Time passes. Even in a Realm where the people remain stagnant; where there is grief in the hearts of those who wish time would stop forever, time survives, and time moves on.
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Tarin's elites dragged him out of the base even as they overpowered Eris. On the trip back to Azure, they mixed Tarin's - and Eris' - water with the sedative potion Eris and her cohorts were so fond of, keeping him unconscious until he was back in his castle bedroom. Eris walked herself into her dungeon cell with the help of the twins, he later heard. The woman was bound completely and without hope of either escaping or harming herself just to in some way hurt Serena, in the case of there being a connection between the two of them. No matter who spoke to her, Eris would say nothing more than 'nothing has changed.'
Once he awoke, Tarin was told by the twins of the immense store of power Eris held inside of her that she had not seemed to realize the depths of yet. He was not surprised. He had felt it for himself, and had always known how powerful Serena had the potential to be. Eris did not seem all that concerned with being in the castle cells of Azure, regardless of the fact that they were reinforced with heavy enchantments that, ironically enough, made casting any magic from inside of them impossible.
Tarin lost nearly all will to endure. The threat went silent once Eris was captured, the base left empty of even the furniture. Triana would not speak to him; the only benefit of which was that he was not banished from the city. The only thing that kept him going was the bit of hope that he could not completely extinguish in his heart. After all, his princess was alive.
A true allegiance, rather than just a casual indifference, was struck between the Fae and the Eternal Ones; King Kavras and Queen Pevana signed the treaty along with Queen Triana, an outward sign of mutual defense. Teams of Eternals had been sent into the mortal world to scour it for the lost princess.
He could not bear to have anything but faith in the possibility of Serena returning. It was salt in his wounds every second of every day, that he could not be joining in the search for her. However, his mind never abandoned its thoughts of her; the images, the sound of her voice, her laugh in his head was all the hope he had left.
He would not abandon it. Even if he abandoned everything else.
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Nobody kept Serena in their house for long. It was too much work, perhaps, to deal with a girl with amnesic syndrome. After a while of making exceptions for her and coddling her as if she was unable to function at all, each foster family seemed relieved to pass her on to the next. It did not take long for this sort of life to take its toll on Serena's emotional state; gradually, she began to feel that there was nobody who would ever care for her. She could not remember anything about her parents, though her social worker insisted that they had both been criminals that she was better off without. Serena did not know how the man knew anything about her parents if everybody, it seemed, knew nothing about the rest of her history. But she did not question it, because there were such greater questions flowing through her vastly empty mind.
She learned her first life lesson when she was only eight years old: Being without a companion made the idea of the future seem grey and unappealing.
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Two years of the Realm wearing grey to mourn their lost princess. Not black, as that would signify her departure from this world, but grey, the middle, the in-between. Grey, that represented a hope that she would someday be found once more.
Tarin missed her every day. Every second.
He had accepted Ambrose as one of his elites, and the archer had integrated himself with surprising tenacity. The elites still looked to Tarin for instruction, and while they had the drawback of having to deal with his new emotionless mask, they were benefitted by his utter lack of regard for others in that they learned to be ruthless as they had never been before.
Queen Triana had spoken to him again, but only long enough to kick him off of her council and tell him that she no longer felt comfortable having him live in the castle with her, based on the notion that she had expected results by now, and she was no longer sure that he could be trusted by the crown. Where once they had been friends and allies, the queen had sufficiently phased him out of her life, some part of her being unable to stop blaming him for what had happened. He did not blame her for that, and acquiesced to all of her requests without argument.
He had a feeling he was only allowed to maintain his position as general of the armies because of how violent he had become. There was simply nobody better suited to the task of keeping the warriors in top condition, prepared to destroy at a moment's notice. He focused all of his energy on fighting during training, and physically had to hold himself back from delivering the killing blows.
Nobody looked like a friend to him anymore.
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Ten birthday candles marked seven different foster homes. Seven, in three years. She had never remained in one place long enough to make a lasting friend. She had never stayed in one house long enough to form the type of bond that she had heard other kids talk about. She had never stayed in one school long enough to even get to know the teachers. She was admitted, and then she was sent out the door a few months later, once the social worker came and told her that another family was waiting for her.
She was always convinced that it was her fault. She must have done something wrong. She could just never figure out what it was that she had done; after all, she hardly ever spoke to anyone. She always did her chores. Her room was spotlessly clean. She never caused trouble that she could tell, besides the fact that she had trouble answering questions occasionally - but so would anyone about their past, if they had amnesia clouding their mind.
People would talk to her at school, but there seemed to be something about her that drove them away rather than kept them close. Perhaps it was the sadness that pervaded every movement she made, or the desperation for some sort of escape from her reality that was tangible in every word she uttered. So she would sit alone, and when she got back to her foster home later in the day, she would go to her room and shut the door, focusing on her homework as if it was the only thing that mattered.
As if her completion of the assignment would not be meaningless once she left that school, too, in just a little while.
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On the princess' eleventh birthday, Tarin appealed to the Eternal court.
'Appealed' was probably the wrong word, actually. 'Attacked' was more like it.
He yelled and yelled and yelled. Not even the king or queen interrupted him as he let loose the aches of his heart and soul. 'How can it be that you have not found her yet?' he would demand. And always, always, he would come back to the argument that 'I would have found her by now. I would have brought her home.'
He would have; he knew it. Unfortunately, he did not have a choice but to rely on his allies to get the job done. If he entered the mortal world with his magic, he would perish before he even had the chance to track his princess down. If he gave his magic up to somebody and they died or proved untrustworthy, then he would again perish and be no good to her at all. He would never get to see her again, or swear to her that if she forgave him, he would be her servant for the rest of eternity, and would never let anything, anything, ever happen to her again.
The Eternal Ones, on the other hand - they might have a chance. After all, it was known that Eternal Ones could survive in the mortal world, but none actually lived there for any stretch of time. It was their guess that once their systems became accustomed to the different world, their immortality would begin to dwindle. And it was the Fae's hope that it would never take that long for Serena to be found.
But-- four years. It had already been four years. Tarin had lived so many years, had watched the passing of so many seasons, and yet never had they seemed so long and fruitless as these past four. It was as if the suns had set the day the princess was taken from him, and they just decided never to rise again.
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The foster parents who owned the big blue house in the middle of the country were Serena's favorites. They were nicer to her than many of the others, tried to draw her out of the room to play games with the other children, and once, the mother even hugged her before bed, and told Serena that if she ever wanted to talk, she would be there for her. Serena appreciated it, though she would never have said so out loud, and suspected that the woman had only embraced her because she saw the scars that marred Serena's forearms.
Then one day, the social worker came for Serena. Her foster parents argued that they had no problem with her staying, that they did not want to give her up, but the social worker insisted that they had no choice. Her foster father swore that he would take the case up in court - whatever that meant - but Serena already felt a sense of hopelessness settle in the base of her gut. This had happened so many times, and she was unable to discern why this time would be any different. Why it would yield any different results.
Her foster mother hugged her before the social worker led her into the car; looked her in the eye and insisted that she and her husband would settle this, that Serena would be back living with them in no time. Serena merely nodded and tried not to cry; something she had not done for a while.
She watched the big blue house become a speck in the distance through the window as the car drew her away from it forever.
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The winter of Serena's thirteenth year arrived with a hell-driven fury.
And an army.
The Realm had been quiet for so long that Tarin would have been surprised, if he allowed himself to feel anything but that flicker of hope in the depths of his heart. As it was, he merely accepted the fact of the Eternal invasion systemically. His life had become a system of step-by-step processes: wake up, eat, train, eat, train, sleep. Fending off a rebel army was only one more step to add to his schedule; nothing to dwell upon. The day he allowed his thoughts to stray from his princess was the day he knew he had lost all hope, and all purpose.
Kavras and Pevana were true to the treaty. Troops were sent to the Realm immediately upon the knowledge of the approaching rebel army - Eternal rebels that had come to be known as 'Infernals' by that time, as the Eternal royalty did not want any association with them. Tarin led his own troops out of Azure to meet them, and together, the Fae and the Eternals marched on Estrell Plain.
Tarin was pleased to see that their ally Eternals were competent fighters on the battlefield. They were not nearly as fast or light-footed as the Fae, but they were at least far better than the Infernals they were facing, and that was all that mattered.
Tarin had led the charge into the enemy army's ranks with his blood like fire in his veins. His magic incinerated a good portion of the rebels before his sword was even out of its sheath, and once the weapon was slicing through both bone and sinew as if they were butter, his magic joined him without any provocation, causing the destruction he desired around him as his sword hand killed man after man without an ounce of mercy.
The Infernal host was eliminated before the day's end.
As his men and allies celebrated all around him, Tarin simply sheathed his sword and turned to trace his steps back to Azure. He did not see this as a victory.
The threat had returned.
But his princess still had not.
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Serena's first week of eighth grade was the best week she had ever had.
She had made a friend. Lyla was her name, and on the first day of classes, she had offered a seat at her lunch table to Serena. Serena had sat with her, of course, and surprised even herself by how much she talked. It was Lyla's doing, really; she pried in a gentle way, trying to get to know more about Serena. Once it became clear to the other girl that Serena was not very comfortable speaking about her home life and history, she started asking questions that were much easier to answer: Serena's favorite hobby, for instance. When Serena replied that she loved to read, Lyla immediately jumped at the chance to ask Serena what her favorite book was. The conversation went on like that for the entire lunch period, and into the next class - science - that they had together.
Science was more difficult for Serena than it seemed to be for anyone else; in fact, it had always been that way. Something about the subject always made doubt and confusion linger in the back of Serena's mind, though she knew that the teacher was telling her facts.
One time, the previous year, the science teacher had been talking about the sun's effects on the earth, and without even thinking about it, Serena had raised her hand and asked, 'What does the other sun do?' The teacher had looked at her like she was out of her mind for a moment before recovering, and her fellow classmates laughed about the occurrence behind her back for days. That had been one of the only, and certainly the last, times that Serena participated in science class.
However, now that Lyla sat beside her, it was far easier to get through the class. Lyla opened her notebook and drew a tic-tac-toe board, scribbling a quick X in the center spot before pushing the page over to Serena. With a smile, Serena designated an O to an upper corner, and they spent the rest of the class involved in an intense tic-tac-toe tournament, with no one being the wiser.
Lyla - and soon enough, her parents as well - became the reason Serena decided that life might not be all that hopeless after all.
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Tarin was on an expedition when she first arrived. Triana called him back personally, and though she spoke to him shortly, it was enough for him to realize how agitated she was. He came running back to the castle, having been permitted entry by the queen again, and stormed into the throne room, expecting the worst.
It was not the worst, but it was certainly not good.
The girl had pin-straight hair the color of polished steel, falling in sheets over each of her shoulders. Her eyes were piercing and though light in hue, were ringed with a thin line of dark forest green. She had a fairly tall, lean figure, and there was something quite striking about her. Perhaps it was simply the way she held herself - or perhaps it was just the way she smiled at him.
She called herself Iliss. She repeated the tale she had apparently come forward with to Triana: that her mother had been a barmaid in Pamaya when King Agros and his entourage passed through on some sort of diplomatic business. The king drank a bit too much in the tavern, said a bit too much to Grytza, the barmaid, and went a bit too far both then and when he insisted to stop again on the way back home.
Tarin already knew this part of the story, of course. Agros never contacted Grytza again, that he was aware of, but the woman did make an appearance in Azure. She attempted to humiliate the king, and succeeded in part - Triana had been mortified by the knowledge of Agros' betrayal. Tarin clearly remembered the desperation in the queen's expression when she had turned her head towards him, begging him with her eyes to remove the woman from her presence. Pleading with him as a friend.
Grytza had not gone quietly. She screamed curses and threats as Tarin dragged her out of the castle, swearing to Agros that he would never get away with what he had done, that he would regret not giving her compensation for the time they had spent together. Tarin had told her very firmly to stay away from the royal family, and that if she caused trouble for the Realm, he would end her. Nobody had known that she was with child.
They had never heard from Grytza after that, and of course, Tarin simply thought that the woman had taken his threat to heart. He might have investigated further into her silence, possibly just checked up on her state of well-being, if Triana had not come to him just weeks later with the news that she was pregnant.
After that, he threw himself into his job of guarding the queen with more ferocity than ever before. He would not allow anyone within five meters of her except her husband, despite her complaints. He would not endanger the future heir of the Realm.
And when she was born...
The world shifted.
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Serena was beaming on the stage, curtsying to the crowd that was on its feet, applauding her as one.
She had turned sixteen three months ago, and that was all the time it took for her to climb the ranks of her dance company; she had finally been allowed into the 'sixteen and older' category, and the instructors quickly realized that she had more natural talent than any of the other dancers upon seeing her glide and twirl across the room, her reflection one of an ethereal ballerina in the wall of mirrors.
Lyla and her parents came to greet her with embraces and bouquets of flowers after the recital. Mr. Murphy took Serena's dance bag from her hands and slung it over his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her, congratulating her with an affectionate smile on his face. Lyla was squeezing her arms and trying to convey to her through a slew of squeaky words just how impressive her dancing had been. Mrs. Murphy simply told her that she had shone like a star.
Serena could not stop grinning at the praise. Whenever she was dancing, she felt... right. Throughout her childhood, even most of her adolescence, she had felt out of place, as though the world had tilted on its axis and she had fallen from where she was meant to be. However, when she gave her mind over to the movements of her body, reality did not seem so inescapable.
Nevertheless, there was always a part of her that yearned for more than the life her mind had only begun to document when she was seven years old.
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On her seventeenth birthday, Tarin stood at the shores of Lake Muiress and screamed.
He could feel the eyes around him, could sense the creatures that were nearby, but he did not care. He spread his arms out to his sides and attempted to force the rage out of his body in one fierce bellow. He was tired of feeling this way: like one tiny physical or verbal nudge would be enough to make him explode.
When he had woken up that morning, he thought that perhaps all he needed was to let loose some of the fury. To let the magic in the air know the depth of his grief. So he had come to the lake, and he yelled until he had no breath. Then he fell to his knees and dug his fingers into the sand underneath him, as if it was an illusion he could tear through to find his princess.
Nobody came to bother him. His elites had probably warned anyone who had the thought away, and any of the nymphs nearby were wisely keeping their distance. He knelt by the water's edge until he saw the small ripple disturb its surface, as though it was beginning to rain.
It was not until he was back at the castle that he realized his eyelashes were heavy.
Even if she walked back into his life right now, he would never know these years. He had known a seven-year-old child; had known her more completely than anybody else in her life. He had been with her every step of the way as she grew, and he had loved and cherished every moment, but now...
Now he had missed out on ten years of her life. Ten years in which she had lived in a world that would call her a demon if they knew of her true heritage. A world in which she was trapped as surely as if they had tossed her in a cell. As far as he knew, she had been waiting for him - for a mysterious hero - to save her all this time, and he had disappointed her. He had let her down. Again.
He had been without her for longer than he had ever known her. It blew his mind whenever he thought about it, and he could almost physically feel the sinking of his heart with each passing day. He could not understand how any of the Fae he passed could be smiling, how anyone was seeing this world as anything but dark. Serena had always been his light, and now it was possible that she would not even recognize him. He might not even recognize her.
Nevertheless, he needed her. So he sat in on every meeting held with the Eternal royals, and he stalked the perimeters of Azure, and he kept himself updated on any and all Portals called to life within the borders of the Realm, refusing to give up.
Even if there ever came a day when the Fae stopped wearing their grey, when the Eternals all returned to their home realm, when the princess was declared lost forever, he would never give up on her. Doing so would be suicide, whether or not he destroyed his body.
And so Tarin Wulf persevered. And Tarin Wulf waited for the day that he would welcome his princess home.
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So said the passing of time.