61 – Ravena Guron – “I accept My Fate”

Silence fell between the two. Jenelle held the dagger loosely in her hand, wishing she could let it fall. But the dagger clung to her grasp, almost as if it sensed it would not find its final sheath in Morath if she had her way. Dust swirled up around Jenelle and she breathed it in. Fighting the urge to cough, Jenelle focused instead on the rose-like smell which wafted up her nose. Surely dust should not smell so sweet?

Morath watched as Jenelle’s face, full of anguish, went blank, like a chalkboard which had been erased. When the girl opened her mouth to speak, a harsh, grainy voice rang out, not at all like Jenelle’s usually quiet tones.

“The breeze from the East comes to you in your time of need, to help you do what must be done to finish this war. Do you accept this fate?”

Morath’s throat clenched. In the back of her mind, the old stories about the breeze from the East stirred, stories which explained why the breeze came only to the aid of the Fae. Blood calls to blood, Fae call to Fae.

“I accept my fate.” Morath threw her shoulders back. She would not be perished, would instead serve her people in a final, ultimate way, a fate she had always wanted. The fact that the breeze, and not Jenelle, controlled the hand holding the dagger did nothing to make the final blow feel less like a kiss delivered from a much loved friend.

Morath smiled as she felt her body dissolving into gentle wind, as the old breeze from the East died down to make way for the new one. This breeze floated through the air, towards the Establishment fleet, for a second swirling up dust to create the shape of something which resembled Morath’s small frame.