Chapter 60 The Very Terrible Exhausting Revelation
Maeve felt herself sink into the earth, the space around her tightening and squeezing around her. She could feel the sand entering every hole in her body, filling her up as she struggled to breathe. She wanted to scream, wanted to ask for help… but she kept sinking… and sinking.
Then she was suddenly back to the surface.
She coughed, her chest caving as pain racked through her body. Rain fell from the sky to her body, filling every inch of her with a burning sensation. Tears filled her eyes as she looked around, her voice raw, “NACE. NACE. Take me… take me away from this. I don’t want to do this anymore,”
No response.
Maeve looked around, the fear crippling back. She was back in Satyr… but there was no one here. Not a single sound apart from the rain.
She slowly rose from the floor, pants leaving her lips as she tried to regulate her thoughts… but then it happened.
Blinding pain shot through her skull, hurting her as she grabbed both sides of her head. It hurt. It hurt so much Maeve was certain that this time, she really was going to die.
Images flashed through her head— of Genevieve and Leander Montague. Of Lucien. There was Adrian too. And Amir. She tried to remember the last words that she had said to them but the pain overrode every single thought.
And then—
“Have you seen my Mommy?”
The pain stopped— and Maeve? She slowly let her hand down as she looked down at the voice. Right next to her was a child no older than four looking back up at her. An elf child. She was drenched from the rain as well… and not alive.
Maeve knew. She didn’t know how or why but she did.
She wanted to ignore her, act like it wasn’t really happening… but she found herself going on her knees, her hands resting on the girl’s cold shoulders. “Remember the last time you saw her?”
She shook her head, then quietly, she added, “I am… I am a bit scared,”
Maeve felt her belly hurt. “Yeah?”
She nodded this time. “Been here… looking for her. I couldn’t find her,”
Maeve had to fight back the tears in her eyes as she forced a smile to her face and said, “What’s your name?”
“Arwen,”
“Arwen,” Maeve repeated, like the word could break her if she said it too loudly. She let another smile show on her face before she stood up, holding her hand out. “Would you like to follow me around to look for her?”
Arwen didn’t trust her— which was smart of the child, but Maeve knew just like the child did that she was too scared to be alone, so she followed her.
And that wasn’t the only person she met.
Maeve walked with her till she was no longer beside her… and found another child. And another. Then a teenager. And an adult that she lost count. Each person looking for one last person that they had left behind. Each person having something to stay.
All of them stuck here… because they had no one to talk to.
Maeve lost track of each person as the time came passed, her fear and panic lessening as she found herself falling back to her old habits… into old Maeve. Motherly Maeve. Too caring Maeve.
But it was fine, because this time, they did not tell her that she was not doing her best. Maeve knew that deep down, they were aware something was wrong… but they were glad that they could talk to her and she would listen until they blurred away and vanished.
Until… she was all that was left.
Her body still ached, thrumming with a distant pain though now… now, in the silence, she was heavily reminded of what was happening. She fell to the floor, her strength leaving her all at once.
The rain kept falling.
She let her back rest on the bark of a tree, the pain feeling like a buzzing sensation underneath her skin. The fear was still there, yes, that she was stuck in this memory, in this… place, but… a part of her was glad that she could have spoken to them.
And helped them. “See, I can do some good,”
“You can,”
Maeve’s eyes slowly peeled open… and right there, crouching in front of her was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
Her skin was as pale as the moonlight, pinkish-blue veins trailing her entire skin. Her hair was a pure white, like silk as it spread all over the place around her. Her eyes were a rosy pink, with full white eyelashes that were currently fluttering at her and her lips… they were a dark red. Her ears also were pointy, like every other elf.
There were prickly gray thorns rising from her forehead like horns while parts of her skin glowed with a light blue luminescence.
And she was naked.
This… being also looked young. As young as fifteen, perhaps even younger.
It made Maeve let out a soft laugh. “I had pictured you in many different ways, but this was not the way I thought you would look,”
Vashka let a small smile flash across her face as she tilted her head. “I can assure you, Maeve of Strum that this is exactly how you wish me to look,”
Her real name being used after so long was… strange to her ears, but Maeve didn’t mind it. If anything, it made her feel softer. Warmer, perhaps. “I didn’t think you were real. This must mean I’m dying seeing you, isn’t it?”
Vashka didn’t respond. Not immediately, then slowly, she shook her head. “There is too much riding on you at the moment for you to die,”
Maeve scoffed. “Yeah? What if I say I’m done with that?”
“They will not let you.”
“They?” Maeve asked, “You mean… the story? I don’t even… I don’t even understand it anymore. At this point. But I think… I think I’ve tried my best. I’ve done all I can. I’ve put myself in danger for everyone else. I think I—”
“Not the story,” Vashka’s voice sounded like the soft tinkling of bells. Her eyes were kind. Motherly. “There is something far bigger than… than all of this.”
There was silence for a while, and then Maeve let out a laugh.
Her hands reached out to cover her face as it tore out from the bottom of her belly, from every sorrow and pain she had felt and buried down, every terrible thing that she had felt but had been unable to speak about to anyone else… then just as soon as she had started, sobs followed immediately after.
She was tired. So very tired.
Why didn’t she deserve rest?
Cold hands reached out for hers, slowly peeling them away. Maeve stared at her face— Vashka’s eyes looked like swirling pools of kindness, and genuine affection as she said softly, “Thank you for helping my children. There is… so little I could have done so… thank you. I bring you a gift. Remember this later. When a god meets you and you do something kind for them, they owe you a gift,”
Maeve stared at her, her vision still blurred and her chest ached from how hard she was crying but she didn’t get to ask what this gift was or say if she wanted it or not.
Vashka leaned in, placed a kiss on her forehead. Maeve found herself instinctively closing her eyes, and when she opened them again, she was sitting on a chair in a garden.
And right in front of her, was a familiar looking boy running to her.
Slowly, Maeve felt herself rise from the chair. Her legs felt weak, her body trembling as the child ran into her body, wrapping his tiny arms around her legs.
She lurched at him, her lips pursing as she tried to hold back the cry flying up her throat as she held him tight to her, his name falling out like a prayer from her lips. “Jeremy,”