"You must be prepared to kill when there is no other option than your life or theirs," Aribelle's voice hissed.
The reverberating growl that rumbled through The Pit with her words set Agatha's teeth on edge, the hair on her nape prickling. Standing hidden behind the brush, Agatha stared out into the clearing before her, where Aribelle stood aggressively over Wren's small frame cowered on the ground.
"I don't want to kill anyone," Wren whimpered up at Aribelle.
Agatha's heart ached for Wren, who looked utterly pathetic, lying on the ground at Aribelle's feet. Wren's blonde hair was matted, dirt and blood caked into the snarls that hung below her waist, and though Agatha's eyesight had been deteriorating as of late, the look of fear on Wren's face was unmistakable.
"Then go back to the kingdom from which you came," Aribelle shouted. "It was Olthaire, was is not? Tell me, did they feed you well there as you lay dying on their streets? Did anyone offer to help you without payment of your body or coin? You were neglected and abused by the very people you wish to spare from harm! This calls into question your loyalty, Wren. I will not be disobeyed, so if you cannot stomach punishing the very same ones who left you to die on the streets of Olthaire, then go back to that life of starvation and homelessness."
"I don't want to be like them," Wren cried.
"You have until tomorrow to give me your decision, Wren. I will not tolerate another hesitation from you. You have no other choice but to kill or be killed by them, so next time you fucking kill them, or you will no longer be my burden to bear," Aribelle growled, stalking away and leaving the woman to cry in the field alone.
"It is not polite to spy on people," Aribelle said dryly from Agatha's left side.
Gasping and clutching her chest, where her heart thundered a frantic rhythm, Agatha turned wide, guilty eyes to Aribelle.
"H-How did you--"
"A lot has changed while you've been doing Goddess knows what," Aribelle said, waving a hand in front of her.
Agatha led the way back to the stairs, her mind reeling. Indeed, it appeared much had changed, but one thing was clear: Aribelle was still in control of the beast. If her control had waivered in the cottage, it was clear now that it was the crystals that had lost some of their magical charges. A beast out of control would have ripped Wren's prone form to shreds, leaving nothing but cleanly picked bones.
"About where I've been...I was hoping we could discuss that over supper," Agatha said, steeling herself.
"Of course, Momma. If you'll excuse me, I need to see Nilzan before I leave here. I will see you for supper and look forward to truths coming out," Aribelle replied.
"What truths?" Agatha asked, swallowing loudly.
When there was no answer, Agatha turned around and was startled to see that Aribelle had disappeared without a sound. With an uneasy chuckle, Agatha decided to add stealth to her growing list of concerning new behaviors. Quickly ascending the steps, Agatha hurried home to make Aribelle's favorite dinner of beef tips soaked in gravy with a side of peppered potatoes. After dinner began to simmer on the stove, Agatha cleaned the cottage and went about her daily chores to keep herself busy and her mind off the difficult discussion she and Aribelle would have later.
Several hours later, after the cottage was scrubbed spotless, the laundry folded, and the table set for supper, Aribelle was shaking with anger in her chair across from Agatha.
"I must have lost my Goddess given hearing. I could have sworn you just said that we should consider an alliance with Vildaheim and Olthaire," Aribelle said, her spoon halfway to her mouth as anger flashed in her blue eyes.
"Much has changed in twenty years, my beauty. An alliance would ensure that our people--"
"My people," Aribelle interrupted.
"Pardon?" Agatha asked sharply.
"They are my people. They became my people when I was the only one here to lead them, while you were off apparently sipping wine with our enemies," Aribelle said matter-of-factly.
"None of these people would be here if it wasn't for me, Aribelle. The coven. I protected them when the troops invaded Meyorn. I created the beasts, saved them from their tragic lives of poverty and endless hunger," Agatha replied curtly.
"That is true," Aribelle conceded with a nod of her head.
Agatha relaxed a fraction, her back still ramrod straight as her blood simmered in her veins.
"It could also be said that all of this is your fault," Aribelle said.
Agatha felt the blood drain from her face as Aribelle sat across from her with an arched brow and a wicked smirk.
"You know," Agatha said shakily.
Agatha should have heeded Aribelle's earlier words because now there was no escaping certain truths coming out.
Three: Breaking Point
“I don’t want to hurt people anymore, Momma.”
“You must, my beauty, lest they hurt you first. Everyone is your enemy.”
"Of course, I know, Momma. Did you think it would remain secret forever? Did you not think that the very beasts you created for me would, in turn, become loyal to me?" Aribelle sneered.
Sweat beaded on Agatha's brow, her instincts demanding her to flee in the face of the beast's anger, but she dug her fingernails into her palms, forcing herself to show no fear.
"You put on a fantastic façade, but it is of no use to you anymore. Fear became a distinct scent on the eve of my eighteenth birthday. You stink up the cottage with your weakness on a daily basis, so you can stop pretending you are fearless. Unless, of course, such fallacies soothe you at night while you toss and turn, stuck deep in the throes of your night terrors," Aribelle said with a cruel smile.
"I was young and foolish. I let my anger and humiliation get the best of me, my beauty, you can understand that, right?" Agatha pleaded.
Agatha could see it happening, the beast rising swiftly to the surface as it's snarl of rage rattled the windows. She flinched as claws sprouted from Aribelle's fingers, digging into the wooden table, her eyes flashing crimson.
"You cursed an infant to spite a woman who insulted you at the market," Aribelle snarled. "You damned me just hours after I was born, yet you raised me to call you my mother."
"I saved you, Aribelle. I may have cast the curse, but I was not the one who abandoned you," Agatha whispered brokenly, her cheeks glistening with tears.
"Saved me?" Aribelle choked out incredulously. "You forced their hand, did you not? Tell me, mother, what would have become of me, of my parents, if when I shifted at the full moon just weeks old?"
Agatha buried her face in her hands, shame flooding her. Nothing could have prepared her for this day, the day when Aribelle discovered the truth about how she ended up here with Agatha in Jurot.
"Answer me!" Aribelle roared, fur bristling up from her arms as her fangs descended.
Agatha cast a terrified glance around the room, the crystals still dimmed, but fully charged with her magic. Her gaze snapped back to Aribelle, horrified as her adopted daughter let out an evil chuckle. Aribelle stood slowly, moving with predatory grace, as she crossed the room to the nearest crystal embedded in the wall. One claw-tipped finger dug into the stone, neatly dislodging the crystal. Aribelle turned back to Agatha, looking her in the eye as she closed a fist over the stone, crushing it easily until it was nothing but a powder that slipped through her fingers like sand.