MAEVE
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't think.
I couldn't move.
It's way past midnight, and the apartment is still packed. Siobhan, Nimah, and Ronan are focused on what I assume is a heated debate. But I'm not even listening. I'm just sitting in the living room in this oversized armchair, covered in a blanket, not able to move or speak.
Simply staring into space in front of me, the rest of the room blurring into static.
Adriadne is here too. She keeps her distance from everyone, standing in the far corner of the room. She's not participating in their conversation, not even pretending to care about their words. Her eyes are focused solely on me. Like she's trying to see something buried deep inside me. Assess if I'm holding up somehow.
But I'm not.
I need some time. Some space. Some distance to be able to comprehend what happened in the past six hours.
It's all too much.
I want to run away from everything. Hide. Just for a little while. Be able to take a breath of fresh air. Alone. In silence.
But that's not an option. Not that my protectors would even let me leave the apartment alone after what happened, but also physically - it's not possible.
As much as I don't want to admit it – two visions in one day are draining. I wouldn't be able to walk as far as to the elevator, let alone try to escape from all of this.
And then it hits me.
Terrace.
With all the determination I can squeeze in, I force myself to stand up and start slowly walking towards the massive glass doors. My legs feel like jelly, but I am in a trance.
By my third step, the room goes quiet. Deathly quiet. They are probably stunned at the first sign of life from me in the past hours. But I don't care. I keep going.
"Maeve…" Siobhan's voice reaches me like through a fog. Warm and careful, like she is afraid one wrong word will shatter me completely. I turn around and look at all their faces – all filled with different variations of fear, anger, and protectiveness. They look like they want to approach me, silently asking my permission.
But I don't let them.
I simply raise my hand and signal them to back off.
As I reach the terrace and close the door behind me, I am finally able to take a deep breath.
I approach the balustrade, leaning into its cool metal surface, and let my eyes wander over the city. The streets below are quiet. Darkness breaches in softly by the lantern lights. Few people are walking around – probably searching for a place that will be still open at this hour. Few are waiting for a bus or calling for a taxi to get them somewhere else. Cars crawl lazily through intersections, the world moves at its own unbothered pace.
It is so normal. So simple. It is so close, and yet seems so far away.
Like scenes from another life.
Not so long ago I was one of these people down there. More than once, I was walking around the city at night – from work, from dates, from meetings with friends and parties. My life wasn't perfect — far from it — but it had laughter, warmth, and the luxury of trust. At times it was stressful, sure. But nothing compared to the nightmare I am drowning in now.
A Banshee…
I say the word in my head, testing it. What does that even mean? Werewolves, witches, dryads, even vampires — those are known entities. Things you can point to in a guidebook. But this? This is the stuff of folklore, ghost stories our parents tell us not to read because they'll leave us too scared to sleep. And now, apparently, I am one.
A shiver runs through my body.
Is this going to be my life now? Am I doomed to spend the rest of it in this misery? Days filled with visions of pain, blood, and fear? Will I be hunted down and eventually killed?
A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it.
With every breath I take, the questions come faster, crowding my already overwhelmed brain. Then there is Ariadne. She feels… familiar. Which makes no sense, since we've barely exchanged more than a handful of words. Yet every cell in my body screams that we are somehow connected. That she matters in a way I don't fully understand.
But can I trust her? Trust isn't something I hand out freely these days. Is she really here to help, or does she have her own agenda?
I am drowning in the sea of questions and thoughts as I watch the city get emptier by the minutes.
I don't know how long I am there. Staring with an empty look in the space in front of me. Time feels slippery, unreal, like I am floating outside of it. The world around me blurs into static. I don't even hear him approach.
But I feel him.
Ronan.
He joins me at the balustrade, quiet and solid, his presence a grounding force. We don't speak, just stand side by side in a silence that feels strangely peaceful. Oddly comforting, even. For once, there is no pressure, no expectation to talk or explain.
Just… stillness.
"I've sent them home," he finally speaks, answering my silent question. His voice is low and tired but warm at its core.
I simply nod and say, "Thank you."
He doesn't push for anything more from me. I feel like he is giving me the space just to be with my thoughts but staying around in case I need him.
So, I just stand there, not even once looking at him, keeping my eyes focused on the life down below – so close yet so far away from me.
"How did my life get so messed up?" I finally break the silence, not really expecting any answer. "And why? Have I crushed a ladybug? Or drove over somebody's cat by accident? Why?
He smirks, the kind of small, knowing smile that says he recognizes my sarcasm for what it is — a shield. A desperate attempt to keep myself together.
"I mean seriously – what did I have to do in my past life to be bitten so much by karma?" I'm venting at this point. I just need to let my thoughts out of my head.
He doesn't say anything. Not at first.
He lets the silence linger before he finally shifts, the subtle movement. I feel his gaze on me – focused and cautious. Like he's assessing how much more I can handle before breaking. Then, in that quiet, deliberate way of his, he breaks the silence.
"I don't have the reasoning for 'why' – yet. But we might have some clues when it comes to the 'how'."
That gets my attention. I turn my head to look back at him. In his eyes I can see hesitation.
"I talked with Nimah earlier today. After your first vision when you were…out. She… she found something" He pauses.
"What?" I'm not backing down. I need to know.
He takes a deep breath, like he is bracing himself for my reaction. "The ritual – that one that was supposed to be power sharing – well it wasn't. I never shared my power with you. According to what she said it was designed to awaken something… something buried deep inside. It was never meant for Isabelle, it always has been for you. I don't know yet why but —"
"So you're saying this whole banshee-thing was always inside of me? Just sitting inside me, waiting to be set off? This whole mess wasn't some freakish accident - somebody planned this outcome all along?" I interrupt him before he can finish. His body tenses, eyes focused on me, assessing what will happen next. What will I do?
"In the simplest way of putting it – yes."
Here I am wondering what went wrong when in reality – nothing does. All this time when I think somebody plays a cruel game with my life – changes me into something I'm not. That is not true anymore. Not entirely anyway. It gives me a whole new outlook on everything. All the emotions that flood me – they are a lot.
And then I can't hold them anymore.
I burst out laughing.
Not a cute giggle or even a bitter chuckle. No, this is full-on, gut-wrenching hysteria. The kind of laughter that bubbles up when you've hit your breaking point and the absurdity of it all just becomes too much.
I weren't expecting that, he was't either. But I can't stop it. The situation is so crazy I can't contain it. It's like all my walls break down, all that I know is turned into ashes. It's so ridiculous. I laugh so hard my sides hurt, tears spilling down my cheeks, not from joy but from the sheer insanity of it all.
All the emotions that are bottled up leave my body and I can finally feel the tension letting go.
"You know what," I say after I'm finally able to catch my breath, "whoever planned this all along could have at least given me the wedding of my dreams, not someone else's — sort of convict's last wish or something." I can still see concern in his eyes, but a smile softly flickers on his lips.
"And what would that be like?" He asks. No joke, no irony. Just a simple question.
"Well… I would like it in the woods – that part was fine." my voice soft as I picture it. "But I would prefer a cozy, warm vibe instead of this posh political-circus event. Lights hanging from the trees, candles on tables, a lot of greenery. And all my family to be there. All of them."
"How many of you are there? I know only of Siobhan"
"I have six brothers and sisters in total. I'm the seventh — the youngest in a bunch. But I also have a lot of cousins…"
"So, a big family event — sounds nice," he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. "No wonder thou that Nimah had some problems with going through your family tree"
"I suppose not. After all, my mom also had a lot of siblings, and so did my grandma. Family meetings were always chaotic but filled with love and laughter — I miss that."
I smile faintly, but the warmth of the memory quickly turns bittersweet. Nothing is the same after my parents pass. Me and my siblings are close, but all of them move to different sides of the world – all except Siobhan.
We are still in touch – texting constantly, calling, video chatting – but it is not the same. I miss them a lot. Life is easier back then. But they have their own adventures to follow.
And so do I.
My newly found determination triggers something because, before I realize it, I lift my hands and wrap them around Ronan. He doesn't even try to stop me. And before I know it - I am closed in the warm embrace of his arms.
Ronan – my constant in this mess that my life has become. My partner. My support.
My protector.
"So… you stood up to Jean." I murmur into his chest.
"Yeah… " he answers, his warm breath stroking my hair "I know she won't let it go easily. But that's a problem for another day."
We stand there in this warm cocoon not ready to let go yet. Right here, right now, we are entwined in his arms for the first time in what feels like forever, and I feel safe.
"Thank you," I whisper into his chest.
"Always," he replies, pulling me even closer than before, tightening his arms around me.
There are no more words needed. We are just standing here for a while, embracing each other. Just warmth, comfort, and peace surround us.
I finally have clarity on what I have to do. What I need to do.
If there is any truth to my vision about Ariadne - I have to be prepared. I am not going to be the victim of weird circumstances anymore. Not a pawn in somebody else's plan. For the first time, I feel like maybe — just maybe — I am not completely powerless anymore.
When we finally are ready, we release each other and go back inside – holding hands – as the first rays of sun illuminate our way.