A gentle autumn breeze rustled the falling leaves of the world Anthony had taken them to, the sweet scent of apples tickling Rachel’s nose as the Legend took them further into the woodlands. The snapping of branches and crunching of dying leaves tickled her ears, the wind pressing her blue dress against her figure as they walked.

  She gave the man time to collect himself, eclipse eyes occasionally drifting to him on their path through the spaced-out trees, seemingly knowing the terrain. The soft hums of a young woman came from not too far in the distance, accompanied by the clattering of kitchenware, presumably their destination.

  Anthony rubbed the back of his neck, looking more uncomfortable than Rachel had ever seen him, not that that had been long. Whatever it was, it affected him on a level he wasn’t accustomed to speaking about; reading the mood, she wasn’t about to make it harder on him, so she let him work his way up to it.

  Her focus lifted to the beams of white Lunar Energy that illuminated the somber, quiet forest; she could hardly hear any animals or creatures in the area, leaving the place sounding quite unnatural and compressing, yet oddly serene.

  After a few minutes, Anthony shivered and made his first comment since they started their journey, avoiding eye contact. “I…just want to preface this with the understanding that Amelia will suffer if you leak any of what I’m about to tell you.”

  Rachel followed his gaze to just below her upper arm, her sleeveless blue dress revealing her bare skin, where the tattoo teeth marks of the Cerberus Triplets were visible in the bright moonlight. He drew attention to the back of his hand, showing the mark of the black dove.

  “Okay,” she responded, not making light of the warning as she returned her wide field of vision to the haunting forest, a light mist now floating down from their upward climb into the surrounding hills. “Nia isn’t going to break your trust. It’s just you and me, and you know I’m not the type of person to run my mouth. What are you wrapped up in?”

  He puffed out his stress and rubbed at his watery eyes, fighting the surge of emotion that must have gripped him after holding all of it in over the last few hours. Sucking in his bottom lip, he cleared his throat.

  “…The short version…I grew up with this girl back in Ireland, from my kid years to my teens, and we…had this…relationship, I guess you could call it. She started it,” he prefaced, finding it hard to keep his hands still while rubbing his forearm. “You could say that she enchanted me, and it…wasn’t exactly endorsed by my family. Her name is Ciara.

  “Everyone is more or less upset because I did have an affair with her a few weeks after Amelia and I were together. I told her about it immediately, and she…took it surprisingly well, which came partly due to her own guilt about having cancer, I believe. Nothing else has come from it since…until now.”

  He gulped and slowed to a stop, trying to keep eye contact and not get distracted by her hair, drawn back by the gentle gusts. “At the funeral…Ciara came to me and…asked for my help. Her stipulations are that only one other person can know the facts of this…contract. It cannot be Amelia. I’m…ashamed to ask…but I’m not sorry. You’re the one person I believe I can trust to, mmh…to help me through this, even if it isn’t fair to pull you into this situation.”

  Head tilting to the side, Rachel did him the service of looking to the side, keeping her face neutral while pondering his situation from multiple angles. His words touched something within her, though; she was the only one he could rely on. Anthony certainly had a way of making a girl feel special, and the true nail in the heart was that he was always sincere.

  “Hmm. You can’t think I’d miss your word choice, ‘asked for my help, stipulations, contract.’ This isn’t her asking. It is a demand that you morally cannot turn down, yet there is another moral burden compressing you from another side…”

  Her expectant gaze returned to his pain-filled lime-green eyes, glistening with the tears he’d wiped away. “From reading your Legends last week, am I to assume Ciara is the Legend of Gráinne, who was arranged to marry Fionn mac Cumhaill… The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Gráinne tale. And who is Fionn?”

  Anthony winced, clipped fingernails sinking into his forearm as the mist rolled in around them. “My uncle, who taught me everything I know… It’s neither of their fault, though; it’s mine… It’s all my fault. Balor is the true manipulator that isolated Ireland. He’s a cyclops-like demon in Irish mythology, and…Ciara found out that he has a few geasa on him…

  “Geasa…magical enhancements, like your Love Spot, I assume. And they’re on Balor, not Ciara? Obviously, they aren’t curses, since Maria said the one on you isn’t one,” Rachel whispered, gaze drifting to the dove on the back of his hand. “I could guess from what I read on the rabbit hole I went on, diving through each of your legend’s tales, but why don’t you enlighten me.”

  Goosebumps ran along his muscular arms as he tensed and shivered, taking a minute to gather his thoughts. He held up his hand to display the dove.

  “A geis is like a seal or magical promised destiny… You can have multiple on you, like Balor somehow obtained, or only one—goddesses or prolific rulers generally have the power to cast them.

  “And…typically, they are treated, mmm, somewhat like a curse…only with heavy blessings and benefits. Prevent something from happening, abstain from some action, or do something specific, and you will gain some kind of blessing…break it, and the curse will be…hellish.”

  Rachel leaned against a tree, glancing left at the hazy outline of a log cabin past the mist. “And if you do as it instructs, then there will be an amazing outcome, such as, say…Amelia’s guaranteed safety and recovery? I can see why you weren’t worried about her and rushed to join this operation. And…what happens if you fail, and how long do you have?”

  Reaching up to rub his mouth, Anthony puffed out his cheeks and eased out his back against the hard bark of the tree he was leaning against. “If I do what I’m asked, Amelia will be healthy. Her cursed cancer will be essentially sealed by the geis. She will recover over the next few days, and I’ve texted her family to come to be with her.”

  “That’s…not what I asked,” Rachel sighed, crossing her arms and giving him a worried frown. “I can’t understand how you feel…the lengths you’d go to for Amelia, and…now, apparently, Ciara is tugging at your heart, as well. You’re trying to find a solution that is beneficial to both, no matter the stress it puts on you…but what happens if you break that geis?”

  Lips becoming a line, he shrugged his shoulders and scoffed, “It doesn’t matter because I will find a way to…stop all this shit from happening. I mean, we’re practically already set on going to Ireland anyway to help Arthur and Fiona. All I need is for you to support me to get it done—I need to find some way around Balor’s geasa within fifty days…without involving Ciara being forced to become a queen.”

  Rachel felt knots tightening in her back; he was in denial and didn’t want to even consider the possibility of not fulfilling his oath, which meant it was bad. In reality, it would need to be a powerful curse in order to counter the cancer and protect his fiancée.

  “Okay…fifty days is the time limit you’re under. And not becoming a queen is an interesting condition. I’ve done a lot in a short period of time, but it would help if I knew what you had to do to fulfill this ‘destiny’ Ciara put you on. What are Balor’s geasa?”

  Anthony cleared his throat, discomfort sliding away as they moved on to things he could actually focus on. “Balor is too strong to handle in open combat due to the geasa that empower him. Essentially, he grows stronger the longer that the following conditions are met:

  “One, so long as the nation recognizes no Irish king and queen, then Ireland will be isolated from the rest of the world in a barrier of winding mists. This is the reason why no one can make it out or inside the country without invoking…special methods.

  “Two, he cannot lose a battle against the nation, so long as he does not face both king and queen. However, that does not mean he cannot draw a conflict, or they can refrain from entering a ‘battle’ to invoke that clause, which is a loophole that the Irish are using.

  “Three, he can only open his eye once a day for one minute, which blasts whoever his gaze lands upon with intense amounts of Death Energy. It is basically a one-shot kill. Luckily, illusions and obstruction abilities have worked thus far to…dampen the effects.

  “Four…so long as the king and queen have not consummated their love for one another on their wedding night, and no royal heir is within the Irish queen’s womb, then Balor cannot be truly defeated. Apparently, the first night together will spark the magic,” Anthony mumbled at Rachel’s lifted eyebrow.

  “Also, only by the queen’s hand, while with child, can he truly be slain,” Anthony finished, making Rachel roll her eyes.

  “Uh-huh. Only a pregnant woman can kill the death-eye laser cyclops. Someone sounds a little too insecure about winning a fight.”

  “Haha. Not wrong, I guess,” he sighed. “Finally, five, all these conditions must be made known to the whole of Ireland’s current residents…which doesn’t include tourists or visitors, and was done by a communication spell that…frankly, is too powerful to be used just after The Oscillation. It had to be planned for decades in advance.”

  Rachel rubbed the back of her neck with a strained laugh. “Oh, just another group like the Scarlet Hand or brought up by the Scarlet Hand… Great. Is that all? I mean, I guess giving yourself an obvious weakness like that is big, but everyone would need to agree to it, wouldn’t they…a king and queen of Ireland. Shit. I can see a few loopholes already, though.” She gave him a forced smile. “And you think we can do that in…fifty days? Dammit, Anthony. I’m a fighter, not a matchmaker.”

  He rubbed between his eyes. “Ciara is…capable of being a queen, and has a lot of pressure on her head to marry my uncle, who is the Legend of Fionn mac Cumhaill. She views him as a father, not like…that, and those conditions require her to get pregnant and deliver the final blow. I…am a king candidate, but I can’t betray Amelia… Yet, millions of people’s lives are on the line.”

  Turning to pace, he threw up his arms, releasing everything that was on his heart. “I know that if it were between Amelia and a million random people, I’d choose Amelia without a second thought, and I know I’m a bastard for doing it, but I wouldn’t regret it… I’d feel guilty, and I’d make whoever made me make that choice suffer, but she is everything to me. The issue is…”

  “Ciara,” Rachel whispered, feeling the urge again to try and comfort him as he spiraled; it would be like someone telling her to choose between her parents, or perhaps even stronger, considering how strongly Anthony cared for the two women. “It’s not just one million random people… It’s millions of random people, your family, and Ciara.”

  Anthony’s pain-filled eyes shifted to her. “I…can’t lose either of them—this is the only way I can even attempt to make things right,” he said, holding up the black dove tattooed on the back of his hand.

  “You’re the only person I know of who…can help me make this happen. You’re amazing, Rachel—it’s stunning to see how well you’ve navigated these waters. I know I shouldn’t involve you in my problems…but I have to ask,” he cried, looking up at the foggy sky and letting out all of his shame. “I have to ask.”

  “Mmm.” Vision falling to the leaf-covered forest floor, Rachel let the silence hang for a time as the sobering cry for help shivered down her spine to her tail. Another consideration she had to make was how Fiona might feel about this news; her whole family lived in Ireland, after all, and now that she had the full context of what was happening inside, she knew the fairy would be anxious to fly right inside to protect her family.

  “…Ciara still loves you—she feels betrayed—and you still love her…yet you love Amelia, as well.” Looking into his tortured face, she sighed. “What guilt are you carrying that is weighing you down this much, though? Yes, Ciara means a lot to you, but…you chose Amelia. Do you regret that?”

  Sagging against the tree again, Anthony searched the scattered stars, twinkling through the mist that momentarily thinned before hiding them away.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “No,” he flatly stated. “But I care about both of them; they’re both on my mind… I think about them all the time, and I hate that I can’t give Amelia everything. Yes, I chose and choose Amelia… But if Ciara is in front of me, asking for help…I can’t deny her. I’m a letch. How can I be worthy of either of them if I can’t give either my everything? I think about it all the time…and I regret everything.”

  Rubbing his face, he forced a laugh, making Rachel’s heart go out to the conflicted redhead, clawing at his own heart and imperfections as the weight of not only his world but of Ireland fell onto his shoulders.

  “Amelia should be cured. Maria could make it all better…but because of my damn Legend, she’s in that bed, fighting for her life every second. Because of me, Ciara is put in an impossible position; she’s forced to marry someone she sees as a father, and he sees her as a daughter… I’m the common denominator. Me. It is all because of my Legend. I have to get stronger—I have to make it right.”

  Ears folding forward, Rachel could feel the pressure winding around her own heart at the emotion in the redhead’s voice, and she almost wanted to walk over to pull him into a hug, which was very unlike her; maybe it was because she wasn’t used to men being so vulnerable, yet willing to take on so much responsibility. It kind of felt like he was trapping himself.

  Restraining herself, she kept her distance and tried to separate herself from the situation, dissecting how he felt rather than feeding into it.

  “False logic…but I can understand where you’re coming from… You can’t put the burden of being forced into this Legend on yourself, as much as anyone else can for something outside their control… I have to have control and have a solution. I get it…”

  Anthony remained passive, shaking his head, and her ears twitched as his heart jumped like pounding drums. [Bestial Instincts], [Divine Beast Empowerment], and [Mental Acceleration] were not her friends right now. Her sensory Feats drew her in and helped her relate, which was exactly what they’d done regarding her relationship with Alexa. Only, this was far more visceral with the man right in front of her.

  Even from this distance, his hot skin felt like a radiator, her wide field of vision catching every twitch with his expressed emotion. Her mind and heart were a whirlwind of thought and emotions she’d never experienced before, and [Strategic Mind] was all too willing to inform her why: she’d never had a guy trust her so much and rely on her before, much less break down in front of her.

  Honestly, she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. She wanted to help, and he needed someone to release this stress gripping his soul—to help him with this mess. Was she the best person to provide that help? Yes. There wasn’t anyone else that could help him.

  She looked into his shame-filled, liquidy green eyes as he glanced away, gripping his elbow with frustration. “I was making progress… I had solutions, and then…and now Ciara is suffering alone, trapped, and feeling isolated…like I hate her.

  “How can I fix it? I can’t see Amelia or talk to her—I can’t tell her—or both of them will die. How can I cut contact with her…even if she’ll be safe? I know she’ll blame herself… What am I supposed to do?”

  Breathing out the tension in her own lungs, Rachel whispered, “Exactly what you did. I know you’re looking for someone to help carry the load. I have your back, okay? Just focus on what you can. I’ll take care of it.”

  Anthony stammered out a caustic laugh, finally accepting her embrace, his strong arms closing around her upper back. “You’re already carrying Scarlet and so many other things… Dammit. Dammit. I should be helping you with your load.”

  Chuckling a little, Rachel used her ear to flick under his chin, making him stiffen and let go for her to pull away. She gave him an aggressive smirk.

  “The world’s gone to hell, Anthony. Do you think I would have been able to do half the bullshit I’ve done without the members of Omen and the talents each of us have? If the roles were reversed, you’d just do me a solid and help a hare out. Cool? Now, we gonna kick this Legend Quest’s ass or let guilt bury us?”

  Red cheeks puffing out, Anthony forced a laugh and used his shirt to clean his face. “Son of a bitch. You really are made of nails, Puffy Tail. Thanks for having my back. I don’t suppose that big brain of yours already has a plan in motion?”

  Rachel shot a dubious smirk his way as she walked toward the misty cabin. “Is that a hit on my head being out of proportion, or am I reading too much into that?”

  “Phew! Haha. I thought you’d focus more on the puffy tail part than the head; nice redirect.”

  “Oh, no,” she snickered, finding her hands behind her back again with a sly, side-long look at the Legend, “that was most definitely a slip on your part, but why attack the obvious angle? I’ve got a nice ass, and I’ve seen the looks guys give my backside. Facts are facts.”

  “Right, that ultra-wide field of vision,” Anthony mused, rebounding with a vengeance as he compartmentalized his emotions for the tasks ahead. “Facts are facts… A tail with a dress certainly does leave an impression in the wind,” he casually noted, almost making Rachel trip.

  “Damn! Not bad, lover boy,” Rachel chortled. “On the more serious side…we’ll make it work. Ireland is already on the schedule. We can talk about details that we can share on the way back. We’ll figure something out.”

  He smiled at the cabin as the door opened, and a young, blonde-haired woman exited, wearing an apron. “You’re too good, Rachel… Annabel, it’s Anthony. I assume you felt us getting near your cabin?”

  The woman showed a crooked, somewhat yellow-toothed smile, her ratty hair pulled into a bun with a ribbon. “Fireweed, you’re back!” she chimed, hopping down her steps to jog over to them. “And…you brought another weird woman. Great…” she finished, upbeat voice cheery but her undertone far from it. “Who is this showy hare? What a pretty blue dress. I hope you didn’t eat any of the gray mushrooms that grow on northern fallen trunks.”

  Rachel lifted an eyebrow at the sudden, off-handed hostility. “No? Uh, don’t mind me; we’re just friends. I’ll just be over there, Fireweed,” she mumbled, scooting to a tree a distance away. “Have your way with him, sweetie.”

  “Oh? I could have sworn I felt two people sharing their hearts… Maybe I imagined it,” she giggled. “Friends. Friends. Mhm! So, Fireweed, I finished my brew for you. Some nasty stuff to fight that little infection to that blood you gave me. I hope your brother recovers swiftly!”

  Brother…right, Rachel internally laughed at the doting woman, no doubt the hag or witch of this forest that Anthony had charmed. She gave the pair a parting glance while checking herself out of the conversation. I don’t know how Amelia isn’t more defensive and threatened… The dude is a literal chick magnet, and he isn’t even using his Love Spot.

  Waiting for them to conclude their business, Anthony expertly maneuvered his way out of the dubious creature’s lustful claws, taking the potion she’d brewed for him. And once on their path back through the forest to meet up with Nia, she got the low-down on the Quest details.

  Apparently, the hag wasn’t entirely bad and mainly fed off sexual desire, which…had its problems in the nearby town regarding infidelity and making quite a mess. Selvaria had wanted to dump gasoline on the hag and watch her burn, but he saw a way to tone things down with a more…entrepreneurial method, having the hag provide ‘lovers’ counseling, which, evidently, had its benefits for the townsfolk.

  Rachel couldn’t help but shiver at the minefield Anthony had navigated; their party’s entry into this town had been a tense one, with the men and women being more than a little aggressive in some uncomfortable ways. Once again, Selvaria wanted to burn down the whole town, not doing well in those situations and transforming into her monster form on the land, causing a panic.

  Making their way into the recovering town, she found Nia had attracted the attention of a traveling merchant who had spotted her on the way to fetch something from his cart; the soldier bun was totally playing up his flirtatious comments to get him to give her more goodies.

  After a brief exchange, she got Nia away, beaming with pride at a new shawl that he’d gifted her. Anthony had a strained smile as Rachel led them out of the town, the merchant waving them off.

  “Please, return tomorrow for more wonderful items, Lady Nia!”

  “We’ll think about it!” Rachel swiftly returned. “Have a good night.”

  Nia hugged the white shawl around her frame, bouncing with excitement. “This world doesn’t have your trade rules, Major. Such an interesting fabric, as well. It is entirely natural and tastes sweet. What a wonderful man.”

  “Sure. Haha. Well, let’s get back before Scarlet thinks we’ve been kidnapped. Anthony?”

  Now outside the wooden walls, protecting the small woodland town, Anthony summoned his sword and made a slashing motion. “Already ahead of—well…isn’t this awkward?”

  Rachel’s eyes narrowed, instincts going on high alert as the split opened up to the cozy room they’d left, and two figures sat inside two of the armchairs, Cássia maintaining her lady-like cadence beside one.

  “Aurora, Countess Elizabeth…to what do we owe this ambush?”

  The sparkling, green-dressed fae Mythickin held her mouth with a playful smirk, emerald eyes taking in every inch of their appearance, and wearing a black, flowery masquerade mask that contrasted her silvery hair. Worse, they’d caught her when she wasn’t wearing Nia.

  “What a lovely dress that is, Puff Ball; I especially adore the boots—feisty!” she chortled, her hidden goat legs crossing the opposite way under her long green gown. “And what an…unusual fashion choice that shawl is, Little Ears.”

  Nia’s face instantly fell into a scowl. “Well, I hate her all over again.”

  “No, Darling,” the fae earnestly returned, glossy lips shimmering with amusement. “I’m complimenting you!”

  Anthony was the first through, Rachel following as she glanced between them; The Countess’ eyes were closed, almost looking as if she were in a hibernation state.

  “Is that supposed to be a jab at my ears, then?” Rachel muttered, recalling the proper brunette 13-year-old speculating that her mistress would make an appearance. “I thought you would not be seeing us until the bell rang.”

  A slight upward tilt came to The Countess’ mouth, her chest expanding with her deep breath before letting it out in a silent, controlled exhale, eyes opening, and intense ruby irises drifting to her, yet Cássia was the one to speak first.

  “The Countess apologizes for the abrupt entry. She is positive you will be invested in what she has to say.” Providing a deep curtsy, the teen performed perfectly. “I will return to my duties attending to Lady Scarlet and leave you to your privacy.”

  Turning on her heels, the 13-year-old made her exit, leaving all eyes on the high-class woman, and now that Rachel was closer, she saw the woman’s hair was more brown than black as the previous backdrop had made it seem. Rachel didn’t look away, but suddenly, a new theory plucked in the back of her mind.

  Cássia is clearly given special treatment… Is she Elizabeth’s actual daughter? Mateo mentioned that she had children in her historical biography. It would make a lot more sense why the other servants treat her differently, despite her earlier story. In fact, it could still fit with the narrative.

  “Please, sit,” the woman whispered, low and laced with barbed irons. “I have a proposal that you should find quite amenable for all three of you.”

  Nia snorted, arms crossed under her bust. “Am I invisible, Countess?”

  The woman’s gleaming, liquid-like pupils drifted to Nia, making the rabbit shiver instinctively with the feeling of the entire room examining her from every angle. “On the contrary, I count you as one with Rachel as her Soul Item. Now, will you entertain my visit, Hare of Misfortune?”

  Rachel gave a non-verbal gesture to Anthony as he glanced at her, smoothly moving to the three armchairs that had been moved to face the pair. “Are you aware of what we are about to discuss, Aurora?”

  The magical woman removed her mask, holding it to the side with a teasing lilt to her sing-songy voice. “Would it be so challenging to preface it with Lady? I’ve quite enjoyed this noble atmosphere; it makes me feel all warm and bubbly inside. As for your inquiry? No, which is quite thrilling,” she said with a welcoming glance toward The Countess.

  “I was mysteriously called out of my room with the bait of tempting you again, which…is ever so alluring. The Countess is too good to me.” Rachel maintained her mildly annoyed posture as the jade-eyed woman’s provocative voice and gaze lingered on her. “Have you thought of me? You have, haven’t you? I’m going to blush; how much do you want to hurt me? I’ve thought about you…”

  Elizabeth’s unbothered tone drew their focus, the bone-chilling clanking sound of chains echoing through the walls as Rachel saw the ruby blood surge through the murky floor and walls; it was hard to tell if she was really here or somewhere else entirely.

  “I think that is enough foreplay, Lady Aurora.” The Countess paused, unblinking eyes drifting to each of them as she addressed them, words like needles digging into their flesh. “I will not draw this out… I know the location of The Spider that Adele hid. I take it your Outlaw King is interested?”

  Aurora’s fingers linked in her lap, her entertained allure washing away. “What game are you playing, Countess? It is not Adele who stole The Spider.”

  “Is that what you’ve been told? Hmm. It reminds me of a few promises Adele made me,” Elizabeth said, gaze drifting to Anthony and her. “I know how you can enter Ireland without tipping off any…unsavory parties, Anthony, and the identity of a certain refugee from a higher dimension.”

  The tension continued to rise as the mysterious Countess of Blood stared at Anthony, and Rachel had no doubts in her mind; somehow, she knew about the lightning entity that bound himself to the Legend. And when the ruby-eyed woman’s controlled stare met her, Rachel’s gut cramped.

  “The things I could tell you, Rachel…about your mother, Scarlet, or so many other topics, but I think we should settle on something less…drastic. What would you say if I gave you a dangerous little secret?” Her bloody lips lifted into a half-smile as if hiding a tantalizing mystery.

  “Fablekin and Mystickin are only the tip of the iceberg. Not all Legends and Myths were born at The Oscillation… Some Greater Seeds are dormant, waiting to be activated. I’m sure you can see the trouble that may bring within the vampire scene. Care to listen to my request as my dear guests?” Her bright eyes didn’t blink as Rachel met the threatening woman’s gaze. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

  Crossing her leg, Rachel felt the threads of misfortune weaving around them in a dance of push and pull, and a small smirk lifted the edge of her lips. “I always did enjoy a good dance with the devil. I’m listening.”

  “Splendid,” the woman whispered. “I will sadly not be present for the start of this Vampire’s Masquerade. Leopold, my closest confidant and a member of my company’s board of directors, will be taking my place. I will explain your parts. You see…the Four Great Baronys have arrived, and there’s been a murder.”

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