Maeve
Maeve staggered as they emerged from the shadows, her body swaying under the weight of exhaustion. The world snapped back into clarity, and she realized she was in a home, seemingly Eira’s house. It was dimly lit by the faint orange light of a lantern and a fireplace that was smoldering at the other end of the room. The room smelled of dried herbs and melted wax and filled with the faint hum of magic in the air.
She winced, feeling the sharp ache of hunger in her chest that clawed at her insides. She gritted her teeth and leaned against the wall for support, her shadow-stained hands trembling as she clenched them into fists. Her sharp fingernails dug into the palm of her hand until the pain distracted her from her hunger.
Behind her, Eira stumbled, catching herself on the edge of a table. She let out a soft exhale, her golden eyes dimmer than before. She still seemed quite aware though, Maeve noted.
“That took much more out of me than I expected…” Eira admitted, brushing her white braids out of her face. Maeve only hummed in response. Eira made eye contact with Maeve, “Are you alright?” Eira asked gently.
Maeve barked a quiet, humorless laugh. “Alright? I haven’t been ‘alright’ in years.”
Eira frowned, stepping closer, but Maeve tensed. She instinctively shrunk back, pushing her back against the wall. She wasn’t going to let her guard down just because the lux had decided to play nice. She was thankful that Eira had helped her escape, but that didn’t mean she was all sunshine and rainbows.
“I don’t trust you,” Maeve spoke flatly, her voice sharp, “Let’s get that straight right now, I don’t trust you. I appreciate your help, but I won’t trust you because of one small act.”
Eira crossed her arms, her glow flickering faintly as her markings pulsed with light. “I saved you,” she remarked, “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of saving you just to kill you in my own home.”
Maeve’s eyes narrowed, “Maybe you have other plans for me. Lux are good at playing the savior. You said yourself that they think of you as a saint, yet of all your time here, you never convinced them that nox aren’t evil. Odd, isn’t it?”
Eira’s jaw tightened but Maeve noticed that she didn’t argue with her statement. Instead, Eira turned away and gestured towards a chair near the small hearth that sat on the other side of the room, not too far from where Maeve was standing.
“Sit down before you collapse.” Eira muttered curtly.
Maeve hesitated, her pride bristling at the command. But her legs felt as though they might give out at any moment. With a reluctant huff, she pushed herself off of the wall and slumped into the chair, her body sagging against the light-colored wood. Maeve watched as Eira moved to a shelf and pulled down a small jar, her fingers brushing over vials of glowing liquids and dried plants. She watched as Eira carefully mixed ingredients and poured a liquid into an empty cup.
“What are you doing?” Maeve asked curiously.
Eira glanced over her soldier and the two made eye contact. Maeve noticed how her eyes seemed to glow a bit brighter at the question.
“You are starving,” Eira reminded as though Maeve didn’t already know that, “I don’t have any life force to give you, but I have this. It will give you strength until you can feed again.”
Maeve nodded slowly, committing as much of that to memory as possible. She didn’t want Eira’s help, but she didn’t really have a choice. The lux had nothing wrong and was actively trying to help her despite all of Maeve’s rude comments. Eira set the cup down in front of her.
She stared at the glowing liquid; it smelled earthy and honestly really good. She would never admit to liking the smell, but she savored it internally. She didn’t trust it completely, the smell could be to distract her from poison, it could be something that would instantly kill her, she had nothing to go off of other than Eira’s word.
But she raised the cup to her lips and took a cautious sip of the liquid. The warmth of the drink spread through her and almost instantly she felt better. Her vision was much clearer, her hunger wasn’t nearly as bad, and she felt stronger. She forced a neutral expression as a smile threatened to appear on her lips. The taste was foreign to her; or at least long forgotten.
“Better?” Eira asked, her voice was sweet and calm. Maeve wanted to hate it but she couldn’t bring herself to.
Maeve didn’t answer, setting the cup down on the table with a quiet clink. Her fingers drummed against the wooden table and her gaze flicked to the window where night was falling. She watched the stars lain out on the dark canvas of night. It was beautiful and she rarely took the time to enjoy the little things like the sky.
The shadows outside seemed to pulse, calling to her. They promised safety if she just ran now. The lux didn’t know anything, she tried to tell herself. She was better off alone than relying on some random lux for help.
She wasn’t weak.
But where would she go? The forest had nothing good to offer her and she could only rely on the village for so long before they chased after her. There were neighboring villages and towns, but they would have the same problem as the village here did. It was a temporary solution that could very easily go wrong. Maeve didn’t want to build a bond with anyone, they would just slow her down, a weakness that could be avoided.
Relationships would hurt her in the end, they did before, and she doubted that Eira could be any different. Maeve sighed and decided that she needed life force, she could find someone at the village and feed off of them quickly before anyone had time to catch her. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was better than sitting around doing nothing in a lux’s home.
“I have to go.” Maeve finally broke the silence, pushing herself up from the chair.
Eira blocked her path, her glowing markings making her dark skin even more warm. “Go where? Back to the woods to starve? To be hunted?”
Maeve’s hands curled into fists. “It’s none of your business.”
Eira didn’t move, her expression softening. “Maybe not, but I don’t think you want to die out there. And I’m offering you a chance to survive.”
Maeve’s chest tightened. The lux’s words dug under her skin, poking at wounds she had long since stitched shut. She didn’t need help surviving. She had been living in the Spirit Realm for hundreds of years; she didn’t need help from a lux who had everything handed to her on a silver platter. She didn’t know anything. She didn’t know what it was like with the devs, the torture she endured. How helping someone else had cost her humanity.
The shadows crawled up her arms, she let them consume her. Afterall, they were a part of her. She could feel the power they held as they whispered into her ears, in her mind, she wasn’t going to let some random women get in her way.
“I’m not staying here,” Maeve declared, her voice cold and void of emotions, “I don’t want your help, nor do I need it.”
Eira didn’t stop her this time, but her voice followed Maeve as she moved towards the door.
“I know you just want to be human,” Eira paused, looking Maeve in the eyes, “but if you let the shadows control you, then you are no better than the monsters you hate.”
Maeve froze, her hand on the doorframe. She didn’t look back, but something in Eira’s words sank into her, like a seed planted in barren soil. Without another word, Maeve slipped into the night and let the shadows cover her like a blanket.
She wandered through the forest, kicking rocks and breaking branches as she made her way to the village. Through the thick trees she could barely see the faint lights of torches. She made it to a clearing that connected to the edge of the village. There, she saw a guard alone with a sword in hand.
Maeve raised a hand and made the shadows force him to the ground. The happy tendrils pinned the young man to the ground, like a quivering mouse cornered by a hungry falcon. She walked into the moonlight where the guard could see her. Just as he was about to scream the shadows closed around his throat.
She knelt beside him, shadows curling around her like eager serpents. The hunter's eyes widened in terror, his lips trembling as he tried to form words. A pathetic noise escaped, a half plea, half whimper, and something inside her laughed.
Weak, the shadows whispered.
Maeve smiled, her lips pulling back to reveal sharp teeth. His horror sent a rush of heat through her veins, and she gave in, sinking her teeth into his neck. His skin tore with sickening ease, the taste of copper flooding her mouth. Shadows pooled around them, swirling eagerly as she commanded them to pull his life force to her. She felt powerful, in control.
Warmth surged through her body, sweet and intoxicating. Power coursed through her limbs, and for a moment, she felt invincible. More. The shadows urged her on, greedily devouring what little was left of the man beneath her. His blood spilled over both of them, painting the grass in deep crimson streaks, but she didn’t care.
When it was over, she pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. His body lay still, pale and empty, eyes staring blankly at the sky. It felt so good to be the one doing the hunting, the hurting. For three years she feared being discovered, but now, she felt free. They were scared of her for a reason, and Maeve embraced that.
For a moment, guilt stabbed at her chest. The warmth she’d stolen faded, replaced by a chill that seeped into her bones. Her shadowy hands darkened, the veins spreading further up her arms. She stared at them, trembling.
This is what you are, the shadows whispered, their voices curling around her ears. A monster.
Her hands drifted to the horns on her head. She ran her fingers over their sharp points, memories flooding her mind. She remembered the pain of them breaking through her skin, the devs calling it a "gift." She could still hear their laughter, see their inky black claws pinning nox to the ground.
Maeve’s throat tightened. She missed being human. She missed her family. She missed everything she had been before this curse. She was sick, she had just killed a man. That wasn’t the bad part either. The bad part was that she had enjoyed it, his pain, his struggle, it had brought her joy.
Just like the devs who had tortured her for centuries.
The image of devs loomed in her mind; leathery wings, tails swaying like pendulums, their grins sharp and bloodied. She looked down at the body before her. It looked just like the nox corpses she’d seen in the Spirit Realm.
Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground, clutching the blood-stained grass. Tears streamed down her face, but they weren’t clear. They were black, inky drops that soaked into the earth like poison.
She sobbed silently, her body wracked with tremors, but the shadows stayed. They didn’t comfort her. They didn’t leave her. They just waited, patient and cold, as she wept for what she had lost and what she had become.
A monster.
Once a monster.
Always a monster.
She cried until her eyes ached and not another tear could fall. Her head hurt and she closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down even slightly. She finally took a few breaths and sat on the ground.
Maeve looked up at the village and heard a scream. At first she didn’t pay any mind to it, too wrapped up in her own mess to care about anyone else’s problems. But, then another scream, and another. She stood up and decided to check out what was going on. Despite her guilt she grabbed the dead guard’s sword and gripped it tightly until her knuckles turned white.
Down the street she stuck to the shadows and peered down every alley she crossed. Nothing looked unusual at first. Not until she peaked down a main street that led directly to the heart of the village.
There, dragonbloods stood, some holding onto humans, others holding torches and weapons. She watched in horror as one dragonblood threw a torch at a nearby house, in a second the building erupted into flames. The fire flames crackled and the building groaned as a beam hit the ground and echoed throughout the town. Embers flew in every direction and for a moment the screams felt distant and small.
People screamed and wailed. One person, a middle aged lady, escaped a dragonborn’s grasp and ran towards the home crying. Maeve watched in horror as a dragonborn with crimson scales raised his axe, bringing it down on the lady. Blood splattered on the cobblestone road and the villager crumbled to the ground.
Maeve’s instincts screamed at her to run and retreat into the safety of the forest, to slip back into the shadows and let the dragonborn do whatever they wanted. That wasn’t her fight. In fact, she hated the villagers too. Really, she was more likely to help the dragonborn than anything. Yet, she didn’t run.
Let them burn, it’s no concern of yours. The shadows hissed.
The shadows were right, these weren’t her people. The shadows pulsed around her as she fidgeted with her fingers, trying to calm herself down. These people were Eira’s people. Maeve thought of the girl with golden eyes and long white braids; the lux who offered her help when Maeve hadn’t asked for any. The girl who cared just for the sake of caring, not expecting anything in return. She could at least get Eira out.
With a growl of frustration, Maeve reached for the nearest shadows and jumped to Eira’s house. Thankfully it didn’t drain her too much as she had just fed, but it still took her a moment to clear her vision.
Eira was tending to a small lantern on the table when Maeve appeared, her expression tight and her hands trembling. Eira looked up, startled and confused by Maeve’s return.
“You have blood on-” Eira began, pointing out the blood of the guard that was on her skin. Maeve cut her off.
“The village,” Maeve exhaled, “It’s burning, there are dragonborn taking the villagers, killing anyone who dares to rebel.”
Eira froze, her golden eyes widening. “Dragonborn? Here?”
Maeve nodded. She was pacing now, fidgeting with her hands. “I saw them. They’re taking over the village, rallying all of the villagers in the middle of the town. If you stay, they’ll find you too. Your house is really close to the village.”
For a moment, Eira seemed frozen, her knuckles white around the lantern. Then, her lips pressed into a thin line, her hands beginning to glow brighter. She set the lantern down with trembling fingers and turned to face Maeve.
“We have to help them.” She said firmly.
Maeve stopped pacing and stared at the lux in surprise, “Help them? Are you insane? The dragonborn are known to be ruthless soldiers, they’ll kill us like everyone else. I came here to warn you so we could get out; to leave.”
“I can’t just abandon them,” Eira insisted, her voice trembling with emotion that surprised Maeve even more, “These are the people I’ve lived with and protected for years; I can’t let them die like this.”
Frustration boiled inside Maeve, “And what good will it do if you get yourself killed? You think they’ll thank you for dying alongside them?” Her words came out much harsher than she had intended.
Eira faltered but quickly straightened up. “I don’t care about gratitude; it’s the right thing to do.”
She was torn between the desire to leave and the inexplicable urge to stay and redeem herself. Maeve clenched her fists in indecision; conflicted and overwhelmed.
Every instinct in her rebelled against the words she was about to say. She didn’t owe Eira anything. She hated the villagers. But even as she opened her mouth to argue, the word ‘fine’ escaped, bitter and sharp as poison.
With a groan of exasperation, Maeve grabbed Eira’s arm, “But you’re not charging in there alone. You’ll just get yourself killed. If you want to be stupid, at least let me keep you alive long enough to regret it.”
Eira blinked, clearly startled, “You’re going to help me? You hated when I helped you.” She pointed out.
Maeve scowled, “Don’t read too much into it. I just don’t want your glowing corpse drawing attention to me.”
A very faint smile tugged at Eira’s lips, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she nodded and grabbed a staff from beside the door, its head carved into a spiral that pulsed with light as she held it. Meanwhile, Maeve held onto the guard’s sword with her shadowy hand. She felt the shadows nearby, there whispers haunting her.
The shadows shouted at her with anger in their cold, inhuman voices. They are dead to you; you are strong enough to disappear into the woods and never look back.
Maeve ignored the shadow's calls but kept that option in that back of her head. She could run if she had to, jump from shadow to shadow as far away as possible. She wouldn’t yet, she wouldn’t leave Eira behind.
“Let’s go.” Eira commanded, her voice somehow steady. How she suddenly seemed so calm, Maeve had no clue.
“Let’s just try not to die,” Maeve muttered.
Eira glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Agreed.”
Maeve hesitated, the shadows around her flickering like restless waves. She met Eira’s gaze, a silent promise passing between them. Then, she pulled them into the shadows, jumping to the edge of the burning village.