MAEVE [Arc 1]

Chapter 1: Maeve

It's midnight.
Screams cover a village of an olden era as a shattered moon lights the night sky. Inside one of the wooden houses, a little girl with long brown hair grips the knees of her mother. Explosions and gunfire can be heard just outside their village. The mother yells towards the suited soldier who stands at their open front door with a rifle at hand. They speak for only a second, nodding at each other in a brief moment of reassurance. As the man leaves the house, the mother turns to her daughter. She looks down at the young blue eyed girl still gripping onto her leg. Without further hesitation, she huddles her over, escorting the young girl into a bedroom. The girl's mother frantically leads her to the bed in the far right corner. As they stop just before the lip of the bed, the mother gets on her knees and undoes her necklace, placing it around the child. The mother reassures the child in the words of a French language.

Mother:
"Je sais que tu n'en as plus besoin pour l'instant, mais je suis sûre que tu en auras besoin bientôt. Garde-le sur toi à tout moment, au moins jusqu'à ce que tu arrives à gérer la mana toute seule."
[I know you have no use for it now, but I'm sure you will need it soon. Keep it on you at all times, at least until you can manage mana on your own.]

The girl looks upon the familiar necklace in confusion.

Little Girl:
"Qu'est-ce que tu veux dire?"
[What do you mean—]

Mother:
"Je n'ai pas le temps d'expliquer maintenant."
[I do not have the time to explain right now.]

Pushing her along, she hides the child beneath the bed, saying only words of reinforcement to ensure her daughter that everything will be fine.

Mother:
"Tu es ma petite tigronne. Le sang de ton père coule en toi, comme le mien."
[You are my little tigron. The blood of your father runs within you, as does mine.]

Little Girl:
"Je croyais que j'étais à moitié tigronne."
[I thought I was half tigron.]

The mother chuckles with a smile. She looks upon the girl with the eyes of a loving mother.

Mother:
"Ok petite maligne... à MOITIÉ tigronne."
[Okay, smarty pants... HALF-tigron.]

"Tu n'as peut-être pas de queue ou d'oreilles de chat comme ton père. Mais tu as sans nul doute la bravoure et le courage que lui et moi avons toujours eus."
[You may not have a tail or the eyes of a cat like your father does, but you certainly have the bravery and courage that he and I have always had.]

"Tu es autant une guerrière que moi, et peut-être plus."
[You are just as strong of a warrior as I am, if not stronger.]

Little Girl:
"Mais j'ai peur..."
[But I'm scared...]

Mother:
"Nous avons tous peur. C'est normal d'avoir peur. Mais tout se passera bien."
[We're all scared. It's okay to be scared. But you're going to be alright.]

"Maeve, je te protègerai, je le promets—"
[Maeve, I'll protect you. I promise—]

Suddenly, everything erupts into a violent torrent of splinters and nails. The walls around Maeve melt away, turning into that of a blistering fire. Cascades of dust rain down as remnants of the building collapse around her. She covers her ears in pain as the ringing of bells clatter her senses. She screams out for her mother but to no avail. She hears nothing. It was as if her own voice had been robbed from her, taken away and locked behind the pain that now consumes her.
She has been left all but deaf. The dust and sulfur in the air fill her lungs. She covers her mouth but it makes no difference. She rages in a coughing fit, unable to breathe or speak. As the dust settles, she opens her eyes only to see near pitch-black darkness. The bed creaks as the weight of the rubble bears down on the metal frame above her. She lays there, motionless, unable to move from the fear that has overtaken her. She calls out once more to her mother, pleading for her at the top of her lungs. She waits, but her patience is unanswered.