sure she'll do it tomorrow" Rose tried to appease.

"She better will, or I'll have her on the night shift for a whole week"

-

Rowan grabbed Isabella's hand with one of his own, and slowly positioned her fingers so she was properly holding the needle with ink as she should. She remained silent as he did so.

He smiled to himself as she practised following the patterns he had on his arm. He quietly chuckled to himself, and even though her eyes were focused on his flesh, she asked. "Why are you smiling?"

"Your hands" He told her, as if that was self-explanatory.

"What about them?"

"You already move them as a healer would"

She blinked down at her hands, then looked back up to stare at him. "Oh, I hadn't realised"

He tried not to shrug since the needle was too close to his skin. "I can see why you wouldn't" Since she was so busy, how could she? Moreover, she never tended to take the time to appreciate herself, or look after herself. It was a habit of hers that drove his fears mad.

"Would it make my learning more challenging than if my hands were as they used to be?"

Rowan cocked his head to the side, in a manner he had grown accustomed from spending too much of his time as an animal. "I don't think so, no"

Isabella nodded, and pierced his flesh with the inked needle. They were once again where they had been when she had first found him tattooing his skin. He was sitting on a chair, close to the middle of their tent, while she was on the floor, between his open legs. He had placed a jar of flaming tears on the table next to her, and another on top of a pile of books to her other side so she could have all the illumination she required.

They had begun their lessons the day following her request, and despite the fact that only two weeks had passed since then, she had already advanced more than he had hoped. She had become an incredibly quick learner. He felt bad with himself for wishing she wasn't, only so he would continue to have an excuse for having her this close.

Rowan knew it was not the heat of the tears in the jars that had his blood burning inside of him, but rather the presence of Isabella; but for the sake of his mental health -and the weight of his heart- he ignored what her nearness awoke in him.

"How do you do it?" Regardless of what he told himself, the question escaped his lips without his permission.

"Do what?" Her eyes remained completely focused on her work.

"Everything" He tried not to sound too amazed by her skills, but damn it all. His emotions were palpable. "You are studying to be a neophyte, you are training with the rest of the soldiers, volunteering in the healers' wing, and es-" He caught himself before he would inevitably -and catastrophically- confess he knew she spent most of her nights venturing the woods with Essar's kid. Tsk.

He covered it up with a false cough. "And now you are also learning how to tattoo" His head moved softly from side to side, and the tips of his lips tilted slightly upward. "I don't think days are long enough for all you do,"

She beamed up at him, and he did not imagine the way her cheeks flushed crimson at his praise. "Neither are nights"

Rowan blinked, he had gotten too caught up in her eyes. "What?" He mumbled, like a fool.

"Nights" She repeated. "Days and nights are not long enough, but it's all we have, so I try to make it work"

"And where do you get all the energy from?"

Isabella smiled sweetly at him, and batted her eyelashes with too much innocence that he knew she was using in her favour. "From all the food you bring for me to eat"

"Good thing I do, otherwise you would be skipping dinner every night" He grunted, although he was glad to bring her food. It gave them time and space away from others, and it was a moment he cherished for just themselves.

"Thank you for taking care of me, then"

"There's nothing to thank" He spoke, with unshackled truth.

There was a dazzling twinkle on her face that made him wish he could spend the rest of his life staring at it. Rowan wanted to kiss her. He really did. It was such a strong desire that he ached for it. His blood felt feverish as it roared for him to listen to his longings. He licked his lips, missing the taste of her skin against them, searching for the feel of her lips on his.

But he could not.

So, instead, he leaned forward and left a chaste kiss on her forehead. She blinked up at him in confusion. "What was that for?"

He shrugged, and responded in the Old Language of the Fae.

Isabella frowned, "You know I cannot understand you"

"That's what makes it so fun" He didn't bother hiding the smirk that took over his face, in response to the deepening of her frown.

She rolled her eyes at him, and made sure to check that her fingers were in the position he had corrected her for, before continuing.

"Remember not to rush when lining the characters"

"Got it"

"And keep your hand steady when shadowing"

"I know"

"And especially when-"

"If you keep distracting me" She warned, with no real threat in her voice. "I'll end up drawing a dick"

Rowan grinned, "Make sure it's a big one, you know. So at least it's one worth looking at"

"Ha, ha" Isabella said, and even though she was not laughing, he knew she was containing it by the shift in her shoulders.

"Oh, and try not to draw it too close to my parents' names, that'd be weird"

She pursed her lips, trying really hard not to let the smile threatening to blossom across her face show. "Stop it, or I'll really do it"

"Go ahead, should I describe one to you, or do you need visual help?" Rowan taunted, surprised with himself by the fact that he could not hold back. That he did not want to hold back, either. It brought him elation when he bantered with her.

Isabella let out a puff of air as if in disbelief. "So what? You'll order a male to come in here and strip his pants down?"

"Nah, that would take too much time. I'd just show you mine"

There was a beat of silence in which he rejoiced in the bemusement that overtook her all of her features. He had stunned her into silence. But then she blinked, and looked up at him with sweet, big eyes and a wholesome smile that had him narrowing his eyes at her.

"I thought you wanted me to draw a big cock" She told him, her voice saccharine. "If I drew yours, I'd be doing the opposite"

Rowan smirked, and he allowed his fangs to show as he leaned closer to her ear. He heard the intake of her breath, and how she held it in as he brushed the tip of his lips against her earlobe. He tried to savour every second as he spoke low and slowly -his voice huskier than he'd have liked to admit-. "Focus on the tattoo, Isa"

He saw her swallow as he reclined back in his seat so she could continue. Rowan didn't bother to hide the pleased smirk currently overtaking his face as her cheeks reddened and her gaze avoided his.

-

Isabella tried to recite the number of tries it had taken her to learn the exact time it took her healing brew to work last night. She was back to wounding herself to see the effects and time lapse of her new discovery. Vinhen had not complained, but she was not brave enough to keep accepting his help. Furthermore, she had reached a point in her breakthrough that made it difficult to hide it from somebody else, and Isabella needed secrecy.

She was going back to her tent after a long day of training and studying, only to grab her things and continue with her research. The night was stronger than when they had first arrived, and the days were growing weaker in their length as winter approached.

Hugging her middle to fight against the sudden cold wind, she stopped in her tracks as she noticed a figure waiting right outside her tent.

She approached slowly. Tentatively. And confused. "Hello?" She said to Nalani.

The female squared her shoulders as she noticed her presence. "Good evening"

They stood awkwardly in front of each other as neither of them spoke. Isabella tried not to avoid the female's gaze, but she it was hard; for in spite of the fact that her demeanor was healthy, she could not help but see nothing but her lying on a bed stained with her blood.

Still, she was tired of wasting her time, so Isabella gestured to the female. "I'm glad to see you are doing okay" She said, truthfully.

Nalani rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah, that's actually why I'm here. I realised I never properly thanked you for...you know, helping me" She shrugged. "So, here I am. Thank you, truly"

"Oh, you are welcome" They both fell silent as decent formalities were exchanged. "You shouldn't have bothered though, it's alright. I know Dahlia kind of forced you to do it, anyway"

Nalani laughed out loud at the mention of her wife. "She really did give me a handful for not doing this sooner, but she was right. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you, and I brushed that fact aside because I don't tend to care much for injuries regarding my wellbeing. But you saved me, thank you"

"Alright," She was more than slightly uncomfortable by the attention.

"Good, and since that's out of the way, I also wanted to ask you for a favour. I know it sounds terribly selfish of me but..." The female trailed off. "I've run out of options"

"Sure, what is it?" She tried not to frown too much as she said it.

"I know you are friends with...Prince Rowan" The way she said it reminded Isabella of Vinhen's earlier misconception of her relationship with Rowan. "And, you may not know this but I'm part of the War & Strategy Council. I've been trying for months to get one of my requests regarding some underground tunnels that have been disused for millennia. I think they would be great for storage or as hiding spots but none of the other members of the Council will support me"

Nalani sighed in both tiredness and embarrassment. She looked Isabella in the eyes with supplication as she proceeded. "Do you think you could mention this to Prince Rowan and...try to convince him that the tunnels would be a good idea? If I had the support of the Prince, his word would weight more than those in opposition"

She thought her words over and considered her options. The implications and possibilities. "Sure, it sounds good. Why don't you show me where they are?"

-

Lorcan eyed the stacks of papers he still had to revise for tomorrow and rubbed his temples. He had been in his study for hours, and even the fire tears in jars positioned all over his desk and stacks of books seemed to have been deemed in exhaustion.

He eyed the reports he had already corrected, and then his eyes fell on the opened letter he had received days ago. He still had not decided what exactly to respond, but he knew he ought to do it soon.

The door to his study opened, and Lorcan didn't bother looking up from his desk as he recognized the scent that invaded his space. His blood rose in temperature as an answer to his calling.

"What are you doing here? Did something happen with the preparations or one of the soldiers you were to train today?" He would have sounded uninterested -even annoyed- to a stranger's ears, but in reality, he was anything but.

The only reply was the sound of the door being closed, and the incoming footsteps that stopped in front of his desk.

Lorcan looked up at Fenrys. His friend was already staring down at him. His hair was uncharacteristically mouseld -a sign of stress and anxiety from him- and there was a tightness around his eyes that haunted him in his nightmares.

He arched an eyebrow, "So?"

"I just want to know one thing" Fenrys muttered.

He anxiously straightened in his place at the emotion in his voice. In his awkward display, it caused him to bump his knee against the desk. The motion set most of his papers falling to the floor. Lorcan hurried to pick them up, and Fenrys did the same. As a being destined to be disrupted by the Gods above; he saw the exact moment Fenrys' eyes landed upon the letter he had yet to answer.

Essar's letter.

The corners of Fenrys' lips tightened as his mouth formed a flat line, his hands were suddenly fisted on his lap. They exchanged a look before they both lunged to grab the letter at the same time, but Fenrys beat him to it.

Lorcan saw his eyes scan over the letter's content with rapidness and fury. His heart was beating too hard against his chest, so much that it was painful. His hands were a sweating mess, and Lorcan realised he was afraid.

Fenrys shook his head and threw the letter at his feet once he was done with it. "I was right," He snarled.

"No, it's not what it looks like" He shook his head, but panic was seizing his senses and he could already feel his hands begin to tremble.

"Don't lie to me!" Fenrys hissed through his teeth, "Not again" He murmured, weaker and hurt.

The pain in Lorcan's chest intensified at the sight in front of him. Betrayal and utter torment stung at Fenrys' eyes, but no tears were shed in his presence. The fact that he knew Fenrys refused to do so just because he was in front of him hurt almost as much as knowing he was the cause of it. Lorcan felt like he was reliving some of the worst moments of his life once again.

"I swear it's not what it looks like, let me explain" He tried to appeal in his favour.

"Why?"

The amount of sorrow that one word held as Fenrys said it had Lorcan's heart slowly breaking free from the weak strings that held it together.

He felt overpowered with sadness, confusion and ire. He was unaware where such intense feelings were suddenly coming from; but he was already too weak against them. As if a bigger existence had shoved them at him, and now Lorcan was a puppet being controlled by emotions he was not sure were his own. Maybe.

"You were the one who ended us," Lorcan spoke, with no resentment. Just suffering. "I should be the one asking why: why do you pretend to care?"

Fenrys let out a humourless laugh, "You are a real fucker, Lorcan" He screamed in his face before he quickly and savagely shifted to his animal form. The white wolf snarled at him, showing his elongated fangs and teary eyes right before he left in a run.

His mate broke the door down as he ran away from him for the second time in his lifetime.

-

Isabella tried not to let her new discovery stray her focus from the work she was supposed -had- to do. But it was almost impossible as she pondered over the female's words.

It was so distracting that she didn't realise she had walked further than usual, that the moon was higher than the other nights, and that the shadows casted by the trees were more ethereal than she had ever noticed. There was a strong scent carried by the wind that she could not identify, and a lightness in her steps that she had not felt in years.

She scanned her surroundings for any intruder, and when she found none, she began rummaging through her bag to take out her things. A hissing sound made her stop her movements. Instinctively, she pretended she had not heard a thing, and instead of looking for the book, she looked for her knife even as she forced herself to keep her demeanour as unsuspecting as possible.

The sound broke part of the silence again, but this time Isabella realised it was softer. Not a hiss, but rather a gentle call, like one would to catch an animal's attention. The comprehension unbalanced her enough that she dropped her act, and looked around once again. But darkness made it difficult for her human eyes. As if in response, the moon shone slightly brighter, almost as if offering a helping hand.

She had obviously gone crazy.

"Here" A voice whispered.

Her head snapped in the direction from where the sound had come from, but only the trees seemed to be in her company.

"Right here" The voice said again, slightly impatient this time.

She narrowed her eyes to focus better on what she was trying to see, and as she did so, a tender light appeared from behind one tree. It was small, and reddish combined with a calming orange. Like a match. Isabella's breath caught in her throat as the light took a form reminiscent of a human; its only difference was that the body appeared to be made of living flames.

A small head peeked at her from behind a tree. Wildfire eyes blinked in her direction as their gazes met, and the shape of a burning candle was on the top of said head instead of hair.

A fire spirit. One of the Folk.

"You are terribly difficult to find alone" The small being said to her with a sugary voice that sounded pleased at her noticing it. Isabella noted it sounded female, and that she was smiling at her, invitingly and happily.

It was hard for her not to stare in disbelief at one of the beings she had seen around camp -usually posted on top of torches, on top of candle tubes in chandeliers, in corners of rooms and plastered to walls-. Always there, and usually ignored. As if their presence was expected, and not a privilege and a novelty.

Isabella blinked at the small spirit, then coughed awkwardly in utter disbelief. She tried to look for words to form an answer. "I am usually alone at night"

The fire spirit shook her small, blazing head. Her whole body was undoubtedly smaller than that of a standard book. "No, you are not"

She was confused by that. "What-?"

"It doesn't matter. You are alone now, and we must make use of our time before they join you again. They are awfully demanding" The folk cut her off by replying.

"Who?" She began wondering, but let the question go as it occurred to her that the spirit probably meant the cadre. "They are harmless, not to be afraid of" At least, when they wanted to and who they wished to; was what she refrained from adding.

"I see there is little you know about the nature of the creatures who roam this world" The spirit told her, not unkindly. Merely, as a matter-of-fact. "Do not let yourself be deceived by the appearances they choose to take, or even less, the emotions they evoke in you. They are all a farce, and one must always be careful" The voice of the female was soft and feminine. Delicate, yet firm. It reminded Isabella of an entitled child.

But her words and the way she carried herself revealed that the presence in front of her was probably older than all the fae in camp. Maybe older than their ages combined.

"I don't think I know what you mean, the fae are-" She wanted to vouch for the cadre, for her friends, since she knew the folk and they had a strange, peculiar history between them.

"The fae?" She shook her head again in what Isabella assumed was disappointment. "We do not have time for this, follow me" The spirit floated a bit higher in the air, and spinned so her back was to Isabella before moving forward.

At loss, Isabella followed her. As they walked, she tried asking questions the spirit replied vaguely to. And the further they got into the woods, the more Isabella realised she could not recognize even a single leaf.

The figure of the trees was strange. Different from the ones she had seen in the past. Unexplainably, they were thicker, their roots too visible, their branches curved in peculiar angles, and animals found odd ways in which to lay on them. The leaves were neither heart-shaped nor ovated -nor in a way she could recognize-. She kept rubbing her eyes as she asked herself if they were really changing shapes even as they fell from the trees.

"What's your name?" Isabella asked the spirit, in an attempt to put together the puzzle pieces that was her night.

"You shall call me Persina"

"That's a beautiful name, does it mean anything?"

Persina looked at her from over her shoulder. "All names have a meaning, as all words have a purpose"

"My mother used to tell me that my name meant 'Devoted to God' or 'God is my oath'" She was not sure why she had shared such a thing. She wondered if she could blame it on the lightness she felt.

"Very fitting, did your mother happen to be a Seer?"

She chuckled. "No, although we used to joke she was a witch"

"You certainly don't smell like the descendant of one," Persina pointed out. The way of her saying was not rude, despite the words spoken.

"Thanks?"

"You are welcome"

"Where are we going?"

"You will see"

"But why can I not know?"

"Are all humans as...maddening as you?" It had only taken the spirit a couple of questions to get irritated.

"I'm not sure anymore"

"Interesting"

"By your question...can I assume I am the first human you've ever seen?"

Persina scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, I am older than the progenitors of half your soul. Of course I've seen humans, I just had never bothered talking with any of them"

"Why?"

"They never seemed to have anything interesting to say"

"Then why are you talking with me?" Isabella really wanted to know.

The spirit pursed her lips. "You shall see"

She recognized the dismissal, and followed it by remaining the rest of the journey in silence. Isabella tried to come up with theories as to why this was happening. So far, only three were plausible.

She was now hallucinating as a side effect of inhaling different plants' scents

She had died, and this was part of her journey to the afterlife

She was in actual trouble

Either way, all she could do was follow along. So she did. Persina floated through the woods as if she knew them as one would the lines in their hands. Her mere flaming existence was enough to illuminate the path for her to take every step onto, and despite the uncertainty, Isabella's hands were firm next to each side of her.

The spirit stopped in front of a tree. The biggest tree Isabella had ever laid eyes upon. She looked up at the sky, and noticed that it seemed to go on forever, its branches concealed with the clouds and mist of the incoming winter. The trunk was thicker and steadier than stone houses, perhaps even safer than the fort at Banjali.

"Close your eyes," Persina instructed.

"Why?" She couldn't help but ask.

"One cannot enter Ranthia Drahl's realm by relying on what they see, one must know the nature of the world"

"What? Who is Ra-?"

"Just do as I say" Persina chided.

Isabella complied, and as soon as she closed her eyes, she felt herself being guided by a sense of warmth that engulfed every centimetre of her body. Distantly, she heard rustling sounds, the roaring wind -though its coldness did not bother her anymore-, the crooning of birds, and hushed whispers being exchanged.

"You may open them now"

She had not moved her feet, she had not moved one single centimetre. She knew this with certainty. Yet as her eyes flew open, Isabella found herself in what she believed was inside the tree, for the floor was dirt, and so were the walls surrounding her. But it was indeed unalike one from her world, for the roots of it were not only alive; but literally glowing with life.

The veins were of a strong bluish colour, vibrating as they pulsed. And in the middle of all that light, Persina's fire presence was subdued in its fervour. As if calmed. At peace.

"Quick, she's waiting for you" The spirit flew away, and Isabella trotted to keep her pace. Even as her eyes tried to capture sight of every single corner of the tree.

Persina took her to an opening. The centre of the tree. It went upward, and opened in a wide circle that allowed the night sky to be visible from every place. There, the roots seemed to shine even brighter.

A small waterfall ran on one side of the centre, and water spirits lunged close to it -some even swimming and jumping- while they chatted comfortably with each other. More fire spirits were positioned around the opening -some talking, others eating-; but they all fell silent as they noticed her presence.

Persina floated to the very centre of the circle, and bowed deeply in front of one of the smallest folk Isabella had ever seen. "My Queen, I humbly present to you, the human; Isabella Oath of the Gods"

"Rise, Persina. I wish for no formalities tonight" The small spirit -Queen- said. There was no indication in her form that differentiated her from the other folk, but Isabella knew that she was a royal for the way she carried herself. It was blood that showed in her demeanour.

"Isabella, I have heard so much about you"

She considered bowing, and after seconds of debate, she did so. Just in case. Based on the pleased smile on the Queen's face, she knew she had chosen right.

"It is a pleasure, Your Highness"

"I've been wanting to meet you for so long. Sasa has spoken so much about you" Inevitably, Isabella frowned. She was more confused by each second, and she had always hated not being in control. The Queen must have seen it written in the lines of her face, for she smiled knowingly. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Ranthia Drahl, Queen of this realm"

"I am honoured by being in your presence, and for being welcomed into your realm" She had no idea what she was doing, but Isabella felt no threat there. There was only calmness. Safety. In every breath she took.

"This is the realm of some of the elemental folk,"

"In Banjali?" It seemed improbable. Unexplainable.

"We were here long before those who call themselves Fae renamed our land, and we will be here long after they leave this world"

She nodded. "So is the will of the Gods" She murmured. Words she had heard before being said around camp, like a chant one used when Fate was settled. It was what it was.

"Because so is our will" Ranthia corrected, and narrowed her bonfire eyes at her. "Tell me, what makes you think we are not Gods ourselves?"

"I apologise, I have yet to fully adjust to the deities of this world. Please do not let my ignorance be considered an insult to your kin, it was merely the words of a fool" It was taking everything in here to try to guess what she should say, how she should word it, and when.

The only royal she knew was Rowan, and he hardly behaved like one. Nor he required such a level of pleasantry.

The Queen waved a small, flaming hand as if brushing her words away. "Do not worry. You have made no mistake. And even if you did, it would be forgiving for the act you have already made for us"

"Huh?"

"Sasa, here" Ranthia gestured to another fire spirit whose flames burnt pink as Isabella's gaze focused on her. "She told me she saw you kill one of them"

"Who?"

The Queen's lips pulled back in a snarl as she said the words. "That monstrous Fae male from their camp. You killed him two full phases of the moon ago"

The nameless male. He who had harassed her, who had tried to rape her. He, who she had killed with a power she didn't know it was within her reach; one she could wield.

He, who Rowan had buried in their camp just because she had asked for his help.

"I- Yes, I did" The pieces were slowly falling into place, yet she could not understand the full picture. "How-?"

"Oh, yes. Sasa, tell her" Ranthia ordered the other fire spirit to explain.

Sasa wriggled her hands in both nervousness and excitement. "I was coming back from one of my night shifts after illuminating the castle's hallways, when I felt the presence of-" She cut herself off, and shot a quick, guilty look in the Queen's direction. Her flames burnt a stronger red as she continued. "So I followed it. It led me to you and that detestable male. I saw the two of you fighting, I was about to leave in order to not be seen, but then I heard it. A whisper in the tongue of thorns. You may have not uttered a sound, but words cannot be silenced. Their nature will always scream, and I was surprised when I realised it cried because of you"

"I- I don't understand. I don't speak the tongue of thorns, I-"

"But you did! You killed him with it! Drew it on his skin with both his blood and yours!" Sasa squealed, a dreamy tone in her voice.

Isabella's mouth fell shut as she fully comprehended the concept of their statements. "Wyrdmarks...are they part of the tongue of thorns?" She ran a hand through her hair. "I didn't know," She muttered to herself.

A crease formed in between Ranthia's brow. "You didn't know?"

"Well, no. I wanted to kill him, but the weapon was...an unprecedented, and unplanned solution. An accident" She confessed, hoping it would not mean the fall of her from their good graces.

"Accidents and coincidences do not exist. All is a plan in the Fates' writings"

"I really didn't know" Isabella was at loss. It was surprising she was not yet hyperventilating.

The Queen seemed conflicted, but let it go as her face relaxed back into pleasantries. "It does not matter. It was the will of the Fates, and regardless of it, you rid us of a horrible monster. That male deserved to die, and you saved us from a war with the Fae by doing it yourself"

"Did he abuse you, too?" Anger and a raging thirst for blood thrummed in her veins as she thought of that male trying to do anything to such small spirits.

"He tried. Many times. And when he did not succeed, he would find other ways to torture our kin" Ranthia's voice was full of hatred. Cold. Coarse. And furious.

"I'm sorry" She said, because she couldn't phantom the idea of anyone doing such vile things to such kindred spirits.

"Do not apologise for things that are not on your shoulders, otherwise you will be underground before your time with Hellias" The Queen advised, as a mother would to a learning child.

"I will try" She bowed.

"You must." Sasa nodded, effusively. "It is already quite easy to find you, with them following you along all the time. So don't make it easier for him, so he can claim you earlier than he should"

"Sasa!" Ranthia screamed at her in a scold. "Do not even dare to speak their names, for words have powers and you know it"

Isabella was dying to ask who they meant, for the cadre did not deserve such thinking. But the Queen spoke again before she could even part her lips. "Now. You are a human who has no magic, yet you wield the power of blood through the writing of the tongue of thorns. That's quite impressive"

"Thank you, but how is it possible? I have seen words in said tongue, and it does not harmonise with any of the markings I have wielded"

Rowan's words were still written in her book. Still untranslated. Unknown. But she had stared long enough at his handwriting to know that neither wyrdmark matched any letter he had written down.

The Queen floated so she was close to Isabella's face, and raised one of her hands to her cheek. To her surprise, despite the fact that she was made of fire, her touch did not burn. It was painless. Comforting, even.

"Child from another world, in the past, when worlds were infants, everything had a name. A real name that entitled it all; its nature, centre and soul. It was a time when words and names were magic in themselves. Times when one would never dare speak lightly or carelessly."

"With the passing of time, and the growing of all worlds, the newcomers and the creation of new languages that were reeking with ordinary, the tongue of thorns -the language of the universe- was forgotten. Wyrdmarks, as you call them, are only one variation of what's left of the tongue of thorns. A way of wielding nature and the centre of things to one's liking by merely knowing their real name"

Ranthia stared seriously into her eyes as she finished. "But it's in the voicing of the truth where true power lies"

"Yes, yes!" Another spirit agreed, ecstatic. It floated to the other side of her face. "Have you not heard of the Lost Gods? The Forgotten Deities? Of the Dethroned Beings? Of the Stray Gods?"

"Malana" The Queen scolded, and the spirit's response was to flame a bit brighter in embarrassment. It floated away before it could be further reprimanded. Ranthia looked back at her and sighed. "Forgive them, they are quite fond of you after what you've done. Do not pay any mind to what she said, it is a matter to worry about for another time"

"I-" She tried to say, although she was not sure what. Isabella was suddenly tired. Exhausted by the revelations she had been gifted, and already thinking of what this meant for her. And their future.

"Sshh, child" The royal folk gently shook her head. "Allow yourself one night free of concerns, and join our rebel. We want to share our food with you. Will you do so?"

Isabella felt a knot forming in her throat, for despite the gigantic and obvious differences between her and the Queen, the spirit reminded Isabella of her mother. Perhaps it was in the way her voice grew louder when she scolded someone, or in the kindness of her eyes; maybe even in the way she wished for nothing but to feed her and ease her worries.

"Yes, I'll join you" She struggled to say through the burning of her throat.

-

"Isa, Gods above, where have you been?" Rowan shot to his feet as soon as he saw her enter their tent.

He had already been up, pacing the space from one corner to the other like a relentless animal. He had even shifted into a hawk to try and find her with a better aerial vision. But he had not. And he had been on the verge of breaking down every centimetre of the camp to find her.

Isabella walked to where he stood, but her gaze was downcast. The line of her shoulders was in a slump, as if merely standing was a hardship. And her scent- Gods, her scent. It usually reminded him of warmth and the wind; but now it was stained with sorrow.

Rowan took a step closer to her. His hands went to her shoulders, travelling from there to her neck so he was cupping her cheeks in between his broad hands.

The thrumming in his veins was demanding he eliminated whatever had caused her to be in such a mood. His instincts were screaming at him to leap and destroy. To murder and comfort her. And his heart was crying for her.

"Isa, what happened? My phoenix, who did this to you?" He susurrated against her forehead.

He was trembling by trying to contain his own emotions so he could focus on her. So he could give and be what she needed.

"I-" Isabella choked out before she broke down in tears. Her knees gave up on her, and he prevented her from hurting herself as she fell on the floor.

He fell with her. Together, knee to knee, forehead to forehead, he cradled the back of her head while trying to soothe her. Her body shook with each sob, and he held her to him so she would know that he would not let go unless she wanted him to.

Slowly, her arms came to his sides, and soon after she was hugging him back. Asking for his body to fully grasp her. Lovingly, selflessly, effortlessly, he did so.

"I miss her" Isabella managed to say through her cries. "I miss them all so much. I need my parents. My family. I need them" Her words were a purposeless plea. A complaint to those who ruled over their lives.

It was simply the wail of a child who missed her parents.

He understood.

"I know, my heart. I know" He repeated in answer to her weeping.

"I thought I was getting better but it's always the same. I always fall back. I cannot break free from this cycle" Her words were muffled by his chest as she pressed herself to it.

"You are getting better, Isa. You are. And I'm so proud of you, you've no idea. You are brilliant." He tried to make her understand, he tried to convince her. If only she could read his thoughts, she would know that he spoke nothing but the truth.

She would know that his heart was full and summery because she carried it with her.

But she could not -not yet, maybe never- so his words fell on deaf ears as she continued to cry. All he could do was stay by her side, and hold her weight when she could not do it on her own.

-

It took hours until she calmed down. And it took her days to put herself back together into a resemblance of what she used to be.

Rowan observed it all from his place by her side. When she needed it, he gave her space. And when in the middle of the night, her hand sought out his between their bedrolls, he opened his palm before holding hers firmly.