How to Find your Way in the Incomplete Archives

Three

'An interesting take,' the Librarian seemed surprised, 'But would it not bother you if you could not get back to your people? If you were left here forever?'

"With the way my memories are right now, if it weren't for you mentioning that I have a story, I wouldn't mind staying here. I reckon I could enjoy your company," she finished with a grin.

'I... Is that so?' Did she feel her companion blush? It was a delicate moment that spread through her thoughts in warm ripples.

'In any case, since we are here, you should return to your people. I wish you all the best for your future,'

"Thank you again," the warrior princess touched the cover of the book. A light engulfed her body in a soft glow as her form started to fade, "Farewell, my friend,"

The woman was gone.

The hooded figure caught the book before it dropped to the ground, 'Friend, has a nice ring to it,'

****

"The Princess has returned to us!" A familiar voice addressed an unseen audience. Hushed cheers echoed through the darkness after the triumphant declaration.

Archaea opened her eyes to see a dark ceiling of uneven rocks overhead. Oil torches lit up the rough walls with their flickering flames.

Sensation returned to her numbed limbs. She could feel the dampness that had soaked through her clothes, dried in uneven clumps upon her chest and abdomen. When she opened her mouth to speak she could produce no sounds. Her throat was hoarse.

"You mustn't strain yourself, My Lady, you are yet recovering," the blond man kneeling at her side said to her. He was still decked in full armour.

Her lips moved in a silent request.

"Here, My Lady," the steady, dark hands held out a leather pouch to her parched lips. The refreshing taste of cold spring water washed away the burning in her throat.

It gave her the strength to utter her first words, "Arlan, how did the plan go?"

A momentary gleam appeared in his solemn eyes, "All is as you had hoped, My Lady. We have resurrected the fallen with the Essence of Duality."

"All of my people?"

"We have lost four of our men. It was too late by the time I reached them. Their bodies were far too broken to hold a soul," a raw bitterness hung over the cruel outcome.

"I see," a dull ache hammered in her chest, "Do not... blame yourself,"

Archaea turned her head to the side. Even in the shadowy twilight, she recognised the cave.

It was a place she recalled as if from a distant dream. This cave was chosen with the help of their Priest on an unremarkable day not long after her coronation. The Elders had called overly cautious for choosing an emergency shelter in peaceful times. She had believed them then, not expecting to use it in her lifetime.

The place was well hidden, inside a series of caverns in the depths of the Boglands, a difficult terrain shielded from outsiders. The stone altar on which her body rested was a later addition, in preparation for the invasion by the Holy Army.

This was the chosen land where they were to perform the Resurrection Ceremony for their fallen comrades once the enemies had moved on.

She had made a perilous gamble but death was the only way to survive the powerful Blodwenian army. Her people had entrusted her with their lives.

The flowing memories welled up as tears. "I'm grateful," she managed to whisper. Her Advisor maintained a respectful silence.

Archaea tried to push herself up into a sitting position.

"Careful, My Lady," He steadied her with a firm hand on her back.

"Arlan, we must stay in hiding for now... till our forces recover," her throat was strained from the effort, "Do we have enough... supplies?"

He answered with the ease of efficiency, a quality she admired in him, "With our current numbers, the food and water should last us another moon at conservative estimates. Rest assured, My Lady, the rationing system is already in effect,"

"Good. There is one other... one last thing to do. We must... arrange... proper funerals for our departed,"

The man bowed his head, "Yes, My Lady,"

She dismissed him. Her body had regained enough strength for her to remain seated. From her vantage point on the raised altar, she could see her tribesmen gathered in small groups along the walls of the cavern.

This hidden haunt with its current inhabitants was the last refuge of the Bogland Tribe after their encounter with the Holy Army. It was a hard fought battle with dire consequences. Their Priest, Erdith, had forewarned her of the outcome – Archaea would die.

Yet here she was, past the unavoidable, with the help of her people. The world had blessed them with a second chance and she would make the most of it for the sake of those that put their trust in her.

Her people had lost everything.

The passing enemy had razed their homes and farmlands to the ground. All for the crime of refusing to denounce their beliefs in favour of the Holy Maiden, for daring to defy her heavy-handed rule.

However, their faces remained cheerful. No gathering sorrow clouded their brows. Considering the sheer numbers of their enemy, it was no less than a miracle that her people still lived. She would not let their sacrifices be in vain.

Archaea swore to herself that she would mete out a fitting judgement – the Holy Maiden, Luna, would fall by her hands.