Children of Fire and Sun: The Rebellion (Novella Version) ✓

Chapter Fifteen: Maysa (Æscford)

"The dead travel fast."
— A Hrothgarian proverb.
~•~

That night Maysa slept like the dead.

Perhaps the sleep deities had shown favour to the princess at last, letting her overwrought mind wander off to realms unknown, while her weary bones rested. Or perhaps it was the influence of Remus's arms wrapped around her, their bodies moulded against each in perfect symmetry. Oblivious to the tempest that Ayan had unleashed in the capital, she slept.

It had been another long day, as had become routine. Their two encampments rode further within the woods, searching till eventide, after which they returned to rest for the night. So far they had found nothing to suggest where in the world Lady Lysa had gone. Yet they dared not give up on hope. It was the sole thing that kept them moving, and in Maysa's opinion, it was what kept Janus sane.

That night, she was asleep.

As had become a habit after that night of passion, she was in Remus's tent, having stolen in after most of their men had gone off to sleep. Her limbs were tangled with Remus, her face resting against his chest. The constant rhythm of his heartbeat was a lullaby in her ears. Her lower lip was thrust out like that of a slumbering child, innocent and without a worry in the world.

Yet her mind was not the expanse of darkness that she had gotten accustomed to. Instead, she found herself in a dreamscape, not quite different from the woods they were in. There was a brook somewhere, the trickle of its water a continuous jingle in the dream. Her ethereal form floated over the tall grass, not quite aware of where her destination was, as was the custom of dreams. One rarely has much control over what it reveals and how much. 

Grey clouds adorned the skies, the stars occluded from her vision. The trees were a blurred silhouette against the backdrop of the dark canvas. Fireflies flew around in circles, their luminescence the only light that illuminated Maysa's path. That, and the sound of the trickling water.

She stirred in her sleep, draping her arm even more tightly around Remus. A frown emerged between her brows, but she did not wake. Instead, she still lingered in that strange terrain of her stupor. Maysa floated deeper within it, her surroundings a haze as she delved deeper into this realm of her dream. The trickle grew into a full-fledged gush.

A stream? The haze cleared somewhat. It revealed a meandering brook in the middle of the woods, surrounded by gnarled trees. Winds ruffled the leaves of those trees, whose branches stopped so low that they almost touched the surface of the water. The brook ran at a steady pace, the susurrations a resounding roar.

There was nothing to see. Or that was what Maysa thought in the first instant. Against the darkness of the vista, the figure huddled by the corner of a barren tree to her right hand escaped her notice. Tendrils of dark hair flew in the wind as the figure rocked back and forth. Wisps of mist swathed that scene.

Maysa moved forward. She was close to the figure now, its bone-thin body fully visible to her. Tattered fabric clung to its frame as it hunched over at an unnatural angle. Its spine seemed to protrude from its skin, giving the appearance of giant beetles moving up and down in a line. Cold dread seeped through her skin. In silence, they remained for a long time.

Then the thing turned to stare at her.

Its face was pale, translucent. Black veins snaked beneath the skin, pulsating with vile blood. Its eyes were missing, dark craters that mocked the surrounding darkness. The lips were a gaping maw of serrated teeth that widened in a grotesque smile. Blood dribbled down from a corner of its lips. A scream died in Maysa's throat.

"Brimo." Its voice was a hoarse whisper. "Et sava brimo."

Her heart raced in her chest as the figure stood up. It moved in closer and closer, each moment an agony that stretched on endlessly. Maysa was petrified to the spot. She gazed into that horrible face, awaiting her fate, until—

"Oh, my gods!"

Maysa sat up in the tent with a strangled cry. Her chest heaved up and down with rapid breaths while sweat drenched the fabric of her attire to the point it was soggy. Despite the dream having passed, the chill that had accompanied it remained with Maysa. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh.

Remus stirred beside her. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, his demeanour disoriented. Maysa's yelp and her frightened visage were the last things he had thought he would witness in the middle of the night.

"Maysa?" He put an arm on her shoulder. "What happened to you?"

She swallowed hard. "I…I had a dream. A nightmare, if I am being honest."

"A nightmare, you say? What did—"

Before he could speak another word, his eyes diverted to the blood that trickled down from both her nostrils. Caught up in the throes of the dream, Maysa seemed to not even notice it. But Remus could not just ignore it. He pulled out a clean rag from beneath his pillow and wiped off the blood.

"You are bleeding again, my sweet."  He explained, seeing the confusion in her eyes. "It must have been quite an ordeal, I suppose."

Her shoulders slumped. "I do not know, Remus. I saw something that makes little sense. Perhaps I am thinking too much about matters that are not in my control."

"We are all facing this same issue—" he placed aside the rag after having cleaned Maysa's face. "—especially since this search began. It cannot be helped, given how little our search has yielded."

"Well, our searches have yielded nothing." Maysa huffed in annoyance. "It's as if the lady has disappeared into thin air. I will not be surprised if we find out that her family is behind this and the search is nothing but a farce."

After a moment's silence, Remus said, "She did not want to get married."

"That goes without saying. No sane lady would want to endure Edmund Eni for the rest of their lives."

He shook his head. "No, you do not understand. She was desperate to not be married to him at any cost. I surmise that Lady Lysa was ready to go to any lengths to prevent this arrangement from being fulfilled."

"How do you know this?" Maysa frowned. "Your words seem to hint at something more than mere instinct, Remus."

Remus removed his hand from her shoulder. His face turned impassive as he looked down at his feet, frowning. He was lost in thought, withdrawn into his mind. Maysa sighed. Whatever it is, he does not want to tell me.

It was not usual for her friend to behave like this. She remembered the first time he had withdrawn like this when she had posed a question. A particular scar that ran diagonally on his left shoulder had intrigued her, back when she was girl of twelve.

Yet when she asked him about it, he went silent just like he did then. It would be much later in their friendship when she would learn that the scar had come from his father when he tried to protect his younger brother from his wrath. Remus had been ten, and Ryan was five.

"Do you trust me?" He looked up at her at last, his eyes shimmering. "Will you still have faith in me, my sweet, if I were to not divulge my thoughts at this moment?"

Maysa inched closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You know I do. But if it is about Lysa, I ought to know that. It doesn't matter how you are involved, but you must tell me the truth."

"It is complicated." He said with a forlorn smile.

"I swear on the Maiden that I will not judge you," Maysa said. "You know I will shield you even if I know you have murdered someone, Remus. But you have to be honest with me and tell me what has happened."

"It is nothing as severe," Remus replied. "I just do not know if this is the right time."

They sat in silence for a while. Then, unable to bear the ache in her heart, Maysa leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. Her lips were soft and inviting against his own and reciprocated with the same ardour as that of Maysa's. He put his arms around her waist, drawing her closer. As they parted breathlessly, they took each other in a tight embrace.

Their touch spoke volumes more than words ever could.

~•~