The Faeyrwynn Prophecy: Chapter Seventeen

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A/N: First of all, I want to apologize for not uploading for so long. Seriously, you guys are awesome for sticking with me. There are a million things going on right now that make sticking to my writing pretty difficult, but I'm doing my best to keep it up. Second, this chapter is sort-of partial. I had originally planned it to be at least twice as long, but Chapter Eighteen will start up right where I left off. Hoping to get Chapter Eighteen up in the next few weeks. I have my 2 AP exams coming up and a job to go to everyday, but I'll try to catch up and upload for you all.

Enjoy the chapter guys, and let me know what you think(: Votes and comments are greatly appreciated.

~

“After team one engages the enemy, team two," the war advisor looks up to address the four of us, "will fight through and infiltrate the tower." 

I swallowed, my heart beating nervously at the prospect of rescuing my mother. 

"Once you secure Emily, you'll have to head East into neutral territory."

"The dryads?" Cyr asked. 

The advisor nodded, looking us all gravely in the eye.  He turned to Meila after a handful of seconds, hesitantly choosing his words with care. 

"Given the uh, results of our last mission..."

Meila's eyes hardened instantly. 

"...I've placed Genevieve in charge of navigations for this mission."

The blonde girl, slated to join us on our mission, steps forward. From where I stood behind her, I noticed that between the delicate plates of her braid, coppery strands of tinsel were interwoven. They twinkled conspicuously in the beam of sunlight coming through the room's only window. 

"It is an honor," she says simply. 

"And a curse," Meila adds in a whisper. I study her face, but it is cool and stoic, betraying nothing. 

Both the advisor and Genevieve ignore her comment, but Genevieve adds: "I will not fail you, sir." 

This time Meila refrains from commenting, instead choosing to simmer quietly, her mouth reduced to a hard, stubborn line. 

Shortly after, our company is dismissed and we disperse into the hallway. Before I even have a chance to talk to her, Meila is a blur of color, streaking down the hallway and out of sight.

On the walk back to my room, I mulled over the advisor’s plan. We were to travel to the Black Gryth forest down south, as well as fight and replenish other battalions’ supplies along the way.

And then finally, rescue my mom.

The task itself never ceased to be daunting, especially with Meila’s story still fresh in my mind. I felt guilty, knowing that she had no choice but to relive everything just for the sake of my prophecy.

Reaching my room, I let myself in and crossed over to the dresser. I slid the wooden drawers open, uncertain of what to pack. It wasn’t like anybody had handed me a list of necessities to pack for a do-or-die mission. Ironically, it reminded me of the time my aunt and uncle had decided to send me to a summer camp. Just like back then, I stood before my dresser without a clue of what to do.

“Need some help?” a voice offered softly at the doorway. I turned to see Meila leaning casually against the doorframe. Her expression was neutral, unreadable.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I replied sheepishly, running a hand through my hair and gesturing for her to come in.

Wordlessly, Meila took my side and began to expertly sift through my belongings, draping various articles of clothing over the crook of her elbow.

“There should be a travel bag in that closet over there,” she hinted, as it became apparent that I was out of my element.

After retrieving the bag, a surprisingly complicated and military-style kind of thing, Meila tossed the clothes onto the bed and perched herself on the bureau. The heels of her boots thudded lightly against the drawers.

Diligently, I began folding my clothes and stacking them away in the largest compartment of the bag.

“There’s a company dinner tonight,” Meila informed me, her tone wistful.

Well, that was news to me.

“Nobody told me,” I noted passively, wrestling a bulky coat and stuffing it into the bag.

“I just did,” she quipped.

“Besides, it’s a tradition. Might as well get to know the people who are willing to die for you.”

Her last few words had lost their sarcastic edge, inheriting the melancholy, vulnerable quality from the other night under the tree.

Without a second thought, I closed the space between us and pulled her off of the bureau and into a hug. Meila sighed sadly, burrowing into the space beneath my collarbone. Tiny pinpricks of cold dotted my shirt, and after a moment I realized she was crying.

The tears froze against the fabric, before melting from my body heat. From the window I could see the twin suns setting, and my bedroom’s shadows began to lengthen. I held Meila, listening to her breathing slow, until the pinpricks of ice became infrequent and her body relaxed against mine.

“It will be different this time,” I whispered, rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades. It honestly seemed like she didn’t mind physical contact anymore, and I couldn’t say I minded either.

Meila looked up at me, and our gazes locked. Her frosted blue eyes were uncharacteristically scared, pleading almost.

“I promise,” I added.

This time Meila hugged me, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling slowly before letting me go. She put on a brave face, wiping her cheeks free of any evidence of her breakdown with the heels of her hands.

“We should go get ready for the dinner,” Meila suggests, her voice trembling slightly but gaining strength as she went on. “Everyone’s meeting in the mess hall, and I’m pretty sure they would notice your absence.”

Meila flutters around the room, a ball of nervous energy as she plucks up the last few items and packs them away under a myriad of drawstrings and zippers.

“I really should go,” she says quietly, after she’s run out of things to do. She begins to turn around to exit, but I reach out and grasp her forearm just under the elbow, turning her to me. I tip her chin up, looking her in the eyes. The tiniest icicles cling to the corners of her eyelashes.

“If you ever need to talk, you know I’m always here for you, right?”

The corners of her mouth lift slightly into a sad smile.

“I’ll see you downstairs then, ok?”

Meila nods, and I smile as I let her go. It seemed more apparent now than ever that I would do anything to protect her. Maybe she would never need to be physically protected per se, but I could always try. I felt compelled to save her from herself, from the demons that never seemed to let her go. After all, I owed her that much. She was the one who found me, who gave me a life and a chance to get back what I thought I’d lost forever. 

Convincing myself that was the only reason I cared, I closed the door after her and got ready to take a shower.

~

Sorry for any mistakes, but I hope you enjoyed it(: Let me know what you think, you have no idea how happy I get to read your comments and feedback.

With love,

TheMockingbirdGirl

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⏰ Last updated: May 02, 2013 ⏰

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