Upon the geyser becoming even with the surface of the lake once more, Serena took a step. Then another. Then another.
She walked across the water, her bare feet merely skimming the glasslike surface even as her eyes remained entirely fixed on Tarin. Their gazes were locked as they had not been for what felt like ages, and he knew then that she was not only herself, but that she had accepted her ancient lineage and the duty that was handed down with it.
She was the queen of the Realm of the Fae.
The Wolves recognized the change, too. They all dropped into deep bows before Tarin could even work up the energy to blink. Even Ambrose scrambled to his feet after Nahla bent over as well, a small, knowing smile on her face as she stared at the ground. However, Tarin just continued to watch Serena's approach, intrigued by how Muiress seemed to float along behind her - more of a specter than a physical being, but still quite visible to the eye. Tarin could feel the shock in the magic auras of his Wolves around him, but he did not address it. He had a feeling everything would explain itself very soon.
The moment her feet touched the sand, his princess froze. Tarin soaked in the sight of her, of the silk nightgown moving around her knees, of her wet hair hanging limply over her shoulders, of her posture which so clearly indicated to him that she was no longer burdened with somebody else's cursed power. Most of all, he relished the fact that her recent bruises seemed to have disappeared, and when Muiress reached out to grab one of her hands affectionately, Tarin saw that the scars along his princess' forearms had faded into her skin. He had to swallow back his pleasure at seeing her pale, smooth skin unmarred from everything that had happened since he had first lost her. He could almost pretend like none of it had happened, if it were not for the haunted look in her eyes now as she glanced at him. It was only for a moment, but he knew her well enough to know that she must be torturing herself now that she had control over her mind once again.
"It wasn't you, Princess," he murmured abruptly, quietly enough that his Wolves would know the words were not meant for their hearing. "None of it was you. I know that. Do not blame yourself."
Her eyes flicked back to him once more, and a shadow passed over her face, but she did not say anything. He could sense the pain in her aura and could feel the anguish even just through their connection - it festered in his soul, and he wished he knew how much of it was directed at him and how much was directed solely at herself.
Then she pulled her gaze away from him and fixed it instead on the group as a whole. Though she had a bedraggled appearance and she had drained her magic from her system, there was something about her demeanor that radiated power. Tarin knew that it had to do with Muiress' presence, both behind Serena now and inside of her veins.
"I know that Tarin has not told you all what's been happening to me," Serena began, taking the time to look at each person individually. When she got to Ambrose, however, her eyes widened slightly, but she did not shrink from his gaze.
"I haven't been myself the past week. Quite literally," she stated bluntly. "I only tell you all this because the very people who took advantage of me will be after me now, and they would be only too happy to get rid of you all in the process. Now that my home is falling"-- her voice cracked here, but she quickly regained control-- "the people of Azure will look to warriors like you six more than ever. And I need you to lead them against this threat, because if we fail to meet and overcome it, it will wash over us and submerge us in a wave of death and destruction. I have heard the Infernals' plans, and I have been shown the future the Realm would have to look forward to under Infernal leadership. It must be stopped."
Her words were met with astonished silence, and Tarin felt all eyes fix on him, as if he was the only one capable of making a response. Or maybe they were looking to him for an alternate solution to the problem Serena was posing. He did not know.
Ignoring the Wolves behind him, Tarin pulled his cross swords from their sheaths. Muiress narrowed her eyes as she observed, but Serena did not so much as blink, as if she was already anticipating his next move. Hoping that he was indeed doing what she wanted, he dropped his swords at her feet and subsequently fell onto one knee, his head lowered.
"My swords are yours, my Queen, for as long as they are needed," he stated calmly, and indeed there was a surge of peace throughout his being at saying the words. This was his destiny, the means towards fulfilling a sacred duty. He had never spoken words that held such a profound truth to them - besides, maybe, when admitting the commitment of a different sort he had for his princess-- his queen.
He heard the sliding of metal from behind him, but did not raise his head as his Wolves emulated him. He was sure that all of them had repeated some form of his oath: sure of them all, that was, besides Ambrose. He did not know what to expect from Ambrose; after everything he had been through, Tarin could not exactly blame him if he did not want to swear allegiance so quickly to the woman who had torn him apart. The man did not yet fully understand what had occurred over the past few days, so Tarin left him to his own devices and cautiously rose his eyes to his queen.
She was still silent, and was not looking back at him as he had expected. It was not doubt that was prevalent in her expression, but an unspeakable rage: it was sparking in the air between them still, and he knew then that he had at least a small part in it. She had not fully forgiven him for Holly's note, it seemed; either that, or she was just so angry at herself that she could not meet his eyes any longer.
Muiress stepped forward then, her gown rippling through the still air and her brilliant blue eyes aglow. "I know that you are all loyal, that you are all eager to do your part in this war, no matter what might happen to you in the process. It would be a shame to lose any of you, and so I offer each one of you a gift from my own little kingdom in the hopes that it will help you in the catastrophic times to come. Please, stand before me."
Tarin got to his feet, but did not move other than that. His Wolves lined up on either side of him, and he wondered if they were still confused, struggling to figure out who this woman was. He stole a glance at the twins, and saw smiles on their faces. They knew. He was not sure how they knew, but it was clear that they had figured it out. Birches seemed to be in utter awe, and Tarin nodded to himself. Birches had been born during Muiress' time, had even served in the Fae army near the end of her reign; he would have recognized her immediately.
"Willard," Muiress said softly, reaching out her free hand. Tarin's eyes slid over to Serena, who appeared to be watching what was occurring, but seemed distant at the same time. He knew her mind was elsewhere, though he was not sure if anybody else could tell. He wished he could rush forward and embrace her, convince her that he did not think any differently of her now, tell her that he had done some horrible things in his life too, and he had never been cursed when doing them. He did not know what would make her feel better, but he was desperate to try.
Ambrose lifted the stump of his arm, and Muiress did not shy away from clasping it in her hand, her expression sad, but determined. "You have such courage, Willard. You saved Tarin's life where nobody else could. You accompanied Serena when she did not trust anybody else to do so. And you found the strength to endure when all of the Realm decided that you were a traitor," she spoke, smiling at him as her hand came up to cradle his cheek. He stared at her, entranced, as she continued, "You do not deserve what has been done to you by the dark forces, and my subjects will do all that they can to reverse it."
Ambrose's mouth opened, but of course, nothing came out. Muiress gave him another smile, and then Nahla was there, gesturing for Ambrose to follow her, her eyes dancing with happiness, and naturally, he went without any hesitation. Tarin wondered if water nymphs were always happy in their little marine world, or if they strayed out into the surface world often enough to feel tainted by the horrors happening in it. Perhaps only Muiress and her closest attendants were even aware of the war. It was only now that Tarin was realizing how little he knew about that branch of the Fae, and he wished he had strove for a higher understanding before now.
"Dallin," Muiress called next, and Dallin stumbled forward, his eyes darting around as if he could not decide which person standing in front of him was the more important one he should be looking at. Muiress waved her hand through the air, and when she presented her palm to Dallin, there was something laying atop it. It looked like a dagger, but it had a glistening white blade - so white in fact that it was nearly transparent. The handle looked to be pure gold. Slowly, as if not sure that he was allowed to, Dallin reached out and picked the blade up, his eyes wide as he surveyed it more closely.
"This is made from the tooth of a sea creature that is now extinct, or else has taken up residence in some unknown pit of this dimension. It was truly something of legend. A water nymph by the name of Kenura is the only being to have ever faced a Leviathar and survive; she brought back its teeth in her victory, and this is one of the few that my kingdom has managed to preserve," Muiress explained. She watched with a smile as Dallin examined the weapon, but cried out the instant he touched the blade to his skin.
"Careful! This is a blade of ancient power, Dallin, and so is infused with a quality unlike the weapons you ordinarily fight with. To pierce a creature's skin with this would cause instantaneous death. It is a beautiful instrument, but quite fatal."
Tarin had never heard of the legend of Kenura, and had thought the Leviathar an utter myth. To learn otherwise was unpleasant to him. He felt oblivious to such a large portion of the Realm, and he began to doubt himself. What else was unknown to him? What if this meant he was unprepared or unaware of something that could potentially harm his queen? His mind went wild, accusing himself for all sorts of crimes that had not yet happened.
With Muiress' last sentence, Tarin found himself staring at his queen once more. Beautiful. But fatal, Muiress' voice whispered in his mind. He shoved it away.
"Vice," Muiress said then, as Dallin took a step back. Vice stepped forward, and Muiress laughed softly. "And Vex," she added, probably seeing the way Vex had leaned forward when her twin had walked away from her, as if there was a string between them that only allowed for so much distance apart. Her eyes sparkling with excitement, Vex stepped forward as well. Tarin knew that out of all of the Wolves, the twins were probably most ecstatic at the opportunity to meet and speak with Muiress. She had always fascinated them; a powerful queen in her own right just in her way of ruling, but her magic, as a water nymph, was of an entirely different form and calibre from any other Fae queen there had ever been. If they had the chance to speak to her, to learn any sort of magical spells from her, Tarin knew they would take advantage of it in an instant.
Muiress dropped Serena's hand and held her palms out in front of her, and out of nowhere, two royal blue books with golden stitching dropped into them. The twins stared at the tomes greedily, though Tarin could not make out the writing on the covers. He knew four ancient languages, and yet had no idea how to decipher the symbols in front of him.
"For you two, I have--" Muiress began, but swiftly cut off. Tarin noticed the waters behind her rise slightly as if in preparation for something, and he straightened his spine, more alert than ever. Even Serena seemed to have recognized the shift in the atmosphere, her eyes widening with fear. Tarin's heart sunk as he watched her; she had always been so brave, but after what she had been through, nobody could blame her for being nervous in the face of an unknown threat.
"Infernals," Vex declared, in an eerie replica of the night of the ball. Muiress' brow furrowed, and Serena took an inadvertent step back, wrapping her arms around herself. Tarin stepped forward, and he would have gone to his princess' - his queen's, rather - side, if Muiress had not blinked then and rose her now-empty hands to halt them and all their plans in their tracks.
"It is more than just Infernals," she said urgently. "It is Iliss leading them, and they know you are here with Serena, Tarin - the tree nymphs saw you go." She reached forward and grasped Tarin's upper arms, and he stiffened, feeling the tinge of desperation in her magic as she nearly shook him.
"They are coming for her. Do you hear me, Tarin? We must get her out of here, now."
Tarin pulled out of her grip and strode up to Serena, his mind buzzing with panic, his thoughts trying to formulate into some cohesive strategy. She blinked at him as he grabbed her hands in his, but she did not resist his touch. She was terrified; he could see it, feel it.
"She will kill me," the young queen whispered, squeezing one of Tarin's hands as if to emphasize the statement. "The one she needs is you, Tarin; that much has been obvious all along. If she knows I didn't get you into the oath and that I'm back to normal, I won't be of any use to her anymore. She's told me so."
Tarin closed his eyes for a moment, trying to reign in the fire he felt in his gaze before he opened them again. He lifted their joined hands to his face and grazed her knuckles with his lips gently.
"I will not let her touch you, my Queen," he murmured back, and he could have sworn that they got closer in that moment, though he did not think he had moved. Nobody else was speaking - or if they were, he could not hear them. Serena's eyes were wide, and he was falling into them; her magic was cradling him to her, and he did not know if he could fight it--
"I prefer Princess," she stated, abruptly pulling him back to reality. Her lips were curled into a small smile, and he realized his forehead was pressed up against hers. "It's what you've called me for as long as I can remember. I don't want that to change, at least."
Tarin nearly responded that nothing was going to change, but he realized before the words left his mouth that they would have been a lie. Everything was changing, and not all of it for the better. He just squeezed her hands again instead and glanced at Muiress, who was watching them with a secretive smile. He tried not to flush.
"What do I do?" Tarin begged. He was willing to do anything; if he had to go into hiding with his princess, he would do so. He would go on the run with her for hundreds of years, if that was what it took to keep her safe. He would face down armies for her; he had before. He had always had a plan of attack, but he had also always had the advantage. This situation was unprecedented: he was now the one being hunted, and his predatory instincts were of little use. It was unfamiliar. It was unnatural, even.
But he could not let her get caught.
"I have a plan, little warrior," Muiress said in a reluctant tone, glancing back at the lake as if it had whispered something to her, "and you are probably not going to like it. However, we do not have time to dispute it; Serena must be taken into safety, and my subjects are doing all they can to slow Iliss down, but it will not last long. Precious minutes."
Tarin inhaled deeply through his nose and drew his head back from Serena's. "Tell me," he requested. So she did.
And when Serena's face fell, so did his heart.