Meradina gazed at her young daughter, who slept soundly in the new cot Harndak had assembled that afternoon. The girl was yet an infant, barely a year old, but Meradina already knew her life would not be an easy one. Her looks alone would cause grief among the more zealous people of Manak; though the bright blue eyes and pale golden hair made little Kandrina a beautiful child, they were extremely unusual features and often labelled a mark of Demon heritage by the temples.

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She gently brushed a strand of hair away from her daughter's face, sighing softly. She had both longed for and dreaded having a girl; while she loved her first-born dearly, there was a connection between mother and daughter that she could never have with a son. On the other hand, the women in her family had a terrible burden to carry, and she had hoped the line would end with her. Harndak knew very little of her Entamar heritage, and she planned to keep it that way; he was quite a devout man, and she knew he would think less of her if he discovered her family’s past.

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Kandrina would probably have to know at some point, if only to prepare her for the danger it could possibly lead her into. Meradina was determined to let her live as normal a life as possible though, before revealing the secret passed from mother to daughter for generations. She kissed the sleeping child on the forehead and left the room, checking Perlak on the way out. He was out for the count, unsurprising as he had spent all day running both his parents ragged. She had a feeling that boy would cause all kinds of mischief when he got older.

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“Are they both sleeping?” Harndak asked when she got downstairs.

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Meradina nodded. “Fast asleep, both of them. We should have a few hours to relax now, with a little luck.” She flopped into the chair in front of the fire, relishing the chance to take the weight off her feet. “I'll make tea in a few minutes, then probably try to sleep myself.”

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Harndak shook his head, smiling gently. “You rest, sweetheart. I'll make the tea. I'm sure I can burn a couple of wings for us both,” he joked, rising from his chair and heading into the kitchen.

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“Thank you,” she called. As the sounds and smells of cooking began wafting out of the small kitchen, she felt her eyes start to drift shut. It had been a long day, and she expected it would be a good few years before she managed to catch more than a nap in between rushing around with the kids.

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A fierce wind howled around her, shaking the trees viciously, yet it barely touched her. Darkness pressed in at her from all sides, and whispers echoed inside her mind. Meradina almost rolled her eyes; she had been experiencing the exact same nightmare for months now, since just after Kandrina’s birth. It had been frightening at first, but now she almost expected to see the dark, empty forest when she closed her eyes.

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She waited, knowing that she wouldn’t be asleep for long and would probably wake before anything more unsettling than wind and whispers came her way. This time, though, a spark of flame danced in the shadows in front of her. Entranced, she took a step towards it, then pulled back. She knew the tale, her mother and grandmother had told her often enough, and turned her back on the flickering ember.

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“Ignoring the call of your Mistress, Meradina?” said a male voice, echoing through the trees. “Do you intend to follow the path of your great aunt Sirona, and come to my side?”

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Meradina whirled around, seeking the source of the voice. “Who are you? What are you talking about?” She had never heard a man’s voice in these dreams before, though there had on occasion been strange, distorted creatures that ran through the place, whispering to each other and to her.

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“Is it so surprising that I would speak to you? You do visit my prison every night,” he said. “Your ancestors and your goddess were my original captors, you know. Or, do you?”

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The wind around her intensified, and she felt a sharp stabbing pain inside her head as old memories started flashing in front of her eyes. She saw her mother, speaking to her of the forgotten cult of the Mistress, and the priestess’ daughter she had been named for. Her grandmother, before she died, warning her about the dreams she would likely have as she grew older and that she must always turn away from the fire, and never respond to anything she might see or hear. The name Sirona drifted through her mind, as though whatever was intruding in her thoughts was searching for it, and eventually latched onto something Meradina hadn’t even realised she knew, a conversation she must have heard long before she was aware of retaining any memories...

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In the hazy moonlight that filtered through the curtains, she could just make out the edges of the door. Hushed voices came from the other side, and she listened sleepily to their conversation.

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“You can’t go out there, Sirona! You know what lives there, you know what it’s capable of! Mother always told us...”

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“A whole heap of ghost tales, that’s what she told us. I spoke to him, Reyana, he’s as much a victim as the humans they sacrificed. He wants me to help set him free, and that’s what I’m going to do. You can’t stop me.”

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“At least think of your family before you go rushing into the damned Forest! They need you here and whole, not some disembodied soul trapped at the whim of an ancient god.”

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“They’ll be fine without me for a few months. I’m not going to be stuck there forever, all I’m doing is helping the Father escape his prison...”

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“Oh, it’s ‘The Father’ now, is it? Did it occur to you that it might just be lying in order to get you out there?”

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“I’m going, Reyana, and you won’t change my mind.”

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“Fine. You want to get yourself killed, go ahead, but don’t expect any of us to come chasing after you to save your hide.”

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Two sets of footsteps marched away in opposite directions, and she faded back into sleep...

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With a horrible snapping sensation, Meradina found herself catapulted back into the present day, clutching her head. “What the hell did you do to me?” she screamed.

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The man’s voice echoed out of the darkness again. “I simply took a look through your memories. Since you only know half of the story, perhaps I should enlighten you?”

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“I don’t want anything to do with you,” she hissed. “Leave me alone!”

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The trees around her shook in the wind again, and this time the ground shook as well, so fiercely that she fell to her knees, only to be seized by the arms and shaken herself.

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​

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“Dina, sweetheart, wake up,” said a gentler, familiar man’s voice. She opened her eyes, bolting upright and staring around her at the cosy sitting room. Harndak knelt by the chair she had dozed off in, looking at her with a concerned expression. “You were talking in your sleep, love.”

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She rubbed her face, trying to erase the feeling of being exposed and violated the dream had left her with. “What was I saying?”

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He shook his head. “I couldn’t make out any words, just mumbling. You seemed upset though, is something wrong?”

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“No, just a silly nightmare.” She forced a smile, knowing she had to hide the whole truth, but part of it could be safely told. “I was lost in a forest, with something chasing me. Standard bad dream stuff, nothing to worry about.”

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He still looked worried. “Are you sure? This is the fourth time this week, love. Maybe we should go to the temple in the morning. I’m sure one of the priests will know of a blessing to ward off nightmares,” he said.

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“It’s fine, I’m probably just overworked. I spend too much time at the tailor’s, I know, and then I’m with the kids all evening.” She stood and stretched. “I’ll tell Tishala I’m leaving tomorrow, she can run that place without me easily enough. That should help ease my mind,” she smiled at him, more genuinely this time. “Now, how badly did you burn those wings?”

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Harndak glanced back towards the kitchen door. “Ah, we may need to go shopping after you visit Tishala,” he said, giving her a guilty grin. “I sort of cremated the poor bird.”

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“Well, it’s a good thing you woke me up then,” Meradina replied. “Go check on the kids, I’ll work one of my kitchen miracles.” She watched him go up the stairs, then walked into the kitchen, wafting at the smoke that filled the room.

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As she started to fix the mess Harndak had made, she felt a tear drip down her cheek. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep up this act; she hated lying to her husband, although she knew it was necessary, and sooner or later Kandrina would need to know the secret anyway. Perhaps it would be easier on them all if she just told them now. The truth will out, as the saying went, and the longer she tried to keep this secret, the more it would eat away at her.