Away with the Faeries

Chapter Thirty-one

 I lay sprawled out before the crackling hearth in a change of clothes my mother had packed for herself. Slacks weren't ideal but holy hell, did I miss pants. Twisting freely around on the floor a content sigh escaped my lips. I now understood why the movement of women in pants was so controversial, I felt free.

"You act as if gowns are terrible," my mother ticked from behind me. She sat curled in an old leather armchair, cradling a mug of hot tea close to her chest. 

"You're the one who packed the pants," I chided back, daring a glance towards her.

A hint of a smile graced her lips, hidden just as quickly as it had come behind her steaming mug of tea; "They are slacks," she admonished, "I'm no barbarian."

"Ah forgive me," I said throwing a glance down to the fancy dress pants I wore. They were about two sizes too small. But I still felt free. "At least these I can breathe in. There are no breathing or sudden movements in a dress."

My mother only shook her head, eyes light as she watched the fire twist within the hearth.

"And forget about trying to fight in one," I went on, feigning a parry from where I lay on the floor.

She turned to me then, brows furrowed; "Fight," she asked suddenly, "why would you ever need to fight?"

There was a note of something strange to her voice. Strained, cautious. I shrugged her question off; "I'm a fighter, not a lover," I teased, "If the world were ending the first thing I'd grab is my sword."

She became quiet for a moment; "Do you own a sword?"

It was then I realized it was fear I heard in her voice. I sat up, turning to face her. Truthfully I owned no sword of my own, but during my time in the Erde Palace, I had come to know the longsword Marcel had lent me as my own.

"No," I told her, "A friend had only been lending one to me." 

Her brows knotted further, " A friend," she questioned, "What is your friend's name?"

"Just a friend, some Faery— I don't know, it doesn't matter," I muttered in a jumble of words, as heat crept up my neck. Swallowing hard I turned my attention back on my mother, who stared blankly at me. Quickly I searched for a change in subjects; "You sure do ask a lot of questions for someone who refuses to answer any."

She closed her eyes a moment, "I know—."

"How— no— why are you here," I asked, "I won't go, if that's why you're here. I won't go back home. I can't, not yet. There's this war," my words began tumbling into the next as they each rushed from me in a hurried breath, "It's a genocide, really, hundreds of thousands of Fae are being killed. And not just Fae but others too. I can't just leave, not yet. I have to do something," I paused for breath, glancing at my mother to see her eyes rimmed silver, "I have to help."

A silent tear fell down her cheek as she studied me. "You are everything I wish I could've been," she whispered at last.

"What—," I began before she held up a hand, silencing me.

"Rayne," she said in a hushed voice, fingers tapping nervously at the mug she held, "This war is ancient, it predates even me. However, there were tales during the beginning times; tales about a Queen. One who would bring about the end of the war, we had little idea who. For a very long time, it was believed that I was that Queen. But centuries passed and the war waged still. I thought I had failed my people. Until you were born." She met my eye.

Me? Huh? What were we talking about again? "Me," I sputtered, mouth agape.

She spoke on, hand falling unconsciously to the gold cuff that sat always at the tip of her ear; "I've lied to you Rayne and for that, I can not apologize enough." Her eyes glossed over under the weight of the words, "I never wanted to watch you endure what I had," she continued, voice wavering, "I only ever wanted to protect you. That is why I left, I left for you. So you might be safe in a new world."

My lips floundered for words, questions spinning thickly around my head. Finally one seemed to find my lips, "France," I questioned, "how did leaving France give me a better life?"

Lightly she shook her head, "No," she clarified, "I left my kingdom for you, my people. I did not want you to bear the burden the prophecy bears. The same burden I bore for centuries when I was believed to be the true Queen."

I felt so stupid for not realizing it sooner. All the Anima acolytes address her as Your Majesty, her prim and proper attitude. Her knowledge of the war. My eyes widened as they roved over the small gold cuff she always bore as married Fae did. Or the fact that the current Queen of Erde looked like a clone of her.

I met her eyes, the words seeming to fall from my lips as if I had subconsciously known them all along; "You're Queen Briar, the Runaway Queen."

A sad smile met her lips, "Is that what they're calling me these days?"

I wasn't sure how to feel, I had just been handed the news that I was heir to a kingdom. A princess. Ew. Would that mean more dresses? God, I hoped not. I glanced at my mother. A runaway queen. Abandoning her people in times they needed her most; "How could you leave them."

A heavy sigh met her lips, "I left for you, " she repeated.

It didn't make sense. My head began to pound, nothing was adding up; "But you met Dad in France, not here."

A frown drew at her face, "I did meet him in France, but I was already pregnant with you when I left Erde. Your um—," she paused, meeting my eye. "Your real father and I fled to the Kingdom of Bana because at that time it was still neutral land. You were two when I took us to that other world."

"Other world?"

She shook her head again, "I don't know what it is, some say it is a future of sorts. One where Bloed wins the war, wiping out all races but its own. Others told me it was another world entirely. I'm sorry I don't have the answers you seek," she paused a moment before continuing, offering what little explanation she could, "After two years the war had reached us in Bana, the village we hid at was attacked. It was chaos." She looked skyward, eyes rimming red once more. "Your father and I became separated. I took you and ran with the rest of the villagers behind the Palace walls. It was our only sanctuary. For weeks on end, I begged the guards to take me to the Queen of Bana, trying to explain to them who I was. I told them that we were old friends and that I was the Queen of Erde.

"Of course, they didn't believe me. Until one day a young guard took pity on me and believed my words, that night he snuck us both into the Bana palace. Right to the Queen's chambers. She had been very sick ever since giving birth to her daughter. The moment she laid eyes upon me is a moment I'll never forget. I had never seen someone so angered and relieved at the same time." A soft smile planted itself on my mother's face, a sort of dreamy look to her eye as she recounted the story to me; "We spoke for hours, and after I asked her if she could send you and I someplace far away.

"She told me that it would be dangerous and had only been done once before. That's how we came to France."

My head spun again, words pounding at my head. My dad wasn't my dad. My mother was actually a queen. I wasn't really born in France. "Why," I said at last. "Why take us away? I could've lived here. Grown up here. Why take us away?"

"You were not safe here Rayne," she stressed, "Upon your birth the elders of Anima summoned me. After a good scolding about tainting such a pure bloodline, they told me of a prophecy that had been revealed to them." She looked to me, "A prophecy about you. They told me you were the only one who could end this war, but not without great cost."