Hiraeth
Arya Skovsgaard has been identified as the Remnant who went by the identity of “The Dark One.” This is following an attack on the Guild of Defenders that left fifteen Guild members dead.
“What?” I squeak, but Mary’s firm grip around my arm and waist pulls me close.
I only have a moment to consider how warm she feels against me before she’s directing us down into the basin. When we reach the flat part of the stone, it becomes less clear who she is to these people.
Gregor, if that had been his name, had said “queen,” but the way these people bow in reverence makes “goddess” feel more appropriate.
What had just been a raucous party is now as silent as a funeral service. The crowd parts and a previously unseen dais appears at the far end of the field. I can’t help but stare at the faces as Mary ushers us by.
Several look humanoid. They have mouths and eyes. Some have fangs and others have slitted pupils that look like a lizard’s. Many others look decidedly less human, almost bordering on the absurd.
The creatures that look like biped wolves have upper torsos resembling bears and lions. Beside them are the dragon folk who, unfailingly, look like human dragons from storybooks.
Before I can really take any of it in, Mary has turned us to face them. I can’t really decide what the vibe of the crowd is, but they look expectant. And I feel disturbingly like a trophy.
“Tempest,” Mary’s voice rings out louder than I would have expected from her. “I wish to express my deepest gratitude for your hard work over these last few months. Many have perished for the survival of our kind and for the stability that we might experience in the future.”
There is a general murmur of agreement through the crowd. Several of the were-creatures thrust mugs of something brown into the air.
“I know there were rumors of my time in the field, and I wish to clear them—at least for the most part,” she gives the crowd a knowing smirk and there’s a titter of laughter.
Mary turns to me, and for a moment, it feels like it’s only the two of us.
“Would you like a new identity?” she asks, her voice now only between us.
“I’m so fucking confused right now, Mary,” I hiss, glancing around her at the crowd.
“Please,” she whispers, her body is so close I can feel the warmth radiating off her again. “Just trust me. I will explain.”
I nod and take a quick breath.
“A new identity?” Mary prompts again.
Even as I consider it, the answer feels obvious. Though I have no idea where that note is now.
“Hiraeth,” I murmur, and Mary barely restrains a genuine grin before she turns back to the crowd. Even from the side profile, I can see the way her lips are quirked at the ends.
Her dark orange eyes seem to glisten with newfound excitement as she begins again.
“Tempest holds power beyond the imaginable. Within our walls and across Nye Verden, we have some of the most powerful beings to walk this plane. I am honored to recognize the newest member of our family.”
Mary turns to me, a hand outstretched.
Tentatively, I take it and step next to her.
“Kneel,” she whispers, and I glance at her, eyes widening in confusion.
Without further prompting I follow along, unsure of how I’ve managed to find myself kneeling in front of Bloody Mary surrounded by storybook creatures deep underground.
But here I am.
I look up into Mary’s expressive eyes. They seem to assess me. Like she’s deciding if I’m worth all of this.
“You shall now be bound by blood and flame, pro omni tempore et spatio—rise, Hiraeth and be reborn anew.”
Dutifully, I stand and turn to face the crowd.
“Now,” Mary turns her attention to Tempest, “you may all return to your night of debauchery.”
Cheers erupt as the music restarts, and the mass turns back into an undulating pile of bodies. They seem happy. Like this is their family. Like this is their home.
The thought threatens emotions I’m not yet ready to explore.
“Are the spirits here?” Mary’s voice brings me back to the present and I turn to her, eyebrows raised.
“No,” I lie, seeing several just behind her. She doesn’t need to know that her new ‘powerful being’ that she apparently risked life and death for is back to old habits.
“Do not begin this relationship by lying to me,” Mary’s accented voice takes on a dangerous note. Something inhuman and dangerous.
I glance past her at the shadows growing in the corners of the room. My lips and throat feel dry as I nod.
“They’re always here, Mary,” I whisper squeezing my eyes tight for a moment. “I already told you–if you wanted a weapon, I’m not the one.”
Her eyes soften. She leans forward and takes my arm in her firm grasp, directing me off the stage and towards the other end of the basin.
“You are not a weapon,” she says, breath tickling at my ear. “But you are, most certainly, the one.”
Mary leads me through several streets filled with people and creatures that I can’t even begin to put a name to. Those that see us bow in reverence to Mary while giving me a strange look. They’re not hostile, but it’s certainly obvious that they know a stranger when they see one.
After a few minutes of silence, Mary stops us in front of what looks to be a castle built directly into the cavern wall. The sign in front of it is written in a language I can’t read, but Mary’s look of consternation is off-putting to say the least.
“I need you to recognize something,” she says, voice low and serious.
“I’m one more reality-warping informational bombshell from a total mental breakdown, so you’re going to have to be patient,” I say, giving her a weak smile.
She ignores me as she presses on. “Up there, you know me as a villain. And, in some ways, I suppose I am.”
“And here?” I try to catch her eyes, but her focus is still on the castle.
Mary chews at her bottom lip for a moment—the motion of her white teeth along the red gloss definitely doesn’t grab my attention.
Nope.
“Here you will see me as a monster. My people respect me, but they also fear me. You have only ever seen parts of it—but I need you to trust me. There are things that only you need to know and I will explain them.”
Her orange eyes find mine.
“You mean whatever that creature was back at the Guild?” I ask, glancing down at the hand on my bicep. “The one with claws longer than my forearm?”
Mary nods slowly, her face taking on a more stoney expression that I’m finding I hate almost as much as her formality towards me.
“That is part of it.”
My jaw ticks as I consider my words. It feels important that she understands me explicitly.
“For what it’s worth,” I start, giving her a smile that finally feels genuine and the stone around her eyes seems to soften. “I thought you were beautiful.”
For the first time since she’d shown up in my life, Mary looks genuinely stunned. Her eyes flit from side to side like she’s trying to decide if I’m being honest.
The expression disappears and she nods once.
“Let us meet the Council.”