The nights were never easy. During the day, life went on as it could, with studying and practicing. The children learned how to dance and the adults perfected their art. At night, however, what used to be a Nest filled with music, laughter, and dancing was now a sad, solemn place. The people of Sha’Mahay thanked to the Gods for what few blessings they were offered, but no one celebrated. They all merely wated. The warmth of the room was not enough to comfort those who remained. Some were already dead, other’s fled away from the palace to escape the temper of the man who now held all the power in the world – not only the Serpiente throne, but also the Avian lands. All anyone could do was listen and hope for good news – or any news, or they hoped to forget.The entire room was silent as if death itself sat among them, cold arms cradling every shoulder. It was filled to the brim with dancers, all sitting or standing but none danced, looking at each other but none of them willing to say aloud what they really wished they could. They’d all tried to hope. The Nest had been, for lack of better words, the very pinnacle of hope in the Serpiente Kingdom, refusing to lose faith that everything will right itself when everywhere else allowed the quiet darkness to seep in through the cracks like a plague, but even the brightest of lights fade eventually. They all knew what was coming. News had reached them that a battle had ensued at the Keep. It broke their hearts to even consider it, but news of death – the deaths of the people they knew and loved – became so common place that sadness was quickly becoming a way of life rather than a swift, passing emotion. They’d held on for so long, but now it was all over. There was nothing left. Only one refused to let herself be dragged down. She continued to clutch onto the hope that things would be alright. She didn’t care about the throne, or who sat upon it. War and politics were never important to her. Eve just wanted the little girls who she’d practically raised to come back home. She wanted Dinah and Cecil to be safe, but how could they be safe if they weren’t there with her, right in front of her eyes? They needed to come home and bring Nara and Avery and… Already, the young man they’d come to accept as one of her own was gone. Cayden was gone, and Sha’Mahay mourned for an Avian like they’ve never done for any Serpiente before. Surely, Anhamirak would not be so cruel as to torment them further and take more…Eve’s poor heart couldn’t’ bare it.
When the messengers came, it was like the world had ended already. They were simply there to drive the last nail in the coffin. Two young men slipped past the Usurper’s guards and made their way to the Nest all the way from the battle site. They were worn and half beaten, but refused any sort of medical attention, insisting that they speak with the Mistress of the Nest before anything else could be done for them. Their message was important. Nothing else could come first. By then, her nerves were worn and she was thin. The Boa would never neglect her duties, but retired early and hardly spoke to anyone, often breaking down when she did. She’d clung to the children whom she taught, a daily reminder of what was slowly slipping from her tired hands. Cobras, mambas, hawks or ravens…none of it mattered. They’d been hers and she didn’t know how to keep going with the thought that she would never see any of them again. That fire that had made Eve so charismatic and strong was beginning to dim slowly, and anyone who looked upon her could see it clearly as day. Merely a ghost of the woman she used to be, Eve met the soldiers when she was asked, hardly strong enough to look at them, let alone listen to their words.
Dinah Cobriana was dead, her life ended by the hands of one of her own soldiers to spared her the torture their new Diente no doubt had in store for her. Each word was like an icy dagger plunged into her soul, and by the end, Eve nearly fell to the floor in a weak mess of sobs and tears, were it not for the dancers around her who chose to support her rather than let the woman they’d all followed break so easily. It was hard to breath and the words felt more like a nightmare than reality. It just didn’t fit. It was wrong. It had to be. They were so strong and young. It was nothing but babies and children who died in these wars, children who were never allowed to live the happy lives they deserved to begin with. How could they be gone? One of the men, not much older than the two dead monarchs had been, carefully walked over to her as if she might shatter further if his pace was too quick, pity in his eyes. He pressed cold metal to her hand, but did not say a word. Small and round, Eve clutched onto it without even looking for the longest time. It was like, if no one looked at it for long enough, it would change things. It would change what had happened and would be resting on someone else’s finger where it belonged, not in her frail thin hands.
For hours she held on tightly, without saying a word to anyone, just waiting. The two young soldiers had their wounds taken care of. People tried to care for Eve, but it did no good. She simply stared into the distance at things no one else could see. Memories of two little girls with garnet eyes, staring up at her like she’d let them down. A young man with golden hair who proved himself when no one believed in him. They’d tried so hard and had given so much up to make things better for the people they loved. They were reckless and wild and absolutely the best people they could have grown to be. How did this happen? How did they, of all people, deserve to be so punished? Eve’s breathing wavers as she tried to fight the calm tears that poured down her cheeks uncontrollably. She’d seen so much laughter and joy in this place. The memories of it all had haunted her as of late, but now…now they were simply too much. Eve wouldn't sleep that night.
Instead, she sat up, letting her mind wander through wild memories of the past, clutching Dinah's ring to her chest, still waiting for things to change. What was she to do now?
