Chapter 30: The Only One I Trust
MIRANDA’S POV
My life was fine. It was fun — simple, but warm. Living with Mom and Dad, I never once thought I was missing anything. Even though we didn’t have a lot, we didn’t need much. If something was missing, if there was a shortage in our home, all we had to do was ask a neighbor. They would give freely, and we would do the same.
Our village was small, quiet, self-sustainable. The people were kind, the streets safe, laughter a daily rhythm. There was almost no crime, and everyone lived happily. And so I was happy.
Until one day...
One of our neighbors went to collect his harvest on the outskirts of the village. He never came back. A day passed. Then two. Then three. Still nothing. That had never happened before.
The adults whispered, their faces drawn with worry. Then they organized a search party. My father joined them — strong, dependable, one of the first to volunteer.
On the morning of the third day after the man had vanished, my father and the others set out early. I remember waving at him as he walked into the trees, promising myself I’d see him again by evening.
Hours passed. Then more. Still, they did not return. The worry spread like a sickness. Even Mother, who always kept her composure, wore unease on her face. She tried to hide it, but I caught her alone in her room, hands clasped, lips trembling with words I could not hear.
Praying.
Mother told me once that prayer was a way to speak with your god. But our village... we had no god. None had ever taken us under their wing. She herself had said that no god cared enough to watch over us.
So why pray? Why whisper words into a void that would never answer?
I never asked her. Because every time she prayed, she came back calmer, more at peace. Until that day. On that day, even after she prayed, she was still trembling. Still afraid.
The sun sank. The village gathered in the square, waiting. Hoping. Any minute now, they told themselves. Any minute, the search party would return.
And then we saw a figure stumble out of the woods.
Cheers rang out. Children ran forward, then their parents followed. Smiles bloomed — but then faltered.
Because as he drew nearer, we saw. The man was torn, broken, covered in blood. His gait was unnatural, as if his legs could no longer obey him. He staggered toward us, eyes wide, mouth gasping desperate words.
The adults rushed to him, hands outstretched. He pushed them back, screaming —
"Run! They’re coming!"
We froze. Confusion. Then...
The sky ignited.
Huge balls of fire crashed down from above. They fell without mercy, without pause. Explosions tore the earth, setting huts aflame, throwing bodies like rag dolls. The air burned.
Mother seized me and dragged me into our hut. We collapsed together against the wall, her arms wrapping around me like chains.
BOOM.
BOOM.
BOOM.
The fireballs kept falling. The ground shook. Through it all, I could still hear Mother’s sobs. She tried to keep them quiet, tried to bury her face in my hair, but I felt every trembling breath.
Then silence.
We waited, breathless. Finally, she dared to open the door. We stepped outside.
And found nothing.
No one.
The entire village had been erased — people, homes, fields, everything reduced to ash and ruin. Everyone was gone.
Everyone... except us.
Our hut alone stood untouched, a lone island in a sea of fire. I don’t know why. Maybe Mother’s prayer had worked after all.
We had nowhere to go. Nothing to return to. So when those towering men arrived — soldiers, gleaming in armor, their banners strange and unfamiliar — and told us to come work for them, Mother agreed immediately.
That’s how we came to the mansion.
Mother rose quickly, somehow, to the rank of Head Maid. She was respected. But me... I was always the outcast. Always scorned, judged, punished unfairly. Everyone treated me like an intruder.
But they treated him worse.
Avin.
He was despised, mocked, dismissed by all. And because he was hated more than I was, I found myself drawn to him.
At first, he was sad, broken in a way I couldn’t describe. But I believed — no, I knew — that with my help, and with Mother’s, we made him better. We gave him something no one else ever did.
Even now, even though he has been acting so strangely ever since he returned from the Abyss, after Mother, he is the only one I trust.
Because I believe with all my heart... he would never do anything to hurt me.
Because he loves me.
I looked at him. He lowered his head, his eyes closed. My heart stuttered.
Then his voice came, firm, unshaking.
"Yes."
The word struck the chamber like a hammer.
And just like that, tears spilled from my eyes.
END OF POV