Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ACT ONE: PROPHECIES

CHAPTER ONE

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RANDVI PLUCKED the last orange colored flower from the woods just outside of her village.

Her lips turned upwards as she swirled the stem between her thumb and middle finger, the petals turning, the sun casting through the holes in the tree tops against the colorful petal. She had woken up bright and early, for tomorrow was her eighteenth name day, and tomorrow held the final say of what was held for her future.

Once a Fire Fae reaches the age of maturity, and their magic has fully blossomed but yet untapped into its full potential, the fey born from fire undergo a test of tranquility. Randvi remembered the day that her best-friend Astrid had taken the test and unfortunately failed.

Astrid didn't do anything wrong. That was not the true meaning of the test that all fae born from fire had to take. It was a telling from the Hidden. The Hidden was able to tap into the mindset of a Fire Fae, and could reveal if they would be able to control her chaos and become a protector for the Mystic Tree. Once a Fey passed the test, from there they would be taught the old magic and how to control their own human emotions.

Randvi began to walk down the path of small stones, grass had been starting to grow through the cracks of the stone as the path was beginning to overgrow. A basket of flowers hanging from the handle hooked into her right arm. Her mother, Sora had passed the test of the Elders but her father was not so lucky. Randvi wondered if she would be so lucky as to whether or not she would follow in her mother's footsteps and become a protector, a guide to those within her village.

Grass had already been laid out in the flat field, the grass had been dead for weeks but new grass was starting to sprout underneath, reaching forward to grasp the taste of fresh air. The grass was laid in a spiraling circle fashion, with 4 other circles around it to showcase the four elements of magic. Randvi started to place the flowers amongst the right spiral: red for fire, blue for water, white for air, and green for earth.

Randvi understood that the Hidden barely answered prayers but it was tradition to call upon them for their strength to guide each fey through the test: whether or not they heard the call or not.

The forest began to quiet down as Randvi finished placing the last green flower on top of the ending spiral design, and that is when the feeling of dread began to bubble inside of her, like a hum in the bottom of her stomach, throbbing but the forest was still and calm. Randvi knew what the Hidden felt like but this time, it was different. Every race felt the magic differently and for the Fire Fae, they began to feel the tingle sensation in their hands, where their skin would change temperature first.

Randvi turned her head to look around, the forest was dark and the only source of light was the hole in the canopy of trees above her, the sun shining down directly in the middle of the circles. Her heart was racing, thrumming against her ribcage. She did not know if this was from fear of summoning the Hidden, or the anticipation of what was held for tomorrow.

Randvi took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her growing anxiousness but she could already feel her magic in her fingertips. The bottle . . her mother would whisper to her in the night when she was a child. Pour your emotions in an endless bottle and when you summon your magic, let the bottle empty. Randvi focused on her mother's words as the magic igniting her fingers began to dwindle to nothing but a dull sensation.

Kneeling in the middle of the four circles, Randvi sat with her legs crossed over one another before raising her head to the sky. "Elder Ones," she began her prayer and like her mother taught her, imaged the bottle twisting open, pouring her magic out of the bottle. "I've come to you today for the strength and tranquility to endure the ultimate test before the Mystic Tree." Her eyes flashed open, the purple iris' that she had been born with were no more, and instead replaced with a see-through white. Randvi reached through the sky with her magic, and soon the air around her grew thick and the clouds began to darken over her. The light spilling in from above took a sharpness, like the fires from a forge, and tiny sparks plumed away from the light to dance in the air.

"Brother, Mother, Sister, Father, and Elder: translate my desires and pleadings, for then I may pass the test of righteousness and my path will be laid out before me, and that I may suppress my chaos. For my magic is to be wielded to serve the Mystic Tree, to protect your sacrifices and the Magic of Old."

When Fire Fae summoned their magic, they were truly a sight to behold. A white light coming from the heavens above encased their skin, and markings etched into their skin glowed a bright white and spread over her whole body. Randvi's back bent backwards at an odd angle as her hair flew with the wind and the flowers laid out around her, lifted from the grass and danced around her in the air.

"A protector of the Mystic Tree is one with the land, as enduring as the Great River and true as Arawn's bow. We are born in the dawn, to pass in the twilight on a bed of coals for we are fire-born."

Randvi had completed her séance but that did not stop her magic from flowing through the wind, like the sound of an arrow cutting through the wind. Her eyes were glowing white as she started breathing hard, freight began to overtake her senses. The bottle. The bottle, Randvi. But it didn't want to go into the bottle, it wanted to dance against the wind. The brunette placed her hands on either side of her, flattening her palms against the grass. Sparks flew out of her fingers as her hands began to glow red, with magic as hot as lava.

Then, the wind stopped. It just stopped with no warning and everything around the tiny fey returned to normal. Randvi took a moment to regulate her breathing as her heart was still slamming against its cage, and a slight throb was in the center of her forehead. Once her eyes opened, she soon realized the destruction she had caused. She sat in the middle of a scorched field, black with ashes from the dried grass and the flowers mixed in.

Randvi couldn't breathe as she looked at the grass, the scent of burnt hay filled the air around her and surely someone would see the smoke rising from the village behind her. She had trained and trained to keep her magic controllable, but now she was running out of time to show she was strong. She had successfully called the hidden but her magic spiraled out of control while ending the summoning.

Randvi quickly stood up from her sitting position and dusted the soot off her white dress but the black ashes wouldn't come off. She rapidly began to scrub the soot from the layers of thick cloth she wore, and once again, she could feel her fingers getting hot with magic.

Randvi let go of her dress and put her eyes to the sky, pleading with the old gods to calm her magic once again. She felt powerless against her own nature, a simple emotion summoned the magic flowing through her veins. The white trails of embedded magic began to disappear from her body and with one last heavy breath, her magic stilled.

On unsteady legs, Randvi began to walk back to the village with her empty basket hanging from her forearm. The basket had been burnt from the fire she had caused but whatever they could salvage, they would reuse it for something else. Supplies were always limited in Rockwell, since the Fire Faes rarely walked for trade but they made do with every harvest and the forests surrounding the village had plenty.

The Moonwings would sometimes fly over their village from the south, and drop supplies off when the moon was high in the night sky. Rarely, did the Summoners from her village walk down the paths to the Sky Folk for trading.

Upon entering the stone gate that Randvi closed up behind her, the village was busy with fey's out and about doing chores. Randvi quickly moved to the side as a fisherman, carrying his tackle and pole and leaving through the gate and towards the pond that Randvi always swam in when she was younger. She hadn't visited the watering hole in some time.

Astrid, Randvi's best friend, was tall and had a tattoo going down the front of her neck. Astrid spotted the fey girl walking through the village with the burnt brown basket in her hand, looking broken.

"Randvi!" Astrid dropped her shovel from clearing rocks off the farmer's field and caught up with Randvi, who caught her gaze. Astrid had always had these pretty pale blue eyes which were uncommon amongst the fire fae who usually sported the violet or an angry red color. Something to remind everyone around them, that they were not human.

Randvi stopped to walk a comfortable pace for Astrid to follow her towards the mountain, where her home was dug into the rock. "What happened?" Astrid questioned her upon looking at her face.

"I believe I butchered the séance." Randvi's words were muttered out of disappointment. Astrid turned to look at her, her own features softened while looking at the fallen expression over Randvi's. "I lit the element rune on fire." she gestured towards the basket she was carrying, the woven branches were singed.

Astrid's thin eyebrows rose on her forehead as they walked together, climbing up the steps of the mountain and towards Randvi's small hovel that she shared with her parents. "That's new," Astrid cringed silently when Randvi's back was turned, "don't think anyone has done that . ."

Randvi turned her body around to look back at her friend, and gave her a disapproving stare. "That's not making this situation any better, Astrid!" she hissed at her friend and sat down on the large wooden box near the table.

Astrid's expression softened as she walked over to her friend, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up over this, Randvi. You know that passing the test is rare." Randvi moved aside as Astrid sat down on the box with her. Even though there was barely enough room for Randvi alone, the both of them still managed to sit together.

Randvi sighed out as Astrid put an arm over her shoulders to tug the fey closer, "Easy for you to say; no one in your family is a summoner." Astrid watched her lift herself off the box. It was true, Astrid's family did not pass the test but the girl had more control over her magic than Randvi did.

She felt the need to make her mother proud by becoming another summoner and joining her mom with protecting the Mystic Tree. She didn't want to disappoint her mother by not passing the test even though her mom expressed that it was going to be alright if she didn't pass. Sora always told her that. She wouldn't think less of her for not passing but Randvi didn't believe that.

"Listen, I think you're one of the most powerful people I have ever met." Astrid's soft words sliced through the silence, and Randvi looked up at her. "If anyone is going to pass the test: it would be you."

Randvi feigned a smile as Astrid looked down upon her with a reassuring expression. She knew she had to have hope, if she didn't have that, Randvi was not sure if she even stood a chance. She had to believe in the bottle, in herself

Chapter Text

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ACT ONE: PROPHECIES

CHAPTER TWO

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A SOFTENED MOAN filled the quiet spacious home as Randvi twisted and turned in her bed. Her forehead drenched with sweat, and her skin; sticky and hot. A candle sat on the family table, the wax was still warm suggesting the flame had gone out a few minutes before Randvi started to cry out in her sleep.

A young man filled her dreams. A man that held no remorse of any kind. A man that had markings, a red tinge under his eyes, streaming down his soft skin and over his cheeks like fallen tears. Randvi had been having these dreams more frequently now, and they have come almost every night, sometimes in the shape of a man with fire reflecting in his cold blue eyes. Sometimes, a blur of red flying across her line of sight. She could hear words that weren't her own, weren't of this world and of her language. They whispered her secrets — of what — she did not know.

Her mother would always explain that these dreams meant she was connected with the Hidden. That these dreams held so much power within them but every time Randvi would have these dreams, they seemed more like nightmares than her untold future.

While Randvi's breathing began to increase, her mother, Sora, had woken up from her light slumber. She could hear her daughter's soft muffled cries from across the room, and began to walk towards her sleeping frame. Sora placed a hand onto her daughter's forehead, feeling her slight fever, her forehead slick with cold sweat.

"Randvi." Sora called out in the dark without any luck, and then started to rock the sleeping Randvi even more roughly as she repeated her name louder. Randvi quickly woke up with a start, body shaking and her lungs gasping for air. Her wild purple eyes roamed around the room until they met the calm yet worried eyes of her mother.

"When will these dreams end?" Randvi's words cut through her mother's heart like a sharp knife. The brokenness of her daughter's words, the sight of her small body shaking with freight from whatever the Hidden shown in her dreams. She wished she could take them away and experience them herself, maybe she could make sense of what her daughter couldn't.

Sora wanted to believe that her daughter was made for great things. She knew she was brought into this world with an unworldly situation. Sora had almost bled to death on the birthing bed, and she should have died but she somehow, someway, she had survived. Since that night, she had always told her daughter that the dreams the hidden showed her were good, that they were telling her the destiny she was meant to fulfill. But Randi barely spoke about them, and most of her excuses of not explaining further would be that she had forgotten them once she woke. Sora knew better, but she never pushed her daughter further. She knew Randvi will speak about them when she was ready and Sora would be there when that time would come, and help her achieve the greatness she was always meant to get.

Sora guided her daughter's head towards her chest, embracing her while stroking her wet hair. "I don't know, my child." Sora told her soothingly, and then got off the bed to walk towards the stone table. She grabbed a small bowl then stirred her fingers until water began to appear, filling the empty space. Sora then walked back towards her daughter with a small cloth in hand.

She dipped into the cold water and then placed it over Randvi's forehead. "Would you like to talk about your dreams?" she questioned her softly, but Randvi shook her head and Sora was left with a sad expression but she understood.

The room was silent except for her father's small snores coming from the other side of the home. Randvi's father had always been a heavy sleeper, able to sleep through most storms and Randvi was sometimes envious about that fact. A simple stray of sunlight peeping through the window was enough to stir her out of bed. Randvi let her mother wipe away the sweat from her face, finding comfort in the slight hums coming from her mother's lips and then the birds coming alive outside of her window. The morning was approaching over the horizon, making the sky swirl with orange and pink hues as the sun kissed the earth before reaching the blue sky.

Sora's own purple gaze met the window and gazed outside in the darkness. A stray of orange and pink just touching the ground. She then kissed her daughter's warm skin and placed the damp washcloth back into the bowl. Randvi looked upwards with a small appreciative smile and Sora leaned in towards her, placing a small chaste kiss against her forehead. "Happy birthday, my fire." she murmured softly against her skin then she put the bowl on the floor.

Sora took out of the nicer tunic dresses that she had sown earlier this week, in fact, for this very moment. Randvi watched her with curious eyes as she walked back over and placed the dress in front of her. Her violet eyes brightened as she touched the fabric, black and white stripes of dyed wool were sown together, and the top of the dress was left bare, tiny little holes letting the skin show through.

"You must meet us at the tree before the sun touches the sky," Sora informed her while watching her daughter smooth the fabric over her fingers. "I have to help prepare the ceremony with the summoners." Randvi nods towards her mother without saying anything as her mother shakes her father's sleeping frame.

Randvi's home fell silent once again as Sora stepped outside, only her father's stirring filling her ears. The home was dark without any windows present in the back of the house, only two windows were built into the home, beside the door. It barely let any light inside in the early mornings, but Randvi didn't mind. This is how she had always lived.

Years ago, her ancestors that had first found this place had dug into the side of the mountain, and built their homes out of stone. In fear that they would burn their homes that were made out of wood. Only the summoners, who could suppress their magic going astray could live peacefully in a house made out of flammable wood.

The homes were cold and mostly damp with almost no light but for Randvi; it was all she knew since she was brought into this world. Randvi tiptoed towards the wash bucket in a separate room to wash around her neck, and under her arms. Randvi pulled a pair of wool leggings over her legs, then pulled the tunic style dress over her body.

Her father, Myror, rose from the bed and before Randvi could move towards the coat holders, her father smiled at her and placed a kiss on her forehead. "I know you will make this family proud today." he spoke with hope in his eyes which made Randvi silently wince.

"I really hope I can." Randvi spoke with uncertainty, which her father responded with a warm hand on her shoulder.

"I know you can." He told her. Myror then pulled his daughter's cloak from it's holder. With the assistance of her blue cloak, Randvi was out of the house, exiting the home and walking down to the bridges that connected to the pathways.

Randvi noticed how peaceful it was in the early mornings. Not many other fey's were awake at this hour, and the only ones who were awake were the farmers and the woodcutters. Tending the fields took a good chunk of time, and it was better to start off in the early hours and be done by the time the sun reached its peak.

Randvi quickly noticed how quiet the forest was when she stepped onto solid ground, and the clouds coming from overhead. She couldn't feel rain but the aura surrounding the village was hard to not notice. Randvi rose her head to the sky, her violet orbs took in the darkening sky and then to the north, a group of ravens flying in a spiraling circle fashion. She scrunches her nose in confusion for a moment but then carries on with moving forward.

The Mystic Tree sat near the entrance of the Village of Rockwell. The tree was inhumanly large, with its gigantic branches reaching the clouds, the leaves making a canopy of a green roof where the altar laid on top of its flat trunk. Bright yellow light was illuminated from the very top where Randvi assumed the Summoners had gathered and made preparations for her ceremony. Younger Fey were not permitted to climb to the top of the Mystic Tree, only those reaching the age of eighteen were allowed for their own summoning, and if they did not pass: it would be the last time they would ever make the climb.

Randvi's small hand grabbed part of the trunk that branched off towards the ground, making an overhang with its large root as it disappeared beneath the dirt. Each limb had been decorated with a lamp, making the tree look even more mystical. A stretch of stairs circled around the massive trunk guiding the climber towards the top. Randvi climbed and climbed until her legs began to feel like jelly and her breathing started to get shallow, out of breath as she passed a few houses.

Everytime a summoner had been chosen by the Hidden, another home would be built into the tree. Summoner's would whisper around the village that the Tree built the home overnight, the branches of the tree weaving itself into a magical hut.

Randvi let her gaze drop from the leaves once she reached the top of the tree. The huge opening was a platform, boards of raw wood were placed under her feet as she walked into the space. Lanterns littered the top of the tree, illuminating the dark place with magical lighting. Her eyes danced around the raised platform towards the north end of the tree, where plenty of bowls filled with different herbs, berries, and other liquids that Randvi didn't recognize in color.

"Come child." One of the older summoners called towards the south end of the tree, and Randvi turned her head to gaze upon them. Eight Fire Faes bowed their heads before her, their emerald blue cloaks hiding their faces from her even more.

Randvi wished she could see more of the Mystic Tree for this would possibly be the last time she would see the glorious and magical tree with her own eyes but she couldn't gaze upon it. The sun was rising in the sky and the ceremony had to be completed before it touched the blue.

The Arch Druid came into view, the man dressed in the finest of fabric. His tired and old face was pleasant and comfortable as he held out his hand for Randvi to take. Randvi gazed into the group of eight, until her eyes fell upon her mother's hopeful gleam. Sora nodded towards her daughter and with a hesitant step, Randvi walked forward.

"As Fire Faes we give thanks to the fire who brought us into this world. We are born in the dawn . . ." The man raised his head towards the sky, looking to call to the Hidden with his words. " . . to pass in the twilight on a bed of coals, for we are fire-born." the elders answered in unison.

The Arch Druid passes Randvi the sacrificial knife and then she walks towards the bed of shimmering coals placed into a small dip carved into the altar. Randvi looks to her mother once again while the Summoner's all look at her, waiting, and Sora gives her the nod once again. Randvi then looked down at her palms, one had already been cut from the summoning that was held yesterday, so she switched the knife to the other hand. Randvi placed the sharp blade against her palm and let the knife cut deep into her palm, making the fey wince in response.

Randvi then placed her hand above the hot coals, fisting her hand closed. The red liquid bled through the crevices of her palm and down her arm before letting a few drops of blood hit the coals. A sizzling noise filled everyone's ears and then everyone's eyes closed. After a moment, glowing marks of magic started to slither up the summoner's faces, sliding against the curve of their cheeks and up towards their closed eyes.

The markings appeared on Randvi's flesh, beneath her clothed body and then each finger started to glow. Over the curve of her cheeks, then hiding beneath her raven colored hair to travel it's way down the bridge of her nose. Randvi's eyes glowed a milky white, and then her eyes shot towards the sky, open and wide.

"The Hidden flows through you, let it take control." The druid's wise words filled her ears and then his words faded into something she did not understand, something ancient. Randvi could feel the warmth overtaking her skin and the feeling of lightness in her belly, almost like the hidden could take her off her feet and make her fly.

A scream bellowed from down below, coming from the belly, raw and horrifying. Randvi collapsed onto her knees as the Hidden quickly made the escape from her senses, and left her with a clouded mind. She could hear the yelling of the summoners from atop as her eyesight returned to normal, and she glanced upon her mother's face.

"THEY'RE ATTACKING FROM THE SOUTH!" One of the Summoner's yelled out as he glanced down upon the scene, men on white horses galloping into the village with steel in their hands.

Randvi looked towards the man, who vanished from thin air and then appeared like a small dot at the bottom of the tree as she hurried to the edge to take a look herself. Randvi's violet eyes widened in horror as she saw the black smoke begin to rise like a column, coming from the farmland.

"What is happening?!" Randvi called to her mother, her body shuttering in fear as the screams of her village roared throughout the forest.

Sora quickly grabbed onto her daughter's arms and dragged her from the edge of the trunk, and then quickly explained. "The Red Paladins have found us, you need to get to safety." Sora told her daughter but she wasn't listening, Randvi's gaze was frozen on the black smoke rising to the clouds. Sora shook her daughters shoulders, "Are you listening to me!"

Randvi shook her head frantically as the screams rang out around them, "No, I won't leave you to die here!" her voice was wobbly out of freight, not confident and high pitched.

Randvi's mother didn't wait to hear anything else from her daughter, her eyes glowing a white while the markings began to appear on her skin. "You must go, warn Dewdenn of what's happening here!" she yelled out before her mother disappeared and teleported to the bottom of the tree.

Randvi picked up her skirts and started running down the bridge, her mind racing and her heart drums its own panicked throb inside her chest, faster and faster until her mouth tastes metallic. Randvi makes a false step down the bridges circling around the tree and flies forwards, knees scraping against the wood and sending her flying down the stairs. Her hand reaches out, clawing at the wood which makes splinters cut into the tips of her fingers as her body hangs off the edge. Randvi doesn't dare take a look of how far off the ground she is, and instead she swings her left leg to the side, lifting her body upwards until her knee touches solid wood.

Randvi's hand reaches out, for something, anything to grab on to lift her up and onto the bridge. Her fingers twist into the holes between the wooden planks and she feels her fingers bend at an awkward angle which makes her cringe but she proceeds to lift her body, rolling onto the wood. Randvi cradles her left hand, her fingers red and her pinky twisted to the side.

Randvi takes her finger and yanks it to the side, making a loud cracking noise and a scream echo through her lips. She hurries down the rest of the way where the real chaos laid.

For most of her life, Randvi believed that real chaos came from the Fire Faes own fingertips but with what she was witnessing here today: that was the ultimate terror. Ashes littered the earth, and charred bodies had been tied to wooden crosses at the east of the village, where most of the screams were coming from. Red, hot, angry flames reflected inside of Randvi's violent eyes as she watched in horror, frozen in place from the true chaos. Men on silver steeds, wearing the color red stormed through the village, sword hands high in the sky as they cursed on those they called 'demon born.'

Randvi's eyes searched the ashes and soon, the realization of her current situation finally dawned on her. This was real and it was happening in front of her. "Astrid!" she called out through the screams of the tormented. "Astrid!!"

Hot tears streamed down her face as Randvi made her way through the village, dodging the men on horses. Then, someone had grabbed her dark curls from behind and Randvi reached her hands behind her, grabbing onto the wrists of her attacker, and her skin ignited with warmth and soon, his screams filled her ears. The Red Paladin grabbed his hands away but Randvi turned her body and grabbed onto his red coat, and he looked upon her beautiful face but her eyes were a glowing white as her skin burned like real fire. Randvi gripped onto the sides of his neck, and closed her fist as hard as she could as his flesh sizzled when she touched his skin and he screamed out in pain.

Randvi then let him slide down to his feet, his body shaking out in pain while third degree burns kissed the left side of his face, starting at his neck and ending at his lips. His skin was kissed purple and black from charred flesh and Randvi moved her neck to look around the village before seeing Astrid fighting them off, her own eyes glowing a white hue.

Randvi picked up her pace and ran towards the girl on the other side of the village. Randvi threaded through the ashes, and the ground squelched with each step she took through the blood mixed with the dirt. One of the woodworkers from her village, Biette, a sturdy block of a woman, fought against one of the Red Paladins, until he threw down his large club against her skull and Randvi covered her mouth in shock. Her skull split in two right in front of her eyes, and the blood, brain matter, and whatever else splattered onto her face as he turned to face her next.

Randvi felt the liquid in her stomach start to travel up her throat as she blinked, feeling the brain matter slide down her face. The Fire Fae quickly turned and spilled nothing but bile from her stomach into a pile of hay. Randvi then looked towards the Red Paladin. Her violet eyes reached his own sinful ones, and she took a step back. The man grinned wickedly as he stalked after her. Randvi's heart sunk in her chest just when her back hit something solid, and right then and there, she knew this would be her end.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she closed her eyes, letting her fate finally sink in. She thought that having a sword go through her body was better than burning at the stake. She prepared for the blow of the sword, the ripping feeling of the blade embedding itself into her body but it didn't come. She heard the sword whistle against the wind, and then a noise in front of her. Her violet eyes opened, in front of her was the Red Paladin. He had taken her fate instead. In his abdomen, a sword was sticking out of his belly, and Randvi felt like she needed to throw up again.

Randvi touched her cheek and then looked down at her hand, blood drenched her fingers as the man slumped to the ground in front of her. Her eyes followed the tall statue of Astrid standing behind him, her hand extended for the taking. "We have to go, Randvi. These people are going to slaughter us all."

Her fingers found Astrid's palm and the woman pulled her upwards and into her body. "Have you seen my mother and father?" Randvi questions her, looking around the village while trying to drown out the screams. Randvi reached for her friend's hand while running through the burning village.

Astrid shakes her head at the question. "Last time I saw your mother, she was fighting them off. I haven't seen your father." Randvi could feel the squeeze of reassurance from Astrid but she was not sure even that could help her right now.

In front of her eyes, her village was on fire. Men and Women were fighting to keep their children safe, no matter the cost. And the children were left defenseless. For a moment, they had stopped running to gain their breath for Astrid couldn't breathe with so much smoke in the air from the wheat fields burning. From the south, Randvi could see the stretch of fire feeding off of the forest, and burning towards where the Moonwings resided.

Randvi turned her head back around to look at the brunette, but her gaze focused on the Red Paladin running towards them, his sword hand raised and ready to strike the both of them down. "Astrid, watch out!" Randvi grabs hold of Astrid, and then yanks the girl behind her.

Randvi raises her hand in the air to somehow shield the blow, but instead of meeting her doom, magic crackles from her palm and the Paladin is sent flying backwards.

SNAP.

Both of their eyes widen in horror as the Red Paladin collides with a tree. The stump splits in half along with the body, and the roots rip from the ground from the force of collision. Randvi lets out a shaky breath as the exposed roots lay on the dirt, then her eyes travel down towards her hands. Magical white veins shimmer in the cloud of smoke, trailing from her fingertips, to the lines in her palm, and under her clothes. Ebony locks fly in the wind as Randvi turns her head to look at her friend, who meets her gaze with a jealous expression.

"Your magic surprises me every time you use it." Astrid lets out a breathy laugh but her smile is wiped from her face when the noise of more screaming reaches her ears.

Astrid always knew that the magic that ran through Randvi's soul was unlike anything she had ever seen in her lifetime. Her magic was powerful, and the Elder Druid told Sora that she was blessed with the Hidden from birth, but the power in Randvi's hands always made her uneasy. Randvi wasn't afraid of using her magic for the lesser evil, but the things her magic could do when it spiraled out of control ― was something not of this world entirely.

Astrid and Randvi made another run for it, sprinting across the village and towards the screams. The Red Paladins were everywhere now. Swarming like bees to a nest, their billowing robes dancing with the flames. Astrid abruptly stops in front of a white stallion, hoofs raised in the air as Astrid startled the large animal. Randvi hits Astrid's back with such force, that the girl is sent flying backwards in the mud below.

Astrid crawls under the horses hooves as the large animal whines, while Randvi struggles to get herself out of the mud. Her ebony curls caked with blood as she lifts her body forwards and onto her knees. She looks up at the white stallion as it gallops forwards when boots are pressed into it's sides and Randvi crawls forwards. Astrid's hand is extended towards her desperately as Randvi reaches after the horse clears the path between them.

Their fingers brush slightly. Randvi glances up at Astrid's face and her expression changes immediately when she notices the pain flashing across the girl's face, and the widening of her eyes. The world felt like it slowed down as the sword was pushed further into Astrid's shoulder, and the blood splatters over the already stained earth.

Randvi watches as Astrid staggers forward while a groan slips through her lips. Randvi's heart plunges into the pit of her stomach before her eyes leave Astrid's falling frame, and towards the Red Paladin who sheaths his sword from her body, his boot stamping on her back.

Randvi's chin wobbles as her nose twitches from the fury she feels in this moment. It consumes her, just like fire consumes the earth until it's left with nothing else to touch. Red, hot angry flames sputter out of her fingertips and it claws towards the Red Paladin, looking for something to consume with the fury of it's caster. The man screams as it licks his skin, sending a hot searing pain throughout his whole body. Randvi watches for a moment, as his eyes glance upon hers before Randvi flexes her fingers and sends the man flying out of sight.

Her magic settles into nothing after a moment, but the remains of the fire leaves a trail in the mud as it burns within other bodies in its path. Randvi doesn't care, she looks back towards her friend laying on the ground, and her heart shatters into a million pieces.

"Astrid . . no!" Randvi crawls towards her in the mud, her knees getting wet from the blood underneath her dress. The shriek that comes from Randvi's mouth is earth-moving, shaking the very core of the Hidden, the skies above, and the pits of death below. It's heartbreaking, gut-wrenching and the sheer power it holds, shakes the world around her.

A strong wind comes from her body, lifting her hair with it as the people around her lose their footing and stumble to the ground from the blast. Astrid looks up at her face as Randvi cries, cradling her head in her lap while she tugs on her tunic to drag her under the roof of the farm house. They weren't hidden by any means, but at least her flank was covered.

"Randvi . . " Astrid's words are a whisper as Randvi looks down at her, watching as blood bubbles up from her mouth with each word she speaks next. "you. . must.. leave." Randvi's tears touch Astrid's cheeks as she shakes her head and a painful sob escapes from her lips. "..you.. must save . . yourself, go!"

Randvi stares down as tears cloud her vision, "I can't leave you — I can't." she sobs while rocking her friend back and forth, her eyes rapidly going to Astrid's shining eyes, the wound, and their hands interlocked. "You need to teleport out of here," Randvi tells her while placing her hands on Astrid's wound, feeling the blood pour out from the deep cut. "you must do it, no matter the cost."

"I will die." Astrid coughs while Randvi lifts her head to look upon the scorched village, red paladins running around her. The village is a ruin of its former self, burning with angry flames but the Mystic Tree stands tall throughout the chaos.

"You'll die if you don't try." Randvi knew the risks of inexperienced Fae using their unique teleportation ability. Most of them would die without proper training from the Druid, but at this moment - Astrid had nothing to lose. Randvi knew she was going to die whether she tried or not.

Randvi sets Astrid's head back onto the dirt, and she sees Astrid's eyes glow a white before she disappears in thin air. She doesn't know if she would make it and how far the teleport spell would take her but she hopes that it will at least take her away from the village. Randvi wants to cry over the loss of her best friend but she knows she cannot stay because she would perish like the rest of her village.

Randvi's quick feet moved quickly under her until her eyes were glued onto a man on top of a horse, his black coat blended into the dark smoke in the air as he rode with confidence into the burning village. Randvi felt the air leave her lungs when he strode towards an older man. Randvi didn't know this man, dressed in red, and she didn't want to. She knew that whenever he went, chaos followed, and she didn't want to be in his line of sight.

The Fire Faes might have lived in isolation but they heard the rumors of the man dressed in grey following the Red Paladins. The man dressed in red turned to gaze upon the incoming rider, with pride in his eyes as the grey rider stepped off his horse. Randvi didn't get to see him under his cloak, most of the hood covering his facial features, but he was tall and broad-shouldered. His cloak covered in dirt and soot. Randvi could not hear the words coming from the man's mouth, but the man in grey bowed before the man in red.

Randvi decided that she couldn't stay here any longer. She was no longer safe now that the man in grey had arrived. She heard the tales of the cloaked warrior, fearsome and brave, calculated and merciless. If he was there, that meant the total annihilation to her village — there will be no survivors.

Randvi took a deep breath and grabbed her skirts, starting off with a sprint towards the prayer circle on the north end of the woods. She couldn't look back and she wouldn't, no matter how horrible the screams were. Upon arriving at the tree-line, Sora was sitting in the middle of what the element ruin would lie.

For a moment, she looked to be okay but once Randvi got closer, she soon realized the blood seeping through her white dress. "Mom!" Randvi called out, running as fast as her legs could possibly take her.

Randvi skidded against the earth below, her hands resting on her mother's shoulders as she inspected the wound on her mother's stomach. It was deep and the wound had bled all over the ground beneath her.

Is this what the Hidden had in store for her? Death and destruction?

Randvi shook her head and cried while placing her cold palms against her mother's cheeks, as Sora reached up with unsteady hands. "My fire, you cannot stay here." her voice was growing weak from the loss of blood but Randvi could tell she was holding on to whatever life line she had left.

"But mom, I cannot let you die." Sora's hands reached up to grab onto her daughter's cheeks, and then rested them there until Randvi placed her hands on top of her mothers, taking them off of her cheeks and placing them against her mother's chest.

"I'm already gone, child." Sora smiled weakly. She was not afraid of death, she prepared for it since she saw what the Hidden had in store for her future. This was the end of her story, but Randvi's had just begun. "Listen to me, you must find the Sword of Power and protect it."

"The Sword of Power?" Randvi shakes her head, her eyes holding confusion but Sora takes hold of Randvi's arms. She had heard the stories of the sword but they were just that — mere stories told to children before their bedtime.

Randvi studied her mother's face, her hair was wild and her cheeks began to pale. But her eyes, still shining like they had so much life in them, and so calm. Randvi wondered if her mother knew the seriousness of her own injury, if she knew she was truly dying. "You must find Gawain, he will know where the sword resides. This is your history, my fire. Follow the Hidden's messages."

Sora watched her daughter's face change with a million different expressions: confusion, anger, sadness, horror. Randvi looked upon her mother's face, watching her eyes close and she reached down. Tears escaped from her eyes as she didn't move from her touch, her body felt heavier against Randvi's legs, and then the realization began to sink in. Randvi bent down while sobs escaped her mouth, her mouth landing onto her mother's forehead.

Randvi slowly moves her mother's body off of her legs, and places her hands together on her chest. She dug her fingertips into the grass and soon, green began to grow around her mother. Flowers littered around her body, small and red sprouted as they devoured her mother into the ground below her.

Once her mother's body is consumed by the magic of the Earth, Randvi picks herself off of the ground while tears ran down her cheeks. Randvi looks to the sky, the amount of smoke overhead and then towards the forest ahead of her. She had never left the village but she knew the forests had ruins carved into the trees, and images in the leaves if you looked closely enough. She didn't know the direction of the next village but with a careful eye, the forest would tell her.

Randvi pushed on, leaving the horror and chaos that had befallen to her village. Years of living in isolation, believing that no other living person could find their village, only for someone to find them and leave a painful memory of where the village once stood. Without looking back, Randvi left a trail of scorched footprints behind her, along with a tiny scroll with the magic of old left behind from her mother's grasp before the Earth consumed her whole.

Chapter Text

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ACT ONE: PROPHECIES

CHAPTER THREE

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RANDVI CAN FEEL THE BURN IN HER LUNGS. She isn't sure if it's from the amount of running that she did to get enough distance between her and the Red Paladins, or the amount of smoke she inhaled. She was not even sure how long she had been running, but she knew she couldn't stop. Her life depended on both of her legs moving.

Ebony colored locks flew in the wind with every step she took through the trees. She could still smell the smoke in the air but it wasn't as strong as it once was. Her heart was ramming inside of her chest, and she was sure the trees could hear the echo of the beating muscle.

Randvi's feet barely touched the ground as she continued forwards. Her mother had taught her how to walk across the forest ground without making any noise. Each step was with precision, only the tips of her boots touched the soil as she whipped past the trees. But she had calculated one step wrong, and her boot slipped as she stepped onto and over a large stone. The tops of her toes hit an indent in the rock, and Randvi lost her balance and tripped.

Her knees skid against the earth, ripping part of her dress on the way down a steep hill. Randvi let out a groan as the back of her head banged off of a tree trunk, sending her body to the left, then rolling further down the hill. Her ankle twisted as her body launched forward as she reached the bottom, head first into the soil, fingernails deep into the dirt as she tried to stop herself from rolling any further.

Randvi gasped for air, coughing as she tried to get air back into her lungs. The fey girl rolled onto her back, violet eyes staring up at the canopy of green leaves, untouched by the fire. Her head was hammering, a dull ache at the back of her head as something wet rolled down the length of her neck. With unsteady hands, she rolled onto her stomach and lifted herself off of the ground. The ache in her ankle coming to life as she tried to shift her weight onto her other foot.

Randvi took a moment to look around, but her vision was blurry from the impact of hitting the tree. Her mind was dazed as she reached back to cup the back of her head with her hand, feeling wetness under her palm while she looked towards the trees. She couldn't see any of the fey symbols that so many talked about, nothing carved into the trees to tell her where she should go.

Randvi was alone, and terribly lost.

She was already exhausted and wasn't sure if she could push on any further. Randvi breathed heavy as she tried to take a step forward, but her ankle gave out from under her. The pain felt like electricity flying up through her nerves as she tumbled to the ground once again. She was out of options at this point.

Randvi could either crawl and hide in a stump, but she knew she was right in the Paladin's way if they decided they were heading North. There was no way of knowing whether or not they would light the whole forest on fire as they walked, and Randvi did not want to risk getting caught in a flaming forest. She knew if they found her, she would be defenseless without the use of both legs.

The only option that she had left was to teleport, and that kind of magic had its own consequences. Randvi had never been physically taught on how to teleport. She had only studied the ways in the books, when she attended her mother's teachings. Only Fire Fae's were able to teleport, and even then, the magic was unpredictable unless you were powerful enough to withstand your soul partly going through the Hidden.

Randvi thought about it. She could either stay here and die, or teleport and possibly die from magic exhaustion.

To her, the answer was clear.

Randvi took a breath to calm her dazed mind, then closed her eyes while summoning her magic. Soon, her finger tips began to glow into the earth. The threads of the hidden began to mark her face, tiny white veins showing up on her skin as she began to picture the forests surrounding Dewdenn. The magical forest, with tiny fairies camouflaged as little flowers. She could feel something wet touch her cheeks, but she knew she couldn't lose her train of thought.

Randvi began to feel her mind go foggy, and then she slammed into the dirt below.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

A beam of light shined down on her skin as her body swayed back and forth, and Randvi began to stir as the man who had been carrying her spoke words but they were muffled to her ears. Her violet eyes opened slightly, but immediately closed from the light shining back in her blurred gaze.

She began to hear shouting echo in the back of her mind, almost distant but in reality, the shouting was happening right beside her. One of the small girls in the village, watched as the man carried a woman into Dewdenn with severe injuries. This would be the second time today that someone new was brought into the village. The girl looked on with interest, watching as the young woman's face came into view the closer they got. Her complexion was very pale, almost no color to her face as the man struggled to carry her with the burn starting in his arms. Sweat, mixed with blood glistened over her face. The dress she had been wearing was dirty, and ripped in some places, singed from fire.

"We have another injured!" The man's voice bellowed towards the village as he carried her towards the healer's hut, with scouts hurrying towards the Ironwood to inform the Elders.

Randvi felt her back hit something solid and her head rolled to the side, her eyes opening slightly but then closed immediately after. Her lids felt unbelievably heavy, and her lungs were straining to breathe.

A woman stepped inside the hut first, then other Elders followed inside. They had just been gathering healing herbs to replace their storage once they healed the Moon Wings burned flesh, and now another had found their way towards their village.

"She looks human." Randvi could hear the voices of the Elders, but they seemed far away and unreachable. She felt her body tingle as they touched the scars on her hands, and then someone touched her face.

One of her eyes were forced to open, and the blurry image of a woman clouded her vision. Randvi pulled back and groaned weakly before hearing them talk amongst themselves. "This is a Fire Fae." The woman pulled back the girl's hair and turned her head to look at another elder with disbelief. "They haven't been seen in decades."

All of the Elders stopped to take a glance at the weakened girl on the table, her body covered in ash and dirt. Under her eyes, blood had flowed down in the shape of tears. Lenore grabbed the bucket of fresh water that had been placed next to the table, and started to clean the girl's face as she stirred from the coolness against her hot skin.

"Can you hear me?" The woman spoke softly as she cleaned the blood off of Randvi's face. Muffled words came next and then she felt more hands touch her limbs. The elders began to place salves over the cuts in her knuckles before wrapping them with leaves.

Randvi turned her head again towards the voices, and tried to open her mouth to talk but the words she said in her mind, didn't come out. The woman knew she could understand her but couldn't find the strength to talk, and she quickly took the girl's hand and squeezed. "You're in Dewdenn . . my name is Lenore." The woman informed her, and Randvi's eyes began to move behind her closed lids at the sound of her voice.

"We have a twisted ankle, Lenore." One of the elders, Felix, warned her once he had removed her boots and saw the angry purple dotting around the bone.

"Don't move anything that might be broken." Lenore warned them. "Any emotion she feels in this state might make her magic go unstable." Lenore instructed the man to instead, wrap the ankle with a soft touch, and to go slow with moving any limbs.

No One of Dewdenn had ever seen a Fire Fae before and those who had, were long passed in the twilight. Lenore had heard of them but most rumors were just that, rumors. Fire Faes hardly traded with anyone else other than the Ash Folk, who had been extinct for a decade. Those that they did share with were just as rare as they were.

Soon, the whispers that there was a Fire Fae found outside the village, carried throughout the small settlement. Many curious villagers stared at the healer's hut with curiosity as Randvi laid there, healing from magic exhaustion, and her small wounds. Lenore was surprised the girl was barely touched by the Red Paladins, assuming most of her wounds came from running and not confronting her attackers upfront.

While Randvi was sleeping, a curious little boy with a fiery personality snuck into the healer's hut while the village mender stepped out to grab more supplies. His eyes traveled towards the girl in a small cot, a bandage wrapped around her ankle and leaves wrapped over her cuts that littered her body.

He had never seen someone like her before, and he had heard the stories that the village would sometimes whisper. Mostly uneducated children that spun horror stories about the feys, but she didn't look terrible like the stories. He had expected her to have wings like the Moon Wings, or horns sticking out of her head. She had neither and looked just like him.

The little boy walked forwards, carefully, as to not make any noise as he approached the cot and looked down at her. She slept peacefully, but her forehead was wrinkled in distress, and her eyes rapidly moved behind closed lids while she slept. He wondered how long she would sleep for, as she had been sleeping for most of the morning since she had arrived. The sun was high at its peak now, and she didn't look like she would stir just yet.

The Healer walked back into the hut with a clean mortar and pestle in his hands, when he looked upwards and saw the little boy's head spinning towards the noise of the door.

"Percival, you shouldn't be in here." The old man scolded him like a little child, putting the object on the small table in the corner before turning his attention back onto the little boy. "these kids need time to heal."

Percival, he hated that name. All of the elders called him that, even though he insisted his name was Squirrel. "I just wanted to look. I'm not harming them in looking, they won't even know I'm here." the little boy grimaced, a flash of annoyance coming across his features.

"She doesn't look very scary, and plenty of stories I've heard, described the Fire Fae as wicked beasts. She looks like a puny girl."

The elder smiled at him for a moment. Such a curious little boy with no thought on his words before he spilled them. "Small and weak she may look, but she's a lot stronger than you think."

Squirrel looked back at the young lady with a curiosity of the unknown. He wished she could wake and he could talk to her. She looked friendly enough. "Is it true that they can burn down forests with just their touch?" he said out loud, turning his head towards the healer.

The old man gave him a face, asking to not ask anymore questions. He had a job to do, and the little boy was taking much of his time. "I'm afraid I don't have time for these questions. Now, run along."

"I just wanted to look at the puny lady!" Squirrel shouted in annoyance as the healer began to lead him towards the door of the hut, and then shutting the door behind him once his feet touched the soil.

Randvi woke to the sound of piteous cries, and for a moment, she wasn't sure where she currently was. She looked around, gazing towards the bowls filled with healing herbs and salves that had been discarded and set away. Randvi then looks down, her ankle had been bandaged with leaves, and then tightly wrapped in a thin cloth. She wasn't sure how long she had been unconscious, had it been minutes, days, weeks?

The noise coming from outside took her from her thoughts, she swung her feet off of the cot and then carefully stepped to the wooden floor. Randvi quickly grabbed her boots as the screaming came more close and with a hurry, grabbed her cloak from the table before pulling it over her shoulders.

Her ankle was still weak but it didn't feel as bad as it did. Randvi limped towards the door and pulled it open. Her violet eyes widened as her eyes traveled to the sky, watching the black smoke rise. Was she dead and reliving her memories of the slaughter? Her answer was clear when a white horse ran in front of her, the coat up in flames and the painful noises coming from its mouth as it ran towards the exit of the village.

Randvi's mouth opened as she hobbled outside and all around her, Red Paladin's galloped on their steeds, and the fey running around them. Everywhere she looked, she saw the people of the village being choked in the mud or torn from their homes.

The raven's squawked and fluttered in the air, adding to the surreal chaos. Randvi began to move her feet, her eyes rapidly searching the flaming village as Red Paladin's carried blankets or any goods they could use for themselves onto a wagon while fey were slaughtered around them. That's when she saw the same man from the village, on his own steed. He looked high and mighty and held the aura of a victorious leader.

The man looked down at the blanket, which had been covering some wooden statues that Randvi could not see in the distance between them, and the man bellowed. "God sees, my friends. He sees these instruments of demonic conjuring."

Randvi had been so distracted with what was going on a few feet away, that she hadn't heard the Paladin leap up from behind her, and grab onto her locks. Randvi fell backwards from the force of his hand, and her ankle gave out underneath her. The man began to drag her as Randvi thrashed around while her hands gripped onto her hair, where the man had been pulling to ease the pain of her hair tearing from her scalp.

He had been dragging her towards the hill where crosses had been set up and more prisoners were sitting to be selected and tortured by the flames. Randvi started to panic and her eyes began to glow white as her magic came to life, her screams of terror filled his ears as he laughed while dragging her.

Randvi twisted her body to reach her hand towards the man, then from her fingertips, a telekinesis blast spewed from her hands which sent the man flying, ripping a few strands of hair along with him. Randvi grabbed the back of her head once she was free, feeling the pulse under her fingertips as she forced herself upwards and to run. Her ankle screamed out at her, but she knew she couldn't stop running.

She ran past the charred bodies on the crosses, their limbs twisted. The sight of it made Randvi upchuck in her mouth but she was forced to swallow it back down as she ran. The forests seemed like any good place to hide, she thought, as she ran towards the trees in the distance. Randvi dodged through the trees until her boots hit a well-worn path of stones.

Unaware of someone behind her, Randvi began to walk towards a sunken temple, embedded into the ground, the entrance covered with vines. Randvi moved the vines away as she walked down the moss covered steps, this must be the temple of the Sky Folk, she thought when she saw the altar in the distance.

The air was unbelievably thick inside the temple, and for a moment, it felt like she could barely catch her breath. Her mind felt foggy and dazed but she moved forward. Her violet eyes traveled around the room, then caught onto a woman who was clutching her stomach as she laid in a starfish position on the stone floor. Randvi didn't waste any time picking up her skirts and running, kneeling down beside the woman.

Randvi studied the woman for a moment, faint bruises left on her skin meant she had put up a fight. She had been attacked down here, in this sacred place. The woman's eyes were shut when Randvi touched her arm, shaking her slightly but she didn't move. Randvi, then bent forwards to put her ear a few inches away from the woman's mouth, feeling a weak puff of breath fan the side of her cheek.

She was alive, but barely holding on.

The woman was so cold as she laid on her back, and Randvi frowned down at her before her fingers began to illuminate. White magic began to pour out of the fey, and the heat from Randvi's body began to fester onto the woman. Randvi saw her eyes flutter slightly under her closed lids before they opened.

"Nimue . . " her voice was barely above a whisper and the words were lazy on her tongue. The woman's blurred sight began to clear as she gazed up at the woman, with white glowing eyes, and white veins traveling from her eyes, down to her cheeks, and under her clothes. "you must bring the sword to ―."

Her eyes began to dull as she lost her breath once again and with one last rise of her chest, the fey woman left this terrible world. Randvi's brow furrowed and she shook her once again. "No wait: what about the sword?!"

Randvi knew there was nothing else she could have done. She gave her the warmth from her own fingertips as she passed onto another life, and gave her a more comfortable passing. The fey shook her head out of disappointment. She still didn't have any idea where to find Gawain and for most of the morning, she had been asleep, healing from her wounds. She didn't even know the forests that surrounded the villages, not like the other fey.

CRUNCH.

Randvi's head snapped up from the noise coming towards the entrance of the temple. The air inside her lungs were sucked out when her violet eyes landed on a man, body covered in a grey cloak, and a sword at his side. Randvi's lips parted anxiously as the temple instantly got quiet, almost like the hidden was afraid to make their presence known in this sacred place.

The man behind the hood, stared back at her, studying the alarmed expression frozen onto her features. Her movements had halted once she heard him step on that stupid twig on his way down. Behind the cloak and unknown to her, his blue eyes traveled over her frame as she stared back at him, waiting for something to happen. He had smelled her from a mile away, the blood leaking from her body was like a perfume to his nose and once he caught a whiff, he knew someone was trying to escape the slaughter.

He watched her as she moved to the side with slow movements and then she spoke to him, "Who are–?" The rest of her sentence died in her throat once she heard the metal slide out of its sheath, and her eyes traveled downwards, watching the sword slowly escape from it's place at his side.

She swallowed hard as she looked where his face would be, if it wasn't hidden by the cloak he was wearing. Randvi watched as he advanced on her, and she quickly dodged the attack. Metal rang throughout the cave when his sword had struck solid rock,which left a ringing sound in their ears. Randvi's eyes turned white and she fisted her hand in the direction of his sword, swinging her hand across the temple, and sent the sword flying out of the monk's grasp.

The Weeping Monk looked at her, his total attention onto the strange sight in front of him. His icy blue eyes, that told a thousand stories, drunk in the sight of her. White threads of magic written all over her body like connecting constellations glowed on her skin, traveling up her arms where it sunk into her white orbs. His attention snapped down to her foot, where she lifted the weight from her leg.

Randvi stared back at him with fear glowing in her eyes while he looked at her with bewilderment in his cold gaze, then his lips turned at the corner before he launched himself in her direction. Randvi dodged to the left but her ankle gave out from the weight she put on it, realizing that was his plan all along. The monk grabbed onto her arm, flipped her over his back before she landed on the stone floor, wind knocking out of her lungs from the impact.

Randvi coughed but her breath caught once the Monk had straddled her, both hands placed on her throat, fingers closing around her windpipe in the frightening hold. Randvi's white eyes slowly died out as the magic began to dissipate, and the violet stared back at him with alarm. For the first time, that's when she saw his face and he looked back with a furrowed eyebrow.

The strange tear-marked eyes. The nightmares that she had weeks before the slaughter began to flash through her mind. The monk spinning in the flames, knocking down every winged creature in his path while the outline of his weeping tears illuminated against the orange.

Your face, she wanted to say but she couldn't get the words to come out of her closing throat. The Monk lessened his hold against her throat as he stared back at her, mouth opened slightly as he studied the lilac in her eyes. He wanted to shake away the incoming visions from something unnatural: a broken and bloody hand grasping for another, green eating the flesh of the hand as they touch. He shook his head as if to shake them out of his mind.

Randvi didn't even notice that he had loosened his hold until her throat contracted, and she was able to take a breath until the Monk regained his senses and squeezed even harder. The veins in Randvi's eyes became more prominent as her lungs began to burn, and black circles started to dot her vision.

Randvi mustered all the strength she had left. She reached and placed both of her hands on either side of his neck and squeezed. She thought she saw him smirk back at her lazy attempt but then the heat came from her fingertips and quickly wiped the smirk right off of his face. Under her grasp, his flesh began to cook. He gasped and immediately let go of her, his hands shooting up towards his neck and the new burns she had placed upon his skin.

Randvi gasped for her breath once his hands had left her neck, and she pushed away from the man, crawling backwards. She coughed and sputtered as she clawed her way to make distance between the both of them. Randvi watched as he began to walk towards his discarded sword, while his other hand laid against the burns on his neck.

Randvi had to think fast while he was still turned around. There was only one way out of the temple and it was right in the Grey Monk's path, and even if she could reach it, her ankle would give out before she even reached the steps. Randvi did the only thing she could do. She closed her eyes and began to imagine the forests outside of Dewdenn, which was hard since she had never seen them with her own eyes. She had heard stories from the elders, but that was enough for her magic to go on.

When the Monk turned around with his sword in hand, her face was glowing with white threads, trailing over her cheeks and down the sides of her neck. He heard her say things under her breath, but they were weak and muffled as her lungs screamed, her throat burning with each word. He advanced on her but even though he raised his sword to strike her down, he hesitated which cost him greatly.

Randvi had disappeared before he had a chance to curse himself for hesitating. The Monk was left in confusion, wondering why he dared to hesitate. He had never hesitated on killing another abomination before, but it was almost like something was taking control of his arms. He didn't even know that the faes could use that kind of magic, but then he remembered the slaughter of Rockwell, those kinds of demon's used the same magic. That's when it dawned on him that a Fire Fae had escaped the slaughter, and now had escaped his own clutches.

The Weeping Monk's eyes traveled around the temple before he threw his sword on the ground out of spite.

Chapter Text

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ACT ONE: PROPHECIES

CHAPTER FOUR

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RANDVI WOKE UP WITH A START. Her violet eyes glanced around the canopy of leaves, the wind breezing which made a ruffled noise as the leaves danced around each other overhead. Randvi slowly sits up on the grass, feeling the dampness under her fingers. Her clothes were soaking wet. It must have rained while she was knocked unconscious, for how long, she was unsure.

She then pushed herself off of the ground, testing her weight on her ankle. When Randvi doesn't feel any pain, just a light pressure, she decides to put more weight on it. It's not pain free but bearable enough to walk through the forest. Randvi studied the surrounding woods until her eyes landed on a clear path through the trees. She wasn't sure which way the path would lead, either back to Dewdenn or somewhere else entirely.

Right was always a good option to go with, Randvi thought to herself and started walking down the trail. The forest was rather quiet but there was something . . wrong in the air. The magic flowing in the air was strong, it was darkening with malicious intent. Randvi could feel it in her soul. Twisting around it's prey before it devours it whole. The further she walked down the path, limping ever so slightly to not agitate her ankle, something strange began to fill her ears.

The howling of the wind rustled through the leaves above, and then she heard the noise again. Something heavy was making this sound that Randvi had never heard before, but then a low groan followed afterwards. Randvi took a sharp intake of breath as her eyes rapidly searched through the dark forest while she paused her walk. She couldn't see anything but that didn't mean nothing was out there.

Randvi then closed her eyes and listened to what the forest wanted to tell her. Her mother always told her that the forests surrounding the fey villages were magical and alive. That sometimes if you listened close enough, they would whisper back at you. She heard the howling from the wind, the snaps of branches underneath the feet of a nearby fawn, and then the same strange sound bouncing off of the trees.

Randvi knew she shouldn't have walked in the same direction of the sound, but she could not help her curiously when it needed to be fed. She thought about it, second guessed herself. Her inner conscious told her to go towards the sound, but her mind told her to turn around. Once she got closer to the sound, it got louder and more clear.

Randvi peered from behind a tree and her eyes gazed upon the scene in front of her. Wolf carcasses littered the ground, most of them had been beheaded. Randvi walked towards the large rock in the middle of the wolf massacre, when she heard the noise from before. She raised her head to look into the forest before making her way towards the sound.

A few feet away from the wolves, was a man twisted in a mess of gigantic roots that had been raised from the ground. Randvi's mouth opened wide in shock as they stretched around him, making a creaking noise echo throughout the woods. Randvi watched as the roots circled around his body, around the red cloak he was wearing. This was caused by magic.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a body move on the ground. Randvi immediately turned her attention to the young woman laying on her back, her fingers twitching as her body began to wake from whatever she had endured. Randvi could only assume that the young woman was responsible for the roots, and when she took a step towards her, she could see the blood splattered over her face.

Randvi picked up her ruined skirts and bent down on the grass when she heard the sharp intake of breath. The girl's eyes fluttered open as her mind started to wake, and Randvi gathered her hair away from her face. "Hey, are you alright?" Randvi whispered under her breath while checking the woman for wounds.

The fey girl caught her gaze once her sight became less blurry. When their eyes connected, her blue eyes widened in shock. Randvi watched as the girl scrambled away, her eyes looking for something on the ground as she put distance in between them.

Randvi put her hands in front of her, silently telling her that she meant no harm to the young woman. "I'm not going to hurt you." Randvi spoke with such softness in her voice that it made the girl's shoulders slide down a little. "Born at the dawn . ."

The young woman in front of her opened her mouth slightly in realization that she was a fey born. " . . to pass away in the Twilight." she then studied the woman in front of her, blood seeping from what seemed like her eyes, as she didn't see any other wounds on her face. "I'm Randvi."

"Nimue." The girl told her, and then looked around when the sound of roots twisting around the body behind her, echoed throughout the forest reached her ears. "Where's my sword?" she questioned her to which Randvi shook her shoulders in response, but began to look around for the asked object.

Randvi's violet eyes found the object she had asked for, and began to walk towards the piece of metal hidden underneath the wrapped cloth. It's when she began to hear a faint ringing start in her ears but Randvi shook it away and reached for the sword. The second her warm hand touched the handle of the sword, her eyes turned white and she lost her sight.

Randvi couldn't see a thing. There was only darkness until a streak of light in the shape of a cylinder, shined through the opposite side of what looked like a room to her. Randvi reached for it with her hands, only to notice her hands weren't exactly her own. Randvi's feet began to move forward without her wanting to. This wasn't her body, she quickly realized.

Randvi's mind turned into a haze before more light shines into her eyes, blinding her with a white light until her eyes settle with the new found brightness. She was on top of a tree, a large branch used as a walking cane in one hand, and a sword in the other. Her hand reached forward to put the sword onto an altar in front of her, and beside it, laid a babe wrapped in royal blue cloth. A tuft of colored hair was all Randvi could see poking above the cloth as she babe slept soundly.

"You've seen the future, Merlin?" A woman called out but Randvi could not see her face under her hood, just a blackness where her facial features should be.

Randvi could see a few people gathered around the altar, like a summoning was taking place but she could not see any faces. Just blackness.

"Prophecies written in the clouds that cannot be reshaped, I'm afraid." The man's voice rang in Randvi's ears and realized that the voice had been hers. The voices that came from the others gathered around where distant, a few feet away but this Merlin . . . his voice was loud and wanting to be heard by her ears.

"Then you must bless this child with the sword's power, our creation, or all of us is doomed."

This man, Merlin, then shook his head while looking down at the small infant wrapped in a cloth, an innocent in this terrible and unforgiving world. The babe would soon learn of the world's hatred and its nature of taking, and taking without giving anything back, and they wouldn't be able to prevent it. They have hid for centuries, Merlin knew this, but they could not hide any longer.

"You would give this child the sword's curse without a second thought of the consequences of what this power could do to an innocent child? It might eat her from the inside out―!"

And Merlin fought with her. He knew that whatever power this sword could give the child, it would turn into chaos, something the child couldn't control in the future, if the child could even control the sword's power suffocating it's tiny soul.

Randvi saw the swell of magic in the air, thick and suffocating as the woman in front of her suddenly rose her hand in the air and reached for Merlin's throat. Her fingers closed around nothing but air, but Merlin's walker tumbled to the ground as he began to choke on his own air.

"You are treading on thin ice, Merlin. May I remind you: you stole the sword from us and we did not go looking for it. You will bless the child with the power from the sword and when the time comes, she will be there to turn their weapon to her side."

Merlin choked on his own salvia, his face turning red with the deprivation of oxygen flowing into his lungs. "I—"

Merlin spat out with the little oxygen he had left in his throat and his words had let the magic seep back into her own hands, the threads holding Merlin captive then released him. Merlin kneeled forward onto his knees as he dropped, gathering himself with both palms against the wood of the tree.

"The sword has dark magic inside—" Merlin fought with her, gazing up at her through his eyelashes.

"The magic will save us all in due time, Merlin. Do this, now." The woman then looked away as Merlin rose on his heels, feeling a hint of defeat as he took a glance at the small babe. He took a small pity on the young one, at the magic that it was going to endure could either devour her whole, or it would become something no one has ever anticipated. Merlin conjured his magic, a hot crackling power coming from the clouds above that roared as his magic came to life.

He started to say incantations under his breath as the thunder roared around the tree, and the onlookers began to look nervous from the amount of lightning conjuring around the altar. Merlin looked towards the sword, knowing that if he went through with the ceremony, the sword would take with the child, slowly becoming one with her, filling her up with wrath and greed. The whorls he would put upon this child would burn it from the inside out, but he was forced to put this upon the child.

Merlin took a different direction, he grabbed the hilt of the sword and raised it towards the angry clouds above, and the crack of lightning trailed down to touch the metal, blinding everyone around the altar. Merlin looked towards the small babe, his white eyes widened as he started to whisper words until his own magic began to consume the baby. The crackling lightning built a silhouette of white magic around the tiny body, seeping into its eyes until it was the color of his own― blackening its soul with the same power the sword gives him.

Randvi pulls her hand back from the sword's handle as her vision returns. Her fingers tingled with power and unknown magic, leaving her mind feeling lost and hazy, like she had just woken up from a vivid dream. The sword clanked on the ground as it slipped from her fingers. From behind her, Nimue threw up the contents of her stomach behind her after she saw the roots squeezing the life out of the Red Paladin.

Randvi thought the girl had fire but she had a weak stomach for violence. Randvi didn't blame her though, she was now feeling completely sick to her stomach. She had all these questions that she didn't have answers to. What exactly did she see inside the sword, and why did it show her these things when it touched her flesh? This young babe she saw in the middle of the altar seemed familiar, but she didn't know why.

Randvi glanced down at the sword again, and she hesitated with reaching for it once again. The dream she had seemed so real but it was before her time. That she was sure of. Randvi let go a shaky breath before her hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword. Mere seconds later, symbols written down the shaft of the sword started to illuminate an orange color and her hands strangely began to feel lighter, more powerful, and Randvi wasn't sure if she liked that feeling.

There was this feeling of something burning her from the inside out. Making her insides feel like a volcano, threatening to explode.

Randvi slid the sword into the scabbard and then started walking towards Nimue. The poor girl was retching up her stomach, and she was shivering from the cold as Randvi approached her from behind.

"I found your sword." Randvi told her, holding out the sword that she wrapped back in the cloth. Nimue glanced behind her shoulder and a small appreciative smile graced her face. Randvi noticed that the girl had put some of her guard down around her, but Nimue was still watchful around her.

Randvi watched as the young woman gathered herself, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve and holding the bottom of her stomach. Randvi grabbed onto the nearby branch, smearing some of her own blood onto the bark as she waited. She watched curiously as Nimue turned back around, avoiding the right side of the forest, where the vines she called upon.

"Better him than you," Randvi pointed out to clear the silence hanging over them. Her violet eyes studied the way Nimue's posture tensed immediately once she brought up the Red Paladin. "the way I see it, he probably deserved it."

Randvi smiled back at her once Nimue cracked a chuckle. Nimue felt a little better about this whole situation with Randvi being around. It was nice to not be totally lost in this world, she had already lost Pym. A cold wind breezed past them which made Nimue shiver, and Randvi furrowed her eyebrows once the girl began to brush her forearms back and forth to conjure some warmth. "You're freezing. Here, you need this more than I do."

Nimue watched with widened eyes as Randvi unclasped her royal blue cloak from around her shoulders, and handled Nimue the fabric but Nimue shook her head in response. "I possibility couldn't."

Randvi pushed the cloth forward and into Nimue's hand before she could protest again, "I run quite warm, trust me, I won't need it."

Nimue took it hesitantly and felt the fabric under her fingers. It was still damp but had a strange warmth to it. Nimue put it around her shoulders and smiled back at her. "I know a stream not too far from here, we should be able to clean up there." Nimue told her as they began to walk together, Nimue leading the woman away.

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Father Carden's boot poked the nose of a wolf's severed head, and gazed around at the carcasses of dead wolves that littered around a large rock. The Weeping Monk slowly made his way towards the scene, taking note of every detail laid out before him. "It appears some Fey swords eluded our net," Father Carden spoke, his voice low and rough.

The Weeping Monk walked around the bodies of the dead wolves, and saw something on the ground and he kneeled down quickly, touching his fingers to the ground. Father Carden glanced in his direction, and immediately grew interested in what the Monk had found. "Found something?" He questioned, as the two figures in red followed behind.

"Only one set," the monk replied, "Fey girl by the size of them," he added on and began to study the ground around the prints. His icy blue eyes gazed upon another set of tracks further away, and immediately walked towards them, bending down to study them.

"An abomination," Carden whispered, looking around at the blood that stained the ground. "this was no ordinary sword."

"She might have had help, there's another set of tracks." The Weeping Monk informed him, reaching down to put his finger against the print in the raised dirt. He knew that there was another woman that had escaped his own hands, but he couldn't be sure of whose prints they belonged to, but whoever it was, the print was smaller than a mans.

The Weeping Monk was quickly brought out of his thoughts as the cries of the brothers reached his ears. "Father! Father!" The paladin called out, and he was quick to rise to his feet, while the three of them quickly made haste to follow the paladin.

The grey monk was quick to observe the several brothers, on their knees and mouths to the ground while they prayed under their breaths for their savior to save them. The Monk's eyes traveled to a thick weave of branches and felt his jaw tense at the sight in front of his eyes.

One of his brothers laid at the top of the woven branches, while the roots weaved around his body. The Weeping Monk looked away in disgust and towards the other Paladin's behind him.

"Get up," Father Carden commanded his Red Paladin's and kicked at them, rushing them to rise. "Shame on you," he spat out, as he glared at the monks. "Look at it!" he pointed towards the man, his other fist balled at his side as he sneered.

"This is the enemy!" he yelled, as he turned to face the paladin in the branches. Father Carden watched as the paladin struggled to take a breath, and his brow rose on his forehead when he noticed the man was still alive.

The Weeping Monk's eyes traveled around the forest until he spotted a spot of blood smeared on the bark of a nearby tree. His fingers touched the bark, and he rolled the blood between his fingers. The grey monk closed his eyes for a second, then saw violet ones staring back at him.

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, and turned his head to the side as he opened his eyes once again. "Fey blood," he breathed out, and then slowly peered down at the footprints in the ground. Father Carden's head snapped towards the Weeping Monk as he advanced towards him and examined the blood and the tracks, "Let me find her, father."

At those words, Carden glanced back at the vines squeezing the paladin, "I need you to kill every fey in this wood." he commanded him and then waved his hand at one of the Paladin's dressed in red, "You, cut him down."

The man nodded and unsheathed his sword, traveling around the stump of branches, as he began to try and cut his brother out. "We're looking for one Fey maid with a large sword. Take this description to Hawksbridge, Sheep Heard, and Burned Pass. Tell them . . that anyone harboring this wolf-blood witch . . will burn with her." he commanded his faithful Red Paladins.

The Weeping Monk turned on his heel as his hand mindlessly traveled to the hilt of his sword. Father Carden turned his head to watch the monk in grey mount on top of his black horse, and he nodded towards him.

They both failed to realize that the mere fey they were hunting was one that was about to flip the very plans that Carden had for the future. The Weeping Monk would truly transform his morals at the words of a mere woman, destined by fate to change the tides.

Chapter Text

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ACT ONE: PROPHECIES

CHAPTER FIVE

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

NIMUE and Randvi walked alongside one another while they navigated through the woods. The clank of metal filling Randvi's ears as they walked through the forest, a chiming noise making her own head throb. She wasn't sure if Nimue could hear the strange noise. If she did, she never made any indication that she was hearing what Randvi was hearing.

There were whispers, small and unimportant. Things that Randvi had never heard before but somehow . . familiar. She wasn't sure how and why exactly she was hearing these things, but the whispers had never stopped for her. Randvi had always heard things in her mind, speaking to her in an unknown language, ever since she was a young fey.

But she never thought anything of it, brushed it off as the Hidden speaking with her but what good was the Hidden, if they talked with her in some code? How was she supposed to understand anything if they didn't speak what she could understand? Walking alongside Nimue, somehow made the whispers louder than normal, or maybe it was the forest they were surrounded by.

Randvi made a mental note of everything she had passed while they walked, the small meadow of the greenest grass she had ever seen. Streaks of light shined through the openings of the clouds above, sending magical particles of orange hue to dance upon the grass. Then, they passed a hollowed out oak tree, a mess of twigs and dried out grass sticking out of the rotten wood.

Nimue glanced towards the young woman with interest in her eyes. She gazed upon everything like this was the first time seeing the forest with her own eyes. It made her wonder about things, of who exactly she was and what kind of fey were her people. Nimue noted the purple hue in her eyes, but she had never seen such color in one's iris' before. She wanted to ask her but the silence between them was comfortable and she didn't want to ruin that by bringing up questions about her origin.

Soon, a trickling sound of water invaded both of their ears, and Randvi glanced over at Nimue with a smile on her face. Nimue's feet began to walk at a faster pace as they came to a small clearing, a small river flowing right through the middle. Both girls walked towards the water, and Nimue set her sword on the rock, the handle dipping into the rushing water while she began to wash her hands.

Randvi copied her actions, cleaning the dirt and dried blood from her hands, letting the crimson stain wash away into nothing but horrific memories into the water. Randvi glanced towards the brunette, watching her as she vigorously cleansed the blood off of her hands. Her eyes softened when she heard a quiet sob escape her lips. Both of them had lost too much.

Randvi had watched her only home burn in the matter of minutes. The only thing she had ever known. The only thing that was familiar. Never—in her lifetime —had she ever anticipated that she would be forced away from her only home, and into a world that she knew nothing about. The thought was scary enough but now that it had actually happened . . Randvi didn't know what was next for her. Her future was unpredictable and that was a terrifying thought to someone who already had an idea of how their future would play out.

She thought of her best-friend that she had to leave behind. Astrid— she had always been there for her through everything in her time span. She didn't know if Astrid survived but she had to hold onto the hope that she could possibly be out there, and hopefully getting help for the wounds she suffered.

Randvi pushed her thoughts to the back of her head as she cupped the cool water in her palms and washed the blood from her face. She scrubbed the sides of her temple and picked the blood from underneath her fingernails. She sat there on the rock for a while, just looking up at the swirling blues of the sky while she waited for Nimue to clean the blood off of her sword. She had watched the girl try to keep her sobs hidden but even the rushing water couldn't mute her cries.

Randvi wanted to comfort her but she was a stranger in Nimue's eyes. What comfort could she possibly give a woman that she did not know?

Randvi watched as Nimue rose from the stream and turned to face the woman on the rock. "Do you have a water canteen?" she questioned, her nose stuffy from crying but Randvi didn't mention anything to her. "You should fill it. Don't know when the next time we will be by any available water."

Randvi pushed herself from her sitting position and took the small water canteen from her belt, wrapped around her waist. Her canteen was almost empty and to be completely honest, she had forgotten she had one until this very moment. Thinking about water, now had her mouth feeling parched as she approached the stream once again and filled the bottle with water.

"Where will you go?" Randvi then asked her as she turned around, putting the bottle to her lips. She wasn't sure if she was invited to come with her, but Randvi had gotten used to having her around. Nimue was her guide in a way, she didn't know the land like Nimue did.

"I have to check on someone first but then I will be making my way to Hawksbridge. It's not too far from here, about ten miles." Nimue informed her as she looked towards the sky, and studied the position of the sun before adding. "We should reach it by sundown."

Randvi's eyebrows rose on her forehead, "What's Hawksbridge?" she questioned her as she began to follow behind Nimue as she strapped the sword over her shoulder.

Nimue looked at her curiously. This woman really didn't know a thing about the world she was living in and for a moment, she thought the young woman was kidding with her. "Are you serious?" Nimue questioned, her mouth turning up with a playful grin.

Randvi's eyebrows furrowed, and then she shrugged when Nimue's expression softened when she noticed she was serious. "My people didn't travel to other villages. We kind of kept to ourselves, so all of this . . '' Randvi gestured towards the atmosphere, and the rushing river on her left as they walked further into the fey woods. " . . it's new to me."

Nimue lifted an eyebrow, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't assume things." She gave her a sheepish grin. She immediately felt bad that she assumed the woman was playing a joke on her, but now that she gave a second to think about it, she didn't know why she would lie about these things in the first place. "It's a village that we often traded with. I know someone there that could help us."

Randvi gleamed with the idea of visiting another village but she had seen two villages burn in a run of a day, or what seemed like a day. She was unconscious for who knows how long. It made an uneasy feeling rise in her throat. "And this village, it accepts who we are?"

Nimue glanced at her for a moment, "Well, not exactly.." She watched as her face fell, and Randvi looked upon the moving leaves of the forest for a moment. "I had some trouble the last time I went but we need the help."

Randvi felt a wave of disappointment wash through her, dampening her spirits of exploring the world with Nimue. It wasn't even the fact that Nimue would be with her but exploring a world she knew nothing about. "I can't go.." Randvi frowned. "They'll notice that I'm not human when they view the color of my eyes.."

"I understand." Nimue began to nod slowly, "..Old Man Rock should be up ahead." She spoke as they paced themselves down the small hill, Randvi trailing behind her quickly. Her hand grabbed onto a tree trunk on her way down to balance herself as Nimue approached the hollowed out rock. "Squirrel? I'm here!" Nimue picked up her pace, running between the two boulders.

Randvi followed closely behind, her eyes studying the moss growing over the rock. She could hear Nimue's breathing get heavier while she power walked up the small hill, "Squirrel?" she called out again, and then ducked her head between a little hole in the formation of rocks.

Randvi glanced towards the brunette woman, blood still on her temple as Nimue's eyes danced around the forest. A look of sheer panic on her pretty features and Randvi frowned once again. Whoever this 'Squirrel' was, they were important to her and she had lost another person in her life after losing too many.

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Nimue and Randvi had decided to part ways at Old Man Rock. Nimue had been devastated at the loss of the small boy, and even though Randvi didn't know her, she was there to comfort her through all the tears. Randvi had told her numerous times that perhaps the little boy had gotten away, or maybe he had found another fey to take care of him.

It made the dark thoughts swirling inside Nimue's mind feel at ease, but it still wasn't enough to dry the tears from her eyes. They waited for a few moments at the rock in hopes that he would show but he did not. It made this world they were living in almost unbearable, the fact that the Red Paladin's would cut down a small boy of ten winters, was bone rattling.

Nimue thanked Randvi for her presence in her time of need, but she could not stay with her any longer. Before Nimue had made the trek to Hawksbridge, Randvi had to ask about the man her mother told her to look for, Gawain.

Nimue had been most informative, letting the young fey know that her and Gawain had been childhood friends and grew up together in the village of Dewdenn. Much to her disappointment though, Nimue also told her that Gawain had disappeared on a vessel called The Brass Shield. She hadn't seen the man since and wasn't even positive Gawain was alive.

Randvi felt like she was at a greater loss as she processed the new information she was given. How was she supposed to find someone who had disappeared, or even perhaps dead? It seemed like she should have just taken her chances and gone to Hawksbridge with Nimue, at least she would have a chance of survival. In these woods, her chance of surviving whatever was lurking within was becoming more slim.

Randvi questioned the culture she was brought up in, of how the Fire Fae were never allowed to go beyond their own walls. What good brought the Fire Fae of being sheltered beings, afraid of their own powers if it meant beyond their own homes— they were clueless.

It made Randvi frustrated with her own upbringing. All of her eighteen years were spent on learning her heritage and the other fey, and not the world around them.

Randvi walked further into the fey forest, the trees whistling as she walked past them. Her eyes on the lookout for anything that could indicate that the fey were nearby. She looked for words in the trees, stones laid in a certain way that only the fey would understand their symbols but she had found nothing of the sort. It was already getting dark in the forest and soon, nightfall would consume the world around her and leave her in the darkness.

Instead of searching for the fey symbols until twilight came, Randvi began to gather edible roots and berries she found in the forest. She would have to set up some kind of camp, even though starting a fire in these woods would bring attention — something she did not want.

She didn't know anything about the surrounding forests but she wasn't completely clueless of what lurks in the darkness. These woods were filled with Red Paladin's on white steeds, mercenaries looking to loot any coin they could find on your being, and flesh eating wolves traveling in dangerous numbers. Randvi could hold her own at a distance but she knew without a weapon on her being, up close combat would not turn in her favor.

Randvi placed all of her edible plants on a flattened rock, and then gathered firewood for the night. She picked up a few sticks, larger branches that had fallen onto the floor, and some dried grass at the base of a huge tree which she had decided to sit with her back facing the trunk. This way, her flank would not be exposed to anything creeping up on her in the night.

Randvi built the small fire with ease and then stared at the dried logs as she imagined flames eating away at the bark. Suddenly, flames sparked and took hold of the sticks, and the fire grew hotter and reached towards the sky. Randvi's purple eyes traveled around the dark forest, looking between the tree trunks for any movement and when she didn't see anything, she decided to relax her shoulders against the trunk.

Randvi wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep but her restless slumber was disturbed when she heard a twig snap in the darkness and soon, muffled laughter echoed throughout the forest. Randvi's eyes shot open at the noise and immediately she was on alert. The fey launched towards the fire and stamped the remaining flames away with her boot, leaving her small camp in complete darkness.

"Soon we will all avenge our brothers and sisters." A voice called out in the night which made Randvi place her back against the trunk as the footsteps got closer to her camp.

"I still think you're an idiot, Grim." Another voice called out a few feet away from Randvi, and she looked into the dark forest and saw movement in front of her. Randvi picked herself off of the ground, and crouched down while tailing behind the small group.

Randvi could barely pick out any features in the darkness until she saw the flames of a campfire in the distance. Randvi hid behind a large tree and peeped out to the side of the tree, her mouth parted slightly as the flickering campfire came into view and highlighted the Weeping Monk's seemingly sleeping face. She could instantly feel a slight tug inside her mind, whispers of words she didn't understand in the back of her head as the connection they shared danced in the air around her and the Weeping Monk. It felt like they were reaching to each other, the world shifting it's way for two beings, and yet again, fate had brought them together again.

Randvi knew the difference of approaching this man, even though the pull was strong against her mind. It wanted her to go forward, to approach him but she knew better. This man was dangerous, this man was not kind and would show her no mercy, connection or not.

"Get up, you murdering pig," a male Fey speaks, pointing what looks like a wooden rake down at the gray monk. Randvi's attention was brought back to the scene a few feet away from her, eyebrows rising on her forehead.

She gave them the credit of being courageous. She didn't know if approaching the grey monk was a good idea, especially with his reputation. She couldn't tell if these fey men were dumb, or stupidly brave.

She watched as the monk's expression seemed unfazed by the weapon pointed at his throat, and with the fey surrounding his small camp, it made Randvi's skin crawl.

"Josse," A small boy exclaimed as he rose from his position on a log but Randvi couldn't get a good look at him since one of the fey warriors was blocking her line of sight.

"Squirrel, you all right?" the man asks, still pointing the rake at the grey monk. Randvi's eyes gleamed when she found out the small boy was the same fey Nimue had been looking for earlier. He was alive but had been captured by the worst man he could have been captured by. "Tie him up," the Fey man says to one of his companions, as he grabs the grey monk, hauling him to his feet.

"I think we've caught the big killer," The man that Squirrel called Josse, spat out while his companion hauled the grey monk to his feet. "Look at his eyes."

"Shed a few for us, brother?" The man who had been tying his wrists together with a rope began to mock him.

Josse looked towards the crackling fire, "Get me a nice red one, Grim."

"Ever been dragged by a horse with a hot coal up its bum?" Josse asks the grey-cloaked monk, as they neared the black horse at the other side of the small camp. Randvi had heard mumbling in response but she wasn't close enough to make out the words being said.

"Just kill him, Josse," The little boy yells out, growing impatient.

Randvi's forehead wrinkled as she stared at the grey monk. She had faced off with the monk before, and she knew he had tremendous skill with combat, but he was allowing himself to be captured rather than fighting the fey off. It all seemed very suspicious to her for Randvi knew he could easily fight them all off.

"What did you have in mind for Squirrel, you sick bastard?" Josse hissed venomously as they dragged the monk over to his horse.

Randvi couldn't hear the next words coming out of the monk's mouth, muffled whispers carried throughout the forest as the horse beside them neighed into the night. In seconds, Randvi's whole body stilled against the tree as the monk kicked his knee into the groin of the man in front of him, and then walloped the other with both his fists tied together.

Randvi covered her mouth as she inhaled sharply while watching the scene in front of her. Her heart hammering violently against her ribcage as she watched the small rescue party be slaughtered. The grey monk grabbed hold of his horse's reins and circled the leather around the neck of the same man he had kneed, and started to strangle him before the sound of metal coming out of its scabbard filled the forest.

Randvi watches breathless as he launches his body over the saddle and took out several more fey with his hands tied together in front of him. She hears the knife fly through the air and embed itself into another fey's face as he hits the ground with a groan. He then returns to the saddle and hits the next oncoming fey man with something else that Randvi could not pick out in the dark before it drops to the ground along with the fey. The next man is kicked into the crackling fire. The yellow flames grow more with something else to feed on as it licks onto the fey's clothing, and consumes the fabric.

The last woman to fall gets an axe in the face which erupts a small scream out of Randvi's mouth which she immediately clamps her hand over. The Monk's head whips around in the direction of the noise and she quickly adverts her eyes from the scene, hiding her body behind the trunk of the tree. At this moment, she is thankful that darkness is around her, for if it was daytime, she would have been seen.

Randvi's hand is shaking over her mouth as tears stain her cheeks. She tries to regain control of her breathing and the magic begins to course through her in a time where she doesn't need it. The immense terror she feels in this moment is enough to ignite her powers, but Randvi breathes in and out, her head against the trunk as her eyes close.

She feels the drum inside of her head, the music of the hidden reaching out to her as her breathing slows and her magic dissipates with each breath. She is afraid, but she will not be overruled by her emotions, not when the risk is too great.

She can't see anything anymore, as Randvi is too afraid to peek her head around the tree to look where the monk is currently standing, but she hears his heavy footfalls against the leaves on the ground. The crackling of the fire, and the chirps of the grasshoppers sing in the night as the forest is dead silent and it makes Randvi feel more uneasy with each step she hears.

Then she hears leaves rustling and the boy, Squirrel, struggling to free himself as the monk walks over to him. The frightened whimpers of the boy fill the air and it tugs on Randvi's heart as more tears escape her eyes. She was about to witness and hear a little boy's slaughter and she did nothing for it, for she was too afraid of making herself known.

"You tell your Fey brethren what you saw here. Tell them I'm coming," she hears, mumbled into the night as a sound of something hitting the ground fills her ears. Randvi then hears running, but she doesn't dare peek out over the bark of the tree.

The wind picks up for a second, brushing through the ground and picking up leaves as it travels across the land. Randvi's hair flows off her neck and flies in the wind, straight for the Weeping Monk. Her scent of wood smoke, lilac, and some other type of herb that the grey monk can't describe invades his nostrils, and the same purple eyes flicker in his head.

"You can come out, I know you're here." His voice is muffled and strained as his words ring in her head, and her next breath comes out with a shake as she hears his footsteps near her spot behind the tree.

Randvi's breathing increases as her magic ignites at the mere feeling of danger, the familiar feeling of something building in the pit of her stomach. With a deep breath, Randvi steps from behind the tree and reveals herself to the grey monk, his features hidden by the darkness of his hood once again.

The monk stops in his tracks as her frame is revealed to his blue eyes, and his gaze travels up and down her form as her chin wobbles with freight. "Does it give you courage when your sword tastes fey blood?" Randvi managed to croak out, not understanding why she felt the pull to reveal herself and not just run in the opposite direction. She should have ran.

The Weeping Monk didn't even move a muscle as he stared back at her, his sword dangling from his hand as they stared at one another. Their eyes studied each other's frames as they tried to read one another. "You know what gives me courage?" Randvi breathes out, feeling her magic pulse in the air around her. Like smoke invading her lungs, and the feeling of not being able to breathe invades her senses. "the fact that you burned my village to the ground and left none of us left, not even the children, and now I can avenge them by burning you."

If the grey cloaked Monk was even fazed by her words, he didn't show anything to indicate he was affected by her threat. Randvi forced down bile rising in her throat as her eyes began to glow a white, and he watches with bated breath.

Then, the Monk immediately began walking towards her, and Randvi backed away as his pace quickened. Randvi then summoned her magic and her hand shot out but nothing but embers flew out of her fingers. She looked down at her hands, panicked before her eyes shot back up to the Monk, with a smirk on his face.

Seriously? She cursed herself silently as she turned around and began to run. She could still hear his footfalls behind her and the more panicked she became, the more the drum sounded louder in her ears. Randvi stuck her hand out again and this time, the pyrokinetic energy flew out of her hands and hit the tree behind her, slicing the trunk down the middle and letting it fall right in the Monk's path. Randvi slowed down her run to look over her shoulder, watching as the Monk's features were illuminated in the fire's light, his marks under his eyes glowing an orange as they stared at each other again.

The Weeping Monk watched her evade his clutches again for the third time, and his breathing got heavy as he watched her frame disappear in the night.

Chapter Text

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ACT ONE: PROPHECIES

CHAPTER FIVE

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

AS SOON AS THE WEEPING MONK RETURNED TO THE ABBEY, HE BEGAN TO WALK TOWARDS THE MAIN ROOM, WHERE THE RED PALADIN'S HELD IMPORTANT MEETINGS. He picked up his pace, heavy footfalls echoing off of the walls of the church while his eyes briefly scanned every woman he walked past. The sisters of the Abbey quickly averted their stares when their eyes connected, and held their heads down when he passed alongside them. The sisters had heard plenty of stories regarding the infamous grey-monk, whose steel strikes without mercy, and the blood that would forever stain his silver blade. His brothers, those dressed in red, nodded their heads towards him out of respect but the grey monk would barely pay attention.

He had come bearing the scrolls from the villages they had pillaged along the way towards the Abbey. Many of them had the spellings of the old Fey, symbols painted onto the paper to only be read by the Fey but some of them were mere English, something the Red Paladin's could understand.

The Monk turned down a series of corridors before he turned to walk into a room filled with several long wooden tables that had scrolls and paper on them. About a dozen brothers filled the room, Father Carden at the head of them.

"We know Brother Odo was cut by the sword, because around the wound was a burn... in the shape of a Fey symbol. The Mark of the Devil's tooth." Father Carden finished, as the footsteps of the Weeping Monk entering the room, grabbed his attention.

"Ah... here he is. Enter my son," The Monk's face was still as stone as he approached the table, setting the heavy documents on top of the wood.

Father Carden moved to pick up one of the scrolls, unraveling the binding on it. "These are the lists of the Fey Elders who are still alive," he spoke and set the scrolls in front of one of the brothers, and he leaned forward to take a closer look. "Their villages are marked on the map. With these maps, we can flush them out," Father Carden spoke, as the monk stood idly behind him, hand resting on the handle of his sword. "With this intelligence, we can end them. And by the glory of God, this land will be cleansed."

"But what about Merlin? He's still the head of the snake," the brother on the right of Carden questioned. "As long as he serves Uther Pendragon, he's untouchable." another brother added.

"Patience, my brothers," Father Carden spoke, "Our mission is the extinction of the Fey. Once we possess the Sword of Power, it'll be a crippling blow to them. Then, and only then, the heavenly fires will come for Merlin," the Father ended, as he went to spread some more papers, silence overtaking them.

As small footsteps of another sister left the room, an overwhelming scent of pine, mixed with lavender and something else he could not pinpoint, filled the Weeping Monk's nose. His eyes narrowed as his head shifted to the side, and he slowly began to turn around with a puzzling look on his face.

He slowly excused himself from the room and walked down the halls to one of the many bed chambers. The Abbey was all but clean, as the door shook from impact, the dust danced in the air while the Weeping Monk entered one of the chambers. The monk paused for a moment, and then continued towards the first bed. A quilt laid on top of it, along with a large wooden cross.

He stood at the foot of the bed before one of the chests, sensing nothing and then continuing down the line towards the second bed. Sensing nothing, he continued to the last remaining bed and felt the sensation inside his mind, a feeling he best described as something pulling at his soul, his mind, his very being. He could smell things the others could not, like an overwhelming thick perfume to his nostrils.

The grey monk flipped the top of the chest open, revealing a pile of messy clothing inside. He paused for a moment, lips pursed in thought until he reached down and dug his hands around the contents of the chest. His blue eyes caught onto a piece of cloth he could have sworn he had seen before, and lifted it out of the chest slowly.

The cloth was a hooded cape. It was heavy in weight and a royal blue color. He felt the worn out cloth between his fingers before lifting it towards his face, and took a deep breath through his nose. All at once, the scent of evergreens, wood smoke, and lilac invaded his nostrils, but something else that was unfamiliar to him.

The Weeping Monk's lips pursed as he looked down at the cloth in his clutches. The same woman with the purple eyes– he would know that scent anywhere. It was the same scent that haunted his dreams, and kept him awake at night. He wondered how she managed to get to the Abbey before he did after he had lost her trail back at the campsite he used to lure Fey, how she managed to get past the guards stationed at the gate with the facial features such as hers. There was also a scent he was unfamiliar with but related to the Fey.. it made him wonder how many Fey were present in the Abbey.

The Grey Monk placed the cloak back into the chest but didn't bother to close the top over it. Instead, he reached into his own cloak and pulled out a piece of parchment he had hidden away. He knew he shouldn't have kept the paper for himself, knowing that Father Carden would disapprove greatly of his actions but something else made him not pass it over. He couldn't and he didn't know why. He began to unroll the aged parchment and quickly studied the markings drawn over the paper. There were some writings in ancient fey, something he couldn't understand and terribly drawn pictures scribbled over the page. A knight on his knees with a dark cloud and a broken down cross over it's head sat at the middle of the writings, then a verse underneath.

The one blessed by the unholy sword, born amidst thunder and lightning, will guide the lost towards the light to combat an impending darkness.

Another picture laid after the verse, a woman surrounded by dark clouds and lightning bolts. In the middle of the dark sky laid a sword that didn't look familiar to him. Ruins were drawn into the fuller part of the sword but since the markings were so small, he couldn't pick them out.

For they will be the guiding light whom will face off against the darkest weapon, and banish the demons they possess.

The Monk drew a breath before it hitched in his throat. He wasn't sure why he had initially kept the piece of paper, but for some reason, he knew it was important. His inner conscience told him to hold onto it after he found it in RockWell, the edges of the parchment had been burned but the verse made it through the fire.

The Weeping Monk looked back towards the chest, and the cloak that he had thrown back into it. The cloak, it belonged to the woman in the forest – that he was sure of. If she was here in the Abbey, he could need to act quickly. The grey monk turned back around with his hand on the pommel of his sword, walking straight for Father Carden to inform him the enemy was inside the stone walls. He would catch her this time.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

RANDVI RAN AS FAST AS SHE COULD TO PREVENT THE MONK FOLLOWING HER. She ran through the trees with ease with her fingers grabbing onto the bottom of her shredded dress, so she wouldn't trip on the ruined cloth. Dawn was approaching in the east as she slowed her run, her lungs on fire from the amount of running she had done in the past few days.

She was utterly exhausted since she had not eaten since the initial slaughter of her own village. The trauma she had endured that morning would haunt her until the day she would draw her very last breath. Randvi couldn't recall the last time she had not felt sick to her stomach, and the stench of burned bodies never left her nostrils. She managed to grab whatever she could from the forest before The Weeping Monk slaughtered Squirrel's rescue party, but she hadn't touched any of it.

Randvi walked through the forest, huge trees surrounding her on all sides as she pulled back prickling needles that stood in her way which caused her to get scratches across her cheeks and her hands. Randvi grabbed onto the branches of the trees as she hiked up the steep hill, and that's when she heard the clash of metal on metal. Her eyebrows furrowed at the noise and she quickly pulled herself up the climb to come out onto a dirt pathway trailing through the trees.

Randvi turned her head in the direction of the sound, and followed the noise as it got louder and louder to her ears. "Papa!" she heard a small child cry and then another sound of metal clashing against something. Randvi picked up her skirts and ran down the dirt pathway.

The pathway led her into a small caravan that was currently overrun by six Red Paladin's, and Randvi felt her rage pour into her magic as she witnessed a little girl with antlers getting carried away from her mother's grasp. The fury she felt choked in her throat as she remembered her own village up in flames, and the high-pitched screams coming from her small community when the Red Paladin's came to slaughter everyone she had ever known.

She thought of the little boy Nimue had been looking for when DewDenn became overrun with Red Paladins. She thought about the Weeping Monk, and how he had kept the little boy captive to lure others out of hiding. Randvi was not going to let another child get hurt by these people, not the Red Paladin's, and not the Weeping Monk. Her anger drowned out all the fear she felt.

Randvi felt the familiar tingle in her fingertips whenever she conjured her magic forward, the Hidden becoming one with her soul as the markings of her species lit up her body with it's own unique constellations. Randvi reached forward, towards the Red Paladin with his sword up in the air to strike down a male Fey, and he was stuck in mid-air.

Randvi gritted her teeth while fighting the Paladin's own strength trying to overthrow her magical hold onto him. Her milky, glowing eyes snapped towards the faces who turned to take a look at its new attacker. The Hidden throbbed strongly into her ears as she breathed harder and harder while she stared them all down.

The Red Paladin's had stopped their slaughter for a moment to look back at the girl, one of them had widened their eyes out of fright as Randvi finally spoke, "Who wants to be first?" Her voice boomed throughout the forest as her eyes traveled towards each Paladin, studying each of their expressions as they all looked at each other.

One of the Red Paladin's looked towards his brothers in arms and when no one made the move to advance forward, he slapped the nearest brother on the back of the head," What are you guys waiting for?" He knew that if Father Carden was watching them, they all looked like cowards staring down the face of a little fey with courage. "Look with your own eyes, she's just one Druid whore!"

Randvi's eyes narrowed towards the man with long brunette colored hair, and a stern expression on his aged face. He was standing in the middle of the slaughter and in that moment, Randvi quickly decided that was going to be the last sentence that would ever come out of his mouth again.

Randvi flexed her fingers around the magic flowing through the air, and towards the sword she had been magically holding still before the Paladin could strike down another fey. The sword was forcefully ripped out of his hold, twisted forward into the air with a whooshing sound, and then sliced through the neck of the Red Paladin with ease.

Randvi let go a breath she didn't know she had been holding in as her eyes darted from one to the other while they launched their attack towards her direction. Randvi called forth her magic once again, and directed an orb of fire barreling through the air, towards the Paladin's. It exploded on impact and the sheer screams of the Red Paladins was music to her ears as the fire grew around their fallen bodies.

One Paladin managed to somersault out of the way from the blast of fire, and Randvi's turned towards him as he grabbed a sword out of the hands from his fallen brother. The man turned around to face her, questioning her with a frightened stare, "What kind of demon are you?" he snarled in her direction.

Randvi simply smiled, and it was probably the most menacing thing the Red Paladin ever saw. He saw magic like no other, flowing through her veins with white markings like the devil incarnate. "Probably the one from your nightmares, I assume?" She replied as she twiddled her fingers towards the ground, drawing the magic from the earth.

Randvi took a deep breath, feeling the Hidden course through her veins was a different feeling entirely. It was a high that she couldn't explain, she felt the build of magic in the pit of her stomach, like butterflies flying upwards. The Paladin began to walk towards her and Randvi immediately shot her hands out in front of her, and a path of fire erupted in its wake. It crawled across the dirt pathway, directly towards the Paladin as the magic surged forward with Randvi's mental guidance. She imaged a circle of fire, and then the path branched outwards on both sides and trapped the man inside the wall of hot flames.

The screams of the children from her village fueled her fire even higher as the flames reached to dance with the sky, and Randvi felt her magic surge so powerful that blood began to leak from the corners of her eyes, and drip down onto her cheeks. The sting of blood mixing with her fresh scrapes on her face, but she couldn't feel the pain of her minor injuries, just the pain of sadness in her chest of the ones who she had lost.

She could see Astrid's hand held out for her to grab, only to have a sword shoved through her middle. She could see her mother's lifeless body bleeding out, and her villagers fight for their lives, only to lose a battle they couldn't win.

Randvi felt tears prick at her eyes as her magic lashed out and covered the ground in a bed of ash, and the Paladin that had been trapped in the circle was nothing more than a skeleton. His bones had been charred black from the heat, and Randvi collapsed forward to her knees, her magic leaving her body all at once.

Her fingernails dug into the ash below her as she regained control of her breathing, her eyes shutting tightly as her heart hammered away in her chest. Her white orbs soon returned to their natural purple color as she felt the last of her magic still, and the markings of her ancestors left her body until they were called forth once again.

Randvi suddenly felt a hand rest on the bottom of her elbow. Her head instantly snapped upwards to look towards the same fey she had saved from the Paladin's blow. She flinched slightly when she felt his hand on her arm, but soon her shoulders began to relax at the feeling of someone touching her. It was something she was going to have to get used too now that her village was no more than a memory.

"Are you alright, miss?" He questioned her. His voice was soft but low at the same time. The Fey helped her off of the ground and onto her shaking legs.

"Yes, I'm fine." Randvi gave him a warm smile as a reassurance to him, which managed to make his worried expression wash away. She was physically alright, but her magic drained her body and made her feel loopy. "What about all of you?" She directed her question towards the small group of fauns.

"Have you been sent to save us?" One of the little girls questioned her, her wide brown eyes peeping out from behind her mother's leg.

Randvi glanced down towards the little girl, hair tied back from her face but still managed to look unruly against her medium skin tone. Little buds of bone came out on both sides of her forehead, indicating her horns were just sprouting. "I don't know, maybe I have." Randvi began to kneel back down to her height as she pushed away from her mother's leg.

Randvi had never had much luck with children, and it wasn't because she was a good caretaker. Most children heard terrible stories of the Fire Fae, and almost all of them were made to sound worse than they really were. Randvi had heard some of the stories, that Fire Faes were brought from the Earth below to wreck chaos onto their beautiful Earth and that's why they had to be 'locked' away, as some would say.

Randvi actually adored children for their innocent nature, and have always got along with the ones that weren't afraid of her. "I think you are." The little girl approached her carefully, her wide innocent eyes darting to where her markings would be if she conjured them forth.

Randvi smiled as her eyes followed her every movement. The little girl had an intricate design of dark leaves birthmarked around her forehead, weaving through her curls and twisting around her horn nubs. Randvi held her palms towards the sky and conjured the littlest of magic she could, and a small spark of fire danced upon her palm.

The small child looked frightened at first once the white markings appeared on her skin, but slowly leaned towards her with a goofy smile. "Well, what am I supposed to say to that, huh?" Randvi joked with the child, her teeth showing as she grinned.

"Where you headed to the sanctuary as well?" The mother of the little child questioned her, her eyes soft as she watched Randvi interact with her curious daughter.

Randvi didn't know anything about a sanctuary, and the confused look on her face was enough for the Fey mother to continue explaining. "The sanctuary is where all the fey are gathering with the Green Knight. He promises safety for our children, while he rallies for our freedom against the Red Paladins."

Randvi held onto every piece of information she was given. She wondered if perhaps, this Fey Sanctuary would be where she would find answers regarding Gawain. There was also the manner of finding this powerful sword that her mother told her about. Randvi was not even sure what she would do with it once she found it, her mother never explained it's importance to her ancestors.

"I would like to see this sanctuary.. that is, if you'll allow me to join you." Randvi pushed off of the ground from her kneeling position. She looked towards the trashed caravan and the goods left on the bodies of the dead.

"Of course, we would never turn our backs on a sister." The man smiled as Randvi's lips turned up into a grin. "I'm Eldan, and this is my wife and our two children." He introduced them to her, and Randvi smiled back at them.

"Randvi. My name is Randvi." She said breathlessly. Eldan and his small family had grabbed everything they could manage to carry before they set off into the Minotaur Mountains. Randvi walked towards the bodies, covered with singed red capes, as a shiny object blinded her eyesight from the sun pouring over them.

Randvi covered the top of her forehead as she reached down and grabbed the sword from his body. She had never used a sword before, but having one on her person would prove useful regardless if she knew how to wield it correctly.

Randvi put the sword up towards the sky, overlooking the blade before yanking a sword belt out of another fallen. Randvi clicked the sword belt into place at her waist, and then looked towards the small family of fauns.

Chapter Text

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ACT ONE: PROPHECIES

CHAPTER SEVEN

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

RANDVI HAD DECIDED THAT IT WOULD BE SAFER FOR ALL OF THEM TO CONTINUE THROUGH THE TREES RATHER THAN STICK TO THE ROAD. They were on the main pathway which shared routes from Gramaire, the Abbey, and into the Minotaur Mountains. Needless to say, the pathways they were following, was a dangerous route. It was a risk, but a risk they were all willing to take.

After Randvi and the group of Fauns she had managed to rescue, had gathered all they could salvage from the wreck of their trashed caravan. They couldn’t hide the mess she had made, that was for certain but she could take whatever was useful, and lower the Paladin’s supplies. It wasn’t much but it was something.

They made sure to pack the leftover food that had not been scorched by Randvi’s conjured fire. The fauns managed to salvage what they could through the wreck, and under the ashes were their bows. They were now ready in case they were attacked, along with Randvi’s own magical powers, Eldan was sure they could take care of small parties of Paladin’s. Randvi also got a sword but it was uncomfortable and unnatural in her hand. She had never carried one before but she supposed now would be a better time to learn than any.

“I have to admit, I have not seen any fey wield the powers that you command.” Eldan glanced towards her. They had been traveling for more than two hours through the magical forest of overgrown trees, and moving flora, and Randvi was very quiet.

Randvi looked over her shoulder for a moment, her eyes glancing upon Eldan’s wife traveling behind them. She had been helping the smaller child who Eldan had introduced her as Jun. She was a pretty girl with hair just as wild as her older sister, but her horns had not sprouted yet.

“I wish I could tell you this fascinating story of my powers but I’m afraid I was born this way.” Randvi told him as she returned her gaze towards Eldan. Her hand lifted some vines out of the way, and she walked through them. “My mother used to tell me that I was the Hidden’s chosen one; whatever that means.”

Eldan nodded as she continued on explaining her magic. He had been curious about her, for he had seen no such thing as someone having purple eyes, and how they shone with white magic when she called upon the Hidden for their help in aiding.

“What about your parents?” Eldan questioned as she mentioned her mother but Randvi had been traveling alone, as far as he could tell.

“The Red Paladin’s attacked our village at dawn…” Her voice became quiet as she looked down at the mossy pathway they had been following in the forest. She hadn’t talked much about her parents and their death, perhaps it was because she didn’t have anyone to talk with. She would have turned to Astrid for these things but she was gone too. “..They didn’t make it.”

She hadn’t even had the time to properly grieve her losses. Randvi had been running ever since her village went up in flames. Whenever she did have the time, something would go wrong. Something would happen and she has to run again.

Eldan slowly removed his eyes off of Randvi’s face as her eyes shined with tears, and her mouth curved downwards at the memory he had unintentionally put into her head. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Randvi turned her head to deliver him a weakened smile. She wanted to thank him for giving her his sympathies but the more she thought of it, the more she questioned how her life was before. She wondered if she would have ventured beyond her village walls if she wasn’t forced. She wondered what her life would be like if her parents did survive: Would her mother still try to shelter her from the real world? Would she still have this distance in her relationship with her father? Randvi couldn’t blame him for it, not really. Myror was one of the woodcutters for the village, and the man worked all hours, everyday.

She understood that he had demands, and he couldn’t be there for her through everything. Now that she did have the time to stand back and understand things, Randvi wished she would have spent more time with her father.

But what could she do now? He was gone. They were all gone and she was alone in the world.

Eldan noticed she didn’t say anything else and the conversation slowly started to dwindle as they continued to trek through the trees. Randvi’s eyes studied the path forward, the fallen logs on the ground were starting to rot from the rain that had fallen a few days prior.

Her eyes lifted towards the horizon and that’s when her gaze fell upon a strange vine, weaved together in an intricate symbol. Her lips parted slightly in realization when she recognized the symbol and the language it stood for.

“The symbols . .” Randvi muttered under her breath and picked up her pace through the forest, Eldan following closely behind her while waving towards his wife and children.

A swirl made out of vines weaved together to make the symbol inside of a circle that had a point at the top, and Randvi quickly studied them closely. “We have to go west,” Randvi turned her face to glance at the family she had been accompanying when her eyes landed on another high in the tree. “There’s another.” she spoke and brushed past Eldan’s wife and studied the next one.

This one was more complicated in design, the weaving done with a smaller branch that had tons of limbs, sprawled out in a swirl but the ends facing the same direction. “.. follow.” she muttered out while gazing at the design.

She had studied these exact symbols and their meanings when she was a small girl. Her mother had taught her every symbol of old fey, and the language. Sora believed they were important to learn, always telling Randvi that she might need to understand them someday, and perhaps her mother was right. She did need them, in this exact moment.

Randvi reached into the tree to touch the symbol. The pad of her fingertips touched the branches lightly and her mouth parted as her magic sputtered like flint against steel. The tiny fey symbol caught fire and Randvi gasped out, pulling her hand away quickly.

She watched as the symbol turned to ash before her eyes, sadness overcoming her features as she was reminded how uncontrollable her magic could be. Eldan glanced at her but then turned his attention towards his hungry children.

“We’re getting closer but night will be upon us before we know it.” She pulled away from the trees, “How far is the sanctuary?” she questioned him as her hands crossed in front of her chest, a gesture to keep her hands away from anything that was flammable.

Eldan noticed her body getting smaller, as if to shield herself from the world. He didn’t say anything, afraid she would shy away from him trying to comfort her. Instead, he looked up ahead. The trees were in his line of vision, like an umbrella of leaves protecting those below from the sun and sky. The peaks of the mountains could be seen through the trees, but he wasn’t sure how much longer they had yet to trek.

The forest had inclines and even steeper drops, and taking children along was a task all on it’s own. “It’s hard to tell without a vantage point, perhaps half a day? Though, we wouldn’t make it before dark.”

Randvi nodded and looked around the forest. The pathway they were following just inside from the treeline was just a foot from where they were standing. They would have to venture further into the forest to set up a place to sleep, and prepare a fire to keep warm throughout the night, “We should find somewhere to set up camp.”

He was about to agree with her when the sound of horses hooves hitting the dirt pathway entered his ears and made him pause. Randvi heard it as well but when she opened her mouth to question it, Eldan held up his finger, “Do you hear that?” he whispered towards her and Randvi turned her head to look towards the road.

She didn’t see anything at first until they were right in front of them. Randvi’s eyes widened as she reached out to grab Eldan’s coat. “Get down!” She whispered, pulling on his arm.

Randvi couldn’t breathe. It felt like her lungs were afraid to even attempt to suck in a breath, terrified that the sound of her breathing would be enough to give them away. Her shoulders hunched forward as the large carriage came into view. Dragged by two horses while two Paladin’s protected the rear, and two more sat to steer.

“Papa, I’m scared.” Over her shoulder one of Eldan’s daughters, Aerilyn, spoke out in a high pitched voice. Randvi turned her head to glance back at the small child, her eyes softened as she saw the frightened look on the small girl’s face. Eldan reached out to hold his daughter’s hand and hushed her quietly.

“Let us pass, brothers.” Randvi’s heart rate increased as two more men on black steeds came from the opposite direction, and stopped in front of the wagon.

“Turn around.” Another Paladin said with no emotion, as he stood in front of the pathway, blocking to wherever they were going. “We’re to shut off the roads to Gramaire.” he announced and Randvi looked back towards Eldan. “Orders of the Weeping Monk. Seems the Fire-Born Witch has been hiding at Yvoire Abbey, and she brought a friend.”

Fire-Born Witch? Randvi didn’t know any other fey species that commanded fire unless one of her kind had escaped. There was a probability that Astrid made it out of the slaughter alive, but it was slim. Could the Red Paladin’s be speaking of her, calling her the Fire-born witch? She was rather confused about the nickname she had gained. None of the Paladin’s had escaped her wrath, except for the man who had been wrapped into the vines from Nimue.

“Did they get her?”

“Not yet but she won’t get far.” The red brother spoke smugly, “They don’t have the sword.” The Paladin pulled out a large sword, the pummel decorated with ruins at the base as he uncovered the blade from it’s burlap sack.

A dull ache in the back of Randvi’s head began to throb as she stared ahead. She watched him pull something, and set it down beside him but the wagon prevented her from seeing the blade in the flesh. Randvi wanted to focus on what they were saying, but she couldn’t with the whispering. She wondered if anyone else could hear it? It was awfully loud, she thought to herself.

The dull ache turned into a full out sharp throb, and a ringing sound started in her ears. Randvi leaned forward slightly while touching her temple with the pad of her finger. A pained groan erupted from her mouth as she tried to focus on the Paladin’s but she couldn’t hear anything with the sharp ring in her ears.

From beside her, Eldan began to see the white threads that grew on Randvi’s skin before she even noticed they began their climb. It started with each fingertip, illuminating her temple with her white magic and then crawled it’s way downwards to mark her body with pathways towards her sleeves and over the curve of her cheeks.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Eldan whispered towards her, trying to keep hush but the situation with her magic began to make him feel nervous. “You’ll get us killed.” He didn’t mean to sound as harsh as he did, and Randvi didn’t take it that way anyways, but his tone was more snappy.

Her eyes opened to reveal a blinding white where her usual purples eyes resided. Her teeth were clenched while her nails dug into the earth next to her knees. “I don’t know what’s happening.” Randvi hissed out in pain while holding her head down towards her knees. “Can you hear the ringing?”

Eldan shook his head as his eyes never left the Paladin’s in front of him, standing a few feet just ahead. He knew that just a slight use of magic, of Randvi’s magic, would reveal their location to the Paladins. There were six of them standing in the pathway, and Eldan knew that Randvi wouldn’t be able to fight them all off, even with his help, not without the cost of their lives.

Randvi began to focus more on her breathing than what the Red Paladin’s were talking about. Her fingertips started to tingle as her magic came forth, the hidden whispering in her ears of words she could not understand. Her eyes fluttered close and without warning, she saw a glimpse of a sword. Blood was dripping from the tip of the blade and a hand holding a cloth, cleaning the evidence of bloodshed from the steel but it wouldn’t take the stains from the hands who wielded it.

A glimpse of black, another of red. White hair and skin. Material descending from the skies, glistening like falling snow. A hand stretched out, shaking, bloody and bruised.

Randvi’s eyes rapidly moved behind her closed lids and Eldan looked down at her, her raven locks bent down between her legs as she whimpered. Her fingers dug into the Earth below her, fingers bent unnaturally as vivid pictures of things she didn’t understand flickered before her eyes.

The ringing began to finally dull into a more normal headache, something Randvi could continue with but the flip of her stomach caused bile to rise in her throat. When her eyes opened, Eldan noticed the dazed expression softening out her hardened features. The girl looked exhausted, not just mentally but physically as well.

“We’ll bring it to Father Carden.” Without the ringing in Randvi’s head, it was easier to hear the Paladin’s ahead as they continued to fight. “You stand in the road all night.” The Paladin who spoke left nothing to be debated as he flicked the reins, hitting the horses on their rears to make them move forward.

Randvi’s eyes moved towards Eldan with a frightened look on her features. There were now patrols on the roads where they were headed, ordered by the same man she had been running from. Randvi knew they wouldn’t be able to stay close to the road from now on, in fear they would make too much noise and alert the paladin’s right to them. Eldan sensed the same concerns as Randvi, and turned his attention to his wife’s widened gaze, a hand clamped over her child’s mouth out of fear of making the tiniest noise.

Eldan placed his finger on his lips, gesturing towards his children that they needed to remain quiet as they carefully moved through their hiding spot. Randvi kept her head low, creeping slowly away from the road and further up the same way the carriage was heading. They needed to cross the paths to head into the mountains and the pathway to their salvation just grew a little harder.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

THE GREY MONK had left the Abbey after finding no lingering signs of Fey. But he did manage to uproot the start of the problem before she had a chance to save more lives of those who couldn’t be saved without the cleanse of the sword. Father Carden quickly ordered the removal of Abbess Nora with no hesitation, after learning from another that she had lied about having another girl in the Abbey.

The brunette haired girl, quick to bring the situation to the Weeping Monk’s attention. He remembered the hatred in her gaze as she spoke about the new girl, Alice, and how she wasn’t present when the alarms sounded. He remembered the look on Abbess Nora’s face, the clench of her jaw and how her eyes fell with a silent plead.

The Monk had asked her questions but her answers were different than he had hoped for. He had questions about the girl, about the color of her eyes and he was slightly disappointed to learn that this… Alice did not have the striking purple eyes.

Regardless if the description of the fey matched the same woman from his nightmares, he had ordered the roads to be closed. He had set up patrols to survey the areas from Gramaire and the path leading towards the Abbey, and the Mountain.

The Red Paladin’s worked on small illustrations of the fey women who managed to infect the Abbey with their sins, and the Monk asked them to be hung in every town, on every carcas they slayed on the way, and the trees. The cloaked monk looked down at his drawing, the details of the woman fresh in his mind. The shade of purple that colored her eyes were mesmerizing, the look of terror in her eyes that slowly turned into confusion as he loomed over her frame, trapped between him and the slab of rock underneath her.

The way her tiny hands fit over his neck, and the marks she had left on his skin that had not healed. He had hid them under his cloak, unable to stomach the look of them as he would remember the look in her eyes, the confidence. He should have known. He should have seen it coming but he was so caught up in her gaze that he didn’t see.

The Weeping Monk swallowed the lump in his throat as he held on tighter to the reins attached to his horse, Goliath. He had left the Abbey with the task of finding the fire-born witch, the same witch who left her mark on his body. She had stained him that day with her touch, and he had tried to beat the stain out of his soul, but as he pleaded for mercy with his god - there was no answer. Only darkness. Only hums of the devil’s work.

His mouth pursed as a small caravan approached his front, and his lips parted as he stopped his horse along the path. He couldn’t see the driver’s face from the distance but he saw the way his body tensed upward once he started to dismount Goliath.

His blue eyes glanced back towards the caravan as he walked his black horse towards the trees, tying the rope around one of the branches as his gaze flickered back and forth towards the wagon and the rope.

The Weeping Monk pulled back the cloth concealing the back of the wagon, six pairs of eyes stared back at him. Alarmed and afraid as the monk glanced upon the tusk. He paused for a moment before reaching his hand in and pulling the grey haired man out by force before thrusting his sword through his stomach. Screams filled the forest as the monk disposed of the fey smugglers, blood splattering over the scenery around him. The monk approached the driver who was on his knees, and begging for his life. “No! No!” he cried while the monk continued forward, each step more threatening than the last.

“Who runs the caravans?” he questioned as the man started scrambling backwards at the sight of blood dripping from the monk’s sword.

The monk watched as the man’s lip trembled as he choked out, “I don’t know!”

His jaw clenched at the words of the Fey smuggler, his nostrils flaring out of annoyance. He was starting to waste the Weeping Monk’s time, and everyone knew how that played out for those unlucky enough to cross his blade. His heavy boot pulled upwards and planted itself right onto the man’s knee. A vile cracking sound filled the Monk’s ears while he looked up at the sky, a wave of sickness coming up through his stomach at the man’s bones breaking.

He looked back down, his eyes piercing through the smuggler’s frame. “I’ll ask you one more time: who runs the caravans?” His voice was stern, which made the driver look up from his broken leg, eyes full of tears as he breathed out his answer.

“His name is Dizier!” The man cries out, “He runs a wagon filled with leather goods!”

The Monk’s eyes narrow down at him, studying his face of any hint of a lie washing through his expression. When he didn’t detect that he was lying, he questioned him once again. “And a woman: purple eyes.. Have you seen her?”

The man’s eyes squinted in confusion, rapidly searching the monk’s stone cold exterior as he waited. “I haven’t seen anyone like that! Please, I’ve given you everything you asked for!” he cried.

He sucked his cheeks into his teeth before delivering the final blow at the sound of horses approaching his rear. “Please, Please! Have mercy on me!” The smuggler cried a final time before the Weeping Monk thrusted his sword up through his belly, coating his blade with more blood of the sinners.

He turned around after pulling a cloth tied around his sword belt, and cupped the blade into his palm. His eyes followed the movements of his hand, cleaning the blood off of his sword as he continued to walk towards the approaching brothers.

His eyes looked upwards as he stopped in front of them, “These caravans are run by a man named Dizier.” His voice was low and quiet as he fed the brother the information, “Drives a wagon full of leather goods.” He then gestures with a turn of his head, “Go.”

He sheaths his blade inside his belt and continues to clean the blood off his fingers, trying to scrub them clean as Father Carden takes a look at the scene in front of him. “How many?” his voice is hoarse as he approaches his son.

The monk lifts his eyes, “Just one. A Tusk.” the word lingers in his mouth as he continues to pick the blood out from underneath his fingernails.

Father Carden looks at the wagon, his voice sounding slightly displeased. “Still, another smuggler off the road.”

“I found something else,” the Monk spoke as he began to walk deeper in the forest. Father Carden wasted no time on following behind him as the monk approached a moss covered stone. “There in the trees . . and on the ground,” he gestured towards the symbols hidden in plain sight.

The monk’s eyes followed the swirls written on the ground. The dirt had been uprooted, as strange symbols made of branches had been woven in the trees. He stopped alongside one, reaching out to touch the singed branch with wonder in his blue eyes. “What are they?”

He didn’t take his eyes off of the symbol that looked like it had been burnt by something, “Directions.”

“To where?”

Father Carden watched with curious eyes as the monk touched the branch and his breath caught in his throat. He felt the tingles in his fingertips and quickly drew his hand back from the symbol before his hand could expose his true nature. “I only have pieces,” he answered him quickly. “Somewhere North. Toward the Minotaur.” He turned his head to gaze at Father Carden’s aged face, “A sanctuary.”

“The caravans, they move one, two at a time, but . . . this..” he gestured back towards the symbols. “This is where we’ll find them all.” The Weeping Monk looked back at the branches that had been touched by fire, and had been touched by her.