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Burning of the Bark

With a sharp inhale, Beatrice's eyes shot open and reality rushed around her like a waterfall. Her hip slammed into a wall and sent a surge of pain through every inch of her body, forcing the air from her lungs with a broken cry.

"Yer awake! Good, thought I lost you there for a second," Reinhardt said as he adjusted her body in his arms. "You passed out fer a minute. Can you walk?"

Beatrice placed her left foot on the ground gingerly, and nodded as she put her weight on it. When she tried her right leg, she felt her leg bend unnaturally as a second scream escaped her lips as Reinhardt caught her.

"Fuck, no... my leg is..." Beatrice's vision started to fade, the shock from the pain trying to force her back to that comfortable dark place. She clawed her way back to reality as she was picked up again.

She looked around and realized she was in the Green Sea. Her ears were ringing, but she could hear the familiar sounds of battle echoing. Reinhardt wrapped his muscled arm around her, securing her against him.

"Don't worry, I've got you. We'll get back to our camp and tend to you there. These Blighted Monsters won't have found it yet, not with our protection spell, yeah?"

Beatrice nodded, her mind still trying to catch up and remember how they got here.

The Blighted had reached Eilowyn. Their last major city in the Green Sea. But the walls were holding. The wards were strong. Things were looking good... so what happened?

It was the ground.

It hadn’t broken all at once. Not an explosion, not a dramatic collapse. It sighed, like something ancient finally giving up the effort of holding itself together. The roots beneath Eilowyn had shifted, centuries of careful elven shaping unraveling in a heartbeat. Stone cracked. Wards screamed. The earth buckled in great, uneven waves.

Beatrice remembered falling. Remembered grabbing for Reinhardt’s hand and catching only his wrist before the world tilted sideways and the street turned into a mouth.

Now that mouth had spat them out somewhere deeper in the Green Sea.

Reinhardt moved carefully, every step deliberate. He avoided the thicker roots instinctively, following the narrow, half-hidden paths that only someone raised near the forest would notice. The Green Sea was ancient in a way that pressed against the mind. Trees braided together overhead, their canopies forming a living ceiling that filtered the chaos of battle into a distant, hollow echo. Pale motes of elven wardlight still drifted through the air, fading remnants of spells cast generations ago.

Beatrice clenched her jaw as pain flared with each step he took. Her leg throbbed in sharp pulses, heat and cold chasing each other under her skin.

“Sorry,” Reinhardt muttered, not slowing but shifting her weight just enough to ease the worst of it. “I know. Just hang on.”

“I am,” she rasped, fingers digging into the leather strap across his shoulder. “Just… don’t drop me.”

A low, humorless huff escaped him. “Not a chance.”

They passed the remains of an old elven watch post, little more than a ring of white stone half-swallowed by moss. Vines crept over shattered sigils, their magic long spent. The forest here felt watchful, not hostile, but alert. Branches creaked softly as if listening. Somewhere far off, something howled. It wasn’t an animal sound.

Reinhardt swore under his breath and picked up his pace.

The camp was warded, hidden the old way. No banners, no fires visible from a distance. Just a bend in the land where the roots grew close together and the air carried a faint warmth. As they approached, the spell recognized them. The pressure in Beatrice’s ears eased, like stepping indoors after a storm.

A shimmer rippled through the trees, and the clearing revealed itself.

Their carefully hidden camp was there, but there was something off. That's when she saw her sons; their feet dangling a few feet off the ground as the wind caused them to sway like chimes.

Her eyes widened, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She could feel Reinhardt tense as his breathing began to sound more like growls.

She tried to move out of Reinhardt's arms, but he held her tighter so she could not get any closer.

"No, how did they find us. The wards should have—"

Reinhardt's words were stopped suddenly as a bolt of void energy pierced through his eye.

He stood still for a second before his body crumpled, dropping Beatrice with a loud snap coming from her injured leg, forcing a pained scream from her mouth that echoed through the trees.

Several Shadowkin stepped out from behind the tents with Blighted creatures at their side. They stopped at the camp's edge, watching her silently as she pushed herself up to one knee, raising her sword with a still hand.

"What are you waiting for, cowards!?" Beatrice screamed with tear-streaked cheeks. "Let's see how many of you keep breathing!"

"We're not here for you," a male voice said from behind a group of Shadowkin. "So spare us the dramatics."

The First stepped into view, his silver-black helmet seemingly absorbing any light that touched it. His form was more solid than the others.

Beatrice could only watch as she struggled to find the words as her loved ones lay lifeless around her.

"We're here for Starling," the First said calmly as he stepped closer to Beatrice. "So let us know where he is and we'll make this quick."

"Why? Why is Starling so important?"

He took a few steps closer before crouching and running his fingers through the dirt.

"When Sunclaw's Pocket Dimension was created we needed a caster on either side. To reestablish that pocket, we need the blood that ran through that original caster. Their descendant happens to be none other than Starling," the First said while standing again and dusting off his clothes. "However with all these branches... we need the actual descendant, not another version. So we need to check this one."

"You've destroyed our entire world to save your city?" Beatrice asked, her grip tightening. "You killed my family and countless others?"

"I'D KILL A THOUSAND OF YOUR FAMILIES TO SAVE MINE," the First yelled, his form starting to flare at the edges. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO RIP YOUR SOUL INTO THIRDS TO KEEP THEM ALIVE?! THE AGONIZING PAIN OF THEIR LIVES IN YOUR HANDS?! I WON'T LET THEM DIE BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO WEAK TO PROTECT YOURS."

"Any mother would," Beatrice said quietly, raising her blade. "You're not the First creation of the Mother..."

Beatrice watched as he stood silently for a few moments before unsheathing his blade.

"A stubborn bitch in every branch," he muttered, both hands gripping the hilt. "I'll send you to your family in the ether then."

As he swung his blade, there was a loud clashing sound as another person's blade intercepted the attack, sending the First stumbling backwards.

Beatrice looked up to see a large tooth-shaped blade covered in red tendrils. Held by a hand she recognized... it was her own. She followed it to see a version of herself standing tall, wearing dark armor and a cold stare.

The shooting pain surged up through her body from her leg, and the world blurred as darkness crept in. She tried to speak, but before anything could escape, she felt the cold earth as she collapsed.

It felt like an eternity in the darkness. Floating. Drifting. Images of her life filling her thoughts.

So when she felt the warmth of the fire, she realized she was staring at the dancing lights from that fire on the ceiling of her inn.

"Good, you're awake," a voice said from the corner of the room. She didn't have to look to know it was her own voice. "You almost didn't make it."

"I want to die," Beatrice said, unmoving from the bed. "There's nothing left."

"I'm sorry about what happened to your family," the other Beatrice said, standing from the desk as she folded a letter. "By the time I arrived, it was too late. The Blight already infected the entire branch, so there was nothing that could be done."

She walked over to the bed and sat next to Beatrice, who turned her head to get a better look at her twin. They looked exactly the same, save the eye patch over this new Beatrice's left eye.

"I brought you to my timeline. My kids outside... they don't have the mother that bore them anymore," she said steadily. "But I can't leave them, or this place, to do what I need to do. I need you to be here to love them like I should be."

Beatrice heard the laughter outside and her stomach flipped; it was their laughs.

"Both of them?" Beatrice whispered. "They're alive?"

The other Beatrice nodded, forcing a smile.

"Yes." She held up the folded letter. "This letter will outline some differences between our lives, as well as some need-to-know information about your future here... including what to do with Starling when you meet him."

Beatrice nodded, staring out the window as she listened to Reinhardt scold the boys who had ended up in a scuffle.

"I just want to see them," Beatrice said as her voice cracked. "I need to."

The other Beatrice helped her to her feet and walked her to the door. Beatrice stepped out into the sun and felt it shine on her second chance.

When she turned to look back, the other Beatrice was gone.

She never saw her again.