The Silver Witch and the Amethyst Cat
Well, I did it. It's done. There's still plenty of tweaking and editing to be done, but I finished it. Slight name change, just for fun. I thought that 'The Silver Witch and the Amethyst Cat' had a better flow to it, but I could be wrong. Maybe I'll change it back, maybe I'll change it entirely. Who knows! Anyway, point is, I'm done. The three month journey, quite literally, ends today. There's a brief epilogue, but I'll save that for next post. Might need to workshop it a bit, so that gives me time. The last two chapters are a bit longer than all the others, but I think I was able to wrap things up nicely. Hopefully you agree.
I'm both relieved and anxious, amusingly. Now that I've finished the rough draft, the rest of the menial work begins. Well, menial sounds degrading. More like...tedious. Going back through, making edits, closing plot holes and correcting placeholders, all that. Then, once the editing is done, I start trying to get this into the hands of an agent. That's the part that makes me anxious. I didn't even try with The Red Mother, but getting my book published by a real publisher is the goal with this one. As much as I loved (read: hated) doing all the work of setting everything up myself and doing my own marketing for my first book, I'd much prefer a professional who actually knows what they're doing help me out. Not to mention, I really want people to see this one and read it, to feel something and get something from it. I put a lot more of myself into this one, a lot more honesty and introspection on both my own story and one that I think will resonate with people. I won't lie and say that I don't want it to sell. I do. It's kind of why I'm doing this, at least partially. But at the same time, I want my words and stories to mean something to people, to impact them in some way, to let them know that there's more out there and that no matter how dark things might get, there's always a way back. Call me cheesy. Do it. Come on. Call me cheesy and delicious.
Ahem. Anyway.
So yeah, back to monthly blog posts around the 25th from here on out. Yes, that means you'll have to wait until next month for the epilogue, but that gives me time to finish the edits, tie up the loose ends and make it the best it can be. Assuming my edits are done by then, anyway. I'll probably take a little break from writing in Februrary, since I spent the last three cranking this one out. I'll at least slow down, I'm sure. I have a couple other things I'd like to work on too, which probably won't get posted here...sorry, you won't be finding my FFXIV fanfic about my character's trauma leading into the Endwalker finale here. That's for me and whatever site I anonymously post it on. If I even do it. In the meantime, I'll keep working on book two of Crimson Legacy, and I'll also adapt and edit my short stories I had written for my YouTube channel (did you check that out? It's okay, I wouldn't want to listen to me for that long either.) So, until next month, thanks for bearing with me while I worked on this. It was a ton of fun, and even though it was a real test of my own discipline, I think it's going to work out well as a positive experience. And hey, if you read this far, thanks. I might never know, but the idea that these words might actually reach someone and not just disappear in the void of the internet is nice. Until then,
Make your own fate
J. M. Prigmore
Ch. 19
Two months had passed, and the village of Harske was suffering already. With nearly half of its population gone, conscripted to fight for their liege lord, most of the tasks once handled by those missing were being done by those who were too old, too young, or too ill to do them well enough to sustain the small village. As they had come to find, the same decree had been presented to most small villages spread throughout Lord Inod's domain, leaving a huge void in the workforce for almost every corner of his lands. Yelena had no clue as to why he would make such an incredibly foolish decision, but there was naught she could do about it anyway. Her time and effort was better spent supporting Harske as best she could, offering up her magic and her skills to provide what was most required. She spent most of her days in the village, cooking, hauling lumber, and hunting game. Her magic was incredibly handy for most of these tasks, and with Hemlock's support, she could practically be in two places at once. Still, it was exhausting. She fell into her bed and immediately fell asleep every night, woke up before the sun rose, and did it all again. It wasn't as if others had it any easier, so she had no right to complain about the hard work.
Even so, every night for the last week, she awoke at random hours in the middle of the night from bolting awake in a cold sweat. She could never remember what terror it was that had her in mind in such a state of panic, but she felt as though it was the same dream every time. Something awful, something she could do nothing about, tormenting her until her unconscious mind just couldn't handle any more, throwing her awake in disarray. It was quickly becoming untenable. She was never going to get any real rest like this. She'd bring it up to Hemlock, and maybe see if he could share some insight on what might be causing the night terrors.
"I normally try to avoid watching your mind while you sleep, you know. It's a mess of nonsense."
"This is different. Please?"
Hemlock sighed, but nodded.
"Thanks. Sorry for the bother," she said, giving his head a quick rub before pulling the covers over herself. Hopefully tonight she'd be able to get to the bottom of it all.
Surely enough, after what felt like no time at all, she leapt awake with a scream, her body sticky with sweat, yet her mind was lost as to why. After a few moments of remembering where she was and what had happened, she looked to find Hemlock in the darkness of her room. At the foot of her bed, sitting perfectly still like a little doll, the cat watched her, his one yellow eye glimmering in the darkness.
"Yelena. You are awake."
Slightly out of breath, she replied, "What did you see?"
The cat blinked once, then spoke.
"I will tell you in the morning. You need to sleep."
"No, tell me now. I'm already awake. I can't really sleep after these anyway."
Hemlock hesitated for a moment, but figured it wasn't worth fighting.
"Very well."
The candle next to her bed flickered to life, thanks to Hemlock, and he spoke.
"You are experiencing the results of a type of bond not dissimilar to that which you and I share. As you and I can feel each other's feelings and pains, so too are you experiencing another's."
"What? Who?"
"Such a thing should be impossible, unless one's very soul is linked to another's. It is a very difficult and invasive process, and not one that I remember you doing. Answer me this, Yelena; did you peer into Sonya's soul at some point?"
A flash of memory lit her mind, and she remembered when she had linked their souls together to see the magical parasite that had taken root there.
"Yes. That's how I figured out that the disease from last year wasn't normal."
Hemlock sighed.
"Yelena. There is a reason performing such a dangerous spell is taboo beyond its invasive nature. When two souls are linked, they are forever bound. Just as you and I are inseparable on a metaphysical level, so too are you bound to Sonya. Not in the same way as I am as your familiar, mind you, but a link exists all the same."
Yelena struggled to wrap her head around what he was saying. She hadn't felt anything like that back when she had done the spell, but she also didn't really know what she was doing back then. It was quite possible that, in her ignorance, she could have done so.
"So what does that mean for her?"
"In all likelihood, very little. She is rather unresponsive to magical influences, which is a blessing in this scenario. Otherwise, she would be experiencing all the same things you are."
Yelena winced at the thought, imagining causing such grief because of a foolish mistake made in haste. At least it was only affecting her.
"Well that's good at least, right?"
"Not entirely."
"Explain, please."
"While the two of you are still very much separate entities, there is a price that comes with such a link. For example, should I roam too far from you, my strength would wane. For one such as myself, the effects would be negligible. But for her, someone not attuned to magic, the bond would be taxing on her soul. She might well be experiencing an uncanny fatigue and pain that no tonic of yours would remedy."
Yelena groaned, putting her head in her hands.
"So I am causing her trouble, wonderful."
"Yes, but not to such an extent as to be truly dangerous. I believe."
She looked at Hemlock from between her fingers.
"You believe?"
"It is…possible…that the nature of the bond is stronger than I can easily read. Since you did this while we were separated, I cannot fully determine the nature of the link without both parties being present. It is odd that I could not detect it before, but many factors could have led to this blind spot."
"Yes, one of them being the very fact that you cut me off to go gamble your lives away," she replied, her snark slipping through.
"I will choose to ignore your remark, given your levels of exhaustion."
Yelena giggled, but quickly settled back into silence. She didn't like how little they knew.
"So then, how threatening might this be?"
"At worst, it could cause her great physical distress. I do not believe that to be likely, but it is still within the realm of possibility. Again, I am limited to what I am able to glean from your side exclusively."
"That's just…great."
Yelena pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She hated the idea that she could be actively hurting her, so far away, and for no good reason. It would be easy to believe that their link was weak, that nothing was actually wrong. Easy, perhaps, but selfish. She wasn't okay with that.
"Then tomorrow we're going to go find them, and we're going to fix this."
Hemlock stood on all fours now.
"Yelena, no. We talked about this."
"Yes, we did, but now things are different. The dynamics have changed, and I refuse to sit here and cause harm to her when I could possibly stop it."
"Did you not promise me that you would not interfere?"
"No, Hemlock. I promised you that I would do what was right."
Hemlock's head pulled back a bit, and he took a moment to respond to that.
"Very well. I will not fight you on this. I will only say that whatever happens, you must keep a low profile. No one must know that you are a witch. No one."
***
Yelena made her plans known to the village, providing them with an ample amount of her magical tonics to help get them through a short bout of her absence. She also left a small magically infused stone with the village elder Finley, instructing him how to call for her should something truly dire transpire. Using magic learned from Helvetia, she manifested a return spell just outside her house, allowing her a one-way instant transportation back home should she need it. Finley seemed confident that they wouldn't need to call her and that they could handle themselves, but she knew how tenuous things were. She wanted to have a safety net for them if they truly needed it.
She didn't need to pack much herself, however. She could move significantly faster through the air than any army could possibly march, so she'd start her search at the training grounds the soldiers had demanded all the conscripts assemble. If she was lucky, they'd still be there, and this wouldn't take more than a few days. She spent the morning doing her prep, and after acquiring a sack full of salted meats from the butcher's son, she set off for Eastlark. Hemlock was draped over her shoulders as she summoned Éan beag under herself, perching on it and beginning to rise skyward. It held her weight with ease, as she had hoped. It took shockingly little of her magic to hold herself aloft these days, but she hadn't actually tried riding her staff like this before now. It was as good an opportunity as any, she figured. With her long flowing dress and her wide brimmed hat, gifted to her by one of the children of Harske to shade her from the warm summers here, she set off into the sky at a brisk pace.
While this was hardly the first time she had flown across the skies above the Deep Forest, this was certainly the first time she was doing so in an attempt to actually leave them. Since first arriving, she hadn't ventured out of the enormous wood. Not that she was scared to, she just hadn't had a reason. Perhaps, since she was already out and about, she could stop by her parent's home and see how everyone was doing. It wasn't necessarily on the way, but with how quickly she could travel, a detour like that on the way home wouldn't be too much of a hassle. Still, she had more pressing concerns. She had to find Sonya and sever their link, as well as make sure her identity as a witch wasn't made known. She'd grown so used to conjuring spells whenever she fancied that she'd have to make a concerted effort to do things manually.
Her journey across the land was boring, but entrancing. For what felt like hours, she could only see trees, a veritable sea of green spikes piercing the blue sky, shifting lazily in the breeze that flowed through them. It was a sight she'd seen dozens of times, perfecting her ability to move easily through the forest. This time was different however, for as the sun began to descend from its position directly above her, a new feature came into hazy view on the horizon; a mountain peak. At first she wasn't sure what it was that was beginning to poke its head above the trees, but as she continued forward, more and more of the enormous geological structure revealed itself. It was still impossibly far away, barely visible just from sheer distance, but from her elevation well above the tops of these ancient pines, she saw the brand new sight with awe and glee.
"Hemlock! Look!"
The cat had been dozing on and off, and with a grumble in his throat she heard him awaken.
"What?"
"A mountain!"
"What of it?"
"It's the first time I've seen one! It's so big!"
"So it is. I believe your people call it Dagda's Throne, or something akin."
"Why?"
"Old stories about it being the seat of a god. I never gave the tales any credence. The gods don't reside on the earth anymore."
"Anymore?"
"I'll explain later. For now, I will return to my very peaceful nap. Try not to move too much," he said, ending the conversation abruptly.
Yelena sighed, but appreciated the tidbit all the same. She wasn't headed in the same direction of the mountain, but close enough so that it might be well within her view for a time.
For the rest of the day she was able to see the outskirts of the Deep Forest begin to fade away, allowing instead smaller trees and thicker patches of grass and flower fields to gain a foothold. It was more similar to what she was used to before coming to Harske now. She was sure that soon she'd begin seeing rows of plowed fields, crops sown and well on their way to bearing fruit or grain. She was likely only a small distance from Eastlark now. She'd have to be a little more careful with her flight, but so long as she was high and fast enough, any farmer who happened to be daydreaming at the sky would likely mistake her for a strangely shaped bird. Slowly the landscape began to change more and more, becoming increasingly civilized. She began to cross roads, plains filled with roaming livestock, and swathes of brown soil on the cusp of birthing plant-life. All were sights she'd become used to as a child, but never from this perspective. From here, far above the height of men, the criss-cross patterns, the grids of plots of land, the tiny dots of the animals that roamed it, it all seemed so…odd. Out in the Deep Forest, no one was above nature. The forest was king, and not one soul dared impose their will upon it. Out here, in these open grasslands, their dirt tilled and rotated for generations, it was as if man had asserted his dominance over the whole of it. It was incredible, but at the same time, it left Yelena with a strange sense of loss in her heart. What groves of beautiful flowers might have grown where now sat a barn full of animals whose only purpose was to create something for their owner? How many flourishing populations of animals had been culled or relocated, no longer allowed to transgress on the lands of wealthy lords? The flow of magic here was shaky. She could see it in the waves of energy that flowed between the flora and fauna, how it struggled to gain purchase on lives so spread apart and abstracted from their natural state. Had she come through here but a year ago, she likely wouldn't have been able to maintain her flight from so little ambient energy. She could hardly begrudge the peoples of these lands for doing so; it was the nature of humanity to grow and flourish, to tame and conquer, the same as any other creature. Yet still, the vast expanse of terrain firmly under the thumb of a few select souls…it left her with emotions she couldn't quite express and a small uncomfortable feeling in her gut.
Distracting her from all of her thoughts at last though was the sight of Eastlark finally coming into view. The city was huge, much larger than even her memories had led her to believe. From a few miles out she could still see the sprawling city, its innumerable houses and shops cut into neat shapes by weaving tendrils of stone streets and wide thoroughfares. At the center was a massive castle, elevated atop a great hill, standing proudly above every other structure in view. Yelena couldn't imagine living in such a structure, constantly surrounded by stone and shut out from nature. The very idea made her feel claustrophobic.
She pulled her mind away from the castle, instead remembering that her destination was the training grounds southeast of the city. It should've been easy to spot. If Yelena had any idea what it might've looked like, anyway. She looked about the vast swathe of land surrounding the walled city, searching for any large plots of land big enough to house an army.
"You think that's it?" she asked Hemlock, pointing towards a huge muddy field with little else of note within a large fence.
"Possibly. I see no better starting place. Find a safe spot to land, we must go on foot."
Yelena nodded, then slowly began to descend. From here on out, she would be reliant upon her own two feet. It was a good thing she brought her good boots.
She spent the rest of the day roaming about the outskirts of the city, searching for any signs of military equipment. The population out here was sparse, much to her surprise. There were countless fields all around, but almost no one was working them currently. Perhaps they too were conscripted. After some time, she finally made it to the large muddy field. While there was not a soul around, it was clear now that she was at least in the right spot. The mud was full of ruts and low trenches, signs of struggle and constant movement. Snapped ends of practice spears lay in the mud, some stuck straight up, their ends splintered through great force. Horse prints were everywhere, their weight leaving deep indentations in the soft mud. Likely the officers observing the trainees. She was worried this would be the case. The mud was still wet, but the prints weren't exactly fresh. The army was already long gone, marching off to wherever their lord had instructed. She'd have to ask around, though finding anyone to ask would apparently prove difficult. She'd wanted to avoid entering the city proper, but it was looking more and more likely that she'd have to brave the great gates of Eastlark to find any answers.
Yelena leaned on the fence post, sighing aloud to herself. The smell of the wet earth was somewhat nostalgic, reminding her of her parents. Often her father would come home, caked in mud or worse, having spent all day out in the fields on his hands and knees. Beasts of burden were rare for their poor family, so most sowing and tilling was done with tools or by hand. She took a long breath, and as she pushed off the hastily erected fence post, she heard a set of footsteps behind her. The person spoke before she could turn to face it.
"No need to worry, dear. I'm sure they'll be back soon. I heard this is all just posturing."
It was an older woman, her voice soft and motherly. With her hat's wide brim obscuring her eyes, she turned and faced the stranger.
"Do you happen to know to where they marched?"
The stranger seemed to perfectly ordinary. She was certainly up in years, with graying hair and plenty of wrinkles lining her face. She wore drab, beige clothes, a simple dress and a dirty apron. She cradled a basket in her arms, its contents barely peeking over the side, revealing a variety of vegetables and grains. Her hands were worn and covered in scabs and scars. A laborer, most likely.
"To Titania's Folly, I heard. They left about a week ago now. If you were looking to join, might be a bit late."
She had no clue where that was, but the name sounded vaguely familiar. Maybe something she'd heard when she was young?
"Which way is Titania's Folly?"
"Not a local, eh? Three day’s travel by foot, I reckon. Might be best if you went back home, dear. Better to be missing than late, I heard."
"I thank you for the advice, ma'am, but I need to find someone important."
Yelena tilted her hat up and gave the old woman a genuine smile.
"Well if you're set on it, then I pray you keep safe. The roads aren't patrolled like they used to be, what with all the guard gone."
She nodded her head, then said, "Thank you for the warning and the directions, ma'am. I pray you have a lovely day."
The woman smiled back, saying, "You as well, dear."
The stranger began to walk away, following the muddy road to Yelena's right. She watched the woman as she went, wondering if her words were true about the gathering of forces being simple posturing. Perhaps she spoke with knowledge, perhaps it was simply a coping mechanism. Yelena hoped she was right, regardless. She had a destination and a heading now at least, and she hadn't needed to venture into the city. That alone would save her time and effort.
"Well, shall we?" she said to Hemlock, who had been hidden in her shadow ever since they had touched down.
"If you are still determined, let us make camp somewhere out of sight of the roads soon. I know of the place anyway, it is a simple flight."
She nodded, then began down the opposite path of the old woman. If nothing went awry, she could reach the army tomorrow before midday.
***
After another night of poor sleep, thanks to both the makeshift bedding and the night terror again, Yelena and Hemlock set off in the morning for Titania's Folly. Hemlock had described it as an old battleground, well known for the many wars fought along its sloping plains and lush grasslands. It was one of the only large, clear areas in the area that wasn't strictly farmland or forest. It still seemed silly to Yelena, but then again, this whole war business was silly. She didn't see much of a point to it, and even when the soldiers had come knocking, they hadn't even given them a reason as to why there was to be a war in the first place. Not that it mattered, of course. The reason for war was rarely justifiable, so better off not even trying to do so among the loyal populace.
The pair once again set off through the air atop her staff, soaring as fast as an eagle on the wind. She had no time to waste now. If the army was already there, there was a chance that the old woman was wrong and that things had devolved into hostilities. If that was the case, then Sonya couldn't afford a distraction like this soul bond. She'd figure out how she was going to sneak into an army camp and conduct a complicated magical ritual once she got there. No sense worrying about that now, with so little information available to her anyway. They'd figure something out. They always did.
The morning was chilly, but still much warmer than her home in Harske. They were truly in a different part of the world now, and the landscape of rolling hills and small ponds was at least enjoyable to watch pass by as they went. From so high up, avoiding all of the turmoil she was bound to face in just a little while, the bucolic countryside was rather lovely. She let the stellar view of the landscape distract her from all of her anxieties and troubles, if only for a little while.
"I fear we may be in for a bit of trouble," Hemlock said after a while, breaking her out from her tranquil.
"What do you mean?"
"I feel a terrible disturbance up ahead. You should be able to feel it too. Focus."
A pit formed in her stomach, but she closed her eyes and extended her senses all the same. She was much better now at seeing magical energy currents, and through her study and practice, she was able to discern when they were fluctuating with violent emotion. It wasn't too dissimilar to the aura of a shadow beast, like an earthquake that made all nearby magic energy tremble in its tumultuous reverberations. She could feel it too now, just as he'd said. It was close, just up ahead. It wasn't a spell being cast, not an intentional manipulation of magic. No, this was an ambient, chaotic disturbance. This was…
Her eyes snapped open, and before her was a scene unlike any she'd ever borne witness to. A field covered not with flowers bright with color, not with tilled earth and its potential for growth, but instead bodies, countless in their number, raging like the ocean's waves. They crashed into each other, these lines of armed soldiers, crying out for their lord, for their loved ones, for their siblings in arms. Arrows rained above them, slamming into their soft flesh with power and ferocity like lightning. Massive groups of mounted warriors in armor charged atop their horses and crushed the helpless infantrymen underneath, trampling many to death with the sheer weight of the combined mount and rider, skewering others with long spears dripping sticky red blood. The screams of the dying echoed out across the hills, their blood pooling in the shallow valleys between the raised earth in ponds of charnel horror. Through Yelena's eyes, the magical currents that flowed through these armies were jagged and wild, so unlike the smooth and calm rivers that meandered through Harske. It was…war.
Yelena came to a sudden stop, unable to process all that she saw. It was terrible, unlike anything else. Death and destruction on such a monumental scale that her mind couldn't possibly hope to rationalize it. From her perspective high above it all, watching on like an indolent god, it seemed like something impossible. She hovered still, unable to pull her eyes away from the carnage splayed out before her, the vicious reality of conflict.
"We need to move, Yelena. You are too obvious here," Hemlock urged, no doubt experiencing what she was.
"Yeah," she barely managed to say, remembering that she too was at risk, even so far away.
Without a sound, the pair descended to the ground, the hill before them blissfully blocking her view of the battlefield. Her legs touched the soil, the tall grass brushing up against her legs reminding her that this was real. What she had just seen was real, and it was happening just a little ways away. She could barely make out the dull roar of countless voices calling, screaming, crying out for whatever gave them comfort or purpose. She tried to block it out, to just breath in and out, but it was difficult. She couldn't help imagining the lovely people she'd come to know, laying out there on that field soaked in blood, their eyes hollow and staring up at the blue sky forever.
"Yelena. Stay with me. We need to form a plan."
"Hemlock, why are they doing this?"
The cat leapt down from her shoulders and turned to face her.
"It is human nature to differ. This is merely the final escalation of conflicting views."
She looked at him, trying to take in his cold, rational response. Was this really their nature?
"No, I can't believe that!"
She felt a pain in her chest, sharp and cold.
"It is the way of all life, I'm afraid. To live is to breed conflict. It is the fate of the intelligent to craft more efficient ways to conduct the natural ways of survival. You must steel yourself for what you will see as we near."
She couldn't wrap her head around the idea, and at the same time, the pain in her chest grew in its severity. She clutched at her dress, unsure what was causing it to hurt so much. Then, like awakening from a terrible dream, she had a flash of memory. An arrow, one of many, raining like hail from the sky. An endless downpour, striking all around, landing into the bodies of those around her as she looked around with panic, unsure what to do. Then one landed in her, striking her directly in the chest, knocking her to the ground with its force. She cried out, her hands outstretched, her vision blurring with the incredible pain that shot through her.
The next moment, she was back in her own mind, aware that she was lying on her back in the grass, tears streaking her face and her hands clutching the now missing arrow.
"Yelena!" she heard Hemlock shouting to get her attention.
There was only one thing that could've been. If she could experience the pain that Hemlock felt due to their link, she must've been sharing in what had happened to Sonya. She was out there, hurt, alone, surrounded by strangers.
No. She wouldn't allow it. She wasn't going to let this continue.
"I know what you must be feeling, but you mustn't. There is more at stake than-"
"Never again, Hemlock."
She slowly rose, calling her staff to her side once more. It manifested as a brilliant white glowing blade of light, magical energy surging from her vast well of power, arc of energy splitting off and scorching the blades of grass unlucky enough to get too close. Heat radiated from it, from her.
"I'm putting a stop to this. Now."
The tears of pain evaporated into steam as arcs of lightning shot out from her skin. She could feel it again, the power gifted to her from Tuireann. She wouldn't waste it. If she couldn't protect those she loved, then what was the point in having all this power?
"Please," Hemlock begged one last time, his voice slow and calm. "You mustn't let your emotions control you."
Her heart beat once, then twice, then once more.
In a flash of white light, Yelena burst into the air with the power unmatched by any mortal man. Magical energy burst outward from her very skin, escaping and flaring outwards like wings. For a brief moment, she looked again over the battlefield. Again, she saw the pain, the suffering, the death. This time, she wasn't watching helplessly. No, she would put an end to it. Right now.
With all of her rage and passion burning like an inferno in her chest, she shot forward with the power of the very gods as a streak of white light across the sky.
Ch. 20
Yelena couldn't quite understand what she felt. It was a mix of a thousand things, all swirling together and mixing into a violent brew. It fueled her like a furnace, burning hot and raging with power, dangerous and unpredictable. Her mind was consumed with just the one thought; protect Sonya.
The next few minutes were a blur. She could only vaguely take in what was happening, her body moving on pure instinct. Flashes of men's faces, pure terror painted on their faces as she drew near, too fast and too bright for them to ever hope to react. Her sword moved as a weightless thought, pure magic severing the mortal bonds between men and their souls. Their armor and weapons burned away as she neared them, setting them ablaze with the raw heat of the energy that risked consuming her own body. Screams echoed in her head, but she found no pity for them. They were threatening Sonya. They had to die.
In her head, she could hear Hemlock, desperately pleading with her to stop. She couldn't listen. Something else had taken control, something primal, something core to her. She swept across the lines of soldiers, her magical blade rending them without any hope of defense. They cried out for mercy, for salvation, for hope, but she gave them only death, carried along on wings formed from the purest of magics. Despite her overflowing emotions, she somehow felt strangely calm, almost detached. She knew what she was doing, but it felt as though she was simply watching it transpire rather than doing the action herself. She had descended upon the enemy army as an angel of death, culling the herd like an executioner. She was sure that she was just as terrible to witness for those allied with Sonya, but she didn't care.
Suddenly, as she razed another line of men staring up at her with faces of despair, another sharp pain pierced her chest. Another flash of false memory, a shared link. Sonya clutched at the arrow in her chest, blood soaking her linen armor as she struggled to pull it free. Yelena could feel every bit of the tearing of her flesh, the burning hot pain that radiated from the wound. It nearly caused her to fall from the sky, but she recovered her senses after a moment and rose high into the sky. She hovered for a moment, looking for Sonya in the masses of bodies. That's when she finally took in the full field below her, and what she'd done.
The grasses were scorched black, as were the corpses. Hundreds of men lay lifeless among the charred foliage, their bodies dark and still. Those unlucky enough to have their souls cleaved by her blade were left to burn alive in her wake, dying painfully and slowly without hope for salvation. Huge swathes of charred land were still alight, set ablaze just from her presence alone. She looked over her grisly work, still feeling as though she was witnessing the deeds of someone else. A vengeful spirit come to wash over these awful people, come to deliver them a just demise. It was righteous. It was necessary.
A man in her view rolled out from under one of his comrade's bodies, his body burned and bleeding. He screamed, weeping in pain as from his wounds. He looked skyward, likely for some god or deity for some kind of divine assistance. Instead, he found only her. Their eyes met, his a perfectly natural brown, though bloodshot and pained, hers, bright blue orbs of lightning that arced with energy from within. From her distance, she couldn't hear the final words he spoke. But she could read his lips just fine.
"Cursed witch."
She blinked once. She was a witch. She was able to use magic, to bend it to her whims and make the lives of men seem feeble before her might. She was more a force of nature than a girl right now.
So what on earth was she doing?
She looked over her work, taking it in one more time. It was as if a meteor had fallen and crashed into these helpless soldiers, crushed and burned beneath it's sheer power. That a single person could have done such devastation was nigh inconceivable, yet there she was, sword in hand held aloft by burning wings of energy. Was this what she had envisioned for herself? Was this what the little girl had wished for all those years ago, to take on the form of a violent monster and slay mindlessly those who were in just as unfortunate a position as she? Was this truly what it meant to protect what she loved, or was she just perpetuating a cycle?
No. This was a gross abomination of her ideals, a perversion of her goals. She had done the very same as the lords who she thought so little of, using her power to harm. She had always wanted to use magic to help people in need, and now, as she scanned over the droves of corpses left in her wake, she finally felt the horror of what she had done. Of what she had become. She was a monster. A devil.
"Yelena! Please!"
Hemlock's voice at last broke through to her, his words desperate. She could feel him close, as could she feel Sonya. The battle had come to a stop, neither army sure what to make of the wave of destruction that had just swept over the battlefield.
"Find Sonya," she instructed, slowly coming to her senses. She couldn't think about what she had done right now. She had to find Sonya, she had to save her.
The magic flowing wildly through her body began to dissipate, but she wasn't done with it just yet. She grasped onto the thought, the fear, the rage, the passion that allowed her to access this blessing and held it tight. She still burned bright, though she knew that without the detachment she had experienced before it would fade quickly.
"I already have! Come to me, quickly, and keep a hold of yourself."
He was both angry and concerned. She felt as though that was…appropriate.
Without delay, she descended towards where she had felt Hemlock's presence. The soldiers of Lord Inod stared at her in fear as she approached their lines from the air, and as she neared the rear lines, the parted for her without hesitation. On the ground, in a pool of blood, both hers and her comrades, Sonya laid. Her eyes were locked on her, but she didn't speak. Sonya hadn't been around to see her the only other time she had used her blessing. She'd never seen her like this before. A thin trail of blood dribbled from her lips, and it looked as though even lifting her head was a great struggle for her. The arrow that Yelena had felt was still lodged in her chest, almost perfectly centered. The only reason she had lasted this long was because it hadn't hit any of her vital organs, but she was still minutes from bleeding out. Hemlock was beside her, his hair standing on end. She could tell that he was prepared to grow into his full size at any moment. She wasn't sure if it was because they were surrounded by soldiers on an active battlefield, or if it was because of her own threatening visage. The soldiers around them had given her a wide berth, their mouths agape yet silent. They watched on in fear, unsure whether to fight or flee. She was certain that her outward appearance was terrifying, but that was fine. She didn't want to be interrupted anyway. She stepped forward, letting her magical sword vanish into sparkles of energy. She didn't need it anymore. She hadn't needed it before either. Her mind was in a struggle with itself, the guilt of what she'd just done mixed with the relief of seeing Sonya still breathing leaving her unsure of what to say. Even so, she knew what she needed to do. What she should have done, rather than losing herself in her rage.
"Hey," she said, her voice as soft as she could muster.
"Hey," Sonya replied. Her voice was hoarse. She smiled, then said, "That's a good look."
Yelena, surprised by her comment, looked at herself for a brief moment. Her body was aglow with magical light, her back draped in silvery wings made of pure energy that distorted the air around them.
"Well, you look terrible," she replied, not sure how else to.
"I think I'm dying, so," she said, stifling a cough, wincing in pain.
Yelena took a few steps closer, still struggling to hold the power within her tight. She knew she only had a little more time. She kneeled down beside Sonya, making sure to keep her wings well away from her prone body.
"Do you remember how we first met?"
Sonya swallowed with some pain, then nodded. Yelena could feel her power waning, slipping from her grasp.
"'Course I do."
"You remember how you gave me that water?"
She smiled, nodding without speech.
"Then let me return the favor, and let me say what I've needed to say for so long."
Sonya didn't reply, simply watching her with curiosity, Hemlock doing the same. Yelena took a deep breath, then without another moment's delay, leaned down and placed her lips on hers. At the same time, she pulled on the magical power that she had kept in her grasp, shaping it and willing it to do her bidding one last time before returning to its source. Sonya's lips were cold and chapped, but they were perfect all the same.
The magic that had given her impossible strength began to flow, aided by the bond their souls shared already, and flooded Sonya's body with brilliant radiance. Guided by Yelena's mind, it moved through her and began to mend her wounds, dissolving the arrow into its base parts as it reformed the damaged tissue it had caused. She placed her hand over the wound, gently aiding in the healing process, but making sure not to pull away. For what felt like minutes, but was likely a matter of seconds, they kissed with all the passion she could possibly muster. All of her love, her burning desire to protect, her rage, her everything, all behind this one act. On that terrible, bloody battlefield, Yelena was finally able to be truly honest for the first time.
She could barely register the murmuring of the surrounding soldiers, but as she finally pulled away, silence again fell over their immediate area. Yelena could taste a bit of the blood that had been on Sonya's lips, and she wiped it from her mouth with her thumb. Sonya stared at her in disbelief, her hands searching for the wound that was almost certainly fatal up until a moment ago.
"How did you…" she muttered.
"I don't know if there's a place in your heart for me, but I need you to know that I love you. I have for a long time. I hope that's okay," Yelena said, looking just to the side of Sonya, unable to say such things to her face just yet. It was hard enough saying it at all, but she hadn't come here on a whim. She stole a glance back at her, and before she could react, Sonya had all but leapt upwards and wrapped her arms around her.
"Oh, Yel," Sonya said, her voice shaky. "I'm sorry. I pushed you away so that you wouldn't do anything rash for my sake, yet here we are."
Though she was caught off guard by the sudden embrace, she was now able to pull her in tight and hold her close once again. Despite everything that was happening around them, she wasn't going to let her go. Not now. Not ever. Her own throat was burning now, likely from the magic she had forced through it more than anything, but she spoke as confidently as she could anyway.
"If you'd have me, I'm yours. Now and forever."
She was terrified of what her response would be, but she had to make sure that Sonya knew what she felt, heard her truth. That way, she'd have no regrets. She knew that there would be great consequences for what she'd done here today, but at least one thing would be settled.
Much to her surprise, Sonya laughed. Yelena pulled back a bit from their embrace and met her gaze. She was grinning.
"I hope your confessions are less dramatic than this from now on," she said, placing a hand on her cheek. Yelena felt the warmth of her palm again, savoring the feeling, ignoring the blood. She closed her eyes and took it in. This may be their first and last chance. "Of course I'd have you. I love you."
The words hit her ears and took her mind an age to register. Then, with a full heart and a warm smile, Sonya pulled her in again. Their lips touched, and a flood of warmth flooded them both. Yelena couldn't help but take a sharp breath in, pulling her in even closer. It felt like she'd been waiting for this kiss for all of her life, and now that she'd had it, everything was going to be alright. She never wanted to let Sonya go, never wanted to take her hands off of her. The warmth she'd felt began to spread all over her body, and the tension she'd felt began to melt away.
"Witch."
The sudden break of the silence, and the venom behind the word, snapped Yelena out of her trance. She pulled back from Sonya, turning to look at who had dared to interrupt her. The soldiers who had surrounded them were quickly kneeling where they stood, lowering their head in reverence of the man who now stood mere feet from her. He wasn't particularly tall or handsome, nor was he well built. Instead, he seemed exceptionally average, save for the crown that rested upon his brow. He was bald and only wore a large, thick mustache on his upper lip, draped in plate armor that reflected the sun above with its perfect polish. The colors and heraldry of Eastlark were emblazoned on his breastplate in regal glory, displayed proudly for all to see. There was little doubt in Yelena's mind; this was Lord Inod.
Yelena slowly stood and put herself between the man and Sonya. Hemlock moved just to her side, making his presence known to her. In her head, he spoke.
"Please, think before you act this time."
She knew, but she could hardly blame him for the reminder. Inod stared at her with disgust, his hand on the sword strapped to his waist.
Yelena straightened her hat, took a deep breath, then spoke with as much confidence as she could muster.
"I am taking the people of Harske and going home."
The monarch narrowed his eyes.
"On whose authority, witch?"
"Easy," Hemlock urged.
Yelena summoned Éan beag to her hand and forcefully stamped its end into the muddy earth beneath her.
"Mine."
A few of the soldiers around them audibly gasped, shocked by such a bold challenge directly to their lord's face. She didn't care. She knew full well that raising a hand against him would result in a full on assault on Harske. Instead, she wanted to let the lord know that she wasn't scared of him, and clearly, she was more than capable of defending herself and the town.
His eyebrow twitched, and he was quiet for a long moment.
"What are you called, witch."
He wasn't asking as a formality. It was to put a name to an enemy. With pride, she replied.
"I am Yelena the Silver Witch, and I protect Harske and its people. You would do well to remember that."
Another round of gasps. Good.
Inod's sword arm tensed as if readying to draw his blade.
"Are you threatening me, Silver Witch?"
Yelena lowered her eyes, the bright sun blocked by her wide brimmed hat, shadowing her eyes.
"I have no need for threats, Lord Inod. My actions speak for themselves."
After a moment, Inod's sword arm relaxed. He didn't take his hand from the hilt, but he looked as though he was convinced.
"Take your people and leave. Know that my mercy is not infinite, and that another trespass of your kind in my lands will result in a swift reprisal."
Yelena smiled. She'd won.
"Very well, Lord Inod."
She wanted to say more, to tell him how pointless this entire charade was, how senseless all this violence was…but she hardly had room to speak. Instead, she'd take her people and go home. She knew that she had just made a bitter rival, but she would far outlast his mortal life. If she could keep a low profile until he died or was replaced, she'd likely be in the clear, as would Harske. As for the opposing army, who she had decimated and knew little to nothing about, she'd tackle that problem later.
She turned and helped Sonya to her feet, doing her best to ignore the eyes of the soldiers around them who stared in shock at what had just happened. She too was surprised, but she didn't have time to gawk at anything right now. While her wounds were healed, Sonya's body was still exhausted of energy. Yelena slung the taller woman's arm over her own shoulder and began to limp back towards the rear lines of the army. It seemed that, for now, the battle was over. Even if it was just for a day, she could at least say that was positive. What she'd done to cause such a result…well. Again, she tried not to think about that right now. She needed to get her people out of here before something else happened.
Under her breath, but loud enough for only Yelena to hear, Sonya whispered, "That was really cool, by the way."
Yelena replied with a "Pfft," then shifted Sonya's weight on her shoulder before carrying on.
***
Somehow, through either luck or fate, none of the villagers of Harske had been fatally wounded in the three days of battle. Most had been part of the auxiliary lines, hauling supplies or tending to the wounded. Only a small group had actually been sent out to fight, namely Sonya and her band of fellow hunters. While most were wounded to some degree, all had survived, though it was clear that their scars weren't all physical. One of the men, a younger lad named Ryan who had always been the life of the party after a long day of hunting, had been part of the spear line that had been demolished during the opening day of fighting. He and a few others had survived, but all signs of youth and joy that had always been in his eyes were long gone. When Yelena had come into the tent he had been housed in to allow him and two dozen other wounded soldiers to convalesce, he had greeted her with a thousand yard stare and had refused to speak a single word. He had lost his left leg, caught under a horse's charging hoof according to one of the chirurgeons. Still, with some assistance, he came along with her all the same. All sixty-three villagers had been accounted for after most of the day and part of the night searching about the massive staging camp, and once the people had all been gathered in a large clearing between some of the roughly constructed tents, Yelena went about explaining the situation. Many were more than shocked to see her there and to hear that she was the bright light that had flashed across the sky that day. Some watched her with awe, others clearly showing fear. She could hardly blame them. Most of them only knew her as the strange woman who sold them potions and wore an odd hat. Now they had some idea of what she was truly capable of, and that she was something different, like being in the presence of something dangerous without ever realizing it. She knew that perceptions of her would change, and not necessarily all for the better. That was fine. She didn't need them all to think she was a harmless quirky girl for them to still be under her care. She'd protect them all the same.
Some folk cried tears of joy, others wore expressions of concern. It was clear to them that she had gone against Lord Inod's commands, and even Yelena wasn't sure if what that might eventually mean would be worse than running supplies for his army for a brief time for these people. She'd have to do her best to waylay their fears and anxieties later, though she knew that would be a difficult task for some. Once all her explanation was over, Sonya chimed in to instruct them all to form a tight circle around Yelena. While this hadn't been her exact plan, in theory, she should be able to take anyone back with her using her one-way transport spell back home. After some dubious looks and some convincing, the large group of people eventually moved around her and all held on to one another, forming a sort of chain that all led back to Yelena. With Hemlock's additional magic energy, she funneled all of her magic and his into the ritual circle she had carved into the dirt beneath her. In a bright flash, every single villager of Harske vanished from the muddy battleground, reappearing an instant later in the grassy field just outside her home.
After a very cramped stay at her home, she went about helping everyone back home the following day, healing those who needed aid and escorting them the short distance to Harske. To say that the people were more than a little shocked to see their friend and family suddenly return home to them would be an understatement, but Yelena made sure that she stayed well out of the way. She didn't want to be lauded as some hero. She was just glad to see smiles at last return to faces that had nearly forgotten how to. That was more than enough for her. Families held each other close, wept tears of joy and shared stories once more. While the scars of what had happened would take time to fade, they could at least start the process together.
As for Yelena, once the adrenaline and drive of returning everyone home began to fade, she was again left with her own thoughts. Thoughts that, in truth, she wasn't quite ready to face. Rather than flying back home, she instead opted for a simple walk through the Deep Forest with Hemlock.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, once they were out of earshot of the village. He matched her pace as they walked, speaking with his voice instead of into her mind.
She flexed her arms and looked over herself for a moment.
"Fine, I think. I don't feel as dead like last time at least, but I'm pretty tired and sore."
"Good. Your body is adjusting to the blessing, little by little. But I was referring to your mental state, rather than physical."
Yelena wasn't really sure. Now that she wasn't surrounded by people who needed her help and she was able to quietly recall what had happened, she wasn't feeling great.
"I…don't know. I feel like I should feel awful. I did a terrible thing, even if it meant that I saved Sonya," she said, gazing down at her hands. The hands of a monster, capable of killing without pause. "But something is different. Its almost like…like it wasn't me who was doing all of that. Like something else took over and was steering my body."
Hemlock was quiet for a moment.
"You are a kind person, Yelena. I have always known this. It was part of why I chose to support you. And yet," he paused, searching for the right words, "this world is cruel to people like you. It will chew you up and spit you out without a second thought."
He moved ahead of her and then came to a stop.
"I had wanted to protect you, the same way that you longed to protect these people. Your vision was pure, your ideals wonderful and full of love. They were also incredibly naive."
Yelena crossed her arms over her chest, but let him continue.
"Magic is a tool, yes. It is not inherently good or bad, positive or negative. And yet time and time again, it is used to cause suffering, to cause harm, all for greed and personal gain. But not with you. You have used your incredible strength to aid those around you, to protect those you love. It is rare. The draw of such power is a corrupting influence, though the magic itself has no will of its own. It is a flaw of humanity, not of magic, though it could be argued otherwise all the same."
Hemlock turned and looked at her now.
"What you did to those soldiers, it was awful. You slaughtered them, Yelena. That is something you will live with for the rest of your days. Their faces will haunt your dreams, their cries will rouse you from your meditations as their spirits demand recompense. Few have risen to such heights of power and not been changed for it. I have no doubt that your very soul will forever be stained by this, but I will not denounce you or the reason for which you did it. The men and women you killed had families, hopes, dreams, ambitions just like you did. The only difference is that they fought under colors that differed from your own."
Hemlock's words stung. He was right. Even as he spoke, she found it difficult to wipe the images of her brutal killing that seemed to stick to the forefront of her mind's eye. She couldn't allow herself to back away from this.
"It is just as I said before. Your kind is prone to conflict. It is your nature. You only acted as your lesser, primal self dictated you should. But that does not absolve you of the blame. I will not be so careless as to say I have never done something I deeply regret in my past, that my soul is stainless. To live in this world is to cause suffering, and to suffer in return. It is simply the way of things. Just know this; you can be better. You can always be better, Yelena. There is no depth from which one cannot find the surface again. Put your mind to the task of doing all you can to improve every life you touch, and perhaps one day, the souls of the dead will leave you in peace. That is the most any of us can ask for."
She had no reply. Hemlock, having said his piece, began down the trail once more for home. She followed shortly after in silence.
***
Yelena spent the rest of the day cleaning up from hosting a little more than five dozen shellshocked villagers in her home suited for one. She used her magic to animate a host of brooms and dusters, making short work of the simple chores while she went about making herself dinner. It had been interesting leaving the Deep Forest for the first time in what felt like forever, even though it was only a little over a year. Her perspective on many things had changed, and so too had her ability to interact with the world. When she had first left her home, holding only her book and the clothes on her back, she never would have believed that she'd face down the lord of Eastlark and come out on top. While she waited for a pot of stew to come to a boil she went and found that old tome, tucked away in a drawer full of her own notes on her own research. She hadn't cracked it open in months, having mastered every topic it spoke on by now. She flipped the cover open slowly, and it opened to a random page a quarter of the way through. The words were easy to understand now, explaining the simple concept of weaving magic into inorganic objects to alter their state.
Yelena chuckled. Simple. Right.
She couldn't even read the words here two years ago, much less begin to grasp the idea of altering an object's state of matter. She skimmed down the page, reading words she'd already read dozens of times before. She wished that Ysha, the kind old wizard in the bookshop, not the mindless monster that had attacked her, could see her now. She could've finally paid him back for his kindness. She'd never get the chance now, but that was okay. The world wasn't fair, and she couldn't expect it to be. She'd learned that lesson already.
A knock on her door pulled her from her reminiscing. She gently closed the grimoire and returned it to the drawer, making her way to the front door. She already knew who it was. She'd skipped the main purpose of her going off to find the army in the first place after all, so their soul bond was still intact. She opened the door and leaned on the frame.
"Hey," Sonya said, smiling as she waited to be invited in. She held a bottle of wine in one hand, a basket with a linen cloth concealing its contents in the other.
"Hey," she replied, returning the smile. For a long moment, the two just stood and stared into each other's eyes. Yelena wasn't exactly sure what they were supposed to do now that they'd confirmed their feelings for each other, but she was sure they'd figure it out somehow.
"Smells good in there," Sonya commented, making an exaggerated sniffing motion with her head. "Mind if I stay for dinner?"
"I'd be pretty upset if you didn't."
Sonya grinned like a kid, then made her way inside. She dropped off the basket and the wine on the table before going to inspect the pot of stew, wafting the rich aroma towards herself. Yelena shut the door, doing her best to remain calm and composed. They'd spent plenty of nights together, and she'd stayed over more times than she could count. It was different now though, and for whatever reason, she was so nervous that she had goosebumps.
"I'll leave you two be. I'll be around."
Hemlock's voice echoed in her mind, and while she appreciated the sentiment, she was secretly hoping he'd sit in and act as support. Not that he had any desire to do so, much less any skill at it of course. She didn't bother replying to him. Her mind was too occupied with the woman who had just entered her home and was waiting to eat her cooking. Frustratingly, that skill set had been unmoving in terms of forward progress. She could see and control the weave and weft of magical energies with a single finger, imbue a rock with life and snap a tree in half with a wave of her hand, but she still couldn't bake a cake to save her life. Something to work on that hopefully didn't involve any negative ramifications.
Despite the awkwardness she was feeling, she did her best to hide it and play it cool. She didn't know how exactly to act, but she'd figure it out in time. Probably.
"How are you doing? Everything heal up well?" Yelena asked. She inspected the bottle of wine, its bottle cheaply made and likely reused half a dozen times. They didn't exactly have access to the finest of beverages out here.
Sonya turned to her and said, "Fine, somehow. That was really something, you know. I've never seen anything like that before."
"Well don't get used to it. It's not something I can do easily."
Yelena heard rustling fabric and looked up to see Sonya with her shirt unbuttoned down to her ribs. The sudden disrobing almost made her drop the bottle, and her face turned beet red.
"Uh, what are you doing?" she asked, struggling to take her eyes from Sonya's exposed chest.
"There's hardly even a scar, see?" she replied, almost sounding excited. Then, she seemed to realize what she was doing and why Yelena had reacted how she did.. Her own cheeks flushed as she quickly pulled her shirt back over her chest. "Just wanted to, uh…"
There was a long pause as they were both lost in uncertainty. Yelena cleared her throat, then tried to segue.
"Glad it's healed! Want to eat? Should be ready by now."
She mentally breathed a sigh. They had both seen each other practically naked multiple times before, but the context had always been very different. Now, it felt scandalous.
They went about serving and eating the mediocre stew, talking about what all had happened while they had been separated. Apparently the training for the army had been short and mostly useless, consisting primarily of basic commands and making sure that the archers knew how to shoot and the spearmen knew how to point forward. It was all just as hasty and disorganized as they had worried it would be, and had it not been for Yelena's timely intervention, there was a very good chance that Lord Inod would have been forced to retreat that same day. Though Sonya seemed to be in good spirits, it was clear to Yelena that the last few weeks had been difficult. Unlike her, Sonya wasn't used to near-death situations as much as Yelena was. She may have been a hunter, but she was far too skilled to put herself in harm's way on the regular like Yelena had done when she was first learning magic. A lull in the story telling came after a while, and she took a chance.
"Are you really doing okay? Like, really?"
Sonya looked at her with some confusion for a moment, then gently smiled.
"I think. It's just a lot, and I don't think I've had time to sort it all out. The boys had it worse than I did, so I don't even feel like I have the right to complain, you know?"
She understood what she meant. When there were people suffering much worse than she, who hadn't been saved by an explosion of magic, it was hard to justify feeling down. She'd dealt her own fair share of that too, but she knew it wasn't necessarily fair either.
"I know, but don't feel like you can't talk about it. You know I'm here for you, yeah?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Yel."
The idle chit-chat lasted throughout the rest of the meal, and well past. The dregs in their bowls had long since dried and the bottle of wine nearly emptied before Yelena realized how late it'd gotten. The sun had set a while ago, and only a few candles and the fireplace lit the room now. She'd totally lost track of time, and now she'd have to help Sonya get back home. The Deep Forest was far too dangerous at night for her to go back unarmed. She didn't mind it, but she knew that Sonya didn't like being a burden, as many times as Yelena reinforced that she wasn't. They were both a little tipsy, or maybe a tad bit drunk, but she knew that she needed to get home all the same. She hated to bring it up, but she didn't want her morning duties to suffer for her sake. After a while they had moved to the soft, large chairs that Yelena had placed in front of the fireplace a few months back. They sat slightly angled from each other, enough to easily see the other but not directly.
"Hey, we should get you back home," she posed, hoping she wouldn't get a lot of pushback.
Sonya turned to her with a pout. Great.
"Kicking me out at this hour? It's like you want me to get eaten or something," she complained. Rather than standing, she instead proceeded to curl up in the chair, her head leaning over the armrest. She was looking up at Yelena, the soft firelight flickering in the reflection of her eyes. Her red hair seemed to be glowing in the dim light.
"Don't you have work to do tomorrow?" Yelena asked.
"Who cares. Nobody is going to starve if I put it off another day, yeah?"
Yelena laughed. She wasn't wrong. It wasn't like she wanted her to leave, but if she stayed…
"Hey."
Yelena didn't have the guts to look directly at her, but she would do her best to say what was on her mind.
"Hey," Sonya replied, reaching over and poking her lightly on the arm.
"Do you want to…stay…the night?"
The butterflies that were fluttering in her stomach tried to attack her now, and a wave of nausea washed over her as she realized what she'd just asked. It was way too forward, there was no way she would accept-
"More than anything, yes."
Yelena whipped her head to look at her, where her cheek was caught by Sonya's palm. She lightly swept down to her chin, holding her with her thumb and pointer. Yelena felt like she was overheating at this point, not sure if it was from the alcohol, the mood, or both. It was probably both.
Sonya gently pulled her down, guiding her towards her lips. Despite the awkwardness of it being Yelena's second real kiss, and it being upside down, she did her best to make it work. Their lips touched, and a rush of endorphins rushed through her, washing away all the tension and anxiety. She was so soft, so warm. For a moment, Yelena held still, unsure what to do next. That was when she felt Sonya's tongue pressing against her closed lips, asking for entry. She was surprised, but she allowed it regardless, moving her own tongue to meet hers. It was totally new, but it felt amazing. Without even realizing, her hands were on Sonya's body, desperately grasping for more. She wanted more, and she'd waited for so long already that she didn't want to wait any more. She felt warmth in places she hadn't felt before, not in this way. Involuntarily, she let out a soft moan.
Sonya giggled.
Yelena was suddenly keenly aware of the odd things her body was doing that she'd never experienced before, and again the awkwardness returned. She pulled away, embarrassed by her own actions. She let Sonya go and pulled herself into as small of a ball as she could, hoping that Sonya couldn't see how red her cheeks must've been. Wasn't this what she'd wanted? Why was it suddenly so hard for her? She'd already started it, so why this all of the sudden?
"Gods, you're so cute," Sonya said, her voice sweet like honeyed wine. "You're getting shy now?"
Yelena could hear rustling in the chair, but refused to look up.
"Shut it."
She felt Sonya's hands on her knees, gently trying to part the barrier she'd erected to protect her own embarrassment. She didn't put up much of a fight. Sonya was crouched down in front of her, looking at her from between her thighs.
"If you wanna stop, we can. If not…"
The only thing holding Yelena back was herself. She didn't want to look like an idiot, but this was her first time doing anything like this. It was a lot of pressure, even though she knew it shouldn't have been. She wanted to, so very, very badly, but her own self-doubt was holding her back.
But…why? She'd taken on a god of lightning. She'd taken down a power-mad wizard. She'd bested an entire army. Now she was scared of…what? Kissing the woman she loved? Absolute nonsense.
Yelena let her legs drop to the floor and leaned forward, this time lifting Sonya's head up towards her own.
"I'm all yours, Sonya."
Sonya grinned, then gripped her hand and kissed the top of her palm like a prince courting his destined princess.
"Then come along, my silver witch. Let's make some magic."
After a short pause, they both laughed out loud at the corniest joke of the evening. Without warning, Sonya scooped Yelena up out of the chair and carried her in her arms, making her way upstairs to Yelena's bedroom. They giggled the whole way up the stairs, partially from the drink, mostly from the bliss of being with each other. They didn't get much sleep that night, and while many sounds came from that small cabin under the cover of darkness, laughter between two lovers was certainly among the most regular.
