Niana laid in bed. Alone. Four blankets pulled over her head as she shivered. The wendigo was outside her window, and just beyond the gates that ought to have been impenetrable. It was coming for them, coming for her.
A shudder ran down her spine, she couldn’t face the beast. Not alone. She needed Liam and Matimeo to stand by her side… To die for her.
*Slap*
Niana’s hands found her cheeks, chasing away the thought. Liam was already dead, he couldn’t save her now, and Matimeo lay dying in the central chapel. Her magic whispered across the city, telling her of all comings and goings. Without Niana the soldiers had fought, expending their arrows and guiding the hulks to and from the killing fields. Spears were collected, arrows retrieved, but each day there were less darts, less defenses. When they were out, it would come.
A knock thudded against the door, three knuckles alerting Niana’s cursed ears.
“Niana, come quickly! It’s Matimeo, he asked to see you.” Called a husky voice, one that had been crying.
“Go away!”
“Niana, please, I can’t hear his heart beating anymore. Today really is his last.”
Matimeo, her protector, the one who had secreted her out of Blackwood castle, the one who had kept her alive. Kept her secret, no matter what it took. Even cutting off her ears and tail, Matimeo had helped her through it all. But now he was dying, going the way off all the earth. Tears leaked from Niana’s eyes, she couldn’t stand to look at Matimeo’s dying face for even a second longer, not when she was this weak. Better for him to not see her at all, so he might remember her as the strong woman he had raised, and not this broken fraidy cat.
‘Niana,’ Said a whisper inside her mind, startling her so badly she leapt out of her skin.
‘It’s time I passed on my letters to you, mementoes of your father Liam.’ Said Matimeo, using his light affinity to whisper into her mind.
“NO!” She shouted, tears streaming down her face.
‘You’re probably worried about how I’ll think of you, but a few tears won’t undo the pride I feel for having raised you. You’ve become a fine woman, A watch Catpian that will stand alongside Liam in all the legends of tomorrow. Come… see… them…’ Said Matimeo, his voice trailing off as his magic faded.
Tears were streaming down her face faster than she could blink them away. Niana snatched the Fang of Quetzalcoatl, shuddering as her fingers closed on the obsidian scabbard before sprinting out the door. Claws digging into the wood for greater purchase as she sprinted through Mont St Michel, sobbing as she ran. The spirits within her cloaked her passing, helping her to conceal some of the shame. Her underlings counted on Niana to be strong, her strength was their strength, if she wept then the entire city ought to weep and bleed before the end.
Today, Matimeo was dying.
The thought cut deeper than any blade ever could. She had not spoken it aloud, but she knew the truth in her bones. For all his brilliance, the venerable Archbishop could not outlast time’s march. He’d been old and gray, breathing his last when Pandora had come, yet now his time was truly coming to a close, and Matimeo –her Matimeo– was succumbing.
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A piercing gust of wind swirled around her, snapping at the edges of her cloak. Niana winced. It felt as though the very elements understood her suffering more than she could. She shook her head and forced herself onward, each step falling heavier than the last as she hurled towards the chapel. Finally leaping through an open window and dashing through the obsidian chapel and into the private cloisters of the archbishop. The corridors within the room were dim, lit only by candles sputtering their last breaths. Muggy with the thick smoke of incense. She passed familiar faces, townspeople, militia, servants, and guards each sitting in the chapel with their heads bowed. Offering prayers to a god whom they had never known, to an idea of humanity’s protector that was only a half-truth. All could sense the gust of wind, and knew it was her. They owed their lives to her, not just once, but a hundred times over. It was only justice for her to claim the last few seconds of Matimeo’s life.
“Ah, Niana comes, please, let us speak in reverence.” Whispered Matimeo, clearing the room.
Atop his simple bed of worn linen, Matimeo rested. His once-vibrant face was pale, his skin thin like parchment, and his breath came shallow. Niana approached quietly, heart hammering in her chest. Mouth dry. She had faced down death before, had faced enemies twenty times her size and won, but this… this was different. This was their home. When distant paladins came to search for eclipsiarchs, she had hidden under this very bed. This was the room where Matimeo had kept her safe, even potty training her, for no one wasted such niceties on a slave with no parents. They could piss where they lay, or learn to hold it while being chained to a wall. So many memories were here, all with Matimeo’s smile. He had never raised his voice, nor did he swear or treat anyone with an unkind word. When the people were gone Niana appeared at Matimeo’s bedside, her head buried in his blankets. Unable to look at him for fear of meeting his eyes.
“Let it out Niana.” He whispered, stroking her hair.
“No!”
He chuckled, “I have wandered this earth since the human’s imprisoned Taloc- ack-” He coughed.
Niana couldn’t stop herself, she caught his hand, and held it to her cheek. A vain attempt to keep him in this world.
“Niana, I will always love you, just like Liam an Nyota love you–”
“--Then don’t leave me alone! Not again! You’re all I have left!” Cried Niana.
“Nyota still lives, and loves you still. And I doubt Nora or Lyra would be happy to hear those words leave your lips.” He whispered.
“They aren’t here! I can’t- I-”
“Can. You were the first to awaken, you are the First Found child of the Lightning Daughter. In time, you will understand fully, but today- ahem. Ack, bedside table.” He gasped, falling into a fit of coughs and then lying very still.
Niana’s ears listened to his breathing, making sure he was still alive before searching the table. Inside it lay a scepter full of light mana, and several transcribed copies of Saint Liam’s letters.
“Taloc himself gave me that staff, and all these years later it has served me well. It was once the deciding prop that permitted me entry into this church of blasphemy. Use it well Nia.” He whispered.
“I can’t use holy magic!” She shouted, unable to control her volume.
Snot began to leak out of her nose, watery phlegm from tears. Matimeo beckoned her close, patting her head as she knelt at his side.
“The greatest reward Taloc has ever granted me…” He breathed hard, struggling to speak. Voice dwindling as he pressed on. “Was meeting you.” He whispered, spending his last breath on what was most precious.
Niana heard his body go still. The lack of breathe, the stillness of his heart.
“Matimeo? Cmon, wake up.” She said, putting a hand against his forehead.
It was already cooling, a noticeable chill next to the innate warmth of Pandora’s cursed obsidian. Niana’s heart clenched. Mind understanding the truth but heart rejecting it.
“Matimeo. Matimeo! MATIMEO! WAKE UP!” She screamed, loud enough for the whole city to hear.
But the old man was gone, his soul departing for the elysium fields of Taloc’s promised lands. Where there was no slavery, no vivisections, or any other brutal regimes. Though it would be an incomplete paradise until those who were most precious would join him. Which would not be as far off as he hoped.
Niana wailed, howling her grief as the last friend she had in Mont St Michel died in her arms.