The plan was simple. She would sneak up to the lone cabin—conveniently for her, set far from the rest of the village—slip into the mind of one of its inhabitants, slaughter the others, and finally dispose of her host. Well within her capabilities.
"Here it goes," she whispered, pulling up her hood before approaching the cabin.
Pressing her back to the outer wall, she closed her eyes and began to chant. Darkness spread across her vision as her consciousness unmoored from her body and slipped into another. It was one of the Newdawners' peculiar talents, though the spell itself had been devised and disseminated by humans, it was her kind who favored such magic most.
She awoke inside the new body, it felt weaker, slighter than her own—most likely a child's. Something was off, though. Different. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it was certainly not a common human body. Without turning her head, she asseessed her surroundings. The room was small and orderly, lit by the weak flame of a candle set beside the window. She was lying flat on a bed, though her head rested on something unusual—soft, warm… and was her hair being stroked?
Marieth stirred within the borrowed body, tilting her head just enough to look up. A woman sat beside her, a book in one hand, the other gently combing through her host's hair. Her view was partly obscured by the woman's ample bosom.
A flicker of jealousy sparked in Marieth. She glanced down at her own chest—small, nearly flat. Still, the nightdress draped over her left no doubt: this was a girl's body. Only then did she notice how tightly the host clung to the woman.
The woman felt the faint squirm and murmured softly, "Can't sleep, princess?"
Heat rushed to Marieth's cheeks. The voice was so gentle, so disarming, that an involuntary whimper escaped her lips.
"What is it, Althea? Something you want to ask?" the woman prompted, smiling down at her with quiet warmth.
Marieth clung to the woman instinctively, burying her face in the soft warmth of her belly. There was no way she could proceed with her intended plan now. A sigh slipped from her lips.
The woman exhaled gently, her fingers never ceasing their tender strokes through Marieth's hair."My clingy girl…"
The tranquil cadence of her voice seeped into Marieth, lulling her into calmness. Her awareness wavered, her grip slackened, and yet the fragility of the moment brought tears to her eyes—small, glistening droplets gathering at the corners.
Noticing, the woman gasped softly and set the book aside."D-darling? What's wrong?"
Marieth broke then, sobs spilling free as she clung tighter, desperate for the comfort of the woman's embrace.
"What is it, sweetheart?" the woman whispered, wrapping her arms around the girl's trembling frame, cradling her as though she were made of glass. "Tell me, please…"
"I'm scared!" Marieth choked out between sobs. "What will happen to us?"
The woman's expression wavered with worry."What do you mean, Althea? Is this about the way others treat you again?" Her voice rushed, pleading, anxious. "Oh, baby, it's fine, I promise. No one will treat you differently at the academy. Just a little longer, and you'll be able to enroll there. Everything will be better then, I swear it." She hugged her closer, as if the strength of her arms alone could shield her.
"There will be no academy soon!" Marieth burst into fresh tears.
"Shh… shh, darling." The woman kissed the top of her head. "It was a nightmare, wasn't it?" she soothed, rocking her gently.
Marieth hesitated, then nodded. "Y-yeah… a terrible dream."
"There's nothing to fear, princess. The Newdawners won't come." Her voice softened, tender and steady, as though the conviction itself could weave safety around them. "They swore not to strike us. And our village is far from the front. You are safe here, my love."
But Marieth's heart refused the comfort. She knew too much. She knew the promises of ceasefire were nothing but lies. The Newdawners were preparing, even now, to strike and to wipe out humanity utterly. That might not have been their original intent—but because of her foolish brother's actions, there could be no other outcome now.
Unbelievable—how one man could endanger an entire kingdom with his recklessness.
Marieth's guilt weighed heavier than anyone's. It was her family that had ignited the conflict with humans in the first place. And now her foolish brother had taken the decisive step that would seal their fates. How could she not weep? They were all going to die. The girl whose body she inhabited, the woman cradling her with such unfeigned maternal love—they bore no blame, none at all. Yet death was coming for them regardless, and they didn't even know it.
"Shhh, princess," the woman whispered, pressing a kiss to her borrowed forehead with a tender smile. "I know it feels overwhelming, and you're afraid… but as long as you are in my arms, you're safe. I promise."
Marieth's sobs only deepened. She felt weak, pathetic, helplessly needy.
"Come here," the woman murmured, pulling her closer, rocking her gently. "Cry against my chest, baby… it's all right."
Marieth pressed greedily into the warmth of that embrace, and at last her sobs softened. The rhythm of the woman's caress lulled her, until even her guardian's breath began to steady into sleep.
Marieth closed her eyes and whispered the incantation. Her spirit slipped free of the girl, back into her own body.
The plan had failed.
She shifted into the form of a crow—a signature technique of the Newdawners, though, like much of their sorcery, born of human design. Hopping onto the window ledge, she cast one last look at the peaceful figures inside.
And then her heart froze.
She could not move. Terror rooted her in place.
The girl—the one whose mind she had just possessed—was staring directly at her.
Her eyes burned red, her presence cold, unsettling. The gaze pinned Marieth, burrowing deep, peeling back her layers until it felt as though her very soul lay exposed.
A strange apathy dulled the child's expression, but that only made it worse. Marieth had never known such raw, primal fear - not even in battle. This was no ordinary human.
Her feathers bristled. With a violent shudder, she tore herself free, wings flaring as she launched into the night, flying hard and desperate.
Who in the world was that? The question clawed at her mind as she sped toward the kingdom, the darkness swallowing her flight...