The Brave One

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

William sat in bed, waiting for sweet Grandmother Melva to finish helping the bandaged-arm man out of the healer’s hovel. He would wait until nightfall, and scout the camp over to find Evera, and leave this cruelty-filled place.

“Alright now. Ya finished your supper, eh? Well ya look s’much better now, don’t ya?” She smiled and picked up his tray of devoured food. “Ya best be gettin’ your shut-eye. Tomorrow is your initiation day, if so ya choose that is. G’night little William.” With the teasing only the elderly could carry out, Mevla left with a small dance, letting the dishes rattle around on the tray.

William smirked. If he were not trapped here, he would have loved to stay with her. She seemed genuinely happy in all the ruffians, caring for them and preparing their meals, but he would not and should not let himself be taken for the fool. She would cast him off as the countless others have.

The refreshed young man swung his legs over the side of the bed and surveyed the room. His belongings were not found in the healer’s room which was more or less helpful, for his personal effects would make him easier to spot in the shadows. He would find them if he could but they were not necessary to leave with. The one thing he would not leave without was his companion.

Peaking through the curtain, William saw the entire camp settled down for supper. He cautiously danced from one shadow to the next; leaping towards the hut his things were most likely hiding. By mistake, the sneaking young man stepped on a few dropped kindling, making a crunching sound ring in the night. He hid behind a barrel of stolen grain, waiting to see if anyone had noticed. No alarm was heard.

William stole into the hut, correct with his possessions’ whereabouts. Evera’s bow and quiver set next to them. Checking the dining men before he gathered his things, he examined the fireside.

Unlike the night of his capture, the wives and females were gathered around the fires with the brutes, sharing stories and talking to one particularly young couple. The man had his arm around the waist of the woman who seemed out of place with such elegant curling hair cascading down her back. In the next moment, William realized who the couple was.

Evera laughed along with her new friends as she drank her steaming broth. Robin held her close, keeping her warm in the chilling summer night wind while the fire breathed smoke comfortingly into her face. Henry, the outlaw camp’s only child, was dismissed to bed with his mother and soon Robin’s father, James, stood and addressed the camp.

“Brothers. We have a new member to our group tonight. She was forced into our midst, this is true, but she has seen our way of life as a fulfilling one!” James’ voice was much clearer, now that it was not fouled by spirits. Evera barely smiled, embarrassed by the attention she received. She was not one to stand proud especially in the circumstances she now faced. She had found her belongings and found were William was residing during her tour earlier in the day. She planned to flee after releasing William, begging him to take shelter in the town.

James rambled on, Evera no longer giving much of her attention. The young Fae instead stared at the weapons beyond the camp circle. The blades and hilts flickered in the firelight, shining bright in Evera’s eyes. She tried as best she could to keep steady and remain sitting next to Robin but try as she might, her feet gradually started to move on their own, her eyes still fixed on the gleaming weapons.

Robin, sensing her restlessness, pulled her interest back to him.

“I have something for you,” he whispered in his betrothed’s ear. She turned her curious expression away from the blades and stared into his deep brown eyes. He withdrew a piece of jewelry from his pocket without breaking his gaze. “I believe this…” he held the Raven Necklace in his hand, letting it dangle between them. “This is your necklace, is it not?”

Evera nodded, still transfixed on the shining swords. She felt the air for Robin's hands and tried to pry the necklace from his hands without turning to look. He laughed gently at his future bride.

“I will take that as a certainty.” He unclasped the necklace and fastened the fine silver chain around her neck. Forgetting what the necklace was, Evera fixed her hair before she realized her costly mistake. Before she could unfasten the clasp, the pulsing had started.

The sensation of the necklace was trivial at first, but grew into a throbbing pain. Evera struggled against the pounding of her bones, disregarding the world around her. The night became silent as the bandits and wives began to watch the writhing woman.

Her upper body shuddered as she fell to the ground, pressing her face into the dirt. Her shoulders seem to separate under her skin as two budding extremities protruded from her back, crushed under her laced shift. Evera clawed the ground in agony, dust rising and flowing into her lungs with her gasping breaths.

The husbands took their screaming wives away from the disturbing scene while other men watched, horror and disbelief etched on their faces. Some grabbed for a sword to keep themselves from having their knees buckle beneath them and fear overtaking their minds.

Evera tried to glance up at Robin through her tear streaked eyes, instantly regretting to do so. The pure terror and disgust on his face hurt her more than the growing wings on her back. He fell over and crawled away on his back, fleeing as fast as his arms could scramble.

The fabric which covered her back from the night’s chill now crushed her full grown wings. Evera could hear the stitches of her dress rip, little by little, giving way to her new appendages. As she unlaced her vest, one hand holding her steady, she heard a voice above the muffling of her shock. William had sprouted out from the shadows and grabbed under her arm, getting her to her feet. He too wore an expression of astonishment.

William urged her on, away from the camp, her Livi Hunting Bow and quiver strung upon his back. Evera continued to struggle with the brown vest as he half carried her out of the camp. Evera’s knees gave way from the pain of her bound wings. The young Fae was able to remove the vest but her arms’ strength was spent on the escape. Sensing her trouble, William took his hunting knife and cut the back of her dress’s fabric. With each rip, the wings were able to spread farther and farther out until one expanded out at full length.

The young man was caught off guard by the strange beauty the wings held. The wings were not like any he has ever heard of or seen in the angelic paintings. These were glistening wings, opaque yet translucent, thin yet volatile, smooth yet threatening. They did not seem to be held in any line of arch but more like cascading jewels, rising and falling gracefully down until they vanished from sight.

“William, the other! Please, it hurts.” The man shook his head and found his focus once more. Soon the limb was free and spread out just as the other, radiant and unreal.

Evera tried to stand, not used to her new muscles. She could feel their movement and the breezes of air that passed by and through them. Cold crept its way up her back on her revealed skin. The necklace had transformed her into the true form of Fae, the ones humans feared back since the beginning of time. This was the form Angels were turned to after the Gates of Saint Peter were shut from them; an Angel’s beauty with a Demon’s impiety. No longer an Angel but not quite Demon, Evera now held power over all Fae.