Chapter Text
In the stunned silence, Marella seemed to be the only one able to find her voice.
"What do you mean, you're the power source?"
Elysian quirked her head in the direction of her voice. Sophie could almost imagine her mouth curling into a smile under that hood. "Surprised?" She sounded amused.
Nobody answered. After a moment, Sophie realised that unless someone took control of the conversation, they wouldn't be getting much information out of it. She took a deep breath, shoving her panic and confusion into a box in the back of her mind to deal with later. "We need an explanation," she announced, startling herself with how confident she sounded.
Elysian's head snapped in her direction. "The Moonlark, yes?"
Sophie nodded her assent. Elysian seemed satisfied.
"I suppose an explanation is warranted, given the situation." Although they couldn't see under the hood, as Elysian slowly turned her head, Sophie could feel her eyes roving over the group. Her gaze felt like a subtle threat, wise and analytical, as if saying, m ake one wrong move and I will end you with a single snap of my fingers . Sophie suppressed a shiver. She had a feeling appearing weak in front of this mysterious new being would do nothing to further her case.
"All of you came here hoping to find me," she began, her voice rolling through the air in a way that was almost tangible. "None of you truly understand who or what I am." Her eyes sought out Sophie once again, this time slinking past her to rest on Keefe. "I was the first experimental elf of the Lost Cities."
Sophie felt her breathing go shallow, her heart jumping into her throat. "You don't mean-"
"I do. Aeons before you, Moonlark, and the Black Swan, there was another group of rebels intent on changing the laws and customs of the Lost Cities. They came incredibly close, too. Mostly because they designed me.
My purpose was simple; to help attain peace and then keep a firm grasp on it. My abilities were unique and unrivalled, unmatchable in their strength. Eventually, my creators seemed to forget that I was an elf too. They started asking me to perform more and more feats that only ended in calamity. I was reigning in more destruction than anything. After a while, I had simply had enough. I refused to follow their orders. When they resorted to forcing me to obey through physical violence, I took them down." Sophie could've sworn she saw the blindingly white flash of teeth from under the hood as Elysian said, "I'm certain they regretted making me so intelligent. So powerful. I was indestructible. But I had no interest in watching the Lost Cities burn. I wanted no hand in a rebellion. But now, my views may have changed. I've watched generations of genetically modified elves come and go, but none have shown as much promise as you, Moonlark." Elysian inclined her head in Sophie's direction, causing her to let out a small breath in surprise. "Don't be too flattered. It's still not enough." She held up her hand and Sophie stopped breathing because slung on every pale, slender finger was a chain connected to a Leaping Crystal. And they all looked horribly familiar.
"You have no escape," Elysian shouted over the commotion as everyone cried out, coming to the same realisation. She shot a look directly at Sophie. "I wouldn't try your teleportation, either. Not unless you fancy being lost in a portal-less void for the rest of your life. I'm not saying I will never help any of you. In fact, in the end, I believe I will need to make a decision - so prove to me that you are worth my time and my effort. I've been planting seeds throughout my entire life and currently, both sides are far from uncovering and connecting every last one." Elysian looked straight at Sophie again. "I'm rooting for you, Moonlark, whether you see it or not.”
With a dramatic flair of her cape, Elysian was gone once more. Immediately, the trolls sprang back into action, one charging straight for Sophie. She could mull over Elysian’s cryptic messages after she got herself and her friends out of this mess alive. The air was filled with noise once more, of weaponry clashing with teeth and claws, the cries of wounded and dying trolls, of Keefe and his mother, both trying to keep each other busy. Sophie struck again and again, her Inflicting leaving her in merciless bolts of power. She had lost the frenzy she had worked herself into earlier, but her power was effective nonetheless. Every troll she Inflicted upon fled, seeking the refuge of the underground. Finishing up on a particularly stubborn one, Sophie glanced up to see if the odds had evened up yet. She was stunned to see Fitz striking down the only troll left in the entire clearing.
“Fitz!” She yelled. He looked up in acknowledgement and she gestured towards where Keefe was still facing off Lady Gisela, relieved to see understanding cross his face. They ran over, with Maruca and Marella following suit. Gisela saw them coming. And laughed.
“Would you look at that?” She said delightedly. “You’re all in one place - this should be quick and clean.”
Sophie realised what was happening a fraction of a second before it did. Gisela reached into her cloak, the crystal shard in her hand glinting in the sunlight.
“ No! ” Sophie yelled, but Keefe was two steps ahead of her, using the flat of Hope’s blade to swat at his mother’s hand, the crystal sailing into the air. For one terrifying moment, Sophie thought it would land next to her and blow them up anyway, but the next it landed neatly into Keefe’s hand.
“I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” he said, pointing the dagger threateningly. His voice was calm and confident, but Sophie didn’t miss the small shake in the hand holding Hope. “I’m only going to ask once. Bring back Sandor.”
She snorted. “Or what? You’ll stab me?”
“He might not,” Fitz said, quiet, deadly. “But I definitely will.” He hefted Sandor’s sword, pointing it in her direction next to Keefe.
“And I won’t hesitate to burn you to a crisp,” Marella piped up. “So you might want to bring him back.”
“ Now ,” Sophie emphasised.
Gisela’s eyes darted between each of them, as if only just realising that she was outnumbered. She gritted her teeth. “Fine.” She tapped her earpiece. “Bring him back up.”
The ground tremorred slightly as a hole opened up a little ways away from them, a troll digging its way out and dragging Sandor along with it. He’s alive , Sophie thought frantically. He has to be . The troll didn’t return underground, however, staying by Sandor’s body instead. Keefe seemed to have noticed because his next demand was, “Tell the troll to leave.”
Gisela smiled thinly. “Gladly.” She jerked her head in their direction. The troll pounced. It knocked over Keefe, who toppled into Fitz. Sophie’s breath stuttered as she summoned all her strength for one last Inflicting, sending the troll rolling off their bodies with a cry of despair. It buried itself back into the ground, but it was too late. Gisela had disappeared.
Wasting no time, Sophie turned to Marella and Maruca. “Go check on Sandor. See if he’s alive. Please .” She couldn’t hide the note of desperation that crept into her voice. They nodded, sprinting towards the huge tangle of goblin limbs. She turned her attention to Keefe and Fitz. “Are you alright?” She asked, extending both her hands as they struggled to get up. They both accepted the help.
“I’m good,” Fitz said. Keefe nodded in agreement, but he was clutching at his arm. Before Sophie could ask about it, Maruca called out from where Sandor was. “Sophie! He’s alive!”
The three looked at each other in relief and ran to join her and Marella. “We think he’s waking up,” she said as they approached. Sophie nodded her thanks, not trusting herself to speak. She assessed the damage, noting claw marks on his chest, extending partly onto his neck, scratches on the exposed flesh of his face. Other than that, he was mercifully in one piece. His face twitched. Slowly, Sandor’s eyes blinked open. He had barely moved into full consciousness before he was up and on his feet, fast enough to make Sophie feel dizzy.
“Sandor! Slow down ,” Sophie said, afraid he might make his injuries worse. If he heard her, he simply chose not to listen. His eyes narrowed as he took in the scene, obviously noticing the lack of trolls - and the lack of Gisela. His hand shifted towards the holster for his sword, only to find it empty.
“Here,” Fitz said, offering him the sword.
“What happened?” Sandor asked, plainly confused as he carefully re-holstered his weapon.
“The trolls took you, remember? We convinced Gisela to bring you back,” Sophie explained.
“By ‘convinced’, she means Fitz and Keefe pointed sharp, pointy objects at her chest while we called the shots for once,” Marella interrupted. “I gotta say, it felt good .”
“Really?” Sandor almost seemed impressed. “Where is she?”
“She escaped,” Maruca said.
“But she’s stuck here, just like the rest of us,” Sophie said. “She’s not really going anywhere.”
“Well, neither are we,” Marella argued. “Like you said, we’re all stuck here.”
Sandor frowned. “I believe I missed something.”
“That, you did.” Sophie sighed. “We’ll explain in a moment. First we need to figure out what we’re going to do. We could be here for a while and from the looks of it, we need somewhere to recuperate.” She looked over her friends, who were all covered in nicks, scratches and cuts, lingering on Sandor’s wounds and where Keefe was still covering his arm. She noted that he hadn’t said anything since his mother escaped.
“Wasn’t there a river around here somewhere?” Fitz asked.
“Oh - yes!” Sophie exclaimed. “I think I remember where it is.”
“Perfect. You can lead the way then, and I’ll fill in Sandor.” Fitz lowered his voice so the others wouldn’t hear. “I thought you might want to check up on Keefe,” he said, worry evident on his face. “I don’t think he’s okay.”
Sophie blew out a small breath of appreciation. Thank you , she mouthed, grateful that he had let go of any grudges in the face of an imminent threat. If they wanted to make it through this, they couldn’t be arguing amongst themselves.
“Alright,” she said out loud. “Let’s go.”
~~~
“So,” Sophie murmured as she fell into step next to Keefe, leading the group. “Fancy telling me why you’ve been so quiet? I know your mother escaped - again - but there’s something else bothering you.”
Keefe huffed out a small laugh. “Some days I genuinely wonder how you haven’t manifested as an Empath yet.”
“ Keefe . I mean it. What’s wrong with your arm?”
“It’s nothing, just a small scratch-”
“Coming from you, that probably means you’re on your deathbed.”
“Come on, Foster-”
“Show me, Keefe.” When he hesitated, she added, “Please.”
Defeated, he lowered his hand, exposing a short but deep cut above his elbow, flicking into his inner arm. The surrounding cloth of his tunic was stained dark red. Sophie forced down the sudden influx of panic, trying to think rationally.
“How much blood have you lost?” She asked first, trying fruitlessly to mask the undertone of fear in her voice.
“Not much.” When she looked at him sceptically, he said, “No, really! My hand was stemming the blood flow.”
“Okay. Alright.” Sophie took another breath. “How did you get it? It looks more like a knife wound than claws.” She had a feeling she already knew the answer.
“My - my mother had a small blade under her cloak,” he said softly, looking away.
Sophie felt anger bubble up in her chest, pushing aside all her other emotions. On top of everything else that had happened today, the fact that Lady Gisela had purposefully wounded her son so badly made her want to find the woman just to punch her. Hard. Because that knife cut deeper than just flesh. It was confirmation, proof that she had forfeited all feelings that she may have once felt for her child. That no matter how badly he wanted to, Keefe would never be able to bring back the mother that he once thought might actually have cared.
“Foster?” Sophie was pulled from her fuming thoughts by Keefe’s voice. He had moved closer, careful to leave enough distance that his bloodied arm didn’t touch hers. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just taken her like that, I didn’t realise-”
“Keefe,” She said gently. “It’s not your fault. She shouldn’t get to hurt you like that. She shouldn’t get to hurt anyone.” She gestured for him to place his hand back on the wound. “Keep putting pressure on it until we have some way of treating it.”
“This is it, isn’t it?” He mumbled suddenly after a few seconds. “Here, in this place. It’s either us or her.”
Sophie thought of what Elysian had said in the clearing. Prove to me that you are worth my time and my effort. I've been planting seeds throughout my entire life and currently, both sides are far from uncovering and connecting every last one . They might be one step ahead for now, but this was a much longer game to play.
“Yeah,” she said, lacing their hands together. “It’s us or her.”