The Unseen Rain had a lot to think about.
After that annoying cleric randomly disappeared (probably some sort of teleportation spell using true magic, with zero care for how much damage that would do to her soul, the idiot), that ridiculous elven prince had walked them all the way back to the edge of the forest, just… talking with them.
Zaos, that was his name apparently, had spent some time explaining about the history of the forest. He described the trees there as Awakened. Apparently most trees around the world were asleep and unaware of their surroundings except for in the most basic possible ways. But the trees of the forest were Awake, and they had complex thoughts and feelings, and they were always paying close attention to the world around them.
That did somewhat explain why the trees in the forest had soul auras when they shouldn’t. Well, it didn’t really explain it, because Zaos never said why the trees were Awake that way, but it was better than nothing.
And he had explained what a curse-breaker was.
“The curse-breakers were an ancient and powerful order of elves,” he had said. “From back in the days when magic was more wild and abundant than it is today. Back then, everyone was being given curses or prophecies and the like, but these types of spells usually had highly specific gendered language. The curse-breakers were elves who dedicated themselves to fluidity, shifting identities as necessary in order to thwart these curses and prophecies. They performed a great service for society and were highly respected.”
Zaos had shrugged, then. “I just thought, perhaps your elven ancestors were once curse-breakers. You certainly seem to be carrying on their legacy. I find that admirable.”
While thinking deeply about this, Rain stared blankly at the rebel soldiers nervously running drills with their wooden training dummies.
“What are you still doing here!?”
Rain rolled their eyes. It was the other obnoxious elf prince, Agis.
“I don’t have anything better to do,” said Rain, with a bored tone.
“Okay, but we don’t want you here,” said Agis, folding his arms. “The only reason you’re not dead right now is because when you got here Zaos said you were a ‘good chap’ and that I shouldn’t kill you because he wanted to be able to kill you later in a ‘fair duel to the death between honorable warriors.’”
Rain yawned. They were vaguely aware that Agis was in his 30s or something, but he looked like a teenager. That made it hard to take him seriously when he was trying to act intimidating.
“Hey! Listen to me!” shouted Agis. He was like a toddler throwing a tantrum. “You can’t just hang around here. You’re our enemy! You’ve tried to kill Anne, like, a bunch of times!”
“No, I haven’t,” snapped Rain. “If I was seriously trying to kill her any of those times, she’d be dead already. And besides, she’s not actually my target anyway. My target is the Saintess.”
“What? What are you talking about? She—“
“Agis!” a thundering of hoofbeats followed this shout as that Lady Corvina woman galloped up at full speed. She reigned her horse in at the last second, causing it to rear up before halting.
For some reason, her long, pretty hair had been tied up in a loose ponytail, she was wearing a loose blouse with tight trousers, and she had glasses on. A very different look for her.
Corvina jumped off the horse.
“Have your two strongest horses brought out here immediately,” said Corvina. “We can’t afford to lose another minute.”
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“Why?” asked Agis. “What’s happening?”
“Eva,” said Corvina. “She’s taken Anne. Kidnapped her.”
“What, why?”
“It’s a long story,” snapped Corvina. “Too long. But Liza Tulin is currently working on tracking their location and I’m afraid if we don’t act now Anne’s life may be in very serious danger!”
Agis nodded and turned to the nearest rebel soldier. “You heard her,” he said. “Go get the two fastest horses!” Then, to Corvina. “Are you sure we shouldn’t bring more people? What’s the point of having troops if we don’t use them?”
Corvina shook her head. “No, in this case I think a larger force would just slow us down and give Eva too much forewarning that we’re coming. And at this point we don’t know who we’d be antagonizing by mobilizing our army. It’s better if we act alone, as quickly as possible.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Rain, stepping forward.
Rain took a step back as Corvina drew her sword and stabbed forward in one fluid motion. She hadn’t hesitated at all. If Rain’s reflexes had been any less sharp, their neck would’ve been skewered before they could move.
“I don’t have time for this,” said Corvina. “So I’ll give you two choices. Leave now and never show your face in front of me or Anne ever again. Or die.”
Rain had spent enough of their life on the razor’s edge between life and death to be able to tell when a threat was spoken with genuine intent.
“Wait, wait,” said Rain, holding up their hands. “I don’t want to kill Anne! I want to help save her.”
“Oh yeah?” growled Corvina. “Do you have to kill her personally to get paid or something?”
“She’s not my target!” shouted Rain, exasperated. “My target was the Saintess, and she’s not the Saintess!”
Corvina paused, and her hesitation told Rain everything.
“You already know, don’t you?” asked Rain. “Who she really is?”
There was a moment of tension, and then Corvina sheathed her sword.
“Agis,” said Corvina. “You’d better prepare three horses.”
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Anne watched as Eva busied herself around the room, preparing various ingredients while the chalk magic circle grew more and more complicated.
Anne could feel the adrenaline coursing through her body, willing her mind to work faster, begging her to use any and all skills at her disposal to find some sort of way out of this.
Unfortunately, her only real skills were having read a lot of fantasy romance novels, and being generally personable. Which probably weren’t particularly useful in this situation, but, well… it was worth a shot, wasn’t it?
“I get it now,” said Anne, straining her neck to follow Eva as she walked around.
Eva ignored her.
“I said I get it now,” said Anne, a little louder. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you? You’ve always been in love with her. But you were taught that it was wrong for women to love each other. And you loved Anne so much you couldn’t stand the thought of ‘corrupting’ her, right? So instead you just stayed by her side and worked quietly from the background to help her live a happy life. That’s a noble thing to do. But, you know, there’s actually nothing wrong with women loving each other. Your feelings for Anne don’t make you inherently corrupt or evil. It’s okay to feel that way. And I know you must be really shocked and in mourning right now after finding out that your Anne isn’t around anymore, but—“
Eva flicked her wrist and a piece of cloth flew off a nearby table and stuffed itself in Anne’s mouth. A second cloth soon came and tied the first one onto her face, making a strong gag.
“You don’t get anything,” Eva hissed. She approached Anne again, crouching to talk to her at eye level. “My ‘feelings for Anne don’t make me evil?’ Did you know I killed my own father when I was eight years-old? They said it was an accidental house fire, but it was my own magic that set it. I still remember how I felt that day. I wanted him to die. I wished for it so hard it twisted reality around me. And my mother, well, she must have been able to sense there was something wrong with me, because she took one look at me and denied I was ever hers. Bishop Geist could see the same wrong thing, but luckily for me she found it useful. You have no idea what dark, secret things I’ve done over the years to support the Bishop’s ambitions, to keep Anne safe. To keep her sheltered, as she should be. I could never let Anne get involved in all that muck. But it doesn’t matter what I do. I’m made of muck already. I was born from muck.”
Eva’s voice was so full of venom, Anne was surprised it hadn’t burned her. But when Eva reached out to touch Anne’s cheek, her touch was strangely gentle. And when she spoke again, her voice was so soft it was almost a whisper.
“Anne is everything that’s good in this world,” she said. “And I’m the opposite. Her shadow in all things… following behind her with my secret darkness. I think… I think if she truly loved a woman, I would be able to support her. Eventually. But as much as I would want to scream ‘why couldn’t it be me?,’ I know that it mustn't be me. Never me. If I touched her, I would destroy her.”
Eva let go of Anne and once again turned to go back to work. But she paused, briefly, her back turned to Anne. “And yet… I’m still too selfish to let her go. Maybe that’s the greatest sign of all that there’s something ‘inherently corrupt and evil’ about me.”
Anne was still scared, possibly more-so now that her last-second ploy to help Eva come to terms with her sexuality had failed. But, strangely, the fear was now mixed with another emotion entirely.
Pity.