REIGN | The Poppy Sequel

FOURTEEN

Hermione watches him as the sun begins to sink. Watches as the morning light paints saturating hues of oranges and reds across Robb's skin. Which subtly turns to lavenders and indigos. She watches as he eats and talks about their next move and then watches as he falls asleep. Hermione watches and waits, but for what she doesn't know.

"A girl sees so much and yet is so blind to herself." Jaqen's words haunt her all through the night as she sits up with Robb's arm thrown lazily across her chest.

What exactly was she seeing? And what was she blind to? Since she'd woken up in the forest with Robb and Grey Wind everything in her life seemed like it was hanging on by the edge. Hermione didn't know where she was going—or being led to by the untamable force she had yet to name—There were moments like right now when she just wanted to sink into the earth and never be heard from again. "What's the point?" she whispered to herself when from the corner of her eye she saw a thin whisper of smoke blow from one of Harrenhal's chimneys.

Sitting up straight, Robb's arm fell into Hermione's lap as her eyes strained to see through the night. What that just a trick of the night? She questioned before softly nudging Robb, but he didn't stir. "Robb," Hermione whispered. "Robb, wake up." She tried again with no luck.

With a heavy breath, she pushed his arm off her and watched as he groaned, and shifted his body so he laid on his stomach. She rolled her eyes and poked his cheek, but to no avail Robb was too deep in his sleep to be woken. Slowly, Hermione scooted herself off the bed, as to not wake her husband or the sleeping direwolf on the ground, and tip toed to the door taking Logan's sword and Katoptris on her way out.

Emersing herself in the darkness of Harrenhal, Hermione used the walls to feel her way through the ruins. As she traveled blind, like a piece of parchment unfolding in her mind, Hermione recalled the dozens of times she, Robb, Jon, and sometimes Theon would sneak through the Stark castle to play together. Blanketed by darkness, they had spent countless hours filling it with stories and laughter. A tiny smile appeared on Hermione's face as she came to a small hall just off the edge of the castle. The fire in the hearth was weak, but the blackened logs told the Camelotean that it had gone out many times before being brought back to life. Laying on the floor was a small, but familiar figure.

"Ahra!" Falling to her knees, Hermione pulled the Forest Child onto her lap. The Child's topaz eyes fluttered open, mouth slightly agape before the edges slightly curled into a smile.

"Hermione," she breathed. "I knew you'd be here."

Hermione's hand pressed against the Child's face ever so slightly and she felt as her fingertips hummed. She could feel Ahra's presence draining and wanted nothing more than to help her. Slowly, Hermione could feel a heavy exhaustion coating her muscles and seeping into her bones as she relinquished a bit of her own energy.

Once Hermione broke her hand free Ahra inhaled deeply, eyes wide and body erect as Hermione exhaled heavily. "You shouldn't have done that," the Forest Child said. "You need all the strength you can get."

Hermione smiles. "You were close to the edge," she said. "Trust me, you needed it more than I did."

The fire blinked and Hermione reached out her hand to embolden it, but no such thing came to fruition. Hermione could feel Ahra watching her intently as she took a moment and willed the fire, but when she opened her eyes it seemed to have faded more than before. "So it's effecting you too," Ahra mumbled to herself before watching Hermione again. "How long has this been happening? The waning of your gifts I mean?"

Hermione sighed and shrugged. "Since I woke up in the forest," she said. "Everything was fine, but as time went on it just started to go. I could barely even heal Robb the last time he was injured."

Ahra watched her quizzically, but didn't seem to press whatever had caused the expression. Instead, the Forest Child stood to her feet, her height the same as Hermione while seated, and said, "I was going to wait until daylight, but we must go now."

"Go where?"

"I'll explain everything as we leave Hermione," Ahra said, though Hermione moved not a muscle. "Trust me when I say this is life or death."

Swallowing, from the window in this hall Hermione could see the candle light burning in the chamber room she had left. Robb was probably still sound asleep in bed, Grey Wind settled on the floor. If she was gone long he would be worried and come looking for her. "Let me wake Robb."

"There's no time," Ahra insisted taking Hermione's hand and pulling her in the opposite direction. "Please."

Knowing the Forest Child wouldn't relent. Hermione stood to her feet and followed Ahra from Harrenhal's Hall and outside. As they walked through the dewy grass, Hermione turned back. Her breathing stalled for a moment as she saw Jaqen. Motionless and stoic, the man of many faces watched them descend into the forest and right before he became obscured by the trees Hermione would swear she witnessed him disappear in thin air.

The crunching of grass and snapping of twigs was all that filled the silence as the moon sank below the horizon giving in to the awakening of a new day. When Agra's words finally met Hermione's ears again she was almost startled. "Do you remember what I told you about the day that you were born?"

Hermione nodded. "I wasn't alive, but you and the other Forest Children brought me back to life."

Ahra shed Hermione a soft smile, not once meeting her gaze. "As Those Who Sing The Song of The Earth we're not supposed to get involved in the affairs of men, but your ancestor, Arthur—the first lord of Camelot—had always been a kind soul to us. He died trying to protect us from men and so we felt it was our duty to repay that debt with your life." Hermione listened intently, these were things nobody had ever told her before and curiosity had sank its claws into her. "The thing is, when humans are brought back to life they're never the same. You were but a babe and never lived prior to our hand in your fate. When we used the Weirwood's magic with ours to bring you back we connected you to it. Your gifts are a product of that."

"What's happening to them then?"

"The same thing that's happening to me and all of my people," she coughed. "There are dark forces lurking beyond the Wall for centuries and now they've woken."

"What do they want?"

Ahra sighed, her haunted eyes finding Hermione's face as she said. "They want to erase all of humanity."

Hermione could feel the weight of Ahra's words and knew this wasn't a game. Her words were sharpened and unyielding. "Why?"

"That is an even longer story," she said as they continued walking. "All I can tell you now is that the source of all magic in this world is under attack by white walkers and by the state of your gifts they've gotten farther than I hoped."

Suddenly, something went off in Hermione's mind and she froze in her tracks. "It was you." Ahra looked back at her. "You were leading me here. To ward off whatever was sapping our strength."

Ahra looked slightly guilty but exhaled and stood her ground nonetheless. "I believe you are the only one who can save us. There is a war coming and while this won't stop it, it will give us the strength we need to fight. My people are dying is large numbers Hermione. And believe it or not without magic in this world all hope will be lost."