All the Stars Between Us

The Inexplicable Conundrum of Morality

This one, however, had been different. Maeve had the tendency to act on her curiosity, or out of politics, usually never straying out of the two categories.

This girl was new. This girl was for power, raw and inexplicable. She could see the hunger in the Queen's eyes as she looked at her, and it made her uneasy.

And.. this girl. Akaeria did not understand it, did not understand how Maeve could love this weak little thing until that day. Sunlight glinting on her long brown hair, the girl was laughing as she spread a blanket on the grass of the royal gardens, petting the tatty mongrel that yipped happily at her heels.

Akaeria had watched in fascination from the oak above, and strangely, had found delight in this curious girl's pleasure. What had she to laugh about? She could not fight, could not defend her people with honour. But maybe that was not the way she was made to help.

Akaeria may have been inclined to fight her way out of most problems, but she was not completely rotten. This girl was innocent.

She still knew what was right (well, morally gray, at a stretch) and what was just plain evil, and this, she sensed with no small amount of concern, was pushing the borders a little more than she was comfortable with allowing.

Maeve's curiosity was a terrible thing. She could paint a butterfly with the most careful brushstrokes in order to study its wings, but she could just as easily tear the feather-thin canopy apart, bit by bit, to see how much the creature could take before it could no longer fly.

And then until it could no longer cling to its little life. She did so with a fascinated look that never failed to make Akaeria sick.

She did not understand the fundamental basics of right and wrong. It was as if she had no morality, no humanity at all, or maybe she did, and simply did not care. Akaeria was a soldier, not a Medic of the mind.

What made Maeve terrifying was not that she was cruel. It was that she was not. She did not have the capacity to be cruel, and she did not have the capacity to be humane. She simply was.

Akaeria shuddered, and almost fell out of the tree when Maeve stepped out from under it, a warm smile on her face.

"Akaeria, my love, why don't you come down, and we can discuss this rationally?" She did not bother raising her voice. The tree bent to her will, carrying her sound for her. "Or I could make you come down. It's your choice, really."

Akaeria closed her eyes momentarily before scaling quickly down the tree. She opened her mouth, but Maeve laid a graceful finger on her lips, and she immediately felt her voice die.

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a ragged gasp. Maeve smiled. "You don't need to think any longer. You feel sleepy, don't you?" Her voice was honey-sweet.

Akaeria felt her traitorous eyes start to droop, but she fought them open.

Maeve smiled wider, a delighted grin. "Oh, you will be interesting. I'll take care of you. You can sleep, I promise."

And then her vision darkened, and when she opened her eyes again, colours seemed soft and muted, as if her body was not hers to control anymore. And, as it turned out, it was not.

She watched events fold out where they would from the black-and-white depths of her mind. She felt a vague tugging sensation in her (was it hers?) gut every time something happened that she would prevent.

Sometimes she caught little snippets of her life. Her hands moving to lock an iron gate. Her fiery-red hair brushing against her back. Her- but it stopped, after a while, and all she had were the shadows in her mind, and her life playing out in front of her, like a badly-focused movie.