Etherea: The Lost Daughter

22

Singed, bruised, exhausted; they staggered from the crumbling manor. Maeve did not look back as Uaine did. He had  hoped that one day he might retake his home; as he watched it crumble and fall, that hope was lost. Nia gripped his hand "we will take it back one day Uaine, I swear it" she told him, pulling his attention from the chaos behind them "we must go, before the guards regain enough sense to chase us" Maeve's words rushed together as she ran ahead of the group. She had scarcely known them, and was unwilling to be caught alongside them; however, Maeve was smart enough to stay close should she need them. 

The light of the burning manor quickly faded as they sprinted through the forest, ignoring the ache in their limbs and the burning of their lungs. Nia begged for guidance once more, as she had while they ran from the Faelcu in Avenere. White light lit the path before her, its suddenness almost blinded Uaine and Maeve "by the Fates what is that?" Maeve asked, Torrin and Rian shared a curious look; for they did not share the gift of half-sight which the Emerald twins had. "A path to safety" Uaine answered before Nia could. "You can see it too?" Nia questioned, she realised Uaine had left a great deal out about himself. 

"We are descendants of seers, while we do not share the gift of foresight; we do have a different sight. We can see what is hidden, what others cannot; but we cannot see the future. Watered down seers, if you will" Maeve explained, she found herself pitying the princess for enduring her brothers stupidity "that explains so much" Nia shook her head, exasperated by their continuous omissions. With no time to dwell on her thoughts, they took off running yet again. Nia led the way, Torrin at her side; sword in hand as footsteps began to sound from all directions. They trusted in the scarlet haired girl as she ducked and weaved through the woods, past the clearing in which they had argued and beyond the cave where they camped.

Torrin gulped as the river Nimae came into view. Legends of creatures travelling through its waters were known across Etherea. Nia still faced the issue that she could not swim. She reminded herself to learn, soon.  To her surprise, drowning seemed to be her most likely demise in this world. He looked at the panicked girl as his friends dove into the river, even the dog jumped without hesitation. Nia stared at the rushing water "I can't" her voice quivered. It reminded her so much of the river in her village. She remembered their cold and coarse hands on her as they carried her to the riverbank, as they bound her hands and feet. She could hear the rock they had tied to her waist crash into the water before it dragged her deep below, felt the ice water as it flooded her lungs.

Torrin had not seen such fear on Nia's face before, not for herself at least. It unnerved him, how her eyes seemed far away, remembering a painful point in her past; her hands clutched at her throat as her breathing quickened "what happened?" Torrin asked, half afraid of the answer. Nia glowered at the raging river "I was ten, and a terrible child" Torrin could believe that, if she is this wild and impulsive fully grown then she would have been unbearable as a child. "I got into just as much trouble as I could without losing my head. I did not know it then, but I had been a child for far too long; my soul was bored" Nia had come to understand it, that she had re-lived her childhood fifty times over; only the faces and names around her changed each time without her noticing. "I stole from a local seamstress, Breda wanted to lash me through the streets" Nia had loved that woman, despite her initial temper and her bastard grandson. 

Torrin watched the emotions battle on her face, love, pain, regret. "My mother convinced her to take me as her apprentice, knowing I would probably be caught again and lose a hand for it; Breda was a fierce woman, I missed a stitch once and she told me she would cut the hair from my head and I could use it as thread instead of wasting her fine silk" Nia had not fumbled with a needle ever again "but she was a wonderful woman, she taught me everything she knew" for Breda, Nia could never hold ill will "she had a grandson, a trite fellow; bitter that the world had not handed him a lordship like his uncle- he was a bastard you see, in all sense of the word" Torrin glowered at the darkness of her words, he knew it would only get worse as she spoke "it was one of the worst winters, not the very worst but close enough; Tristan caught the frost, a plague that riddled the village. The fever that followed almost killed him, we nursed him back to health for weeks; he was worst affected and he could not stand it. When his strength had recovered, he beat me senseless for being a witch. Tristan corralled his group of hooligans and bound my hands and feet, they tied a boulder to my waist and flung me in the river. My mother found me, and thus began my training with the dagger. Tristan always knew something was wrong with me".