Legacy (Daughter of War #2)

Chapter 11: The Foreigner

Music is The Last of Her Kind by Peter Gundry. Maya's theme, by the way, so play it!

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No. Your nerves are on edge. That's all, I tell myself.

Indeed, upon closer inspection, it's not a ghost who's beside Grand Seer Fabienne, but a girl. She wears a strange costume: a formless white dress reaching to her ankles, tattered and stained at the hem, along with a white cloth wrapped around her head. A handful of beads are slipped between her fingers, and she holds them to her breast, as though she intends to ward off something.

For a fleeting moment, I think it's me.

I catch myself. I've just met her. She wouldn't know who I truly am.

Would she?

"Grand Seer Fabienne." I force a smile in greeting. "I wasn't aware that we'd have company."

The girl's eyes gleam, shadowed by the white cloth around her head.

"She's not just company, my dear Constantine." My name sounds harsh on the Grand Seer's tongue, a scratch of nails against metal. "She's the one who will lead you to your destiny."

I narrow my eyes, attention flicking between the ominous duo in front of me. Their expressions are dead serious, illuminated silver under the moonlight. They look like they're not of this earth, mandates sent from the Seventh Heaven, here to bring judgment upon us all. I somehow maintain a neutral expression and manage a choked laughter. "What is this? More prophecies about the end of the world? I apologise, Grand Seer, but it's public knowledge that your clan isn't exactly known for its reliability regarding such information."

The Grand Seer's face darkens; the girl remains the same. Now that I see her more closely though, there's a confused light in her eyes. Interesting. 

"It's your clan as much as it is mine, daughter of Pst. Zorah," Grand Seer Fabienne replies coldly.

A harsh wind picks up, ruffling my hair and stinging my skin. The blood running through my veins remains calm. "I'm not a daughter of Pst. Zorah," I answer, tone clipped.

"You have Miraterciel," she accuses. "I can sense its presence."

An icy smile tinges my lips. "It's nice to know that you aren't a complete charlatan."

A snarl escapes her lips. Oh, I've riled her up now. I can't say what had driven me to speak those words. Just a second nature instinct, I suppose. But I rather enjoy gaining the upper hand on the Grand Seer, instead of the palpable fear quickening my heartbeat back in the mansion.

"If you're quite done irritating your elders, girl," snaps Grand Seer Fabienne, "you should know your purpose for coming here."

"You know, if you shout my secret out to the whole world, you might not have a saviour anymore," I drawl.

"Then don't make me shout." She bares her teeth at me, regaining her composure.

Two can play this game. "If you don't want me to irritate you any further, please state the purpose of this meeting." My eyes flick towards the girl, her white dress fluttering about her legs. Her eyes have glazed over. "And why she is here."

"The very reason why we're meeting is because of this girl." Grand Seer Fabienne gestures towards her, and she starts, gaze suddenly alert. "She has magic, and she can help you fulfil your destiny."

Now that surprises me.

"A witch, in other words?" It's hard to push the cynicism out of my voice. "Well well, nice to meet you."