"Love and War, the timeless truth where all is at stake-
Why the daughters of the land never sleep, and the sons never wake."

-My Sweet Riverene, Act III

©

Miriam downed another bottle, she had gone to Graygreen a few nights ago yet something about its pine-fresh winds always pluck her nerves. it's a tedious cycle unfairly set upon her, like toiling the driest hectares of land, unrooting grass under the hottest blaze of the sun- only to find out that they'll grow rampant the next moon, and repeating the labour the following dawn. Such is the life of a Medium forsaken by her country.

"Miriam Blackmercy, Nightshade Heroine, Medium of the North, God-killer..." Sion never knew of his mother's titles and Miriam treasured his ignorance. She treated the boy as her own blood, hiding him from public eyes so her reputation won't damage the lad's quality of life. And she had ensured her very best that Sion would mature with a virtuous heart unlike her's.

She knows she entered the wrong carriage when what was supposed to be the Silver Lady's high seat now cuts the circulation from her little legs. Regardless, no soul from Dirge can tell her what to do. It would take a crown owner or a literal god to make her reconsider her actions once, which is what happened two decades ago.

Someone else was in the carriage before her, a large cloaked man seated across the table in high defences, fortified like a city as if Miriam is a beast that would attack him anytime soon. The man doesn't dare kill the silence, maybe he knows of her identity.

"Ease yourself, I didn't kill the Silver Lady to take her spot to Graygreen." Miriam joked. She studied the cloaked figure- quite tall, with broad shoulders and rough-looking hands, his fingers crossed with markings of ropes. Then it struck her.

"Just take the cloak off Ian, I won't tell anyone I've seen you." She grabbed a bread knife to serve herself jam and bread. She could hear the sailor's shoulders drop as he let out a shaky breath. "This ice-brained kid always acting a fool..." she muttered.

"You know that they will rip you to shreds once you step foot in Graygreen, right?" The Sailor was distressed.

"Ha? as if they could touch me under Ocemnian protection? But seeing how you still attacked the diplomat earlier, I doubt that no casualties would ensue."

"Aye..." he kept to himself.

"Apologize to my son, not to me. I'm guessing that's not the only reason why you're tailing him though. You still reek of jealousy, boy."

The Sailor took shelter by the window with eyes as dry as the cold winds entering.

"You already had my blessings to espouse him... I wouldn't even mind if you run away with him to wherever the sea will take you. I'd rather have him safe under you than be caught up with my past..."

"But I guess I'll die first before you get to kiss his hand." Miriam sat beside the sailor, putting the bread she had prepared on the plate in front of him. "You'll need that." she instructed.

"Will you really send him out of Dirge after this?" Ian's voice flattened in despondence.

"You know the deal Ian... we both know this would come about sooner or later."

The ebony gates of the Castle peeked through the hills, screeching by its rusted hinges to saw nostalgia on every vein of the Master Alchemist. She took a deep breath as the horns proclaimed their attendance at the castle, their carriage slowly circling the frozen fountain of the plaza.

"Lady Drina Bluesaile of Dirge." the herald at the gate announced the arrival of guests.

"Laguna Gazhafina, Prince of Ocmenia."

The rabble of nobles died down to whispers as soon as the monstrous man came into their view, his ram horns catching gentle snowfall while still barely wearing any clothes to battle the Sovenian winds, this is his way of asserting dominance- my race is better.

He strides with his head held high at balconies and gold-lit windows that gaze bleak at him like unblinking colossi. His head sticks out from the sea of crowd parting from each further step he takes, from behind him follows a trail of gifts and offerings from Ocmenia, he wouldn't dare arrive empty handed.

"Huh? what?" the Herald blinked twice, wiping cold sweat off his forehead before clearing his throat.

"Miriam... Blackmercy!" he announced hesitantly, he had just become a conductor of gasps and confused murmurs.

"By the gods!" the public rumbled like mad hornets wrecking the plaza. Their blood ran cold and their fists whitening when the mentioned woman stepped out of her carriage. The crisp winds rippled through the little woman, swaying her black curls away from her stern face.

Miriam is fraught with danger with her soles inaudible like they were ambling on thin ice.

"Why is she here!?" a man yelled in disbelief, his unruly zeal shortly followed by the crowds. All music turned into a chorus of rage begging her to be gone, the party of soft-spoken nobles bent into a horde of indignant protesters in a blink of an eye.

"Get lost savant!" they lined at the balcony, rushing in silver plates from the party to toss food to the Master Alchemist. But the tiny woman just stood there strong as a tree. Her mind was clear and resolute. She is not standing here as a criminal, but as a mother.

She resumed on ignoring the murderous crowd, instead, she stared at the trees and flowering vines that she had planted by the far columns 24 cycles ago. Now they reached high and crawled all over the walls of the castle.

"Ah, they took great care of them..." Miriam whispered to herself, food of inedible mix thrown at her feet while some were aimed at her hair and stained her clothes deeply.

"Shame!" The crowd continued, the chaos spiralling around that the majority of the guests is now outside to watch the commotion. "Silence! Silence! Respect our guests!" The Silver Lady shouted through the unrest but her authority faded into the ballistic crowd.

Sion watched from inside the carriage, heart bludgeoned from the raw hatred he is beholding. All the wasted food and all the thrown abuses. The sight of his remorseful mother twisted the daggers in his chest.

It has been a full minute now and Miriam just stood there, eyes closed like how her father taught her when she was a kid, and like how she taught Sion when he was a tot. "Once you open them, they might be gone..." she could recall her Father's voice the exact moment before they were segregated in the slave's market. Yet somehow, little by little, the mayhem of her surroundings fell like the lessening rustle of autumn leaves before the trees accepts the bald, silent winter.

The noises faded and faded again and again into the black. Now, all she can hear was empty gusts of wind, the world came to be too silent as if she was sunken into the deep hollow.

When she opened her eyes, she sees why they ceased the abuse. Her son is standing between her and the crowd, his masked hood of net now dirtied on the floor. Though it is night time, his hair and lips are dipped in the colours of a bleeding sunset with forest freshness bouncing from his eyes. Skin and body glistening as if luscious honey glazed over sculpted marble. The countenance, the physique, the posture and the colours that tint him, all in harmonic music to reintroduce beauty to an ancient world.

And his flawless body faced the whole world as her shield.

"Shame on you, all of you!" he shouted across the silenced plaza, his voice echoing to the stars to be resounded back in every ear. All souls present were stupified by the appearance of this glorious creature, as if they're looking at Adastrielle himself. Their minds fogged and their throat dry with three sheets of wind as they can't decide whether to stare at him, or look away as he glows like the sun.

"Throw another bread and I'll throw them back as stones!" the boy dared the crowd. "What bleak demon sucked out compassion from this land? how would you feel if your own mother is placed in her shoes? You lots are disgusting!"

"Son, you don't have to do this..." Miriam begged.

"Mum, how many have to die so you could feel loved? I say none. So let's just get this over with and meet Alzina Fida, whoever the fuck that is." Sion smiled at his mother, causing hearts from the crowd to swell.

"Let"s go." Sion took the lead for the Ocmenians, ascending the staircase of the castle while holding his mum behind him, he doesn't know where it leads but all he knows is they need to vacate the plaza. The guests gave way to the group in silence, yet their stare speaks of many words.

"Oh, endure this please..." Hildred whispered to her food drenched friend.