Trial by Flame

Chapter 3

"So you followed Eithien across two continents, let him get away after killing several rulers, then caught up with just in time for him to change his mind and decide murder's not his thing after all? And on top of that, Quinn's secretly been some demon-angel hybrid all along, Miss Clariya's her mother, Elyria's actually a super powerful god vessel, Mirtis and Eithien are the undead ex-princes of Rith, you all are part of a world-ending prophecy, and Hjerti's coming for everyone after putting the entire continent of Embrias to sleep?"

"And that's not even mentioning the drama with Iryn," Tellik mentioned. What might have been humor was defeated by his own exhaustion.

"Or the dragon!" Mirtis added in, a bit too enthusiastically.

"Or Mirtis' whole identity crisis," Trelisti commented quietly. "Why's nobody mentioning that he dropped that shitty accent?"

Mirtis either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him, though if Quinn had to guess, it was the former. He and everyone else were distracted by Sysevenie, trying to offer context for seemingly-impossible events and filling in whatever holes they'd missed the first time around. It didn't feel real to hear the story roll off someone else's tongue, didn't feel right to have the last few weeks reduced to a couple simple sentences. It wasn't that she wanted attention, it just...

It felt wrong for everything to be told so neatly. For all of the struggles, all of the tears and gore and torture to be reduced so thin. It made the threat seem small.

And she knew, knew so painfully well, how large it really loomed.

"I'm sure it'll take time for all of this to sink in," Sysevenie said, slowing as they reached the edge of the woods. The distance snuffed out the last bit of sun, shifting her bright yellow hair to greyscale. "But for now, it's too much to think about. You might as well focus on recovering lost energy–well, that and seeing the others. I wonder how they'll react when they see it: my turn to hunt, and instead I come back with more mouths to feed," she snickered to herself. "We're lucky they like you all."

"Is food hard to come by, now?" Quinn asked, wrinkling her brows in concern. Only now did she pay attention to Sysevenie's lack of armor, which was instead replaced by standard, working-class linens. "You've never been the hunting type."

She hesitated for a moment, then answered. "It's not so much scarce as a change in roles. Now that we're in a state of relative peace, a lot of our allies returned to their own lands. Even with Siber's leftover soldiers joining us, we're pretty shorthanded. We don't need fighters as much as hunters, cooks, healers...y'know, the like."

"I never thought I'd see the day," Trelisti uttered to Quinn's side. She couldn't help but agree; after so many years of dreaming, normalcy finally being within reach felt too good to be true.

And with Hjerti set free in Anethia, it probably was. But Quinn felt no reason to remind anyone of that.

"I'm sorry for leaving you when I did," she said instead, a string tensing around her heart. It had been there since the moment she set foot from Everhold, loose at first, but tightening each day. "It was selfish of me to make you all deal with the aftermath. I should have been here, helping."

"Don't waste your breath," Sysevenie answered, almost tiredly. "With as much as I've heard you went through, this is nothing. I doubt a few people would have made a huge difference anyway."

Whether the answer was honest or not, the guilt remained. Quinn could almost feel a matching shame on Eithien's end—he lingered silently in the back, features dim and clouded. It seemed not even villains could live without regret.

"Then how's Maenas doing? And Mara?" Quinn asked, nervousness crawling up her bones. She knew they were probably fine, but she couldn't shake that wary sense, that fear that something was wrong.

"Mara's doing fine for the most part. Her biggest complaint is that she doesn't spend as much time in the woods as she'd like," Sysevenie answered with a slight eye roll, animated by her eyes' sheer size. "As for Maenas...he's alright, but definitely dealing with some stress. Not that he'd ever say it."

"Typical," answered Quinn and Trelisti, unsurprised to hear their voices match. This was a song long sung.

"Does that mean he's sorting out the politics here, then?" Quinn continued alone. The others' footsteps faded to a patter as they left the forest entirely, now following the dirt path towards the entrance of Everhold. Ahead, Quinn saw the stable's torches ignite at a firebrand's touch.

"Trying to," she answered flatly. "They made a lot of progress the first few days--the initial plan to divide power in the capital and have representatives from other towns faced little argument. From what I've heard, they're just held up about how much influence Everhold itself should have. Maenas wants to balance independence with regulation, so it doesn't feel like there's a king all over again."

Quinn tried to picture the argument in her head, but gave up quickly. She could handle the most blaring ideas—that tyranny was bad, anarchy was worse, and there'd always have to be some compromise—but intricate politics weren't her strength. As much as she hated to make him bear the weight, there was nobody more suited to handle it.

"He's not alone, though, if it makes you feel any better," Sysevenie continued, noticing Quinn's troubled expression. "Mara's helping, obviously, but there's also a whole group working it out with him behind the scenes. Civilians, soldiers, representatives and guild members...everyone wants to see a better future. They have their arguments, yes, but their end goal is still peace. That's enough to unite anyone around here."

That eased a shred of Quinn's worries. Though she didn't think politics could ever be perfect, seeking unity was a start.

"Plenty more people about," Mirtis observed as they continued down the street. Here, the road split, with the castle entrance and stables ahead while the side roads were paved with cobblestone. Residents walked along the streets, some lugging carts and baskets, others with painted lips and frilly nightwear. A loose patrol of soldiers stood among them—some with faces that Quinn recognized, but didn't know well enough to approach. "Don't think I've ever seen this many out while it's dark."

Sysevenie answered unbothered. "It's safe enough to be. We've been taking steps to reduce crime since before we even took the keep. It's just easier now that we're not also considered criminals. Don't have to avoid getting caught by guards."

Quinn could almost hear Trelisti's silent comment. Speak for yourself.

"Hm. That's good news," Mirtis said, though he hushed as they continued past the hay-and-dirt floor of the stables. The man tending to them gave him a leery glance, no doubt questioning his blue skin and wiry tail.

He was met with a threatening glare from Eithien and the most condescending smile Elyria had ever worn.

"Now that I think about it," Quinn said, mumbling more to herself than any one person. "We're kind of drawing attention, aren't we?"

One look at the group was more than the answer she needed. Between the faintly-glowing runes on Clariya's arms and her generally vibrant aura, Mirtis' flaming orange eyes among his other anomalous features, Elyria's high elven grace and Tellik's clearly-foreign dress, her own crown of white against otherwise inky locks...

"Let's just be grateful nobody else has recognized Eithien," Mirtis replied cautiously. "I'm not sure we'll be able to convince everyone he's not a threat."

"Hey. I look pretty generic compared to most of you," Eithien said, defending himself lazily. "Aside from my scar, I guess, but it's a more common one than you'd think."

"Sure. But you weren't exactly subtle when you sliced Lyris in half," Quinn said back, scrunching her brows at the memory. "Doing that in front of the entire guild—not to mention a fair portion of the city—didn't do you any favors."

He shrugged. "I'll cross that bridge when I get there."

"Better figure it out quick, then," Sysevenie said, steps slowing as she approached the gate. "Because we've just arrived."