The Fire Seer

10 - Home

Two months later.

"Eat, Davina. You need your strength," Laluin cooed. I stared down at the plate in front of me, my stomach doing backflips before I pushed it away. The plane whirred softly as the sky flew by, and I leaned against the seat and watched from the window as clouds rolled along. Two months ago, I had left Ironfang for good, setting my sights on honing the gifts of a Seer and seeing the world for myself. Six years in a cage had me taking flight to new horizons.

Oliver sat across from me reading the paper like an old man, humming a song I now knew as Auld Lang Syne, a Scottish folk song. Gealach Deàrrsadh was a pack as old as the lands, Gaelic in origin and traditional to boot. They ruled all of Scotland in the shadows, making their home in the heart of the foothills of the Cairngorms. Their villages spanned miles. Their power exceeded any pack in all of Europe. It allowed me the funds to travel worldwide, visiting the packs of Nagaland and Kuberganya and Vatnajökull and more. I had been across the world for months, and now, I was keen on settling back into Aviemore, the heart of Gealach Deàrrsadh.

The look on Elijah's face as he begged for the life of his clan sat in my mind always. The fear in his eyes of again losing to outsiders was ripe, and I marinated in the glow of his tears. And yet, I could not sleep nor eat. My visions plagued me, and guilt overrode my instincts. Laluin had desperately been trying to reconcile my depression, but it would not cease. Oliver had the best in psychiatric medicine to evaluate me, and my therapy had started not long after my departure from Redfield. They told me it was Stockholm Syndrome, that my attachments were out of a sense of forced duty. I rejected that. I didn't want to go back to him. I didn't want to ever see Redfield again. The black wolf of my visions could raze Ironfang to the ground, and I would not bat an eye.

Yet, some days, I thought of the good too. I remembered Sam's comfort and Rebecca making Rufus kneel for me. I thought of my parents and Eli and the fields of grass and the spider lilies. I thought, too, of Beatrice, and how maybe the snake I saw in her lived in me too.

We touched down an hour later, and Oliver escorted me from the plane while assistants grabbed our bags. I stepped onto the tarmac and took in a breath. The air was cold here in late-Februrary, bitingly so. The smell of the breeze aroused something ancestral in me as I looked out on the mountains and the prairies beyond. Oliver stood beside me, his hands in his pockets. I looked up at him to see those captivating green eyes taking in the world. "Beautiful, isn't she?" He asked. I smiled, looking back to it, at how the rolling greens met the raging blue sky, and let out a breath. "It really is."

We climbed into a sleek black Mercedes, Oliver closing the door behind me before getting into the driver's side. "You're driving?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He smirked. "This is my home. I know it like the back of my hand. Buckle up." I buckled the seat belt as he revved the engine to life, and as soon as it clicked, he pulled the stick out of park and sped off. I laughed as we tore down the runway at eighty miles per hour, gripping the handle at the top of the door as the wheels screeched with his rough turn, and we emptied out onto a backroad.

The car tore through the countryside, and I rolled down the window to let the wind hit my face, closing my eyes. I honed my senses, taking in smells and sounds I had never heard. Scotland unfolded before me as the national forests of the Cairngorms burst to life before us. Through the rocky heights and woodlands we drove, over rolling hills and flower fields, past waterfalls and cliffs and snow-capped mountains. We passed a field of strange animals that looked like yaks, and I pointed. "What are those?" I asked, and Oliver laughed. "Those are highland cows. We have them everywhere," He explained, and I blushed to my ignorance and took them in as we drove by. What magic.

Twenty minutes later and we arrived in Aviemore, a town that looked rural outwardly until we passed the forefront, a bustling small city opening before us. Stone castles and guilded manors blanketed the land, and we passed crystal shops and bookstores that smelled of novelty. Stone and brick houses rose in the suburbs, and towers of steel haunted the distance. We crested over a bridge of cobblestone that looked a thousand years old, over a gently flowing creek teeming with pike. Pulling up to what could only be regarded as a palace, Oliver screeched the car to a halt, flipping off the ignition. He climbed from the car, buttoning his suit properly as he rounded the car and opened my door, putting out a hand. I took it, standing.

MacLaren Manor, Oliver told me as we walked inside, had stood for a thousand years. The building itself had the ghosts of a time when it had been a castle, merging stone and steel into a brilliant building of skyscraping towers and crenellations. The foyer was modern, fitted with massive windows that let the dim light of afternoon streak in, chandeliers that cast rainbow glints on the floors, and rolling carpets depicting wild hunting scenes and coronations. A staircase ran up the center of the foyer, lined with servants, while the security team lined the walls, communicating through ear pieces to one another that we had arrived safely. Everyone had been awaiting our arrival.

Over the last two months, I had met pack alphas who pledged fealty to the Seer and women adorn my head with flowers and my neck with garlands of lilies and gold. The sight of a grand welcome had become common now, and yet this felt so special. It was as if they all were telling me "Welcome home."

I smiled as bright as the sun as I took Oliver's arm and walked. We ascended the stairs as the servants bowed in submission to their alpha and oracle, and each step felt like one towards the future of the rest of my life. Oliver led me down winding halls of mahogany and golden light before stopping in front of a room. "This will be your new home, Davina. I had them prepare it months ago, but I do hope it is to your liking," Oliver said. I chuckled. "I would enjoy anything besides an attic, Ollie. You know that," I teased, and he smiled bright before opening the door.

Before me sprawled a grand room thrice the size of any I had stayed. The floors were parquet patterned and covered in furs of animals I did not know, and walls decorated with posters of music I learned I had loved over the time with Oliver. A bookshelf full of young adult novels Oliver knew I fancied or wished to read stood to the side next to an ornate desk curling with carved vines from wood and metal. A massive balcony overlooked the whole of the Cairngorms, facing the horizon where the sun readied to set. The bed teemed with silks from ivory colored posts that joined into a canopy. The comforter looked plush and welcoming. I felt the exhaustion in my bones just seeing it. A door to my left that was closed was what I guessed to be the bathroom. A set of double doors to my right could only be... I stepped into the room alone, letting Oliver go, and placed my hands on the knobs to the double doors, casting them open. A spacious walk-in closet and went on and on was brimming with incredible dresses and ripped jean pants and band tees and bodysuits. Boxes of shoes lined the hall leading in, as if to tell me I would never again go barefoot again.

I turned to Oliver, tears in my eyes. "Ollie," I breathed out, rushing towards him as he smiled and throwing my arms around his shoulders. "Thank you!" I said as our bodies crashed together, and he caught me, laughing and spinning me in a circle before I set my feet down again, drawing back. He reached up, wiping the tear from my cheek. "Anything for you, Davina." I blushed and went on my tippy toes, pecking his cheek. He flushed, looking away to hide the embarrassment. "Get some rest, you hear me? I'll call you down for dinner in a bit. I'm sure you're jetlagged." It was true, I was. I nodded, and Oliver bowed to me--a habit he wouldn't break no matter how many times I asked--and excused himself, closing the doors.

I faced my new room, squealing with joy and spinning in circles on my converse, spreading out my arms. I rushed to the balcony, pushing open the doors and filling with joy as the cold breeze flushed against my skin. I gripped the banister, letting out a call of war and song and joy and freedom that carried on for miles. Scotland echoed my voice as if to sing with me, and I knew in my heart that I was home.