"What on earth were you doing outside the prince's chambers?" Roche transmitted furiously as she tucked the boy under her arm like a basket of laundry. She slipped in through one of the tunnels that would bring her closer to the royal wing.

Orpheus didn't squirm or try to fight her as she carried him through the darkness. For his sake, she held out her hand and used her inkblood to summon a ball of moonlight toned light. He gazed at it with awe as he answered.

"I heard a voice calling me."

"Who?" Roche asked aloud. Orpheus hesitated.

"Tarak."

Roche felt a small stab of sympathy amongst her fury. The boy must be missing his guardian. "Tarak isn't here, Orpheus. We'll bring you to him soon, when it's safe to."

"You don't understand," Orpheus insisted with a strange intensity that gave Roche pause, "I heard him. He called me. He told me to walk down the halls."

A stir of doubt rushed through Roche. Did this have to do with the test somehow? But what would revealing Orpheus to the king do for Tigris?

The tunnel let out near the royal wing. Roche slipped out of the tunnel, pushing aside the painting to exit. She hustled Orpheus down the hall, his small body braced in front of hers as she knocked on Finn's door. The prince cracked it open, a relieved sigh escaping him when he saw Orpheus' elfish face peering up at him.

"Where were you?" he asked sternly as he ushered them in. Roche sighed, setting the inkblood on the bed with little ceremony.

"He says he heard Tarak calling him." she recounted wearily. Finn sighed.

"There was no one there, Orpheus." he admonished gently, tightening the boy's cloak around him. The prince's eyes were red rimmed and exhausted. He smoothed the boy's hair down. "You mustn't leave these chambers again, do you hear me? Not until we say you can."

"He doesn't understand." Orpheus told Roche stubbornly, frustration leaking into his voice, "I heard Tarak."

Roche shrugged at the prince. "He seems pretty sure that he heard Tarak."

Frustration bloomed on Finn's face. The doors creaked open, and Tigris slumped through the doors.

"Aodh knows," she announced without ceremony. Finn's gasp shattered the still night air.

"How?"

"He's too smart for his own good, that's how." Tigris grumbled, slamming the doors shut with a resounding boom. Roche couldn't help but flinch at the noise. Finn shrank back, placing his hands protectively on Orpheus' shoulders.

"Is he going to tell Father?" Finn asked, his voice sharp.

Tigris' eyes sagged shut. "He says we have to get him out of here by tomorrow or he will."

"I can't believe him," Finn hissed venomously, "He would have a child burn to obey Father?"

Tigris, oddly, didn't argue. She ran a hand through her hair, looking strangely conflicted. Roche had a suspicion that there was more to the conversation that the princess wasn't mentioning. But the bottom line remained.

"So, we need to get Orpheus out of here," she muttered aloud. Tigris nodded, running a hand over her face.

"Get some rest," she told all of them, "Tomorrow morning we'll head off."

They were all too drained to argue further.

-------

"Where have you been?" Verita demanded as Roche slipped into their chambers. The library was blissfully empty today but still icy. The electricity was still out and most of the nobles who had abandoned their rooms had left to bunk with the evacuees from the lower town. Verita glared at her ward from beneath a mound of thick cloaks.

"With Tigris," Roche answered tiredly, sliding onto the bench nearest to the stove, "Have you had dinner?"

"Not yet," Verita admitted, sagging slightly, "I was waiting for you."

The words were tinged with worry that only exacerbated the pounding in Roche's head. She squeezed her temples with her fingertips, hoping that would ease the pain.

"I'm fine, Verita. Tigris has been busy, that's all," she sighed, easing to her feet, "What do you want for dinner?"

"Sit down, Roche. You look dead on your feet," Verita commanded, her tone brooking no room for argument. Roche felt like a chastised child as she sank back onto the bench. Verita stood, her wrinkled hands fumbling with a few covered plates. "What have you really been doing these past few days?"

"Nothing," Roche denied instantly. Verita raised her brows.

"Try again."

Roche swallowed. She opened her mouth to spout off a lie when a voice filtered through her mind.

"Ala."

"Do not ignore me, Ala."

"The princess' life is in peril."

That last transmission gave Roche pause. She stood up, nearly tipping over the bench in her haste.

"Where are you going?" Verita called as she hurried for the door. Roche paused in the doorway, realizing how abrupt her exit was.

"I... forgot to get Tigris something. Eat your dinner, I'll be back soon!" she lied. Verita probably would have called her out for the piss poor excuse, but Roche was already scrambling out the door and into the towering shelves. It didn't take long for her to find the tunnel. It opened with a deafening grate of stone on stone. Roche cringed, hoping Verita's old ears would ignore the sound as she slipped into the tunnel.

She took a grand total of one step into the tunnel before a feathery wing wrapped around her like a suffocating blanket. Panic burst through Roche's chest.

"Xeosure!" she hissed.

Before the inkblood blade could even form in her hands, the wing had let her go. She crumpled to the ground, barely managing to dispel her inkblood sword before she fell on it. Roche hacked as the air left her lungs with the impact on the cold stone. She rolled onto her back, freezing when she noticed two icy, orangey avian eyes glaring at her in the darkness.

"You would attack me with a weapon of inkblood?" Circe seethed furiously, flapping their wings with rage. Roche scrambled to her feet, body coiling with nerves. She glared back at the overgrown bird.

"Did you expect any less after what you did last time?" Roche snapped, "I'm not going to deal with another one of your temper tantrums right now."

"Temper tantrums?" Circe roared, making Roche's head pulse, "I am trying to protect your destiny."

"By telling me to murder two innocent men?" Roche snorted, "Go figure."

"It is because of your future that I called you here," the Striga announced. Roche felt a surge of annoyance. She was tempted to blast through the stone walls and return to the library.

"I'm not going to argue about the princes again. I'm not killing them," Roche said flatly, trying not to feel intimidated as Circe reared up, "So if that's all-"

"No," Circe interrupted coolly, their voice icy with disapproval, "It is another part of the princess' future that worries me. I have heard pleas for help from a voice that should never be near the princess, if you succeed in your destiny."

"What are you talking about?" Roche groused.

"The boy. I know that the princes are harbouring him. They ally against the princess, just as I told you they would." Circe noted smugly.

Roche furrowed her brow. "Yeah, they're helping me. I brought Orpheus to them. They haven't done anything wrong."

"Bringing that boy into the castle was a grave error, Ala." Circe transmitted, cocking their head.

"Spare me the lecture, I've already heard it from Tigris."

"Tigris should be nowhere near the boy! He spells doom for your destiny," Circe snapped.

Roche stepped back at the sudden heat in the transmission. "He's just a kid. How can he threaten my destiny?"

"Remind me of your destiny, Ala."

"To serve and protect the royal brat. To keep her alive until she brings balance to the world." Roche recounted hurriedly. Circe peered at her, like they were waiting for her to come to a conclusion. Her mind whirred. She really wished she had some food so her thoughts would stop blending together. "You're saying Orpheus is going to stop me from keeping Tigris safe? That he's a threat to her?" she finally said.

Circe nodded. Roche blinked, numb surprise washing over her.

"He's a six year old child." she said slowly, "You're telling me that a six year old is a threat to a princess who has trained for battle her whole life?"

Circe clicked their beak. "The boy is destined to betray your beloved princess and join the traitor prince. He will be her downfall and he will be her doom."

Roche's mind spun as she translated the words. "He's going to kill her?" she asked, her voice coming out as a squeal. Her throat tightened with panic. All she could see was Orpheus' wide brassy eyes pleading for aid. He was just a kid. He didn't seem to hate Tigris at all. He hadn't used his inkblood against any of the royals.

But would he remain so kind in the future? For a moment, Roche wondered if Finn's visions had revealed Orpheus' future. She shook her head. He wouldn't have offered to shelter the boy if he'd seen him harming Tigris in the future.

"I'm sorry, Ala," Circe transmitted softly, misinterpreting her pensive silence, "It is a difficult truth to bear. An even harder one to act on."

Murder. The Striga wanted her to murder Orpheus.

If anything, those words strengthened Roche's resolve. She stared up at the Striga, her blood beginning to simmer.

"You're wrong. You've been wrong. The princes haven't made any move to betray Tigris. Orpheus has shown no hate towards any of them. You have no proof of what their destiny is. Or mine. Or Tigris'."

Circe stiffened, their feathery body going perfectly still. "You would turn your back on your destiny to prove me wrong?" the bird asked, their voice too soft. Roche clenched her jaw, her heart pounding in her chest.

Was that what she was doing?

No.

She knew that she needed to serve Tigris. There was no nobler use for her inkblood. Tigris would become the greatest queen these lands had ever seen. Roche would protect her. But it wouldn't be because of a homicidal bird dictating Roche's every action.

Tigris' path to her destined place would not be tainted with the blood of innocents.

"I'm not turning my back on destiny because I have no destiny to speak of." Roche answered finally, watching Circe's eyes go crystalline with vitriol. "I will serve and protect Tigris out of my own volition. I will see her to her rightful place on the throne and I will help her become the loving queen that I know she will be. But I do so because I want to. I am making my own future, Circe."

"We are all slaves to destiny, Ala," Circe warned, their inkblood feathers sharpening into spikes. Roche's own inkblood stirred at the threat. "Heed me. Do not let the traitor prince live. Do not let the boy live."

"I'm sorry, Circe. You've given me no valid reason to believe that Orpheus will harm Tigris." Roche said.

Circe loomed over her. "I have guided you from your first day in this city. I was the one to introduce you to your destiny. And now you are betraying me."

"Again, you have no proof-"

"Would you discount the words of the covens? They call you 'Ala' too. And do you discount the prophecy your own mother gave you?" Circe demanded, talons clicking against the ground as they pressed closer to Roche, forcing her to step back until her back hit the wall. "Do you discount all of these beings who know you will bring balance to these lands?"

Roche held up her hand defensively. "Don't come any closer!"

Circe didn't listen. Their feathers stretched into thin needles. They looked more like a monstrous porcupine than a bird.

"Do you ignore all of these warnings of the Fyra's fate to cling to a comfortable notion?" they pressed, "Do you turn your back on the fated age of balance that you are destined to bring? Do you turn your back on everyone who has waited for a time when inkblood, words, and language are celebrated rather than destroyed?"

Roche trembled, the words slicing into her more than any blade could. Verita's face popped into her mind. She pushed the image away with a stab of guilt. "I am doing what's right!"

"You are endangering this kingdom's hope with your cowardice!" Circe boomed. The cavern began to quake, stones raining down on Roche's head. Circe didn't seem to notice. Their claws slammed into the ground, creating spidery cracks. Roche was pressed flat against the wall. Her heart was pounding so hard she could barely hear herself shout,

"Enough!"

Circe froze, one claw raised. Roche held out her hand, inkblood blooming in her palms. They both stared at each other, a terrible stalemate. One twitch from the beast and Roche's inkblood would blast them across the chamber.

She stood, her chest heaving. Circe's accusations rattled around her mind deafeningly, swirling into a maelstrom of panic and fury. She halted Circe from coming closer with a single look.

"You are going to let me out of here," she growled, "You will not send me any more transmissions. You will not ask me to kill anyone else."

"Ala-"

"You will not talk to me unless Tigris' life is in danger. And I mean immediate danger." Roche continued as if she hadn't heard the Striga, her heart rate speeding up to a frantic throb. "And most of all, you will not question my loyalty again. I don't need my inkblood to condemn you. If the king finds out you're in his castle, then you won't be the last living Striga anymore."

The words were sour, bitter, and twisted in Roche's mouth. She fought the urge to take them back as Circe's beady eyes glowed with malice.

"You dare to threaten me?"

"Don't pretend that you didn't have it coming," Roche spat, "If I'm the Ala, then you will trust me to get Tigris to her destiny however I choose. Do not force my hand."

Circe's gaze was murderous. "You are playing god, Ala. Do not presume you know better than what destiny demands. Heed me."

Roche lifted her hand an inch higher, and the Striga instantly shut up. The silence was blissful. Roche's breath was coming out in hissed bursts, adrenaline making the world too sharp.

"I will heed your warnings if I believe them to be true," Roche said quietly, "Until then... you will leave me alone. I can't listen to you any longer."

The Striga's eyes smoldered. "You'll need my help. You have needed me since you arrived in the city. Do not turn away from me, Ala." they transmitted softly.

Was this how Circe saw her? As some pliable girl with too much inkblood for her own good?

Did they think her to be a fool?

Her blood simmered at the thought.

"I managed just fine before I met you," Roche said coldly, "And now I'll manage fine without you. Now, let me leave or I'll blast through your walls again."

Circe's feathers flattened back and Roche readied herself to form a shield of inkblood if needed. But Circe simply raised their wings and flapped hard. Roche went blowing through the tunnels, flying so quickly that she shot through the exit and slammed into a bookshelf. The tunnel clicked shut behind her. Roche laid on the ground, trying to catch her breath.

"Stupid bird and their stupid sense of humour." she hacked out, climbing to her feet. Footsteps echoed through the shelves.

"Roche?" Verita called, holding up a candle. The librarian looks small, swathed in several layers of robes that covered every inch of wrinkled skin. Roche climbed to her feet.

"You should have stayed in your chambers, it's too cold for you to be out," Roche chided gently as she scrambled towards the old librarian. Verita scowled at her,

"Don't treat me like some hankering old woman," she snapped, swatting Roche's head, "What on earth are you doing here? I thought you forgot something for Tigris."

Roche chewed her lip, her mind blanking when she looked for an excuse. "I did. I just got back and I... got lost?" she tried.

Verita pinned her with an unamused look. "You've been hiding something from me. You've never done that before." she grumbled. When Roche started to protest she tutted, "Don't try lying to me again. Are you going to tell me the truth, or are you going to risk your life without some help?"

Busted.

Roche ran a hand through her hair. She could come up with some lies, but honestly, she needed some guidance. She couldn't tell Verita about Circe, but with Tigris' tests... she needed help.

Roche sighed. "Okay. I'll tell you everything."

-------

Verita, for the most part, was an excellent listener. She steepled her fingers, pressing them together until her flesh blanched white. Roche finished her story, leaving out her conversation with Circe. Silence bloomed in their chambers, loud and poignant. Verita sucked in a deep breath.

"I don't think I need to tell you how foolish you've been," Verita said after a moment.

Roche felt a flare of irritation. First Circe, now Verita. What was it with everyone telling her she'd made a mistake with Orpheus?

"I've done nothing wrong," Roche insisted, her hands clenching in her lap. Verita raised a hawkish brow.

"Really?" the librarian asked dryly, "Does harbouring an inkblood not ring a bell?"

"Like you?" Roche challenged before she could bite her tongue. She ran a hand through her hair with a stab of guilt when Verita flinched at the words.

"The difference is that your inkblood is not public information," Verita explained carefully, not meeting Roche's eyes, "The scribe's being hunted in every corner of the city. He was nearly caught today. Surely you can see why this is so dangerous."

Roche slumped back. "I know," she admitted quietly, "But I couldn't stand to see another pyre being built. He called out to me and I couldn't help but imagine what he would sound like if he..." Roche swallowed, her throat closing up. Verita's face softened. The librarian reached across the table, laying her hand over Roche's.

"I know it's not easy," Verita murmured consolingly, "I understand why you did this. But you must understand that you have a destiny to fulfil. You can't do that if you're rotting away in a cell."

Roche couldn't stop her scowl. "So just because I'm the Ala, my life is worth more than everyone being burnt alive?" she hissed furiously. Verita winced.

"No, but it means you need to be careful. Getting yourself burned won't help anyone." Verita admonished, "You must be careful who you try to save. And rightfully so. Look at the position you're in now."

Roche crossed her arms. "It's only because of Orpheus that Tigris was able to find Tarak and get the chance to complete the tests."

Verita leaned forward, intrigued. "Did Tarak tell you anything about the nature of these tests?"

"No," Roche replied, curiosity stirring within her at Verita's thoughtful expression, "Do you know anything about them?"

"Perhaps," Verita stood with a magnanimous pop of her knees and shuffled across the room. She rifled through the stacked books on the table, "There are a few fairy tales from the time before the inkblood ban. I can't say if they're true, but myth is the best place to hide inkblood related stories, I suppose."

"What do they say?" Roche asked, abandoning her dinner to join Verita's side. They peered at the picture book together, flipping through the preserved pages. Carefully inked illustrations curled across the thin paper.

"Not much can be separated from fiction," Verita warned, squinting at the text, "But the tests will evaluate Tigris' weaknesses, especially those that bid her to attack the omphalos. Only when she has proved to have learned from her mistake will the curse be lifted."

Verita snapped the book shut, glancing at Roche with concern. "You'd do best to stay at the princess' side at all times. She'll need a voice of reason with her if she is to pass."

"I'll stay with her," Roche promised, grinning to dispel some of the worry on her guardian's face, "I'm always at her side."

For some reason, that didn't seem to reassure the elderly librarian. Verita told Roche to continue eating and decided to finish up some work. She was still awake when Roche retired to her chambers, trying to stifle the choking dread that was rising in her chest.

A/N: Guys, the read count on this book sudden went up to 200 and I am GOBSMACKED. Thank you so much. I'll be honest, this story is not the best quality rn, so I appreciate the fact that anyone is willing to slog through this mess to read about Roche and Tigris :) thank you everyone for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story!

As always, happy reading!