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Chapter Text

The people of Neathholm give Maebrys and Nehaly a wide berth after their meeting with Sull. Maebrys can’t blame them for that; Nehaly can be mighty intimidating, at least before people realize her teeth and claws are reserved for demons. It’s not odd for people to shy away at the first sight of her, before they realize she’s just a big softie.

But as she moves through the cave, it dawns on her that this is something different. The people here are looking at Maebrys, not just the hound she rides. They watch her with some wariness- but also with no small amount of awe. Like they're waiting for her to snap her fingers and bring the sun crashing down on them. Maebrys fidgets under their stares; she's never been shy, really, but this is...it's strange, and she has to fight off the urge to sink down and hide in Nehaly's fur.

“I told you,” Lann says, his voice brimming over with excitement. “You’ve inspired them!”

At least someone is enjoying this. Lann’s just as starry-eyed as his fellows, if not more. He’s been like this ever since Maebrys stumbled upon the Light, and his fervor only grew when she recreated the miracle for the village at his insistence. She can still feel the warmth of it prickling like soft nettle on her fingers.

“Don’t get too excited,” Maebrys warns, shifting under the weight of all the attention. “I don’t know how helpful this power actually is yet.”

“Hey now, don’t sell yourself short,” Seelah says firmly. “Whatever this is, it’s surely a blessing from Iomedae.”

Despite her discomfort, Maebrys can’t deny the smile slowly forming on her face as the thought sinks in. Seelah is a paladin- an actual, official paladin of Iomedae. If she says this new power is a blessing…well, she should know what she’s talking about, shouldn’t she? The idea that Seelah and Lann might be right- that Iomedae has indeed decided to bestow something special upon Maebrys, has gifted her this chance to prove herself- is at the same time both thrilling and terrifying.

Why now? Why Maebrys?

She doesn’t have a clue. But she’s determined to prove herself worthy, both of Iomedae’s attention and of the trust her newfound friends have already shown her. They haven’t known each other long, but a part of Maebrys already wonders if her goddess has sent Seelah and Lann to her in the same way she sent the Light. Steadfast companions are worth their weight in gold, as she well knows. Even Nehaly agrees, her tail wagging excitedly as she pads alongside the two of them- though to be fair, she may simply be happy that Lann shared the roasted rat he’d prepared for dinner.

As they approach the edge of the village, Camellia comes into view, already armored and prepared for the next leg of their journey. She smiles when she sees Maebrys, but there’s no warmth to it; just a strained impatience. On her best days, Maebrys doesn't hold it against others when they look down on her; it's just the nature of taller folk, whether they realize it or not. But Camellia has turned the habit into an art form, and the effect is only heightened when her nose wrinkles at the sight of Nehaly.

“Are we finally ready to move on?” she asks, taking a deliberate step away from the hound. “I’m quite eager to leave these dreary tunnels behind and return to…”

She wavers in her words as her gaze floats from the panting Nehaly, to Lann in his patchwork armor, to the meager village behind them.

“…civilization,” she finishes primly.

Seelah mutters something under her breath, but Maebrys tries not to let her own annoyance show. If Iomedae has truly sent her blessings, it only makes sense that the goddess may also send her…challenges, as well. At least Camellia has stuck around, rather than storming off like Wenduag. Even with Camellia’s barely-concealed condescension, Maebrys can hardly complain. She has been granted powers from the heavens, and at least two companions upon whom she can depend upon.

And when Iomedae grants a blessing and an opportunity, Maebrys knows better than to squander it.

Chapter Text

To someone who’s spent most of their life patrolling the countryside- someone like Knight-Commander Maebrys, for instance- a big city like Drezen is a maze of luxury and novelty. Daeran and Camellia may claim the place is far beneath their usual standards, but still...it has its own temple, its own tavern, its own castle, for Iomedae’s sake.

But for all of that, Maebrys’s favorite place in the city is easily the training grounds.

The grounds aren’t anything special at all, really, and to be honest that’s probably why Maebrys ends up spending so much time there. It’s a place that lets her feel normal, which is a rare enough thing these days. And besides, why would she want to spend her days in the stuffy stone halls, arguing with Konomi, when she could be out here showing all of her recruits how a real warrior fights?

The only problem is that most of the recruits are just a tad too nervous to face the Knight-Commander herself, even in mock battle. It’s all a bit disappointing to Maebrys, until she realizes there’s one person who will never turn her down.

“Is that all you got?!” Seelah taunts, an exultant grin on her face as she parries against Maebrys’s attacks.

Maebrys doesn’t answer- she lets the ringing clang of steel against steel speak on her behalf, and the sound is music to her ears as she meets Seelah’s longsword with her own. As always, she and Nehaly are in perfect sync; the hound rears up in a move she’s executed thousands of times, and Maebrys moves with her, sword and claws in perfect harmony. Seelah’s focus slip as she flinches away from the coordinated attack, and Maebrys takes advantage of the distraction to twist her blade against her opponent’s. In one deft motion, the paladin’s weapon goes flying to the other side of the small arena, and the halfling warrior is once again victorious.

“Nice one!” Seelah laughs, once she’s caught her breath, and Maebrys is again reminded of why she chooses to spend much of her free time here. Seelah is a refreshingly good sport, and even after being defeated she takes the time to give Nehaly a friendly scratch behind the ears before she goes to retrieve her sword.

“You didn’t do too bad, yourself,” Maebrys replies, but Seelah gives a dismissive snort.

“I’d hope after all these years of work I’d be a little more than not bad. How about another match- maybe one-on-one to even the playing field?”

It takes Maebrys a moment to realize what Seelah is talking about, but when she does, she merely scoffs and leans forward in her saddle to give Nehaly an affectionate head rub. “No can do. I told you before- the hound and I are a package deal.”

Having to remind people of this fact still feels odd; even after all this time, Maebrys expects everyone to simply know the importance of the bond between warrior and hound. But no: here the knights keep their horses sequestered in the stables and the nobles give looks of pure offense when dogs are allowed in banquet halls. A respectable city, Maebrys has learned, is a strange and nonsensical place. It’s hardly any wonder her own people chose to settle so far away from the capital.

A sigh escapes her lips at those thoughts, and Seelah gives her a questioning look.

“You okay there, Mae?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Maebrys says, waving off her friend’s concern. She is no stranger to these pangs of nostalgia, and she doesn’t mean to bother Seelah with any of her old memories. “Just a little distracted, I guess.”

“By what?”

“It’s nothing, really.”

Seelah’s lips twist into her frown, but she reluctantly allows the matter to drop. “All right, if you say so. I’m not one to pry, just- you know you can talk to me if you need to, right? I imagine it can’t be easy, having all of this hanging on your shoulders.” As she speaks, she motions to their surroundings, to Drezen, to the newly transformed Sword of Valor distantly fluttering in the breeze over the castle

Maebrys almost denies the sentiment- she is a protector, after all, and she is only doing her duty. But the instinctive words die in her throat, and instead she gives a small nod and quietly says, “Yeah. It's a big change, that's for sure.”

The worries are allowed to stay for only a moment, however, before Maebrys shakes them off again. “And I appreciate the offer, Seelah. But honestly, this-” she draws her longsword once more, and Nehaly yips with excitement, “-helps more than anything. Makes me feel almost…”

“Normal?” Seelah supplies with an understanding grin. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes hitting things with a sword is the only thing that makes sense, isn’t it?”

“My thoughts exactly. Does that mean you’re ready for another rematch?”

Seelah chuckles, eagerly shifting back into a fighting stance. “I guess I’d better be- I’ve gotta try to win at least once, even if the odds are stacked against me!”

“Keep trying, then,” Maebrys says, readying herself. In the back of her mind, she's still wondering how she really fits into all of this- perhaps she always will be. But between the training grounds and the company she’s found herself in, she’s at least able to muster up an honest grin for her friend. “I could do this all day.”

Chapter Text

Maebrys stands with her toes just barely brushing the empty air beyond the cliffside. It’s a dizzying drop into the depths below- calling this place the Abyss is apt. Behind her, Nehaly whines and paws at the ground in agitation.

“It’s all right,” Maebrys tells the hound, though she must admit her own stomach is twisting in knots.

She can do this, she tells herself. This is who she is: a warrior for her people, an adventurer and explorer at heart. And this is just another place to explore.

Deep down, she knows it’s not that simple, really. Every monster she’s faced before, she could beat back with her sword; failing that, she could outrun the danger with Nehaly. But even she can’t beat back an entire city of demons, and she has nowhere left to run. This battle…it’s going to be different.

But Maebrys is different, too.

She takes a deep breath, sweeps her gaze one last time over the ridges and valleys of the Nexus, and gathers her courage. With one insane burst of faith and motion, she launches herself off the ledge.

New-grown wings spread and snap, pulling Maebrys upwards on instinct. The wind and speed of her flight knock the breath from her lungs in an exhilarating rush, but her body seems to know what to do all on its own. She wheels through the air, stretching her wings out even further as she climbs up the expanse of black which passes for a sky here in the Abyss.

Far below, Nehaly yelps in alarm. Maebrys narrows her wings and pulls herself into a dive, spiraling back down towards the cliffside until she flares her wings out again in an abrupt stop, the force of her flight kicking up a small cloud of dust on the ground below.

She’s breathless, laughing, energized. It’s the lightest she’s felt since being named Knight-Commander.

Nehaly is less pleased. The hound darts in a circle around Maebrys, sniffing and grumbling and checking her for wounds.

“I’m fine,” Maebrys assures her. “Honestly, you’re worse than a mother hen. Come on, it’s your turn.”

The suggestion is met with something less than glee. Nehaly was blessed just as Maebrys was, but she doesn’t seem to trust her own golden-white feathery wings. She keeps her feet planted firmly on the ground, giving her the appearance of some strange, grumpier cousin of a griffin.

After Maebry’s third flight, however, Nehaly finally relents. She jumps into the air with trepidation and much less grace than her huntress, but she eventually paws her way into the air at Maebrys’s side.

“There you go. It’s not so bad, is it?” Maebry asks. Her eyes drift to the city in the distance- the home of demons, the nest of evil, where violence is built into the very stones. She hasn’t set foot through the threshold yet; she’s been putting it off.

No more.

“I’m sure the others would like to see our new tricks,” Maebrys tells Nehaly. “Let’s go round them up. And then…we’re going off on a little expedition. It’s time to show those demons we’re not out of the game just yet.”

Chapter Text

Standing before Iomedae, Maebrys realizes she’s never actually been afraid of much in her life.

It’s no brag she’s making of herself. She’s been nervous and rattled and uncertain plenty of times; she’s anxious, for sure, so much of the time. She’s felt the rush of battle. She’s faced death.

But that’s not fear, she thinks now. Fear isn’t staring down a demon that might skin you alive and telling them to shove off. No, that easy. Fear is looking up at her goddess- Iomedae, the Lady of Valor, the embodiment of honor and justice and goodness- and telling her,

“No.”

The word comes out choked, but it’s clear. Somewhere through her own frayed nerves and racing heart, Maebrys registers the look of surprise- no, disappointment- on Iomedae’s face. The goddess furrows her brow and looks down at her follower in stern displeasure, and in the face of that intimidation Maebrys has the overwhelming urge to take it all back.

“No,” she says again. She feels so small here, but her voice is stable and soon the words are tumbling out. “I can’t give up these powers. I know where they come from, and I know they’re not the blessing I once thought. I know it’s all part of some game I don’t fully understand. I know why you want me to surrender them.”

“But I cannot.” Maebrys’s chest is tight, and Iomedae’s burning gaze is not helping matters. Still, she closes her eyes and she thinks of her brothers and sisters; she thinks of her people, both back home and in this city; she thinks of all that she has saved because she can do things that nobody else can.

Yes; she can do things nobody else can. So she has to do the things nobody else can.

“I cannot give up these powers. I’m using them for good things. I’m saving people. If I sacrifice something in the process…” Maebrys trails off, takes a deep breath, and then locks her gaze once more with Iomedae. “My Lady, you once gave up your own humanity for the sake of helping people. How could I do anything less than the same?”

Tears threaten the corner of her eyes, but she blinks them away. Iomedae’s face is unreadable, and Maebrys can only pray she understands. She’s terrified that she won’t.

A long moment passes. The goddess’s crimson cape flows in her wind. Her silver armor shines in the sun. Her voice echoes without effort as she bows her head and says, “That pains me to hear. But I came here to offer my advice, not to dole out my judgment. I shall not stand in your way- for now.”

A golden light gathers around the goddess, and the last words Maebrys hears are, “You have chosen your path. Now you must walk it.”

There is a flash of white, a rush of wind, and then Maebrys is left alone, with weak knees and a thundering heart and a decision she cannot bring herself to regret.