Author's Note: Dedicated to whoneedsthegreenbox for being awesome.

  After slicing off a few more shavings of soap and dropping them into the boiling water, Eileen grabbed a long-handled, wooden spoon from beside the fireplace and began stirring until the thin slices had completely dissolved. The scent of lavender soon filled the kitchen where she worked, helping to soothe her weary mind and taught nerves, but the flowery aroma was not strong enough to drive the darkest of worries from her mind. Only the steady rhythm of everyday tasks and physical labor helped keep those thoughts at bay.

  Once she felt the soapy concoction was ready, Eileen then began adding the pieces of dirty laundry one at a time, stirring occasionally with the over-sized spoon to ensure that every garment was sufficiently soaked. As the contents of the cauldron swirled and bubbled, her busy hands stilled momentarily. Without warning, the realization struck that these weren’t her clothes, nor were they Eva’s. That fact had already been self-evident, of course, considering she had been staying with Marissa’s family, but staring down at the wash just now like she was, the reality of the situation hit her anew and broke through her carefully constructed defenses to expose the raw ache that always lay hidden just below the surface.

  Three days, she counted to herself as a single tear coursed down her cheek. It’s been three days since I last saw my daughter, three days that she’s been someone’s prisoner…

  Clenching her eyes shut, Eileen took a deep breath and forced her wayward thoughts back to the task at hand. “The washing won’t do itself, young lady,” she echoed a phrase her mother had often spoken to her when she was younger. “More like ‘old lady’ now, I suppose.”

  “Leena,” Marissa’s mother, Liliwen, called as she entered the kitchen, “there’s a palace messenger here for you.”

  The wooden spoon slipped from her grasp and splashed into the boiling water, splattering the front of her apron in the process, but Eileen barely noticed as she hastily rushed into the main room of the house. The front door was still standing open, and there waiting on the threshold was a young boy who wore the brilliant blue sash of an official messenger. His ruddy complexion and disheveled hair suggested that he had run the entire way, which caused her heart to race all the faster in anticipation and fear of what he’d come to say.

  “What is it?” she asked in a rush, her anxious voice coming out a bit sharper than she had intended. “What message do you have for me?”

  “The king requests your presence, Miss,” he relayed while gasping for breath.

  “I come at once.”

  The young boy gave a stiff, awkward bow and then took off in a sprint towards the palace.

  Closing the door behind her, Eileen quickly turned back into the house to change into fresh attire. No matter how eager she was to find out what news Justian had for her, she couldn’t simply barge into the throne room wearing damp, sweaty clothes. It wouldn’t be proper. So, with a hurried stride, Eileen made her way to William’s old room that had temporarily become her own. After pulling her apron and tunic over her head and tossing them carelessly onto the bed, Eileen then spun around to the few articles of clothing Marissa had retrieved for her and paused in indecision. Her options were slim, but she couldn’t decide if she should don a dress or opt for pants and sword instead.

  “Wear the rose-colored dress,” Liliwen suggested from the doorway. “The color suits you best, and you’re off duty so you shouldn’t need to go armed.”

  “Thank you,” Eileen replied in earnest relief while jerking the dress down from its peg and slipping it on.

  With Liliwen’s help, she managed to freshen up and tidy her hair in very little time and was soon rushing down the steps into the street. As she wove through the bustling city, Eileen darted between clattering carts and sidestepped laughing children with her skirts held high above her ankles. More than once, she came close to tripping on the uneven cobblestones, and to her shame, she nearly toppled several unsuspecting individuals who made the unfortunate mistake of getting in her path. But whether by luck or by divine intervention, she managed to reach the palace gates without seriously harming herself or anyone else.

  Once she had passed under the imposing portcullis, she slowed her pace to that of a brisk walk in order to catch her breath and regain some composure. The Palace Guards standing watch over the main entrance saw her coming and hurried to open the doors, offering her a nod of recognition as she strode by. She gave them little heed, however. Her mind was set on reaching her destination, and nothing could distract her from that purpose. Then after what seemed like a lifetime, the grand doors of the throne room finally came into view. As she drew nearer, though, she noticed a lone figure exiting with his posture hunched in defeat. His ornamented cape and curly, salt-and-pepper hair easily identified him as Officer Duncan, but when he lifted his eyes to meet hers, he immediately flinched and shied away from her gaze, choosing to hurry past with head lowered rather than acknowledge her.

  A heavy weight settled within her, momentarily rooting her to the spot. Her gaze trailed after him as he disappeared down the hall before flicking back up to the gold-plated doors. Suddenly, she found herself hesitant to continue past them for fear of what she would learn. The Officer’s reaction didn’t bode well, and the urge to turn and run as far away from what lie beyond those doors tore at her soul, begging her to flee from the unwanted words. But she couldn’t. She had to know.

  After teetering back and forth on her feet in indecision for several moments, Eileen finally shuffled one step forward and then another as she fought against the fear. Soon, she was but an arm’s length from the entryway with the smooth, golden surface reflecting her distorted image back at her. Swallowing a breath, she cast apprehensive glances to the Warriors on her left and right, her comrades in arms. Their eyes were full of sympathy and concern, and following an encouraging nod from one of them, she finally found the strength to push open the heavy doors and slip between their towering forms.

  The quiet that greeted her was oppressive. This was nothing like the quiet reverence she sought within the confines of the cathedral. This reminded her more of the solemn heaviness that hung around the sickbeds of the dying. The sensation was disconcerting, to say the least. No one else occupied the room but her and the king, and he had yet to notice her presence. He sat leaning heavily on one arm of the throne with his face partially concealed by the hand in which it rested. All life and energy seemed to have been sucked out of him, leaving Eileen to wonder if he had slept at all in the past three days.

  “You called for me, m'lord?” She barely spoke above a whisper, but in the vast, empty room, her voice carried far.

  The king's head snapped up at the sound to find a frightened-looking Eileen hovering near the entryway with her back pressed against the double doors and hands hidden behind her. In that single instant, she looked more vulnerable and fragile than he had seen in a very long time, and just as it had in the past, the sight cut him to his core. Clearing his throat, Justian took a moment to straighten in his seat and smooth out the wrinkles of his shirt while he worked to reign in his thoughts and emotions. He was the king, after all, and had to appear as such.

  “Yes, I did,” he spoke at last, his tone full of authority. “Please, come closer.”

  She did as requested but haltingly. “Have you news of Eva?” she asked when only halfway to the dais.

  Justian was a long time in answering, and by the time he did, Eileen had already reached the base of the steps. “Yes, I do... Officer Duncan has informed me that after three days of thorough searching, he and his men have been unable to find even the smallest trace of where the attackers have taken her. He believes that any hope of recovering her is now lost and has recommended that we call of the search.”

  “What?” she screeched in a mixture of disbelief and outrage. “No! You can't!” Casting aside any remaining pretense of formality, she rushed up the few steps of the dais and threw herself at his feet, catching hold of his lower leg as she stared up at him pleadingly. “Justian, you can't give up. There is still hope. You have to keep searching; you have to find our daughter!” Tears streamed freely down her flushed cheeks as her throat tightened with barely restrained sobs. “Please... you have to find her.”

  Before her eyes, the king's reserve began to crumble along with his composure. With lids squeezed shut, he abruptly shifted his face away as he struggled to hold his true feelings in check, but he realized too late that he was at the last of his strength. The past few days had worn on him to the point that he lacked the emotional fortitude to withstand her heart-wrenching plea. When he finally turned back to meet her gaze, moisture streaked his face and even parts of his beard where the tears had finally escaped their bounds. With his heart shimmering in his glossy orbs, he slumped back against the padded throne.

  “I don't know what more to do, Leena. I've hardly thought of anything else than finding her and bringing her back to you, but how can I find someone who has seemingly vanished? What if it's already too late? What if she is already—”

  “Don't!” Eileen lifted a hand to halt his words. “Don't you say that to me, Justian. She is not dead. Do you understand me?”

  The king tried to look away, but she reached up and cupped his face between her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze.

  “Look at me,” she commanded in a voice quivering with emotion. “I would now if she were dead—I would feel it. Eva is not dead. She will come back to us. She will.”

  With a gentle shake of his head, Justian grasped one of her hands that was cupped to his face and pressed it more tightly to his cheek. “Always so sure of yourself... How can you be so confident?” he questioned softly.

  “I just have to,” she answered in a hushed tone, “but I'm not as brave as I pretend to be.”

  “You don't have to pretend with me, Leena.”

  “I don't?”

  “No,” he whispered, hardly noticing as his body moved forward of its own accord to be closer to her.

  “Oh,” she breathed in response while lowering her lashes to keep from looking at him directly.

  With his face merely a hand's width away, Justian paused a moment to take in her features anew. She was still just as beautiful to him now as the first time he saw her. “Leena,” he said when she still refused to acknowledge him.

  “Yes?”

  He waited until she finally lifted her eyes to meet his once more. “I love you.”

  Fresh tears sprung to life and followed the wet trails of others that had fallen before them. “I know,” she said at last. “And I love you.”

  He kissed her then, long and hard, with a desperation that shocked both of them. She responded with equal intensity, slipping her free arm around his neck and pulling him nearer. The deepest parts of her ached from being so close to him again, and she was afraid to let him go lest this moment prove to be just a dream and she would wake to find this moment to be false. After a time, however, reality began to slip in like shadows, and feelings of loss and heartache suddenly flooded her chest, forcing her to break away with a strangled sob.

  “What? What is it? What's wrong?” Justian asked frantically.

  Unable to answer, Eileen just shook her head and covered her mouth with both hands as her sobbing increased.

  Nearly beside himself with shame and guilt, Justian gathered her into his arms and lifted her into his lap where he then began rocking her silently. He knew most of the blame for her tears rested on his shoulders, but he wasn't sure what, if anything, he could do to ease her pain now. Feeling just as lost and afraid as she, the king cradled the weeping Warrior to his chest and tried his best to console her, but soon, his own tears joined hers as well. There, the two clung to each other and laid bare their soul, sharing in their grief together.

               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Whispered words floated to Eva through the stillness. Some were familiar, but others were not. They all called to her, beckoning her to draw nearer. “Just let go,” they gently urged. “You'll find only peace with us. Eva, come...”

  No, she answered with quiet force. I can't. Not yet.

  Fighting against their tempting pleas, Eva kicked and clawed with everything she possessed to make her way back to the surface. For a time, it seemed her efforts would be in vain, but like climbing out of a deep well, a small light soon appeared above her and then grew larger and brighter the closer she came. With her eyes locked on her goal, she pressed on harder. Soon, a new voice could be heard shouting her name, but unlike the others who sounded sleepy and serene, this voice sounded desperate and panicked. It called to her from the light above, giving her the drive she needed to cross the last span of distance into the blinding light.

  But the light didn't bring comfort or relief; it brought agony. Sharp, hot stabs of pain lanced at her soul, nearly knocking her back into the cold abyss she had just escaped, but above it all, she could still hear the voice anxiously calling her back. His name suddenly sprung to the forefront of her mind and with it the strength to push past the pain.

  Emmerich.

  With a gasp, Eva sucked in a breath but then immediately began choking. Something warm and moist clogged her airway, making it nearly impossible to breathe. As she struggled to expel the thick liquid, someone quickly rolled her onto her side, allowing the metallic substance a way of escape and saving her from suffocation. Broken ribs sent lightning bolts of pain shooting throughout her chest, but still she continued coughing and gasping until most of the obstruction had been forced out.

  After she had somewhat recovered, a string of expletives finally drew her attention. Emmerich was standing beside her with blood smeared across his tunic and hands. Bloody tools and instruments lay strewn across a table nearby, and Eva realized somewhat detachedly that she was still lying in the torture room. They hadn't even bothered to return her to the cell. Shifting her gaze back to the man before her, Eva noticed his face was pale and covered in a sheen of nervous sweat, but color was quickly returning to his skin in tandem with the colorful language that continued to flow from his lips. Most of the rude references he made were directed towards the ones responsible for Eva's current condition, but some of the swearing was aimed at her.

  “You shouldn't talk in such a way,” she weakly reproached him between rattling breaths. “It isn't... proper.”

  “Damn to the Afterlife what is proper. You nearly scared the life out of me!” he shouted angrily. “Eva, they left you for dead. You were just lying there staring up at nothing without making even the smallest movement. Don't tell me how I should or shouldn't speak right now! I'm not in the mind to hear it!”

  “Emmerich.” She spoke calmly but the shivering and trembling of her body caused her voice to quake.

  “Yes?” he asked as he bent closer with renewed worry, her frail condition instantly deflating his anger.

  Still curled onto her side, Eva ran her tongue along the outside of her lips and tasted more blood. Then, closing her eyes against the torturous anguish that encased her, she whispered, “I need Adiel... quickly.”

  A new string of curses flew at his own stupidity before he caught himself and ceased. “I'll bring her at once.”

  Clinging to consciousness only by a thread, Eva listened as his rapid footfalls rushed him from the room and prayed urgently for his swift return. Only the Creator knew what would happen if she let her awareness slip away again before he could bring aid. Blessedly, she did not have to wait long until his steps could be heard drawing nearer. Within moments, he was by her side once more with Adiel's cage in hand.

  “My stars, child!” she heard the small faerie say in stunned horror. “What have they done to you? Emmerich, bring me closer. Quickly!”

  Before Eva could take the next shallow breath, she felt a light pressure on her forehead from a tiny hand, and then, she felt nothing. A cooling numbness replaced the misery, instantly soothing every raw nerve ending throughout her body and lifting away even the smallest measure of pain. With a weary sigh, tears of relief drifted down Eva's dirty cheek and splashed silently on the stone slab beneath her.

  I did it, she marveled wordlessly. I was strong enough after all.

  Once the refreshing numbness had run its course, a slow-building warmth soon took its place. A new energy and vitality began to build in her veins until it had radiated into the furthest reaches of her being. Opening her eyes, Eva found herself enveloped in a soft, azure glow that matched that of the noble faerie in front of her. Perspiration beaded on Adiel's brow from the strain of her task, and ere long, the radiance that she possessed began to fade and weaken. However, just as it seemed the exertion would prove too much for the young faerie, she abruptly withdrew her hand, taking the warmth with her as she allowed her arm to fall limply to her side.

  “Thank you,” Eva breathed in a whisper.

  Slowly shaking her head, Adiel sank to the bottom of her cage to rest. “There is no need to thank me, child. I would gladly do it over again to see the torment removed from your eyes. No one should have to endure what you have.”

  Studying her closely, Emmerich asked, “How do you feel?”

  In answer, Eva pushed herself up to a seated position. “Like I'm ready to get out of here.”

  A devilish smile sprung to his lips as he straightened and clapped her lightly on the shoulder. “Good, because it’s time.”

  “Truly?” Afraid to let her hopes build only to have them dashed to pieces, Eva had to be sure he was sincere.

  “Truly,” he confirmed with a hint of compassion at her hesitancy. “That is why I came to get you—to let you know that the time had finally come, but then I found you here, like this.” A haunted look came over his features as he allowed himself to dwell on the memory of how he had discovered her, a bloody mess with no indication of life remaining. Then, abruptly shaking himself from the reverie, Emmerich placed Adiel and her cage on the stone slab before reaching a hand behind his back to pull out a cloth bundle. With a theatrical flourish and exaggerated bow, he offered it to Eva. “For you, my dear.”

  An amused smile tugged at the corner of her lips despite their present surroundings. “A gift? How thoughtful of you.”

  “Yes, well, I suppose I can be sometimes,” he replied in mock humility.

  With a small chuckle and a shake of her head, Eva graciously accepted the proffered package. It was heavier than she expected; so with building curiosity, she quickly unwrapped the bundle to reveal a beautiful, silvery-white dagger. Her dagger. Moisture clouded her vision as she reverently brushed her fingers across the stunning sapphires then firmly clutched it to her chest in a white-knuckled grip. Having a weapon back in her hands did more to comfort her in that moment than anything else could.

  “This is part of your gift too,” Emmerich added, holding up the cloth that had concealed the dagger.

  With one hand, Eva took the dark green fabric from his grasp and shook it out to unfold it, revealing a simple yet sturdy tunic. Glancing down at her current attire, she realized that her own tunic was fairly well ruined with large tears and cuts riddling the fabric, not to mention the blood and dirt stains that had set in. One whole sleeve was even missing. The trousers she wore weren’t much better off, but at least they were still mostly intact and usable. The true depths of his thoughtfulness struck her then, and she was on the brink of expressing her gratitude once more when an explosion echoed through the halls, jarring trickles of dirt loose from the ceiling and causing them all to jump with a start.

  “What was that?” Eva exclaimed with eyes wide in sudden apprehension.

  “The others must have already started the revolt! We must hurry. Get changed while I go swipe the keys for your shackles. I'll return shortly.”

  “Be careful!” she called after him as another tremor shook the underground structure, but he was already out the door and sprinting down the hall, leaving her words of caution unheeded.

                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Clouds were rolling in from the east, dark and menacing. A storm was brewing, and with it would come rainfall. The air was already heavy with its scent, filling the countryside with a sense of anticipation, but Caden did not welcome the moisture it promised. Tearing his fierce gaze away from the churning skies, he returned his attention to the grey wolf ahead of him. With ears rotated forward and nose lowered to the ground, the canine inhaled the scents afforded to him with short, quick breaths, dutifully searching for a trail that the eye could not see. This was Caden's last chance, his only remaining hope of finding her. Everything else had failed and all others had given up faith, but still, he refused to quit.

  This has to work, he told himself determinately. Then, casting another wary glance to the skies, he quickened his stride to catch up with his canine companion. “Hurry, Fane,” he urged under his breath, “we don't have much time left before the storm hits.”

  Without warning, Fane froze mid-step. For an instant, his muscles tensed and his tail raised slightly before he took off again at a rapid pace, nose pressed firmly to the ground.

  Caden's heart stuttered and then jump-started again. He's found something! Jogging to keep up, he ducked under a low limb and followed in Fane's steps. Rekindled hope empowered his weary body, erasing even the memory of fatigue as they traversed the rocky landscape of the mountain foothills, and the adrenaline that dumped into his bloodstream instantly gave him the renewed vigor he needed to ascend the ever-rising terrain. With one hand gripping the hilt of the sword at his side, Caden eagerly anticipated the wrath he would finally be able to unleash on his enemies. Vengeance was nigh at last.

  A flash of lightning lit up the heavens above, followed soon after by the echoing roar of thunder. Not yet, Caden implored after peering up at the skies once more. Just hold off a little while longer.

  Suddenly, a whine jerked his attention back to the path in front on him. A pile of fallen rocks stood blocking the narrow cliff trail they had been traveling, and now, Fane stood pawing at the space behind the largest boulder, alternately whining and growling in frustration. Cautiously, Caden knelt in the dirt beside his companion and peered into the small gap. Not much could be seen in the dark opening, but on a hunch, he grabbed a handful of dust and dirt from the ground beneath him and held his fist up in front of the space, allowing just a small trickle of earth to slip through his fingers. A stiff breeze caught the fine particles, but instead of carrying them away, it whisked them into the narrow opening and out of sight, proving his theory true.

  With a sly smile, Caden brushed the remaining dirt from his hands and stood. After pulling Fane back a few paces from the rubble, he next raised his palms toward the stones and called upon his magic. The heavy pieces of earth immediately responded to his power and lifted into the air where they hovered unwaveringly until he then cast them off to the right, allowing them to crash back into the mountainside below. Their lumbering forms tumbled down the steep slope with a sound akin to the rolling thunder until they at last came to a stop at the bottom.

  Turning his attention back to the path before him, Caden noted that a cave entrance could now plainly be seen within the rugged cliff face. A metallic hiss rang out as Caden pulled his sword free of its sheath and held it aloft before crouching low and creeping towards the opening. Peering into the dim entrance warily, Caden summoned a small spark of flame in his palm to light the immediate area.

  Seeing that no one was about and hearing no one approaching, he at last turned back to his companion and gave him the command. “Go, Fane. Find her. Quickly!”

  Like an arrow from a new bow, the muscular wolf sprung forward in a blur of movement. With his snout lowered to the ground, he took up the chase once more, tirelessly searching out the scents that would lead him to Eva, and after cautiously scanning the area one last time, Caden also stepped into the cave and joined the hunt.

  Just as soon as their figures disappeared inside, the skies opened up and released their torrent.