That evening, Melissa sat alone in her room at Katherine’s estate. Rhaine had placed her under house arrest until she returned—strictly confined indoors after sunset. During the day, she was permitted to care for Orion, but by nightfall, the doors were to stay shut.
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“Goodnight, my dear,” Katherine called softly as she retired to her quarters.
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“Goodnight, Lady Katherine,” Melissa replied.
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She closed her door, turned the lock with a quiet click, and exhaled slowly. The room fell into stillness. With careful intention, she cleared a small space in the center of the floor. Kneeling, she took a piece of chalk and drew a circle around her. “Goddess of the Evening Grace, I call to you,” she whispered, the words a practiced prayer. “Please guide me... show me what I must do.” She spread her tarot cards out across the floor, fingers trembling slightly with hope and hesitation. “Please, Goddess. Your servant needs your help.” The silence that followed pressed in on her like a weight. No answer came.
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Before she could speak again, the door creaked open. Melissa turned, startled—she had locked that door. Standing in the doorway was the little girl, Elle. “What are you doing?” Elle asked, tilting her head with innocent curiosity.
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Melissa’s breath caught. She scrambled to gather her cards, heart pounding. “I was... trying to speak with my Goddess,” she muttered. “But it seems I’m under house arrest from that, too.”
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“What is your Goddess’s name?” Elle asked as she stepped inside and picked up one of the tarot cards. She turned it in her small hands and looked up at Melissa. “Why is there someone with horses and chickens on this one?”
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Melissa smiled. She didn’t take Elle’s curiosity as rude—truthfully, she had been just like this when her mother first taught her about the cards.
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“Well,” she began softly, “to answer your first question, my Goddess is called the Evening Grace. She has no known true name. In my world, if you speak someone’s true name, you gain power over them.”
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Elle tilted her head. “How does that work? I’m Elle, but I can do what I want.”
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Melissa nodded with a knowing smile. “Elle is the name you were given, but your true name is something different. It’s the name etched into the roots of trees, long before man ever touched the earth. In my belief, everyone has a name that their soul answers to. The Evening Grace keeps hers hidden, because a true name is powerful. Sacred.” She gently took the card from Elle’s hands. “And this one? That’s the Farmer card.”
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Elle nodded. “What does the Farmer mean?”
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“Patience,” Melissa replied, placing the card back in the spread. “It means to do your chores, tend your duties. You can’t rush the harvest.”
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She paused, then squinted slightly. “Wait… how did you get past the guards, Elle?”
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Elle shrugged. “I just walked in. Nobody stopped me.”
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Melissa shook her head with a small smile. “I suppose they didn’t think you were a threat. I haven’t seen you around before, Elle. Where are you from?”
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Elle sat down inside the chalk circle, crossing her legs. “I traveled here on a big brown bear named Barkscratch,” she said with a playful growl, swiping the air like claws.
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Melissa chuckled. “That sounds like quite the trip. Did you come alone?”
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“No, I came with Mr. Eric,” Elle said matter-of-factly. “But he died along the way.”
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Melissa’s smile faded. “I’m sorry to hear that. Was he your father? Or maybe your brother?”
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Elle tilted her head thoughtfully. “No… he was just one of the town people.”
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Melissa furrowed her brow gently. “What town are you from?”
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“Silver Falls.”
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Melissa held her breath. “The army is going to Silver Falls,” she said gently. “They’re going to stop a bad person.” She didn’t mention the Church’s plan to burn the town—no reason to frighten a child.
“What made you decide to come here?”
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Elle hesitated. “The priest started acting strange. He ordered everyone in town to be baptized again.”
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Melissa furrowed her brow. “That doesn’t sound too unusual. Baptisms are a part of many religions.”
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Elle looked down, fidgeting with a corner of the chalk circle. “It wasn’t normal. After the baptisms, people started acting different. They gathered up anyone who hadn’t gone through it. They forced the ones they could... and the ones they couldn’t—they killed.”
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Melissa’s stomach turned. “That’s… awful.”
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“That’s why Eric and I ran,” Elle said, her voice quiet. “The whole town changed. It wasn’t home anymore.”
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Melissa decided to change the subject. “Is this when you rode a bear?”
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Elle brightened. “Mr. Barkscratch! He helped us escape from some people who were chasing us.” She nodded enthusiastically. “We also met Winterfawn—I liked her. She was kind. She had wolves that helped fight the bad people.”
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Melissa blinked, trying to process the story. As unbelievable as it sounded, something about Elle’s tone made it feel real. “Do you normally talk to animals?” she asked, starting to suspect this little girl wasn’t an ordinary child.
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Elle nodded. “I talk to all the animals. The birds in the trees, the bugs on the ground. Just because we can’t always hear or understand them doesn’t mean they’re not talking to each other.”
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Melissa smiled at that thought—it was oddly comforting. “Who tells the best stories?”
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Elle tilted her head in thought. “Definitely butterflies and fireflies. Butterflies talk about the world they’ve seen, the places they’ve fluttered through.” She giggled. “Fireflies are always happy. Being near each other makes them so joyful that they can’t help but glow.”
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Melissa stood and walked to the doorway. “Well, you should be safe here. Let’s go see if Katherine has any treats for you.”
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Elle hopped up and joined her. “I’d like that. I like you, Melissa. You’re very kind.”
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Melissa paused for a heartbeat. She didn’t remember telling Elle her name. But she said nothing. Clearly, there was more to this child than met the eye.
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______________________________________________________________
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The army had stopped marching for the night. Campfires flickered across the camp, casting warm halos of light as soldiers cooked their evening meals. In the command tent, Rhaine sat hunched over a table, studying the latest orders from the Church. "The logistics of this..." she murmured, trailing off as her thoughts tangled. The scale of it all was overwhelming… so many ways things could go wrong.
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Alex stepped inside, carrying two bowls of steaming soup. "You can't work on an empty stomach," he said, placing the bowls on the table. He sat down and motioned for Rhaine to join him.
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She nodded, realizing how hungry she was. Sitting across from him, she took a spoonful and blew on it gently. "You're going far beyond just being a hired guide," she said with a faint smile. "Can you tell me more about your time in the Royal Guard?"
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Alex shrugged, taking a bite of his own soup. "Not much to tell. I served in the Queen’s Guard. When Queen Roshell traveled, we escorted her. When she wanted to walk the gardens, we followed behind like shadows."
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"And you were exiled just for speaking too much?" Rhaine asked, a teasing smile playing on her lips. She didn’t buy his earlier explanation.. there had to be more to the story.
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Alex chuckled. "Since we’re about to spill blood together, I suppose you deserve more of the story," he said, shifting in his seat. Rhaine could tell this wasn’t something he talked about often. "The Queen needed protection everywhere she went," he began. "But it was… difficult to stay loyal."
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Rhaine took another spoonful of soup. "Was she that bad to guard?"
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Alex shook his head. "No, the opposite, actually. She married the King as part of some political alliance. The details weren’t our concern. We had one job—protect the Queen." He set his spoon down in the bowl and leaned back slightly, his gaze growing distant. "She had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room when she spoke to you. Naturally, she drew a lot of attention."
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Rhaine nodded, watching the seriousness settle over him. She hesitated, unsure if she had the right to press him further.
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"One day, she wanted to walk in the Royal Garden. It was my shift, so I stayed back and watched her, like we always did," Alex said with a sigh. "In my ignorance, I did the worst thing a guard could do."
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Rhaine spoke gently, "You don’t have to say anything more. I was wrong to pry." She could see the guilt lingering in his eyes.
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Alex offered a faint smirk. "You're fine, lass. I watched her, and in that moment, I realized I loved her." He looked at Rhaine, then continued. "That’s when someone stepped out from the bushes and stabbed her."
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Rhaine said nothing. She didn’t need to. She could feel the weight lifting from Alex’s shoulders—because now, it rested on hers.
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"I killed the would-be assassin. The Queen survived, but that night I resigned from the Guard and went into exile. If I had been a better guard, she never would’ve been in danger in the first place."
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Rhaine struggled to find the words. She reached out and placed a hand on Alex’s—not out of affection, but out of compassion. She could feel the guilt radiating from him. "I see why you drink so much."
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Alex laughed. "Yeah, failure has a way of making ale taste better." He gently pulled his hand away and stretched. "Enough about me. What got you, Lady Rhaine, to where you are now?" He raised a brow. "I imagine a little Rhaine, hearing stories of the heroes of old, dreaming of bringing glory to the Church."
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Rhaine smiled. "My tale isn’t as noble as yours. I was dropped off at the church in Trendell. The orphanage took me in. They tried to guide me into becoming one of the Ladies of the Cloth, but I always wanted to join the military."
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Alex chuckled. "I can see you keeping all the other children in line. Bet you were a handful."
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Rhaine rolled her eyes. "We were doing so well," she said with mock annoyance. "Actually, the other kids left me alone. I was told I only ever talked about stopping the Darkness. The priests believed something must’ve happened to me before I arrived—something that made me that way."
She took another spoonful of soup, her voice quieter now. "Yeah... I wanted to stop the Darkness."
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