Blackfeather Woods my legs refused to walk away

the wood churned with the shift in maegi's tones; relmyna steadied herself on the edge of the young priestess' voice. for this moment, all things were good — her blood beat more warmly. it was not a good thing, the edge to the melonii's words, nor the rot that grew in the listener, but to be with one another now, here, beneath the knowing eyes of the ravens she had sought
it was good
for a year, i was cicero's thrall. i tested his poisons. i was not awake. months of horrid migraines had been all relmyna gleaned when she had attempted to know the why of her lost year. and now it mattered not. maegi, she murmured noiselessly after a moment, brow furrowing. you were with me when astara and averna were born. we drove
iliksis. demon. ache.
an outsider from the den, kove and i.  and after that, i collapsed. i shook. i was not myself. 
she had no word for the violent seizings that sometimes went on for an unendurable amount of time, locked within the recesses of her own shrieking mind. i have kept them quiet since, these times when i can do nothing except shake and tremble. but they have happened since before the children were born. and they have worsened now.
a swallow; she moved her gaze slowly back to the blackfeathered boughs of silent, watching eyes. relmyna drew a harsh breath, and her attention was maegi's once more, a sad smile tugging at her scarred lips. the gods gave me a year and two daughters. i want only to devote the remainder of my life to them. and i want you to follow me, as listener.
was it a choice? was it a demand? her seafoam eyes lingered on the girl, tracing the beauty still fiercely existent beneath the scars. and then a flurry of blinking as tears sprang unbidden to their corners.
who hurt you? 
she could not keep from asking.