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The tent was teeming with wounded soldiers and mages, including the Prince of Eloewan. His armor and most of his clothing was tossed aside, all red with blood. Hovering over him, hands glowing with bronze magic, was a girl around his age. Maeva worked on his sword wounds, brows heavy with concentration and sweat. One was especially deep, given to him while he was protecting her. She felt nervous while carefully reconnecting all of his organs and tissues back together. Finally, she finished. Maeva leant back against her chair, breathing heavily, feeling utterly drained. Not only had she thrown her fair share of magic in battle, but she had to heal Prince Link's wounds. Well, she didn't have to but Link meant everything to her and she was determined to heal his wounds. His eyes fluttered open, focusing on her. He opened his mouth to speak but she jabbed a shaking finger at him.
"No, don't you dare speak to me! You know I hate it when you take risks like this for me, especially since you're the Crown Prince! You have had one too many close calls and this was one of the closest, barring the Nizlene Incident." Maeva glared at him as the memory resurfaced. She had been framed for stealing the High Priestess' Staff of the Underworld from Nizlene's Temple. Despite her pleading her innocence, she had been dragged from the Castle to the Temple when the Staff was discovered in her room. The guards had thrown her onto the steps in front of the Temple and told her to climb on her hands and knees into it. She had crawled to the large statue of Nizlene, hands and knees burning. The guards had backed away to the crowd gathering, letting the priests and priestesses come forward.
Maeva knew she was screwed. Stealing the Staff was punishable by death as it could cause death with a flick of the wrist. She looked into the faces of the clergy and saw her death written there.
That was when Prince Link came bounding in, shoving people aside in his haste to get to her side. There was much yelling but he stepped forward and drew her up into his arms. He spoke on her behalf, demanding that the priests listen. They refused; he was obviously under her spell. Finally Link snapped. His face turned red as he screamed at them to listen. His protests fell on deaf ears. Link gently placed Maeva to the side and got down onto his knees. He raised his hands to the grave statue in supplication, mouth stubbornly set . Link started chanting to Nizlene, imploring Her to come to him, to inhabit his very body to tell Her followers the truth.
Many moments passed and it seemed like nothing would happen. Suddenly, his body began glowing with a sickly grey light and his body jerked around like a macabre puppet. Maeva's heart was in her throat, knowing that people who are possessed by the Gods did not always live.
Tears poured down Maeva's face in the tent, cutting through the blood and grime on her face. She wished he wouldn't do things like this for her. She hated seeing the pity in his eyes because of her orphan status. The anger in the King's and Queen's eyes when he threw himself headlong into danger for her. Link reached out to her and took her hand.
"I'm sorry, Maeva. I know you hate it." He shifted around to sit up and extended his arms out to her. "Please come here." Maeva carefully hugged him, tears falling onto his bare shoulder. He slipped his strong arms around her, burying his face in her coppery red hair. He let her cry for a short while but couldn't keep his secret quiet anymore. "Do you know why I do it?" She lifted her head from his shoulder.
"I always thought you felt obligated to help me. Poor little orphan girl with no one to protect her." Maeva sniffled and wiped her eyes as he shook his head. "Then, why?" He reached up and gently touched her bloody cheek.
"Because I love you."