Everyone values different things. Some value diamonds and gold coins. Others value the food at their table or the roof over their heads. Me? I value the people surrounding me. The people that stay by my side no matter what kind of stupid shit I do. They pick you up when you fall or tell you to get off your ass and keep going. Never will they turn their back on you, and if they do, then they never really had any value to begin with, it was only you that hoped they had more to them than deception and lies.
I'm a hopeless hoper. Someone who hopes so much to trust anyone and everyone because the second that I don't I begin to blame myself for not being strong enough to make you stronger. I blame myself for feeling that you didn't have anyone else looking out for you – anyone who would absolutely care if you left. I don't like seeing people alone and pushed aside, not because it's wrong and no one should go through their trials of life alone, but because neglect and wrongful treatment is how evil lays its eggs.
No one is just born evil without being born with goodness in them as well, and there's no getting rid of one or the other.
There's a saying that Aracely used to tell me.
"Inside each of us are two wolves. One is evil. Created by anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The second is good. Created by joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. In a pack, there's always an alpha and another wolf who challenges the alpha. They fight for the highest rank, biting and clawing, bleeding, and growing stronger.
"Sometimes it's hard to tell which wolf will win, and most will say that in the end, it's always the one who is fed the most and that it's the alpha because he's the alpha and gets the most food to continue to be the strongest, but the truth is that the wolf who is strong enough to fetch its own food alone is the one who wins. So which one really wins?"
Everyone has two wolves that constantly fight for the title of Alpha, one being fed by those around you, and one fighting to feed itself. Surround yourself with good people and the one fighting won't win because those around you will make sure it doesn't. Surround yourself with the corrupt and they'll try to overrule what lies within you, but all you have to do is fight. Be the one that's strong enough to sustain yourself that no one could change your mind.
The Demoni was my evil wolf, and he pounced and fought me until I realized that I was stronger when I allowed myself to hunt for good, rather than feed the darkness. When he showed up and would launch straight for Clare's throat, all I did was beg it to stop. I'd beg and I succumbed to its superiority and greed which only fed it and made it stronger. Much as friends never gave in, I started to.
Once I realized my own humility, my own truth, and hope, I shoved him back into his dark corner and kept him out of my dreams. From that point on I had no more confrontations with him, and it wasn't all just because I, myself, made that realization. I could've never made that realization without my friends or without Clarice who, despite the fact that I'd throw her across the room, would still be there to tell me to rest easy while she watched over me.
She didn't care that the evil of my own making was winning the battle, she and all twelve of my friends knew the good that was me, and they helped me in seeing that it was far stronger than him. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm on my horse, following Víđarr through the silent streets of my home. Clarice was willing to take several punches and a million more to the gut to save me from the bad, and I'll be damned if I don't return the favor.
We reached the outskirts of Fernweh thirty minutes ago, and it took all our restraint to slow to a walking pace. Víđarr did his magical silent command thingy with the horses again, so we didn't really have a choice. Arthur - Lance - wants to go to the House of Jade, and though Víđarr agreed, he's been leading us all throughout the town. It annoyed me at first, but then I realized why he was doing so.
It's too quiet.
No lights save for those on the streets are lit. No sound echoes, and there are only the unconscious drunks that lay scattered here and there to occupy the cobblestone streets. I've never been outside of the castle grounds at night except when we'd sneak out, but we weren't actually on the streets for longer than the few minutes it took to get to the tunnel entrance to Gretel's Tavern, and by the end of the night we could only pay attention enough to get back into the castle. I don't remember much of the streets at night, but by the way that Lance keeps silently looking around, shoulders stiff, I'd say it's anything but normal.
I know that the town has lost its population due to the negligence of my father and that it would've likely thinned out due to the overthrown rule of the castle, but I didn't think it'd ever get this bad. Perhaps Víđarr and his wolves are the reason everyone's gone, but if he speaks the truth, then hurting people is the last thing they're focused on.
We come up on Howler Street and there's still no sign of human activity, though Gretel's is still open as usual. The only awake light on the street. At least there's one familiar sight to all of this. Everything else is locked and dark. Víđarr heads straight for Gretel's, and I can feel the annoyance running through Lance. Víđarr did say he'd take us to the House of Jade.
Tugging on the reins, I come up beside him and try to keep his quick-to-rise rage at bay. "He's the one who knows these streets best at the moment. We need to trust him."
"I grew up memorizing the entirety of this town," he seethes.
"Yes, but is it the same town you remember venturing through before we left?" He doesn't answer, but his posture does read defeated. "Whether we like it or not, we left Fernweh and haven't returned in seven cycles and two days. We know better than anyone what can change in lesser time."
The wind carries my words to the Bhaltayr behind us. Though I absolutely hate Claire for using her new position to put her brother under some kind of spell, she was right - about all of it. Especially our need to take a few days to make a plan that keeps everyone as safe as possible. Víđarr is our best bet at doing so, which is why we need to trust that he knows where the best place to start is.
Víđarr doesn't wait for us to follow, he just walks up the steps and pushes the door open with his nose. We dismount and head up the steps, all double-checking that we're sufficiently hidden beneath our hoods and masks. As much as I trust Víđarr, there's no telling which of Xaxias's followers could be watching.
Lance walks in first, along with Garrison and Winston before I follow. The first thing I notice about Gretel's is that it's absolutely full of patrons, to which I feel a rush of relief, and – get this – more water wolves. The wolves carry trays with drinks on their backs, others with food. The patrons don't seem to mind, though they do jump every now and then when one of the wolf's heads pops up next to theirs. A trait all the wolves seem to share, I think, remembering how their alpha had done it a dozen times on the way here
"By the Gods and their Saints, where in ten hells have you been?" I turn toward the voice that easily clears all the others in the room to find Gretel walking straight for us with purpose. The others stare for a moment, then go back to their conversations. I suppose it's safe to say no one recognizes us.
"Gretel-"
She pushes past Garrison and Winston and reaches out, somehow managing to get a hold of my ear beneath the hood. "Ow, Gretel!"
She pulls me forward, taking a hold of Lance's ear in her other hand on the way, and then heads to the private room in the back, forcing us along as we try and pry her fingers from our ears. When we enter the empty room, she shoves us forward and we catch ourselves against the tables. She's stronger than she looks.
"The idiocy of you two is impeccably stupendous!" She walks back out the door, shoving aside the Bhaltayr as easily as if they were nothing more than small children. They file in, each taking a spot in the room to rest their sore muscles from the long and fast journey. My own feel like rusty joints, but I've easily ignored them the last few days. Too much is on my mind to heed my own health.
"Do you think she mistook us for someone else?" I ask Lance.
He looks down at the chair next to him but ends up sitting on the edge of the table instead. "She's seen me plenty to know who I am. I'm not entirely sure how she knew who you were, but Gretel has impeccable memory." Which means that she likely knew all along that it was the Crown Prince who came to her tavern at least once a cycle. Great.
She walks back in, a buttload of fury written all over her and shooting sharp darts against the air element. "You two better have a damn good explanation as to why it's taken you two Godsdamned months for you to return - because if not – so help me by the Saints I'm going to strangle you both! How could your four combined brain cells not see this coming? If your ancestors were alive, they'd be spitting on your graves!"
"Gretel-"
"Don't you 'Gretel' me," she growls, pointing a threatening finger at Mal. I hear his jaw audibly snap shut and he sinks back into his chair. "You're all just as short-sighted as the two of them, though they should've known damn well what that girl had in mind."
"And how should we have known if she didn't show one sign of her true intentions?" Lance argues, clearly letting some of his anger out onto her. I'm just as mad, which is why I don't restrain him.
"The signs were looking you in the face! She's your Godsdamned sister! And you!" she yells, turning to me. "She's your-" She stops suddenly, her mouth moving as if to continue but no words follow.
"She's my what?" I challenge.
In all honesty, I don't have a clue as to what word you could choose to finish that sentence. We never really figured it out, nor did we have time to do so. It kind of just...happened, and then with the Elysian Ball and the knowledge that Xaxias would show up, it seemed like such a minuscule thing to discuss when the potential end of the world was staring us straight in the face and ticking loudly in our ears like a countdown. Maybe that's why Gretel doesn't finish, because she too has no idea what we were.
Not that it matters now. I'm getting her back, and that's all that I need to focus on. We'll have time for everything else later.
She doesn't answer and instead closes her eyes and shakes her head. "That girl has gone through more tragedies than just the few you know of. Did you really expect her to go through another?" It's our turn not to answer. "I knew from the moment I saw her walking on the arm of the Crown Prince down the street that it was her beneath the dress. No Maiden of the Court would give a rat's ass about those orphans. I also knew that at that moment, on that day, you fell in love with her."
I find her eyes, and I can't help but feel like I just got stabbed in the heart. I fight to keep my face blank. I've been keeping the small fact to myself, knowing very well what confronting the truth would do to me.
Gretel's right, no Maiden of the Court would've even glanced at the orphans, and neither would they have used that opportunity to show the people that their Prince was more than one night stands and dismissive rumors. I fell in love with her as I watched from a few steps back as she spoke with Roseia, coaxing her into staying and not running. I saw how Roseia looked at her with fear and sadness, and I saw how Mira looked at her with utter fascination.
They're the two reactions that people have to her, and it amazed me how Mira's fascination turned Roseia's fear into hope. I hadn't known at the time that that was when I fell for her, only that it made my world a little brighter and...and I felt lighter. It was like when the elements rushed us when the pendants met that day her aunt found us in the tunnels. I took a deep breath and it felt like I was breathing in the entirety of the world. It never scared me, not until the first day of the festival when I finally understood what it was I was feeling.
"When you love someone, you do what you need to in order to keep them alive." Gretel's anger suddenly falls, replaced with sorrow and...
I use the air element to place the feeling. The air feels...cracked. Like it skips an area in the space and jumps to the next. I've never felt anything like it. "I knew then exactly what she planned on doing, and I could do nothing to change her mind. No one could've. Not even any of you."
She looks up and I know why the air around her feels the way it does. Heartbreak. She's heartbroken.
"How?" Lance asks. I glance at him, finding no sign that he's sensed the same thing that I have. "How did you know she'd give herself up? She had no power then."
"Your sister never needed the power to accomplish something she put her mind to. Annoyingly enough, you both were too blindsided by your love to see that."
"You know she's in the castle," Vlad states.
"Of course, I know." She looks at him with an offended expression. "How else do you explain the mass of myths guarding it? Honestly. Where have you all been?"
"Well..." Ethan drifts off, each of us making no eye contact with her.
Her brows relax into disappointment. "Good Gods. You were out searching for her. Of all the places that came to mind, Fernweh wasn't your first stop?" Her calm crossed arms untangle only to raise in exasperation. "Just when I thought that you couldn't get any stupider, you go proving me wrong! Two fuckin months you've been searching! Two! Months! Gods give me the patience and restraint I will most definitely need to ever look any of you in the eyes again!"
"So you're not going to throw daggers at our heads?" Gabe asks. It seems he's not the only one who forgot Lance's story about how she threw one at Clare's. I have a goal to get his sister drunk after all of this is over just to see what he's talking about.
"Oh, no. That's her job." She motions to the door, and a second later Víđarr walks in, Aracely following him with several Hisperian curses already falling off of her lips.
I don't even get to hop to the other side of the table before she's hurling her sandals at me. "What the fuck were you thinking? Did you go blind? I taught you better than that!"
Eventually, she stops, and I get the chance to breathe and look around the room to find everyone else already on the other side of the room covering their heads. All except Lance who must've sly footed into the corner without her noticing. She may not know him, but that won't stop her from beating him with her sandal too. Gods know it didn't stop her from chucking one at Clarice's head.
"Of all the lessons I've given, did you not pay attention to any of them?"
"Aracely-"
"Aaaghh." She throws a hand in the air, denying me a chance to explain, and looks straight to the Bhaltayr. "I'll be skinning all of you. And you," she whirls around Lance, still trying to hide in the corner. "You, I'll pray for. Gods know your parents will be coming out of their graves to haunt you. I assume they're here so we can begin?" she asks Víđarr.
We need the mother and the father before she is to be seen
"Very well. That'll give me enough time to pluck these sorry asses like my abuela's pollo." Henry flinches when she goes to reach for him, nearly falling out of his chair to do so.
Ut Gaea tueri te
"Et elementa docebit vos," the two women respond at the same time. Víđarr bows his head and then leaves the room without another word. I don't understand the phrase, but I do know Thralian when I hear it.
"How do you both know Thralian?" Lance questions, pushing off of his wall to rejoin the light in the room.
"An explanation for another time," Aracely dismisses, taking a seat at the table. "Sientate." We all slowly find our own seats, Gretel surprisingly joining us next to her.
"What did Víđarr mean when he said that we need the mother and the father?" Vlad asks.
"And why do we need them before we get to see Claire?" Benny adds.
"The mother and father are a rather...loose term," Aracely answers. Her anger hasn't sidled one bit, and the look in her eyes tells me she's not going to be kind anytime soon.
"What he meant was that we need Melody and King Neven," Gretel explains.
I resist rolling my eyes at the sound of my father's name. "Why?"
"As I'm sure you know, Melody is no ordinary mare. She knows where to find the Ginerva, and we so desperately will need them when it comes to it."
Garrison leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table. "Who's the Ginerva? And how do you know all of this?"
The women share a glance. A long, silent glance.
Lance's anger folds first. "Just start from the beginning."
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