Gwen liked Rose a lot more than she thought. Like her name, she was a beautiful young lady with defined cheekbones and swoon-worthy features. With her elegant gait and flawless face tipped with grace, you would think that she was nobility– until you get to know her, that is.
A rebel in the skin of royalty.
She was the youngest daughter of a well-known Lord in Levaeron and ran away from her wedding just to become a rider. One would say that she was crazy– which was agreeable to some point– however, Gwen admired her valour and recklessness in achieving her dreams.
And then there were some other things.
Gwen rolled her eyes at the girl across from her who had been throwing temper tantrums since the night struck.
After Rose wore the clothes, they mended Gwen's hands and started a fire to keep them warm. It was a little unsafe, considering there were wild animals around– and wild humans. However, they risked it for the warmth, and for the fact that they believed the two of them could handle an intruder together.
"Those rock-headed peasants. Never saw a woman in their life before," she huffed while glaring at the two men, still tied to the tree, "That tunic was Vikuña wool, you assholes. That shit is expensive!"
Gwen laughed under her breath.
"It isn't funny," Rose whined, "it cost me more than both their lives combined. I wanted to take it to the Academy with me."
"I bet you did."
Gwen penetrated her dagger in the meat as she listened to Rose cursing the men colourfully. They found a dead vulture in Barlow's satchel and decided to cook it after ignoring his muffled shouts. When she was positive that their meal was cooked, she put it on a bark and sliced it with her dagger.
Rose took a bite and blanched, "What is this abomination?" She cringed while chewing the tough meat.
Gwen just shrugged and started digging in, "It tastes like chicken."
"The hell it does," the redhead struggled to swallow the contents, "It tastes like dead meat!"
"It is dead meat—" Suddenly, Gwen heard a noise. She stiffened and shushed her friend to listen closely.
For a while, the only sound was the fire burning and the occasional grunts of their captives.
Then there it was again.
The sound of someone wailing. A child?
It stopped again so Gwen stood from the ground. Rose followed, knitting her eyebrows at her friend, confused.
"Did you hear that?" Gwen whispered
"What?"
"That sound," she looked around, trying to figure out the origin of the noise.
"I didn't hear any sound. It must be these guys," she pointed towards the two men who were now half asleep.
"No," Gwen shook her head, "It sounded like a child. Like a haunted—" she cut herself off when she caught the spooked look on Rose's face. The same look she got from her friends in her childhood. The same look Edric gave her when they encountered Yaga the Banshee.
"You must be hallucinating, Gwen. What would a child do here in Percival?"
Gwen looked around again. They were on a ledge with one end attached to the mountain and the other ending as a cliff. Rose made a point; a child couldn't be on this deadly mountain all alone.
Gwen's experience with the shadows said otherwise.
However, she decided to think better of it— for her safety and Rose's sanity— and let it go.
"I think you're right. What would a child do on a mountain? I think the lack of sleep is getting to me," she joked and turned to Rose, whose expression was much more relaxed than before.
"Let's just eat," Rose suggested as she moved towards the fire.
After shoving the food down their throats, they lay down in front of the fire.
A silence followed them, accompanied by the crackling of the burning ashes. The mountain itself was quiet, the type of silence before a disaster. Gwen didn't realise it earlier, but the night was quieter than the day. Not in its usual tranquil, but it was absolutely soundless.
Still.
No sign of life except the fire blazing in front of them. A faint thread of uncertainty tangled up in Gwen's throat.
"So, you're a courage wielder?" Rose suddenly broke the silence, but that didn't help Gwen's uneasiness. The question added to her discomfort. The fake orange stone shined in the reflection of the burning fire in front of them as Gwen nodded in response. "How does it work? Like, you just think of summoning courage, and it just happens?"
Gwen raised her eyebrow, trying to summon her inner pixies of acting as she replied, "Isn't that how all the stones work?"
"I mean, they do. But I just thought that it might be a little natural for the courage stone, considering its effortless nature– I don't mean to offend you. Really. I just thought that– okay, I'll shut my teeth." Her face turned almost as red as her hair. Gwen was more amused at Rose's curiosity than wary– or worse offended– since she didn't have a stone, but Rose didn't need to know that. They just met, and even though they got along well, it didn't mean that Gwen trusted her fully.
"I don't see why I should be offended," Gwen's lips pulled up in a smile as the redhead visibly relaxed, "Besides, you didn't tell me about your stone, Lightning wielder." She nudged Rose's arm playfully, gesturing towards the slate blue stone on the back of her right hand.
Rose must be so proud to possess one of the most powerful and useful stones. There were only a handful of lightning wielders to exist as far as Edward educated Gwen. Rose must be able to hold her ground anywhere she wanted. Gwen couldn't help the feeling of inferiority that clutched her guts almost too painfully.
However, to her surprise, the redhead didn't smile this time. Instead, her eyes hardened as she looked into the sky, adding to Gwen's curiosity.
After a minute, when Gwen was almost sure that Rose wouldn't answer, she finally replied, "They may not always be a blessing, you know." Gwen knitted her eyebrows, confused, "The stones. They may also be a curse the Fae put on us humans when they left the lands of Vadonar."
Gwen knew that story. Almost three hundred years ago, Fae used to live in the five Kingdoms of Vadonar: Lorath, Avalon, Calypso, Wanock, and Kruvarys. She read from the old history books and some folklore that before the humans, Fae and the Legends: pegacorns, griffins, pheonicles, gargoyles, and fire-breathers used to live side by side in peace.
However, after a conflict between the Legends and the Faeries, the immortal Fae begun tormenting and slaying the enchanted creatures before the Great Eight came with the moon stones and defeated the Fae in the Great War.
The Fae disappeared from the lands and the moonstones were divided and imbued to the blood of human race to be manifested only when they are ready. The humans and the Legends had been allies ever since. But Gwen never thought of them as a curse at all. She was deprived of the normal. She would know.
"What do you mean?" Gwen genuinely couldn't comprehend Rose's concern.
"Nothing. I just wonder what it would like to be without a stone," to Gwen's dismay, the redhead seemed unbothered, peaceful even. Only if the girl knew what it really was like to be without a stone. How it felt to live like a sheep in a pack of wolves. To be locked away, hidden from the outside world just because you were different. To be defenseless.
Powerless.
Gwen couldn't help but feel disappointed at the fact that a person with such a mighty stone would say something so inferior. She felt a slight pang of envy trying to tug at her heart.
However, as the light of the fire ignited the night, she decided to finally let it go. To let the uneasiness drift to the night and try to hope for a better tomorrow. A future when she would bond with a fire-breather and be one of the soldiers defending the Kingdom. Her only hope for the manifestation of her abilities was the fire breather she would bond with. Her only hope to be useful. To be normal.
Suddenly, she remembered the scarred guy she met before entering the wards. How amused he was to see her welcoming her death. How he looked so sure that a girl like Gwen wouldn't make it out alive. He didn't say it, but Gwen saw it in his eyes. That devilish glint of his dark eyes could not be mistakable.
"Do you think we will live?" Gwen was unable to hide her despair.
It took her a minute to answer but the redhead was quite confident when she declared, "We always do."
That wasn't the consolation she was hoping for, it was somehow better. Rose didn't raise hope in Gwen by lying that they would live and survive. It was a different kind of hope. Hope to push herself again.
To live and survive like she did every day.
To win over and over again, testing the strength of that lone thread inside of her.
For the first time in two weeks, Gwen had hope. Hope for survival.
And not just for the trials.
That night, two lost souls lay on a lone ledge of the cursed Mount Percival and silently prayed for a better day ahead. A better future. A better life.
It was sooner when they dozed off to the warmth of the flames.