Culann Scáthach du Faerzen
How long had passed since that day? Since that waking nightmare that she could scarcely bring herself to remember? As soon as word came of her country’s fall, she hastened back to the royal capital only to find it razed to the ground. Her brother, her sisters, and the parents who saw her off with a smile...all gone. A profusion of heads lining the city gate, all dreadfully familiar. The temptation to lose her mind, defeated only by desperately telling herself that she could not avenge her family if she broke. She had retained her sanity, but nothing else; nothing but the memories of happier days lingering in her breast.
My parents would weep to know that their daughter was consumed by vengeance. My brother and sisters would not wish to believe it.
But for those who were left behind, revenge was the only path to survival. Even if the rest would not approve. Even if they decried her for putting words in the mouths of the dead.
I have nothing. I can find no reason to live.
She pitched herself headlong into her struggle so she could pretend she wasn’t coming apart at the seams. She convinced herself that she could fight a great empire, let arrogance flood her chest. But it all fell apart when she met the crimson-haired girl and felt the compassion in her heart. When she looked into those scarlet eyes and saw her own younger sister staring back.
How ridiculous. They don’t look the slightest bit alike.
Even so, the sight had plucked at some string deep within her breast. Perhaps her defeat had been decided in that very moment. And eventually, defeat did come, to no great surprise. Yet after she had lost her purpose once more, the black-haired boy had offered her his hand. Not out of pity, she knew; it had been a calculating act through and through.
Still, it was pleasant to finally be relied upon.
Perhaps that was all she had wanted. Somebody to depend on. A situation in which she could be assured she was needed. And the crimson-haired girl’s—Liz’s—presence made it easy to agree.
That day changed everything. Her heart began to fill with joy, even as she cursed herself for her faithlessness.
“Scáthach? Are you all right?”
The voice jerked Scáthach back to reality. She looked up to see a crimson-haired girl standing over her, brushing back a stray strand of hair as she peered down into her face.
“Forgive me.” Scáthach gave a rueful smile. “Some less-than-pleasant dreams, nothing more.”
She cast a fresh glance around the room. The sharp scent of medicine pricked at her nose. A nearby set of shelves was lined with bottles. The injuries she had suffered in battle against Stovell had rendered her a resident of the infirmary for the time being; she had only regained consciousness the previous day, and if she tried to leave, she would be returned in short order.
“I see... Your wounds aren’t causing you pain, are they?”
“They have not for a while. My leg still feels a little strange, but that is all.”
“The doctor says you can return to your own chambers,” said a third, male voice. Scáthach looked up to see a boy dressed in black garb.
“Lord Hiro. You needn’t have troubled yourself...”
“You don’t really think I’m that cold, do you?” The boy’s brow furrowed in consternation.
Scáthach hurriedly dipped her head. “No, my lord. Not at all. Forgive me. I spoke without thinking.”
“Can you blame her for getting the wrong idea? You’re always scowling to yourself recently. You’ve gotten so unapproachable, it’s hard to even talk to you.” Liz pinched her own furrow between her eyebrows in a comical mimicry of Hiro’s frown.
“Do I look like that all the time?”
“You do. Aura says you’re just tired. You need to get some rest, is her suggestion. Why don’t you go to the rear gardens and sit in the sun for a while? Empty your mind? It’ll do you good.”
“That sounds delightful, but I don’t think I have the time. Maybe if I find a spare moment.”
“You’re impossible.” Liz glared at him, pouting.
Scáthach understood. She, too, had sensed something unstable about Hiro in recent days.
And that is a lonely thing. One that both causes him pain and brings sorrow to those he cares for.
Perhaps she had no right to speak on the matter, but that was her estimation. To live without the help of others was a hard and perilous road. She knew that as well as anyone. He was strong, of that there was no doubt, but he was still human, and humans needed a shoulder to lean on. She would provide it, if she could. When he seemed about to falter, she would extend a gentle hand. For that, at least, she was strong enough.
Until then, she would watch and wait. And on the day that Hiro achieved what he truly sought, she would wield her power in its fullest strength.
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