***
Echoed voices rang through the open areas of the ruined city at the heart of Tierra Vida. Vines and verdure grew over crumbling stone structures that served to house wildlife as much as it did the displaced tirsai of the Phoenix Empire or the smatterings of duende from the Asphondel forests. Handfuls of the two types of olve roamed within the dilapidated structures, wooden crates, or bulging bundles that remained tightly sealed despite nearly three years of habitation in the ruined city. Small groupings of waxed tents and rolled palettes existed through the enclosed spaces, providing bare-bones shelter from the varied elements of the Tierra Vida jungles.
Maeve Oenel looked at her people, at the state of things and sighed. How the mighty had fallen. Nearly five years of scraping by in the muck and dirt, abandoned by their allies or run out of safe-havens over and over. This was the third place she’d taken her people with promises of safety and change that never came. She felt the weight of their judgments on her, the expectations of security that she could not give. She was not her sister. Moreover, she was not her brother. Gannon was the Empire. He cultivated their allies, put Joline on the throne, walked among the people in ways she could never hope to replicate.
She tried not to let it bother her, refocusing her attention on the table before her. On its surface was a large, hand-drawn map weighed down by rocks or pieces of the ruins that continued to fall off at random. The map detailed what they knew of the nation interior thus far. It did not hold many details: the ruins, the surrounding jungle marked with good hunting spots and spots to avoid, and the nearest actual city. They needed to send out more scouts, explore more regions. Another map beneath the one of the ruins detailed what was left of the Asphondel forests where many of the Empire’s survivors fled to only to be trapped there by the demons that ravaged the tirsai homeland. Frustration welled inside of Maeve until she felt like she might explode.
Maeve looked up from the map at the sound of voices outside the tent in which she stood. The morning’s hunting party had returned.
“Captain,” Lt. Valance Novis said as Maeve exited the tent. The man was the only one to use her City Guard title still. Most merely muttered a begrudging ‘your grace’ when near her.
“Everyone return intact today, Liuetenant?” she replied as she walked. Once, she led the Illurian City Guard. Once, she commanded respect and fear. Once.
“It appears so, milady,” Valance replied. “Navid has returned as well.”
Maeve only barely stopped herself from growling. When the centaur arrived in Tierra Vida with only Eila and Rielle, Maeve nearly killed the demi- human on the spot for failure to protect his charge, failure to protect the Phoenix heir, for failing in general. While she and her younger brother were not particularly close, things would be much different if he were there; if Navid had done his job. Valance noticed, picking up his pace to intercept the centaur. Maeve caught him up.
“This is now the third time you’ve taken my nieces from this camp without my permission, centaur,” Maeve barked. To his credit, Navid merely paused and stood tall against the verbal beating. She made it very clear that the girls were not to leave the camp, especially after the fiasco with Kaleo. Her brother’s eldest child would visit the refugees against his step-mother’s wishes after they arrived in Tierra Vida. He was a favorite among the people, much like his father had been, riling them up with stories of finding the lost prince, of knowing Gannon was alive. It gave the people too much false hope, forcing Maeve to send him back to Esbeth where he belonged. The last visit had not gone well with the boy leaving in a fit state. A week later, his step- mother, the Esbethi Amatessa and Gannon’s widow, sent a coterie of soldiers to retrieve him. The cursed woman could do that but could not lift a finger to help former allies.
Eila was similar to the Amatessa - jumping in at the wrong time. Her twin sister was no better, both of them folding their arms across their chest as they moved in front of Navid.
“We asked him to take us,” the girls said in unison.
“We don’t learn anything by staying in camp, Aunt Maeve,” Eila added.
“Or by twiddling our thumbs,” Rielle finished.
They were too much like their mother, both headstrong and stubborn. They spoke with the people, worked with them, but would never be accepted as leaders. The tirsai let a woman lead them once and it led them to ruin. They would never allow such a thing to happen again. Maeve let it go, focusing on Navid. His black hair was starting to show signs of his age, with streaks of gray laced throughout.
“What is this?” Maeve asked as she snatched a folded parchment from the centaur’s hands. He sighed but did not argue or try to take the parchment back.
The girls practically bristled like angry cats. The letter was from Kaleo. Maeve read it quickly, turning the parchment over with a frown.
“Where is he, Navid?” Maeve demanded. It stated he was safe but not where. Her erstwhile nephew had already caused enough grief. He was a problem she intended to nip in the bud as quickly as possible; a problem that should have been nipped at birth.
“I don’t know, highness. That was all I received.” Maeve’s brows drew down to a furious point, nostrils flaring as she moved forward toward the much larger centaur. Honor would not let him back down, stubborn rage would not allow Maeve to back down either.
“You keep too many secrets, guardian. You exist out of a need to keep the girls safe because I can’t spare any
