The Age of Supremacy: Part 4
A Novel of Vengeance, Betrayal and the Wyrd
By Tacita Shee-Slaugh

 

Chapter 10

----------

 

Miara and Llain were thrust unceremoniously from sleep by a piercing scream that echoed across the commune's aether. Snapping straight to attention, they both scrabbled about for clothes and armour and weapons. The sound continued, unrelenting in its painful resonance - it was so broken with despair and anguish that it was impossible to discern who it was, beyond that it was female. With the sound ringing in their ears the two of them rushed for the exit, Miara's twin rapiers drawn in her hands and Llain's cudgel clutched in hers.

 

'Oh gods,' said Llain as soon as they got into the forest, faster than Miara to pick out the scents around.  'Beria!'

 

Miara barely had a moment to glance across and see that her traps had been undisturbed before Llain's exclamation. 'What?' she hissed, gripping so tightly on the hilts of her swords that her skin went white under her gauntlets.

 

'No, no,' spluttered Llain in a panic, waving her arms about. 'Beria's alive. It's her screaming. It's Beria screaming.'

 

Cerulean eyes widening, realisation hit Miara like an arctic wind. 'Helegena,' she whispered brokenly, Llain's expression shifting to match her own as they looked into one another's faces.

 

'The swamp. They're in the swamps.'

 

Not waiting for her wife to move with her, Miara turned on her heel and rushed to the west so fast that Llain could barely follow, her feet landing heavily on the forest floor. So frantic was her sprinting that her armour made a clanking noise, the plates grinding against one another as she sped through the tunnels towards the western side of the forest. When they came up out and into the fresh air, the forest was lit by thin trickles of moonlight, creeping through the eaves and offering little sight. Sniffing out, Miara could scent that Lalvani, Daindam and Dakuni were all there in the middle of the swamp already - with Beria, and what smelt suspiciously like an aslari corpse.

 

The last few yards of the forest fell away beneath Miara and Llain's feet and they rushed into the gathered crowd just as Beria's screams ebbed away into fading echoes. She was collapsed on the ground in front of Helegena's corpse, and it looked as if Lalvani An'Ryshe had just knelt down beside the distraught faeling and managed to take her attention away just briefly from the scene, by placing her hands on the druidess's shoulders.

 

Dakuni glanced up at Miara and Llain as they entered and made his way quickly over to them, a concerned expression on his face. 'Wuttif is dead too,' he said in a soft voice so that Beria would not hear. 'Haloia is with him, on the other side of the forest. It looks like he'd gone out just before dusk - he was stabbed.'

 

With a glance over at Helegena's body, Miara forced herself to ask the question that she did not want to. 'Tokens?'

 

'Neither of them, that we can see,' he replied in the same quiet voice. 'It's hard to tell, with Helegena. I've been here longest, but Beria hasn't been responding to me - Lalvani's only just managed to.'

 

'Alright,' said Miara gently, letting her grip relax slightly. Daindam came over to join them, his face the same concerned expression that they all mirrored. 'I know this is horrible,' she continued with a glance over at Beria, 'but we need to know who she investigated. I couldn't find anything - which means Beria is the only person that possibly could have any information at all.'

 

'She'll be of no use to anyone when she's like this,' cautioned Daindam, shaking his head. 'We can't rush her, not when it's this sensitive. Let her get this out of her system; then we'll try.'

 

Miara itched to know whether or not Vuuak was innocent, but she couldn't fault Daindam's logic. Sighing, she sheathed her swords and nodded to Llain. 'Go on,' she said. 'She'll listen to you.'

 

Needing no more encouragement than that, Llain span with a powerful beat of her wings and landed next to her cousin, reaching over to take the much smaller faeling's hands in hers. With Beria quieted, a hushed conversation began between her, Llain and Lalvani - Miara did not attempt to listen in, knowing that it was worth taking the time to ensure that Beria was well enough to function. It took some time, but eventually Beria's shakes abated - and though she still clung to Llain's hands tightly for support, the miniature druidess finally raised her eyes to Miara's.

 

/Keeper/, she said softly, her voice much steadier mentally than physically. /I saw his heart./

 

The very fact that Beria did not tell her immediately that he was innocent was all she needed to know the truth. Her chest seared with a burning pain, and she clutched at the hilts of her swords to steady herself. /Tell me/, she urged towards Beria, staring at the druidess as if she might bore holes into the faeling's mind with her cerulean eyes. /I need to hear you say it./

 

/Vuuak is an assassin/, Beria replied simply, her watery gaze full of regret. /In his heart he is not loyal to the Glomdoring, but to the cult's own agenda. He is a murderer./

 

Miara let the words settle in to her mind and body, echoing about in the recesses of her heart as if they were clamouring at the walls to try and escape - lest they settle and become truisms. No part of her wanted to believe it, but all of it did; her trust in Beria too complete to be shattered even by this. Stepping away from  the scene around Helegena's body, Miara turned to the edge of the forest and rested her hand on the bark of the tree next to her.

 

Vuuak, her greatest inspiration, was an assassin.

 

Vuuak was an assassin.

 

Vuuak was a traitor to everything he claimed to believe in.

 

No matter how many times she repeated it, over and over, she still couldn't affix it into her mind. The very notion shattered everything that had been her perception of her mentor, of the Ebonguard itself. Lessons and teachings that Vuuak had given her suddenly rang false, yet even so she knew that not all of it could possibly have been an act. He had loved Grayley, that she believed - stood by her even despite all that she did. She even believed that he had followed the Wyrd too, once upon a time. What hurt more than anything was not the fact that he betrayed, but the fact that he betrayed something he really had once been a part of. 

 

It would have been easier, she thought to herself, if he had never been anything to them at all - but that was not the truth. It could never be the truth. She thought of how Vuuak had taught her always to admit her emotions, to embrace them, lest she fall to emptiness - lest she forget the depth of her faith and belief in the Wyrd and all that she was loyal to. It seemed so strange to cling onto now, now that the betrayal and anger in her heart was rattling around like a caged bird. Now that he was tearing apart everything that she could possibly hold onto as a memory of him - as proof that there as something worth anything in him.

 

'Miara?' came a voice at the edge of her consciousness, barely brushing against the tumult in her mind. Focusing on it, she recognised the voice as Dakuni's. 'What is it?'

 

She turned to him with blank eyes, unable to do anything but tell the truth. 'Beria investigated Vuuak,' she said simply, her voice devoid of all inflection. 'He's an assassin.'

 

A myriad of emotions spread across the trill's face, and he stilled for a brief moment before transforming into a flurry of movement. Leaping forward, he clutched at Miara's arm, shaking her almost desperately. 'No!' he hissed in a voice almost loud enough to draw attention. Catching himself, he dropped his voice to a low whisper and tightened his grip, pressing his thumb into the crook of her elbow. 'She must be mistaken. Vuuak would never -'

 

'He did,' stated Miara frankly, before sighing. Placing her hand over Dakuni's, she repeated in a softer voice (the barest hint of pain creeping into her tone), 'I believe her. I know it's - if you think I don't - damnit, Vuuak taught me everything, Dakuni. Everything. And he's one of them. He's killed people, or at the very least helped to do so.'

 

'Does anyone else know?'

 

Miara shook her head. 'Beria told me, just now. You're the first person I've told. It might be - the last thing Beria manages to find out.'

 

Frowning, Dakuni asked, 'Why?'

 

Her eyes flickering over to Helegana's body, Miara gestured vaguely in that direction. 'Helegena has been protecting us,' she explained quietly. 'Me and Beria both. She's been keeping us from the assasssins' touch. Remember the day that no one died to smothering? Helegena told me just before that, that someone would always be watching out for me.' 

 

'You think she saved you?'

 

'I know she saved me,' said Miara, admitting it aloud and to herself for the first time. 'I can just...I know. She's been looking after Beria since the girl revealed what she could do. I've been half expecting to be killed myself.'

 

Dakuni's nose creased up in a grimace. 'I'd rather you didn't,' he said in an impressively deadpan voice given the situation.

 

'I don't plan to,' replied Miara smoothly, sighing again and putting pressure on his hand with hers before moving away. 'But that's what this means. Beria and I are likely to die, and when we do, there is no way to find out who the assassins are save for waiting for them to come for you.'

 

This knowledge washed over Dakuni at first, but Miara could see as it finally began to sink in. His face thinned, plumage flattened and his hands shook at his sides. 'We would be entirely at their mercy,' he said. 'No, this cannot happen. Nothing Matters but Glomdoring.'

 

Almost frowning at the sudden desperation in his voice as he intoned the familiar greeting, Miara collected herself and nodded in agreement. 'Glory will come to Glomdoring,' she paraphrased, 'but only if we make it.' With a small smile that was really more of a grimace, she added, 'Whatever that may take.'

 

Dakuni's eyes gleamed at that, and Miara felt for him and his inability to really do anything to secure the Glomdoring's future. 'Whatever it takes,' he repeated in a devout tone, nodding again.

 

'But we do need to tell the Regent about this now,' continued Miara with a sigh. 'I keep having to deliver bad news to her, but Beria is in no state to.'

 

'Beria may want to do it herself,' countered Dakuni, glancing back over towards the druidess, who was now standing. 'May need to, even. You should ask her first.'

 

Considering his words for a moment, Miara had to admit that Dakuni was probably right. 'Okay,' she agreed, turning to move back towards the body once she too had seen that Beria was a little more composed. 'I would do,' she thought aloud, 'if it was me.'

 

Nodding, Dakuni fell into step alongside her as they made their way back to the others. Llain glanced up as they approached, her eyes a little watery - Miara had almost forgotten, in the rush to help Beria, that there were two druidesses here who had lost an aunt - and full of concern. Lalvani and Daindam were flanking Beria whilst Llain stood opposite, still holding her cousin gently by the hands, though it seemed this was no longer for physical support as it was previously.

 

Miara locked eyes with Beria and tilted her head slightly. 'Someone needs to tell the Regent,' she said in as gentle a voice as she could muster, though it came out much more weakly than she would have liked. 'About what you know.'

 

Though she paled slightly, Beria glanced over at her aunt's body and nodded emphatically. 'Yes,' she replied in a soft voice. 'Yes, he needs to pay for what he's done.'

 

'I can tell her, if you want me to,' offered Miara, wanting Beria to know that the option was there.

 

'Thank you,' Beria said, her gratitude clearly genuine. 'But I need to do this myself.'

 

/Told you so/, said Dakuni, his slightly teasing tone helping to calm Miara's churning stomach somewhat.

 

'People may not be inclined to believe you, you know,' she cautioned as the thought occurred to her for the first time. 'You've been right every time, I know - but this is a heavy accusation to make.'

 

Beria simply smiled, letting go of Llain's hands to take Miara's in her own. Her skin was still cold with shock. 'You believed me,' she pointed out sadly. 'If I can convince you, then the others should not be so difficult.'

 

'Pardon me,' murmured Lalvani, not seeming terribly sheepish at the interruption. 'But what are you talking about?'

 

'Beria discovered the identity of one of the assassins yesterday,' explained Miara, gripping her cousin-in-law's hands slightly in encouraging support. 'We are going to tell the Regent the killer's identity.'

 

Lalvani's eyes lit up as she glanced between Miara and Beria. 'Oh!' she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. 'But that's good! Isn't that good?'

 

'I suppose it is,' replied Miara hesitantly.

 

'Oh,' faltered Lalvani, her excitement dimming somewhat at Miara's reaction. 'It's - who is it?'

 

'We should save that for the Regent,' interjected Dakuni, 'There is no need to put the Druidess through having to explain the identity of a traitor more than once.'

 

Chastened, Lalvani nodded. 'Of course,' she said, her voice returning to its usual softness. 'She's with Wuttif, I think.'

 

Nodding, they all glanced towards Helegena in unison. 'Someone should stay with her,' said Beria, her voice cracking again slightly.

 

'I'll do it,' offered Llain, sparing her cousin a glance. 'I don't want to leave her alone. And it should - her family should be watching over her.'

 

Miara gave Llain a concerned glance; her wife seemed to be a shadow of her usual self, worsening over time as if the realisation of what had happened was finally sinking in. There was little she could do, however - and when Llain's red eyes met hers, she felt a little more confident that there was still strength in her wife's heart.

 

/It's Vuuak, isn't it?/ came Llain's voice gently into her mind.

 

Miara tensed, but nodded. /Yes. How did you.../

 

/You wouldn't look like that for anyone else/, Llain explained - and Miara had to concede that she was probably right. /I'll be fine here. Please look after Beria./

 

/Always./

 

Chapter 10, Continued

---------------------

 

Turning, Miara began to lead the procession of herself, Beria, Dakuni, Lalvani and Daindam towards the eastern side of the forest where she could smell Haloia and a large amount of blood. It seemed an odd place in the middle of nowhere for them to be, but Miara assumed it was Wuttif's nest - though the Blacktalon had urged people not to sleep alone in their much more unguarded nests, it would seem that some had not listened. Miara hoped it was not out of a devotion to guarding the forest that Wuttif had stayed there, and been slain - the forest was more than capable of guarding itself, and when the attacks were coming from inside, the external threats were the least of their worries.

 

Still, the assassins had seemingly been able to attack and succeed regardless of where the person was. Since there were so many of them they were likely able to let one another in and out of places, to work together to achieve their twisted goals. Miara hoped there would be no more of them left after Vuuak - with so few of them left, the idea of having a majority of enemies in the commune concerned her greatly.

 

They made it across the forest quickly and without encountering anyone else along the way. The same tense silence was hanging over the forest, even the thornbeasts quelled into inaction by the ill feeling in the air. Haloia was sitting pensively on a ridge alongside Wuttif's corpse, which was bathed in a sea of his own blood. She glanced up as Miara and her entourage entered, raising one eyebrow in question.

 

'Helegena Stormcrow is dead,' stated Miara, getting straight to business. The Regent did not look in the mood for being lead around a merry discussion, and Miara herself did not feel like it either. 'She has been protecting Beria and I from assassins for some time. I believe she's saved my life at least once, possibly Beria's too. We are without that protection now.'

 

Nodding, Haloia grimaced. 'Damnit,' she cursed, jabbing the nekai she was leaning on further into the dirt. 'We're running out of time, then.'

 

'There's more,' interjected Miara before Haloia could continue, and she stepped aside to allow Beria through.

 

The diminutive druidess hovered forward in front of the Regent, glancing over at Wuttif's body with a small frown. 'I found another assassin,' she said softly, clasping her hands together in front of her. Miara was struck with the desire to walk forward and place a hand on her shoulder, but thought better of it. Beria could do this on her own strength; she did not need to borrow it from others.

 

'Yes?' asked Haloia, rubbing tiredly at her face.

 

'The Chieftain, Vuuak Ysav'rai, is guilty of being a traitor,' announced Beria, to a chorus of sharp inhalation. 'Even if he hasn't delivered any of the deaths himself, he is...definitely not loyal to the Glomdoring.'

 

Haloia lifted her head and stared through Beria as if there was some sort of jest occurring at her own expense. Seemingly not finding whatever she was looking for there, she turned her amber gaze upon Miara, who inclined her head in both agreement with Beria and shame on behalf of the Ebonguard.

 

'Only those of us who are here, who have heard Beria's statement, know about this,' added Miara into the tense silence, knowing that Haloia needed as much information as possible to process this fully. 'I've not seen or spoken to Vuuak this evening.'

 

'He's in the Court,' responded Haloia gruffly, clapping her palms down on her nekai and pushing them further into the ground. 'He was going to gather everyone there once we'd found and dealt with the bodies.'

 

'I want to talk to him first,' said Miara quietly, realising for the first time that it was something she needed to do. 'I need him to...confess. It doesn't make it better. But I need him to look me in the eye and tell me what he did.'

 

Regarding Miara intently for a moment, Haloia considered this. 'You have one hour,' she said stiffly, glancing over at Wuttif's body. 'We'll deal with the burials whilst you're with him.' Reaching into her pouch she took out a small keyring, and pulled from it a thick iron key. 'Take this. Vuuak doesn't have one, and there's a monolith. You should be able to force him to talk to you, if nothing else.'

 

With a grateful look, Miara wrapped her fingers around the cold iron key and nodded. 'Thank you, Regent.' Turning to Beria, she asked gently, 'You'll be alright? I promised Llain I'd keep an eye on you.'

 

'This is more important,' replied Beria, reaching up to pat Miara on the arm. 'I'll go back to Llain and help her with auntie's body. We'll be fine.'

 

Needing no more permission, Miara sliced her fingerblade across her wrist and ascended into the realm of shadows, inhaling deeply to compose herself before she descended past the nexus and into the tunnels. She stood at the entrance to the Shadow Court with the key hanging limply in her hands for some moments before she entered, still not quite believing that it had come to this.

 

Vuuak glanced up as she entered from where he had been pacing back and forth in front of the statue, a look of confusion flashing across his face when Miara closed the door behind her and locked it, tucking the key securely into her belt.

 

'Keeper?' he asked, and Miara had no idea how he managed to look quite so normal. She certainly felt anything but, standing in the same room as him.

 

With a feigned sigh, she rubbed tiredly at her face as if she could wipe away her true feelings into the mask she wanted to create. 'Helegena's dead,' she said, glancing up to lock eyes with him. As she had expected, Vuuak stumbled slightly before his face twisted into an expression of horror.

 

'Anyone else?' he asked, stepping closer to her.

 

'Wuttif,' replied Miara, leaning back against the locked door in as casual a manner as she could muster. It clearly passed judgement, because Vuuak continued to look at her with a mixture of concern and shock. 'He had no tokens on him.'

 

'What about Helegena?'

 

She had to hand it to him - the Chieftain was excellent at playing people, when he put his mind to it. If only his every expression wasn't hypocritical, she might have commended him on it slightly. The suggestion that Helegena could possibly have been an assassin, even though she knew the question itself was an act, riled her up however. 'Helegena has been protecting Beria and I for days,' she spat, shaking her head violently. 'Saving us from the murderers running rampant round the forest. She was loyal to the Glomdoring.'

 

Vuuak's eyes glinted with success for the smallest of moments before he twisted his features into an apologetic expression. Miara couldn't help but wonder if he had always been this obvious, and she had always been blind - or if he was faltering somewhat. 'I didn't know,' he said simply. 'How is Llain?'

 

Miara did her best not to bristle at the sound of her wife's name coming from Vuuak's traitorous lips. 'As you would expect, given that her aunt was just murdered,' she retorted bitterly, before making a show of catching herself and sighing again - as if the bitterness was not directed at him, but at the situation in general. 'She's angry, probably mostly at not knowing who did it.'

 

The Chieftain's response was telling, then - he glanced away, shielding his face and his expression from Miara's gaze. Sensing that she had him on the back foot, she pressed on with her interrogation.

 

'We're running out of time,' she announced tiredly. 'There's still one of them out there, and now Beria and I are going to be killed - leaving no one able to find out who is doing this. They will win, if we're not exceptionally lucky.'

 

The curiosity that sparkled in Vuuak's eyes as Miara revealed this to him couldn't be disguised as he glanced back over at her. She saw a hint of the remaining smirk that had been on his face when he had turned away, but it was quickly gone. 'No one? Has it really come to this?'

 

Miara nodded simply. 'Kwaray had a chance at working it out, but she's dead. It really is just Beria and I, now - and neither of us have kept our skills secret. The blessings of Crow and Night upon us would be useless if we did not reveal the knowledge they have gained us.'

 

'You didn't find anything yesterday, then?' asked Vuuak, schooling his face back into a neutral expression. Miara wanted to punch him.

 

Instead she shook her head, and shrugged helplessly. 'I set traps outside Sanshaj's. Honestly, at this point I'm flipping coins to work out who could be targeted. Or I was, until Helegena died. Now I suppose I'll have to put them round Beria's nest and hope they go for her, not me. Or that they go for me, and she spots them.'

 

It was as if Miara could hear the very cogs churning in Vuuak's mind as he began to process all this information. He likely could not believe his luck, she mused, that the information about the commune's plans were being handed to him on so well presented a platter - and this was probably not the first time it had happened. He had been so helpful, so involved in all of their plans previously. How much of that had he relayed to the other assassins, and used against them?

 

'And Beria?'

 

'We haven't managed to find out from her yet if she spotted anyone,' said Miara with a sigh. She couldn't risk giving another person's name, claiming that they were innocent - and being caught in a lie when they turned out to be guilty. 'You heard her screaming. It took both Llain and Lalvani to calm her down.'

 

This made Vuuak tense visibly, and Miara couldn't help but take delight in making him squirm at the knowledge that it was still possible that he'd been found out. 'Where is she now? I know she is...fragile, but this is something we need to know,' he urged, the smallest amount of nerves creeping into his voice.

 

'With Llain still,' replied Miara truthfully, 'dealing with Helegena's body. Haloia hopes that once they've done that, she'll be more willing to talk.' Vuuak nodded, and Miara took the opportunity to unbalance him once more. 'Do you have any idea? I mean, if you were going to suspect someone - there's only so many of us left alive, now. Who would it be?'

 

Vuuak made a show of considering this carefully, and Miara wondered if it were that much of a show, or he was using the time to work out what answer a loyal person would give. Likely a little of both, she thought with disgust. 'Honestly, I had begun to suspect Wuttif,' he said helplessly, and Miara spotted the tangent for the obvious one it was. 'A lot of use that does us now, though.'

 

'I'd wondered about him too,' she said, and it was not entirely a lie. She had wondered about most people, it seemed, except for the one who was actually guilty of it. 'Or maybe Sanshaj, though given how distraught he was when Ilatrea died - it seemed so genuine.'

 

'But Ilatrea was stabbed,' pointed out Vuuak, leaping on the suggestion. 'Sanshaj could be one of the smothering killers.'

 

The very fact that Vuuak was pushing it quite so strongly did nothing but convince Miara that Sanshaj was innocent. It left some worrying questions about the others, but she couldn't bring herself to think of that at this point. She was locked in a room with an assassin, voluntarily, and she needed him to confess.

 

'It's possible,' she conceded aloud, sighing. 'But at this point we know so little, beyond the fact that there are two people still running around and killing.'

 

With hesitancy, Vuuak said, 'Perhaps...we need to start considering even the people that we think are loyal could not be. How many has Beria vouched for? Only the Regent and Dakuni, if I remember correctly - which means that any of the rest of us could be guilty. Even those to whom we are close.'

 

Miara met his gaze levelly, staring into them as if to try and comprehend the brazenness with which he made the suggestion. 'And whom should I turn my gaze upon?' she asked in a voice thick with ice. 'Lalvani? Daindam? My wife?' She paused to step forward, letting her arms fall to her side as she whispered, 'Should I be asking you where you were, Chieftain?'

 

In a movement quite unlike him, Vuuak shuffled nervously on the spot, his hands ghosting towards his weapon. 'Keeper,' he said in a sad tone, though his voice shook slightly, 'this is exactly what they want us to be doing. To be accusing one another -'

 

'But it was your suggestion!' she hissed, interrupting him with a finger jabbed into his chest, her gauntlets clinking against his armour. 'If it's exactly what they want us to be doing, Vuuak, then perhaps you should think twice about doing it yourself!'

 

The Chieftain stumbled, and Miara took the opportunity to pounce, drawing her rapiers from their sheathes and feinting an attack on his left side. He moved to parry it, placing himself offbalance enough for Miara to get the point of her free rapier against the hollow of his neck.

 

'Keeper...' he said in a dangerously low voice, gravel creeping into his tone.

 

'Convince me, Vuuak!' she yelled, all finesse gone from her demeanour. 'Convince me that you didn't do it. That you haven't been working with Eliaei, and Taerrick, and Tabmili, and all of the other traitors. Make me believe that I shouldn't run you through right here, right now.'

 

With a growl, Vuuak dropped into a defensive stance and brushed her rapiers aside, ducking nimbly away from the point at his neck - taking advantage of the fact that Miara did not want to nick the artery there, not just yet.

 

'I am the Chieftain of the Ravenwood!' he exclaimed, parrying her ensuing assault with ease. 'How dare you accuse me of this?'

 

'The Vuuak I know would never fall back on titles,' Miara hissed coldly, managing to scrape a deep gash across the exposed part of his arm where his bracers ended. 'He would be able to stand here before me and say that Nothing Matters but Glomdoring, and I would believe him.'

 

In an angry flourish of his weapon, the Chieftain insisted, 'I am still the Vuuak you know!'

 

'You are NOT!' shouted Miara, finally pressing the assault back until he was pinned against the wall, one rapier straight across his neck and the other jabbed into his leg, preventing him from moving. His blood gushed out over her hand and she felt the exaltation of vengeance. 'Else you would be able to make the oath. Make it, Vuuak. I dare you.'

 

Something shifted in Vuuak then, and Miara sensed that she had won. 'You are weak,' he said in a voice dripping with disdain, his chest still heaving as he gasped for breath. 'And you have always been weak. This forest is not merciless! There has been mercy creeping in here for centuries. All this nonsense about unity. There is nothing but duty, duty and penance, strife and effort. This forest is lazy, and it is weak.'

 

'And you are a traitor,' replied Miara simply, stepping away and sheathing her blades. Blood had splattered across her armour, and she glanced down at it with disgust. 'I had hoped,' she said simply, 'that Beria was wrong.' As realisation dawned on Vuuak's face, she turned back to him and smiled broadly, the clamour in her heart finally breaking free and devouring her with pain. 'It's time for you to go to Brother Crow, Chieftain,' she said in a voice heaped with sarcasm.

 

With that, she turned on her heel and unlocked the door, making her way towards the Master Ravenwood.

 

Chapter 10, Continued

---------------------

 

The rest of the commune were waiting there for Miara when she arrived, Vuuak tailing behind her with the dazed expression of one marching to his death.

 

'Well?' asked Haloia with raised eyebrows, glancing between Miara and Vuuak.

 

With the same smile she had given Vuuak, Miara turned to the commune and announced, 'This traitor has confessed to his sins. He has been found to be guilty in the eyes of Brother Crow as they were gifted to Beria Stormcrow - and he has stood before me and claimed that there is mercy rife in the Glomdoring forest. He has forsaken the notion that Nothing Matters but Glomdoring. He deserves nothing but death.'

 

Unlike every previous time, there was no exultant clamour of voices. Instead, one by one, the commune raised their hands and pointed at Vuuak. Haloia went first, then Beria - Llain, Dakuni, Lalvani and Daindam quickly followed, as did Sanshaj as he slowly processed what had just been said. Finally, Miara rounded on her mentor and raised her hand, bloody with his life essence, and pointed her rapier at his throat.

 

'Crow,' she whispered, 'Glorious Crow.'

 

The Chieftain's screams resounded throughout the Basin as he was devoured by the Great Spirit that he had claimed to believe in, his blood raining down upon the Ravenwood to feed its glory. A single, glistening gem tumbled to the ground as he was devoured, confirming his guilt.

 

After watching Vuuak meet justice at the hands of the Great Spirit Crow, Miara rushed away from the Ravenwood - unable to look on any of the other people there. Vuuak's words, though traitorous, were still ringing in her mind. Any of the rest of them could be guilty - and she could no longer avoid the possibility that even those she trusted were responsible for the stabbings. But her mind was in too much of a whirl, and her heart too constricted by pain, for her to think of anything objectively.

 

Instead she made her way to Beria's nest and began setting up the traps there, raking out soil until it was ready to receive footprints and stringing other alarms from tree to tree. There was little she could do if the killers came for her - but it seemed unlikely to Miara that they would go for anyone other than herself or Beria, therefore there was nothing else to do but watch over her cousin-in-law and hope that Mother Night smiled upon them.

 

Thinking of the Great Spirit reminded Miara of the prophecy, which so many had forgotten about with all that had happened - or if not forgotten, they had not been referring to it quite as much. One part concerned her the most, for it had not yet come to pass - the idea that only the pure of soul would survive and triumph. Frowning, she replayed Mother Night's words in her head as she worked.

 

'Death do I see! Wanton and murderous, the slaying of brethren and family, allies and communemates. Breath snuffed out and skulls crushed, a war within the forest. Not all that is devoted is innocent; not all that is loyal is without betrayal. Only the pure of heart will triumph for the Glomdoring. Only the pure of soul will survive.'

 

As she laced the final strings for her traps, Miara sat back on her haunches and frowned. Not all that is devoted is innocent, she thought to herself - what did that mean? That the assassins were as devout to their cause as they were to the Wyrd? That was clear enough, and she did not think it like Mother Night to say something quite so obvious. No, there was definitely another hidden message in Her prophecy - one that Miara couldn't puzzle out yet.

 

All the thinking made her head start to hurt again, and the dull ache of betrayal in her heart returned for a moment. Brushing it aside, she made her way back to the Ravenwood, where a few people were still gathered. A gentle hand placed on her shoulder startled her, and she turned to see Sanshaj giving her a look of sympathy. Pushing his arm away with a cold look - she didn't want to look weak in front of the others, not now - Miara turned and pushed through to the tunnels, feeling a flutter at her side as Llain trailed after her.

 

'Are you...' her wife began hesitantly, flitting slightly ahead to get Miara's attention. 

 

Away from the onlookers, Miara let her face soften from the blank hardness into the tired, broken way that she truly felt. Llain's eyes widened in understanding and she stepped into Miara's arms, which were hanging listlessly at her sides. The two of them stood there in silent solidarity for a moment, before Llain tugged gently on her hands and dragged her towards the manse.

 

'Did you get things set for today?' asked Llain gently as she pulled Miara through the portals.

 

Suddenly feeling very drowsy, Miara nodded sleepily, reaching to pull at her armour. 'Set them up outside Beria's,' she murmured. 'Seemed most obvious. Not much else I can do.'

 

'They won't kill you,' replied Llain in a frank, simple tone, brushing her hand over Miara's forehead. 'I'm certain of it.'

 

The impossibility of the statement failed to sink in for Miara, as she collapsed - exhausted - into their bed.

 

Chapter 11

----------

 

When Miara awoke the next day, Llain's arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, as if trying to keep her from escaping into the outside world. Twisting slightly, she pressed her lips against her wife's to wake her.

 

'Evening, sleepyhead,' murmured Llain, her red eyes flicking open - she had clearly not been asleep at all. 'Better now?'

 

'As much as I can be,' replied Miara, stretching her limbs out. She paused halfway, realisation dawning as she woke up more fully. 'I'm still alive,' she stated dumbly, sitting bolt upright in bed. 'Beria.'

 

Llain leapt to her feet and began tossing Miara bits of armour as well as pulling on her own robes. The two of them were dressed, out of the manse and hurling towards Beria's nest within minutes. Sniffing out, Miara could smell at least one stabbing - the coppery scent of blood hung heavy in the air from somewhere to the northeast - but they were running too fast for her to pay attention beyond that. Rounding the corner to the small grove of trees where Beria made her nest, both Wyrmglows skidded to a standstill when they saw the figure there.

 

'Miara!'

 

The Keeper froze, staring into Beria's very shocked - and very much alive - face. 'You're - Gods. How?'

 

'They didn't - not you either? Oh, Miara! I found one. We need to tell the Regent, we need to -'

 

/The Regent is dead/, came Daindam's voice over the commune aether, stilling all three women and silencing Beria mid-sentence. /Here, in the Court. She's been smothered./

 

The druidess's face darkened and she glanced off to the northwest. 'Jemdir did it,' she said in a voice tinged with uncharacteristic venom. 'I wasn't sure who to investigate so I picked at random. It was him.'

 

Nodding, Miara beckoned to Beria and waited for her to fall into step beside her before slashing at her wrist with her fingerblade and heading down into the tunnels. Haloia's body was lying peacefully in the middle of the Shadow Court's floor, the tranquil expression on her face entirely at odds with the situation. Daindam and Lalvani were the only people there when they arrived, but Miara could smell more people heading over.

 

'Beria!' exclaimed Lalvani in shock, when the three of them entered. 'But we thought you would be -'

 

'So did I,' replied Beria, walking over to take Lalvani's hands in her own and squeeze them. 'But no one tried to - at least I assume no one - and Miara's alive too. I'm not quite sure how.'

 

/I assume they figured that I would be looking out for you/, Miara told Beria. /Which is why they didn't go for you. I've no idea how I am alive, on that basis. I had hoped that my watching you would mean they went for me, and buy you time./

 

Beria shot her a stern glance reminiscent of Helegena. /Well that isn't necessary now, is it. I've found who it is, and neither of us are dead./

 

The brief celebrations regarding their being alive over, the gathered turned their attention to Haloia's body. At that moment, Dakuni and Jemdir arrived, glancing down at the body in shock - a shock that Miara knew, in Jemdir's case, to be entirely false.

 

'Where's Sanshaj?' asked Daindam, frowning slightly.

 

The commune looked around at themselves, and everyone let out a collective rush of breath. 'There's a large amount of blood over by the stage,' murmured Lalvani softly, wrapping her arms around herself. 'I suppose that...would be him.'

 

'Would someone go and check, please?' asked Miara, becoming suddenly aware that there was no real leader left amongst them. Somehow she didn't think there would be any appointment of a new Regent this time - with so few of them left, it hardly seemed necessary.

 

Dakuni nodded his head at her. 'I will,' he said, and left quietly to the south.

 

'I don't understand,' said Daindam, turning to look at Beria and Miara. 'How could they have let the two of you live? I mean...' Pausing, he added a bit sheepishly, 'Sorry, that sounds awful. I hope you understand my meaning, though. You are our only hope - I would have thought they would want to remove that.'

 

At the point of brazenness, now that so many were dead, Miara turned to Jemdir and raised an eyebrow. 'I don't know, why don't we ask them? Lord Nightshade, what precisely went through your mind when you selected who to kill yesterday?'

 

A mixture of expressions flooded across Jemdir's face, and he finally settled on anger - though he made brief forays into panic and terror. 'I beg your pardon?' he demanded in an outraged tone.

 

Her confidence blooming at Miara's words, Beria stepped alongside her cousin-in-law and cocked her head at what looked like an awkward angle. 'Oh, you probably should,' she said in an eerily cheery voice. 'Beg our pardons, I mean. You won't get them of course, you've just murdered our Regent and probably been involved in the deaths of several other people too.' As Jemdir attempted to splutter a protest, Beria smiled and continued, 'Oh, I wouldn't bother trying to defend yourself. I'm quite certain, you see. And I think we've established by now that what I see is quite true.' Pausing, she concluded, 'I thought better of you, Lord Nightshade.' 

 

Miara's chest swelled slightly with pride as she stood alongside the druidess, who though diminutive in form was certainly blossoming in the adversity the situation presented. Around them, people slowly began to shoot glares at Jemdir as they realised precisely what was going on.

 

'We'll feed him to Brother Crow,' snarled Llain, glancing over at Haloia's body. 'The sooner the better.'

 

Lalvani shook her head slightly. 'No,' she said in a soft voice. 'I think we ought to see how much we can find out first. Obviously he deserves a very messy death, but we don't want to be entirely without a chance to talk things over.'

 

'Maybe Lord Nightshade would like a chance to sing,' mused Beria aloud, twirling her cudgel in her hands. 'Tell us a little bit about what he's been doing all these past days.'

 

'I will tell you nothing, whore,' spat Jemdir, moving forward. 

 

In a blur of movement, Lalvani An'Ryshe had him pinned against the wall by the very earth itself, a tiny smile playing at the champion's lips (the Talons spent much of her time with her sharpness sheathed, yet those who forgot it were liable to succumb to her wrath quite quickly). 

 

Still, Jemdir continued. 'What we did, we did because you were weak. All of you - the ideal of the Glomdoring is a sham, one that does not deserve to live. We were giving you a gift, you fools, and you would fight us still!'

 

Pursing her lips, Miara remarked, 'On second thoughts it might be better if we simply gagged him,' she said, 'and spoke amongst ourselves.'

 

'Ourselves?' asked Daindam suspiciously, glancing around. 'There's still at least one killer alive here, Keeper. Are you sure that's quite wise?'

 

Miara narrowed her eyes slightly at the response, which sounded to her ears somewhat defensive. The killers, she thought to herself, thrived off chaos - a lot of chaos came from a lack of planning or forethought. To be urging hastiness at this point smacked, to her, of guilt - or desperation. Neither was particularly promising for the druid. She wondered if Lalvani suspected anything.

 

At that moment, however, Dakuni returned - a grave look upon his face. 'He's dead,' reported the Harbinger, holding up the bloodied Baton of the Dark Heart as proof. 'Just like all the others. It looked - well, it looked like he didn't put up much of a fight.'

 

'Coward,' muttered Miara bitterly. 'I suppose he was hoping for death, in the end.'

 

'Death is nothing without rebirth,' replied Dakuni somberly, glancing over at Haloia's corpse. 'Perhaps there is some purpose to this.'

 

Her voice thick with tiredness, Miara said, 'I am not sure how you can cling to that so wholly.'

 

'It is what we are taught, those who serve Lady Mahalla.'

 

Miara nodded. 'We were all taught many things,' she said frankly. 'None of them prepared us for this.'

 

/Miara? I'm...I'm not sure we should wait. Things are so close to done. I need to know that this is it, that it's over./ Beria's voice whispered softly in her mind, causing Miara to frown. /Please. Let's just go about our days, our last days, and - and see this done./

 

/You're certain?/

 

/I know you want time to get more information/, continued Beria, /but Miara - there's no more information for us to get. The last killer is either Lalvani or Daindam or - or Llain. The only people I'm certain of are you and Dakuni and me./

 

/It is not Llain/, replied Miara angrily, before sighing. /At least - I'm so sure./

 

/I know you are. But it still could be./

 

/It's not./

 

Beria shot Miara a tired, sad smile. /I hope it's not. But we need to know. We need another day./

 

Finally acquiescing, Miara waved her hand towards Beria, gesturing for her to continue. The druidess turned to Jemdir Nightshade with the same unsettlingly brilliant smile she had flashed him earlier. 'I have a gift for you, assassin,' she said cheerily. 'The eternal and ultimate embrace of Brother Crow. I'm sure you'll love it.'

 

Catching Dakuni's raised eyebrow in her peripheral vision, Miara gave him a nod to confirm what was going on. Grimacing, he shook his head. /I was so certain he hadn't - oh well/, Dakuni told her, sighing. /Beria spotted him?/

 

/Yes/, confirmed Miara, as Lalvani began to drag Jemdir out of the Court and towards the Master Ravenwood. /She got lucky./

 

'I'll take lucky at this point,' murmured Dakuni loud enough only for Miara to hear as they followed the procession out of the Shadow Court. 'We had to get some karmic blessings eventually.'

 

Chuckling wryly, Miara took up a spot alongside Brennan Stormcrow and watched impassively as Beria called on Brother Crow to take Jemdir and make a meal of him. The sombre atmosphere that had hung heavy over the commune seemed to have lifted, replaced by a tense desperation that drove people to an almost heady humour, light heartedness seeming the only way to truly cope with the reality of what was happening. Miara only hoped it wouldn't cause them to overlook the gravity of the situation.

 

When there was nothing left of Jemdir Nightshade, the final six members of the Glomdoring Commune looked at one another. The issue at hand hung unspoken in the air - that one of them was still a murderer, and their only hope for survival was Beria choosing the right person from the three possibilities who remained, or the killer being stupid enough to kill Beria with Miara watching. It was not a wholly comforting situation.

 

Chapter 11, Continued

---------------------

 

'Well, this is awkward,' remarked Dakuni with a roguish grin, looking around. 'Shall we just go about our business and pretend that one of us isn't a killer, until we've got a chance to investigate it further? I think there are some Elders that need carving.'

 

'I suppose you think it's a good thing not all of the Blacktalon have been culled,' murmured Lalvani, brushing blood from her robes where it had splattered over her as she held Jemdir down for Brother Crow.

 

'Absolutely,' Dakuni replied. 'Who else would we have to chain to the totems?'

 

Lalvani's chuckles drifted after her as she made her way out to sweep the area, plucking a powerplex jewel from her vacuum as she walked. 'You'd think the end of all things would get you a day off from this,' she mumbled as she departed.

 

Turning to Beria, Miara beckoned to her. 'We should talk,' she said simply, losing the other people following her and leading the druidess out into the forest. They sat on the crumbling wall in the eastern side near the hills, watching the zombies lumber back and forth. 'So,' began Miara once they were alone and seated. 'Got a plan?'

 

'I have a plan,' said Beria cautiously, turning something unseen over in her palms. 'It's not a very good one.'

 

Wryly, Miara chuckled. 'A bad plan is better than no plan at all,' she pointed out. 'How are you narrowing it down?'

 

Beria pursed her lips in thought, watching a shadow of Crow as it flitted past. 'You're certain it isn't Llain?' she asked gently, her voice as a whisper on the rising wind.

 

'I sleep in the same bed as her every day,' replied Miara in a voice heavy with fatigue. 'I think I would have noticed if she was sneaking out to stab people. Or coming back covered in blood.'

 

Nodding slowly, Beria opened her palm to reveal a single gold sovereign. 'Rule her out, then. This is my plan.'

 

'Your plan is to bribe them into not killing?' asked Miara, stumped as to what the coin could possibly do to assist them.

 

'My plan is to select at random,' said Beria, 'and trust to the Spirits and Fates to guide us. Heads or tails, for Lalvani?'

 

Miara stared blankly at Beria as if she had grown to a third head. 'Has it seriously come down to this?' she asked incredulously, looking between Beria and the coin that would supposedly decide their fate.

 

'Do you have a better idea? We can argue between Daindam and Lalvani if you like, but we'll be here all night - and a lot of it has passed already.'

 

Sighing, Miara ran her hands over her face. 'Heads for Lalvani,' she answered with resignation, and Beria placed the coin on her thumb, folded under her index finger.

 

'Here goes then,' she said, before flipping the coin up into the air. Catching it nimbly, she turned it upside down on her left hand. 'Tails I investigate Daindam,' she confirmed, 'heads I investigate Lalvani.'

 

Beria lifted her hand away and the coin's glistening golden head was visible. 'Well then,' said Miara, 'that's that decided. Hopefully your coin didn't just kill us all.'

 

'I guess we'll find out tomorrow,' said Beria with a small shrug, tucking the coin back into her pack. 'You'll watch me again? Incase...'

 

'I'll watch you,' stated Miara, ruffling the druidess's hair in an unusual show of affection. 'But try not to get killed.'

 

Grinning, Beria's wings began to hum as she hovered off the wall. 'I'll do my best,' she promised. 'The same applies to you, you know. It'd be nice if we could both get through this alive.'

 

'It's a lot to hope for,' admitted Miara, 'but that doesn't mean we shouldn't. Now be off with you -  I need to go reset the traps around your nest.'

 

Giving her cousin-in-law an impulsive hug, Beria flew off into the lessening darkness. Miara prayed to Mother Night that would not be the last time she saw the druidess.

 

Chapter 12

----------

 

Dusk fell, and Miara pressed her lips into the tussle of Llain's hair that was writhing wildly in her face when she opened her eyes. The ramifications of being alive dawned on Miara much faster this evening, but she did not rush to Beria quite as quickly as she had done the night before. They were too close to the end, now. Either Beria was dead, or she was not - running would not make it any the less or more likely.

 

Llain stirred in her arms, and Miara smiled at the rare occasion of being the first to wake up for once. The dreamweaver was usually a very light sleeper, prone indeed to walking around in her slumber. Thankfully it hadn't been bad recently - Miara had feared once or twice what might happen if Llain wandered off in her sleep, only to come into the path of one of the killers. Casting the unwanted thought aside, she kissed her waking wife deeply before climbing out of bed and beginning to pull her clothes and armour on.

 

'Do we know who, yet?' asked Llain sleepily.

 

'Not yet,' replied Miara. 'I'm going to see Beria now. To see - hopefully.'

 

Llain grimaced, and began to stretch in an attempt to wake herself properly. 'I should go with you,' she mumbled half-heartedly, and Miara almost laughed.

 

'Stay,' she urged, leaning down to brush the back of her hand against Llain's cheek. Blue eyes met red, all glowing. 'I'll let you know as soon as I find out, but you should rest if you can. It's good to see you sleeping better.'

 

'Not sure how I am,' said Llain into the pillow as she turned over, her voice muffled by the feathers. 'Given everything.'

 

'Everything is probably tiring you out,' reasoned Miara, buckling her sword belt. 'I'll see you later.'

 

Llain grumbled a response, but Miara couldn't distinguish any of it - instead she turned and exited the manse, calling on the spirit wolf as she went. The first thing she noticed upon inhaling at the portals was that there was no blood - at least, no giant pools of it that would resemble a stabbing. The second thing she noticed was that, against all odds, Beria was alive.

 

/I'm sure they're just being stupid now/, came the druidess's voice into her head. /And yes, I've been watching for you. I've a meld up around there to see who was waking./

 

Letting out a laugh, Miara shook her head. Someone up above was either playing with them, or they were getting exceptionally lucky. She wasn't sure she wanted to know which. /Alright. So was it Lalvani?/

 

/Nope/, replied Beria. /In fact you'll want to come and see this. Inside the Ravenwood./

 

Scenting out, Miara could smell Beria, Lalvani and Dakuni all at the entrance to the Blacktalon guildhall - and what had the suspicious scent of early decomposition. Sighing, she headed through the tunnels and past the nexus to meet them. As she feared, Daindam's body lay there as if sleeping, his cudgel clutched limply in his dead hands where rigormortis had set in.

 

'Ah,' said Miara simply, glancing over at Lalvani. The Talons of Crow was holding up surprisingly well, it seemed, but she was being supported by Dakuni nonetheless. 'Lalvani...'

 

'I know,' whispered the widow, looking down at the floor. 'You're very sorry he's dead. We all are.'

 

Tugging at Miara's sleeve, Beria got the Keeper's attention. 'No one's been stabbed,' she pointed out quietly. 'I was wondering, maybe...if perhaps Daindam was the one who's been stabbing people.'

 

Miara frowned, and glanced over at Lalvani. 'I'm sorry to ask this,' she said gently, 'but do you think it's possible?'

 

'I've not noticed him coming home covered in blood, if that's what you're asking,' replied Lalvani softly, her voice shaking somewhat. 'I honestly don't know. It's possible, yes. Before all this started I would have said it wasn't likely, but - Jemdir was an assassin. Eliaei was. I'm not sure I can trust people based on being family anymore.'

 

Sighing, Miara ran her hands over her face. 'Well,' she began slowly, 'that would at least mean one sort of killer is dead. But someone killed Daindam.'

 

The others glanced between one another, exchanging anxious expressions. There was some sort of shared understanding amongst them that Miara wasn't privy to, and it unnerved her. At any other time she might have indulged their secrecy but with only five of them left alive, her patience was wearing thin.

 

'What. What is it?' she demanded, folding her arms over her breastplate.

 

Beria glanced at the others and then back to Miara, shuffling nervously on the spot. 'It's just that...there are only five of us left,' she began slowly. 'We know I'm not a killer. And Dakuni and Lalvani, I've investigated both of them.'

 

The maths of it began to slowly dawn on Miara, and she gritted her teeth. 'If you have something to say,' she spat cooly, 'just say it. Don't beat around the subject.'

 

'It's you or Llain,' blurted Beria, her nerves getting the better of her. 'You're the only people I haven't investigated. And Miara...what have you really found out, that could prove that you're really what you say you are?'

 

Miara stumbled, the accusation hitting her hard. She had thought that Beria was going to accuse Llain, to claim that her wife was the final killer - but this was something else. They were all looking at her, frowning, genuinely trying to work out if she was lying or not. And what did she really have to tell them? Beria was right. The only person she'd caught was Eliaei, and for all they knew that was a lucky fluke - or Eliaei had helped her set it up, had taken the fall so that she could remain hidden amongst the rest of them.

 

And the only alternative argument she had was to say that her wife was an assassin.

 

Crumpling back against the wall of the Court, Miara exhaled in one long and shaky breath. 'Do you really think that?' she whispered in a hoarse voice, lifting her eyes to meet Beria's.

 

The druidess's face crumpled and she stepped back against Lalvani for support, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. 'I don't know,' she said in a voice that was almost a whimper. 'It's you or my cousin. Do you really think I can choose?'

 

'You think I've lied to you all? This long, and this hard?' asked Miara.

 

'It's that or Llain,' Dakuni interrupted harshly, standing alongside Beria and Lalvani. 'Which are you saying, Miara?'

 

It was at that point that Miara Wyrmglow, the Black Lady, did something for which she never truly forgave herself - an act of extreme cowardice, fuelled by desperation but mostly out of denial, an inability to accept the only possible truth left open to her.

 

She fled.

 

Taking the pathways to the Wyrden Isle, she ripped off the armour that shielded her from all of the world and cast it aside, curling up at the heart of the mountain in a small foetal ball. In her frantic desire to find some way out of the situation, Miara began to think of all the possible ways that it could be untrue. A way that the assassin could be someone other than Llain - other than her wife. She knew that she was innocent, and there was too much evidence for Beria - which meant that the only other way was for Beria to have been wrong about Lalvani and Dakuni. Was it possible that the druidess was somehow unable to find their treachery?

 

No. No, it was not.

 

She had to face the truth: in all likelihood, Llain was a traitor. Llain was a killer.

 

Disjointed pieces of the past nine days and nights flashed in Miara's vision. The nights that Llain had been so good about putting her into a tranced sleep, out of which she was unlikely to stir - even if Llain left for hours and came back covered in blood. There was the evening where Llain had woken early and Miara had found her in the spring. The fact that the assassins had not attacked Beria, the very morning after Miara had told Llain that she would be watchimg her.

 

It all added it up. It added up far too much, and made Miara want to vomit. Llain was an assassin. Her wife. Llain. Was a traitor.

 

Letting out an anguished yell, Miara plunged her fists into the mountain. Dusty rock billowed around her where she struck, and the blood that rose on her knuckles was covered in a thin film of it. As the pain blossomed in her hands, she hit again, and again, and again, until the screaming in her heart was drowned out by the blissful ecstasy of the pain, burning up her arms like cleansing fire. And when she met that point, she went further; delivering still more blows to the unflinching rock, even as her hands began to glow with virulent purple bruises.

 

It wasn't until she had beaten her hands so roughly that the bone of her knuckles becamse visible that she collapsed back onto the floor, clutching her head in the crooks of her elbows. Finally the hurt in her heart and mind was drowned out, leaving only the one remaining truth: that she could not send her wife to Brother Crow, even though she was certain of her guilt. That she might as well be just as much of a traitor, for all that her devotion was worth now.

 

That her emotions had taken control of her, been allowed to run rampant, and that she was weak. That she was going to fail the Glomdoring - and that knowing all of this, she would do it anyway. Again and again and again, to save the woman that she loved.

 

That her soul was not pure.

 

That she was loyal, but would still betray.

 

But who, Miara could not help but wonder, was left to be devoted?