UNCONSCIOUSNESS SEEMED a distant friend that Clara was prepared to embrace at any moment, the deep soulless eyes of the Hollow the last thing in her mind. However, seconds ticked by until it turned a full minute and her awareness remained tethered in the present reality.
She risked a narrow peek behind one eyelid and found three blurry outlines in front of her. With eyes wide open, her jaw fell to the ground as she took in the scene before her.
Clara didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She didn't know if the sight of Willow imprisoning the Hollows, unmoving and time-frozen inside a wind shell, was a product of her imagination. A hallucination she conjured at this time of need and desperation.
"Willow," she croaked and the princess almost wept when the little Familiar responded to her call. "I'm not dreaming, am I? You're really here."
Willow sighed. She bobbed closer to Clara's face to caress her cheek with her fluffy cloud-like hand. "Princess."
A small laugh escaped Clara's lips. "Not 'Witch' this time?"
Clara swore Willow had rolled her eyes at her (if she had one), but the Familiar returned her attention to the suspended form of the two Hollows, faces frozen mid-scream. Their limbs were splayed as if they were struggling from being lifted off the ground before time froze for them. And their grayish skins turned a shade of blue, cracks appearing as if their bodies were made of fragile glass.
"What have you done, Willow?" Clara pushed herself off the tree, knees as soft and weak as jellies. "I didn't even notice you arrived. How did you find me here?"
"The freezing temperature of the wind merely froze these Hollows into ice. The tainted blood frozen in their veins will thaw once I let go of this wind shell that contains them. And for your second question, I'm afraid it will be much easier if the others would be the ones to explain it to you."
"Others? You don't mean..." Clara's breathing hitched and tears started to pool around her eyes. "Oh, Holly."
"Maxwell, too, and the other Eirinian prince..." Willow paused. Wind gathered around her feet which threatened to carry her off the ground.
"Willow?"
"With them is some strange girl that I've never seen before."
"But surely, if Prince Eadric is with her, then perhaps she's someone we can trust."
The wind calmed into a gentle breeze as Willow tilted her small featureless head to the side. "Who said something about Prince Eadric?"
"Isn't he the other Eirinian prince who came looking for us?"
"Not Prince Eadric, no." Clara jumped at the arrival of the new voice. She spun to see Flynn and Emir emerging from the thick foliage. Flynn sauntered in leisurely steps as if nothing in the world could bother him. The side of his lips was curled to the side, thumbs were tucked inside the pockets of his gray trouser. And Emir, oh poor Emir, had twigs and leaves sticking from his hair and clothes. The lines and contours of his face were twisted in a manner that no painter could paint.
Clara ran to them and Flynn welcomed her with arms wide open. But his bright smile fell when the princess zoomed past him to fuss over Emir.
"Are you feeling alright?" Clara said. She tended to the dark, brooding prince like a mother to a child, brushing off the dirt on his face and shirt, smoothing the curls of his disheveled hair, and inspecting his body of cuts and wounds.
The strained lines on Emir's face relaxed. He couldn't remember when was the last time someone had gone all the way to check on him. He was the dark prince, cold and unfeeling. No one expected him to complain about a single scratch even when he was still a child. His mother, the person who ever made him feel wanted, was gone too soon. As a result of that tragedy, his remaining family made him unworthy of love and care. It was ingrained in his mind that he didn't deserve it.
Emir wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and the princess stilled, her body gone rigid like stone. The prince smiled despite himself. He was starting to get used to being this close to her, the princess he relentlessly pushed away at first.
Flynn grunted. "Lovely. Can I get a hug too? I saved your dear prince's life, princess."
"Don't mind him," Emir whispered in her ear and she was suddenly ticklish.
Clara extricated herself from the prince's grip. Crimson splotches invaded her cheeks. They were in the presence of an audience whilst being in an intimate position. She couldn't look up from her feet, but why did she feel like there was smugness playing on Emir's face?
"No one saved anyone, Flynn. You just happened to pass by when I was about to deliver that Hollow to the mercy of the Light." Emir caught her wrist and pulled her with him to the others. He cast a smoldering gaze at the Hollows' suspended forms inside the shell.
Feelings of shame aside, Clara found the strength to look at Flynn. Something was knowing and playful that tugged the corners of her lips. Something like a secret shared just between the two of them. And she knew all too well what that secret was. She fought back the urge to beg for his silence. At least, Flynn wasn't saying anything for now. Clara swore to all the kings and queens that if he uttered a single word about...
Something snapped in her head. Clara replayed Willow's words about the people who went with her to search for them. Maxwell and some strange girl. With them was one Eirinian prince.
The truth was already there, ready to bite her. It was just waiting for her to piece it together.
Heat rose from her neck to her face. All along she'd been led to believe that Flynn was no more than a royal advisor to the king. That explained why she never saw him around the palace. Still, it was her fault she never inquired about him to Anneliese's father.
"You..." Clara drawled, her voice devoid of emotion. "You are not some royal advisor to the Leighton family, are you?"
"A royal advisor?" Emir raised a brow, but Clara didn't spare him a glance. Her sharp glare remained directed at the other prince.
Flynn chuckled and scratched his stubbled jaw. "I may have joked a little about my identity to the princess."
"For what?" Clara spat.
He shrugged. "Nothing. I just thought it was fun." He sauntered towards her and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Aren't you enjoying this little play of pretend though?"
It was a threat that made her go still. Clara leaned away. She pursed her lips and swallowed, her emotions swinging between hatred, anger, and fear.
Emir pulled Flynn away from her. His hands weighed heavy on the other prince's shoulder. "You may want to keep your distance, Prince Flynn."
Flynn whistled. "She isn't yours but you're becoming territorial. Careful. You aren't the only one who has his eyes on the prize." He gave Clara an easy smile. The way he could easily change his mood sent gooseflesh to crawl on her skin. Flynn bowed his head curtly. "Prince Flynn Valor of the Southern Kingdom, Notus."
Clara flashed him a forced smile. "It's not a pleasure meeting you," she said, earning a thunderous laugh that created ripples in the wind and shook the birds out of their nests.
"I hate to interrupt, Your Highnesses, but I suggest we attend to the matter at hand before more of these Hollows arrive," Willow said, twisting the wind shell like a spinning top. The Hollows in the confines crushed against each other.
"Ah, yes. Dealing with the matter at hand." Flynn pulled out a Carrier from the inside pocket of his coat. He rolled the small object between his fingers until it expanded to the size of a fist. It opened with a click and sucked the wind shell along with the Hollows inside. It snapped shut with a hiss. It was just gray smoke inside the Carrier and two tiny black dots that Clara assumed were the shriveled forms of the Hollows.
Flynn tucked it back safely inside his inner coat pocket, patting it. "Best to bring prisoners with us for questioning. Now, who craves some hot soup?"
IF THERE WAS anything the past days taught Clara, it was that anything wasn't always what it seemed.
The Mystic Forest brought a chilly wind inside the cold shack owned by Malini, the old woman she ran to in the forest when she attempted an escape from Flynn on the way to Rovenshire.
Malini had been stirring the soup in what felt like the second hour in her baggy floral nightdress that barely hung in her bony limbs. She was as paper white as Clara remembered her and what was left of her thin platinum hair was tied in a loose bun. Her fingers were gnarly and thin, her body was skin and bones. But she moved as swiftly as the wind and as lively as a child. She had the builder's strength to carry the pot without help, lifted a heavy metal ladle with her old woman's hand, and dashed around the room with the strongest knees to fetch ingredients for her soup. It was all the more reason Clara couldn't fully trust her. Malini was more than a fragile old woman on her deathbed.
However, the instant Clara stepped inside the shack's threshold, she was instantly wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and was eased down onto a threadbare sofa, fire burning in the hearth and a soup ready to be served. Malini fussed over her cuts and bruises and she applied salve to them. She even offered to bake some cookies for her. In truth, she was lovely. And the thought of it all as only an act to gain her trust broke Clara's heart. It wasn't hard getting attached to the woman in such a short time. Clara dreamed of this moment before, of having a grandmotherly figure when hers had been dead long before she'd been born. Theon was the lucky one. He would tell fond stories about their grandparents while Clara could only long and dream.
The old woman caught the look on her face and smiled. She said in a sandpaper voice, "Magic keeps it from burning. This soup is a secret family recipe. The longer it boils over the fire of the Twilight Fir's burning log, the richer the flavor will be. My granddaughter would love some nice hot soup when she comes back."
Clara blew the steam rising from the soup, steepling her fingers around the cup to savor its warmth. "I have so much to ask that I don't know where to start, but I simply want to know about you."
Malini paused and stared at her long, her expression giving away nothing. Then she continued to stir.
"I have every reason not to trust you. I am jeopardizing my safety just by being here. The home of someone I barely know," Clara added, leaning forward. "This encounter is not a mere chance. I don't know if you remember but we already met once before. And here we are, our paths destined to cross again."
The old woman sighed, and a few strands of her hair fell on her forehead. "I've nothing to hide from you, Your Highness. You can ask anything you like and I'll answer as much as I can." She moved over to a table full of herbs and first aid tools and retrieved a tiny vial containing a green liquid.
"Is your name Malini?"
Amusement broke free from her lips. Malini limped her way across the room to sit on the pouf chair in front of her. "And your first question had to be my name."
"You can just easily give us a random name to keep your identity a secret."
"And yet, I have no reason to. What makes you think that?"
"Anyone would doubt a person who builds a shack in the middle of The Mystic Forest."
"In other words, I'm insane."
Clara pursed her lips. She cast a glance at the kitchen's back door, wondering what was taking Willow, Emir, and Flynn too long.
"I am Malini Neireds and I have a granddaughter named Estel from Estelia where she was born."
The cup between Clara's hands almost slipped from her grip. Despite the insistence, she wasn't expecting to hear that kind of answer. How could that one simple answer contain such revelation?
Malini threw her a curious look. The wrinkled corners of her mouth quivered as she suppressed whatever emotion from slipping. Unfurling the blankets that covered the princess' body, she assessed the wounds and the drying salve working its magic.
"E-Estelia," Clara sputtered, eyes wide in shock. She visibly flinched at Malini's touch as if electrocuted. "The forgotten city from the kingdom of Sierra."
Malini hummed as she caught her left arm once again to check on her wounds. "Estelia indeed is a forgotten city as you said. Quite contrary to everyone's belief, the city isn't desolate with people. The place is just as rich and thriving as any other city in the kingdom. Why, though, is it considered forgotten?"
"Because the Guardian Deity sank the entire city under the earth," Clara whispered. "A punishment was cast to those who stole and pillaged from other cities. Even the innocents suffered from the actions of the sinners. Years passed and people simply forgot Estelia existed. Some sort of spell was placed on its entrance that forbids passage to outsiders."
"Or for Estelia's residents to bring things from the outside," Malini added.
"But that doesn't hinder them from ever going outside. Some fled their homes but most stayed and refused to see the world out of shame. Over the years, historians started to call it the Forgotten City because it's hidden and people simply forgot that it's there. Isn't that right?"
"You are most certainly right. Are you done with the soup? Here, drink this potion. It shall give you back the strength that you lost."
Clara gingerly lifted the vial's mouth to her lips and drank. The liquid bit her tongue and sent a fiery trail down her throat, but she downed it anyway.
"I must say I'm surprised with your knowledge of the city. Have you, perhaps, met someone who used to live there? I know a few others who fled Estelia with us. Maybe I can recognize that someone by name." Malini busied herself with wiping the dried salve from her skin to replace it with a copper-colored ointment that was cool to the skin when applied.
The liquid Clara bore a hole in her stomach. Sweat formed below her hairline. "I know no one from the Forgotten City. I was taught well by the palace scholars and I read a lot in my free time." She cleared her throat and drawled, "So, Estelia. That makes you an Earthal then."
Malini nodded with a smile. "Do you wish to see how I heal with my Earthal power, Your Highness?"
No, she uttered to herself. She knew all too well how an Earthal's affinity to nature's healing property works, but she would risk giving herself away.
"Go on," she said to the old woman instead. She watched in anticipation as Malini's pale, shaking hands hovered above a crusted wound on her left elbow. Clara waited and waited expectantly, but nothing happened.
Not until she started to feel certain heat, contrasting the freezing temperature of the wind outside the shack and seeping through the shutters. The trembling of Malini's hands heightened the longer the healing drew. The struggle was evident in the old woman's scrunched face. A silent grumble rolled behind her throat, her teeth grinding. There was some sort of momentary dullness in the old woman's eyes before flickering back to blue and then dull again.
Concern won out and Clara reached for Malini's hands to put a stop to her healing. The fire beneath the simmering pot of soup swayed in a reposeful dance. It reflected in the old woman's eyes. At the back of her mind, she heard it whisper garbled words.
"What?" Clara said in an undertone. But something other than the red-orange glow of the dancing fire illuminated the dim room. A soft emerald light gleamed at the corner of her eye. The glow surrounded the woman's hands, dimming and brightening in turn as if breathing.
Clara remained stock-still as she beheld the unblemished skin knitted over the crusted blood, completely unaware of the presence of the two princes who happened to come through the back door and witnessed the healing.
Sure, Eirinia had experienced healers who were taught and studied medicine at their disposal, but they could not heal a small wound in seconds like an Earthal. Their affinity to healing came from nature itself, not just from the secondary knowledge of how the body works and what herbs and medicine work best in certain illnesses. However, it came at the cost of an Earthal's strength.
Malini's shoulders slumped. Her body swayed and collapsed backward. Clara was closest and dived to catch the woman, but Emir reached her first. She was barely conscious, her eyes fluttering closed.
Clara shot up from the seat and gave her place to the old woman. The princess placed the pillow at the back of her head. Malini's chest rose and fell, her shallow breathing evening out, and the woman was fast asleep.
"Nature has taken from her health, a meager price to pay for drawing out the power to heal," Clara said, breaking the silence with a forlorn expression on her face. "Everything comes with a price."
"I've learned in my travels that Earthals don't use their gifts much and only when it is badly needed. Now I see why." From across the room, Flynn caught her eyes for only a second before she pulled away.
At that moment, she was tempted to do the same. Clara felt the urge to heal, to take away the wariness and share her strength with the old woman. But doing so would expose herself to Emir. Clara bit her lip and chanted a mantra in her head to rein her Earthal power on a leash.
The shack's front door banged open. The gusty wind of the forest howled into the night and snuffed the flames inside the room. A cosmic shadow cast on the floor as someone stepped through the doorway in haste.
"Malini!"