Chapter Text
Farah, Saul and Ben stood in the forest, aghast and speechless. At their feet, the dead body barely resembled a man anymore. Silva was the first to speak. “It’s fresh.” That much was obvious, but he could no longer stand the silence. Dowling, in a desperate effort to escape the truth, tried : “Maybe a wolf ?” Glad to see he wasn’t the only one temped by denial, the Specialist didn’t hesitate very long before he added tentatively : “or a bear ? Could have gone out to protect his herd. Got surprised.” In the meantime, Harvey got down to examine the body. Out of the three friends, he was definitely the most practical and down to earth, perfectly embodying the type of magic that inhabited him. “I’m happy to continue the guessing game, but…” With a steady hand and a sharp knife, he inspected the wounds to confirm what they were all dreading. His verdict was quick to pierce the heavy atmosphere. “This is char residue.” Saul gasped and Farah’s whole body tensed up. Though they had known it, the confirmation of the botanist left a bitter taste in their mouths.
They all had different coping mechanisms. The headmistress clamed up and turned into the cold stoic persona she built throughout the years. Ben remained his calm and analytical self, finding solace in his mission. Silva needed to do something, to strategize : “How long since the last sighting ?” The answer came from the other man’s lips. “About two decades.” It wasn’t long before Dowling jumped in. “Sixteen years. Rosalind was relentless.” She could have told them the exact number of days that had passed if they had asked. In an effort to rationalize, or to lessen their burden, the soldier said : “Could’ve been hiding in the mount-“ He was, however, unable to finish his sentence, interrupted by the curt tone of the blonde fairy. “She killed all the Burned Ones.” She had to hang on to that thought. They all did. Harvey, in his true fashion, brought a more nuanced card to the table. “We thought she did.” But she couldn’t fathom the alternative reality they were diving head first in. They were safe. Everybody was safe. Right ? “Ben, what we think is irrelevant. The Barrier’s doing its job. Until we know something for sure, let’s clean this up before gossip starts.”
* * *
Saul vas visibly conflicted as he watched the fairy walk away. He knew her better than anyone else, probably better than he knew himself, and it was clear that he needed to run after her. On the other hand, he couldn’t possibly leave Ben to deal with the corpse on his own. Trying to make up his mind, he glanced at his friend who immediately pointed at the path Farah had followed with a swift motion of the head. Harvey didn’t need to be an empath to read the Specialist’s mind. He was always so concerned with doing the right thing, following orders and honoring his duties as a soldier, that he often needed a push to follow his heart. “Go ! I’ll take care of him.” The smile on the botany teacher’s lips ended up convincing Silva. He turned around and started running in the fairy’s footsteps.
Farah Dowling was walking fast, making huge strides towards the school. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her breathing short. As much as she tried, she couldn’t stop her mind from racing, from imagining the worst. She remembered the war, sixteen years ago, as if it were yesterday. The fear in everyone’s eyes, the pain, the exhaustion. The losses and the grief. And the guilt.
She was so immersed in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear the approaching man and was startled when she felt his hand on the small of her back. She didn’t need to meet his eyes to recognize Saul, didn’t need to use her powers either. The touch was unmistakably his, and so was the smell. The surprise soon turned into comfort and relief. Very few people could understand how she was feeling. The weight of responsibility, heavy on her shoulders. They have dozens of kids who need protection, who rely on them. Little fairies and specialists in training, the future of the Otherworld, most of whom were born after the last Burned One’s sighting and haven’t known anything but peace and opulence.
After a few minutes of silence, Farah looked at the headmaster. “Saul… I’m…” scared. The word died in her throat. She couldn’t admit it out loud, it would make everything more real. “I know.” Silva’s voice, like Dowling’s, was weak and croaky, yet it made her feel at ease. He’s been able to read her for years, knowing that she would only snap at him when she felt afraid or insecure. “Me too, love. Me too.” Neither seemed to notice the affectionate nickname he let slip like he often does when he is too preoccupied to be careful. Or maybe they did, and chose to pretend otherwise, both too comfortable with the in-between they’ve been trapped in for decades to truly embrace their feelings.