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Crown of Thorns
Chapter 8 - The Forgotten

Chapter 8 - The Forgotten

“…ra.”

“…ora.”

“…Sora.”

As she woke, Faerie clung to the voices that seemed that seemed to evade her memory, always just out of reach. She hummed a tune from the deepest recesses of her spirit, a bittersweet melody that brought joy and pain to her heart in equal measures for reasons she could not fully understand. Humming to herself, she lounged within the comfort of her lotus until Arachne appeared to check up on her.

Despite Arachne’s normally impassive exterior, she wore an expression full of mixed emotions as she gazed at Faerie, although care and concern were at the forefront as always. “Missed you,” said Faerie, and gestured for Arachne to come join her on the lotus. Arachne obliged, coming to rest beside Faerie on the lotus before drawing her into a hug. Faerie’s emotional turmoil had been increasing lately, reflected by the rapid changes she was undergoing.

“Now, now, little one.” Said Arachne. “You needn’t fret whilst I’m away. There is naught in this world that would prevent my return to you.” She continued, stroking Faerie’s hair soothingly. “Had a dream… wasn’t here, it was… before…“ Said Faerie, recalling the barely formed scene from when she slept. “Wasn’t… me… but felt the same… so tired, it hurt… it hurt so much… Why did it hurt?” Faerie’s thoughts became chaotic as she recalled the half formed scenes from her dream. “There were… two. They always smiled, even though they were sad… They brought flowers, said they loved me… Don’t understand…” At this point, tears were running down Faerie’s cheeks as she recounted her dream. “Why can’t I remember them? They’re gone now, why did they leave? Will you go too? Will I be alone? Don’t want…”

Faerie’s voice faded to mumbling as she curled in on herself, clearly distressed. Arachne made soothing noises, and cupped Faerie’s cheek in her delicate hand, turning Faerie to look her in the eye as tears continued to stream down her face. “You mustn’t think like that, my darling. Your smile is far too precious a thing to be lost to fears and worries. Never forget, you and I are bound together. Leaving you is not something I could ever consider.” Arachne said, before pulling Faerie’s head close to rest against her chest. “My dear… The beauty you possess is too great for this cruel world.” ‘I would raze the heavens and earth if need be, to protect your innocence.’ Arachne thought, as she continued to soothe Faerie.

Before long, Faerie’s tears had stopped, and in a small voice, she spoke more about her dream. “The called me Sora.” She said. “…Can’t remember them… will they come back to me, too?” She asked, causing Arachne to freeze at the unexpected question. Though momentarily at a loss for words, Arachne finally spoke hesitantly. “I know not how or where they’ve gone, but I’m certain they would return to you as swiftly as they’re able… If it is your wish, I could call you Sora, that you might hold onto their memory better.”

Faerie thought for a moment before answering. “Mmm… That’s good. But what about you? Call you Sora, too?” Faerie asked, to which Arachne chuckled. “No, my dear. I could never claim that which is yours. Sora is your name, but if you would, you could choose a name to gift to me. I wouldn’t dare wish for a more wonderful blessing.” Faerie smiled for a moment, thinking of what name would best suit her friend. “Hmm… Midala. It sounds pretty and sharp, like you. Your name will be Midala.” Said Faerie, her smile now broad, the earlier hints of melancholy nowhere to be seen. Arachne stared wide-eyed at Faerie before her face broke into a beautiful smile, showing her pristine white fangs. “My name… Midala… yes. Thank you for this wonderful gift, my lady. Sora, I will never forget this. Thank you!”

Faerie-- Sora was delighted seeing Midala’s reaction to being named, and thought of Queen and Silver. She called out to them both through their bond, deciding to name them as well. Silver’s projection materialized standing at the edge of the lotus, while Queen flew down from the bees’ village, a streak of black and gold shooting through the air, alighting next to Silver. Midala beamed as she looked to both of them “Our lady has recalled her name, Sora, and has gifted me the name Midala!” She said, barely containing her excitement.

Sora nodded before saying, “Want to give you names too… If you want.” Both Silver’s and Queen’s eyes lit up at the offer, Queen’s practically blazing with anticipation and energy. Without hesitation, Queen knelt before Sora, her posture that of a knight before their lord. “My lady, I am your spear. To bear a name given by you would be my life’s honour.” Said Queen, her voice quivering as she tried to maintain a solemn tone.

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Sora moved to stand before Queen, her head slightly tilted as she thought about a name for her champion. “Has to be brave and strong like you…” Sora muttered, thinking aloud. “Alright. You’re Vana. Vana is the bravest!” She concluded with a proud smirk on her face, tapping her knightly companion’s shoulder with a gentle hand. Queen, now Vana, rose to her feet, her back straight as she radiated pride in her new name. “Vana… Vana will be brave for you, my queen.” She said, saluting with her right fists held against her heart.

Finally, Faerie came to stand before Silver’s projection, observing it’s figure, before turning her head skyward to take in the view of Silver’s branches that sheltered the entire garden. “You’re… home; our protector.” She said, and the eyes of Silver’s projection seemed to tremble at these words. “Your name will be Arun.”

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Camp of the Wildfire Legion, within the Wilds

“Legatus, we’ve lost almost an eighth of the men to poisoned provisions. It would seem that the attack last night was not solely aimed at the Ashweavers.” The Prefect stood within the Legatus’ command tent, delivering a report. “The poison was not discovered until it was too late, as it seems to remain dormant within the victim for hours before it leads to a swift and painful death. We are trying to identify which of the food and water stores have been tainted, but it will take time. Based on the present circumstance, I recommend limiting the Quartermaster’s punishment to flaying. Organizing rationing and resupply will be difficult without him, otherwise.”

Triyet sat at his desk, a dark expression on his face as he contemplated the disaster that had fallen upon his forces. Despite being preoccupied with his own thoughts, he listened carefully to the report of the Prefect. “Flaying it is. Two hands from the back. It is as you say, we cannot allow the legion to crumble due to incompetence.” Triyet said in a perfunctory tone. “Your will be done, Legatus.” Said the Prefect, snapping to attention and saluting before performing an about face and exiting the tent.

‘That was no ordinary enemy that attacked us… It was an agent of a false idol, I’m sure of it! With this… I may yet be able to salvage things. When I report to the Pillar, I’ll inform them that an Archon has been mobilized against us… with luck, our Lady will spare one of her chosen to face this aberration.’ Thought Triyet. ‘Let warriors face warriors, let monsters face monsters.’ was his view. Most Archons could lay waste to entire armies with ease, as had been painfully demonstrated with this incident. Furthermore, this particular Archon seemed to be an assassin, able to wreak havoc unseen.

He had to make his report to the Pillar, the decision to withdraw or advance after suffering such damage against a single foe… could not be left to him alone. Not if he wanted to keep his head atop his shoulders. Opening his desk drawer, he pulled out a smooth stone with runes carved into its surface. “Report.” Came a voice after the connection was established. “We’ve suffered a grievous attack from a false idol’s Archon. Our cohort of Ashweavers was wiped out completely, along with hundreds of soldiers. The Archon in question appears to be an assassin, employing poison and stealth, but we do not have the means to identify or defeat it. Requesting reinforcements and the dispatch of the Lady’s Chosen.”

For a long, drawn out moment, there was no response. “Report received. Response forthcoming, await reply.” Came the voice again. “Await reply, acknowledged.” Replied Triyet, as he settled in to wait for the response of the Pillar’s War Council.

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Far to the north, War Council Chambers of The Pillar

“The Wildfire Legion suffered an attack by an Archon, their losses are significant. Based on the assessment of the Archon, and the potential for more than one to appear, it is reasonable to dispatch on of the Lady’s Chosen to the south.” Said a voice, dry, aged, and lacking all feeling. “Triyet Vash is handed control of a Legion and manages to get it decimated not even a month into the campaign? While his family should not be held accountable, given their record, the man should be replaced and made a public example of.” Said a second voice, deep and filled with wrath.

“Seconded.” Came a third voice. “Failure must be punished, no matter the circumstance.” This voice belonged to an aged and hardened serpentine man whom many would recognise as a member of the Vash family himself. “If we can agree upon a suitable replacement, I recommend recalling the Legatus, and sending him to the caldera as punishment.” The elder Vash had been a member of the War Council for decades, and his family had served the Legions of Ash since they had come into being. He could not allow his descendant’s failure to mar the family name now, especially while they were at war with the Throne of Winter to the north. “If he can salvage the campaign to the south without further mistakes, I recommend he be allowed to die in battle against the Wolves of Winter. Any further disgrace, and let him be broken on the Wheel.”

“Seconded.” Said the first voice. “Agreed.” Said the second. “Very well. As for the request for one of the Lady’s Chosen… Malgrin, that beast, should be sufficient to the task.” Said the elder Vash. “Seconded.”  Came a reply. “Agreed.”

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