 
Published in the United Kingdom by:

D M Owens

Content copyright © D M Owens

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted at any time or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior, written permission of the publisher.

The right of D M Owens to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

A CIP record of this book is available from the British Library.

Frist printed May 2016.

Layout and design by Rebecca Owens.

ISBN 978-1-78280-8336
To Mum,

For always being there. Your unwavering strength has been my inspiration in all walks of life, without you Passage would never have been created and I would not be the person I am today.

I am endlessly grateful, forever loving and always proud to be your daughter.

Passage
Part 1: Debdran

The Beginning

There is an old saying in the kingdom of Debdran, you are that of which you are born. In the cities, the saying had been twisted as their hearts turned as grey as the walls they built, a person's character was defined not by their own actions, but by that of those who had sired them. Out in the rural areas, where people still held sway to the traditions of those that had come before them; the saying had an entirely different meaning. It was in one of the southern hamlet villages, Renfall, that a wail cracked through the night air. The noise was barely discernible against the storm that raged around the small wooden house the inhabitants called home. It was deep into the summer, the air was both hot and muggy. Within the small house a young woman with dark curls cut straight at her chin, afforded only a moment's notice at the raging wind battering at the windows. The wind was fierce and hot, the polar opposite of the rain which lashed from the skies, Vita's dress was still sodden through from the journey here in the storm. Shivering from not only the cold water seeping into her skin but also from the pain she bore as her twin sister Sana screamed, pushing the child she had carried for nine moons out of her body. Vita put all of her concentration into not crying out, instead ensuring this child was brought safely into the world. For although Sana had been Vita's life for many years, unused to sharing any part of her with another, this babe she welcomed with open arms; for this babe she would give up their past and look instead to their future. As the storm reached its peak, the wind blowing so hard a window cracked in the outer room, the aggressive rain beating a steady rhythm on the roof, Sana let out her final scream and a tiny baby girl fell into Vita's shaking hands. It took a moment, but finally another wail joined in with the storm, this a cry of life.

"Welcome to the world our little tempest. We have been eager to meet you." Vita whispered softly, looking at Sana with tears in her blue eyes. "You did it sister, here is your little girl." Sana held out her weakened arms, a glow of joy in her eyes and smile.

"Welcome daughter, you are of the storm, and for this I shall name you Aesa." The storm raged on, but the three of them felt safe and content in their circle of joy; knowing nothing of neither the true nature of the future, nor the accuracy of Aesa's naming.

Chapter 1

Vita's hands visibly shook when she finally reached her home, a small cabin nestled into the foot of the Bewychwood Forest. Whilst she was within easy distance of her villagers, once within the wooden walls of her small and modest home, she felt at peace, away from the world and all of its problems. The huge, thick trunked trees felt safe, like she was nestled into her mother's arms. Settling herself down at her oak table top, Vita took a cup filled with warm water and calming Thail leaves, allowing the heat to spread through her fingers and up her arms, soothing her nerves. Despite her prowess as a Healer, there was little she could do for the thoughts rushing through her head. The truth of the matter was that Vita was afraid and it was not an emotion she was accustomed to.

"Bloody burn it!" She exclaimed to herself. Sana had never approved of her twin's choice of wording, but it had never bothered Vita before and she was not about to start fretting over it now. She had apprenticed to Healer Lania for six summers before the aged Healer's death two summers ago. She had seen countless births, from the easy to the deadly. And she had seen the glow of happiness surround many women as they looked upon their babe's for the first time. But never had she witnessed what she had seen this evening, for the glow had emanated from Sana's skin. It was barely noticeable; could even be marked down to the hot weather or the pain of childbirth. But Vita had known it was not a natural thing, and she had seen Sana's husband, Adrian's, eyes glance slightly to Sana's pale arms before focusing his attention on Aesa. It had been magic. Before Adrian had even had a chance to take the babe in his own arms, she had instructed him that both must stay in bed for at least four more nights. She would return then, for first she must make the trip to her treasure trove of herbs, nestled in the Healers Hand within the mountains on the far side of the forest. There, she had found a wealth of plants and herbs three summers before and had begun using them in her poultices. At the start of every spring and in the middle of summer she would return to stockpile; but the crops grew weak closer to autumn so she must leave soon. When she returned she would see if the glow had disappeared. If so, she could forget all about it, put it down to the stress of the birth. Though even that was an understatement. For despite all of her experience, Vita had never before attended a birth where she felt as though she were going through the ordeal. A shiver ran through her and a single tear shed itself from her eyes. Vita would never know the feeling of childbirth naturally, only through the mystical bond she held with her sister. A sacred secret they had never told anyone except their mother, who had long since passed. Staring down at her lifeless legs, Vita allowed a tiny trickle of pity for herself and her future, before shutting the pain away and grabbing her canes. If she were not going to get any sleep then she may as well make her evening useful in her herb room.

Chapter 2

Sana blew one of the curls out of her face, her unruly hair had a mind of its own, and today its mind was to get in her way. She smiled at Aesa, who was helping her bake by bringing ingredients from the pantry. The small hands she had inherited from her mother were useful for fishing things out of the jars, but the small fingers clumsy. At that moment Aesa wiped a curl of rebellious hair out of her bright blue eyes and a bark of laughter escaped Sana's lips at how similar they were. Their house was modest, and that was how she liked it, though with four rooms it was still bigger than many. The wood had been cut from the forest she loved and the very smell of it was home, with beams high enough to fit even Adrian's tall frame in. Her husband was long gone to work, as the Village Vendor it was his job to be up at the crack of dawn and ready for the day ahead. A Vendor was a very important role in the village, only coming below the Speaker in significance. His day to day job was the running of Renfall, organising market days with other villages, communicating with Messengers and any dignitaries or visitors. Renfall was a village mostly forgotten by the rest of the country, only the neighbouring villages and towns had anything to do with them. Some, such as Sana herself, saw their solitude as a blessing, it meant no tax demands from the royal family, no interference in how things were run in Renfall. However, not everybody shared her views, the demands to get involved in trade with the distant places of Debdran were growing; Adrian himself was determined to turn around the image of the back country village to that of a prosperous one. Sana's mother had been a member of the Merchant's Guild in Jacoby, meeting Sana's father in Renfall when travelling with a merchant wagon. Vita and Sana had been raised to read and write, an unusual skill in these parts. When they had begun courting, Sana had patiently taught Adrian the use of letters, and now she taught all the children of the village who were willing. It infuriated her that so many adults did not want their children learning. All she wanted was to offer them a better chance, with the basic skills they could remain in Renfall or follow their dreams to bigger and more adventurous places. Since Adrian took on the role of Vendor four summers before, the most exciting visitor they had had was a Speaker from a neighbouring village and some Tinkers who brought with them a travelling circus. The role came with its benefits, Adrian's involvement with the market days meant that he often browsed their wares before the rest of Renfall. Aesa's doll, Magda, went everywhere with her and was one such perk. Sana was becoming accustomed to the position of Vendors wife, it brought her respect amongst the other women of the village. Being distant from the rest of Debdran, meant Renfall had never had a need for money. Many villagers simply traded wares, however this was changing with Adrian's role. Wealth now had a place in Renfall. Only the evening before, Adrian had opened the door in a flourish, his eyes alight with excitement. The Messenger Guild had heard of his works to establish Renfall as a town, a centre of commerce for the southern regions of the country and they were taking word to the Merchant Guild in Jacoby itself. Aesa's smiling face looked up over Magda, her button nose sprinkled with white flour giving the appearance of white freckles. Swooping her little girl up in her arms she hugged her close, burying her face in the dark hair which framed Aesa's beautiful heart shaped face.

"Do you want to take some of the sweet bread we made to Aunt Vita?" She asked.

"Yes please Mama! Can I stay there? I like helping Aunt Vita work." Aesa asked pleadingly. Sana doubted Aesa's little hands were much good at helping, not to mention how clumsy she was, but she knew her sister enjoyed the company, so she consented.

"Are you going to be a Healer one day?" Her daughter nodded enthusiastically. "How about I come collect you after supper? I'm sure Aunt Vita would like you to stay to help her eat her sweet bread." It was Vita's favourite, for anyone else Vita would politely avoid offering the sugary snack, but for her niece she shared everything.

"Thanks Mama!" Grabbing the basket Aesa ran for the door before quickly rushing back and kissing Sana on the cheek. Sana had never known she could be so happy. Everything was absolutely perfect.

Aesa kept a tight grip on the basket of sweet bread. Despite her young age, she knew she would one day apprentice to her Aunt, it was all she had ever wanted. Aunt Vita always gave her things to learn and memorise, but there was a game Aesa had invented to help with her studies. The village was a network of dirt streets, the wooden houses erected haphazardly as the village had grown. Any villager could make their way from one end to the other, but Aesa explored her abilities, determined to know the quickest routes to all houses. There were many alley ways which were used for little other than hanging out ones washing and wood piles, but she knew them all and would use them in her studies, testing her knowledge of how to travel Renfall in the quickest time. Aunt Vita's house was out of the village, but although Aesa was only small she could get there quicker than most of the adults. Down the side of their house was an alley with a bench Pa had made, she set off at a fast walk down the alley then onto one of the main streets of Renfall, if she carried on she could be at the Village Square in minutes, but instead she turned right at Mikel's house. Mikel had so many children he had had to build a rickety second floor to his house, every time she saw his wife Mindi she seemed about ready to pop with another babe. Outside the front door, eight children of varying age laughed, cried and argued, Mindi appeared, yelling, with another belly full of baby, Aesa kept her head down and hurried past. She followed the thin alley as it wound around the shabby house and meandered past other dwellings and in half the time it would have taken with the conventional route, Aesa arrived in the Village Square. The weather was dry today but Renfall was prone to rain, turning the square into a muddy hole where feet quickly became stuck in the sludge. Long before Aesa's time the villagers had erected a wooden walkway to surround the square in defiance of the extreme weather they had all year round. At the centre was a raised plinth were announcements were made, a stone pole with the laws of the village carved into its body. Along each of the walkways, there were a variety of shops. Whilst Aesa did not remember, her Pa had told her that only two summers before there had been no shops, just temporary stalls people bartered on, like a constant market day. She loved market day and had told him so, but he claimed the way in which Renfall traded was barbaric and it was time to evolve. Many of the buildings here stood two stories tall, similar to Mikel's, but unlike his shabby exterior these were built from the wealth Renfall was now seeing. One stood apart from the others, made of stone rather than wood, the village centre was where her Pa worked with the Speaker. She crossed the square, kicking up dust as she trotted the bottom of her dark green skirt quickly covered in the dirt as she rushed through the village. She reached the other side and stepped up to the small gate which was the exit leading to Aunt Vita's house. A wooden fence surrounded the whole village, it was the same height as her and she had always wondered what the purpose was as it could never keep anyone out. Voicing her opinion to her Pa had been met with a bark of laughter, "who would we want to keep out?" he had said. Well she was only little so how was she to know she had wanted to retort, but kept her mouth closed and pondered the question to herself.

Soon enough Aesa was out of the village and making her way down the dirt track to Aunt Vita's home. The path ran parallel to the Bewychwood Forest, Aunt Vita often joked that it was to keep people away unless they really did need her aid. Many folk were afraid of the forest. She peeked into its dark mass as she walked, the trees so thick and the canopy so full that the sunlight barely reached the ground, giving an eerie feel, like all that stared back out at you was the darkness itself. But she knew it was a haven, not something to be feared, so skipped on blissfully.

Vita poured Aesa a hot milk, years of practice meant she was able to lean all of her weight onto one cane whilst she used her free arm to pass the cup to her niece before moving to sit with her. Her arms were thick in the top with muscle; some would say it was unladylike but she cared little, the point was that she was able to move at all. Vita pulled her brown shawl higher up on her shoulders for warmth, the end dropping into the bowl she had at the table. Scowling she muttered angrily to herself, wiping the tomato juice from the ends.

"Aunt Vita!"

"What?"

"That's a naughty word, Mama told me so."

"Honestly, is it not enough that your bloody Ma tells me off when she is here, now she has you trained to watch me when she's not! It's a bloody miracle I'm still sane." Aesa was giggling which brought a smile to Vita's glower. "Have you been practising child?"

"Yes."

"Let's see then, what is this plant?"

"Hedbane, for pain."

"Very good Aesa! But what are the risks?" Aesa pulled her lower lip through her teeth in concentration, it was a trait she had picked up from her mother. Although she was barely seven summers old, her intelligence and tenacity were remarkable.

"People can want it all the time, they can't live without it."

"Exactly darling. It is called an addiction, some people will come to us as Healers, asking us to heal them of their addictions, but there is little we can do, so when using Hedbane be sure to..."

"Small doses Aunt Vita, watered down and strained through a cloth for little hurts." Vita never ceased to be surprised at Aesa's ability. She would be a great Healer one day. Despite the mature answers she gave, her small hands could barely hold the mug. Her fingertips were still covered in the different coloured paints they had used earlier that day, sitting together with a canvas and dipping their fingers in the paint tinctures Vita would make from different plants. The pictures were the only real decoration Vita had in her home, she had always been content with the view from her windows of the stunning forest she loved, but the pictures were her way of keeping Aesa with her in spirit. Throughout Vita's life she had always believed that all she ever needed was Sana; but with Aesa's birth came an understanding that there was so much more. At that moment, Aesa reached for her milk, instead knocking the mug over, Vita let out a loud laugh.

"What are we going to do with you child?" she exclaimed fondly.

Sana vigorously scrubbed at Adrian's best tunic, desperately trying to get the stains from the cloth. Her hands were raw from the soapy water and her hair stuck to her head with sweat despite it being the opening of winter; washing clothes always proved to be a hot and bothersome task.

"Has it come out yet?" Adrian asked from his place on the armchair. She bit back a remark about him giving it a go rather than pestering her every couple of breaths. It looked as though Aesa had gotten her paint covered hands on the white cloth when she had come back from Vita's house.

"No dear, I'll get it out don't worry."

"You better had! I need to look my best tomorrow and market day isn't for three nights. I won't be able to replace it before then." Of course, she knew this. She actually listened to what her husband told her, pity this was not a mutual thing. Adrian had invited the Speaker of Brickton to Renfall to witness the growth of the village. Brickton was a rich town to the North which had made its wealth by tapping into the merchant train system, using the river which ran directly through the town and continued its path across the country. From what Adrian had explained, they had set up barges which travelled the length of the river, bringing wares from the north and west. They were able to carry many luxury items including spices, silk and even timber. He was trying to open up this network for their village; Adrian was nothing if not ambitious. Rather than answering she continued with her work, satisfied to see the paint finally crumbling away.

"You will make an effort tomorrow won't you? Brush your hair at least." His remark stung. Her hair had always been unruly, black curls which did what they wanted and there was really nothing she could do about it. Once he had loved her hair, he would tuck the runaway strands behind her ear with a smile and kiss her cheek. At her silence he came to her and kissed her. "I'm just nervous, love."

"I know. It'll be fine, you'll see." She smiled.

Chapter 3

Aesa held onto Sana's hand tightly, it was Winterfest and the whole village was making their way to the Village Square for the festivities and to welcome the changing season. Adrian had been on edge all day, it was the biggest festival the village held, they prayed to the Watchers that they would have a good winter, laying offerings down which mainly consisted of grains, wine and flowers. If the Watchers were pleased with the offerings, winter would pass swiftly with no deaths and little illness. However, if they were left wanting, they would bring harsh weather and death. The Village Square had been transformed for the evening, the wooden walkways were decorated with wreaths made from the orange and brown fallen leaves from their neighbouring forest. Tradition saw that each woman made a wreath with her daughters, and as they walked by Aesa excitedly pointed out theirs. People milled around on the walkways, all the stores were open for the evening with free food and drink made by all the villagers. In the centre of the square was a space where many of the younger generation were dancing to the sound of Bill and Gert playing the violas, both woodcutters by trade, their large hands were surprisingly nimble on the strings. Flushed faces surrounded them, not only because of the potent drinks on offer but also the vigorous dancing to the music. Aesa watched the other children warily, she was a private child who had always preferred the company of her mother and Aunt than any of the children in the village. Sana had encouraged her to venture out, but as she had always had Vita there had never been a need or a want to find other friends, as a result of her chosen isolation, she struggled to offer advice to her daughter.

"Aunt Vita!" Aesa cried out; Vita turned her head and grinned at the sight of them. They made their way to where Vita was quietly talking to Lian, the Baker's wife.

"Good evening Sana, are you looking forward to the festivities?"

"I can't wait, it's all Adrian has spoken about for months, if I'm honest I'll be glad to see the last of it!" Lian laughed as she bid them a good evening and a healthy winter.

"Looks like the whole village is out tonight." Vita commented taking a big swig of spiced mead.

"I'd watch how quickly you drink that otherwise you'll be crawling home!" Sana warned. She still remembered the Summer Solstice a couple of years before Aesa was born when her twin had gotten too merry on mead, got fed up of falling on her canes and proceeded to try crawling home. It had taken years for her to live that down. Vita scowled at the memory now.

"I'd have been fine if Peta hadn't found me and told Mother!" Sana let out a heartfelt laugh at her twin's exclamation.

"Mother's face! All I know is after that I swore to the Watchers themselves never to touch the stuff."

"Well sister, not all of us are as virtuous as you. I happen to like spiced mead, and it'll take more than one bad memory to put me off!"

"Can I try some Aunt Vita?" Aesa asked innocently.

"Why not?" Vita passed the drink to her young niece who took three large gulps.

"Vita!" Sana exclaimed reaching to take the drink from her daughter. "She's seven!"

"Never too young to try new things I always say." Vita said, ruffling Aesa's hair, who stood grinning from ear to ear. "Besides, if that much mead makes her more than a little chatty I'll be sure she's not related to me." Sana shot her sister her best scowl and pulled her daughter back up to her feet.

"How are you feeling little one?"

"I'm ok Mama." Came the reply, but Aesa's bright blue eyes were looking slightly dazed and she had a crooked grin.

"Ah. Sana there you are." Adrian called. Adrian had always been a tall man, one to stand out in a crowd, but as she looked over at her husband it was the man beside him that caught her attention. He was neither attractive nor ugly, but his stature and the expensive clothing he wore highlighted him as an outsider. The outfit no doubt cost him enough money to feed a family for a month. At his narrow hip hung a sword, surely worn for decoration rather than combat. She made her way over to her husband as he beckoned her closer. She had heeded Adrian's instructions and wore her best dress, even trying to tame her hair. Eventually she had conceded pulling it together in a leather tie.

"Mattius, this is my wife Sana."

"It's lovely to meet you sir." Sana smiled warmly, dipping her head slightly in recognition.

"And you." Mattius responded, although she could hear the derision in his voice. As he ran his eyes up and down her it took all of her self control not to squirm away from his glare.

"Mama!" Aesa cried, running toward her, looking a slightly paler shade than usual.

"Let's go sit down darling." She took her daughters hand and turned her away quickly, but not fast enough. With a single cough, her little girl brought the spiced mead alongside her dinner back up, all over Mattius' shoes. "Oh my. I am so sorry sir. She is a little over excited." Adrian was flabbergasted, but Mattius looked ready to strike out. "I shall get a rag." She scooped Aesa up in her arms and practically ran to her sister. Lian had seen what had happened and rushed over to Mattius with a rag and some water.

"Vita. It is not funny." She growled, shame and anger pulsing through her veins. Her sister stifled a laugh, covering her face with her mead and ignoring Sana's warning tone.

"Pompous ass had it coming no doubt!" Vita muttered into her mug.

"That is the Speaker of Brickton, Adrian is going to kill me."

"Have you reason to fear your husband?" Vita asked, concern over taking the mirth in her voice.

"Of course not." But she knew how much this evening had meant to him, and by the furious glare he had just shot her, she may have more cause to be afraid than she ever thought possible.

"Mama, did I ruin Pa's evening? That man was important wasn't he?" Aesa asked her later than evening. She was in her bed covered in blankets and, as was common when feeling unwell, had asked Sana to stay with her whilst she fell asleep.

"It's alright darling, you were poorly that's all."

"Will he be mad at me?"

"No. How could anyone ever be mad at you little one?"

"Do you promise?"

"Yes." Aesa smiled at that and closed her eyes, finally ready to sleep. It didn't take long for her breathing to change into one of a deep slumber. Sana closed the door as quietly as possible and made her way to her bedroom, Adrian still had not returned from the inn, no doubt drinking away the embarrassing memory, perhaps by the time he returned the sting of his anger will have dissipated, he may even see the humour in the scenario. A deep sigh escaped her lips, she could hope at least.

"Did you and Vita have a good laugh?" He asked suddenly, his voice heavy with alcohol, his sudden appearance startling her as she shot around to face him.

"Adrian, you know we didn't. I am so sorry."

"Sorry? I have been working on this for over six moons Sana! You know what today meant for me, for us! This village could have been a centre of trade, instead we will remain nothing more than a mark on the map, another village full of country idiots who can barely write their own names." He barely raised his voice, but the venom dripping from every word sent a spike of fear to her heart. She had only ever tried to please him, the man she had longed to marry all those years ago. Never had she had cause to make him mad before. But he was mad now.

"Please."

"Shut up. Just shut up woman."

"But..." He took one step toward her, fist raised in anger.

"One more word and I swear to the Watchers I will do it." He spat and Sana recoiled from his wrath. She felt herself hit the bed and fall back, letting out a small cry in shock. That was all it took. That tiny outburst of breath. She would look back at that moment for years to come and wonder, if she had just kept that breath in, would he have done it? Would it have led to the hatred he felt looking at her? But in that moment, the only thought she had was fear as his fist met her fragile body over and over again.
Chapter 4

Vita ground some petals in a pestle and mortar, winter was well and truly underway and it was a cruel and harsh year. Sickness was rife in the village and her skills were in demand. In a few more years Aesa could apprentice with her, but until that day it fell to Vita's adept hands alone to care for the villagers. Her Mistress, Lania, when teaching Vita all that she knew, had always cautioned Vita to never become complacent. Always keep as many poultices as she could make stored. You never knew when sickness would sweep through the village. It would seem the Watchers were displeased with the offerings this year as Vita was busier than she had been in a long time. It was at times like this, when people were threatened with death over what started as a common cold that Vita began to question the Watchers. Could any being idly sit by and watch people suffer? All because they didn't enjoy the bloody wine they received? Having barely had a chance to see her sister or niece since Winterfest, Vita planned on making her way into the village. She would check on Mikel's children whilst there, all of them were suffering in the harsh winter. Each of the children were unique, but Vita couldn't help but think Mikel and Mindi really needed to stop having children or they would be sleeping outside soon enough. She gave many women in the village the ability to stop conceiving, but Mindi would not indulge such an idea. Vita's medicine room was small; shelves adorned each wall with bottles and jars of varying colour, filling every nook and cranny. Many of the items were within reach of her chair and, without the use of her legs, this made her life easier. The system would change with the varying seasons, herbs best suited to winter ailments being pushed to the back in the summer and vice versa. Whenever Sana looked at it she would shake her head and exclaim that she was shocked Vita ever got her medicines to work with the mess she made them in. Vita tried not to be affronted by the remarks, they may not be labelled, but she knew every jar by sight, touch and smell. Slinging her bag over her shoulder she took up her canes and eased herself out of the chair. No time like the present to make the journey to town. Thinking of her family only made her miss them more. Vita had always been the cynical twin, unable to match Sana's positive outlook on life, but her cynicism had taken a turn for the worse since the last moon, it felt as though there were a great weight hanging over her, just waiting to drop. Shaking it off as simply being grumpy, she made her way to Sana's house.

Aesa jumped out of her chair, she barely noticed the porridge now flying over the table. Sana dried her hands on her skirt before grabbing a cloth to clean up. Living with a child as clumsy as Aesa meant she was accustomed to spillages.

"Mama, Aunt Vita's here, Mama!"

"Yes thank you Aesa, I can see that. Now come here, let me clean your hands." Vita chuckled as she plonked herself down in her chair. She could see Aesa's little legs swinging back and forth, itching to run to her Aunt.

"I've missed you too child." She told Aesa.

"Mama has not been well enough to come."

"Aesa." Sana reprimanded, but not before Vita shot a look at her. She could see Vita's eyes widening as she noticed the yellowish mark on her cheek. "Vita. It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Her twin hissed. Sana nodded at her daughter, signalling for Vita to keep her thoughts to herself, at least for the moment. "I need some fresh air, Sana will you help me outside?" Sana knew nothing she could say would stop her sister from talking to her immediately.

"Aesa, stay here in the warmth." Her daughter nodded smiling. Despite what Adrian was becoming, he had brought her this precious child and that in itself demanded her love and loyalty. They made their way outside, walking to the side of the house where years before Adrian had built a small bench of branches strapped together with strips of bark. Vita touched her cheek tenderly, the anger gone from her eyes, replaced with the love and affection she had always bore her sister.

"It happened at Winterfest, since then, well... Adrian and I have not been getting on so well."

"Winterfest? Oh my, Sana I never thought."

"I know, do not fear, there is nothing you could have done. The blame is not with you. The Adrian we knew ten years ago would have laughed with you, not anymore. Vita, I am afraid of him." She whispered, ashamed to even let the words escape her lips; as though in speaking them out loud it brought the thought to life. She looked off to the right, away from her sister. At the end of the alley a few villagers wandered past, one little boy being tugged along by his mother looked toward Sana, he met her eyes and his head cocked to the side as though imitating an owl. She couldn't help laughing through her tears.

"What are you bloody laughing at, at a time like this?"

"That little boy thought I was talking to myself. I must look mad, they couldn't see you." Vita scowled at her, and Sana had to hand it to her sister, scowling was definitely her thing.

"I am truly sorry for what is happening to you. You and Aesa will always be welcome with me."

"I know, but Vita he is my husband. I have to hope there is enough of him left in there that one day he will find his way back to me. I love him."

"I can't pretend to understand your rationale behind that decision, but I understand love." As Vita spoke she took Sana's hand in hers, and Sana could feel the warmth in her sister's fingertips. The feeling brought strength and hope when she needed it most.

Adrian walked briskly back home, his hands curled into fists. The Messenger had finally brought him news from Mattius. The message had been blunt and to the point, Renfall would remain a hamlet, set apart from the growing trade throughout the rest of the country. After everything he had done, all his hard work, turned to ashes because his wife couldn't control their child. That was all she had to do, he did all of the hard work, she raised the child. How could that be so hard? He could feel his heart thumping with anger, his fist quivered with pent up frustration. He walked past the alley by his house and took an automatic glimpse to the right where he saw a strange sight. A small fire had started on the wood pile he had collected from the woodchoppers not two days before. And there was his wife, staring at the flames uselessly. Allowing his hard work to go to ruins! Red hot fury pulsed through his entire being, he took a step forward ready to teach her a lesson no matter who may see when he saw the flame flicker in an unnatural way. The sight made him stop dead in his tracks. Sana continued to stare into it, as though she were speaking to the flame, her gaze fierce, it died down slowly, eventually leaving nothing to claim it had been there at all. But he had seen it and in that moment he knew he had seen magic.

Chapter 5

Aesa jolted awake with a cry of terror. The window above her bed was dark, heavy clouds covering the moons rays. She could see that despite the late hour, flickering waivers of light were visible. It was as though someone had lit torches to guide their way. As she took a glimpse outside she saw not one or two torches but at least ten, she did not understand why but at the vision her terror heightened.

"WITCH!" The scream rose through the air and pierced Aesa's heart. Her limbs, frozen at the sight of the torches and the villagers carrying them, thawed and she was once again able to move. Her only thought was to get to Mama, she would protect her. They would protect each other. Her small legs moved faster than ever before as she rushed to her Mama's room. Her Mama, always strong and brave. But not today. On this day she found her Mama stepping from her room, tears pouring down her face and a look in her eyes which Aesa had never seen before. Aesa flung herself into the waiting arms and held tight, afraid if she loosened her grip her Mama would disappear forever.

"I am so sorry little one. It will be alright my darling." Her Mama cooed, but Aesa knew it would not be alright. Somehow she knew it would never be alright again. She cried even harder. The screams grew closer, with every outcry of "Witch!" she felt Sana break down once more. "I need you to do something for me Aesa, can you be a brave girl?" She nodded against her Mama's neck.

"Anything." She whispered.

"I need you to go to Aunt Vita's, tell her Mama will need passage. Don't be afraid, Aunt Vita will know what to do."

"I don't want to leave you." Aesa admitted.

"I know darling, I know. But you must. Out the window." Her Mama carried her, pulling open the window gently as though afraid it may make a sound. The front door banged open and Aesa's ears were filled with the cries of outrage from those gathered together. She clung even tighter to her Mama's neck, desperate to never let go. "Please Aesa, you must go." And she did. She turned and ran, never looking back. Not when she heard her father's angry growls, how he cursed the day he had ever met his filthy wife, nor when she heard her mother's scream of pain.

"AUNT VITA!" The voice was so familiar, yet filled with a panic which Vita had never had cause to hear from her niece before. A wave of nausea hit Vita as she scrambled to grab her bag, was Sana unwell? It took a moment or two for her brain to catch up with her body, she would know if something was wrong with Sana, she would feel it. Though her heart stilled she still felt panic settling over her. Something must be wrong with Adrian. Aesa came hurtling through the door so fast she tripped over her own feet and went flying. The look on her face was all Vita needed, something was terribly wrong. Her niece picked herself up, her breaths coming in short gasps as tears poured freely from her eyes.

"Passage Aunt Vita... For... Ma...Ma." She managed to gasp. That one tiny word and Vita felt her world crumbling around her. Not bothering to ask questions, she rushed and grabbed the bag of coins she kept hidden. She sent a silent prayer to the Watchers to pass on to her Mother, who had always cautioned them to be ready for this day. To save enough money for the cost of Passage. A shudder ran to her whole body thinking if she had never headed such advice. Helplessness and dismay filled her veins with ice but she moved with a determination and with speed, Aesa racing ahead urging her on. Her head was spinning with implications, for Aesa to be so desperate meant Adrian was not around to offer the Passage fee. Only a kin member could offer Passage for those accused of witchcraft. To be unable to pay or unwilling to meant the accused would be burnt at the stake. She wanted to scream in rage but kept her feelings to herself. All that mattered now was saving Sana's life. She had feared this day would come, since that stormy night seven years ago she had felt the cloud hanging over her. They were naive to think no one would ever know. Witchcraft was illegal in Debdran, had been for over three centuries. As with anything unknown, the term 'witch' had become one associated with evil. Knowing what superstition could cause otherwise mild natured people to do, she pushed all thoughts from her mind and focused on moving faster.

After what felt like an age, Vita and Aesa entered the village, their voices hoarse from screaming Passage. As they entered the Village Square her eyes were drawn immediately to the cage erected at the centre. Knelt in the mud, covered in her own blood, was Sana. Her fingers gripped the cage, making no attempt to leave but seemingly finding comfort in the feel of something beneath her grasp. It sent a wave of anger coursing through Vita's body and she let out a scream. Whomever had left her sister like that would one day pay. Vita vowed to the Watchers she would make it so.

"PASSAGE!" She screamed again, having to tear her eyes from Sana's to seek the Village Speaker. Alfen pushed his way from the crowd, hurrying toward her, a look of excitement upon his face. Vita felt her outrage pulse strong until she saw his was a smile of relief at her appearance. In that moment she had never felt more akin to another outside of her family. Alfen had wanted so desperately to stave off the hordes, give Sana a chance. She did not know what sort of a chance it would be, but it was bloody well better than staying here and being burnt at the stake. The Passage fee was used to buy a small boat and food supplies. Everyone knew the stories of how three hundred years ago the royal family had exiled all magical creatures. They had gone willingly though begrudgingly on the condition that any who wanted to could make the Passage. It was told that those witches who had left had set up a spell, so that any leaving Debdran from Passage Point would be pulled by magical means to the place the exiled had gone. Of course no one knew if it worked for none who left ever returned. But it was a risk most were willing to take.

"Who requests Passage and who grants it?" Alfen asked the customary questions, wasting no time. Never in Vita's lifetime had anyone in the village been accused of witchcraft, but everyone knew the ritual.

"I, Healer Vita, grant Passage to my sister and closest living relative, Sana." She replied.

"I, Alfen, Speaker of Renfall accept Passage on behalf of Sana." Though the twins had no close friends in the village, Sana was respected by all. Vita's quizzical eyes must have spoken for her, as just when she was about to ask after her sister's husband, Alfen glanced toward one corner of the square. Seeing the nearly completed pyre turned her stomach. Whilst she knew the terror toward this object was no longer necessary, at least for today, she could not help the heart clenching horror she felt at the pile of wood. But it was the man beside the pyre who really induced her fear, his brown, hate filled eyes bore into her very soul. He was building his own wife's funeral pyre. Never before had she felt such pulsing anger run through her body. In her mind she imagined the leather ties reaching out to him, wrapping around his wrists and pulling him into the fire, the flames engulfing him, burning him for his sins. Cynical she may be, but Vita had never held such vulgar thoughts, now they took over her mind, the temptation to see it done so great she could feel the power welling within her. What sort of a man was willing to watch his wife die no matter what she was accused of? Aesa reached up and wrapped one of her small hands into the folds of Vita's cloak, the touch brought her back to her senses, and her eyes looked once more upon her sister.

Sana had never known relief like she did as she saw her sister rush into the Village Square, her brown skirt spattered with mud from the run here. Beside her stood Aesa, panting with exhaustion, her bright eyes full of tears and terror. The look that she shared with her sister said it all. In Vita's eyes she could see the guilt and heartache. Her sister wanted more than anything to step forward and take her place, claim it was her witchcraft which someone had witnessed. But they both know why that could not happen. If Vita attempted to take Sana's place, they would simply throw them on the pyre side by side. To the villagers, Sana knew she was expendable. Vita was needed, if it were not for her unique and superior healing skills Sana had no doubt that Vita would have been dragged from her home in the same manner Sana had been. Vita knew it too, and it was tearing her up inside. Someone had to watch over Aesa, she was all that mattered. Alfen was accepting Vita's offer of Passage. Although Sana was about to embark upon a journey into the unknown, where possible dangers lay in wait, she knew that her chances of survival were better than if she remained. Looking to her child, she could see her little girl was petrified; half her body was hidden behind Vita whilst her torso and head were poking around watching everything with inquisitive eyes. Such beautiful blue eyes. Would she ever see them again after today? Wherever she was headed she would never forget that look. It was going to haunt her for the rest of her days. Suddenly a rough hand grabbed her arm dragging her from the cage. Her knees gave way as she saw a towering man looming above her, he could be none other than a Hunter; biceps bulging out of the leather tunic he wore on his heavily muscled frame. Wicked looking knives were sheathed to his upper arm. The whole image of him was designed to induce the accused with fear, and it worked. The dark green eyes staring down at her were filled with such hate she knew she had to be evil to deserve such a glare. Sinking within herself she let the tears flow. The Hunter pointed forward, signalling that it was time to leave. She had no need to ask her sister to join her, Vita would go as far as she could without leaving Aesa completely. So they set off together for their final journey. Sana wanted nothing more than to run to her child, but the Hunter was pulling her along roughly and Adrian now had a firm hand on their daughter. The rest of the villagers stood behind him, some crying with her, others cheering for her to leave. She looked around at the wooden buildings which had once been home. The inn where she had taken cover as a child when a storm had bought many of the houses in Renfall down. The bakery where you could get any kind of bread or cake made fresh for only a small fee. The only other person in the village whom she could call a friend lived above the bakery, she met Lian's eyes at that point and tried to give a small smile.

"MAMA!" Aesa screamed, she could not fully comprehend the magnitude of what was happening, but she could see in Aesa's eyes she knew her life would never be the same after this day. Suddenly Aesa was screeching at the top of her lungs, hitting, biting and kicking Adrian. Finally she escaped his clutches and ran right for her. Adrian was after her within a second of recovering from the blow but Aesa lunged into Sana's arms before he could restrain her. "Please don't go Mama. Please." She whispered desperately and Sana felt her heart shatter into pieces.

"I am sorry little one. I have to go. Aunt Vita will watch over you now."

"Please Mama." She pleaded again and again. Sana's world was crashing down all around her, in the centre of it all stood her beloved daughter; throat burning with tears, chest pounding with a broken heart, she would give anything to remain, to have just one more day cherishing her. But if she were to make that sacrifice, her little girl would watch her burn. "I'll be good Mama; I won't fall down so much."

"No my darling, you are my world, this is nothing you have done. I must go now. Mama loves you, she always will. You will remember won't you little one? I love you, you are my light."

"I love you too." Aesa whispered, Adrian was pulling her away aggressively. "Take Magda. She'll look after you!" Taking the treasured doll Sana pulled away from the Hunter and leaned in to her husband, pulling his face close. A face she had once kissed, loved and cherished. With a heart rapidly turning to ice she spoke, venom dripping from every word.

"You're a walking dead man. Make every day last my husband, you have so few left." As she turned away from him, his face turned a ghastly white. She forced a smile for Aesa. And walked away.

"Watch over her Vita. She is my life. What's yours is mine and what's mine is yours." Vita simply nodded.

"And him?" She whispered. Sana allowed herself one more look at her husband and nodded.

"Do what you must. Aesa is the only thing that matters."

As her Mama and Aunt Vita disappeared out of the village, Aesa turned and ran. Confusion racked her body and the fear which had been her companion through the night sent violent shivers through her body. Why did Pa not help Mama? Why had he kept them from each other? The thought of returning to the place she had once called home petrified her, knowing she would always see the ghost of her mother's terrified eyes, she ran instead for the Bewychwood Forest. As she stepped between the huge towering oaks, their leaves mostly scattered on the floor in a motley of colour her breathing calmed. The forest had always been safe. Sinking to her knees beside the heavy roots, she allowed the tears to come.

"Hello." A quiet voice suddenly whispered. Looking up she saw a tall girl with brilliant red hair. "I'm Letty." Unsure of what to do Aesa simply stared at the girl without expression before muttering her own name. She simply wanted to cry.

"I'm sorry Aesa. About your Ma. I liked her a lot." Aesa said nothing so Letty continued. "I saw you gave her your doll. If you like, you can have mine." She held out a small doll with matching flame red hair. "The hair is from my Ma. She is called Molly but you can change her name if you like."

"Thank you. Molly is pretty." She managed to say quietly, clutching the precious gift. Her new friend sat beside her in silence and simply hugged her.

Chapter 6

Aesa pushed the curls out of her eyes, with a sigh. There was little she despised more than washing up, it always left her hot and sweaty and she was forever dropping the plates. In response to her brooding the mug she held in one hand slipped from her grip and plonked into the bowl with a burst of water. Once she would have laughed, turned to her Mama with a grin to show off her soapy face. Those times were gone. Clumsiness meant people got hurt. Aesa had vowed to change herself, to be more careful. She would never let another person come to harm for her mistakes; for she knew deep down that that was what had happened to her Mama. My fault. Her father had long since gone to work and she hoped so long as she finished the chores he would have no cause to get mad. Once done, she pulled on her shoes, now too small for her and made her way to the bakery. Letty's father and mother ran the bakery together and Aesa knew how to get there without her father seeing. Sometimes he did not seem to mind her friendship with Letty, then again sometimes it seemed to enrage him more than her not finishing her chores. However it was Aesa seeing her Aunt which really angered her father. Whenever she ventured out of the house, she prayed to the Watchers that she would see Aunt Vita, even if only for a moment, but someone would usually tell her Pa and he would show her how displeased he was. For nearly three summers she had tried to catch moments with Aunt Vita, finding comfort in the small snatches of time they had together. All of Aesa's dreams were of her leaving her father's house for good, finally going and living with her Aunt. In her dreams they were always happy.

"Good morning Aesa." Lian smiled. Aesa liked Letty's Ma a lot. They looked so alike with bright green eyes and red hair. Though Letty was nearing her twelfth birthing day and so was older than Aesa by two summers, they were as close as sisters. They did not need anyone else, nor did any other child have any inclination to talk to them. She knew why they were shunned, Mama had been a witch, no one wanted to be friends with the child of a witch. The bakery looked onto the Village Square but there was a back door which led into the kitchen itself, with stairs which led to Letty's house. It was her favourite place after the forest, the fire was always warm and the air smelled of fresh bread.

"Why don't you let me brush your hair whilst Letty gets dressed?" Lian asked her, pulling her to sit on a stool. Aesa knew her hair was matted, her small hands struggled to get the knots out, and so she welcomed the offer.

"Aesa dear, did you fall over?" Lian asked, Aesa shook her head confused.

"Your neck is bruised." Straight away Aesa's guard went up and she pulled away. She was grateful that Letty's Ma did not ask after her bruises again. Pa would be furious if he found out. Best that no one knew. Particularly Aunt Vita. She always took extra care hiding her bruises from Aunt Vita.

Vita daydreamed of old times as she brewed a batch of her best medicine for winter colds. With the merciless season approaching it couldn't hurt to be prepared. From outside, a shock of red caught her attention. There were a number of red headed people in the village, but this colour was different, dark like an intense fire. It had to be Lian or Letty. Vita was grateful to both mother and daughter. From the brief conversations she had managed with her niece she knew that the Baker family had shown Aesa nothing but kindness in the last three years, often to their own detriment. A small figure was making its way to her isolated house. Out beneath her beloved trees she felt at peace, but there was still a restlessness in her heart which could not be soothed with anything other than Aesa. One day her niece would come home to her; of that she was certain.

"Good morning Healer Vita." Letty exclaimed breathlessly when she reached the door.

"Good morning child. Is everything ok with your family?"

"Everyone is fine Healer. But my Ma asked me to fetch you." Whilst Vita felt connected to the villagers in an almost maternal way, she was not close to anyone. Once that had been because she was content with having Sana as her friend and confidante, then it was because they had cast her sister out without any proof of their allegations and finally it was because they all feared her greatly. They would never banish her like they had Sana, simply because of her superior Healing skills. But Vita was under no illusion, if a Healer arrived at the village who was just as good as her, she would find herself surrounded by flames and screaming villagers in no time, being the sister of an accused witch was as good as being the condemned in the eyes of the superstitious. Taking a swig of mead she scowled over her mug.

"If she isn't bloody ill then what's wrong with her?" She pushed.

"I'm not sure Healer, Ma told Pa she was feeling unwell, but when I got worried she told me she was fine but she needed to speak to you privately. She didn't want anyone to know." Instantly Vita's mind went wild with ideas, not all of them pleasant. What could Lian want? Maybe she had an unwanted child, but she knew Lian was very much still in love with her husband and could not imagine her wishing to be rid of his babe.

"Very well dear, let's get going." She went to leave empty handed but thought better of it and hung her bag over her shoulder before getting up. If Lian was going to these extremes for secrecy then Vita should probably follow suit. The path to the village was smooth, but when they reached the bakery Vita couldn't help letting out a breath of frustration... stairs. Oh how she hated stairs. Taking it as slow as necessary she dragged her way up, knowing bloody well how annoyed she would be if there was nothing wrong with Lian. When she arrived Lian was sat up in her bed looking extremely anxious, her face was slightly pale, almost sickly. Maybe she was ill after all. "Lian, whatever is the matter? What is with all the darn cryptic nonsense?"

"Oh Healer Vita, you came. I am so sorry for the bother." Lian began breathlessly.

"You're worrying me." Vita said shaking her head half-heartedly. "And just call me Vita."

"I had to talk to you but I knew it would only cause more harm than good if he saw us together."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?!" She demanded.

"Adrian! Letty, would you go and play in the other room." The child went without a complaint. "I have two things to tell you Vita. Both are about your beloved niece. You know I think of her as part of my family."

"Please Lian, please tell me what is wrong." She leaned forward over the bed, her tone was pleading; this woman was trying to tell her something about Aesa. She needed desperately to know what was wrong.

"Adrian has been hitting her." Lian blurted out before watching Vita warily, as though she may at any moment explode. Instead, Vita simply nodded. She could understand the need for secrecy. Lian wanted Vita to know, so she could somehow put a stop to it. But it was imperative no one be aware of their conversation, it must be as though Vita was oblivious to Adrian's cruelty.

"The rest?"

"I believe Adrian is planning a marriage for Aesa."

"What?" Aesa was barely ten summers. Whilst many girls were wedded when they reached puberty, Vita doubted that many families in the village would want a union with the daughter of a witch. Superstitious bunch of...

"I overheard him boasting to Gert." Lian cut off her train of thought. "A distant cousin of his is willing to take her now and then, when she is of age, she will marry his son."

"What do you expect me to do with this knowledge?" Vita whispered. How could he do this to her? First he took Sana from her, now he wanted to rip out what was left of her heart. How could he want rid of someone as pure and kind hearted as Aesa?

"I expect you to put a stop to it. She comes to me with bruises she tries to hide. She comes with red eyes, swollen from crying. Please Vita, I implore you to help."

"You think I don't want to help!" She cried exasperated. She wanted nothing more than to save Aesa from that man. "What exactly do you suppose I can do?"

"I... Well I don't know. But, if what they say your sister did is true, I was wondering if you were... you know... as well."

"Lian, you are making no sense."

"Then let me ask you, what would Sana have done?" The question stumped Vita. What would Sana have done? She would have made the man wish he had never been born. "I know you have the power Vita. I am asking you to use it."

"You are asking me to break the law, you are accusing me of being a witch and requesting I use the very powers my sister was almost burnt to death for." Vita would use her gifts to help Aesa, she would die for Aesa even if that death was a prolonged and painful one. But she needed to know Lian would not betray her.

"She is just a girl Vita." Lian whispered in response.

"I fear she is less of a girl than most of the women in the village." Vita replied sadly before leaving the house in a hurry. She had plans to make, and she must make them swiftly.

Chapter 7

For once Vita wished her house was just a little closer to the village. Nothing could break her concentration. She had only attempted the trick twice before. Making oneself invisible was not a simple feat. She was unsure of the rules behind it but she and Sana had discovered the ruse simply served to make others forget they had seen you. Their vacant expressions would glance at you before slipping away, it was something they had done to sneak past their mother in their youth. Never before had she used the trick for such a crucial and important plan. It was a slow but steady process, she needed to be in the Village Square in time to see Adrian leaving the Speaker's office. When she eventually reached her destination she stayed as far back as possible from the square, no one could touch her or they may realise someone was there. So she waited in one of the six connecting alley ways, hidden behind a cart belonging to the butcher. The stench of blood filled her nostrils, making her nauseous. As the sun began to set she saw him, a glare fixed on his face, as was now a common feature. She waited until he had reached the middle of the square, the very point where her sister's cage had once sat, before she unleashed her power. Flames erupted from his fingertips, it took a lot of concentration to keep the flames from burning him, she needed someone to see him soon or she wouldn't have enough strength to remain unseen. Carefully she commanded the flames to continue their journey up his arms, licking at his bare skin. His brown eyes stared down at his tanned arm, fear and surprise gripping him in equal measure. It didn't take long for someone to scream the word she wanted to hear.

"WITCH!" She didn't see who the cry came from, and she didn't care. The key to the whole plan, was that someone see him, that someone take the bait and shout out that one condemning word. Even from her vantage point, she could see sweat pouring off Adrian. He didn't seem to have heard the screams and shouts all about him, all of his attention was focused entirely on the red-orange flames caressing his skin. A small crowd was building so Vita drew the power back to her and watched as the flames shrunk until they had completely diminished. Before her mind was completely exhausted Vita spun around and cautiously made her way home. Once there she awaited the call she knew would come. The Speaker's young son Roger knocked on her door less than an hour later.

"Is everything ok Roger?" It was difficult to keep her voice calm.

"Yes Healer Vita, well no Healer Vita. It's Adrian."

"Is he ok?"

"Not at all. He's a witch, Healer!"

"What?" She whispered. Whilst she was acting, it was not difficult to feign surprise, for she had not known that her plan would work.

"My Pa asked me to fetch you. He wants to know if you will be offering Passage as his closest living relative. Will you come?"

"I will come."

"My Pa didn't ask me to say this Healer, but you ought to know that he used fire. Well that's what your sister was accused of." At his words she was genuinely shocked. She had not meant anyone to make that connection, particularly this slip of a lad barely passed his twelve birthing day. He had looked to his memory of Sana's own exile and put the two together. It was difficult to disguise her smile. He would soon see, he would understand what he had done to them.

Roger was extremely accommodating and repeatedly offered Vita his hand, he did not seem to grasp that it was impossible for her to move whilst holding on to another person. They made slow and steady progress to the village and once there she was met with a shocking sight. Adrian was being pulled to the pyre kicking and screaming, it seemed the villagers had guessed she would not offer Passage. The look on the faces surrounding him were full of contempt and hatred, no one cried for him as they had for Sana. Adrian had always been a tall and strong man, but on this eve desperation and survival instincts lent further strength to his arms. He bucked and pulled, moving even the strongest of the villagers who grabbed at him. Seeing the fear in his eyes sent her heart pounding, he may deserve all that was coming to him but Vita had never killed a man. Her life had been devoted to healing. And whilst it would not be her hand to set the pyre burning, it had been her hand which led him to this end. Nerves began taking hold but to speak now would mean her own death, leaving Aesa alone. No. She could not turn back now. This was for Sana. Alfen stepped out of the ring of villagers and walked toward her, a sorry look on his face. One scan of the crowd and Vita saw there were no Hunters present. Whilst it was frowned upon to have a witch trial with no Hunter present, in a place as far out as Renfall it would go unnoticed.

"Healer Vita, you came." She glanced around the circle and caught Lian's eye, which shone with knowledge, but her face was impassive and impossible to read. She would not give Vita away. At Lian's side stood Letty who had an arm around Aesa. Looking into the innocent eyes of her niece, she could not help but fear for the damage this evening could do to the child. Already having watched her mother exiled, would watching her father burn to death, hearing the blood curdling screams as flame consumed his flesh whilst he still breathed, scar her irrevocably? She already knew the answer to that question.

"I came." She replied after a moment, pulling herself together.

"Who requests Passage and who grants it?" He asked the traditional questions. She simply stood in silence. Adrian was staring at her desperately, imploring her help.

"Please Vita! Think about Aesa. Think about what Sana would have wanted!" He shouted frantically. Before Vita had a chance to respond, Nanci, a woman of similar age to Vita, ran toward Adrian and slapped him full on in the face.

"How dare you address her! How dare you look her in the eye after all you have done!" She spat in his face before spinning to the rest of the village. Adrian's eyes were full of murderous intent but as he struggled, the huge biceps on both of his wood cutter guards bulged through their sleeves, they would sooner die than let him out of their grasp. Vita was very grateful right then that he possessed no powers, or she doubted Nanci would still be breathing. "This man, if he can still be thought of as human, flung his own wife to the flames for his own crimes. Burn him for his sins! Burn him with no mercy." Nanci exclaimed before stalking away, angry tears in her eyes. Well said. Vita thought, even if it wasn't strictly true. The man still deserved to be punished. He had to die in order for Aesa to live a happy life. As she watched him being lashed to the stake that would hold him in the deadly flames, she allowed herself one look at Aesa. Her niece's blue eyes stared unblinking at her father, there was little expression on her face but Vita could see there was a sadness to her eyes. Maybe she was thinking how different things could have been. Perhaps, even at her tender age she knew that although the villagers now believed Sana to be innocent, she was still the offspring of a witch and as such would continue to be shunned. One of the huge guards held a burning torch ready whilst Alfen told Adrian of his crimes.

"Pray your soul is accepted to the Blessed Isles." With those last words, there was an almighty roar as the flames quickly caught fire to the kindling. As they rapidly grew Vita unleashed her gifts and drew the flames back until they were simply burning embers. The woodcutter thrust a second torch into the wood and watched gleefully as that too caught fire. Again, Vita calmed the flames. Adrian had to die, but surely no man deserved such a punishment. The second man raised a bow and arrow, pulling the string taught and directed it at Adrian's heart.

"Stop witch or I will pierce you with this to end your sinning."

"A quick death is preferable to a prolonged one." Adrian shouted before the wood cutter released the arrow. The blade flew true and as the arrow embedded itself in Adrian's heart, the life in his eyes fled instantly. At the same moment, Vita released her hold on the flames and they jumped into the air in a roar making many of those present jump back from the fierceness of the blaze. The villagers stared in wonder, for they had just witnessed magic. Aesa looked upon the flames for a moment before looking to her Aunt. At seeing the sad and lonely look in her niece's eyes, Vita could not help shedding a tear. In that one single look she knew, all that she had feared for Aesa was correct. The girl knew her fate was sealed. She may have saved her from a life married to a stranger far away from any who would even know her name, but she had now been bound to a life living with the villagers who may one day turn on her. But for Vita, she could see only love in Aesa's eyes. As the child stepped away from the sheltering arm of Letty and came to Vita, she took her weight on one cane, determined to at least be able to put one arm around her niece, to show her that she had her Aunt to protect her, now and always.

"I have missed you child." She whispered as Aesa wrapped her small arms around her waist.

"I missed you too." As the fire reached its climax, flames licked the air and smoke extending up as though to caress the sky, the rain began. In the distance the thunder rumbled, announcing its presence. As the villagers of Renfall all ran home for cover from the impending storm, Vita and Aesa rushed back to their home in the forest, a sombre walk which was filled with both happiness and heartache. As the heavens opened and torrential rain fell down on them, both could not help but feel a spark of hope for the future. For despite all else they would have each other and the closer they came to home the more safe they both felt in that knowledge. But in their new start in life, neither woman nor child could know what future storms would bring. Nor could they fathom how their destinies would find them in many years to come; their tears the rain and their anger the thunder which would rock the world.

Chapter 8

Aesa gently rested a hand on little Daniel's blond head and then felt his pulse. His cough was certainly worse than it had been two days before but she had the perfect remedy for his ailment.

"If you pour two spoons of this into a glass of water three times a day for a week his cough should go. You call me back in two days if his condition is no better."

"Thank you so much Healer Aesa." Mary muttered, her eyes never leaving her son and her hand rubbing her pregnant belly protectively. Daniel was three years old and Aesa had delivered him. Mary's husband Joen reached for some coins but Aesa simply shook her head firmly. The villagers often tried to pay her and Vita for their services, but Aunt Vita had not once accepted coins from anyone. They would find eggs, meat, pies and cloth on their porch, and that was enough payment. They made money by selling products at the Market each month. She left the house feeling a little emptier than she had done on entering it. Mary was three months younger than Aesa, she was married with a handsome son. Aesa would never be married, she would never have her own children. Whenever she mentioned the fact to her aunt, Vita told her to stop being pessimistic, but deep down they both knew that no man in the Village would wed her and in truth there was no man she would wed. Whilst most believed Sana had been innocent, they all knew Adrian was guilty and as such Aesa was still the offspring of a witch. On more than one occasion she had considered simply leaving it all, Renfall and her reputation. But this would always be home. She would live with the whispers and the hushed tones, she would respond to the distrust with sympathy and love.

"Sa!" She heard a small voice call out. The excitement evident in her voice told her it was Nora. Spinning around she caught her in a hug. Nearing two Nora found her name difficult to pronounce but Aesa loved how hard she tried.

"Hello my favourite little lady, are you looking after your Ma?" Nodding Nora lifted her hand to show her something, behind them Letty was stooping to pick up the food her daughter had dropped in her haste.

"Let me do that." She called quickly. Her friend was pregnant, and ready to burst by the looks of it.

"Thanks Aesa. Nora you little imp."

"Sorry Ma." She whispered ashamed. Holding out her arms Nora rushed in for a hug.

"It's ok my little love. You have been a good girl haven't you? Should we make Aunt Aesa some tea? You can have a biscuit." Before the word was out of her mouth Nora was rushing off toward their home. Aesa took the basket off her friend and they looped arms. Letty was now twenty, and like Aesa had once believed she would never marry. Despite her best attempts to convince Aesa she did not blame their friendship for her lack of suitors, Aesa had always felt partly to blame. But they had had each other and that had been enough. It had turned out however that her friend had long had an admirer. It was at the summer fair when Letty was sixteen, that the Speaker's son Roger had asked her to dance. His face had burned the same colour as Letty's hair and after dancing in silence for most of the night Letty eventually started a conversation. Lian had almost had to drag her daughter away to bed. The two had been inseparable ever since. Nora was their first child and had inherited Roger's black hair but it was coupled with Letty's green eyes and pale complexion. Aesa made the tea whilst Nora sat rubbing her mother's swollen belly, whispering to the baby.

"She's going to be such a good sister." Aesa commented.

"I think she's more excited than Roger and me." As though he had been summoned Roger swept through the door in a hurry.

"I just bumped into Mindi, she said she saw Aesa helping you home. Is the baby coming?" He exclaimed exasperated, it became obvious he had ran. It was impossible to keep from laughing and the sound seemed to calm Roger who sat down with a sigh. "I panicked something awful when she told me."

"I was in the village so came over for a cup of tea. Nothing to worry about Roger." Aesa explained.

"Well it's good to see you. Will you be coming with us to the summer fair?" He asked. When Roger had married Letty, Aesa had come as part of the package, now she had two best friends and she felt as rich as the royal family.

"I don't think I'll be going." She muttered, avoiding their eyes. She knew the family would all be disappointed, they loved to dance. "Please don't look at me like that."

"You have to go." Letty stated, as though saying it out loud made it so. "I'm far too big to dance with Nora now so you will have to do it."

"And my cousin will be in town. He is looking forward to meeting all the family." When she finally looked up Aesa was met by three wide eyes and big pouts, with a laugh she nodded. Through all her insecurities and faults these people were her family and she would do anything to make them happy.

"Ok I'll come for a while." She relented.

Vita looked up from her book and felt her heart beat quicken with excitement. "San-" She began before shaking herself mentally. Aesa was gingerly stepping out of Vita's room. Never before had she looked so like her mother. Her thick dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in curls and her big blue eyes were timid. One strand had gotten away and was stubbornly falling right over her eyes. "Aesa you look absolutely beautiful! Ah, bloody hell, now you've gone and got me crying."

"Honestly Aunt Vita, it's only a dress. And watch your language." Came a muttered reply. But it wasn't just a dress, it had been Sana's dress. It was tradition in Debdran for mothers to pass down their fair dresses to their first born daughter. The ceremony itself was handled differently across the country. Vita's own mother had presented the dress to Sana as a surprise and had cooked her favourite dinner, lamb stew. In the capital Vita had heard it told that magnificent balls were held each year for the daughters of noblemen to receive their mothers dresses as a rite of passage, an entry into womanhood. In the cities dresses were usually given after the girls eighteenth birthing day, in the country girls often received them after their wedding, when they were considered women. Tonight would be Aesa's first fair since turning eighteen and Vita had wanted her to have something special, something from her mother. It was also customary for a mother to add something to the dress before handing it down. Aesa's gown was a deep blue that matched the colour of her eyes. It had begun as a simple dress of blue but delicate changes had been added over the years. Intricate embroidery adorned the sleeves and waist, taking something pretty and making it beautiful. Vita could sense Aesa's discomfort, she was so accustomed to earthy colours of green and brown. Aesa fidgeted again.

"You don't have to wear it you know."

"It's not that Aunt Vita! I love the dress, it reminds me of Mama. It's just, well, I feel a little ridiculous."

"You sound bloody ridiculous. You look beautiful. Sana would be so proud."

"You are coming for a little while aren't you Aunt Vita?" Ever since her father's death, Aesa had grown nervous visiting Renfall proper. Whilst she loved her job and would attend any healing required, she preferred to travel with Vita. It was only in dire situations where she would venture into the village at night alone. Though they rarely discussed it, Vita knew that her niece was terrified the villagers would one day turn on her and she would find herself bound to the pyre like her parents. The two of them had an unspoken agreement not to mention the possibility, though Vita kept enough money saved to pay for Passage twice over. She had told Letty of the secret many years before, entrusting the girl to call for Passage if the time ever arose. When Vita had stood upon the beaches of Passage Point, watching as the tiny boat disappeared on the horizon all those years before, she had vowed that wherever Aesa went she too would go.

"Of course! Somebody needs to chaperone you when you look this bloody beautiful. Now come here, I have a little something extra. Now I know it is a mother's job to add something to the dress, but seeing as my sister can't be here, I wanted to give you something." She passed a small box to Aesa and watched expectantly as she opened it. Inside was a simple cream hair slide, decorated with three white snowflakes. The piece had cost her a fortune in savings but it was worth it to see her niece's eyes light up with wonder.

"It's stunning." Aesa whispered, touching it lightly before twisting a knot of hair back and using the slide to hold it in place.

"Now I think it's time to go. Letty's feet will be itching to dance."

As predicted, Letty was anxious to leave, when Aesa and her aunt arrived they found her in a state of hyper excitement.

"Oh Aesa you look stunning." She exclaimed before dragging them all out the door. Nora held onto Roger's hand obediently but she was toddling along eagerly.

"Aesa tells me your cousin will be here tonight." Aunt Vita said to Roger who nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, I've only met him a handful of times but I spent a whole summer with him and his family when I was twelve, we have been writing ever since. It's always so good to see him. He's a Messenger you know." Messengers travelled the country carrying anything and everything, letters, parcels, trade. Aesa thought it must be an extremely fascinating job, but she was sure the Messengers must get lonely. They often travelled in groups but would have to split up for their individual destinations. They never stayed in one place for long. In her lifetime, the longest a Messenger had stayed in Renfall had been a couple of nights. "He is planning on staying for half a moon. He explained that he had family, including a new member on the way, and asked if he could take some leave. He never normally travels this far south but took on a friend's rounds so he could see us." They arrived at the square to see the fair was in full swing. The villagers who could play instruments had been practising together for weeks and had set themselves up on the centre plinth, an area for dancing had been established next to the stage and already there were people merrily enjoying the music. An array of colours splattered across the usual drab village square with the women in their best dresses and the men their best shirts. All the shops were open and offering a variety of food and drink, provided by the villagers themselves. Huge tankards of mead and mulled wine were scattered on all the tables for people to help themselves. Skewered meats had been spiced and cooked and were on one table for people to collect. Another shop held an array of sweet cakes, Letty added her own to the pile and Aesa placed her basket of sweet bread to the mix, only after taking a piece out for Aunt Vita.

"You go find a seat, I'll get everyone a drink and try to find Cale!" Roger offered, passing Letty's arm to Aesa.

"Honestly Roger I'm pregnant not an invalid. I can walk unaided you know!" Despite her admonishment she smiled at him adoringly and kept hold of Aesa's arm.

"He'll struggle to find his cousin in this rabble." Vita exclaimed as they sat down.

"I'm not so sure, Cale is supposed to be one to stand out from the crowd."

"Is he tall, tanned, dark hair and green eyes?"

"Yes that's him!" Letty replied surprised. Aesa felt her cheeks burning. Roger had not mentioned how handsome his cousin was.

"He's right over there." Aesa nodded in his direction and to her embarrassment Letty and Aunt Vita turned to stare at him just as he looked in their direction. His eyes met Aesa's and stayed there for longer than she deemed proper but she found herself unable to look away. Collecting himself, his gaze moved on and as he took in Letty's red hair and swollen belly he beamed. Aesa didn't blink, she did not want to close her eyes from this view for even a moment, for his smile was the most handsome one she had ever beheld. As he walked over she felt her cheeks grow more and more red with each step.

"Excuse me ladies, I don't mean to intrude but would you happen to be Letty?" He asked politely.

"You must be Cale." She replied grinning.

"It's so lovely to finally meet you!" He cried laughing. "You have been the focus of most of the letters I have ever received from my cousin. And of course, this must be Nora." Nora peered out from behind her mother's back smiling. Cale held out his hand politely but Nora simply stared at it bewildered.

"Cale!" Roger shouted eagerly. The two cousins grasped hands and began laughing. "Look how tall you are! By the Watchers, I told the girls you would stand out." And he did, Roger was tall but Cale had a bulkier frame. His smile was easy and extended to his eyes. By the Watchers he's handsome. Aesa thought before shooting a quick glance around to make sure no one could read her thoughts. "You have met my wife. Isn't she as beautiful as I told you?" Roger asked proudly making Letty blush. "Well she has piled on a few pounds. It's all the cakes she makes, she is a wonderful cook." They all laughed, except Nora.

"Da'! It's a baby!" She exclaimed rubbing her mother's tummy.

"Daddy is a horror isn't he love! Why don't you go and play with your friends?" She nodded and ran off in the direction of a group of children. Aesa watched her leave nervously until she reached the other children who were playing making what looked to be mud pies.

"And these two lovely ladies are, well let's say they are part of the extended family. Healer Vita and her niece Healer Aesa."

"It's nice to put a face to the names." Cale said politely inclining his head to them both. He met Aesa's eyes again, so intense they took her breath away.

Cale tried to listen intently to the conversation, he had missed his cousin terribly, but both his eyes and his thoughts kept returning to her. Through all his travels and ventures he had never lain eyes on a creature so beautiful. Her skin was soft and pale in the flickering torch light, a mane of curled dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in a wave and in the midst of it all were her eyes. So full of life, vibrant. His heart beat wildly in his chest and for the first time in years he experienced nerves, a swarm of butterflies fluttered through his stomach and he felt his hand shake slightly over his mug of mead. She was so close and yet felt so far that he could finally no longer bear their separation. Her head was lowered over the sweet bread she was picking at, but her eyes looked up at that moment, staring at him through long dark lashes, as though anticipating his next move, a shy smile playing across her lips.

"Would you like to dance?" The words finally escaping. He was afraid she would say no, Roger had never mentioned a husband, or even that Aesa was courting anyone, but that did not mean she would say yes to him. What made him any different to the other men of the village? She smiled once more and nodded. They made their way to the dance area and he placed one hand on her waist and the other held one of her small hands, he found it remarkable that such slight hands could save lives. He could feel by her tense stance how nervous she was, whether it was because of him or anything else he did not know.

"So, you're a Healer?" He asked feeling stupid the moment the words were out his mouth. He knew she was a Healer; everyone had been addressing her 'Healer Aesa' all evening.

"Yes, I have apprenticed with my Aunt since I was ten." She replied, even her voice was so alluring, so soft and sincere. "How long have you been a Messenger?"

"I joined when I was eighteen, four summers now."

"I bet it's fascinating. Seeing all those places, meeting new people." Aesa whispered so quietly it seemed as though she was talking to herself more than him. The music slowed down, making it easier for them to talk and giving him an excuse to hold her a little closer.

"There are some people I have enjoyed meeting more than others." He said. Oh Watchers, did I just say that out loud? "So, how long have you known Roger?" Another stupid question, she had lived in Renfall all her life. She had known Roger all her life. He had never been a shy person before, never one to question himself. But this girl was bringing out a strange side to him.

"I hardly knew him until he made his feelings known to Letty, she is like a sister to me."

"Roger told me about a red haired beauty when he first came to stay with me and my family. He told me he would marry her one day. He also mentioned a friend of hers. It's strange that I have met you all now. Even your Aunt, Roger speaks with her like she is a Priestess. Between you and me I think he is a little afraid of her." Cale saw that his words had shocked her, a tiny line appeared across her forehead as she looked over at Roger. He could see that he had upset her and felt immediate regret for his words. "I am sorry Aesa, I only meant that she scared him like his mother used to. He still tells me now that he sometimes thinks he may find himself at the wrong end of one of her canes one day." With that a smile slowly stretched across her face. She was so attractive when she was thinking, mystery and intelligence surrounded her like a cloud and when she smiled her whole face lit up. He couldn't help but grin like an idiot at the sight.

"Are you OK?" She asked.

"You're just so breathtaking." He definitely said that out loud. "I'm so sorry. Please don't think me rude."

"Don't apologise. It just shows what an old dress can do for a plain girl." She smiled again. "This was my mother's dress. Today is the first time I have worn it." He could hear the pride in her voice; he remembered his sister's wedding day, when she had worn their mothers dress with pride.

"It is beautiful. And you make it perfect. Aesa, I know this is presumptuous of me. But may I see you tomorrow? Please?" Her forehead creased again in thought, she looked so vulnerable like that, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and protect her. Slowly she nodded.

"I would like that."

"Daniel! Mitch! You better give me that bloody tankard back or I swear to the Watchers-" Vita's voice rang out, drowned out by an outburst of giggling from the boys.

"I'd better go." Aesa said quickly, looking back over her shoulder at him she gave him a shy smile before reprimanding her Aunt, after which the two of them made a hasty exit, though it did amuse him to see Vita still mumbling to herself about the mead.

Chapter 9

Aesa awoke earlier than usual with a sickly feeling in her stomach. The feeling itself was not unknown to her, nerves had been her companion for many years. What was different was the cause of those nerves. Cale. Sipping her mug of thail, Aesa stared at the clothes laid out on her cot. She owned only a handful of garments, but still it took her longer than normal to get dressed. In the end she picked out a dark green dress and pulled on her brown boots. Taking a leather thong she tied her hair back out of her face, naturally there was one strand which refused to do as she wished. Huffing as though to make a point to it, she turned to her Aunt. Their home was only small, and when it was built Aunt Vita had expected to be the sole occupant, Aesa slept on a pallet in the main room which suited her just fine.

"I wish you were coming with me Aunt Vita." She admitted over their breakfast.

"Then it wouldn't be called courting would it darling. Aesa, I can't pretend that I know what it is like to court a man. But I do know you, if you just go out there and be yourself you'll have him head over heels in love."

"Don't exaggerate Aunt Vita. Cale will be leaving in half a moon. After that who knows when I will see him again?"

"Already so bloody pessimistic. I think you spend too much time with this old crank." A light knock demanded their attention. They knew it had to be him, their usual visitors knocked with a more frantic approach. "Have fun." Her Aunt said with a twinkle in her eye. As Aesa stepped outside she was met with a muggy warmth common in Renfall in the summer seasons.

"Hello." Aesa said unsurely, looking up at Cale. The top of her head only just reached his chest.

"Hi." He gave her one of his easy smiles and offered his arm. "Where would you like to go today?"

"Well I thought we could walk in the forest, there is a creek which is really very beautiful this time of year. And it's market day today which is always fun. People come from the other villages."

"That sounds perfect." They walked in silence for a while. Aesa wanted to say something, anything, but she was terrified. She didn't want him to think her a fool. Cale had seen the world, his eyes shone with intelligence, she had hardly even ventured out of the village. "Aesa?"

"Mmm?"

"Have you ever thought of travelling? You seemed so animated when you asked me about my job last night, I just wondered if you are an adventurer at heart."

"Part of me thinks I would love to see the rest of Debdran, but I am also content here. I have Aunt Vita to think about."

"Your aunt doesn't seem like the type to need help." He remarked, looking down at her pointedly. He was right of course, Aesa hadn't stayed around because her aunt needed her; she had stayed because she needed her aunt.

"I feel safe with her." She whispered eventually. "Tell me about your job. Why do you do it? Where has been your favourite place?" He raised an eyebrow at her as though she had just made his point, bringing out a laugh.

"I love everything about it. I love to travel. I guess I am looking for that one place that takes my breath away and I think; 'here - this is home'... But the places I get to see, the cities are amazing, colossal buildings which twist up to dizzying heights, towering archways and entirely glass domes. I have always wondered how man could create such wonderful places."

"Have you been to the capital? To Jakoby?"

"Of course, that is where the Messengers are based. Aesa, the palace is just about the most beautiful thing I ever saw. The walls are grey, lifeless sounding I know, but the towers rise up in each corner, a flag is flown from each peak. Banners hang from all of the windows of the tower, colourful images which give life to the stone. Majestically grotesque stone gargoyles guard the walls of the castle itself, they are both imposing and beautiful." As he finished talking they had just reached the creek she had told him about, the trees were thick here and the air smelled of damp soil and leaves. The creek was a small stream of water which ran in between grey green rocks, a small but pretty waterfall making soothing sounds as the water hit the rocks at the bottom.

"Wow. This is, it's stunning Aesa."

"I know you have seen a thousand sights, but this is one of my favourite spots, see how the water hits the bottom? The water is so clear here that you can still see the fish. But your description of Jacoby sounds wonderful. Just like it is described in The Tales of Magdala." He looked at her surprised and Aesa couldn't help but feel a little affronted. "I can read you know!"

"I don't doubt that, it's just that The Tales of Magdala is one of my favourite books. I used to read it as a child, it is what made me want to be a Messenger." The book was based on the journeys of the explorer Magdala. The story itself was written centuries ago, from just after the Exile. No one was sure if Magdala was an imaginary character or if he had once lived and breathed like Aesa did now. Once they realised they had a shared interest, Aesa found she could not stop talking. She told him all of her favourite books, most of which he had read. She went on to tell him how her passion was medicine. How she loved being a Healer, there was nothing as fulfilling as saving a life, or delivering one.

"I delivered Nora. She was the first child I delivered without Aunt Vita to guide me." She told him. It occurred to her that she may sound boastful but his smile told her he understood she was simply trying to explain how rewarding it was. "I think I was more terrified than Letty, she trusted me completely. I have a strange relationship with the villagers. Aunt Vita used to tell me they were like her children and I never understood until I delivered Nora. I think that was the day everything dawned on me, why I had to be a Healer, what it truly meant. I knew then that my history with my neighbours was in the past, it was my future relationship with them that mattered. I would be like Aunt Vita, always close at hand, always there to guide. I think it was more difficult for me than for Aunt Vita. But I got there eventually and now I think of the whole village as my children. Does that sound odd?" Aesa realised she had been rambling. Uncertainty took hold of her and she wondered whether Roger would have mentioned her father's death. It was doubtful, she decided, Roger was a kind man and would not have been one to join in with spreading gossip. This was her opportunity to explain her history, lay out all the facts. But a selfish part of her stilled her tongue. If they were only to have two weeks, she did not want them tainted by the ghosts of her past. For so long she had wanted the chance to be normal. Suddenly ashamed, Aesa jumped to her feet. "Let's go down to the market. We have been here for hours and I really should help Aunt Vita. We have a stall there." She explained. Together they made their way back through the Bewychwood Forest. Aesa couldn't help glancing up at Cale as they walked. She barely reached his shoulders in height, but found this attractive, his long arms were muscled and strong, he walked with a sense of pride and strength and she could see that he was a confident person, if a little nervous around her. His dark hair cast a shadow over his eyes, and a scatter of stubble covered his chin and upper lip. It was strange, but looking upon his face felt something akin to coming home. That moment, after a long day, or a particularly difficult healing, when you take your cloak off, get a warm drink and sit by the fire with a book. That was how she felt when she was with him.

Aesa's arm remained looped through his as they neared the town, but as they approached the bustling square she went to retract it.

"Are you ashamed to be seen with me?" He teased. With a grin she locked her arm in his.

"Not at all." They strolled along the stalls for a while, browsing the pots, jewellery, books and spices. There was an array of produce available from food to make up to clothes. Too soon for Cale's liking, they reached Vita's stall. It was surrounded by a crowd, but with his height he was able to look over their heads and at the table easily. A selection of bottles spread out across the table, presumably medicines. Next to them was a mixture of baskets, books and paintings. It was a strange little stall. But seeing it made him smile slightly, it suited them, these Healers. Aesa seemed to sense his reaction.

"We don't charge for our Healing so we make money this way. Aunt Vita used to sell baskets that she had made and books of healing tips. She sells some of her medicines to visiting villagers, this way they do not have to make the trip to see her over a simple cough. I am sorry Cale but I should really help her." He could see that Aesa didn't want to go, but they both know Vita needed a hand.

"Who does the paintings?" He asked before she turned away.

"I do. Do you like them?"

"May I have one? How much are they?"

"Cale, if you come and see me tomorrow I will give you one for free." He grinned stupidly, feeling his legs grow weak in her gaze.

"Tomorrow. I can't wait." She gave him one last smile that sent his heart racing before making her way through the crowd to help her Aunt. As he turned away he remembered the advice he once gave his friend, he had told him to try not act so keen in front of the barmaid he liked. But as he walked away, his thoughts full of Aesa, he knew the advice was foolish. Aesa was unlike anyone he had ever met before, she rendered him speechless whilst also bringing out a desire to tell her every one of his stories to make her smile. Her eyes still captivated him, just as they had done the night before when he met them across the square. He made his way dreamily through the throngs. He wanted to get her something. Something special. There were bottles of perfumes, tins of paint for ones face, but Aesa was already perfection. He wandered between the stalls, finding nothing which could match her radiant beauty, until finally he found it.

Cale stared at his reflection in the small looking glass which hung on the wall in his room at the inn. It was one of the simpler inns he had stayed in but by far one of the best. The inn keeper was his Uncle Alfen, and so staying here felt more like staying at home. He was served the most delicious meals and the young stable boy was always at hand. Being a Messenger saw Cale in varying accommodations. Just three moons ago he was staying in an inn named The King's Arms; it had once taken King Marco as a customer and ever since had flourished into one of the finest establishments in the country with velvet chairs, four huge fire places in the common room, and mahogany beds fit for royalty. He looked round at the single bed with a mattress made from straw, it drooped a little in the centre, covering the bed was a plain brown blanket of wool. He scrubbed his face in the small basin, the dark stubble once again making an appearance, it was always better for him to leave it, when he was clean shaven he couldn't help noticing how mismatched his face looked, the top half touched by the sun, the bottom much paler, it was really quite laughable. After breakfast he was going to go over and see Aesa, then he would say his goodbyes to Roger and Letty. He was going to miss his cousin and his wife terribly, but the thought of saying goodbye to Aesa left him feeling sick. A scowl spread across his face and for a moment he felt a burning in the back of his throat which he had never known before. The truth was, Cale was completely in love with Aesa. Fate had a cruel way of twisting lives together only to pull them apart. Making his way down the stairs into the common room he took a deep breath, as though to remember the scent, it was a strange custom he had begun on his first Messenger job. The room was mostly empty save a spattering of occupants at three tables, he took a seat away from the other occupants and turned his back. He simply did not feel up for being friendly this day.

"You think she slipped him a love potion?" One of the men whispered. There was one thing Cale had come to know about common rooms, whispers drew attention quicker than shouts.

"Could be. I do know she hasn't told him that she is the daughter of two witches. You'd think he'd figure it out for himself, pretty thing like her still a maiden. Poor fool."

"At least he's leaving today. Best thing for him." Cale felt the walls come crashing down all about him. Horror and disgust filled him until, finally, he pushed his seat back and hurried out the door. Aesa was a witch? No, daughter of a witch. It was the same thing really. Why hadn't she told him? Was she tricking him? He had wondered why she was not married, but he had believed it was because she was too good for the men in the village. She was too good for anyone. But was she a witch? The conflict in his own heart was agony, he needed to know the truth. He thought he loved her, but was it all an illusion? Just a trick?

"I hate this." Aesa cried suddenly, she saw her sudden outburst had startled Aunt Vita. "Why do I feel like this?" She whispered. She had seen Cale every day since the Summer fair, and now they only had one day left. One day. There would never be enough time for her to be with Cale, every day for the rest of her life would seem too short a span. Her whole body felt numb and tears were not far away, she could feel them in the burn in her throat and hear them in the hitch in her voice. Her hand was resting on the book he had bought for her, Adventure, worship and war: The Memoirs of Luna Luisa. The day after the market he had arrived at the door smiling in anticipation, in his hands was a small parcel and inside was this book. She had already finished it, like he had promised Aesa had not been able to close the book once she began. With the book he had also given her a book mark. She knew when she saw it that it was his own. She had never owned one before. This one was a small painting of the Palace at Jacoby and it looked exactly as he had described it. Though old and faded it was beautiful and she found it all the more so for the age. "I don't want him to go." She finally said, looked at her Aunt. Aunt Vita made things better, she always had done. Every problem she faced and conquered. If only Aesa could be so brave.

"I can't conquer this one for you." Aunt Vita said sadly as though she had just read Aesa's mind. Aesa simply nodded. This dilemma was not one that could be overcome by a soothing speech from her Aunt. The daily knock came and she rose begrudgingly. What was the point in seeing him when he was only going to say goodbye? She thought bitterly. But she went. If they only had this day left then so be it. She wouldn't ruin it.

"I will see you later." Aesa grumbled headed for the door. Then she was looking up into his green eyes, eyes that mirrored her own mood. They began walking away from the house in silence, she sensed a change in him but could not be sure what had caused it. Before, when they had been silent it had felt good, they had simply enjoyed the sounds of the forest together. This felt awkward.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Stopping dead in her tracks Aesa felt everything come crashing down around her. She felt as though a rock had been dropped in her stomach. There was no need to say another word, she understood exactly what he meant.

"Please don't be mad Cale." She managed through her tears.

"Don't be mad? Aesa I just had to hear that the woman I thought I was in love with may have slipped me a love potion! Are you or are you not a witch?!" He didn't raise his voice, but he didn't have to, the contempt was there and that was enough.

"So that's what they are saying now." She muttered. "And you believe that?"

"I don't know what to believe." He replied tersely.

"You have got a bloody nerve Messenger Cale. And so do they! I give everything to this village. I would give my life for any of the people here. I nearly have! You think Healers are immune to the illnesses and diseases their patients get? I am eighteen and already I have escaped death three times. But I keep going back because I love them! I love them despite the fact that they falsely accused my mother of witchcraft! When I was barely seven summers they threw her in a cage to await her punishment despite a severe lack of evidence. I love them regardless of the fact that none of them stepped forward to help her. I love them even though they watched as a crowd of Hunters surrounded her and marched her out of the village. I love them even though I will never see her again, never know if she made the Passage. When I was ten my father lost control of his powers, he did so in front of the town. My father was a witch and he was evil, he gave my mother in for his own crimes. He was willing to watch her burn. I love these villagers though they stood back and let the man that betrayed my mother beat me black and blue. He burnt for his sins. I hate him with a passion, I hate him as reverently as I love Aunt Vita. But I don't believe he was evil because he was a witch. I believe he was evil because of his actions. A man with a knife is not always a threat, it is the man's decisions which determine whether he is good or evil. I know the villagers are all a bunch of superstitious back country bumpkins but I never expected it from you! I am the daughter of a witch! But I am good dammit. I am a good person and I don't need you telling me any different. You are a cruel and superstitious man Cale. I never want to see you again!" She turned away from him and ran. The thought of facing her Aunt was too much to bear, so she just ran. She had given him her heart and he had spat it back in her face. Pain unlike anything she had ever experienced before lanced through her heart but she did not stop running.

When Aesa finally returned home the sun was setting, she found her Aunt frantically tapping her nails on the table top. She had never seen her so agitated.

"Aunt Vita, whatever is the matter!" She cried falling beside her.

"What's the matter! Darn it girl, I have had Cale here all day waiting for you to return. He explained to me what happened. I have been sick with worry. Where have you been?"

"You let him stay! After everything he said." Aunt Vita's anxious expression softened and she patted Aesa's hand.

"If you had seen the lad's face you would have let him stay." She pointed at a small pile of books on the table, on top was a letter. "He left those. I haven't read it but I think you should." Aesa felt fresh tears welling in her eyes. Hadn't she cried enough over him? With trembling hands she reached for the pile and removed the letter, his handwriting was precise and neat, though she could see how his hand must have trembled as he wrote.

To My Dearest Aesa,

If I could write I am sorry a thousand times, it would not be enough to express the sincere remorse I feel at how I have treated you. I cannot write excuses, as to do so would be to dishonour you further. You have said you wish never to look upon me again, and this wish I can grant you. You are such a kind hearted person who deserves only the best in life. You have been dealt a bad hand, however I see only happiness in your future, I am ashamed it will not be me who brings you that which you deserve. I live in hope that one day I shall earn your forgiveness, until that day I shall never again know peace. My heart remains here with you my love, keep it well.

Your ever faithful servant

Cale

Beneath the letter there were three books. What she discovered broke her heart. Each book was a journal, Cale's journals. They went back four summers, to the day he left home to become a Messenger. His final entry had been the night before, it spoke of Renfall, of the creek she had shown him, and of her. His Heart's Keeper. She knew then that he meant every word in his letter, and it tore her up inside. Nothing could console her then, she simply sat and sobbed.

Cale had been riding hard all night and knew he had to rest his horse but if he stopped he may turn back. He needed to keep his mind occupied. He couldn't think of Aesa, every time he did he saw her face as she shouted at him. The feeling of disgust at himself for his words ate at him. There were no excuses; he would forever live with the guilt and the shame knowing he had ruined his chances of ever being with her. As he rode, the disgust he felt for himself was accompanied by a true pride in Aesa. She had been through too much in her eighteen years and still she stayed. The villagers of Renfall were her children and she would never abandon them even as they abandoned her. How could he have let some old fashioned superstitious country bumpkins come between him and his love? For that was what Aesa was, she was his love, his one chance at true happiness. And yet here he was, riding away.

Chapter 10

Aesa awoke on the morning of the sixth day since Cale had left; despite their short courtship she continued to feel raw inside. The next Messenger would not return for another two moons but she had already written a letter each day in anticipation. She would continue to do so until the Messenger came. It was doubtful he would return but she didn't care. She would write, she would try and make amends for what she had ruined. It was a typically hot day; the sun beat down on the ground so bright that it even managed to infiltrate the heavy canopy of trees in the Bewychwood forest. There was a storm brewing and everyone in Renfall knew it. Taking advantage of the glorious weather whilst they still could, the nights were lively as villagers met outside in the streets. The inn had even moved many of its chairs into the Village Square and were serving cold mugs of ale. Aesa took the last of Cale's journals and sat on the swinging chair Roger had made for her on the porch. It meant she faced the forest she so loved, and she was fond of sitting there with her paints depicting the brooding trees of her home. But today she wanted to read about Cale. The descriptions of his journey were so vivid she imagined herself behind him on his horse's saddle, travelling the world together. As she sat gently swinging back and forth, a glimpse of movement to the left caught her eye, Roger was running down the path toward her. No words were needed, she grabbed her herb pouch and followed Roger back to the village. She found Letty with Lian and Mary, sat back on her bed. Her face was covered in sweat and tears.

"Mary would you please take Nora over to your house." Mary nodded once and squeezed Letty's pale hand before hurrying out of the room. Despite that this was not her first delivery without Aunt Vita Aesa's stomach still flipped over with nerves. She ordered Lian to collect warm water and towels.

"It's OK, you've already done this once, this one should be easy." She tried to throw an easy smile at her friend but only received a threatening glare back. OK so no joking. Aesa thought. Instead she smiled reassuringly and placed a hand on her friend's clammy forehead. "Ok now Letty let's welcome your baby to the world shall we?"

Vita grabbed her herb pouch and slung it over her shoulder before making her way to the door. Whoever was knocking was anxious and desperate. She wondered if it was Roger, Letty was due any day. As she swung open the door with a scowl upon her face, it was Cale's dirt strewn face which met her.

"Cale!" She exclaimed.

"Healer Vita, is Aesa here? I need to talk to her."

"I don't know where she is, Cale what are you doing here?"

"I need to see her. I want to ask her something." He implored desperately, as though Vita were keeping Aesa locked away.

"She really isn't here; I would bloody well tell you if she was. She put a blue pebble in the jar, which means she got called out to the village but that she should be able to handle the job on her own. Why don't you just wait here and maybe get cleaned up?"

"No. I need to find her now." He had a frantic look in his eyes.

"What is it you are so desperate to know?"

"I need to know if she will marry me." He replied before turning on his heels and running down the path. Vita could think of nothing to say as she watched him jump onto his horses back and gallop away. What are you doing standing here woman! Vita reprimanded herself before rushing after him.

Cale didn't know where to start as he cantered into the village. His head was so jumbled up; he couldn't even remember the last time he slept. Had he even slept since leaving Renfall? It didn't matter now. All that mattered was that he find Aesa. He saw Ash, the young stable hand from the village inn, and raced toward him.

"Ash!" He shouted. "Have you seen Aesa?"

"No Messenger Cale." The boy was startled and slightly scared but Cale couldn't slow, he had come this far. He went to jump off his horse when he saw her walking toward him. She was smiling sadly and it didn't look like she had seen him. He gave the reins to Ash and passed him a silver penny.

"Stable my horse for me would you Ash?"

"Of course Messenger Cale, but I don't have the right change."

"Keep it." He replied simply before walking toward Aesa. She eventually looked up and saw him. As her eyes widened he suddenly wished he had taken up Vita's offer of a wash.

"Cale." Aesa whispered breathlessly, he thanked the Watchers there was no malice in her voice.

"Aesa. I have been riding all week, I had to turn around. I don't know why I left. I am a fool."

"Cale, slow down. I don't understand you." She had reached out toward him, a worried frown on her face.

"I had to come back. I told you once that the reason I loved my job was because I had never found anywhere I thought of as home. As I was riding away I knew that I had found that place, and it is here with you." She was crying, Watchers she was so beautiful. "Please don't cry." He whispered.

"I thought I had lost you. I have written every day."

"Aesa, marry me?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" She ran and jumped into his arms. She was so small and fragile he was afraid of breaking her, but as his arms wrapped around her frame he knew he would never hurt her again.

"I love you." He whispered into her hair.

"I love you too."

Chapter 11

Vita rushed around as fast as she could on her canes, she was yelling at the top of her lungs at Ash, Malik and Jon. They were each nearing their sixteenth birthing day and had all been eager to help with the preparations for the union vows, as had most of the villagers. Aesa had been more than a little surprised at the help Renfall had given them, Vita knew that they were a fickle bunch but she was glad her niece was finally being fully accepted. The vows were to be said before the Speaker in the village centre with family, after which a party akin to the festivals, would be held with all welcome to the celebration. The boys were helping Vita decorate the Square with bouquets of purple and blue flowers, tied together with ribbon. The wooden walkway which surrounded the square was covered in the flowers, which had been made into one long wreath and twisted around and around the rails. Alfen had put chairs and tables outside, the tables were also decorated with the flowers to bring colour and life to the area. All of the stalls were leaving their doors open and people had already begun bringing their offerings of desserts and drinks, stews and soups. It was almost time. Aesa was getting ready in the Inn, Letty and Lian were with her but it was Vita's responsibility to place the wedding wreath on her head, she had woven it herself out of ivy, blue iris' and purple chamerions. It fit like a crown on Aesa's head and was to be worn for the whole day. Vita herself wore her best dress, a black bodice with a green skirt, the bodice was laced at the back with green ribbon. Before going in to see the bride she allowed herself a moment of weakness. Regret that Sana would miss this day. But Sana had tasked her with raising Aesa and being there for her, today was a happy day and she would not bloody spoil it with talk of the past and what might have been. So she took herself inside the inn, glad that the bridal party were getting ready in the small room Alfen had always kept for his family, it saved her trying to climb the darn stairs. Pushing open the door, the sight before her truly took her breath away. Aesa stood proudly, her long dark curls had been slightly plaited and pulled over one shoulder to cascade in waves; Lian had made her an ivory skirt of silk which hugged her round hips and fell to the floor in beautiful folds. The bodice she wore was of the same ivory colour, fitting her figure perfectly, it was cut square at the neck and the sleeves were cut short for the hot weather. Her eyes shone with happiness and her smile filled Vita with love.

"Child, you look beautiful." She whispered. The bridal procession made their way across the square to the centre. The rest of the village were out, standing on the wooden ramparts surrounding the square, everyone was clapping. Vita looked around at the faces before her, she saw Nanci who had stood up to Adrian all those years ago, an older and hopefully wiser Gert, whose thick hands had once grabbed Sana dragging her to her punishment. From the young to the old, the rich to the poor, everyone wore a smile. Finally, after years of speculation, whispered taunts, suspicious glares; Aesa was accepted in Renfall. The beautiful bride blushed as the thunder of applause washed over them, waving at the gathered people she released one of her ravishing smiles and in that tiny moment, the crowd were hers, and she was theirs. The hot air was pleasant on her face as they made their way across the square, Letty holding Aesa's dress slightly so as to avoid the dust covering the skirt. Above them, the clouds were gathering, preparing for a storm. That brought a smile to her face as she thought back to the day her niece had come into the world. The usually grey and lifeless building has been transformed with further garlands hanging from the roof to fall down the walls, there was nothing like a wedding ceremony to breathe life into the village. Within the oak doors was one hall which normally held a long wooden table with shelves adorning the walls. The table had been pushed back and two of the benches pulled to the end of the hall, placed before the stage which had been raised with the building's construction. Before the stage, Speaker Alfen stood smiling at their approach; he stood between Cale and Roger. Roger grinned at them all as they drifted to the end of the hall, Cale only had eyes for Aesa. He stood in a pair of brown trousers, a white shirt and brown waistcoat, his green eyes radiated love and his smile was so open and sincere that Vita blushed slightly, it was as though the rest of them were looking in on an intimate moment. As the bridal procession reached the men, Vita was supposed to, according to tradition, take Aesa's hand from her own and pass it to Cale to symbolise her passing the care of her niece to the man, but this was easier said than done. Determined not to ruin any moment of Aesa's day, she put all of her weight onto her left cane, her arm slightly trembling as she did so; with her right hand she quickly grabbed her niece's and brought it to her lips.

"You have been my life for eighteen years, it is time I shared the precious gift the Watchers have blessed me with." Aesa's brilliant blue eyes filled with tears.

"It is I who have been blessed Aunt Vita, to have one such as you watch over me." She whispered, for Vita's ears only, and as she spoke Vita felt her heart expand. Passing Aesa's tiny hand into Cale's large one, she looked up at him.

"Protect her Cale, for she is everything to me."

"With my life Vita." He replied, his hands covering Aesa's protectively.

"Darn it boy! You can call me Aunt Vita now!" She exclaimed bringing a laugh from everyone there. The bride and groom turned away, facing Alfen for the vows.

"My vow to you, my love, is to remain yours forever. In this world and the next. Whenever we are apart you will be in my thoughts, whenever you are in need I will be there to stand by you. You are my soul mate and I vow not even death shall part us." Cale spoke softly, his baritone voice toned down in reverence of the moment. She took a quick glance around the room and could see hers wasn't the only tear filled eye. The ceremony was simple, sincere and beautiful for it. The couple exchanged rings as was traditional; both gripping each other's hands as they spoke their vows. Cale had commissioned the blacksmith to create a delicate ring for Aesa, with a small stone in the centre of green and blue Vita did not know how he had done it but the colours of the stone matched the exact colouring of Cale and Aesa's eyes.

"You are now joined together in a union of life. Live it well." Alfen finished, grasping their hands in his and pulling the couple into a bear hug.

Chapter 12

Aesa closed the book upon her lap and smiled over at her two children. Arina was now four and held her baby brother closely, afraid to drop him as she gently rocked on the chair Cale had made for them. Even when Aesa had been carrying Alek her daughter had loved him dearly. Every day she had read to him lovingly, expressing how excited she was to meet her new sibling. Aesa and Cale had been married for nearly five summers and never had she felt so happy. Sighing deeply Aesa couldn't believe her life had worked out so well. After they were married Aesa and Cale had built a house in the village. Cale had left his job as a Messenger and had worked doing odd jobs. He added money to the savings he already had and eventually built an extra room to their home, this one looked out onto the street. He had promised Aesa that he would build her a library to rival those at the Palace in Jacoby. And built a library he had. He began buying books, lots and lots of books. He would sell them on to the villagers, but he also did readings and would write letters and documents for those who were unable to do so themselves. They had started off small, but the business was a success with the locals and now Aesa had her own library, just like Cale had promised. Her husband came to her side and ran a hand absentmindedly through her hair. It was a gesture which still sent her heart racing. She shifted and rested her head against his strong body. Despite how happy she was with her family, she needed his support desperately. Just that morning she had been unable to save a child from death. He had been but a boy of five, having fallen from a tree whilst playing his snapped rib had punctured one of his lungs and he had bled internally to death. Tears filled her eyes as she thought back to the desolate looks the boy's parents had given her when she had finally told them they must say their goodbyes. How could one ever survive the death of a child? All of a sudden, as though a bubble had popped and released a symphony of noise, cries echoed through the night air. Cale and Aesa shared concerned looks and both hurried outside, telling Arina to stay with her brother. A group of villagers were striding toward their home, men and women she had known all her life walked toward her with terrifying looks in their eyes. Fear and dread filled her stomach and she felt her hands begin to tremble. Aesa had had cause to see those looks before. Cale pushed her behind him and raised an arm, still clutching the axe he had been using to chop wood.

"I warn you to step no closer." He cried out, his voice clear and strong. All Aesa felt was terrified and weak. Unable to tear her gaze away, she was heartened to see that a number of the crowd were trying to pull their loved ones away. She saw Letty and Roger pushing their way through, soon standing beside her on the porch.

"We can't keep pretending Cale. That woman is a threat to us all. Just today she allowed a child to die. After a fall. A fall!" She took a glance at her husband and saw his green eyes were filled with such astonishing anger even she felt a little afraid.

"You hold your tongue or lose it. That is my wife you speak of. The boy died of a punctured lung and internal bleeding. Ask yourself if any Healer in all of Debdran could have saved him from that."

"Aye but that is just her word." Another shouted out. Voices broke out amongst the crowd, some calling for her to be stopped others crying out that she was kind hearted and fair. Please. She begged desperately, imploring the Watchers for help. Don't let this happen. Cale took one menacing step forward and many of those before him stepped back hastily.

"You call my wife a liar one more time and I will be baying for your blood Jonah. Aesa has been nothing but kind to all of you. Even after all she has been through she has remained here, saving many of you from certain death, risking her own life so as to give you all a chance at life. And you dare to threaten her? Where would you be without her?" The air was silent for a breath before people began whispering amongst themselves, some reassuring themselves they would have Vita to Heal them. Cale barked out a harsh laugh. "You presume her Aunt will remain here with you if you exile her niece? After what you did to her sister you presume she stayed here for you. My wife and I will leave before the night is through. But be assured we take our whole family with us."

"That's right." Roger spoke up reaching out to take Aesa's hand in his. Lian stepped forward and came to stand with them, followed by Roger's father Alfen and all of those who worked for him at the inn. Nanci, whom Aesa remembered at struck Adrian all those years ago, followed suit, her husband coming with her, though he looked unsure. Soon half of the crowd stood beside Aesa, lending her their support, offering her hope. Those who were left quickly lost their nerve, beginning to turn home with grumbles.

"Make no mistake. If I ever hear of anyone accusing my wife of anything but goodness, it is not her you shall have to fear." He threatened to their backs. They steps quickened. When they were finally gone Aesa felt the tears roll from her eyes and felt Cale's strong arms wrap around her.

The sound of gentle laughter roused Aesa from her musings. Even ten summers after the horde of villagers had come calling for her blood she still felt terrified they may turn on her once more. As her children had grown, so too had her fear.

"Mama, can we go and help Aunt Vita?" Arina asked, pulling the sleeves of her dress down. Her daughter was nearing fourteen summers, her legs and arms were long but the rest of her body was struggling to catch up. Aesa had no doubt her daughter would tower over her one day, but for now she was an awkward mass of limbs. Laughing she placed an arm around her eldest child's shoulders and squeezed.

"How about I take you and Alek to Aunt Vita's with some sweet bread?" Her children nodded enthusiastically. Arina was already learning the family art of healing and just like Aesa, loved spending time at her Aunt's cabin.

"Come on Alek." Arina held out her hand for her younger brother. Despite the differences between the two children, they remained fiercely protective of each other. Only the week before one of the village boys, Fredi, had mocked Arina for playing out with the boys when she should be with the girls brushing hair and dreaming up a future husband. Before Arina had made her move Alek had stepped forward and planting a kick on Fredi's shin. Aesa hid her smile at the memory of Luca dragging Arina and Alek back home, both her children still shouting for a fight. She knew that Arina got on with some of the girls of the village, mainly Nora, but they shared few interests and from a young age her daughter had spent most of her time with Luca and Daniel's younger brother Andrew, trailing along behind them. Unbeknown to her daughter, Aesa knew Andrew was growing a soft spot for Arina. With dark brown hair and blue eyes flecked with green she was a beauty, even if she didn't see it yet. Aesa also knew that no man would ever be good enough for Alek's sister. Arina picked Molly up off the table and quickly tucked her back into bed. Aesa had bequeathed the doll to her daughter on the day of her birth and she never slept without her. "Can we get Luca, Nora and Ema too?"

"We can stop by." For a number of years Nora had begun to consider herself too old for her siblings, most of her time was spent courting Daniel or with her friends Lili and Jean. Luca was quickly following suit, having passed his fourteenth birthing day he was tall and gangly with a hint of the strength he would one day possess, he was an awkward boy growing into a man. Already handsome many of the girls his age were swooning over him. At the last Winterfest poor Luca had tripped Daisy over his feet when trying to dance. The poor boy had burnt more red than a tomato. Despite his affiliation for getting into trouble with his best friend, Andrew, Luca was still the polite and caring boy he had always been. She smiled warmly, Cale had given her what she had never imagined possible for someone like her. A family of her own. Her two perfect children looked up at her smiling together expectantly, her heart swelled feeling as though it would burst out of her chest. She would do anything for these angels.

Letty eagerly ushered them inside the warm house, the delicious aroma of soup welcomed them in. Typically, Alek followed his nose and went to explore what smelt so good, his chubby fingers gripping the edge of the countertop to pull himself onto his tip toes to see better.

"Would you like some Alek? Ema! Nora!" She called and the two girls came racing out of their bedroom. Nora was sixteen and was looking more like Roger every day, with dark hair and brown eyes. The youngest of Letty's children, Ema, who was nine, had inherited all of her looks from her mother, even down to the freckles on her button nose and her fair arms. The children all settled down at the table and eyed the bowls of vegetable soup hungrily.

"Would you like some Aesa?" Letty asked.

"It does smell good!"

"Of course it does!" Alek exclaimed. "It's Aunt Letty's cooking." He spoke as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well then I had better try a bit hadn't I? I brought that book that you wanted." She pulled a small novel out of her basket and passed it to her friend.

"My favourite!" Letty cried out happily.

"It's a gift from Cale."

"Oh I couldn't! Let me give you some coins."

"Don't be silly Letty. Cale says you're the only person who ever reads it and he wants you to have it. You'll only offend him if you send me back with anything. Where's Luca?"

"He is out with Andrew. Those two are going to be the end of me. Always getting into mischief! You won't be like that will you Ema?"

"No Ma!" Ema said earnestly. Aesa noted with amusement that Alek and Ema were holding hands under the table. She nodded in their direction for the benefit of Letty who nearly spat out her water trying not to laugh.

"Maybe we'll have another family tie in a few years." Letty joked, but they both hoped that one day such a thing may just come about.

Cale groggily opened his eyes when Aesa gently kissed him on the head.

"I'll be back in a couple of days." She whispered. She still went on her trips with Aunt Vita to collect herbs, though she was a mother and wife she still had a responsibility to the village. Whilst she always missed her family terribly, she also enjoyed her trips with her Aunt. Despite seeing each other most days, the two of them had lived alone for so many years that it was difficult being apart. Aesa had asked her Aunt to move in with them, but Vita had refused, she would never leave the comfort of her trees.

"I love you." Cale murmured, pulling her back onto the bed he kissed her with such passion and devotion she was left breathless, he kissed her as though it were the last time their lips would meet. Tears sprung to her eyes and she buried her head in his neck, enjoying the feel of their hearts beating together. "I'll miss you." She gave him one last lingering kiss and then went to say goodbye to the children. She took a look into their room where they both slept quietly. Arina's dark hair had taken after her fathers, it was always perfect even in sleep. Alek had not been so fortunate, his hair was like Aesa's, thick and curly, it was plastered to his head with sweat and stuck up in funny angles, a result of him tossing in his sleep. She gave them each a quick peck on the forehead and tucked them up safely before slowly pulling the door closed, as she did so she thought her heart my burst with the love and devotion to her family. Her family. Still, years later, she found it hard to believe she was this lucky.

Chapter 13

Aesa wiped a hand across her forehead, even this close to spring the air was unusually muggy. She stopped for a moment, taking a sip of water from her canteen and offering some to her Aunt. As they caught their breaths Aesa spoke of Letty's latest exasperation with her son. Together with Andrew the two boys had decided it was a good idea to go cow tipping. Vita barked out a laugh.

"That bloody boy. Letty certainly has her hands full! At least he's off to work now so she gets some peace." Aesa's mirth ran cold as a suffocating sense of dread settled over her. Turning her gaze back the way they had come the feeling heightened.

"Aunt Vita, do you see that smoke?" Aesa asked anxiously looking toward the huge black cloud that was billowing toward the sky.

"Darn it, Aesa that looks like it is coming from-"

"Home." She whispered staring toward the sinister omen. Her stomach dropped to the floor. "Quick, we must get back!" She exclaimed, her terror filling her with energy.

"You run on without me Aesa, I'll slow you down, I'll catch you up." She was torn, it was cruel to leave Aunt Vita behind, if something were to happen to her she would be alone and helpless, she could break a cane, or stumble and twist an arm. But Aesa's family were back at Renfall, they were exactly where the ominous smoke floated upward like an arrow marking the point of something monumental. Her babies were there. And her villagers. "Just go Aesa stop wasting time." With a nod she made up her mind and sprinted back the way they had just come from. They had been walking since dawn and the sky was beginning to darken but if she ran faster than she ever had before she may make it in time to save someone. A horrible weight had settled in the pit of her stomach and she choked down panicked sobs. They would be OK; someone must have let a candle slip. Everything would be fine. No matter how many times she told herself to calm down there was another part of her screaming that she must run faster, something evil had visited her home this day, she knew it. She was not unused to running, in her profession she was often needed long before she could reach a person, but this was different, this was a desperate sprint into the unknown. It was her family, her friends and her villagers that needed her, so she ran on toward the abyss of smoke.

Aesa knew she was nearing the village when she stumbled over a body. Turning the person over Mary's dead brown eyes stared up at her. Scrambling away as fast as she could Aesa put a quivering hand across her mouth. She had beheld dead bodies before, had even held people as they passed. But never before had it been like this. Never before had she looked upon a throat exposed to the elements, a person's life blood spilled like an animal. Rushing on she was met by more bodies, each and every one a woman. Sobs racked her body and she trembled from head to foot, but she did not slow. Something truly terrifying must have sent these women running into the forest they had always feared.

"Aunt Aesa?" A tiny voice whispered but when Aesa turned around she saw no one. "Aunt Aesa." The voice was a little louder the second time, and she recognized it.

"Ema?"

"Oh it is you!" Ema clambered down from the tree next to Aesa and ran into her arms. The girl was sobbing freely, her face and hair grubby and covered in a strange white dust. "Mummy made me climb the tree, she said I had to stay here no matter what. I stayed Aunt Aesa, you will tell mummy I stayed won't you?" It took a moment for Aesa to find her voice.

"Of course I will; you're a very good girl. Where are Nora and Luca?" The tears started again as Ema shook her head.

"I don't know." She whispered. "Mummy and me were shopping, they were doing their lessons together." The child's voice wavered as she spoke and Aesa could not bring herself to question her further. Aesa knew she had to keep moving, she had to find her own family but she couldn't leave Ema alone. The silence in the forest stretched on forever, she could hear her own heart hammering against her chest. What could have happened here that had even the animals fleeing? Making up her mind she ripped a strip from the skirt of her dress and wrapped it around Ema's terrified eyes.

"I need to find your mummy ok? But I want you to keep this over your eyes. Can you do that for me? Don't take it off at all." Ema nodded as Aesa tied the makeshift blindfold around her head and lifted her up to sit on her hip. Together they continued on, fear gripped Aesa when she thought about what visions she would see this day. So far all the bodies she had seen were women. Could Letty be one of them? The answer was already in her heart, even before she saw the shock of red hair through the trees. Ema seemed to sense something as she buried her face further into Aesa's hair. Scream. All she wanted to do was scream. In the distance she heard the thud as her knees hit the floor, but she barely registered the sound nor the pain jarring up her legs. All she could think of was her best friend, whose bright green eyes, so full of life, now stared into the sky, dead. Horror, terror, disgust, they filled her stomach and settled there. She could see that Letty had been trying to return to Renfall, she must have gotten Ema out and then gone back for Luca and Nora. Her confidante, her friend, her sister, was no more. She wanted to stay with her friend she hated leaving her alone like that, slaughtered like a pig. Closing her friend's eyes for the final time, she stood and continued her journey. Perhaps there would be survivors. People who needed her help. It was an empty dream. As they neared Renfall proper, Aesa saw the small gate swinging back and forth, its creaking filled the otherwise silent air. A shiver ran down her spine, the fence surrounding the village was still intact, but that one swinging gate had been enough for desolation to hit the village that day. The smoke was rapidly getting thicker, she pulled her handkerchief from a pocket and covered her nose and mouth. It did not take long for Aesa to discover the source of the smell and the smoke. A huge burning pyre had been set up in the village square- a pile of bodies for tinder. The fierce red-orange flames licked the sky menacingly; she couldn't see any faces amidst the burning villagers. Perhaps that was a blessing. For a time Aesa lost herself in those flames. With every snap or crackle she heard the imaginary screams of the dying. It felt as though the very fabric of her life was tearing, leaving her a burning shell of what she once was. Aesa the mother and the wife was no more. Anger as cold as ice seeped through her veins unlike anything she had ever experienced before, she very nearly stepped into the pyre.

"Aunt Aesa I don't like the smell." Ema whispered. Aesa had almost forgotten the child was with her.

"I know darling, it's just a little fire." The lie did not come easily, the emotion choking her voice sent her voice wobbling, but she had to try and save Ema from this torment. This image would be forever burnt into Aesa's memory; she would not wish that upon any especially not this little one. "I just want to have a little look around to see if anyone is here." She moved as fast as she could with Ema on her hip, trying frantically to see if her Cale was one of the burning bodies, she knew it was an impossible feat. The features of the bodies were charred and black, no longer recognisable as anything other than human. She searched the village itself, from house to house. Not a single person was left. She had known this was what she would find the moment she saw Letty. The silence became overbearing and she fell to her knees once more. The fire flickered and danced in her vision, the only source of light save the moon and stars. She did not know how long she knelt there, mesmerised by the flames which even now ate at the lives of her family. It was only Ema shifting beside her, that pulled her from her stupor. There was nothing here but empty houses and burning memories. It was time to leave, return to Aunt Vita. Her mind was in a haze, she could barely string two thoughts together, but she knew if she were to leave this place then she must salvage some memories. She could only find one of Cale's old journals but it still had the book mark he had given her all those summers before. There was little else she was able to carry within their belongings. She folded the picture Arina had drawn for Alek for his birthday, and placed it inside the book. Her fingers trembled as she did so and tears splashed onto the paper. She could find little else amidst their belongings. Everything else was ransacked, whomever had committed this crime had travelled through the village massacring anything in their path, people, belongings, animals. Aesa quickly rushed over to Letty's home one last time and searched quickly. All she could take was a letter Roger had written for Letty declaring his love for her. Aesa just knew her friend would have wanted Ema to have it. It was as she hurried past the pyre she saw it. Molly; dropped a foot from the fire. Swallowing both the bile that rose in her throat and the scream that was waiting to be unleashed, she took Molly in her free hand, clutching the doll as though it were actually her child's hand she clung on to. Reluctantly, she turned her back on her home, her villagers, her family. All that was left was a burning shell. A ghost town.

Paying no attention to where she stepped it was no surprise that they stumbled more than once. Eventually Ema gave up and climbed down from Aesa's arms.

"Where are we going Aunt Aesa? Didn't you find mummy and daddy?"

"Not yet. We are going to see Aunt Vita." Her voice was mundane, dead. They walked the rest of the way in silence. There was simply no energy within Aesa to comfort Ema, which only left her feeling worse. After hours of walking they eventually heard something, a sign of life. She desperately wanted to call out, find Aunt Vita and have her make everything alright. But all she had witnessed that day cautioned her. It was as she decided to follow the sound before making her position known that she realized the sun was rising once again and that Ema was dragging her feet, her eyes almost shut. Without a word she lifted the girl up before tiredness dragged her down, and followed the sound. Relief flooded Aesa as she saw Vita slowly pulling herself along the path, her arms visibly trembling with the effort.

"Aunt Vita." She whispered running toward her, a sudden burst of energy shooting through her limbs. Her Aunt almost collapsed at the sight of her and as the three embraced they fell to the floor. Silent sobs wracked Aesa's body as Vita took Ema in her arms. "Let's find somewhere to rest." She said simply before Ema could fall asleep. Once more Aesa took the girls weight in her arms and led her Aunt through the forest to a more concealed camp.

Vita had been nervous Ema would be too afraid to sleep, but as they had set her down on the floor it had taken mere seconds for her to drift off in her exhaustion. Aunt and niece stared into each other's eyes wordlessly.

"Everyone is gone." Aesa muttered eventually, her voice cold, lifeless.

"I don't understand. We were gone but a day, what could have happened?" Her niece must be mistaken; a whole village did not just disappear.

"There was a fight of some sort. As I neared Renfall I was met by bodies. Dead bodies of the women from home. Letty was one of them." Vita wanted to scream at her she was lying, but the defeat in Aesa's voice was all the confirmation needed. She took hold of her niece's hands.

"Please Aesa, tell me what happened." Vita gently rubbed the back of her Aesa's hand. It had always soothed her as a child. Aesa nodded once, though her haunted eyes spoke of her reluctance to relive it.

"Like I said, I saw the women first. Not all of the women of the village but about fifteen. It looks like they were trying to run away, I found it strange that they had no children with them. People like Letty, she would never have left Luca and Nora, I know she wouldn't have. Never. But it was only the women. I think maybe, they tried to escape with their children, maybe the children got away I don't know. Deep down I know this is not the case, but we can hope can't we? Letty had told Ema to hide, she must have been going back for the others. Ema stayed up her tree until she saw me. The village itself was empty. There was no one left. There were signs of a fight, weapons from swords to kitchen knives. But there was no one left." Whoever the monsters were they must have burnt the village for good measure. Vita thought. Burnt everything to the ground. "The fire was one colossal pyre." That stopped Vita's train of thought straight away. "They had piled everyone from the village and set fire to the lot of them. I couldn't even make out any of their faces Vita." Vita desperately wanted to soothe Aesa's pain, but as she opened her mouth to speak she couldn't find her voice. When Aesa placed Molly on her lap a fraught sob filled the silence, it took a moment for Vita to recognise her own cries. "They are all gone." Aesa concluded, her hand gripped the doll tenaciously. Vita could do nothing but cry. Not even her rage compared to her sorrow.

Chapter 14

"Where are we going now?" Ema asked over their cold dinner of bread and cheese. "To find mummy and daddy?" Aesa shared a look with Vita. She could not comprehend the idea of never seeing her family again, how could this child. She wanted nothing more than to get up and walk away. Leave everything behind and simply walk. Follow the monstrous beings who had destroyed her life and obliterate them. She took Molly from her own lap and placed her into Ema's little hands.

"I'm sorry Ema, but mummy and daddy aren't coming back." She whispered.

"Where are they?"

"They have gone to the Blessed Isles darling. Did mummy ever tell you what they are?" Ema nodded, tears brimming in her knowing eyes.

"That's where angels go. When you die, if you are good you go to the Blessed Isles."

"That's right. Mummy and daddy are angels now."

"What about Luca and Nora? And Arina and Alek? Where is Uncle Cale?" Hearing her family's names left her throat burning with unshed tears. But Ema was hurting too.

"They are all together on the Isles."

"But I want them to be here." She stated obviously, like saying it would suddenly make it so.

"Do you remember this doll Ema?"

"It's Arina's doll, she lets me play with her. I always liked her because she has mummy's hair."

"Well, Molly used to be your mum's. I know Arina would want you to have her. You'll look after her won't you?"

"Really? I promise I will Aunt Aesa. I won't ever let her go." Aesa hugged her, too afraid she would start sobbing if she said another word. The thought of Arina losing her doll when she would already have been so terrified was too much to bare. All she could hope was that they had not suffered and that they had, at least, had each other at the end.

"I am going to go after them." Aesa said in barely more than a whisper, her eyes locked on the dying fire, within the flickering flames she saw the burning bodies of her people.

"And do what? Kill them with your bloody herb pouch?" Vita muttered harshly.

"If that is all I have then that is what I will do. They are my children Aunt Vita; I would have died for them."

"I know child, but if we are smart about this, maybe we can get help." Aesa looked into her Aunt's eyes questioningly. "We need to know who did this, was it another village? The King himself?" Aesa closed her eyes and thought back to the village. In her mind she witnessed the scene she wished never to see again, the pyre, the doll, Letty's eyes. There had been swords on the floor, but they were of decent quality, nothing a fellow village would be privy to. The houses ransacked, all of the food stores gone, not done to send a message to the south, but to preserve an army on the move. And marks through the dirt, like bodies had been dragged, leading to the pyre. Whoever had done this had burnt the men and the children, leaving the women were they lay. That suggested some sort of symbolic meaning, a new religion perhaps?

"Watchers! Aunt Vita, I think Debdran has been invaded." She explained what she remembered.

"Then we need to get word to the others."

"I doubt we will get there in time, I fear that Debdran is already lost." As she spoke they heard a noise in the distant, a light banging that drew closer to their spot. The two women looked at each other knowingly, and made a hasty retreat away from the road way, Aesa pulled Ema with her. Thankfully the child knew not to make a sound, as they moved behind the trunk of an oak she put her face in the folds of Aesa's skirt. Aesa placed a hand on the back of the child's head, offering what comfort she could. The menacing noise grew like a river that was starting to burst through the dam holding it back. "We can't see a bloody thing!" Vita muttered angrily glancing around the oak. Aesa searched about for a way to cover them from whatever drew nearer. The tree to their left had huge roots which came in and out of the ground. It could be their salvation.

"Quick, beneath the roots, I will cover you with debris and hide in the branches. Hopefully whatever it is will pass us by." Vita nodded, thankfully not stopping to question. Ema crawled into the dirt with a terrified yet determined expression that brought a flicker of emotion into Aesa's chest. She was proud of the little one. Once they were covered to the best of her ability, Aesa hiked her skirts up and clambered as fast and high as she could into the branches, praying the thick leaves would cover her from searching eyes. When she was as high as she dared go, her head spun and it quickly dawned on her that if she fell there was not a single herb in hers nor her Aunt's pouch that could save her. It was a horrifyingly appealing thought. The banging drowned out all thought and she peered through the leaves. What she saw forced her heart into her throat and caused her stomach to drop. Hundreds, no thousands of black armoured people marched in strict formation through the forest. The path was only wide enough for one cart to pass through, so the men and women strode in lines of four, but they extended on for an eternity. From her vantage point it looked as though a huge black snake was slithering through the forest. Never before had she seen so many people. Swords swung from their hips and she could see that in the centre of the mass were a contingent of horses, astride a magnificent white beast with a jet black mane, was a striking woman with olive skin and dark hair, she was not dressed in armour, instead she wore a black gown which seemed fit for a ball, silken material which clung to her athletic figure with a split to the very top of her thigh so that her bare legs were out. Her shimmering black hair was shaved on both sides but for the centre which had grown to her waist and was tied with a golden circlet. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that this woman led those who marched across Aesa's homeland, slaughtering and pillaging as they went. Her heart twisted with hate and not a little fear. Every ounce of her being wanted to throw herself from the tree and rip the woman's heart out with her bare hands, maybe then she would know how Aesa had felt as she entered the ghostly shell of Renfall. But the image of Ema crawling through the dirt, terrified yet defiant, stayed her hand. She must live so as to give Letty's child a chance at survival. The woman pulled sharply on the reins, causing her guards and advisors to turn back suddenly.

"We are not alone." She spoke, her voice carrying to Aesa who inhaled sharply, trying to bury herself deeper into the branches. "Come mariti do not be afraid." She spoke with a rich accent and a tone which said she was used to being listened to, when nobody moved, she turned her head to the left, the opposite of Aesa's position, holding out a hand with long slender fingers and nails which were filed into claws. A swirl of dust grew by the horse's feet, but he did not buckle in fear, the woman twisted her fingers, as though it were she who was manipulating the wind, it took off in the direction everyone was now looking at.

"No! Let me go witch!" A terrified voice cried out, a young man, barely sixteen summers, was pulled out of the trees by the wind, it whipped around him, his clothes being pulled this way and that, his blond hair flying before his eyes so that he repeatedly swiped it out of the way trying to get a better look at his captor. The woman tutted as she jumped from the horses back. She must have stood nearly six feet in height and was able to look down at the boy.

"That is no way to speak to a Lady, and certainly no way to speak to me boy." Aesa's heart thundered in her chest, she had just witnessed magic. Using one of her claw like nails the woman gently stroked the boy's face. "You are a handsome one, would be a shame to kill you. I think I would like to keep you boy."

"You killed my family!" He screamed, struggling to get away from the invisible bond which held him firmly before her. "You witch!" She slapped him, hard enough to draw blood.

"I warned you. Didn't I warn him?" She asked the man beside her. He wore the black armour, but his helmet held a plume of white, marking him, no doubt, as an important member of the army.

"Aye, now decide if you want to kill him or keep him, our men will be halfway to the capital by now." The woman gripped the boy's face in her fingers, pulling it close to hers.

"Seeing as we are in a hurry I simply won't have time to play. Pity." She spoke, kissing the boy deeply on the lips before pushing him to the ground where he stared up at her incredulously, confusion and anger evident in his eyes. But he was given no time to recover, quick as an adders attack, the woman swept her two hands, palms facing each other, and just like that the boy was decapitated. Bile rose in Aesa's throat as she looked down at the blood soaking the ground, at the poor boys glazed expression in his dead eyes. Wiping her hands on her skirt as though touching him had made her dirty, the woman climbed back atop her beast and nodded at her men to continue. It took over an hour for all of the army to pass by, as the final black armoured creature disappeared in the distance, Aesa's cold arms nearly gave way, but she held on and climbed back down.

They were deep in the Bewychwood forest, usually a comfort to Aunt Vita, but today Aesa could see how uneasy her Aunt was. Wherever the animals had fled to with the invaders approach, they had not yet deemed it safe enough to return. They had barely spoken as they moved away from the tree which had concealed them and hidden them from certain death, but Aesa knew Vita had heard every word which had been spoken by the strange magical woman. Now they sat before a small camp fire, Ema asleep on the ground, holding onto Molly as fiercely as she did when awake. Aesa stared into the embers as tiny dots of red and orange spat out onto the ground. "Aesa. I need to tell you something, and for once, I don't have the words." Vita said suddenly, her blue eyes red from crying but they shone with intelligence and sincerity.

"What is it?"

"Do you remember what happened to your father?"

"Of course. Not a day goes by I don't remember what that despicable man did. Is it really the right time to talk about such things?" Aesa asked.

"It doesn't matter if it's the right time or not. There is no other time. That's just it Aesa. What he did to Sana was despicable. It was cowardly and treacherous beyond imagination but he did not do what you believe he did."

"Listen Aunt Vita, I appreciate all that you have done for me, but I really do not have time for cryptic messages and half-truths. If you have something to say just bloody say it." She did not stop looking into the fire, could not rouse the curiosity to look at Vita.

"Aesa. You're father never had any powers. He wasn't a witch."

"Vita I really don't know what you're talking about. My father was evil, he let my ma be punished for his sins."

"My sins Aesa. Not Adrian's or Sana's. Mine!" Aesa couldn't think of anything to say. Could her Aunt really be telling her it was her fault she had no family. It was her fault Aesa had had to watch as her mother was forced from the land- exiled with only her memories for comfort.

"You." She said simply. It was the first time she had heard any sort of emotion in her voice since she Renfall.

"I am a witch Aesa."

"Did my mother know? Did she know she was paying for your sins?"

"Of course she bloody knew. And I know you don't think possessing magic is a sin. I taught you better than that. Your mother and I are both witches. I lost control of my abilities once, your Ma, she was telling me about how Adrian had been hitting her. At that moment I felt such a profound love for my sister, such a determination to protect her, that I lost control. I started a small fire that someone saw. They thought they were seeing Sana. She never told them the truth. We both knew if I had stepped in we would have been lashed to the pyre together." For three centuries those accused of witchery lived on the promise of something better. A place they could be free. But of course there was a catch; no one knew where this mystical place was. No one ever returned. "She is alive Aesa I know she is."

"How can you say that?!" She had not planned on shouting, but the passion and pain was evident in her cry. Everything she had ever believed was a lie. But Adrian was still cruel. He had turned on Sana with a click of his fingers, the truth hadn't mattered to him, only the lie. He had beaten Aesa when she cried out for her lost mother. He had beaten her for just about anything. But had he deserved to die? She knew now that Vita had been punishing him for his crimes against her family. First he betrayed Sana, Sana had been Vita's life. Then he had hurt Aesa herself. She had to admit that whatever she thought of Vita at that point, she knew her Aunt loved her.

"I can feel her." That statement certainly brought her out of her thoughts. Feel her. Maybe Vita had gone mad, all of the heartache in her life had taken its toll. "Ever since we were young we were able to sense each other. I knew where she was and she me, we never queried it, nor did we ever tell a soul bar our mother. It wasn't until my accident that we knew it was something more than just twin senses." Aesa held her breath, she had never known what had happened to Vita's legs. She had known that there must have been some sort of tragedy but she knew not what it was. "Sana had been out with your father. They were courting at the time, we were both nearing fifteen and so looking for suitable husbands. We always said we would marry on the same day, get pregnant at the same time, our children would be best friends. All of the usual nonsense from girls looking for love. I could sense that Sana had walked further than she should have done but I did not tell our mother. I went to meet her, like I always did after her days courting. We could always tell when we were nearing each other and so could work out where we would meet. I was on my way when I felt a sudden rising panic. My stomach flew into my mouth. Without thinking I ran. You know the wooden bridge over the river to the east of the village?" Aesa nodded, her mother had always hated that bridge. She had made Aesa promise never to go near it unless she had no other choice. There was a twenty foot drop to the river below. A horrible sickly feeling grew inside her as she realised where the story was heading. "It used to be an old rope bridge, nobody thought anything of it. Nobody ever thought it was dangerous. But I knew as I ran that Sana had reached the bridge. As I finally made it there I couldn't see it, it had disappeared. But I could hear Sana screaming for help. One side of the bridge had snapped, worn away in age. It was hanging down the rock face. My dear Sana was holding on for her life, the water below her a deadly flood. Without thinking I climbed down, she said she had twisted her arm, I could see that the bone was at a funny angle. It took all my strength to pull her up and push her ahead of me so she could clamber over the edge. She reached back to help me but I had no strength left. I fell."

"Aunt Vita-"

"It is in the past. The Healer of the village, my predecessor as it happens, set my bones incorrectly, they healed wrong and I have never walked on them since. It was that day that Sana and I first discovered the extent of our gift. She felt it. As I hit the water and the bones in my legs snapped I heard her answering scream. The pain was excruciating but that scream pierced my heart like an arrow. I never truly knew how she must have felt that day, the terror of feeling such intense pain but having nothing to show for it. Until the day she gave birth to you. Trying to deliver a baby whilst you feel like you're giving birth yourself. Let's just say it was difficult." Aesa had to admire her Aunt, changing her tone so dramatically; she couldn't help but smile a sad smile.

"Thank you Aunt Vita. For telling me everything."

"Not everything dear. Not yet. But for now I think that is enough. The important thing is Sana is alive. Which means there are people out there who can help us. We must go to Passage Point and travel to Sana. There may be something we can do for Debdran."

"All I want to do is lie down and give up." Aesa whispered. The memories of all she had seen flooding through her. "What is there left to live for." As she said those words Ema silently crawled into her lap and wrapped her little arms around her neck. Aesa had not even noticed the girl stirring.

"I love you Aunt Aesa."

Keeping as quiet as possible seemed easy, but every time she drew a breath Aesa imagined the invaders hearing and turning as one, marching right toward them, blades sharpened and ready to slaughter. They would be helpless. At the thought she squeezed Ema's little body closer protectively. They were so close to Passage Point, Vita guessed that they would reach the small beach by nightfall. They had passed three villages, each and every one a ghost town. They had met the same soul shattering scenes in each new place, women slaughtered trying to flee their homes, the remains of burning pyres, the invaders had raided the houses, most food had been taken but they were able to salvage some preserved food, most of the crops had been left, the raiders had been too eager to reach the next defenceless village to take the time to dig up more food. Aesa and Vita had discussed this, it seemed the element of surprise was vital for the invaders, they had thought about trying to go ahead, attempting to reach the next villages before those who were slaughtering all in their path. But the truth was their group was made up of a child, a crippled lady and Aesa, those they would be racing against were experienced soldiers, with horses and supplies. All they would do is destine themselves to die with their people. If they could get help, they may be able to save the country from falling completely. So they fished and hunted, cooking, drying and salting the meat. By the time they would reach Passage Point they should have enough food to keep them going for some time. That was what they thought, in truth they had no idea how long they would be at sea, they had no idea if they would make it to the other side. The thirst for revenge was so powerful, there were times when Aesa found herself staring back the way they had come. Her thoughts consumed with plans for following those who had stolen her life and returning the honour. Whilst Vita wanted revenge too, she knew they would do nothing if they acted now. They needed help. Though she knew her Aunt was right Aesa struggled to motivate herself to follow. She wanted to act now, if they travelled to another land they may never return and she may never get her chance. But the truth was that they did not know who they were up against. They had glimpsed the enemy, row after row of regimented tyrants, and they knew that these were the second storm, those who had come before had already begun desecrating homes and lives, like they had done in Renfall. They would be making their way to the capital, to the royal family. At least the cities would have time to prepare themselves, a blessing her own villagers had not had. The tell-tale scent of salt water told her they were close, as they reached the hills rise the crystal clear sea stretched out below them into the distance.

"Wow." Ema whispered in awe instantly climbing down from Aesa's arms and rushing down the hill toward the water.

"Ema wait for us." She had to admit it was stunning, she remembered the first time she had seen the sea. She had been distraught after her mother's exile, she would scream and sob and cry for her mother and Letty would hold her and sooth her in whatever way she could. One day her friend had robbed bread and cheese from her own mother and they had run away. It had been her friend's way of consoling her, showing her where her mother had gone. Aesa had been glad that her mother got to see such a beautiful sight, one glimpse of something serene amongst the chaos. The white sand stretched, both to the east and west. To the east, possibly a two hour hike away they could make out the bodies of huge ships, black like the death they had brought upon this country. As Ema ran back to them Aesa knelt down and beckoned her closer. "You know Ema, your mummy and me came here when we were little."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I'm glad mummy saw it."

"Me too Ema." Aesa felt a new type of bond forming between her and the child. They may have been different in so many ways- age, looks even personality, but they were bonded through heart break. That kind of connection was stronger than any other. Vita seemed lost in her own thoughts, no doubt she was marvelling at the beauty, or remembering the last time she had stood in this spot, it had been different then Aesa knew. Vita had been saying goodbye to her sister forever. Well, at least it had been forever. Aesa was unsure how she felt about seeing her mother again, it simply didn't seem possible. It was surreal. There was no excitement at the prospect, she doubted there was enough feeling left in her for any form of happiness. Her mother had left her alone, she had done so to save her sister but at what cost for her daughter?

Chapter 15

The three unlikely survivors of an all-out invasion made their way to the small, aged shed which stood by the waterside; its wooden frame was covered in green mulch, giving it the look as though it had risen from the sea it stood beside. The shed was large enough to hold four boats at a time, after each Passage the boat was replaced using the money the family had used to purchase the freedom of their relative, atop the double doors which creaked when moved, was a worn plaque intoning safe passage for those who had been forced to venture here. It was intended to invoke calmness, but as the three women looked upon the small boat with a sail little bigger than the length of a skirt, the wood looked as aged as the building they resided within, it was not a calm feeling which sent tremors through Aesa's stomach. However, there was nothing for it. They had come this far. And so, with Vita and Ema safely inside Aesa pushed the boat out into the water and their journey finally began in earnest.

Part 2: Elindor

Chapter 1

Lady Ezhra'lí and her companions crested the rise of the hilltop giving them their first full view of Imindra. Despite the city being a second home to Ezhra'lí the sight still stole the breath from her lips. A truly magnificent place to govern the rest of Elindor; just gazing upon the white walls of the Palace brought patriotism to her mind. The palace itself resided on an island on the Lake Midrian, a long white crystal bridge led to the gates, on the surrounding countryside Imindra was built, wrapping around nearly half of the lake, it was known as the White City, for the pure colour of the walls. A city of white walls and colourful flags, haphazard streets and narrow lanes, built over the years to the thriving centre of the kingdom it was today. The three of them stopped for a moment looking down on the city, from here the sounds were distant and with the sun just reaching its midday height the walls were bathed in pure light, it gave the place a celestial feel and filled Ezhra'lí with hope for the future of her people. Matlok let out a low whistle.

"Ain't that a sight." He murmured almost to himself.

"Have you never seen Imindra before?" She asked inquisitively, they had travelled together for nearly ten days but he had never spoken of his home, nor very often his past.

"Never my Lady, glad I got to see it." She nodded her agreement, hearing the meaning behind his words. Their country was at war, and they were losing. Matlok was glad to have seen such a place before he died. She knew the feeling well. Death lingered over them all like a shadow.

"How about you Kadon? Have you seen the capital before?" She asked her other companion, he had been much more forthcoming with life stories and though she was loath to admit it, he had made the journey more interesting.

"Once my Lady, just before I conscripted into the army my father took me on one of his trips, he is a trader, a master wood crafter. I was supposed to take over from him so he brought me here to show me the ropes. We joined the army together, though both me and my Ma told him he was too old, he should leave the fighting to the new generation. Never would listen my father. He died three days in." Kadon cleared his throat and in the motion Ezhra'lí could hear the unshed tears he clung to. "He died a soldier's death, brave unto the end." She reached over and placed a hand on his forearm, a gentle squeeze and a smile was all it took. His gaze softened and he smiled at her. "That was before you came." She laughed.

"I am hardly the saviour Kadon, but I appreciate your support."

"You should be proud my friend, your father was a soldier worthy of highest praise. My father is nothing but a coward." Matlok spat before kicking his heels into his horse's flanks and the spell holding them in place was broken. Together, the unlikely group rode toward Imindra. Matlok a young human with serious eyes, long and lean he was one of the fastest humans she had witnessed, and his tracking was second to none, even she had to consent to his judgement. Kadon was smaller and wider, with light blond hair and an easy smile, he had been a joy for the journey. Ezhra'lí was so often in her own thoughts and Matlok had a brooding personality, they needed Kadon to lighten the mood. But he had been selected for another reason, his magical Ability to sense danger in the air, between his Ability, Matlok's unique tracking skills and Ezhra's elven ears and sight, they had made great time in getting to Imindra with little fuss. She pushed her long slender fingers into her hair, though it was braided golden strands always escaped to pester her. Being a Captain in the Elindorian army, Ezhra'lí maintained only one indulgence, her thick hair was golden red in colour and nearly reached her knees in length. As the trio rode closer to the city they came across dwellings, country folk who travelled to the city for trade and other such needs, but mostly kept to themselves. They rode close to one such dwelling where a child, no older than five summers stared at them in awe. After taking in first the swords at their hips he then looked up into Ezhra'lí's eyes, she saw fear and curiosity in equal mix shining from his own eyes and instantly knew why. He was looking, perhaps for the first time, upon eyes almond in shape and turned up in the corners, teemed with pointed ears there was no mistaking her as an elf. With Ezhra'lí's trademark hair and the fact she bore a sword despite being a female, he would know her as Lady Ezhra'lí, Captain in the army, a powerful Weaver and member of the royal court. She raised her hand in greeting and he grinned widely at her, finding the courage to wave back. As they rode out of sight she let out a sigh. She missed the days when she was simply Ezhra, the only daughter of Lord Haroun and Lady Rhaenion, surrounded by five brothers whom she loved dearly, and two friends who meant everything to her. Princess Faelyn, closer to her younger brothers age but still a dear friend to Ezhra'lí. And, of course, Prince Evindäl. For just a moment Lady Ezhra'lí closed her eyes to the world and simply remembered a time gone by.

The journey through the city took less time than she had thought, although the streets bustled with activity they were lucky to steer their way through the traffic with no incidents. The sky was clear and the Sun Goddess, Aodolys, beat down relentlessly. Dust stirred by the horses hooves settled on their clothes and in their hair, it looked to have been some time since Imindra had seen rain. As they approached the towering archway that led to the bridge a Palace Guard stepped forward, he wore the uniform due his station, dark blue dress shirt with fitted black trousers, his forearms were heavy with both muscle and wiry black hair and his grin was friendly.

"Lady Ezhra'lí, what an unexpected pleasure!"

"Good afternoon Rufus. How do you fare?"

"As well as can be this far from the fighting but the missus is glad of it." She smiled warmly, Rufus was barely twenty five summers yet he looked older than her by years, she remembered him when he was but a child, his mother had been a baker in the palace kitchens.

"Has she given birth yet?"

"Another week the medics say, she is awful uncomfortable in this heat mind you, she'll be glad when the little one makes their entrance."

"I wish you all the best Rufus, we shall make our own way from here though I am sure the Queen would appreciate some prior notice." She prompted the young man and with a quick nod he muttered to his comrade and set off at a run. Kadon did not want to tear his eyes away from the scene around him, she could see he was marvelling at the incredible construction that was the Crystal Bridge, she kept her eyes on him, basking for a moment in his innocence and genuine nature. He turned his eyes back to her with a grin.

"That in itself was worth the trip up here."

"Have we been that bad companions?" Matlok asked with a wry grin. The two were friends, they seemed to bring a sense of balance to their conflicting personalities. Ezhra'lí also took another look at the bridge, made from flawless white crystal, it appeared to have simply grown from the ground and spanned to the island, whilst white in colour it was a milky substance, when you looked at your feet it was possible to see the water beneath, she had always found it rather symbolic. To reach the governing seat one must cross over the ever present water, it served as a reminder that the elven monarchy were just that- ever present. King Elmon had sat on his throne for five hundred years, and had lived for more than a thousand, though to human standards he looked no more than three decades. His father, the king before him had eventually abdicated the throne after five hundred years. Time spanned differently for her kind, it was a quality which was reviled by many humans, who lived in jealousy over their immortality. Ezhra'lí saw it differently, especially now in time of war, death and devastation; all that a long life meant was eons of grieving, of looking back at all that could have been and remembering that one defining moment, that one breath which changed the course of time and pushed you down a different path. If her love were to die in this war and she survive, that gave her a never ending life of pain and heartache.

"Shall we go?" Matlok asked her, his dark brown eyes searching hers, seeing if she was alright.

"Yes yes of course." She replied, nudging her horse with her boot heel. As they approached the end of the Crystal Bridge and passed beneath the gates wrought with the symbol of the monarchy, a single willow tree atop a small island at the centre of a lake, she felt as though she were home again. The white walls of the palace rose up above them into towers and arch ways which sent her head spinning when she looked to see the top of the spires.

At the top of the immense steps leading up to the palace doors, Queen Edraele stood regally waiting for them to reach her. She stood composed, her shoulders back and head held high looking down on them as they approached. She wore an expensively cut gown in the latest fashion but missed the jewels that many noble women elected to wear. Queen Edraele needed no such finery. Her raven coloured hair was piled on her head in plaits, and her round blue eyes missed nothing as they made their approach. Ezhra'lí was sure that to anyone else Edraele would look as though she had been stood in that very spot all day, but Ezhra'lí's eyes were sharp and she could make out the slight beads of sweat which had formed at the top of her Queen's forehead, the rise and fall of her chest was slightly heavier than normal; no, Ezhra'lí knew the Queen had rushed here to be sure to meet them as they entered. As they reached the top step all three companions knelt on one knee and bowed their heads.

"Rise and be welcome." Her powerful voice commanded.

"My Queen, please may I present my companions, Matlok and Kadon. We are grateful for your warm welcome."

"Of course you are welcome. Any friend to Lady Ezhra'lí is a friend to the Kingdom. We received no word of your visit." She spoke as though this was simply a statement but Ezhra could hear the question behind her words. It was unusual for a member of nobility to travel to the palace without first sending a squire to inform the royals, even in times of war decorum was maintained.

"We may stay for one night only, a fleeting visit." Edraele turned to the aide behind her, a man dressed in a blue tunic embossed with the royal crest.

"Henri could you please take Matlok and Kadon to the men's quarters and bring them anything they desire. Gentleman, please treat my home as if it were your own. Dinner will be served at sundown, I will have someone collect you and show you the way." The two men glanced briefly at Ezhra'lí and she gave them an encouraging smile before they followed Henri. "My dear Ezhra, we have missed you." The Queen said warmly once they were alone.

"I have missed you too."

"Now come, we shall go to your room and I will call for a bath with your favourite scents, and of course Faelyn will want to see you straight away." As they walked into the palace, Edraele took Ezhra'lí's arm in hers and held her close, as though afraid she would disappear again.

Chapter 2

Princess Faelyn tried not to rush through the palace, but her excitement was getting the better of her. Her slippered feet were silent on the thick carpets so she hoped her run wouldn't attract too much attention, her mother did not like her to be seen acting without proper decorum, not now she was of age to marry. She was right of course, mother always was, but that didn't mean she had to like it nor listen. As she neared Ezhra's rooms she slowed her approach so as not to give the game away and knocked politely. Within two breaths the double oak doors had been swung open and Ezhra stood before her, her golden hair tied back in her plait with long strands falling out and tickling her face, her skin had a sheen of dust across it and there was a thin white scar on her eye which was new, but Ezhra was there, looking at her, smiling at her, completely unhurt, minus the odd scar. A burst of laughter escaped her lips and she threw her arms around her friend.

"I missed you too!" Ezhra exclaimed, her beautiful laugh joining in. Ezhra pulled Faelyn into the room and shut the door, she could see her mother was also smiling, but before she could greet her Edraele glanced at her, raised one perfectly arched eyebrow and spoke.

"You were running." It was not a question, it was a statement of fact and left no room for Faelyn to deny the allegation. She simply nodded, her thick dark curls fell around her face as she bowed her head. "Come here child, we are all excited today." A beautiful and slightly mischievous grin lit up her Mother's face and Faelyn rushed to her for an embrace. This felt normal, the three of them sat in Ezhra's quarters, the soft red chairs were worn slightly from use and there was a small and welcoming fire in the hearth. A silver tray with tea sat on the table. The only thing missing was Lady Rhaenion, but she was a two day journey away and would be one of the few who would miss her daughters visit. "Now Ezhra, come sit, tell us of your journey." And that was where the reminiscing came to an end, for in the past it would not been talks of war and peril that had filled their hours, it had been discussions on dresses, fashions, possible marriages, books and philosophy, plans for the future of Elindor. And when it had just been Faelyn and Ezhra, they had talked of her brother, Evindäl, and Ezhra's love for him, how they would one day be sisters and Ezhra's children would call Faelyn Nei-Nei, the Old Tongue for Aunt. They had considered themselves blessed to be so close, to be friends and know that they also shared a love for Evindäl.

"I am sure he will have written to you, but Evindäl is at the School of Enlightenment, he is hoping to find something in the history books there of what we face. It is impossible to believe that they can know so much of our land and our people, yet we cannot find a whisper of their nature, their powers or their history."

"I can't believe I forgot to tell you, Evindäl is in the Palace, he has been for the last fourteen days." Faelyn told Ezhra quickly, chastising herself for not telling her sooner. She saw a flicker of emotion in Ezhra's emerald green eyes, and then she was composed once more.

"Have we learnt nothing more?" Edraele asked.

"We learn as we fight, and it is not helping our odds. Their Mage's use a different power to what we know. Where we use Abilities given to us by Aodolys, their power seems to be built from a darker existence, we have taken to calling it Dark Conjuring, as that is what they appear to do. In some ways they are more limited than us, however in other ways they are far more advanced. Where I can manipulate the five elements to do my bidding, they seem able to conjure the elements, they can be a thousand miles from a source of water and yet some of their more powerful Conjurers can bring forth water enough to drown a man. But we know little more than that." Faelyn couldn't help the shiver from running down her spine at Ezhra's words and then they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Ezhra called for the person to enter and a maid came in and began drawing a bath.

"We shall come back later, give you time to bathe and rest." Edraele said. Ezhra closed her eyes gratefully, and in that gesture Faelyn saw the strain her friend was under. It was difficult to imagine what Ezhra's eyes had seen but she had heard enough stories to know what to expect and for one fleeting moment, she too let her mask drop. She gave her friend a look which said it all, how sorry she was for the sights Ezhra must have seen, how saddened she was that her people were dying by the day whilst she sat in her palace waiting for the next messenger to bring them news. And then the mask slipped back into place, and she was once more a composed Princess of Elindor.

Chapter 3

Ezhra'lí stared out of the high arched windows of her chambers, to the West Aodolys had begun to make her steady descent, conceding the night sky to the watchful eyes of her brother, Fealos the Moon. In this place, at this time, she always felt at peace. The mountains soared above her, their foreboding stare could be intimidating, but her home was nestled in the foot of those mountains, and all she felt when she looked up at the face was comfort and peace; for in the face of the mountain something stirred within her. She was of those rocks, she was one with the forests that surrounded the base, she was kin to the animals who lived and died on the mountain, and she was one of the mysteries within the mist that shrouded the top half of the slopes. She had many fond memories of hiking to the top, her Mother would shake her head in disbelief as Ezhra'lí quickly donned leggings and tunics in place of dresses, following her brothers out on their many excursions.

"I prayed to Aodolys for a girl, but I swear you are more of a handful than your brothers combined!" Rhaenion would exclaim, often muttering that the Gods had an ironic sense of humour. But she would always look at her only daughter with love and affection in her eyes and Ezhra'lí had been fortunate to grow up knowing only love from her mother, though often tainted with exasperation. Lady Rhaenion was a proud elf, and well loved by magical and non-magical folk. Having produced six healthy children, she was somewhat a marvel amongst the elven community who would normally reproduce only once or twice throughout their whole existence. When she allowed herself to think on the matter, Ezhra'lí knew the truth was that she missed her Mother. Immaculate chestnut brown hair, copper coloured highlights which shone in the sun, even when chasing after six children she never had a strand out of place, and she had the most piercing green eyes, the kind which could render her children speechless and illicit confessions for even their more naughty pranks. Her younger brother, Elion, had always been able to withstand the glare better than the rest of them, but then he seemed to have been born with a certain flare of mischievousness. A light knock interrupted her musings and she was glad to see Maryse enter. Smiling warmly she said "Well met Maryse." The maid had started working in the Palace when both of them were very young.

"And to you Lady Ezhra'lí, the Palace has been a lonely place without your company." Her arms itched to hug the maid, like the old friend she was, but she knew Maryse well, and so held back. Her friend was nothing if not a firm believer in proprietary; Ezhra'lí had often wondered if her being assigned to Ezhra's rooms whenever she stayed was a conspiracy cooked up by Rhaenion and Edraele to remind her of how ladies should act. Her old friend was the only person she was close to who refused to call her by her preferred name, Ezhra. Even her own mother had eventually consented.

"I am glad to see you well old friend." She said instead and a hoarse chuckle escaped from between Maryse's weathered lips.

"Surely it is I who should say that to you child." The endearment caused her to frown, she was in fact older than Maryse and they had met when Maryse had been a shy girl of nine, working with her mother in the kitchens. Over sixty decades had passed since then. "Come I will help you get ready, Prince Evindäl will be escorting you to dinner." A flutter in her abdomen marked her excitement to see the Prince again. Within the hour she had been pulled about every which way, her hair combed, her face slightly rouged, and her naturally slight frame pulled into a corset style dress which gave her more curves than she would ever own naturally.

"You are a marvel child." Maryse whispered, putting the final hair slide in place. Again, Ezhra'lí found herself frowning at the term, but when the maid pulled out a short veil she let out a frustrated sigh. "Tradition states..." Maryse began reminding her.

"Yes yes I know, that any unwed and unbetrothed member of nobility must cast a shadow across her chaste eyes so as to avert unwanted attention." She recited obediently, Maryse smiled wryly, for after fifty years she could hear the sarcasm in Ezhra'lí's words. To add insult to injury Maryse attached the short cream coloured veil, casting the required shadow over her eyes and she did so with a darn smile on her face. "You know I have killed people for mocking me." She muttered, causing Maryse to laugh.

"I do not doubt you my dear." Her laugh was short lived, for suddenly her fingers, bent at the joints and swollen with age, gently touched on the scar which now graced Ezhra'lí's face. They looked into each other's eyes then, Ezhra'lí's bright green ones, saw a mix of affection and sadness in Maryse's brown ones, the corners creased with lines, a sign of a happy life. "Whoever did this, I hope he paid for his crime." The words were so quiet, any human would not have heard.

"With his life." She replied simply. And still her friend stayed, her feet on a red stool which helped her reach the top of Ezhra's head.

"It has been an honour to serve you child. And though I am old and grey and you are young and timeless, I am glad to have called you friend." She exited before Ezhra'lí could respond. Ezhra'lí was young for her own race, yet already she had seen too many of her friends die, and sometimes, when faced with the reality of death, she would allow bitter thoughts to enter her conscious; what was a life of eternity? The opportunity to watch countless scores of friends die. A never ending dark sea of death, blood spilled, cruel deaths, babies born without breath in their body or an elderly person going to sleep one night and never again opening their eyes. And the elves were the forbearers, the watchers of death as it swung back and forth across the land. The light tread of footsteps walking toward her chambers caught her attention, and without stopping she swung open the oak doors, for she recognised the steps as though they stepped in time with her heart. Stopping mid stride, Evindäl stared at her with such a fiercely intense look that she felt her cheeks flush. How darn embarrassing she thought, scowling slightly. This only brought more love into his gaze and a smile to his slender lips. His dark, hazel coloured eyes captivated her, even from a pace of fifty steps she could clearly see the flecks of green and gold through the irises, for it was what she saw when she closed her eyes. His chestnut coloured hair fell around his crown in waves, in one spot the strands stuck up at an odd angle and she knew it was where he would have been pulling his hand back through his hair when thinking. Such a simple gesture, but the familiarity of it, that this was her Evindäl, sent her heart beating. No matter what the King said, in her heart Evindäl was hers.

"Ezhra." He breathed, and by expelling just her name she saw his strong shoulders loosen, as though a weight had been lifted.

"Mëi Mhrate-ar." She whispered. My Prince. They stood for an eternity, simply indulging themselves and ensuring the other was not hurt, was truly there. His gaze lingered on her scar, a slight frown appeared and in a blink he was before her; moving too quick for a human to match but Ezhra'lí's eyes saw his movements easily. Strong hands took her head in them, a thumb caressed the scar and she knew that his touch alone could remove the pain it had caused, the hurt that she had felt when after the battle it had dawned on her that she had felt no remorse whilst using sword and Weaves to render hundreds of men dead. Ezhra'lí was strong, always had been. Her Mother had said it made her insufferable but she knew it was an asset, without it she would never have been able to survive this long. Many Weavers had their own personal Abilities, one of hers was Empathy, she felt the feelings of those around her. It took strength of character to keep that gift locked away else she became overpowered by the hatred and pain on the battlefield. But here, in this place, with this man, she could allow herself a moment of weakness. And so she stood still, allowing Evindäl's thumb to trace lines on her face, watching his eyes so full of love, stare deep into her as though looking into her soul. She took one deep breath, and as she expelled it she also released her hold on her Ability inviting Evindäl's deepest feelings into herself.

"Do you feel that my love?" He could always sense the slightest shift in her. She did feel it, she was showered by his true feelings for her, this simple act which came so easily to her, as easy as taking a breath, described how deep and endless his love for her was like no words could. "You are my world, Mëi Paratr." He whispered, my heart. Suddenly she was blinded by a white light so bright it washed out all the colour in the world, a feeling of helplessness came over her, she felt like her eyes would be burnt away by the fierceness of it. In her mind she envisioned her younger brother Elion striding amongst the tents of the army, a sword at his hip and a proud but determined look on his face. Suddenly all of the colour was drowned out of the world, leaving only the blackest of blacks, a terrifying vision darker than a night with no moon or stars as guidance. She returned to the present moment abruptly, breath gasping, as she always did from her visions. Another of her Abilities was the gift of Foresight, so uncommon the last known Weaver with this Ability had been dead for three thousand years. She still remembered the absolute terror she had felt when first hit with a vision of the future, when her world went white and then black she truly believed she would never see the light of another day.

"What did you see?"

"Elion." She replied simply, looking up into his eyes, questioning him with her gaze. He bowed his head ashamed.

"He is to ride with the new recruits three nights hence. I am so sorry Ezhra, but we need all the arms we can get."

"Do not apologise, this is the doing of the unnatural bloody creatures who invaded our lands and threaten our future. My brother is a good man; he does what he knows he must. Though I fear for Mother. Will you ride with the recruits?"

"Yes, as far as the School of Enlightenment. There are two great libraries in Elindor, here and at the School, but I cannot be at both places. I have to make a choice, and my heart is set. Our eldest elves remember nothing of these creatures, which means we are talking thousands of years ago, before libraries and schools, before human cities, when our race still lived amongst the trees which we still consider home. Any documentation would have been kept in places long lost to us, or else long excavated by us, meaning the answer is more likely to be with the scholars. I have educated the librarians here on what to look for, I trust they will do me proud." As he spoke they had made their way into her chambers and sat back on the chairs.

"Your logic is sound; I just wish I had the gift of backsight rather than foresight!" She exclaimed exasperated.

"Your Ability has been an asset, we should not question the gifts which Aodolys bequeathed us with, especially not one such as yours my love." She turned her face chastised. Though she knew him to be right she did not speak it out loud, which made him laugh softly. "My stubborn love. Some things never change."

"I'm not bloody stubborn." She responded naturally, cursing herself for it and him for laughing again.

"Tell me, what takes you away from the front?"

"Aodolys granted me a vision, a weapon and a hopeful saviour travels to Syriak, I am to intercept it and return to the front. That is all I know, but it gives me hope all is not lost yet." They sat for a while longer, their topics of conversation a strange mix of reminiscing over old times, tactics for the war and odd prophecies Evindäl had come across in his search. Their time alone together was drawing to a close, they would be required to attend dinner, after which they would both follow the others present to their respective quarters. She wished this night would not end, but wishing was for children. And she had said goodbye to her innocence when she first sunk her sword into a man's stomach.

"It is nearly time to go." Evindäl whispered, reading her thoughts.

"I have missed you." She told him, not one to show any sign of weakness, in his shadow she felt she could be completely honest, even with herself. "With you, I feel like me." Taking her hands in his larger ones he looked at her with such sorrow she felt a tear trace its way down her cheek.

"Ezhra, my love." His voice broke with his own unshed tears and as it did all of her hopes and dreams died all over again. "I am betrothed." She shook her head.

"No. No, your Father denied us the right to wed." She spoke quietly, sickened by his words for they brought all of the feelings of despair she had felt when King Elmon had told them he would never consent for them to marry.

"He has set up a marriage pact, it would appear that in order to gain not only the support of the Lopal troops, but the right to lead them in the war, he bargained away my future."

"Evindäl, Lopal royalty are human. I never even knew they had any elven or faery courtiers."

"I am to marry Princess Irissa of Lopal, heir to the throne." The sickly feeling inside her grew stronger and tears threatened to consume her. In her moment of weakness she opened herself to the emotions of Evindäl, and from him she felt his never ending love but also his despair at all they had lost and would lose. In those feelings she knew the truth of his words, and his disgust at the marriage pact. Elves were stronger than humans, they lived for thousands of years. To lie with a human was dangerous, Ezhra'lí could match most human males for strength, even the strongest amongst them would struggle to defeat her with strength alone. All hope left her, leaving her feeling defeated, utterly empty and heartbroken.

"Your father is a bloody manipulative creature!" She exclaimed, unable to hold her anger back. She needed to do something. Anything! Before, when the Svetian army had invaded their lands, Evindäl had taken Ezhra to his father, young and giddy with love, they had requested his approval to marry, both knew Evindäl would go to defend their homeland and did not want him to go without uniting their love forever. King Elmon had denied them. She remembered well, the feeling of a door slamming shut behind her, closing her away forever from her hopes and dreams. It was then that she had infiltrated the army. What better way to expel her anger than to unleash it upon the monsters who invaded her home, killed her kinsmen and women, and who had been the catalyst to that door being shut on hers and Evindäl's love before it truly had the opportunity to blossom.

"Ezhra, be careful what you say, he is still your King." His words enraged her further.

"Am I now not allowed to speak my mind Prince?" She rose above him in her fury. But he had never been easy to bait, and he stayed on his seat, staring up at her with love filled eyes.

"Do not speak so hastily my love, I mean only that if any were to hear your words they could be misinterpreted. I know why you say what you say, but others may not understand." He looked away then, as though to look at her was amplifying his hurt. "I am sorry. I would like to say I am sorry for loving you, for that morning when I woke up to the thought of your beautiful face, finally opening my eyes to the realisation that you were my love, Mëi Paratr. But I cannot, for the thought of wedding another when my heart is yours is nowhere near as difficult to bear as the thought of never having known love like this. But I am sorry for my father's political actions."

"I love you Evindäl, this won't change that." He stood suddenly, his movements fluid and graceful. Taking her in his powerful arms he kissed her passionately, and she reciprocated in earnest. If this was to be their last meeting as lovers then they would give themselves to each other fully, holding nothing back. For despite that they were both immortal, without each other it would only be a half-life, a shadow of what could have been.

Ezhra'lí awoke early the next day, Aodolys was just beginning to make her appearance, a reddish glow was visible through the thick grey clouds which cast a dreary shadow over Imindra. She sighed deeply, if there was one thing she hated more than riding a horse, it was riding a horse in the rain. Rising took effort, for to wake fully was to remember last night. The blood rushed to her cheeks and she cursed herself for her innocence. She still remembered the look Queen Edraele had given the two of them when they had finally arrived for dinner late. She had said nothing, though the disapproval and sorrow had been evident. She too had wished for a different ending for her son and Ezhra'lí.

"Mëi Mhrate-ar." She whispered to herself longingly. But to wish for things was not to see them come into fruition. There was a war to be won and she intended to see to it that her people had all the help they could get. Despite knowing her actions could be considered rude, she knew she could not face any of the royal family today, so instead she had one of the staff rouse Matlok and Kadon, and by the time the sun had risen enough to wake the rest of the palace, the three of them were astride their mounts and cantering over the Crystal Bridge. Her plait streaming out behind her, her tears flowing freely.

Chapter 4

Vita glanced over at her niece from out of the corner of her eye; it was difficult to do anything discreet on this darn boat, a truth that they had grown used to over the three bloody moons. Ema sat beside Aesa and was pointing out the different coloured fish which swam beneath the gentle sea. Aesa nodded and made surprised noises when necessary for the conversation, but mostly her eyes stared out at the expanse of water, her mouth may be working but her mind was most definitely elsewhere. The longer they had been confined to this blasted boat the worse Aesa had gotten. To see such an empty look in her beloved niece's eyes terrified Vita but she could think of no way to bring her out of her depression. What could she say to ease the pain they both felt? What could she do to help Aesa forget the image of her family burning away on a mound of bodies. There was nothing. So instead she determined to simply be there. Always. Since the day Aesa had come into the world screaming, her already unruly curly hair plastered to her head and her tiny hands balled into little fists, Vita's life had changed because in that moment Aesa had become her life. She would follow her to the ends of the earth if that is what it took.

"I hope we will be there soon." Ema muttered, almost to herself, dipping her hand into the water, whenever she did that Vita felt her stomach flip over. She had never felt so helpless as she did staring out at the endless expanse of blue green sea. Is there no bloody end to this living hell? She thought grumpily, her stomach doing another turn as the boat rocked slightly. Aesa gave Vita a sudden look, a shot of concern in her cold eyes. They had run out of most of their rations, now simply living on fish they managed to catch cooked using Vita's gifts with flames. Without it they would likely be dead. Vita knew well how close they were to that anyway, if they did not reach land within the week they would likely die of thirst.

Ezhra'lí welcomed the sunlight streaming into her squinting eyes as she came out of her vision, for it meant the blackness had not consumed her. She did not, however, welcome the meaning of the vision.

"Darn it!" She exclaimed loudly, inviting a respectful look from Kadon, he had quickly gotten used to her cursing and she knew it was a source of entertainment for him, being the Lady that she was. Well she may be a bloody lady but she was also a darn warrior. Matlok raised a single black eyebrow at her in question. "We are going to be bloody late!" She had seen the backs of those who could sway the balance as they disappeared into the mist. If she did not intercept them on their approach into the harbour then she would lose them forever. At least she knew now that there were two people, not only one, though the vision still gave her no clue as to who or what this weapon to sway the balance could be. She looked out at the road before them, it was near enough a direct route to the city of Syriak, she knew the layout of the land as though there were a map inside her head. They would pass through a wood later on this afternoon, after which the road wound through hills of Hivia which would take half a day on horse to travel, the path snaked around the grassy slopes as this was easier with caravans, however she knew you could cut across the hills if you had a mind to. She could picture them easily, for she still remembered the first time her eldest brother Ayred had taken her to Syriak, he claimed to have done it only to stop her incessant questions about the city and the harbour which welcomed exiled men and women from across the sea. How long ago had that been? Twenty summers? As they had stepped out of the shaded woods and looked ahead at the rolling patchwork of hills Ezhra'lí had been rendered speechless. It looked to her as though someone had seen the incredible beauty of waves rolling across the sea and thought to stop them in their tracks, forever capturing the splendour. That is what she had seen in the miles of hilly terrain. They were not steep, and at this time of year the way would mainly be dry and free from the risk of slipping on mud hidden by fallen leaves. Yes, that would be the best way.

"My Lady?" Kadon asked eventually.

"I must leave you both." She replied simply, still staring out ahead of her, planning her journey. She felt, despite her keeping a constant grasp on her Empathy Ability, a sharp spike of surprise from Kadon and a sense of irritancy, from Matlok. "I thank you both for travelling this far with me." They had, in fact, been sent to escort her, but she would rather ride a horse for the rest of her days than admit to anyone that they had been anything more than companions sent to keep her company on her journey. "But if we continue in this way we will miss our opportunity. I know I can travel this distance faster on foot than on horse."

"Let us push the horses, half the journey time." Kadon offered.

"Lady Ezhra'lí, we were sent to escort you, we are to protect you." Matlok stated, as though she couldn't bloody look after herself. He must have sensed her annoyance as he backed off, though his eyes maintained their fierce glint.

"The horses are tired, even if we can buy fresh ones between here and Syriak, I am well rested. I can make the journey in better time on foot. I am ordering the two of you to follow me as quick as you can, we will rendezvous at the Belintin Inn, by then I will have this weapon and we can finally turn this war in our favour." At her words the two men nodded.

"Run swift and be safe." Kadon said, saluting by crossing his two arms across his chest with his hands in fists. Matlok followed suit nodding her farewell.

"Stay alert." She demanded. "This journey has been too easy so far. I am sure there are surprises in store for us yet." She jumped from the horses back, sparing a second to pat the mare gently. She had grown slightly attached to the tan mare, who had a determined temperament not unlike Ezhra'lí's own. Nodding to her companions, she strapped the pack from the horse's saddle to her back, pulled the brown scarf from her neck so that it covered her nose and mouth to keep the dust she would kick up from irritating her breathing, and set off at a sprint.

Evindäl stood on the balcony of his chambers, giving him a clear view of Lake Midrian. His fingers curled around the cool iron wrought balcony, the only thing between him and the open air. It had stood for nearly a thousand years, the intricate pattern of swirls, curls and crosses looked nothing more than pretty designs to rest one's eyes upon. Evindäl knew better, they were runes, from the language the elven race had once solely spoken. When the mad King Kenweald had sworn war on the magical creatures of Elindor nearly a thousand years ago, he had burnt the forests of the elves to the grounds, killing thousands. They had never recovered. The dwellings of the faeries in the West, a small island surrounded by sea, had run with blood. And to the East they had slain the dragons. There were those amongst his people who still remembered how the sky had turned dark as the huge beasts had taken to the skies, the red hot flames that spewed from their jaws the only source of light, until Kenweald had turned his Dragon Hunters to the skies, machines which could throw huge slabs of rock into the air, knocking the dragons from their path enabling the armies to swarm over them, finishing them off with swords and spears. His father had been young, a little older than Evindäl now, but when he talked of that day, of how the elves had raced to try and rescue the dragons, he still wept, for the majesty of the dragons in flight was lost to them forever. It was at the end of that long and gruelling war that the elves had entered the cities of humans, they had done so to end a war, to bring a world gone mad back to life and Evindäl's Grandsire had sat upon the throne which had once held King Kenweald. Never before had an elf ruled over men, but the greed of one man and his followers had led to a peaceful reign under King Leontis. The Palace had been built around the throne, a mixture of elven and human architecture which ended in a breathtaking construction of white walls, crystal bridges spanning the gaps between the towers, and across the whole of the Palace, intricately carved images of the beloved forests of the elves. Lost forever, but captured here in the very walls of the land's capital so as to be remembered for all eternity. The runes beneath his fingers spoke of what the elves lost all that time ago, what they still mourned to this day. Some had forgotten the Old Tongue, but his father had spoken only this language to him for many years, to Evindäl, the Old Tongue was now and always would be his native language. He looked down and, many stories below, the stable master led his horse Lightning around the training grounds. He could easily make out the features of the stable master, and the mark for which his horse was named. Lightning was pure black, but upon his brow was a white patch in the shape of a lightning bolt. He smiled fondly, the horse had been his companion for many years. He remembered when he had first received the foal as a gift, he had been so excited to show Ezhra he had begged his Mother until she had relented and he had been allowed to make the journey to Lord Haroun's land with his minder and some guards. He had arrived on his magnificent new horse and the whole family had come out to admire it. But when he had asked Ezhra what she thought she had stared at him as though he were dumb.

"Why do you need a horse? An elves legs are more powerful than those of any beast!" She had scoffed watching Lightning warily. Affronted he had offered her a race, his horse against her legs. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he remembered that afternoon. Of course, she had won. Though she still would not admit the pain it had caused her legs to have run straight for a full afternoon, her brother Dashél had secretly told him the servants had had to massage the muscles in her legs for two whole weeks as a result. His stubborn Ezhra. He smiled fondly again. Oh how he loved her.

Ezhra stretched out her muscles, ready for the day ahead. She always stretched before a long run now, determined not to make the same mistakes as she had years ago when Evindäl had first shown her Lightning. Bloody horses. By the time the sky was too dark to continue travelling, Ezhra had already passed through the wood and begun driving her path through the hills of Hivia. It was not easy to break the limb of an elf, but taking a wrong step in the dark and falling down the side of one of these hills could do it. So she had stopped and rested, at the pace she was able to keep she would reach Syriak by mid-afternoon. The run had also allowed her time to think of all that had happened in the last week. Her heart was still sore but she had decided that she must make new aspirations. And she had decided that once they had rid the land of Svetian's she would take her leave of Elindor, setting out into the world to travel, she had always been the adventurous sort. She would go to places she had only ever read about, see things she had only ever dreamed about. Yes. If she survived, she would leave this place for she could not bear the thought of seeing another at Evindäl's side. But first, she had to find this new weapon, and then live to see the end of this fight.

"By the Watchers!" Vita exclaimed in a breathless cry, the statement barely registered with Aesa. "I can see land." Well that certainly caught her attention. Aesa made to follow her Aunt's gaze but the two mountainous statues in the distance pulled her eyes. The statues were carved from the very rocks before them, grassy land sloped from the shoulder height to the beaches below, she could see that there lay a huge city ahead, the only way to get to it was to travel between the two statues through their shadow to the harbour beyond. A male and a female, even from this distance she could see the detail to the figures, whomever had carved those statues had taken on a near impossible task and rendered something exquisite. As their boat drew closer more detail became visible. Both were truly beautiful, their faces forever cast in concentrative expressions, each different, unique and yet with the same down cast eyebrows, their intelligent eyes staring off into the distance, in the direction they had just come from. The effect was both intimidating and yet welcoming. As they travelled beneath the statues Aesa could not dispel the shiver from running through her body at the magnitude of the moment. They had arrived in foreign lands. This was the very way her Ma would have travelled all those years ago. As they neared it was possible to make out that the vast coast line was dotted with buildings, some large and grand, their colourful walls glaring in the sun. But there were also buildings which looked much more plain and dull, they stood out only because of the contrasting dreary sight. It was difficult to fathom that soon enough they would encounter people, real people. She had spent so long with just Vita and Ema it seemed strange to imagine conversing with others. She had begun to feel like they were the only people left in the world. Vita was becoming more irritable as they drew closer to the harbour, it was quite obvious she was anxious to reach land, not only had she felt the same stomach tremors as Aesa and Ema but she was also restless to continue their journey to Sana.

Ezhra'lí opened her eyes to the burning sunlight, in the distance she could see the city of Syriak which held Passage Harbour, compared to the serene beauty of the white buildings of Imindra, the brightly coloured walls were always a shock to the eyes but she welcomed it. She was so close to her destination but her vision, a confusing flash of images, implied she was going to miss them. Well, she was not going to let this bloody opportunity pass, she would just have to run even faster. Picking up speed, she flew through the countryside, her braided hair streaming out behind her, the wind roaring in her ears. As she passed the farms she could see people stopping and gawping at her, revelling in the sight of an elf running so freely. There was a bright yellow wall which ran from the coastline to the east of the city to the coastline on the west, bordering in the city and offering some protection from neighbours who may wish to cause them harm. The wall was easily breach able for Ezhra'lí, she could see there were holes in the bricks which would give her an easy foothold, within seconds she could climb up and over and continue her journey. But to do so would be to invite the attention of the Weavers and the Authorities. Instead, she slowed her pace and approached the open gates, there were a multitude of people politely queuing for entrance, farmers, travellers, merchants. But she was a member of the royal court, and had no cause to wait in line. Some people called out to her, frustrated that she had the impertinence to jump in, but it did not take long for her name to begin being whispered. Ezhra'lí was nearing six feet in height, average for one of her own race, yet tall by human standards. The people around her stared at her long braided hair, the pointed ears and slant to her eyes which all attested to her being an elf. She did not need to announce herself by the time she reached the guards they were waiting with both fists held to their chests in salute.

"Captain Ezhra'lí. You are most welcome in the city of Syriak. We will send a runner immediately to the Count Jamos and an escort will be provided." The young guardsman told her, his grey eyes to the floor.

"I have no need for an escort, nor for you to inform the Count I am even here. If I may speak with you out of earshot Lieutenant..."

"Penmir sir, I mean ma'am." His handsome face turned the colour of a tomato, his blush extending to his reddish coloured hair. She couldn't help but smile, since the day of her birth people had not really known what to do about her. Her mother had been left exasperated as her long awaited daughter wanted to play with swords and cause mischief with her brothers. Those at court had never known how to handle her use of bad language nor her stubbornness, which most courtiers would disguise so as not to offend the King. Ezhra'lí had never held such qualms.

"Please, Lieutenant Penmir, call me Ezhra. Now, there is a boat arriving from Passage Point, I am to intercept those on the vessel and return to the front line with them, I must be quick and I must be, as much as possible, discrete."

"I understand, ma'am. I will have to let the Count know, for he shall eventually hear of this, but I can make the telling wait a while if that helps with your journey?" She smiled warmly at him as he finally met her eyes. He blushed even further.

"Thank you Penmir, you have done me a service."

"Good day to you Lady Ezhra'lí, I hope you find all that you seek."

"As do I." She muttered to herself as she jogged through the gateway. "As do I."

Chapter 5

Aesa used the oars to direct the boat to the long jetty that reached out into the sea like a welcoming arm. As they had passed beneath the statues shadow a strange sense had settled over her, she could not say it was comfort for she doubted her heart could ever feel such a thing again. But she did feel welcome and with that came a small sense of warmth. The jetty was a wooden structure with boats of varying sizes moored to it, the smallest boat made their own look like an infant in size. More jetties extended out from the land, but as this was the longest Aesa felt this was the best one to head toward. As the noon sun hit the walls of the city proper, she closed her eyes against the brightness yet she could still see flecks of orange, red, pink and blue flickering like a thousand fireflies against her eyelids. Just looking at the dry ground made her legs twitch to fully stretch out. At the end of the jetty there was a small wooden building, simple in structure it was one of the only things which resembled home. Everything else was stone and alien and new. There was one door which stood open in the warm air, and from within she could see a selection of chairs and a desk. Out of the building came a single man, who had a cudgel at his hip and was large in stature, but his hazel eyes were warm and welcoming and his smile seemed genuine. The dark blue billowing pants he wore were tucked into red leather boots and a yellow shirt with a black eye stitched to the left breast pocket all added to her head ache.

"Welcome!" He shouted, his voice rich and deep. Ema scrambled to the front of the boat and threw him the thick rope, which he used to pull them in and moor them to the jetty. Once they were secure, the gentleman held out his hand, so as to help them out. Despite herself, Aesa could not help but feel trusting toward the man. She did not quite know why, but there was something about him which relaxed her slightly. Despite her feelings she could still feel her unease in the way her shoulders locked and her hands clenched in a fist, as though ready to fight. Once they were all out of the boat, Aunt Vita having needed extra help, the man spoke again. "Welcome ladies, I am Watcher Gordo. You are safely arrived in Elindor, friend to any who are in need." Standing on her own two legs without feeling the sway of the sea was surprisingly odd, and Aesa felt her body swaying slightly as though to make up for the loss. She could see Aunt Vita and Ema were doing the same. The little girl clung to her side as her inquisitive eyes took in the city before them. "If you would like to enter, we do need to go through some formalities as you enter our country." It seemed perfectly harmless, but she could not help but stare into the room as though searching for a threat, before finally following her Aunt in. They were given chairs to sit on, cushioned and comfortable, only heightening the feeling of welcome. The three all sat and looked around in wonder. Aesa was sure that her Aunt was just as overwhelmed as she, but despite that the silence was quickly growing awkward, she could not find it in her to speak, nor did she care to.

"Watcher Gordo, you must excuse our rudeness. I am Healer Vita and this is my niece Healer Aesa, and our niece Ema."

"Thank you for your introductions, do not fear, there is no slight. My job is to both Watch and Welcome those who come to our shores, I am no stranger to this."

"Then please, tell us what we must do." Aesa listened to the talk half-heartedly, her hand held onto Ema's, as much for her own comfort as the child's. Watcher Gordo asked Vita to recount what had led them to these shores and the circumstances in which they had travelled. At his question, Aesa stiffened. For all his smiles and warm welcomes, this man was a stranger to them. How could they trust him? What was to say they had not landed in a place where magic was just as damned as it had been in Debdran. Vita seemed to have the same reservations as her, for she remained silent a moment. As the silence spread Aesa caught the glimmer of something in the window, it was gone in less than a heartbeat but she could have sworn it looked as though someone had passed by, but no one could move that quickly. As the thought entered her mind, the door swung open heavily, slamming against the wall and startling everyone in the room, Aesa included. For the first time she saw something other than kindness in the Watcher as he stood, his hand going to grab the cudgel at his waist.

"Stand down man. There is no need for bloody displays of bravery." The sun blazed through the doorway making it difficult to see much other than an outline of the person in the door, they had spoken with a feminine voice, one which would be suited to a career as a singer it was so beautiful, and yet the person in the doorway nearly had to duck to get inside. The woman stepped through, becoming fully visible, and Aesa could not help but be awestruck. The lady before her was tall and slender, with a girlish figure, she wore worn and dirty leather leggings and tunic with a strange coat which buttoned over her chest but was split from her waist down to her ankles, a pair of black boots on her feet and from her hip hung a sword of remarkable worth. However, it was her face which truly captivated Aesa, the strong yet feminine jawline, high proud cheek bones. Her eyes were emerald green in colour, almond in shape with a slight slant to them pointing upwards, not dissimilar to a cat. A thin white scar stretched from above her eyebrow to the centre of her cheek and her golden red hair fell to below her knees. The woman was both beautiful and terrifying, for in her Aesa could sense power. Her piercing green eyes looked over the three of them, evaluating their worth, as those eyes passed over her, Aesa felt a shudder run through her body and a trickle of emotion entered her otherwise lifeless soul. She felt awed in the woman's presence. For though her face and body were those of a girl only just reaching womanhood, her eyes spoke of wisdom and years beyond her looks.

"Lady Ezhra'lí." The Watcher eventually stuttered. "Welcome, how may I be of service to you and the crown?"

"It would appear I am here for these women." As she spoke, her lips spread into a smile which extended into her eyes, and Aesa let go of the breath she had been holding.

Ezhra'lí looked over the ragtag group in the Watcher's hut. They were dirtied and travel worn, their clothes as dishevelled as her own, they wore no weapons and looked harmless enough, but there was a pride in the older lady which could not be denied and a determination in the icy glare of the younger woman. The two were as similar as could be, both with thick black curly hair and round blue eyes, button noses with a dusting of freckles. As she looked more closely at the younger lady she felt her heart beat quicken. For she remembered seeing those cold eyes before, in much the same circumstance.

"Let me introduce our guests, this is Healer Vita and Healer Aesa, their companion is Ema." Watcher Gordo explained, each of the three inclined their heads slightly as he spoke, drawing her attention away from the familiar woman. She noticed that Vita had two crutches at her side, sturdy and weathered, her feet showed through the bottom of her tattered skirt, each pointing in an unnatural angle. To have lived through an ordeal which led to such a disability was impressive in itself. "They are about to tell me about how they have come to be here." She saw both Vita and Aesa's brows furrow slightly, but it was the child who spoke.

"Please, we had nowhere else to go." She said, her pretty round face looking up at Ezhra'lí, tears in her green eyes.

"Ema." Aesa pulled the child back to her knee, holding her close.

"Please, ladies we mean only to help. You have nothing to fear on these shores. Magic is neither outlawed nor unusual." Watcher Gordo offered, his manner friendly, though she knew his job was to ensure no threats entered Elindor unknown to the Watchers.

"Our story is likely not one you have heard before." Vita eventually admitted. The Watcher pulled up a chair for Ezhra to sit on, so she made herself comfortable.

"If you can tell me of your journey, I will tell you of mine." She told the women and she saw them glance at each other slightly, Aesa nodding her head in agreement with Vita's decision.

"We are from a small village of Debdran, named Renfall. I was the village Healer and had been for over two decades. My niece here apprenticed with me for many of her own years." As she spoke, tears welled in her eyes and Ezhra felt the pain emanating from the group, even without her Empathy Ability their hurt radiated above all else. "Just over four moons ago, we went out on an annual trip for herbs for our poultices. We had journeyed for nearly a day when we saw it." As Vita spun the tale of Renfall's and the villagers' demise leading to their own journey here, Ezhra'lí flicked her eyes between them all, Ema openly wept, burying her head in Aesa's skirts, Aesa herself stared out of the window, no tears fell from her sad eyes, but she could see the determination solidify and intensify as Vita's words washed over her. She listened intently, hoping for a hint that the women had powers, that one of them may be the answer her army were seeking to end their war; but if they held such a power they either were unaware or unwilling to share. "We saw them as we travelled south. Those who had come to slaughter our people and ravage our land, they were not of our world." Vita ended her tale, openly weeping for all that they had lost. Her heart bled for the sorrow these women had faced, placing her hand over Aesa's she looked her in the eyes.

"I vow I will do everything in my power to help in your quest. But first, I must save my own people." There was a slight shift in the woman, a hint of trust and a spark of hope appeared in her eyes, and she nodded her thanks. After speaking with a Watcher and being granted permission to enter Elindor, people were often set up in a halfway house, Ezhra'lí used her position as a Lady of the realm, to have the three released into her own care, she was to be their sponsor. She could see they were unsure with the idea, but in reality they had little choice. "Tonight, we will stay in the Belintin Inn, I want you all to feel you can trust me, I am here to help you not hinder you. So come, let us make our way there as night is closing in." She told them, agreeing to answer any questions they had.

Chapter 6

Vita gripped her crutches as she raised herself back up, she could feel her arms shaking with the strain and cursed herself for not having done more to keep the muscle strong on their journey here. They bid the Watcher farewell, and followed the Lady out of the hut. Neither Vita nor Aesa had ever been tall, but beside their new sponsor Vita couldn't help but feel like a child. She looked over at her niece then, she had seen so many changes in her beloved over the years, but never one such as this. Aesa stared ahead, her eyes seemed devoid of life. Only four moons ago Aesa would have been beyond excited to be stepping foot into their first city. Now, she barely looked at the buildings around them. Ema more than made up for her niece's solitude, the child kept firing questions about how things worked and Vita couldn't help but smile. It was truly awe inspiring. The buildings were brighter up close than far away, though she could sense that the warm colours were meant as a welcome to those travelling into the harbour, since the origin of the tradition it would appear the inhabitants here had taken it a step too far with the garishly colourful clothing they wore, none of the colours matched and she knew how much her group stood out in their earthy browns and greens, even Ezhra'lí's clothing singled her out as not from here, though there was more in her bearing and demeanour that spoke for that.

The innkeeper and his wife were more than hospitable to the group of women, they ensured the best rooms were available and even gave the group their own private dining area for their use during their stay. This only served to remind Aesa that the woman who they had met was of great importance. And after her promise in the Watcher's hut, she was willing to help them. The private dining room was cosy, with a maroon red couch and matching armchair next to the open fire place, a thick mahogany table with two benches, and a painting of the harbour itself resting on the wall. The family here were patriotic and loved their city, this was evident from not only the picture but also the trinkets spread through the room; a small replica of an iron anchor, a rainbow coloured flag which Ezhra'lí explained was the flag of Syriak, and a glass bottle, inside a tiny ship complete with masts and sails. It was an impressive piece of artistry of which she had never seen the like. A young woman, barely sixteen summers old, bought them a large pot of steaming fish stew and fresh crusty bread, she placed the pot on the fireplace to keep warm and left them alone again. As she took her first mouthful of real food, Aesa could feel her glands practically drooling over the taste. It was absolutely delicious, a welcome end to the weeks of stale bread, dried meats and cheese. Once all of them had had their fill, each returning for a third helping, they retired to the comfier seating. Ema was soon fast asleep.

"You said you would answer any of our questions." Aesa said, she could see she had taken Ezhra'lí by surprise but did not regret her tone. When Ezhra'lí did not answer straight away Aesa raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"I apologise if I appeared rude Aesa, it is just that you have not actually spoken since I entered the hut at the jetty." Ezhra'lí told her, inclining her head in apology. Surely that could not be right, she would have said something between then and now. Aunt Vita took her hand and agreed with the Lady.

"Aye, it's true. I have been damn near slapping you to get you to bloody talk." Again, the Lady looked taken aback, but she quickly recovered and even let out a small laugh.

"I feel it may be wise for me to first explain my journey here, that in itself may help with some of the answers you seek." And so she did, they sat in wonder as Ezhra'lí explained about having some sort of vision which told her to seek them out, that her country was at war with an evil race of Mage's, magical creatures not unlike humans and that she believed them to be her country's saviours. Aesa couldn't help but laugh bitterly at that.

"We came here in search of help, not with some unknown weapon to save the world. I want vengeance for the atrocities done to me and mine!" She exclaimed, her fist clenched in anger.

Vita looked on at her niece helplessly, Aesa had never been one to anger but the look in her eyes at that moment was full of nothing but fury. Before she was able to offer some comfort, the Lady was kneeling before them in the blink of an eye.

"I vowed I would help you with your quest Aesa of Renfall, and I never go back on my word. But I implore you to look at the war my country are facing, is it not the same as your own? We may have had some more warning to put a stop to the army's advances, but we are too fighting for our lives and our freedom. As much as you wish for revenge, I wish for hope that my people will live. The Mage's, they allow none with magic excluding themselves to live. In a world where the very royal family are magical creatures, where magic is in the air around us, in the ground we walk upon, in the blood that runs through our veins, how will we ever survive against a tyrant such as those who right now attack our borders and threaten our very existence?" As she spoke, tears of frustration welled in her beautiful green eyes and Vita's heart went out to her. She could see that the emotion which Ezhra'lí had bared to them had touched something within Aesa, for she put a tiny hand on the Lady's shoulder and spoke softly.

"What I have lost I cannot regain, I will give my life to stop another kingdom face its extinction. I am yours to command Lady Ezhra'lí. Though I am ashamed to admit I have no great power, only the ability to heal." There was a fervour in Aesa's eyes as she spoke, and Vita knew to never doubt her word.

"Lady Ezhra'lí." Vita spoke, breaking the intense eye contact between the two of them.

"I consider that my pompous name. Tis Ezhra to friends. From now on you shall call me that." Ezhra said with a rueful grin. Vita inclined her head at the invitation.

"Ezhra then, you speak of those who have come to your lands as Mage's, a magical race. We scouted where possible on our trip to Passage Point, there were those not dressed in armour, they seemed to be servants or slaves and when they spoke of their masters, they spoke of the Mage's." It dawned on all three of them, those very enemies that now threatened Elindor were of the same people who had slaughtered Renfall and were no doubt now bathing in the blood of the royal family in Jacoby. Every single one of the soldiers marching across Debdran wielded magic. Their country did not stand a chance. Aesa sprang to her feet, jostling Ema awake. Vita held her breath, expecting another passionate outburst, but instead Aesa looked into the flames before bursting into tears, she fell to her knees beside Ezhra and her head sunk into Ezhra's shoulder.

"My babies were there. I carried them in this body for nine moons. I bore them into this world and I was not there for them as they were cruelly taken from it." She screamed their names. "Arina. Alek. I will not rest until I bathe in the blood of those who did this to you. I will hear their screams to soothe my pain, I will witness their suffering to ease my burden." Ezhra looked at Vita startled, but there were none more stunned than she. Regaining her composure, Vita softly touched the curly black hair on Aesa's head.

"I vow to follow you in your journey, to help ease your suffering by lending what powers I do possess to the cause. For the children you bore, the husband you loved and the villagers we called our own."

Ezhra fervently believed that her vision had brought her to these women for a reason, they had seen what her people were facing and had somehow come out at the other side. As Aesa wept on her shoulder, she felt as though a thread had connected her to all three of them a long time ago, gently pulling them together in a twist of fate, every decision made in her life adding a pull, bringing them closer to each other with every passing day. The child with them, barely nine summers old looked at the scene with eyes which had known more than anybody, let alone a child, should ever have to witness. Ezhra's eyesight was sharp, she could easily make out the different hues of brown the freckles on Ema's face, and the two beads of sweat running from her red hair line down her cheek. As she watched it occurred to her that the room was over heated, an oppressing feeling as though the fire had stretched to cover the entire wall and not just the small fireplace.

"Is it just me or is it exceptionally hot in here?" She asked the others, feeling sweat beading on her own forehead.

"Aunt Vita. Calm down." Aesa whispered harshly. Ezhra did not understand until she looked down.

"It is not me child, it's you." Vita muttered, almost to herself. Aesa's left arm hung next to her, the one furthest from Ezhra was aflame. She let out a cry and tried to pat it out, but the intensity was great and her fingers burned at even the slightest touch. "It's ok Ezhra. Aesa can put it out herself." The young woman looked at her Aunt imploringly. "You control the flame, you tell it what you want it to do." There was a moment's hesitation, a moment where the heat increased to stifling levels and Ezhra feared for the welfare of those with her and the inn itself.

"Recede." Aesa whispered, so faintly Ezhra was sure only she heard it. As the word left the woman's lips, the red orange flames which were snaking around her arm slowly reduced, they slithered back down and began disappearing into her fingertips. The skin that was left was pale and whole, with no mark to bear witness to what had just happened. Aesa stared down at the hand in question in shock and awe, bringing the hand up to her face to inspect her fingers which only a moment before had commanded fire. As they all looked down, unsure of what to say or do, Ezhra noticed a slight mist coming from the very tips of Aesa's right hand, the blue white haze spilled out and like the flames, it wrapped around her wrist, as tenderly as a mother may hold her new born babe. It continued its path up her arm, and as it progressed the skin beneath crystallized, as though Aesa were turning into ice before their very eyes. Again, the young woman looked terrified, but she whispered the same command a second time and the mist made its way home to her fingertips, her skin cracking slightly until finally the ice shattered and fell to the floor in tiny pieces.

"You are Weavers!" She exclaimed suddenly, making everybody jump. The revelation was not entirely unexpected but still came with a jolt of excitement. Whatever these women's Abilities, it could very well mean the end of the war.

Aesa woke the next day with a sense of purpose. She had allies in her Aunt and the Lady, they would offer aid in seeing her vengeance fulfilled, though she could not help but feel she may get left behind. The sword Ezhra carried at her hip and the graceful way in which she moved told Aesa that she was a practised swordsman, her Aunt a witch with a power locked inside of her that even Aesa knew nothing of. The Ability within herself which she had glimpsed the night before whispered a promise that she may be able to make a difference after all. All she would need is training, ever since a young age Aesa had had a determined nature when it came to learning. She had thrown herself into studies on Healing so young that some of her first memories were of learning the names and healing attributes of herbs, she would be no less tenacious in her studies with magic. They met to break their fast in the dining room, and as Aesa entered she saw Ezhra with two gentlemen.

"Ah, Aesa. Please meet my two travel companions Matlok and Kadon." They both inclined their heads at her. Kadon had a warm smile, Matlok looked at her as though reading her inner secrets, it left her feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny though she showed no outward signs. Both men were travel worn, their black trousers and tunics covered in dust and their hair was dishevelled.

"I did not know the Queen had relatives in these parts." Matlok said, his eyes looking at Ezhra though he appeared to be talking about Aesa. As though a huge secret had just been laid out to her, Ezhra banged her fist on the table.

"That's it! I bloody knew I had seen you before! You are a damn genius Matlok." He inclined his head again, though Kadon barked out a laugh at Ezhra's display. Aunt Vita entered with Ema at her side.

"You know my sister Sana?" Vita asked, her voice desperate. But as she spoke, Aesa could see Ezhra's face pinch in thought.

"I know Queen Maric." She replied, watching for recognition. Aunt Vita slumped into her chair defeated. "But I have no doubt they are one and the same. I was here, over twenty years ago when she arrived in a boat not dissimilar to your own."

"That's her! It bloody well must be!" Vita banged her fist on the table in much the same way Ezhra had a moment before. "Wait, did you say Queen?"

"Did you say twenty years ago? How do you remember that far back?" Aesa asked, the woman before them looked younger than herself by a good decade.

"I am an elf, I thought I explained this yesterday? Perhaps not well enough. I am nearly ninety summers old." Ezhra stated. Ema dropped the bread she had been holding on to the floor, her mouth hanging open in shock. No doubt Aesa looked just about the same. "We age differently, my mother is over eight centuries old but to look at her she looks younger than thirty years."

"Ninety! That's even older than Aunt Vita!" The words blurted out before she could stem them, her Aunt gave her a good knock with her cane.

"Watch your bloody manners! I am not that old!" Ema was giggling at the display but Aesa could not help but stare at the elf before her. Ninety years.

"And as for the Queen part, yes. Maric is Queen of our neighbour the kingdom of Lopal. They are currently fighting beside us in the war, though the Queen herself still resides within the palace with her daughter; it seems logical that we take you there." It was Aesa's turn to sit down. She had a sister? Her mother was alive and she had a sister. Her head spun and there was a moment when nausea took hold, where she was glad she had not yet broken her fast. "I am sure this must be a lot to take in. How about we leave you to your thoughts for the moment." Ezhra ushered the two men out, leaving them alone, muttering about them returning to the fight with all speed.

"She's alive Aesa!" Aunt Vita exclaimed, grabbing her hands, inviting her into the celebration with her pleading eyes. But Aesa was unsure how to react, for in truth she did not appear to care. Glancing into her Aunt's eyes, she blinked once and then returned to staring at the food on offer.

Ezhra led her new companions to the stables, they had paid the stable hand to prepare for their departure whilst they acquired supplies. Despite their best attempts to dissuade her, she had also purchased two new sets of clothes for each of them, their own so worn and ragged that holes had begun appearing.

"I thought you said it was normal for women to wear leggings." Aesa stated questioningly, pulling on the stretchy green material distrustfully. The woman was only slight, barely reaching five foot two, but her figure was full like a woman's should be and the leggings accentuated every curve. Ezhra let out a laugh.

"Maybe not in the city, but out in the countryside you'll fit right in! And believe me these are a lot more bloody comfortable than any dress." She proceeded to lunge slightly as though to exhibit the worth of the pants and even did a one handed flip.

"I hadn't realised we were also joining the circus." Aesa replied, but the soft smile upon her lips took the sting away and brought a laugh out of the rest of them. The stable hand had acquired two extra horses and a cart, as they neared Vita shook her head fiercely as though to dispel any thought of her climbing up there.

"I don't bloody think so! Much quicker on my canes thank you very much!" She exclaimed, pulling herself back.

"Vita, we are in a hurry, I do not doubt the strength in your arms only the speed in your limbs. I plan on being in Lopal within the moon, believe me that is not going to happen if we bloody walk there!"

"That's all well and good but how the bloody hell am I to get up there." Vita muttered angrily, eyeing the cart warily. The thought crossed Ezhra's mind that perhaps, after nearly a century, she had met her match.

"Allow me." She cried, scooping Vita up in her arms she took two steps and jumped to the bench, sitting the lady down she couldn't disguise the laugh at the incredulous look on Vita's face. Ema was laughing in delight and the sound brought a smile to all of their faces.

"Well I never! Maybe you could just carry me to Lopal?"

"Evindäl tells me I'm very competitive- so don't tempt me to prove I could!" There was enough space for one more in the cart so Aesa passed Ema to Vita. "You can ride?" Aesa nodded.

"Cale taught me." And just like that, they were on their way.

As they rode, Ema's green eyes were searching the city, taking everything in. It occurred to Ezhra that her traveling companions were likely to have never seen a city before.

"Do you like Syriak?" She asked Aesa whose piercing eyes flickered around.

"I'm not sure. It's so busy. Is it ever quiet?"

"This is nothing, you should see Imindra, the Capital. There the city never sleeps."

"Will we visit the capital?" Ezhra shook her head sadly.

"I'm afraid not, my family live not far from Imindra, on a small island. It is a truly beautiful place but I always preferred the more urban areas. My parents' house looks on to Lake Midrian; you can see the palace from there. There are farms on our land rising up into the mountains, but it often felt as though I were the only person in the world. That was until one of my brothers found me of course." She added with a grin.

"How many brothers do you have?" Ema asked from behind them.

"Five, I am the only girl."

"Six, your mother has six children." Vita exclaimed. "One was enough!" Ezhra looked back at her surprised. The woman had not mentioned any children of her own.

"Aunt Vita and my mother have a connection of sorts; they feel each other's pain." Aesa explained quietly.

"Incredible!" And she meant it. Ezhra had met a number of twins in her lifetime, her own brothers Aimar and Almar had been twins, but never had she heard about a connection so powerful that siblings sensed each other.

"It's how she knew Sana was alive." Looking between the two women, quiet and curious Aesa, a hidden array of talent, alongside her proud and intelligent Aunt, Ezhra counted her blessings. It seemed she had stumbled upon a treasure chest of possibility.

"You must remember Vita that my mother is over eight hundred years old, my eldest brother is a two hundred years my senior."

"Are all of your brothers in the army?" Vita questioned.

"Yes, Ayred, the eldest, is a General. Dashél is a Healer, like yourselves only he also Weaves to heal. You could learn a lot from him and no doubt he from you. Elion is the youngest and has just joined. If possible he is the most ambitious of us all. He has been teased for eighty years for being the baby, when the Svetian's first stepped foot on our land and my father followed King Elmon to war, Elion was desperate to follow my brothers. I expect great things from him." She had not mentioned Aimar and Almar, speaking about them was too difficult at times. Vita and Aesa would no doubt guess that the remaining two brothers had passed on. Their sacrifice would not be in vain. Elindor would prevail.

"Have you visited the capital of Lopal before?" Vita enquired, obviously curious about her sister's home.

"No, I have only entered the country itself a handful of times, what I know of Rhebeth is learnt through books and from what others have told me. The city works in tiers, the first circle is the poor quarter and spreads out from the base of a mountain, a ramshackle of buildings that spreads for miles. The second circle is on the mountain and is inhabited by the middle class, lively inns, shops and food halls scatter the inner circle. The final area is the Palace, which is its own town in itself, the rich and wealthy live in the third circle, which looks down over the rest of the city. The Palace is surrounded by walls and there is only the one entrance, a huge fortified gate, a well-defended position but it leaves the lower circles much more vulnerable."

"What of the poor people? In the case of war what do those in these lower circles do?" Aesa pressed, a sudden fire lighting her eyes.

"In truth I do not know, the lower circle has grown over centuries, my mother remembers Rhebeth at half the size it is now. The stories of wars from before my time claim that the middle circle sheltered within the walls, but many of the outer people were left where they were." She noticed Aesa's grip tightened on the reigns of her horse and her breathing quickened, a glance back to her Aunt seemed to calm her. "Don't get me wrong Aesa, I do not think it is right but every ruler rules differently. My King does more for the poor than any Elindorian before him, but others are greedy. I have found that many human leaders are just that- covetous. They rule for such a short span they focus on what they want and not on the needs of their people. I over generalise I know, elven rulers and faery rulers alike have been tyrants, human leaders have been kind hearted and fair." They rode for a while in silence before Ezhra asked "What of your land?"

"Debdran was led by the Royals, descendants of those who exiled magic. We lived in a village so far south of the capital that their laws had little effect on us. Mainly those in the furthest farming villages are left to their own devices, those accused of crime are tried and punished by the village Speaker. Those accused of witchcraft, of course, are different. The Hunters are sent." Something about the way Aesa hissed the word told Ezhra this pack of hunters were unlike any others. "The day they came for my Ma was the first day I stared into the face of evil." She concluded, the look upon her face making it evident she did not wish to speak anymore so Ezhra left her to her thoughts. In truth she wanted to have time to think herself. She would take the women to Lopal, but the war was raging on to the east and it was imperative she return there with as much help as possible. That was, after all, the reason she had left her men. She needed to ensure they were ready for war. Vita it seemed was a hidden talent, secretly playing with her gifts for years. She would be a valuable ally. Aesa was another matter completely, she was pure and raw talent. But she had little grip on her awakening powers, it was a feeling Ezhra knew all too well. And what of Ema? Surely she could not accompany them to the border, it was too dangerous. But having seen the kinship of this strange family she knew that the three would never again be separated. Like any large army they had thousands of followers, blacksmiths, bakers, couriers, beggars, even families. Some of the soldier's wives simply refused to be left behind, in truth they were a great asset and she appreciated their bravery. Maybe she could leave Ema with a family, it would certainly be safer than within the main camp itself and she would be near enough to Vita and Aesa for comfort. They were nearing the city walls so she turned to her companions.

"Vita, once we are out of the city I plan to ride hard, will you be OK?" She could see the determination in this woman's eyes and couldn't help comparing her to her twin, all she had seen in the Queen of Lopal's eyes was coldness.

"We will be OK." Was the response so as soon as they had passed the masses of people coming and going she kicked her heels and let Luna run free, Aesa followed suit. The second leg of their journey had just begun.
Chapter 7

Vita kept a tight hold on the reins of the horse pulling her cart, her stomach fluttering with nerves as it had when they first sat within their small boat. Before they had exited the city the road had been smooth, but now they were crossing the country proper the terrain had become uneven and rough. Despite the cushion Ezhra had purchased, Vita still found her rear end as sore as when she had been caught causing mischief as a child. To add insult to injury Ema seemed to have no such difficulties. The child sat beside her with a bloody smile on her face and her arms in the air, letting the whistling air flow through her outstretched fingertips. Children. She thought bitterly scowling down at Ema. They had made their exit via the southern gate, Ezhra had explained she had entered via a different route. Now, despite that they were entering into autumn, all Vita could see before them were the lush green fields, no sign as of yet of the brown and orange colours of the season. Vita shrugged her shawl from her shoulders, surprised that the air was still warm. The weather here was altogether different to back home, the sun still shone brightly and she could not feel any hint of a storm brewing. Their path was a simple one, a dirt road stretched out in a straight line for as far as Vita could see, in the distance were farm dwellings, their workers appearing small from her vantage point. Despite her excitement at the views all around her, so alien compared to that which she was used to, her thoughts always skipped back to one thing. Sana. Her sister would be able to sense Vita drawing in, would she ride out to meet her? Had their twenty three year separation changed their relationship? From what little information Ezhra had let out, the time had certainly changed her twin and she was not sure it was for the better.

Evindäl swung himself lithely onto the back of the warhorse Lightning. The name made him smile like it always did, bringing Ezhra's beautiful face to mind. He knew it was dangerous to think of his love, they had said their goodbyes. He had finally done the right thing by her, but it was so hard to keep her from his thoughts. He knew it would only get worse as he would be riding south with Elion, whose personality was similar to Ezhra's own. All of the brothers were of stocky frames, like their father, with dark hair and blue eyes. Elion and Ezhra both resembled Rhaenion, Ezhra had taken the best bits of her mother, intelligent green eyes, sharp features in her defined cheekbones and full red lips in a slight frame. The youngest of the family had also inherited the facial features and smaller frame, only his eyes were blue and his hair chestnut brown like Rhaenion's. He took the slim figure of his mother and sister and made it masculine.

"Evindäl!" Elion had only spoken his name, but to his ears it was as loud as a cry. Elion had always been a mischievous lad but when he put his mind to something nothing stood in his way. His face was a strange mix of determination and boyish charm. "How was my sister? I hear she was here. I am sorry I was unable to see her." Evindäl felt a pang of sorrow for his friend, already two of his brothers had been lost and the others he never saw, they were always in the firing line of danger, teetering close to their own possible demise.

"Ezhra is well. After a premonition she is heading for Syriak. She was unsure of the meaning but there is someone arriving there, presumably another exile, who could sway the balance of the war. How is Lady Rhaenion? I fear she will be angrier with me than ever."

"My mother seems to think you are the only sane person left in Elindor, she sends her love and wishes she could have seen you before we left."

"Shall we be off then?" Evindäl called to the gathered men. There were almost fifty new recruits, a mix of elven, human and even two faeries. They all had to ride, even the faeries who grumbled a little but they had a similar stamina to humans and would not be able to keep up with the horses on feet or in flight.

"Well alright but I wish we could run, riding always leaves my arse feeling like it's had a good beating." Elion grumbled under his breath before kicking his heels into the horse's flanks and taking off.

"You're more like Ezhra than you would ever admit!" Evindäl called after him laughing, his friend turned back with a cheeky grin before leaning low on his horse and urging him forwards. The recruits quickly followed suit. Evindäl believed that the men would all look to Elion for advice and comradeship, after all his family were both famous and revered. Not to mention his sister was the first female elf to be welcomed into an Elindorian army. There's was certainly a gifted family and Evindäl expected nothing less than from the youngest. He would be a great advantage to their plight.

Aesa looked ahead, her heart roiling with anger waiting to be unleashed. Finally, after months of sitting in that ridiculous excuse for a boat with nothing to do bar think of all that she had lost, she felt as though they were working toward something. She had thought that her life had ended that day, as she had stared into the flames which had consumed her family and friends it had been as though her very existence was sucked in with the burning bodies. But she knew now she had been wrong, her life was not over, not yet. A heart breaking twist of fate had altered her path. Where once she had lived for those that she loved, her calling to heal those that were in need, bringing people back from the brink of death. Now her calling was of a new nature, she would now call death to those who deserved it most. Her life was vengeance, and until she had completed her mission and brought destruction down on those who had murdered her homeland, she would not rest. Once she had seen the terror in the eyes of the woman with the shaved head, on that day she would join her family and finally be at peace.

"Ezhra'lí?" She called, her voice as cold and dark as the thoughts running through her head.

"Please, call me Ezhra." The Lady said, riding close so that they could talk.

"You are a witch? You have magic within you?"

"Well, witch is actually quite a derogatory phrase especially for one of my race." She admonished, the smile playing across her lips told Aesa the Lady took no offence. But just to be sure she apologised, it would not do to anger the one person who seemed willing to help them on their quest.

"I apologise for any offense. Why for one of your race in particular?"

"All elves are magical, there has never in our history been one born with no Ability within them. Do not get me wrong, we have varying degrees of power, I myself am strong but there are others who have little grasp on their birth right."

"What happens to those who are weak?" She asked, unable to stem her curiosity.

"Nothing." Ezhra replied, her eyes widening at the question. "Elves are a fair race, we reproduce infrequently and all children are cherished. My mother is weak in Ability but loved by all. She often says that our Goddess Aodolys granted little Ability so as to give her more room to bare children. At most, an elf normally mothers two children. To have had six is a miracle and witnessed as an act of Aodolys' favour."

"Would Aunt Vita be known as a witch or something else?"

"Both of you, as you too hold power, would be known here as Weaver's. People granted Ability to Weave spells. Your individual powers are fascinating to me as they are not something I have seen before. And my own gifts are rare enough."

"Will you teach me? To harness the power I have been given?" Ezhra seemed to pause for a moment, though Aesa had no doubts she would say yes.

"I will, but you must first fully consider the path you are choosing to walk. You think of revenge, of bringing death to your enemies. But you have never seen the life leave a man's eyes and known that the words you had uttered a moment before are the cause of his demise. You have never held somebody close, as though embracing them tenderly, when in fact your fist is gripping the hilt of the sword in his gut. I know you want vengeance Aesa, but first you must fully accept what cost you will have to pay."

Aesa stared at the elf, her ire piquing at the words.

"You do not know me. You cannot understand my need for retribution." As she spoke her fingers clenched into fists and a flush of anger raced through her cheeks. When Ezhra met her eyes, Aesa saw such sadness there that she felt a tingling of regret overpowering her initial rage.

"You are right. I do not know you, but I do know vengeance. I had mine on the men who killed my brothers. I hunted them down until I felt their life blood spilling out of their bodies and over my own hands. I watched as the spark which was their life disappeared from their eyes. And for a moment, I felt truly alive. But that night, when I was alone in my tent, I had only the image of their dying eyes for company and for once I fully comprehended what I had done. To kill a man is not easy Aesa, no matter the cause; once a life ends there is no return. But I will help you to reap your revenge. I will teach you. But I implore you, do not base your life on hunting down those that have taken all that you had." Her words were fair and true, and whilst they offered Aesa a glimpse into the real Ezhra, they did not soothe her desire to kill the woman in black nor sedate her need to see the Svetians driven back. Ezhra spoke about her life, but she did not understand that Aesa's life had been her children and her husband.

"I cannot be deterred from my destiny. They took my life from me Ezhra and as you say, once it is gone there is no way of getting it back. All I can do is return the favour. But I appreciate your advice." She eventually said, they looked at each other a moment longer before Ezhra nodded her head and rode ahead.

"Then we start tonight." She called back over her shoulder and a spike of excitement shot through Aesa's otherwise icy heart.

Kadon looked down at the sharp end of the sword protruding from his chest. It seemed so surreal, poking out from beneath his tunic, it should hurt shouldn't it? To have a sword rip through your chest so violently it comes out the other side. Where was the pain? Where was death? He had strived all his life to be worth something, to make a difference in the world. When he had been selected with Matlok to travel with Ezhra he had been honoured. They both had, Matlok had been a friend from the first day they had met in camp. Matlok he wanted so badly to warn his friend but when he opened his mouth no sound came, only blood. On his knees he slid off the blade and crashed to the floor. Stabbed in the back with no chance of protecting himself the pain hit him full force. His insides felt like they were hideously torn apart, that brought an ironic smile. They were irrecoverably torn apart. He would die and his friend would die, they would never complete their mission and he would never see the face of his killer. With his face in the dirt, the only warmth offered by his own blood as it seeped into his clothes, Kadon drifted off into the black void of death.

Chapter 8

The rest of the day fled past swiftly, Aesa seemed only to have taken a couple of blinks before Ezhra led them off the road and into a small wooded copse. There was little talk as they worked together to make camp. Vita took charge of setting the fire and cooking a small pot of stew; Aesa had to admit it would have been helpful in the past to have Aunt Vita's skills in starting a blaze. Once they were all full and the fire had warmed the cool night air, Ezhra told Aesa to stand. They each stood on opposite sides of the fire and Aesa couldn't help but think of how different they must look. Ezhra was tall and slender with such beautiful features; Aesa had always been short with a more curvy physique. Her hair was unruly and had only become more so throughout the day, the humidity of Elindor a hindrance. Inside her heart was pounding and her stomach fluttered with butterflies more akin to the size of birds. She was about to embark upon her first lesson in magic. She had always known there was a chance she had some Ability, though it had been because she believed her father possessed magic not her mother. Ezhra raised one perfect eyebrow in question, are you ready? It suggested. She gritted her teeth and nodded once.

"There are rules and different rudiments to magic. Firstly, magic centres around the elements, earth, water, fire, air and spirit. I do not mean that you can control the elements, only that you can use them to bend to your will. For example, in battle I may want to pierce someone as though with a sword. I could combine air and fire, concentrating air to a sharp point and embodying it with heat I could send a very hot and very painful stab through someone." Aesa felt a burning prick touch her arm enough to draw a little blood. "In order to use the elements there must be something there to manipulate. Earth and air are everywhere and in large doses, even beneath the ocean there is earth. Whilst there is always heat in the air it is small and difficult to use. Only those strong in the Ability can Weave heat. It is the same for water, I could draw the water from the air but this is tiring and not very effective, when one is near to water, be it collected in a cup or a stream, or if it is a lake, it is possible to Weave it more effectively. No one before I met your family has been able to not only manipulate fire and water but control it. I could make a fire by drawing on the heat in the air and concentrating it on to kindling, but I could not myself make the fire grow unless there were heat for me to do so, the more heat I take from the fire the weaker the fire will be." Aesa nodded her understanding. "As I showed you the elements can be combined together to deadly or helpful effects, it is possible to join all four but this takes a very strong Weaver, mainly because fire and water do not co-exist. Trying to push the two forces together is like trying to push a house down with your bare hands. However, you command them both. It is fascinating for me to see you use both Aesa. Now I have explained the fundamental rules of Weaving, using the elements you can Weave magic together but you can also use incantations, spells if you like. Before we begin teaching you how to use spells and how to pull the elements together I want you to master your own personal gifts first."

"But aren't my 'gifts' just part of being able to Weave the elements?"

"Yes and no. Those are the fundamental rules of magic but some people develop personal gifts, Abilities. Take me for example, I am an Empath and I can see the future. In most people with magical ability their gifts stop with using the elements and spells. In rarer cases such as ours these added bonuses develop. Usually they develop when one is already trained in the usual aspects of the gift, in you it has developed first. I think it is a sign that this is the way you should learn." Aesa turned to Aunt Vita.

"How did it happen for you Aunt Vita?" She asked curiously.

"The same as Ezhra explained, first I found I could bring the elements together or weave them, then I began trying little spells I made up. Finally I was given the gift of fire. I think it goes with my nature." Vita said smiling. "It came after my accident when I threw myself into my studies and my practise with the canes."

"That's it exactly." Ezhra exclaimed excitedly. "Why it has worked this way for you I don't know, but I think we should go with it."

"I still don't understand how it is a different power if the fundamental rule is anyone can use fire."

"This is how I can use fire." Ezhra said opening her palm, a flame roughly the size of two closed fists spun in the area above her palm, but did not touch her skin. "If I were to touch it, it would burn me like any other flame, though I have brought it into being it is not part of me but part of the world around me. Your talents are different, you conjure the flames. Look Vita can show you the difference. Vita, do you mind? Now look at the two of us and the difference between our flames." Aesa looked and she saw instantly what Ezhra meant. Ezhra's ball of flame still floated above her palm, having grown, the air around Aesa went a little bit colder. Vita's fire was different, it came from Vita. Whilst the flames floated in the air before Vita's place on the ground, she wiggled her fingers and coaxed them closer until they were wrapping up her arms just as they had Aesa's. The flames licked her hands, her arms, touching, caressing but never burning. Ezhra directed her ball of flame at the kindling they had already built and the fire blazed brighter. "I want you to try and do the same as Vita."

"I don't know how."

"You need to imagine the flames, think of warmth and heat, welcome them both into your heart." Vita said with a wistful smile on her lips. Aesa looked between the two faces but knew she would get no more help than that. Looking down at her hand she tried to imagine the skin covered with soft flames, but try as she might it would not come. Changing tack she looked into the red-orange flames dancing in the fire pit. She stared into them, watching the colours and the flickering, beautiful movement of the flames, as she watched she stroked the palm of her hand with her fingers. Fire was welcoming, a guiding light in the darkness, the promise of warmth in the cold night, friend to any traveller, she welcomed fire. She noticed no change but the others all cried out in praise breaking her concentration, she looked down at the flames now dancing around her hand and wrist. This could bring help or pain. It was part of her. She lifted her hand up and watched, she wiggled her fingers through the flames, which were warm, just the right temperature. They soothed her, wrapped up her arm like a friend. She paid no heed to the others as she walked closer to the fire pit. When Ezhra saw what she was planning she cried out for her to stop, the Lady was next to her in the blink of an eye but not quickly enough, she thrust her hand, the hand consumed by flames, into the burning hot fire before her, she had expected pain, she had anticipated the alien blaze would burn her but it did not, it tickled her warmly, teasingly. Bringing her left hand closer she felt the intense heat for the first time and pulled away quickly. Stepping back she grinned. Pulling the fire back into herself was natural, normal. Ezhra was looking at her as though she were mad, maybe she was. Vita and Ema both stared at her, as though seeing her for the first time.

"That was incredible." She breathed. Ezhra suddenly burst into laughter, the sound filled the quiet forest.

"A warrior indeed." She muttered to herself. "I wonder if you can do the opposite, take fire into yourself." Ezhra mused.

"I don't think that's a good idea, what if you burn yourself?" Vita asked anxiously.

"I don't think I can burn, at least not on this side." Aesa replied holding up her left hand.

"It was your right hand that brought forth ice in the Inn." Ezhra said excitedly. "Do you want to try the ice?" A weary sigh nearly escaped, fatigue pushed at her conscience but Aesa felt a need to try. In this part of her gift, Aesa was on her own. Aunt Vita had already explained that whilst Sana's unique gift had been control of ice, it had been one she could rarely control or use. As predicted by Vita's words, try as she might the ice refused to return. With a pang of disappointment she stopped trying and told the others she was too tired to continue. All four of them seemed about ready to sleep where they stood, so she offered to take first watch so as to give the others the chance to rest and herself the time to think about her new found Abilities.

Ezhra lay looking up at the stars, secretly whispering a plea to the Moon God Fealos to give her strength in the next part of her journey. For even the slimmest possibility of survival of Elindor she would travel to the ends of the world and back again, she would conquer beasts, men and the gods of the Svetian's themselves, but to step into the home of Irissa was too much to bear alone. She had heard enough of Maric's offspring to expect only contempt from the Princess. Whilst both Evindäl and Faelyn were raised to rule, their parents always instilled in them a sense of modesty and humility. They had never had to go without but had been raised to always be grateful for that which they had. Irissa had been pampered and spoilt, raised to believe she belonged on the throne and her subjects belonged to her. Nearly a decade ago Ezhra's brother Dashél had been called to Rhebeth when Franko had been influxed with an ailment which none of his own healers could fix. On his return he had told her of the child. How she had looked upon Dashél's ears and turned to her mother and asked for ears just like those. Maric had as good as ignored the child, instead staring out the window as though her mind were elsewhere. Irissa had tugged on the ornate gown worn by the queen, but could not raise a response. Trying to help, Dashél had explained to the young princess that he was an elf. She had shown interest, wanting to know what an elf was. So he had explained, all the while treating the King. He had told her how he would live for thousands of years, how he could move quicker than most humans could track, how all of his children would be born with magic ability as was the right of an elf. And he told her how all children were cherished by not only their family, but the rest of the elven community. When Dashél had told Ezhra of that day, his dark blue eyes had been filled with a deep sorrow.

"When I talked of children, her eyes welled up. She looked over at her mother who was as still and lifeless as a statue and I could see it in her, her desperation to be loved and accepted by her mother." And then she had let out a long scream which lasted until her personal maid rushed to her side. When asked what the matter was, she replied:

"I want to be an elf." When told that there was nothing any of them could do to make it so she had screamed again. According to Dashél she was still screaming when he had made his leave of the castle and was walking away. A shiver ran down her spine. How would Aesa react to the ice which now resided in her mother's heart?
Chapter 9

On their third day of travelling over the unbroken terrain, Vita spotted a change in scenery ahead. A forest stretched out before them, its towering oaks and heavy foliage whispered reminders of home and of her beloved Bewychwood Forest. She ached to reach the trees and rest her hands upon the worn bark. But with the happy memories of home, so too came the echo of her scream as Aesa had told her of the demise of Renfall. And so the solitary and saddened group led their horses into the shade, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, it was Ema who broke the silence.

"Do all elves look like you?" She asked so suddenly she took them all by surprise.

"No, we are as different as any human. Though the mark of my eyes and ears attest to my race, that is the main similarity." Ezhra replied, smiling fondly.

"Are all elves as beautiful as you?" Ema pressed and Vita couldn't help a little smile at how the child's second question had caught Ezhra even more off guard.

"Well, erm. I suppose most elves are thought to be beautiful. When we lived among the trees, we were known by the humans as the fair race."

"I would like to be an elf so that I can be as brave and beautiful as you when I am older." Ezhra's cheeks flushed with colour at the compliment, and Vita could see a spark of a memory in her eyes.

"I am afraid child, that no human can ever become an elf. But why you would ever look further than your own reflection to see beauty I do not know! And bravery my dear, comes from within."

"My ma was brave." Ema whispered, now looking at her small hands, the innocence of the moment broken as her hands shook and tears fell from her eyes. "When she couldn't find Luca and Nora she risked getting past the men killing everyone to get me out. Then she went back in. To get them." She looked up, looking now at Aesa whose face was frozen in shock. "She told me she was going to look for them, said she would find them and Arina and Alek. She promised me she wouldn't leave without finding all four of them." Vita could feel the burning in the back of her throat, the tears wanting to come out knowing that dear Letty had tried to save them. Aesa's eyes a moment ago lifeless, now sparkled with tears and pride. And at least for a moment, Vita got to see a glimpse of her niece.

They rode for most of the day, following the path which meandered through the trees, it had been built with as little disruption to its surroundings as possible, sometimes veering to the left so as to circle the ancient trees rather than go through them. Seeing the care in which the builders had taken to maintain the natural layout of the forest made Aesa smile, it was much the same as how her and Aunt Vita had travelled through the Bewychwood Forest, there had been old paths worn into the ground, not used for centuries but still there, hidden beneath the foliage. They had followed such paths as they wove through the forest. As she fondly remembered their annual trips to the Healers Hand, her memory stunned her back to reality. She saw the army devouring her forest, killing the plants and the trees which stood in their way. She remembered the young man as the witch had stroked his face as tenderly as a lover, kissing him softly before striking the head from his shoulders. She must not think on the happiness she once felt, for with it came memories of blood, death and destruction. Instead she must think only of revenge. The sun began to make its descent. Ezhra had explained that her race believed the sun was their Goddess watching over them, Aodolys. Aesa did not know if she could ever believe in a god again, her own had abandoned her and she them. But the way in which Ezhra spoke of Aodolys the Sun and her brother Fealos the Moon was inspiring in its tenacity. There was no doubt in Ezhra's voice, even with monsters killing her people she fervently believed that her gods looked down upon Elindor, helping by granting Abilities.

"Will we be stopping shortly?" She asked, normally they would begin making camp by now.

"Soon. We come to a bend in the path up ahead, bloody hard to find in the day going to be a nightmare in the dark. It will lead us to Farland's farm. He is a dear friend of my father and will offer us a warm bed and shelter for the night, it may be the last time we sleep on a cot for a while!" Ezhra replied, turning her head back to talk to Aesa, trusting in her horse to guide her.

"Are they like you?" Aesa heard herself ask before she could stop her curiosity, as soon as she had spoken she felt a slight flush spread in her cheeks, embarrassed lest she offended the Lady. But Ezhra gave her a warm smile as though to reassure her. Whilst they knew Ezhra had Empathy powers, she had explained she kept it at bay, Aesa couldn't help but notice how intuitive Ezhra was.

"They are human. My father has known Farland since he was a very young man barely entered adulthood. My first memories of him are when I was a child and he about seventeen summers old. Farland had inherited his father's lands when he passed away unexpectedly. He also inherited his title as Lord and so had to travel to Imindra to present himself to the King. It is a traditional thing, rather bloody pointless really but tradition is what it is! Anyway, he appeared, so young the hair upon his face was little more than fluff. And he presented himself before the court by saying he had found a new use of the Cratra plants his father had farmed. They were used as a delicacy often served as a dessert; nowhere but the forest here had the right climate or soil consistency to farm the plants so it had made his father a wealthy man. But Farland had stewed the leaves and brewed a new type of drink. So strong he claimed just three small shots could see a man on his back, but the taste was wonderful." As she spoke, Aesa could see that Vita and Ema were as enthralled in the enjoyable memory as she was. "Now, Cratra is a known plant and so everyone in court was aware that the leaves of the Cratra plant are in fact poison. Not a single elf nor man would try even the slightest sip. But my father has always been the curious sort, my Mother begged him to sit down but he is a damn stubborn fool sometimes. Myself and my brothers were there, all looking up at him towering above us, I remember feeling so proud that our Father was the bravest man in all of Imindra. He looked down at me and smiled, offering me a wink and ruffling the hair on Dashél's head, before he stepped before Farland. Now Farland is sweating as though sat in the midst of an inferno, a slight man he looked like a child next to my father. But he thanked Father for his support and together, they toasted to the health of the King and downed the drink in one. Now, most of the members of court are in the reception room, and so hundreds of eyes are boring into Father and Farland as they look into each other's eyes, the whole room is so silent you could hear the low gulping noise Father made as he swallowed the drink. All of a sudden he lets out a bellowing laugh and demands another! He drank three shots before he fell on his arse. And that is how my Father became friends with Farland and how Farland became one of the richest men in the kingdom." They all laughed as she finished her tale, and even Aesa felt caught up in the spirit of the nervous young man and the imposing elf. "My Father will mourn for decades when Farland passes." Ezhra whispered, Aesa doubted her sad words were meant for anyone to hear so she kept quiet. However, there was a definite drop in the mood once more and she couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for the elven race, destined to live thousands of years watching loved ones pass too soon. "Ah! We are here." Ezhra exclaimed, leaping from her horse and searching around in the enclosing darkness. "Where is that bloody opening." She muttered before finally letting out a cry of delight. "Ah-ha! This way!" As she drew near, Aesa could see why it had been difficult for Ezhra, the surrounding bush had been placed so as to look like an on-going wall of green, but there was a small opening by the ground, barely big enough for them to crawl through let alone get the horses and cart by. Ezhra disappeared through the opening leaving her horse behind, but before the rest of them could even think of following suit, the section right before them pulled back like a door. "There is a mechanism Anria, Farland's wife, invented which stops prying eyes from getting in here too easily!"

They rode on for a while, the path behind the unusual opening wide enough for the cart, the trees lining the road were tightly packed making it difficult to look further than those closest to them. It had an oddly calming influence on Vita, like no one could harm them whilst they were in this cocoon. As the moon officially took over the sky and they could barely see each other in the darkness, a light became visible up ahead. Suddenly they were riding between rows and rows of plants, their leaves looked black in the darkness but their petals were bright purple with blood red veins which seemed to shine in the night sky. There was a large wooden house, simple in its design with a porch outside which reminded her of home. The door was carved with what looked to be an image of the plants which grew in rows all around them. Beyond the house Vita could see there were further dwellings and more rows of the plants. A small and balding man was rushing toward them grinning widely, his back was slightly stooped and what was left of his hair was grey but there was still a spring in his step as he called out for Ezhra. She was off her horse and in his arms in the blink of an eye.

"Oh my girl! How happy I am to see you again." He cried out, calling back at the house. "Anria, come quick Ezhra has come to visit!" Even in the darkness, Vita could see the gleaming of tears in Farland's eyes. "I have been so worried I would not get to look upon you once more my dear." His words seemed to sadden Ezhra, whose shoulders slumped slightly. An elderly lady came out of the house and walked down the steps as quickly as she could with the cane at her side to aid her. Even in old age the woman was radiant, her silver hair pulled into a bun leaving her proud and beautiful face bare, the wrinkles at her eyes and mouth attested to a life full of laughter and the slight tan on her cheeks hinted that she still worked the fields. She too had tears of joy at seeing Ezhra again.

"Please, let me introduce my friends. Healers Vita and Aesa, and Ema." The three of them all nodded their hello's.

"Welcome! All of you are so very welcome. Now come inside and get some proper food in you." Farland demanded, ushering Anria in to start getting supper ready. Ezhra helped Vita from the cart and soon enough they were all seated at a worn oak table, large enough to fit many more around it than the five of them. The house, though large, was simple and it smelled of home baking and warmth. Farland carried a large pot into the room hanging it onto the stove so as to keep warm. Anria following him in with bread still steaming from the oven. Thick pieces of lamb and vegetables dug up only that day made up the stew they ate with relish. Life on the road certainly had its setbacks and as she savoured the flavours assailing her tongue she could not help but think of all the plain meals they had been living off. As they ate, Farland asked Ezhra of Imindra and the welfare of the King and Queen. It did not take long for talk of war to begin.

"Farland! Let the girl finish her supper at least. Why don't you go and fetch Lenia whilst our guests finish eating." He looked upon his wife lovingly, stopping to give her cheek a kiss before heading up the stairs at the front of the house. "Lenia is our granddaughter." Anria explained.

"I have not seen her since she was barely four summers old!" Ezhra remarked, quickly finished her supper and looking through the door. "In your last letter you said she had inherited your mother's gifts."

"Oh yes, and she grows in spirit every day." Anria said, her pride evident. Aesa offered to wash up and took Ema to help dry. As they returned, Farland entered, accompanied by a young woman, she looked barely younger than Ezhra making it even harder to fathom that the elf was nearly one hundred. Lenia had dark red hair, the colour of a violent flame, which hung straight down her back, her eyes were the colour of green ivy and they hinted at a pride and determination not yet realised. She was polite and kind hearted, seeing Ema's eyes drooping she offered to take her to bed. Ema nodded smiling slightly, even lifting her arms up for a carry making them all laugh. Lenia reached down and lifted the child on to her hip. As she turned away Ema rested her head upon her shoulder, their hair falling together; in that moment Vita could have been looking at Letty and Ema, and as she heard Aesa's sharp intake of breath she knew her niece felt the same way. Anria placed an aging hand over Vita's, her cocoa coloured eyes bright with knowledge. The contact was enough to ease her trembling and stem the tears. Whilst she appreciated the gesture, Vita could not help wishing it were Aesa's hand on hers. Instead her niece's eyes were aflame with anger. She doubted that would ever leave.

"I can see that you have been through a lot, all three of you. But wherever you are from and wherever you are headed, know that you will always be safe and welcome here." Anria had a warm voice, it flowed like honey and even Vita felt comforted. Farland and Ezhra continued their conversation about the war, whilst Anria served small round brightly coloured food which she said were sweets made from the plants they grew. The taste was unlike anything Vita had ever tried and the sweets truly melted on one's tongue.

"How are your Father and brothers? I hear from your mother still, she is so kind to think of us." Farland said, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he smiled fondly.

"As well as can be expected. Dashél's healing is possibly one of our greatest assets. Though I know he still suffers knowing he could not save Almar and Aimar."

"My dear girl I am so sorry. They were brave men and they died with honour, protecting each other unto the end." Vita felt ashamed to be privy to such a private moment, particularly when she saw the tears sliding down Ezhra's beautiful face.

"Twas my first vision which saw to their demise." Ezhra whispered eventually, staring into the kind eyes of Farland. The desperate plea in her voice said that she had never discussed this, never felt able to speak of the night.

"I knew your brothers well; if they had known what was to pass they still would have waded in willingly. They fought and died to save hundreds of men. You should not dishonour their memories by wishing you had protected them." He spoke kindly, his voice soft and his hand over hers. In the small conversation, Vita could see the respect and reverence Ezhra held for the man.

"You are right, as usual. I bloody hate being wrong and you know it old man!" Ezhra exclaimed, throwing her long arms into the air in exasperation; her outburst threw Vita off but Farland and Anria both took it within their stride, almost looking as though they had anticipated the move. "You should know that your son fights well. He is making you proud."

"Drevan has always made me proud, but to know that he leads a squadron of men to protect us fills me with both fear and admiration in equal measure." As they spoke, Lenia returned. Without needing to convey it to each other, Ezhra and Farland ended their talks of Drevan and the war, instead he looked at Aesa and Vita.

"Wherever you have come from you must have luck on your side! To have found someone like my girl here to travel with, she will be loyal to the end." He said cheerily, apparently his intuition was not quite as good as his wives. Vita could feel the outrage roll off her niece as Aesa pushed herself out of the chair and onto her feet. Aesa had never been a tall woman, but her eyes were icy blue, no emotion save for rage shining from deep within, it was enough to intimidate even the toughest of men.

"If you think our journey has been a lucky one you are mistaken. We thank you for your hospitality but know that if it were not for the monsters who ravaged our home and murdered our family we would not be here now. Instead, I would be putting my babes to bed, holding my husband's hand and feeling the life beat within him. Ema would be with her parents and brother and sister, blissfully unaware of the cruel nature of the world outside of our village. My Aunt would be using her gifts to Heal the people of our village. Now there is no one to heal, no children to tuck under the blankets. No mother for Ema to kiss goodnight. You speak of luck, but the truth is that our luck ran out the day we were left alive whilst all around us we watched our people burn." Vita could not tear her eyes from Aesa, the passion and rage within spilling out before she finally spun and stormed out of the room into the back yard. The silence stretched on unbearably. What could one say to that? Sorry was simply not enough, would never be enough.

Aesa stormed out of the room, hands clenched in fists and arms pumping at the sides as she fled down the garden path. There was so much hate within her she could not contain it. As she reached the end of the garden her legs failed her and she fell to her knees in a heap; one long scream escaping her lips and she cried for her family. Whenever she closed her eyes, their faces swam in her vision. She could walk amongst them, so close she should be able to touch them, but her hands would pass through their flesh as though they were made from smoke. And then the fires would come, huge raging infernos would consume those before her until all that was left was Letty. Lying on the ground, blood spilled down her dress like a bib. Her lifeless eyes staring out seeing nothing. The dreams would never stop, and Aesa knew that she was losing herself, her grasp on reality and her sanity. Behind her, she could hear the light tread of feet on the gravel. It could not be her Aunt for the canes would make a very different noise and she did not think Ezhra would make any noise if she did not want to be heard. Instead, the granddaughter, Lenia knelt beside her.

"No words can convey how sorry myself and my family are for your loss, and nothing can bring them back to you. But I have gifts which may help ease your suffering. If you would like, I would willingly offer them to you." They sat beneath the moon and the stars, and in the soft light the pale girl looked younger than her years, her round face so full of innocence, but the eyes held knowledge and wisdom which were beyond the years her face spoke of. Aesa could not find her voice, so instead she nodded her thanks and her consent.

Within an hour, they were all sat on crude log benches which had been cut and placed in a small clearing of the forest a short walk from the house, the trees formed a perfect circle around them and the moonlight fell in one heavy beam. Farland had apologised for his poor choice in words, and though her heart still boiled, Aesa knew that he had meant no harm. Lenia was nowhere to be seen, but when she had asked what was going on Anria had told her it would be so much more beautiful if she knew nothing of what to expect. So instead, both herself and Aunt Vita sat impatiently, waiting to witness the mystical magic of Lenia. Finally, the young woman stepped before them, now only clad in a white dress with long sleeves which fitted the definition in her arms perfectly, the dress itself was looser, cinched at the waist with a white plaited belt and fell to her mid thighs in points, the dress revealed a tattoo which snaked around Lenia's right ankle of a vine of dark green ivy. It was an odd ensemble but it seemed to have significance as Anria squeezed Aesa's hand gently, signalling to her that this was it. From her vantage point, Aesa could not see, but when she had first walked into the clearing there had been small circles of coloured powder spread throughout the clearing. At a nod from his granddaughter, Farland took up a steady beat on the small drum he held between his knees. His nimble fingers patted out a rhythm which was both mesmerising and beautiful. As he played, Lenia stretched out her limbs, allowing her long slender arms to reach up to the highest point and standing on the very tips of her toes. She held the position for a moment, and as Aesa blinked her eyes Lenia was off. She spun through the air in a full circle, landing in a crouch in a circle of powder, the orange colour flying high as she landed, covering part of her dress. But she did not stop, she jumped from circle to circle, flying leaping spinning. The dance so beautiful Aesa did not dare blink. The moves were graceful and impressive, and Aesa could almost taste the magic in the air. But it was when Lenia opened her mouth and began to sing that Aesa felt tears fill her eyes. The song was in a language she did not understand, but she could hear the mourning in the words and the emotions behind the voice. Even with her eyes closed and her mouth working, Lenia did not miss one step. She continued to fly through the air, landing in crouches, on her hands, on her knees. Always moving, always singing. The powder flying up in the clearing, covering her dress and her skin, remnants continuing to float up in the air in the moonlight as though it clung to the beams of light, unwilling to let go. As her words rang out Aesa could feel some of the tension leave her body, and when Lenia landed in the red powder, her hands and her bare feet both pushing it into the air it was as though someone were pulling on the fury inside her. Her body was resistant, did not want to let it go. But the pull of the magic was intoxicating and soon she felt that too release itself and float upward. As the drum stopped abruptly, Lenia held onto her last note letting it ring through the air, a note of finality and clarity. When she too grew silent, her white dress an array of colours, her hair flying in the breeze, Aesa was unashamed to feel her tears flowing freely, it was possible that the magic she had just witnessed was the most magnificent thing she had ever seen. There was a moment of silence in the clearing, each individual reacting in their own way, wiping away tears, taking deep breaths. Finally, Lenia's tranquil face broke out in a smile.

"It may not be much, but I have done what I can for all of you." She said, almost shyly. When Aesa closed her eyes to sleep that night, she saw all of her loved ones together, and as she reached to touch them she felt the life beating within them in the warmth of their skin. And she slept, truly slept.

Chapter 10

The travelling companions set off at the crack of dawn, the heavy forest keeping most of the morning light away and casting a gloomy light over their journey. Nobody spoke, but Ezhra could see there was a slight difference in the women she travelled with. Vita's knowing eyes glanced less at her niece, and Aesa's shoulders were held back, her eyes less vacant than the day before. She herself could feel the effects of the evening, her love for Evindäl still shone brightly, but she also felt a glimmer of hope for her future.

"Ezhra, not that I don't appreciate whatever it bloody is that Lenia did for us, but what just what exactly did she bloody do?" Vita suddenly called out from her seat on the cart. Ezhra couldn't help but laugh, she liked this woman and her insistent curiosity, her pride and determination. Even in the face of an injury which would affect and hinder her life, the woman had battled through. She could already see the definition in Vita's arms showing through, after over threes moon at sea Vita had begun practising every day, she would insist she be allowed to walk a while so as to build up the muscle, even when travelling in the cart she would practise by lifting some of their supplies, each day moving to slightly heavier items. The inner strength in the woman was commendable.

"Lenia has been gifted with a rare power, it is mainly genetic, passed down to female members of the family. Lenia's great grandmother was the last known Dreamer."

"What is a Dreamer?" Aesa asked with less of the abruptness of her Aunt.

"A Dreamer invokes her power through dance, as you saw last night. They sing in only the language of Dreams and the powders which you saw Lenia use last night have a significance to Dreamers which we can never understand. The colours meanings are unique to the individual Dreamer, for Lenia's predecessor the green may have meant peace, but when Lenia dances it could mean love. Dreaming is a powerful gift, and one which grows with use and age. With one dance an experienced Dreamer could make you believe you are in love with another, could persuade you that war is the only option to save your people. Lenia is only just coming into her gifts, but to be able to dance for all of us and ease our suffering in different ways hints at hidden depths we may only see in years to come."

"Would a Dreamer be useful to an army?" Aesa asked, her horse leading the way.

"Yes and no. They must be with the person they wish to influence, especially one as young as Lenia. A Dreamer who has had her gifts for a couple of decades and is strong in the power may be able to dance from afar, focusing the meaning of the Dream on people she cannot see. But it is a dangerous game, another could intercept the Dream and be taken in by it instead. If Lenia were to join the army, she would be better as a soldier whilst still learning to grasp her abilities. Typically, a Dreamer also possesses no other magical abilities, Lenia is no different." As she spoke, Ezhra could visualise the dance of the night before. It was a truly breathtaking sight and one she was glad to have witnessed. "Many Dreamers of the past offered their gifts for public use, some at a cost, others for those most needing. Others had kept their gifts a secret, but there was one thing all Dreamers had in common- the mystery surrounding their gifts. Throughout Elindor, Dreamers are not well known. The majority of people, if asked, would know nothing of the secretive Dreamers, nor would they recognise that there was any significance in the title. But there have been those who coveted the gift. The mad King Kenweald had been one such character. Early in his reign, when he had been full of life, vibrant and well-liked by the populace, Kenweald had travelled the kingdom to meet his subjects. On one such journey, he met the alluring Alia. She was young, naive and ready for love. Though he had a wife, Kenweald courted the girl, and within the week she was madly in love and left her life behind to follow him back to his palace. Alia had been a girl of sixteen, having grown up in a loving family with villagers who adored her, she was wholly unprepared for the reception she would receive by the Queen and her loyal aides. The Queen, who was past thirty summers and still a creature of awed beauty, felt betrayed and humiliated by Kenweald's flaunting of his new mistress. Alia was not accepted, nor was she welcomed. So, she found her solace in dancing. And over the years, her dependence on the intoxicating magic of Dream dancing took hold of her, her love for Kenweald twisting into a desperate need to never be alone. For she knew, that should she ever lose Kenweald's favour, the Queen Mäyan would have her killed. Kenweald knew of Alia's situation, and of her fierce loyalty for him. Together with Mäyan, they used Alia's weaknesses against her, and soon she was dancing Dream's which saw to the destruction of any enemy against the king."

"That poor girl." Vita shook her head sadly.

"I think, in the end, she knew what she had become. On her thirtieth birthing day, Alia was found dead upon her powders. It is said there was no mark on her, nothing to explain her sudden demise. But there are those who believe she Dreamed herself to death, that after helping kill thousands of people she could no longer live with the guilt."

"What do you believe?" Aesa asked, her voice gentle.

"I believe that Alia wished for death, my father lived in Kenweald's reign, and he knows that it was her Dreaming which helped see the ruin of our forests, the destruction of the faeries lands and the demise of the dragons. In my heart, I believe that she could no longer live with the knowledge that the man she had loved with all of her soul had twisted her gifts into tools to murder. To know the elven race now is not to know our true selves. Once, when we were the fair folk, we lived alone in our forests, never wanting for anything save the company of our race and the peaceful lives we had always led. The enemies which Alia killed for Kenweald were in some cases innocent, in others not. But to help bring about the destruction of a whole race, that act is unthinkable and unforgivable. So yes, I believe Alia chose the honourable way out. She chose death." The story of Alia the Dreamer was a common one amongst elves, many feared the magic Dreamers possessed but her father had taught her to never be afraid of anything until it shows its intent. For one to look upon her, with a sword at her hip and magic boiling inside her waiting to be unleashed, you could claim she was lethal, a weapon that could destroy thousands. But it was her intent which decided whether she was to be used in that way or not. When King Elmon's sire had taken the throne from the mad King, he had vowed to keep the true extent of Alia's involvement secret, for fear future men may try and covet the powers for themselves. His act had also led to the fierce loyalty of Alia's descendants, Farland's wife Anria included.

"What about these forests you speak of?" Vita asked, but with the question came a feeling within Ezhra of dread and fear.

"I will not speak of it this day, my apologies but there are some things which are too difficult to talk about." She eventually replied. The great sadness took over her, as it did any elf who thought upon what they had lost. For in truth, the day the forests had burned was the day a part of the elves had died.

"That is something we can understand. Isn't it Aunt Vita?" Aesa said softly, throwing a glance back at Vita which stopped her from saying any more, it was kindness which Ezhra welcomed gladly.

Chapter 11

Evindäl ran a hand back through his chestnut coloured hair before pushing the book before him away. He was seated in one of the hundreds of chairs throughout the great library, books piled high on the table before him and pieces of parchment marked with his scribbles beneath them all. The library sat in the very centre of the School of Enlightenment, with eight doors on every one of its eight levels. Normally, it would be a hive of activity with scholars of all variety using the wealth of knowledge stored away here. But at this time, the School was but a shell of its former glory. As their armies gave up ground, they lost soldiers every day. Many of the scholars, Weavers and non-magical alike, had followed their King to war. The School had become but a shadow when likened to its once bustling corridors. The longer the war dragged on, the more afraid Evindäl became that the all too quiet and eerie atmosphere in the School would be the fate of his people. Needing to rest his eyes from the varying print across the tomes he had been reading night and day, Evindäl stood up to stretch his legs. He was on the first level of the library, which sat beneath the ground. It was both the crudest and yet his favourite of all the rooms. He favoured it over the others for its simplicity. When standing within the rough rocks which the room was carved from, he could almost envisage how it would have been to stand in this spot as the School was first raised to store knowledge all those years ago. To him, the underground room was truly majestic. The walls were carved from the rock beneath the School, dark grey in colour with an array of tapestries adorning the bare spaces between shelves. The images mainly depicted scenes of the time leading up to the School being built, agricultural pictures, images of life in the cities, famous families, there was even a picture of a dragon; it's green wings spread wide in flight, a long lean body with a ridged back and a tail as long as three houses. The picture had always saddened Evindäl, he may never have known the dragons, never have seen them fly overhead nor heard their roars shake the earth; but he, like all of his kin, still felt the loss as though the devastating crime had happened only yesterday. He stared upon the face of the great dragon as he stretched his tired limbs. Black eyes the size of a humans head took in the scenery beneath and ahead, the expression deep within hinted at desperation, as though he had been searching for something. The landscape itself was not one Evindäl recognised, sand akin to the grains which ran along the beaches of the coast spread out in a wave, a red hot sun burned down from the sky and there was little life in the barren desert. Evindäl had travelled throughout all of Elindor, the few places he had not personally visited he had learnt about. Staring upon the picture, he was sure that this place was not of his world. A curiosity sparked in him, a need to know more of the bare picture before him, his eyes had frequently been drawn to it over the last few days, presuming the barren background was to stop any attention being drawn away from the majestic dragon. But now he looked closer, his previous assumptions burned away. He couldn't help but feel an affinity with the picture. How long had it been here? Who was the artist who had gone to such depths with the details? He walked forward, his footsteps ringing out on the stone floor. His heart thundered in anticipation, his head reeling with possibilities. As he stepped right up to the tapestry, his toes practically touching the wall, he peered into the eye of the dragon; the air left his lungs in a rush of exhilaration, he could have sworn the dragon were looking back at him, sending him a message. It took a while, but finally, Evindäl saw it, the clue, what he had been searching for. There, in the very eye of the dragon was a faint outline of a man, as though man and beast were watching each other.

"Rolan!" He roared suddenly, his cry echoed through the room and brought the scholar running. "Do you have a magnifying glass?" Rolan was an aging scholar who had been left behind to watch over the books. He walked with a limp and needed looking glasses to see, but his mind was sharp and no matter the request he never queried, simply acted. Today, with a nod he rushed away, returning not long after with a small magnifying glass. Evindäl knew that he could very well be the first to have seen the small image since its inception, so light it would be all but invisible to a human's eye. Now, as he looked through the looking glass he could see the facial features clear as day. And what he saw left him speechless. The man was as determined as the dragon, together they searched. Evindäl had seen his face before, in the palace there hung a tapestry of which he knew every detail by heart. The man in the picture was Evindäl's Grandfather, the first elven King of Elindor- Leontis. Staring upon the face of the King, Evindäl knew that he had found the clue he was looking for. "Rolan, we have done it! Finally, I have a lead!" In his excitement, he clapped the scholar on the shoulder sending him flying into the wall. The show of strength was a horrifying reminder to Evindäl how much damage he could reap and he could not help but think of the Princess Irissa, soon to be his wife. "I am so sorry." He apologised but Rolan waved it off.

"I may not be immortal but I am old enough to have met an elf before, I know you meant no harm your Highness." His words brought a smile to Evindäl's face, it was necessary to keep his full capabilities hidden and it was a blessing for Rolan to recognise the harmlessness behind his action.

"Well then, let's go. I must ready my horse and be on my way within the hour."

"You are leaving? Where will you go Highness?"

"I ride to the lost forests of Myrení. It is time I return home." He replied, though he feared the emotions he would feel when he stepped beneath the trees of his true home. "It is time I awake my Grandfather."

Elion stood in the very centre of the war camp, around him were the men he had travelled with. Despite their youthful faces, every one of them stood proudly, shoulders back and head held high, both fists crossed over their chests in salute as King Elmon stepped before them. Elion could see his father was present but he kept his eyes fixed upon his liege.

"You have ridden here today to join an army. To join my army. The bravery you have shown brings honour to your families. I cannot promise you every battle we face will lead to victory, nor can I vouch for your safety. But let me assure you that no death goes unmourned, no murder goes unpunished. For every one of my men they cut down, I will see a hundred of them slaughtered. We are the defenders of our people, the protectors of our lands, and we will not go down without a fight! Are you ready men, to fight for what you believe in, to take arms against the foul creatures who have invaded our lands and spilled innocent blood?" Elion's cry was lost amidst the cheers. "Then welcome, men of Elindor. Your King is honoured to have you join ranks!" As Elmon strode away Elion caught the eye of his father who nodded in greeting and offered a small smile, it warmed his heart to see his father again. The camp held hundreds of thousands of people, tents were erected seemingly haphazardly but as Captain Reyn stepped forward and assigned them to their ranks it quickly became apparent that order was everywhere. Elion was assigned under Captain Reyn himself who directed him to their tents but before he could make his way there Dashél appeared amidst the men. His brother was taller than most of those congregated, though there was a faery who hovered in the air taller still. Elion and Dashél could not be any more different, Dashél was stocky whilst Elion was slender, Dashél reserved whilst Elion boisterous. Despite their differences the two had always shared a deep bond and Elion felt his heart swell at seeing his brother. Being the youngest of six children, Elion had grown up surrounded by teasing and Dashél had always been the one to pick him up when he was down, or to make him see reason when he was angered. They embraced fiercely, Dashél's strong hands grasping him as though afraid if he let go Elion may slip away.

"How I wish you were back home brother." He eventually whispered, his remark did not offend Elion, for he knew the meaning behind the words.

"None of us are safe, no matter where we are. If we are to go down I want to stand beside you. Now stand back, let me look at you! Are you hurt?" He pushed his brother away, keeping one fist around his shoulder he looked him up and down for any marks, despite Dashél's stocky frame he was not a fighter, his Ability to Heal was far more needed than his sword arm so Elion knew it was doubtful he would hold any injury but he had to make sure. His brother swiped him away with one of his large hands.

"So you heard about Ezhra then?"

"Evindäl rode with us for a while, he told me of the scar. Mother will be furious!" His brother laughed, his voice rich and deep.

"Aye I think you're right! Other than that she is perfectly fine. As it was not a drastic injury she was not brought to me, though I hear she demanded to be left alone. Always was a stubborn thing, she stitched the wound closed herself." Elion did not doubt it. "Now what of Mother, is she well?" Though the question was anticipated, it still brought a pang of hurt.

"When I told her I was leaving she refused to speak to me. I have made her life awful for many years, always playing tricks and jokes on her and the house, but she has always welcomed me back no matter what I did. On the morning I left, she came out with the rest of the household to wave me off. The hurt in her eyes was more than I could bare and I nearly rode off without so much as a goodbye. She pulled me close, saying nothing. When I stepped away she cried out, calling for Aimar and Almar. She screamed out to Aodolys to watch over me, begged her to protect me. Her words bordered on hubris Dashél."

"What did she say brother?" Dashél asked, his voice tender and concerned.

"She asked if she had been granted the ability to birth so many children so that she could watch each die. Mother has always been implacable, nothing could move her, but I fear something in her has broken."

"Come Elion, Mother will be fine, I promise you. Edraele will visit, or invite Mother to the Palace. Nobody can soothe Mother like the Queen. Now, come Ayred wants us to dine together tonight. Your squadron is a part of his command so your tent is in the same direction anyway." And just like that, the youngest of the Lucianno family followed his brother and was soon swallowed into the midst of the army.

Chapter 12

Aesa allowed her horse to follow behind Ezhra, lost in her own mind. They had left Farland's house three nights hence and yet they still travelled beneath the trees. With no sign of human life after they left the cratra farm, Aesa found the natural sounds of the forest serene. For so long peace had escaped her, but as she rode amidst the trees, the scent of leaves and dirt in her nose and the sound of animals going about their lives, Aesa felt that peace return to her. Running an absent hand along her horse's mane, it occurred to her she had yet to name the mare. She was a fine horse, dappled grey in colour. A memory of a time long past, of a book Cale had gifted her. Adventure, worship and war: The Memoirs of Luna Luisa. Luisa. She thought, whispering the name aloud. Luisa's ears pricked back in response and a small smile crept upon Aesa's lips. Her mind wandered away from the naming to the last few nights. Sometimes working with Ezhra, sometimes trying alone, Aesa had strived to bring forth ice yet each night she failed. She could feel the frustration threatening to consume her, but Aesa was desperate to keep the anger at bay. Since Lenia's Dreaming the rage which had been a constant had dimmed slightly and with it came a clarity, a focus she needed to maintain. There would come a time for fury, but this was not that day. Forcing her thoughts away from the shame of her failed lessons, her eyes were pulled toward Ezhra. She moved with such grace it seemed as though she were one with the horse, their movements fluid. It occurred to Aesa that the woman they were travelling with was a magical being, not long ago she would never have even believed elves existed. And now she rode behind one, a woman whose face spoke of a girl barely reaching womanhood, but whose eyes hinted at knowledge and power that Aesa could not truly fathom. Though her heart felt frozen, Aesa could not help a tiny spark of curiosity from flaring within her.

"May I ask you a question Ezhra? I do not want to offend but I am curious about your kind."

"Of course, ask what you will Aesa, you should bloody know me enough by now to know I won't take anything you say to heart!"

"You told us that your race is different to humans, whilst I can see the differences it does not seem as great as you have implied." Ezhra smiled back at her kindly.

"Is there a question in there?" Aesa returned the smile shyly.

"What are the differences? Please don't take offence, but you seem so... human." The lady beckoned Aesa forward so they could ride side by side; it took her a moment or two to reply.

"Elves are fast, even the fastest human would struggle to keep up. We also have immense stamina and can keep a good pace for days."

"How fast? Could you outrun a horse?" Ezhra laughed a faraway look in her eyes.

"Yes, many could. But we are also strong, the Mages we fight against are weaker than most elves yet stronger than humans."

"How are you not winning? If they are weaker?"

"We know nothing of the Svetian's but we do know there are many; elves live for thousands of years but we struggle to conceive, it has always been the way. There was once a time when there were thousands of us, we lived in peace and harmony away from the world and its troubles. But the last human king of Elindor brought death and destruction to our kind and our numbers have never healed. It was after the great war that elves took the throne. Our race was nearly obliterated in the war and we did what we always vowed never to do. We turned our abilities, our superior strength speed and power, on the humans. After such atrocities, our King's father vowed that elves and humans would never be enemies again. Times are very different now, but before the mad King Kenweald desecrated our forests we were a peaceful race, never having to kill, even the thought of it would have brought outrage amongst our people." Ezhra's voice choked up with unshed tears. "But you ask of now, of this war. The truth is that it does not seem to matter how many we can kill, they just keep bringing more. Every soldier of theirs is a Mage, they all hold magic. Their army is infinite and we are losing." Aesa felt her heart constrict at the admission, she had come to respect Ezhra and it was evident how passionate she felt for her country. Thinking back to the bustling city brought a feeling of dread, how could they let all of those people die?

"Damn!" She exclaimed, startling the elf. "If only there were more elves, you could run the Svetian's to the ground!"

"If only; in a cruelly ironic way it could very well be the actions of the mad King which lead to our destruction after all. The King has been forced to conscript able men and women into the army, one man or woman from every family must join, though in truth many more have. What you saw of Syriak is but a shadow of its former glory."

"Ezhra." Ema's quiet voice called from behind them, both women turned to the cart. "You don't seem to walk that fast, you're on a horse!" The girl cried out and all three women let out a small chuckle.

"One of the reasons Kenweald was able to rally his people against the elves was that he claimed our superior strength and speed meant we could at any moment eliminate the humans should we so choose. When King Leontis first sat on the throne, his first act was that all elven folk should keep their full capabilities hidden, the humans know we are more than what we seem, in our own homes we are free to do as we wish and word gets out, but the deception has served to keep relationships between our folk and theirs peaceful. With this war our true selves are coming to the fore but when necessary we act more human." At Ezhra's words Aesa could not help but feel a sense of, pity for the elf. The Lady was so confident, seemed so powerful, and yet she could not truly show herself for fear of prejudice.

"You and your kind, you help keep the war in the favour of Elindor?"

"To an extent yes, without our Weavers and strength it is likely the fight would be half way to Imindra by now." Ezhra admitted with a nod.

"And why do you fight?" Ezhra looked at her as though she was mad.

"I fight to protect those who cannot protect themselves, for those who have laid down their lives already and for the innocent blood which has been spilled. If I have to slaughter a hundred to save a thousand I will, and I will do everything in my bloody power to do so!"

"Then how can they judge you? We have known you for little time, but I would trust my life to you, just as the people of Elindor do. They expect you to lay down your lives for them, but they do not want to see how you do so? How can they welcome an elven king's rule and yet reject the king's full self? It is a truce of contradictions." Aesa's mind finally caught up with her mouth as she looked upon Ezhra's face. A wave of regret washed over her at her rash speech. Ezhra stared ahead, a misty look in her green eyes. Only a moment before Aesa had had too many words, now there were none. Instead, feeling like a coward, she pulled her mare back slightly and let Ezhra continue leading them, but not before she saw the two tears rolling along the thin white scar which marred Ezhra's beautiful face.

The rest of the day passed in an awkward silence, pierced only by Ema's questions about their surroundings, the forest, she had explained, reminded her of home. Aunt Vita answered her questions quietly, sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere. They travelled on through lunch, only stopping to water the horses. Aesa silently passed out bread and chicken Anria had given her, sad to see it was the last of the delicious food. She desperately wanted to say something to Ezhra, apologise for her heartless tirade but there was a glint in the Lady's eyes which warned Aesa away. There was only one word which could be used to describe that look. Ezhra was seething. The effect was nothing short of frightening. A grown and experienced woman in a girl's body with a warm smile and an easy manner, Aesa had only ever received kindness and understanding from Ezhra, but those green eyes were ice now. As the sun began to set Ezhra led them off the road a little and they set up camp. Ema sat wrapped in her blanket and watched each of the women in turn. Her eyes questioned them but she seemed to realise she should say nothing and so she ate her dinner silently before laying down next to Aesa and falling asleep. Aesa reached out and placed a hand on Ema's back, seeking the comfort she had come to recognise only the child could give.

"Does anyone mind if I take first watch?" Ezhra asked suddenly, the sudden sound of her voice startling Aesa and Vita after a long day of nothing. In her voice was a sense of defeat, she sounded lifeless. Aesa knew deep down it was the tone she herself had spoken with since Renfall's demise. Shuddering, she shook her head and told Aunt Vita she would take second watch, before laying down next to Ema and pulling her blanket over both of them.

Vita felt Aesa's soft hands gently shake her awake, dawn was still a couple of hours away and Vita had to wipe sleep from her groggy eyes.

"I can take your watch if you like?" Her niece offered, but she shook her head and smiled thankfully.

"It's ok, help me up and then get some sleep." Once she was seated comfortably looking out into the still night Vita let her mind relax and simply listened to the natural sounds of the forest. She looked down at her withered legs with a scowl. For nearly forty summers she had lived with the mantra to never dwell on things that could not be changed, look to the positive and live your life the best way one could. But that had been before her whole world had been tossed upside down, until she had felt her reason for living being ripped from her fingertips piece by piece. Now she stared down at her useless legs bitterly, wondering how she could ever be truly useful to an army. Having worked so hard to make the sturdy canes her new legs after the accident, she was able to walk. But when standing within the ranks, she would be unable to run screaming into the enemy lines. She could stand on the side lines and try and reach out to the enemy with a deathly hand but how effective would that be? When she watched Aesa's progress with controlling her own Abilities, or when she looked upon Ezhra and could sense the power emanating from the elf, Vita could not help but feel completely out of her depth, she was an aging Healer far from home, dabbling in dangers too terrifying for her to truly fathom. Frustrated tears welled in her eyes, making her vision of the dark trees blur, but Vita was not one to show weakness, nor was she one to cry over things she had no control over. Scrubbing her eyes angrily, Vita vowed that she would work with Aesa every day to strengthen her own powers, if she had to be left on the side line as the army swept across the battlefields, then she would bloody well ensure she could minister death from where she stood. If only they could stop time, if only for a day, they had been spiralling toward this course for months, and yet neither she nor Aesa had ever truly come up with a plan of how they would act or go about their quest for vengeance. But time stopped for no man, even now she could feel they were drawing closer to her sister. How would Sana react? Surely she could feel Vita's approach and yet she had not made any effort to move toward her sister. The differences she knew she would find in her sister were terrifying to consider, but despite her fears, Vita would not stop. The woman they travelled to see was not a stranger to them, she had been, and remained to this day, Vita's best friend; and she would do all in her power to help guide Sana back. Perhaps learning she was a Grandmother would help melt her heart. Had been a Grandmother. Vita corrected herself. Would she help them avenge the deaths of her family, a family she had never known existed? Just thinking about her little angel's death brought a burning feeling at the back of her throat. And her poor, darling girl, her Aesa. How could she ever heal from that? Remembering the bright and enthusiastic girl she glanced over at the woman with her now, still her niece yes but that innocent child was buried beneath fire and ice so deep Vita knew the girl would never be seen again. Aesa had not been the same since that day back home, who could have been? Eyes once full of life, were now hollow, her voice devoid of emotion. Vita was glad to see spikes of personality shine through and she knew they had Ezhra to thank for that, but all too soon Aesa would blink and her blue eyes would grow cold once more. She prayed to the Watchers that Aesa would find her way. She had seemed animated the morning before, talking with Ezhra her face full of expression, full of life. But the rest of the day had passed in an awkward silence. She thought too of the family they had met at Farland's manor. Lenia, the Dreamer, nervously awaiting news of her father. This war could rob that young girl of her father, orphaning her. War was hopeless. If there was a god of war he was a cruel figure who cared not which side prevailed just so long as plenty of souls were banished from their bodies in the process of deciding who would win. Vita sat brooding, her mood dark and unhappy, until the sun touched the treetops and the camp behind her began to stir.

Ezhra opened her eyes as a warm ray of sunshine flashed across her face. Her head ached, no doubt because she had been thinking long into the night when she should have been sleeping. But she opened her eyes with a new sense of clarity. Aesa had been right, the life she had been living was full of contradictions and hypocrisies and no one had ever really noticed, if they had, their revelation had been kept quiet, hidden away as her races full capabilities had been for a millennia. The secrecy and half-truths had embedded themselves in the traditions of her people. But just because something was traditional did not make it right. Her father had raised her to always believe a man with a knife was not a threat simply because he held a blade, it was his decisions which determined whether he should be feared or respected. Does he murder and thief? Or does he cut the bindings from a captive or whittle pretty carvings to bring a smile to a child's lips. Society had never requested human neighbours prove they could be trusted with potential weapons, they had always been given the benefit of the doubt, even Weavers were, on the whole, trusted. Elves, however, had never received such fair judging. They had to keep their Abilities locked away. Abilities did not seem like the right word to describe what she could do, after all it was natural to her that she be able to outrun many animals, that she be stronger than the bears living in the mountains near her home. They were not Abilities granted to her by her goddess, they were just her. A man who walks down a road is not given the ability to do so; he is born with it, with two legs. She was born with two legs so she could walk, how fast she can do so should not matter. Aesa had been so right. They ate a quick breakfast of porridge with some cinnamon crumbled in, a treat from Farland. When they were packing up Ezhra tapped Aesa lightly on the arm to get her attention.

"I wanted to apologise for my behaviour yesterday, I was rude and I am sorry." Aesa's eyes widened in shock and bereavement.

"Oh please don't apologise, it was my fault with all my questions I didn't mean to offend or upset you."

"You did neither, I was simply shocked. I had a lot to think on. The things you said were true, every last word. I, and my kind, have allowed the mistakes of one man dictate the way we have lived our lives. I have lived a hundred years, it is difficult for me to accept your words but I cannot deny that you are right. I was simply thinking it over. I have always strived to be myself, part of me has wanted to show the world the real Ezhra but I always felt to do so was both cruel and proud. I should not want to boast of what I could do when others could not, I should not be proud of what I could do when others would be jealous. Just because one person can sing beautifully does not mean they should never use their voice in case one who sings like a cat being strangled would be jealous. People should learn to accept everything about a person." Aesa was nodding smiling.

"Precisely, that is exactly what I thought. If you would like you could travel on foot, we would be neither afraid nor jealous. In truth it would be fascinating. You should not have to pretend you are anything but what you are and I would hate to think you were holding back because of us." Aesa's words lifted her heart, being accepted fully had only ever been a dream.

"Your words are a gift to me." She said earnestly. Once they had the horses saddled and were ready to depart Ezhra tied Luna's reigns to Vita's cart smiling. "If it's ok I would like to run ahead a while." She felt a little nervous, what if they looked at her in a different light? But Aesa had granted her a wish and she felt cowardly not to accept. Vita grinned widely and nodded excitedly, Ema wanted to know if she could run too, Aesa sat up on her horse smiling slightly. Pushing back off her heel Ezhra set off and truly let herself go. A giggle erupted from her throat and she heard the enthusiastic laughs of her companions but she was soon out of their line of sight. Sometimes running, other times jumping from branch to branch Ezhra meandered through the forest having the time of her life.

Elion wrapped his slender fingers around the hilt of his sheathed sword. He stood with men he had known for only a handful of days, yet already he was proud to be one of them. Each slow breath calmed his heartbeat, he felt completely at peace, like he were back home stood with his family at the top of their favourite mountain. Hooves pawed at the earth, shallow breaths were pulled in and out, armour clinked and men coughed. The sounds of the stillness before the battle began. His father stepped out, his strides long and strong. Despite the war council deeming it too dangerous, both Haroun and the King refused to step back from the fight. Haroun's dark hair now fell to his shoulders, and Elion could not help but wonder what his Mother would make of it.

"Men and women of Elindor, stand ready!" Haroun's deep baritone voice rang out and every man and woman brought their feet together in a stamp and raised their fists to their hearts. "We have had many victories and we have faced many defeats. But to dwell upon the deeds of yesterday will not help us win this war. All we need remember is that here we stand! Our legs are strong, our arms do not waver. We stand and we fight and we will prevail!" His simple words invoked cries from every person present. Elion felt his own voice tear from his throat to join those around him. Determination, anger, passion, all swelled through him at Haroun's words. His fingers once again reached for his sword, the sound of the steel being released lost amidst the noise now rousing from the Elindorian army. As they stood as one, waiting for the call to charge, Elion had a moment of serene clarity. He could feel the three sweat beads building at his hairline, he could see the features of the Svetian men who roared in their want for the ensuing fight. His fingers trembled upon the hilt, not with fear but with anticipation of what was to come. 'Please Aodolys, protect your people.' He thought, his eyes peering up at the Sun Goddess. As he looked up at his deity, Elion could have sworn he felt the sun brighten, as though swelling in pride for her people. "CHARGE!" Haroun shouted, and Elion's feet bounded forward, keeping in time with the men around him he lifted his sword arm and released another cry. Within minutes his blade clattered against the curved blade of a Svetian Mage, before he could blink, Elion slashed his sword across the throat of the man before him, feeling the hot blood as it splashed across his eyes momentarily obscuring his view. Wiping his face, he looked down at his fingertips, now dyed scarlet red with the life blood of his enemy. How easily that could have been his blood, how easy it had been to kill. No hesitation, no honour. Just sudden or agonising death. Elion stood in the centre of the blood bath, a mere boy, barely a man, fighting for his life. He had not entered this fight blind, he had known what he faced. But now Elion stood in the thick of it, felt his heart thudding faster and faster, his hand shook. Gone were visions of grandeur and heroics. Fear was his companion now. But fear had never been his enemy, it was something to be embraced, welcomed. Fear could be harnessed and directed into anger. And he was damn angry.

Evindäl placed a comforting palm against Lightning's strong neck.

"Peace friend." He whispered quietly. But even he could feel his whole body quiver in anticipation as he looked upon the birthplace of his people. He had run alongside Lightning for most of the journey, as he headed North to the Forest of Myrení. Although the majority of Elindor followed the religion of Aodolys and Fealos, the elven race had long been believed to be favourites of the Sun Goddess. Until the Mad King had forced them from their home, the elves had lived here where the Sun Goddess herself had once resided on earth. It was sacred ground, and to look upon it now was to feel the pain borne by all of the elven race tenfold. Evindäl knelt on the ground and buried both hands in the soil, he could feel the life force of the forest pulsing within, the pain the forest still felt at the loss of its people and the death of much of the beautiful trees. His tears ran freely, dripping from his face and feeding the earth beneath him. He was unsure how long he stayed in that position, minutes or hours he could not know for sure. But eventually, Evindäl pulled himself out of his mourning, pushed himself back up off the ground and stepped foot beneath the huge towering trees of his home. A sense of peace settled over him, and Evindäl knew that he was being welcomed home.

Chapter 13

Ezhra jogged alongside the brisk horses, her limbs felt loose and light, her head clear. She could not help but feel a new sense of freedom and she was sure that her ancestors would be smiling down at her from their place beside Aodolys. Her companions, no her friends had welcomed her true self, they had not judged nor had they looked upon her with jealousy in their eyes. Instead, as she showed more and more of her abilities, Ezhra could feel their acceptance grow, their curiosity spiked. They may not fully understand, maybe they never could, but what they had given her was the kindest gift she could ever receive. But as she moved she could not help but think of Evindäl, of how they had travelled together, hand in hand, steps in time, up the steep slopes of the mountains. She would always try and reach the top one step ahead of him and he would always laugh fondly at her competitive nature. Ezhra wondered where her love was, whether he still sat within the thick walls of the School. Deep beneath the ground in their lowest catacombs, where she knew his favourite room in the library lay, scouring Elindor history for a hint, any hint, to end their war. But Evindäl was far from her, and deep down she knew that to allow him to enter her thoughts was dangerous. He was no longer hers, maybe in her heart, but it seemed her heart mattered little to others. The betrayal of her King was a harsh one, the wound still burned deep, never to truly heal. But her new friends knew nothing of her love, her broken heart and crushed dreams. That too, gave her a sense of freedom.

"Look!" Ema cried out from the cart, a smile in her sweet voice. Up ahead, the trees thinned out, light seeped through the exit of the forest. Rather than a positive response, it appeared Vita and Aesa felt much the same as her, morose and sad to be leaving the shade of the trees. Out of the forest, Ezhra would be expected to act with proper decorum; get back astride her horse and continue on as though the only difference between her and her human companions was her ears and eyes. But Ezhra would not do it. Her eyes had been opened and she was not about the seal them shut again.

All four of the travellers shielded their eyes as they stepped out of the thick trees and into the full glory of the afternoon sun. Luscious green land rolled out from them in waves, hills rose and fell like the tide of the sea, the land unpastured rich and full of a variety of colourful flowers. The nearest town, Shadow Hill, was a three days ride, Ezhra had passed through this way only once, but since her earliest memory she could recall studying maps of Elindor and could travel the lands with no problems. The land here remained untouched, peaceful, but only because of the ruins which lay on the other side of the nearest hill. It was the largest hill within eye shot, and as they crested the rise Aesa gasped at the sight. Sprawled beneath them lay crumbling and mossy stone walls, the remnants of buildings long since buried beneath the earth. The site was in equal measures beautiful and eerie, like a graveyard for the homes which had once stood here. Aesa slid off her horses back and half stumbled down the hill, her eyes glazed as she took in the surroundings.

"What happened here?" She whispered, as though her voice would disturb the dead, coming to a wall which barely reached her knees she reached out and trailed her fingers along the worn rock. Ezhra had read, and agreed with the scholar, that the walls stood at this height as they were in fact the tops of the dwellings which had once towered tall. The walls ended in places and began elsewhere, the tops of archways and what could have been the spire of a tower rose higher in other places.

"No one really knows." She eventually admitted with a sigh. "The ruins were here thousands of years ago, no one knows who lived here nor what happened. Even the elves have no recollection of the history. I always found the story saddening. To think people lived, worked and loved here, but we will never know what became of them. Never know their story. To be vanquished from the world in such a way that even your name is forgotten is a terrible fate." As she spoke, Aesa's eyes swam slightly with unshed tears, perhaps wondering if this was to be the fate of Renfall. Before Ezhra could speak further her ears heard a distant sound, footsteps. Looking to the South she soon saw sign of life. "People are coming." She told the others quickly, still glaring into the distance trying to gage more information.

"How can you tell?" Aesa asked squinting in the direction Ezhra was looking.

"Another perk to being an elf, I can hear their advance and now I can see them. About fifteen people I would say, half are on foot and about half are riding." Aesa and Vita both stared at her unbelieving but as the two groups ventured closer, they too could see signs of life.

"Are they dangerous?" Vita asked warily.

"No, they are boys, barely men. We will approach." Ezhra replied.

They had left the ruins far behind them, and as they rounded a low hill the boys came back into sight. All of the boys startled slightly at seeing the women appear, having not, it appeared, seen nor heard any approach. One led them, he took a shaking hand to his sword and pulled the blade.

"You would pull your bloody blade on three women and a child?" Ezhra admonished, unable to keep the bite from her tone. The boy was barely sixteen, the hair on his cheeks more fluff than stubble. But at her words he did not flinch nor sheath his weapon.

"We've seen women we known all our lives take kitchen knives to the throats of their own husbands stranger. We will do well to remain wary." He spoke, his voice broken and too deep for the youthful face before her. She stepped closer to them, pulling her shoulders back and pulling her braid over her shoulder. At seeing her fully, a number of the youths gasped in surprise. She looked at each one in turn before settling her intimidating stare upon the leader.

"Do you still presume to hold a weapon to me child?" Her voice rose in anger and yet still his blade was undeterred. Instead, his eyes darted to the side, looking to his companions for support or advice, she did not know which. She did not need to know. For in that one moment of pause, the boy could not know how close he had come to death. She saw his chest rise and fall in one breath, and before he could begin to take another one, she leapt forward. Her body fluidly slid beneath his weapon, one hand disarming him easily, whilst the other pulled a knife she had hidden up her sleeve and drawing it to his throat. Baring her teeth she snarled and shoved him to the floor. He was so startled he could not even bring himself to anger. Nobody spoke, nobody moved. She could hear the breaths come in short gasps from those before her; she could see the sweat building upon the boy's brow, the emotions flicker across his brown eyes as he tried to come to terms with what had just occurred. And finally, he bowed his head.

"Am sorry mi' Lady. I meant no harm." All anger fled, opening her eyes she saw the pain and hurt in the boys around her.

"None taken boy. Now come, the sun sets. Join us for supper, I would like to hear your tale."

Chapter 14

Setting up camp was a solitary affair, even Ema was quiet. Finally, when they were all settled around a large camp fire and a pot of rabbit stew was warming through, Ezhra cleared her throat.

"What brings a group of boys to travel across Elindor during times of war?" She quizzed them, her voice stern but her eyes warm.

"We ride to war!" The leader with the fluffy cheeks spoke, his name was Mat.

"War? You are bloody children!" She exclaimed, unable to contain her shock. There couldn't have been one boy older than eighteen summers. But at her words, she saw faces darken and shoulders pull back with pride.

"Aye. Three nights ago we was children Lady. But with all due respect, we ain't no boys no more." Ezhra could hear the emotion behind his words, the determination in his eyes. Fearing for what she was about to hear, Ezhra asked them to speak of what had happened. A dark shadow descended across Mat's eyes and more than one of those before her wiped away a tear.

"We all hail from Winninberg; tis not a large town, sort of place everybody knows everybody else. The worst thing anyone ever done there was old Mick tried to slice up his brother when he had too much ale a few years back. Until three nights ago." The only sounds in the silence was the low crackle of the fire, even the sounds of the night dimmed in reverence to the tale. The night air felt close, the moon too dark and the clouds too heavy. A shudder ran through Ezhra's body. "I was walking back home after seeing Anni, the sky was just darkening and I was in a good mood. Until I saw the flames up ahead, heard the chants and shouts. I didn't understand, didn't know what was going on. They were chanting for the blood of Weavers, when I got closer I could hear it. They was spewing all sorts of horse shit about Weaver's stealing their Abilities. Saying no one should have that sort of power. My little sister, she's a Weaver, just turned fifteen and ready to go to the School for proper training. Until those in that crowd got her. I tried to reach her, by time I got there, they had chopped her to pieces and were tossing her onto a pyre. She never hurt no one. Only ever used her gifts for good. Talked about learning at the School and coming back to Winninberg to be a Healer. She ain't never gonna heal no one now." A lurching sick feeling hit Ezhra's stomach at his words and tears prickled her eyes. Before she could ask anymore, another voice carried into the night air, his tone sorrowful and broken.

"It was that stranger that done it. Said he came in peace just to talk, but started spewing on about Weavers and the likes being unnatural creations. Nobody ever had no problems with Weavers before. Not until he came! Because of him Mat's little Janey's dead, and my Ma too. My Pops lost his arm trying to protect her against men and women we known all our lives!" There was a cry of solidarity from all those gathered. They all had similar stories.

"You call us boys." Mat said quietly, staring into the campfire. "But we all know death. All felt death come down on our loved ones, all dealt death to those who would do us and ours harm. The stranger, he was one of them and we will help rid Elindor of evil." Though his voice was low and soft, Ezhra felt the truth in the words as real and strong as if she were using her Empathy Ability.

"I cannot change the past, nor guarantee the future. But I am truly sorry for your losses. What has happened to your town now?" She asked, opening her Ability to them, feeling their emotions as though her own.

"A lot of dead, but we got all those who turned on us. They are waiting to be hanged, justice will be served. Winninberg will rebuild. But we want to help protect it from further ruin." Mat said, his eyes glowing with determination, unbeknown to him, he told her a lot more than just his words.

"Men." She said, standing to her feet. "For that is what you all are. I apologise for my earlier misgivings about your journey. You are all indeed brave and courageous. But I cannot allow you to continue without warning you of the truisms of war." These men deserved the chance to defend their homes, but so many boys arrived at war brandishing a sword only to be left dying in the dirt wondering where their life had gone. "You have fought, you have killed and you have watched your loved ones die. But a battle is a wholly different fight. Day after day, fighting, killing, death. Fear is a constant companion. The battlefield a heap of mud, bodies, blood. Half the fight is staying afoot amidst the chaos. Knowing one wrong move could mean the end of your life, is a constant thought." As she spoke, Ezhra kept open her Empathy gift, reaching out tendrils of her gift, inviting in the mixed emotions all around her, touching each man's mind, reading his inner feelings. Nothing was hidden from her. "I have tested you, each and every one of you. For the invasion of privacy I once again apologise, but it was a necessity." They all looked to each other nervously. "All of you have passed. I can feel that you are angry and hurt. That you want vengeance for the crimes committed against your families. There is bravery in that. But you are also scared, and that gentlemen tells me that you are not only courageous but also intelligent. To fear war is not a sin, it is reality. It does not make one a coward. To fear war and yet still march on is bravery of a special variety and I applaud you all." They all looked to her, wonder in their eyes. "I send you on with my blessing. I shall write a letter for you with my personal recommendations which you will place directly with the King or my Father. I will pray for your safety and I will think, always, of your bravery." It was a rare thing for Ezhra to doubt herself, but as she looked into the eyes of these men she felt the uncertainty through to her core. Young and inexperienced, was she sending them to their death? Yet how could she deny them the opportunity to protect their families? How could she judge what was right and wrong? Her mind quickly wandered from the campfire whilst everyone talked amongst themselves. Who was this character the boy spoke of who caused men and women, neighbours and friends to turn on one another? Fear gripped at her to know the Svetian scum had seeped this far inland. This was her land and it was her bloody job to protect it. No, this was not good. Something would have to be done about him.

Chapter 15

Katsa rushed through the sprawling camp with her bucket full of water, careful not to spill a drop whilst also maintaining her pace. A huge smile plastered on her face, considered beautiful by many, was drawing unwanted attention from the Mages around her; but it was impossible to hide her joy. Today was a happy day, she felt so elated. Finally, after an age of stalemate, their troops had pushed the Elindorians further back. Katsa had always been confident her Masters would win this war, but that did not mean she wanted it to last for an age. One man stood as though to stop her, a lecherous grin etched on his face startling her. Surely he knew who she was? She was Raken's Guardian. None could touch her but him. To even look was to invite his wrath. The six gold rings along her ear marked her as a personal slave of a Triad.

"My master has bid me bring this water as quick as possible sir, please let me pass or he will be angry at the both of us." She said loudly without slowing her pace, indignation lending strength to her voice. His lewd eyes finally took in the gold hoops and he stumbled out of the way. Her Master did have a temper, she had had reason to see it on occasion, but he was also fair. His punishments were administered only when necessary. Katsa lived for her Master, to disappoint him was a worse penalty than any beating. On the occasions she had brought him the need to hurt her, he would stare at her with sad eyes and whisper he was only doing what was necessary. In response, Katsa would smile sadly and tell him she knew, she understood. And she was sorry for causing him pain. Today was such a special day, the thought of upsetting him brought tears to her eyes. She wished only to please him. Katsa made it to her Master's tents quickly, this was the last bucket of water she needed, now she would heat it up and bathe him. Raken was a wonderful man, as only a Mage could be. When her and her brother Kaine had first been brought to the Palace of the Land they had both been awed by all they saw, they loved the Mage's and lived to serve them. They were rewarded for their loyalty by being taken into Raken's service. As one third of the Triad there was no greater honour. He had brought a selection of slaves to war with him, she had wept in joy when he rested his hand on her bowed head and requested she too join him. And to be honoured to have Master also bring Kaine was an act so kind she could never hope to repay him. Raken waited in the area of the tent which was his bedroom, it was a grand area unlike any of the other tents in camp with a huge, plush bed and even rich carpets on the floor. Once she had filled his bath with warm water she addressed him, keeping her eyes to the floor. It was not the place of a Guardian to look into their Master's eyes until spoken to.

"Your bath is ready Master Raken, would it please you if I bathed you now whilst it is still warm?" He put one of his long cool fingers under her chin and brought her face to look at his. Butterflies flew in her stomach as he gazed down at her. He was a handsome man, nearly fifteen years her senior with thick eyebrows and brooding dark eyes. She smoothed down her black hair without thinking, she always tried to look good so as to please her Master.

"Thank you Katsa that would be acceptable." When she was washing his back, making sure to rub any knots out of his shoulders he spoke softly to her. "It is a joyous day is it not my dear?"

"Oh yes, I was just thinking so myself. I am so glad we are making progress Master." Her heart soared to hear him speak of his happiness. He smiled turning his head to her a little.

"I would like to celebrate with you Katsa, would you like that?"

"You know I love nothing more than pleasing you Master Raken. Please let me show you how happy I am." Her heart thundered in her chest as he turned those handsome eyes on her.

"Very well, go and wait on the bed." He dried himself quickly before coming and standing over her. When he kissed her it was pure rapture. The same as three years before when he had first taken her to his bed. She was more experienced now, confident in her ability to make him happy and she pulled him down onto the bed with her.

Chapter 16

Aesa swung herself off her mares back as they neared the town of Shadow Hill. It had been two days since they had bid farewell to the young men from Winninberg, and since that day Ezhra had travelled with even more determination than she had held previously. Aesa would not have thought such a feat possible if she had not witnessed the change herself. When they had begun travelling that first morning, Ezhra had been quiet, reserved. Finally, when the sun hung high above them, she seemed to have made her mind up.

"We are going to take a slight detour." She had explained to them that she believed the stranger from Winninberg would travel to their larger neighbour, Shadow Hill. The slight change in direction was not a concern to Aesa, she too had been worrying about the stranger with the power to turn men's hearts black. But with the worry had also come a nervous anticipation for the eventual meeting with the Svetian. They travelled in a quiet, determined manner. Aesa had lain awake the evening before, her thoughts a jumble of self-doubt wondering whether she was ready for the confrontation. Was she strong enough? For so long her thoughts had been dark, images of vengeance, exacting pain on others; but in truth, as she had lain on the cold ground of a country she had never known existed, she wondered whether she would be able to do it. Could she take a person's life? As she pondered and questioned, a feeling deep within her responded forcefully. She would do it, she could do it. She would bring punishment to the guilty, hope to the innocent. She would prove herself in the eyes of the elf who had befriended them wholeheartedly, who had accepted them for who they were and opened herself to them like no other. The elf who had made them all feel alive again. As her booted feet crunched on the gravel when she hit the floor, she was in the frame of mind to do just what she had vowed to. Together, with her friends, she would find the man who spun words of deceit and she would end him. The town must have gained its name due to its location at the very base of a large rise. The hill cast a dark shadow across half of the town. Aesa was fairly certain that as the day wore on and the sun made its ascent and descent, the shadow would shift, bathing some areas in light and others in shade. As they walked the cobbled streets of the busy town, they moved in shade. If it weren't for the typical noise of a busy town, Aesa would have found the effect intimidating. Ezhra had pulled her long braid so that it hung down her back, tucked into her coat, her hood was up so as to hide her features as much as possible. It would not do to alert this stranger to their arrival. The plan was to find an inn to lodge in for the evening, listening to common room gossip for any hint of a stranger talking of Weavers. Though the town was small in size compared to the port city of Syriak, Aesa could not help but feel overwhelmed by the populace. Even as they walked their horses along the cobbled streets, children rushed past their feet, men and women bustled by, some carrying wares upon their backs, others atop fine horses. As they ploughed their way through the mayhem, Aesa found herself, not for the first time, wishing for the support of her husband. She whispered his name softly, a note of longing in her tone.

"Aesa." His voice whispered so clearly it was as though he stood beside her. The world froze around her, her heart clenched and sobs racked her body, tears quickly fell from her eyes.

"Aesa." Another voice spoke, this one real, living. Aunt Vita placed a hand on her forearm. "What is it?" She asked, her voice gentle and serving to bring Aesa back to the living, though the shadow of the dead still shrouded her, never truly leaving.

"Nothing Aunt Vita. I just miss them." She admitted, deciding that whilst her Aunt had been nothing but supportive throughout her life, she couldn't imagine admitting she had heard Cale's voice from the Blessed Isles would be met with nods of understanding.

"I can understand that girl. Come on, it's bloody cold out here and what you need is a hot drink and some food. Looks like the kind of place I may be able to get my hands on some spiced mead!" Though her words were jovial, Aesa could see the pain in her Aunt's eyes. She was not the only one who felt the pull of the dead.

Vita looked at her niece's face, the raw hurt so evident that her words died in her throat. What could she ever say? There was nothing, no way of soothing the kind of heartache they had all been through. Another feeling mixed in with her own sadness, one of hope, to see another part of Aesa show through. Of course, she felt guilty for her admission, but she could not help but be grateful to see an emotion aside from anger. The women spoke little as they made their way through the busy town. When Ezhra had said they would pass through Shadow Hill, Vita had anticipated somewhere perhaps marginally larger than Renfall. Shadow Hill was certainly not what she had envisaged. Everywhere she looked she saw people, most wore smiles, tipped their heads at passers-by they recognised. Children ran amok, with no troubles to tie them down, it was a warming view. It took a while, but finally Ezhra stopped outside a building which was tall and thin like those surrounding it. It stood four stories tall, but whilst the sign for the Cavern Inn stood above eye height, the door appeared to be at the bottom of a set of steps leading down to the basement. How peculiar. She thought, as she looked down the dark stairwell a scowl formed upon her brow. She bloody hated stairs.

"Mat's Uncle owns this inn, if we are to find anywhere to lend us an ear this is the place. If you would like I can help you down the stairs Vita?" Ezhra offered.

"Not bloody likely!" She replied, already pulling herself to her nemesis.

"At least let me go first Aunt Vita." Aesa demanded, already rushing forward. Sana had always told Vita she was as stubborn as a mule, Vita disagreed. She was not stubborn, she was simply right! The stairs were narrow but well-kept and she did not miss a step. The Inn was unlike anything she had seen before, the walls of the common room were grey rock decorated with painted runes and carvings. The colours were warm oranges, deep browns and greys, she didn't know why but this dark common room beneath the ground brought an unexpected wave of homesickness to the Healer. The welcoming smell of log fires and spiced mead brought a melancholy wave. Candles and old books filled the nooks and crannies giving the impression of an odd library with beer stained tables filling the room. Vita could instantly see why Ezhra had wanted to come here. The room was full, but the travellers stood out, sat apart from the locals, with tell-tale signs of road dust upon their hair and cloaks.

"Welcome to the Cavern, lodging? Food?" A tall man with black hair cut so short scalp was visible, asked wiping his large hands upon his apron, dark eyes darting about the room.

"Master Liam?" Ezhra asked stepping forward, her hood pulled high over her head, though her fitted coat did little to hide her shape.

"Aye. Who might you be?"

"I would prefer that remain a secret. A private word?" She nodded in the direction of the door ahead, which seemingly led away from the common room. He deliberated, brows pulled into a frown before nodding.

"Follow me." The four of them did as they were told, Ema clutching Aesa's hands tightly. The door leading away from the common room was so low that both Liam and Ezhra had to stoop slightly. The inn keeper led them along a stone corridor with more books and strange markings upon the walls, the lack of decoration was somewhat of a surprise to Vita, who had only ever seen two such places, the inn back in Renfall had been cosy and warm, with paintings adorning the walls, more than one painted by Aesa. The inn in Syriak had been as cluttered as a market stall at first light. The private room which he led them into was so small, all four adults nearly brushed shoulders. With a scowl Vita glared up at Ezhra and the inn keep, they would brush shoulders if they were of a height, Vita's face was practically in his chest and Aesa was no better off. Without further thought, Ezhra pulled her hood down and looked over at the inn keep.

"My name is Lady Ezhra'lí and these are my travelling companions. We hunt a foe of Elindor who we believe to be in Shadow Hill. We seek lodging for an unknown amount of time and your promise of discretion. In return I can pay handsomely." As they had travelled together, Vita had grown a fondness for the elf, a friendship like none she had felt before outside of her family. She had also become accustomed to the ladies manner and how quickly she could change from the free spirited young woman to a powerful member of the royal court. Liam folded his arms across his chest, looking as though he might just kick them out there and then.

"What foe?" Ezhra sighed, she had wanted to offer as little information as possible, but they had all known they would be the ones to break the news to him.

"You may want to sit down. I also bring word from your nephew, Mat." The ice cracked, his face melted into one of distress.

"Is he hurt?" He demanded, taking one step forward, but it was enough to bring him so close to Ezhra that their noses practically touched. Vita felt very small sat so close to such towering figures.

"Please sit." Vita said, her voice filled with the empathy she felt. He did so, though begrudgingly.

"Winninberg was attacked within the week. A small group entered the village as strangers, simple travellers. But they brought with them dark words of hate. One night half of the villagers were crazed, they went into a frenzy against those blessed with Ability. Murder was done that night."

"My family, Mat and ... "

"The boy is fine, but your niece and sister in law were killed. I am truly sorry Liam. I met your nephew and a group of the boys from Winninberg on the road, they were going to join the army. Each one had fought and killed to protect their family and they courageously wanted to stop the atrocity from happening again." There were tears in the burly man's eyes.

"My brother, he will be heart broken. I wanted to join, but we knew that one of us should stay to protect the family, he forced me to stay as my wife passed five years ago, I am all my daughter has. I begged Molly to come here, I have plenty of space and could put Mat to work. But she kept putting it off. They were due to arrive tomorrow." As he spoke, his voice broke and with it Vita knew a piece of his heart went too. "My little girl, Angie, she has been so excited about ... how am I to tell her they are dead? And the boy off to war." His head fell into his open hands, strong fingers gripped his head tightly as though trying to squeeze the knowledge out, in rage or sorrow Vita did not know, but she thought it was a bit of both. Nobody spoke, the silence fell upon them as thick and heavy as the heartache they all felt. "What do I do?" He whispered into the quiet. Tears prickled at the corner of Vita's eyes to see such a proud man brought to despair. What could she say? What could she do to ease his pain? Aesa knelt before him, her face hidden from view by the mane of dark curls. Vita did not know what to expect, her niece was growing more and more unpredictable. One of her small hands reached out, slowly, tentatively, resting lightly on his forearm, her pale skin lying in contrast to the dark hairs upon his.

"You fight back." She said, her voice quiet, no malice, only pain. Vita watched, helplessly, as Liam raised his head and looked Aesa in the eyes. They held each other's gaze a while longer, silently communicating. Finally he bobbed his head once.

"Anything you want, you will have it." His voice was hoarse from unshed tears but his gaze strong.

As day gave way to night, Aesa sat and waited. There was nothing else to do, Ema lay on the bed to her side, sleeping silently. If it were not for the two frown lines upon the child's head, and the small gasps that escaped her lips, Aesa could have persuaded herself that Ema slept peacefully. But they had travelled side by side for four moons and more. Aesa knew what Ema saw when she closed her eyes, she saw them, as Aesa saw them. No amount of Healing could stem the pain which grasped the child then. No amount of death and disease could prepare you for the destruction of life all around you. Everywhere she looked she saw pain, she saw them. Every child with dark hair could be Arina or Alek, every pair of green eyes could be those which had been the window to the soul of her love. With every passing day she felt her grip on reality loosening. Please. She pleaded with herself. Just hold on a little longer, vengeance first, then we can meet the bliss of nothingness. Slight movement down on the street caught her attention. Liam had given them the room at the very top of the building. The walls were sloped as they sat within the attic but there were two large beds, a bathtub and a fireplace. More importantly, they had a vantage point of being able to see the whole street from their window. Aesa had wanted to go out, Ezhra was scouting for information with Liam, but the elf had insisted she should go alone. Aesa had argued her point, how she could keep up, might even be useful. Until the Lady of the court had opened the tiny window in the roof above Aesa's head and pulled herself through. Lithely standing atop the rooftop shingles as though the slanted rooftop were as straight as the street below. "There are some times when you simply won't be able to keep up my friend. When we have time, I will help you so as you never need be left behind again. But now is not the time." Aesa had conceded. But waiting was unbearable.

"Will you stop glaring out of that window Aesa! Looking at it isn't going to make somebody bloody appear." Aunt Vita muttered. As if right on cue Ezhra's face appeared in the glass, so suddenly both women jumped, startled. Aesa hurriedly let the elf in, who swung and landed so lightly there was barely a noise.

"Did I startle you?" She asked innocently. Aesa didn't know why she was surprised. In the weeks since she had met Ezhra she had witnessed her doing incredible things. "Well you better take a deep breath. I have news."

Chapter 17

Though there were people everywhere, to Ezhra the street was as silent as a grave. She could imagine the sound of the small rocks and stones shifting beneath her weight, the low creak of her leather boots as her muscles stretched and loosened with each step. To be an elf was to hear all that went on around you. One learnt to ignore sounds, but they were always there at the back of your mind. As you swam through a serene lake, the cold water lapping against the distant shore would reach your ears as though it were right next to you, staying in an inn with your door closed and eyes closed for sleep, the sounds of the bakery opposite setting up their furnace in the morning would greet you with the waking sun. But to hear nothing, well that was new. The crowds were massing by the fountain which marked the town centre. Ezhra could see the low stone wall which acted as a barrier between the street and the canal which snaked through Shadow Hill, but she could not hear the slapping of oars in water nor the cries of people trying to sell their wares. Taking a quick look to her side, Ezhra checked Aesa and Vita were with her. They too were deaf to the sounds around them, for she had stuffed all of their ears with magic so as to ward off Zodak's poisonous words. Ema remained at the inn, locked in their room. But a slight glance up and she could see the red hair and big green eyes staring down, terror and wonder in equal measure. Looking back at her friends, identical expressions of fierce determination upon their beautiful faces. They were with her, they always would be, these strange brave women of Debdran. They were in this together, until the end. Liam had already left, was part of the crowd ahead, his ears stuffed with rags as were the ears of the allies he had amassed. Ezhra already exerted too much power protecting herself, Vita and Aesa. She could do no more without risking wearing herself out. Nodding once, she set out. Their coats were back with Ema, Ezhra wore her long blonde braid with pride, her elven ears like a crown. Aesa walked with a strength Ezhra had not fully witnessed before, and though Vita walked with her canes, they in no way diminished her power, her face full of thunderous rage. Ahead, a man had stepped onto the lip of the fountain. Ezhra had seen him from afar, had looked upon his face and imagined when she would finally face him. He was a handsome man, could be no older than twenty summers, in his prime with strength in his arms and a disarming smile which could charm many a woman. But Ezhra knew the evil that lay behind his brown eyes. By his side were five men whom never left his flank. His protection, his guards. Not Ezhra's problem. He was her target. Her companions would despatch the rest. As he opened his mouth to speak there was no need to contain her temper any longer.

"Hold your tongue murderer or lose it!" She cried out. Faces turned to her, she saw mouths move and chests pull in as gasps escaped people's lips. But his full lips pulled into a smile, his eyes focusing on her. A shiver almost made its way up her spine, but she held firm. "I, Lady Ezhra'lí of Elindor, hereby arrest you for treason against the crown and for the murder of the innocent people of Winninberg." He continued to grin, seemingly enjoying the display, eyes searching her hungrily, as though she were his prey and not the other way around. Though they had planned for it, it still shocked her to see many of the local town people turn their backs on him, turning their frenzied eyes to her, as though she were the enemy.

"Tut tut my Lady." His words were muffled, but with her advanced sight she was able to lip read well enough. "I have committed no crime. I bring honesty to these people where your King only offers lies. In Winninberg, I simply opened their eyes to the atrocities around them. They chose their own course of action." Something feral deep inside her itched to be released, to sink its teeth into this fiend. As she had studied his lips so as to understand what he said, Ezhra had glimpsed hints of gold.

"Your slippery words fall upon deaf ears today. You have one last chance to come peacefully." But as hands reached for weapons all around her, she knew it was her words which had fallen upon deaf ears. He laughed, truly laughed.

"Should I quake in my boots? Three women against my men? One a cripple! You shame me with your presence vermin, you offend me with your vile magic, stolen from my Masters. I shall see every drop of your stolen blood spilled, I shall feel it flow over my skin, still warm and full of life. That is your destiny, to bleed out right here at my feet, your only purpose to bring me pleasure as I get to watch the life flee your eyes. The cripple dies first!" At his final words, the beast within finally escaped in an animal like snarl, her teeth bared and her fist clenched the hilt of her sword so tight her knuckles turned white. With no further words, for what else was there to say? Ezhra took two bounding steps before she leapt as only an elf could, and cleared the space of fifty feet between them in one jump. As she flew through the air, she instinctively pulled her blade free. As the distance spread between her, Vita and Aesa, she felt her strength seep slightly, but maintained the plugs in their ears. In the two breaths it took for her to land before him, her foe had no time to fully prepare. Ezhra straightened from her crouched landing, whipping her blade up so fast she felt the gust of air rush by her cheek, she could see the incredulous look upon his face before he quickly raised his sword to deflect her blow. Sparks flew as their blades met, but in his moments surprise, he could not stop the full sweep of her attack and a spray of warm blood hit her cheek as she sliced through cloth and skin across his chest. She was so close she could feel his breath upon her skin.

"You are wrong." She hissed. "It is I who shall bathe in your filthy blood." But there was no more time for talk, Zodak recovered quickly, and within a blink they were engaged in battle. It was life or death, only one would be left standing.

Vita had fought with Aesa and Ezhra, she had won. They could not hope to win this fight without her support and she simply would not be left behind. But her determination did not dilute her fear. As Ezhra leapt, practically flying over the crowd, it settled upon Vita like a shadow, just how useless she was. Aesa's hands were free, but there were knives hidden all over her person. Vita had watched her practice and knew she would very likely cause serious damage with them. Vita could not wield a weapon. All she could do was Weave. She just hoped it would be enough. The men came for them the minute Ezhra's feet left the floor. As though someone had called them to action, the crowd had split into two factions, those who remained loyal to Elindor, and the few but fierce who had already succumbed to the powers of Zodak. Vita's ears were deafened and she had heard none of the exchange between the master of words and Ezhra, but she had recognised the seething anger as it rolled from the elf, she had seen the snarl upon her lips and the way in which she had bared her teeth, as though ready to rip him apart like a beast. They had come to Elindor in search of an ally, watching Ezhra leap through the air and draw blood in the first sweep of her blade only served as a reminder that they had found such a person. Now she had to try and keep her alive. The men charging for her were not stupid, they knew they had to despatch her and Aesa and then return to their master to protect him, they must kill the two women first so as to protect Zodak's back. But as the men ran, blades flashing in the sun, Vita took a calming breath and let her mind wander away from the anger all around her. She thought of Aesa's birthing day, when she had first held the tiny bundle of love in her arms. Of the hope and joy that had come with the baby. And so it was with a smile upon her face and eyes full of love that Vita killed someone for the first time. He had little chance, still too far to make use of his sword, as Vita's eyes locked on his, his expression changed from one of murderous intent to one confused by the serene face before him. And then the fire consumed him, from nowhere flames wrapped around his whole body, completely consuming him as though he wore a red orange cloak. She could not hear his screams, perhaps this was a blessing, his pleas for the pain to stop as he writhed on the floor, futilely trying to put out the mystical flames. But they answered to none but Vita, and as his skin blackened and his eyes locked on hers once more, she kept the smile firmly in place.

A spray of red hot flames to Aesa's right told her that her Aunt had just dispatched the first opponent. She had not known what to expect, but deep down Aesa knew she should feel revulsion at the man rolling on the floor, trying in vain to halt his fate. But she felt nothing, not the heat of the flames, nor the pain of the man. Nothing penetrated her heart of ice. Acting as a polar opposite to the welcoming smile upon the Aunt's lips, the niece's eyes were so hard it was as though her opponent were looking into the unfaltering stare of a dead woman. It happened slowly, a thin trickle of red mixed with orange slithered around her wrist, moving with the sinuous movements of a snake as it made its way up her left arm until her pale limb was completely aflame. With her left hand, she pulled a long and wicked knife from the sheath at her belt, welcoming the fight, hungering for it. An almighty scream ripped from her throat, her chest vibrated at the ferocity of her cry. Though his sword and arm were long, Aesa had anticipated him, as the huge man charged her she slipped beneath his guard easily, pulling the knife up his thigh, feeling the blade as it pulled at his skin, a deep cut which she knew would cause immense pain, but not enough to hobble him. Without hesitation she reached with her right hand placing it atop his chest over his heart, the burning hot flames burning through his tunic so quickly she could almost smell the hairs upon the skin beneath burning. But he pulled his knee up into her gut with such force it knock her off her feet. He did not underestimate her again, this time attacking in a more protected stance, keeping his distance he relied upon his extra height to reach down and stab her on the ground. But she rolled at the last minute and was on her feet before he could take another swing.

Ezhra gritted her teeth as she spun away from Zodak's imposing attack. He was bloody good she had to concede. She could feel the slight tickle of a bead of sweat forming upon her brow, her heart beat furiously as she wondered whether she had finally met her match. Her fate was uncertain, but she knew one thing with define clarity. She would die gladly this day if she took this man with her. Seeing an opening, Ezhra lunged forward, thrusting sharply but maintaining distance, he sensed her movement and sidestepped just in time to miss a sword in the gut, instead the blade shot throw the tender meat of his thigh. Still deaf, Ezhra grinned as she imagined his scream. His arm moved faster than she would have thought possible for a human, she was able to block but as she focused her strength on forcing the point of his sword away from her his fist came from nowhere and smashed into her chin. The blow was staggering, blood sprayed from her mouth and the warm liquid spilled down over her cut lip. Furious with herself for letting him draw blood, Ezhra pushed forward in an attack. Her swords master had always taught her to remain detached, to rise to anger was to invite mistakes. But anger could also be a weapon, allow it in in small doses and you kept your head and found strength when you thought it had fled.

Allowing herself one glimpse, Aesa could see Aunt Vita keeping the frenzied town people at bay with her fire, her Aunt's eyes met hers and in that moment they felt each other's love. Aesa had to reach her, Vita could not fight with any weapon but the power she wielded and there were limitations to what she could do. Pulling her eyes away, Aesa watched warily as the last Svetian approached her, with dead bodies scattered by her feet, some with smouldering burns upon their bodies, others with blood spilling in bucket loads, she watched her last foe come. She could tell he was not merely muscle, this man was intelligent, she could see it in the spark in his eyes. And he had waited until she had no more knives to throw, there was one on the ground, still embedded in the chest of a body. To leap for it would be a fatal mistake, she knew it and he knew it. As he stalked closer, she tended her flames, allowing them to burn so bright her eyes saw spots when she blinked. Her only option was to try and burn him before he reached her, with his size he could crush her in minutes. Seeing her make the decision, he lunged. As his body hit hers the impact knocked the breath from her lungs, but keeping her head Aesa sent the flames curling around his throat like a rope, pulling tighter and tighter. His eyes bulged in fear, so close she could see the flecks of green in the blue. And then he smiled.

Chapter 18

Arms as thick as tree trunks wrapped around her, pulling her as close as lovers. And then he tugged her over the wall and into the canal. As their bodies hit the water, hers first, Aesa knew she was going to die. His weight was crushing her, driving her further into the ice cold water, the flames extinguished and her energy fled instantly. NO! She screamed in her head. This could not be it. This was not how she would die. He let go, swimming to the surface for air, one of his booted feet kicking her in the shoulder on his way. She screamed in pain and swallowed water. No. Not like this. She may not have her fire but she was not dead yet, kicking her legs her head finally broke through the water at the same moment her hearing came back with a distinctive pop. He was on her before she had even had time to open her eyes. Mouth still open in shock, water poured down her throat like quick acting poison. She struggled against him, but his superior strength won, she felt herself drifting, unable to hold on any longer. In the end, it was the man she was trying to kill who saved her. Before she could slip away he dragged her head back out into the sweet fresh air.

"You deserve to watch your friends die first witch. It is the least you deserve." With fingers as thick as sausages he pulled her chin around so she was looking up at the crowd. Her Aunt was still fighting, the flames ferociously pushing back the group advancing, but it was inevitable. They were separating, planning on attacking from all angles. Within minutes Aunt Vita would be dead and there was nothing Aesa could do. She was powerless, her Ability stifled by the body of water.

"Aunt Vita!" She screamed, her voice desperate and hoarse. The man holding her there laughed deeply.

"Aunt is it? Maybe I should tell my friends to cut her hands off, cripple her further. And then there is the scum elf. She won't die quick, no no no. She will suffer like no other. We will cut out her lying tongue and-" But Aesa had heard enough. She was done being the victim, she was through listening to this snivelling wreck intimidate her. She had travelled from a distant country, braved the unpredictable sea in a boat so old it made the elves seem young, she was mastering her powers, she was preparing for the battle that would finally soothe her aching heart. His words fell on deaf ears, for Aesa was ice. Her heart frozen by the atrocities committed by this man's country. And nothing could penetrate it.

Vita knew she was losing. If she had use of her hands she may have been in with a chance, but to wish would not make it so. And if she was to die, she would look upon her beloved niece one last time. Aesa's dark hair was plastered to her head, water dripped down her face. The man holding her in place was talking, she could see his lips moving and Aesa's eyes filling with fear and revulsion. And then something changed, the cold and calculated look returned so quickly it was as though a gate had slammed shut on her soul.

"NO!" Aesa's screech was unlike anything Vita had ever heard before, it echoed between the buildings shadowing the canal, brought the fighting to a standstill, and left a ringing in her ears. There was a pause, breaths everywhere were held, even the light wind ceased tugging at her hair, nobody blinked, nobody moved. The air grew as cold as the winters back home, Vita could see the breath as it left her lips. Like all of the people around him, Aesa's opponent also felt the change, the taunting glare quickly turned to fear as he desperately snatched his arms away, pulling himself through the water. But there was nowhere to run. A fierce crackle snapped through the air, the water lapping at Aesa's chest hardened to ice, and then she was rising out of the water upon a platform of ice, not only Aesa's eyes, but her very skin hardening, a blue sheen of frost. Water rained down from the platform, hardening to icicles before it hit the lake as sharp as knives. Tears of terror froze upon his cheeks as his skin was pelted by the missiles, drawing blood, the Svetian continued to swim desperately trying to reach the edge of the canal working against the cold in his veins. His eyes begged forgiveness, but Vita knew that there was no escape for him, wherever Aesa was, it held no place for mercy. She extended her left arm, a single finger pointing, and the water still raining down from where she hovered froze in the air. "Stop." Aesa barely spoke, not even a whisper. But Vita heard the word as though it had been muttered into her ear. The command worked. He stopped where he was, not even his legs kicking to stay afloat, instead the water froze, holding him in an ice prison, his body encased by the very lake he had thrown himself in to stop Aesa's unfathomable power. Vita watched on as the man's skin quickly turned blue, his nose and the hand held out of the water already showing the signs of frostbite, his breathing slowed down to a dangerous level. Each breath taken in and out watched by the hundreds of people gathered, unsure of what to expect as he froze before their very eyes. But no one could have foreseen what would happen next.

Aesa stood atop her frozen platform, she could see everywhere around her the effects of her icy powers, but she did not feel the cold, it did not touch her. The air was still, and though she knew her hearing had been returned to her, she was met with silence. It was as though the world waited for her next move. With nothing but ice in her heart, Aesa wished the man before her to meet the same fate. Instead of warm blood coursing through his body, she wished for ice. As the thought entered her head, he looked into her eyes, his final act of imploring her aide. But there was no room in her for warmth. Clicking the fingers of her left hand, the man's head exploded in a burst of blue ice and crimson blood. And a smile crept onto her face.

Liam still had one hand gripped around the hilt of his sword and the other lost within the folds of his neighbour's tunic. Only one week before, Liam had shared a mug of mead with the man who now stood at the point of his sword. Only one week before, life was normal. His sister in law and niece were alive and well, his nephew safe and sound. But no matter how far from the front line, you could never be safe in time of war. Liam knew this, had even anticipated it. But nothing could have prepared him for what he had seen this day, for what he had done. The fist that clenched Norlan's tunic was splattered with blood; his nostrils were filled with the stench of death, the streets awash with dead bodies, unattached parts and puddles of blood. Anger coursed through his veins, his heart pumping fast with adrenaline. But as Aesa rose from the canal on her plinth of ice, he felt the blood in his veins cool down almost instantly, his breath coming in short gasps. Never had he seen such a beautiful yet terrifying vision. With the demise of the final Svetian guard, Liam knew that they were on the way to winning. The people all stood petrified, it was as though Aesa's display of power had left the people amassed in a frozen stupor. But he knew it would not last long.

"Hurry my Lady." Liam whispered to himself, imploring Ezhra to end her own fight swiftly. But he was not to know how she fared, nor how the blood dripping from the end of her blade did not all belong to Zodak.

Ezhra stalked her prey. The streets of Shadow Hill were empty, devoid of life. Warm blood snaked down her jaw line from the eardrum she feared was now burst. Hearing restored, it came in a tinny quality, unlike anything she was used to; though she doubted she would have heard anything over the fierce pounding of her heart. Her hearing may not be up to standard, but her eyes remained sharp. Up ahead, next to an abandoned cart she could see the tell-tale sign of rusty coloured fresh blood, she had not come from that way so she knew it was not her own. Zodak was not the only one to bleed this day, she could feel the blood from her latest injury pooling in the sole of her boot. Zodak had struck her deep in the thigh, every step was agony but she closed the pain away. Locked it in a part of her mind she could only get to at the end of this fight. The battle was closely matched, though it went against all that she believed and had witnessed; Zodak commanded a magic of his own, though by his taunts she knew him to be no Mage. Magic or not, Ezhra was done with this fight. No more hiding, playing the prey and the predator.

"Come out and face me like a man!" She roared, her voice echoing through the empty streets. As she waited, Ezhra steadied her mind, putting aside feeling and emotion, leaving a trickle of anger to fuel her flames. In that moment, whilst she awaited death, Ezhra thought of Evindäl. She looked upon his face one last time, felt the brush of his lips against hers and heard his voice whisper her name. Zodak appeared, stepping from the alley by the overturned cart like an apparition. The man before her bore many marks from their recent struggles, crimson slashes covered him like a paintwork; but Ezhra knew that she too bore reminders of how close she had come to death. It hung over her now like a shadow, waiting. The long length of his sword gleamed in the fierce sunlight, forcing her to blink. But it was the smile upon his lips which captivated her. Where terror had a place in her heart, his eyes revealed his assurance that he would win this bout. His new found optimism gave her pause, what further magic could this man master? But Ezhra did not have to wait long for the answer to her own question, she realised as his deep resonating laugh filled the street with a sinister air.

"You are brave and yet foolish Lady of Elindor. You fight for a dying country against an army who only grows stronger." His handsome face twisted into a snarl. "Your resistance will come to end when I turn your own people against you." Despite the ringing in her ear, she still heard his words clearly, and as he spoke she pictured it in her head. She saw the most beautiful places in Elindor crumble before her eyes, the White Palace left to decay and rot in abandon. "Elves." He spat. "Are an abomination that will be dealt with. Your race will be extinct, my only wish is that I could keep you alive long enough to see your people burn in the fiery death they deserve." Tears filled her eyes as she watched her mother dragged from their home, at Rhaenion's feet lay the bodies of Ezhra's family, their life blood feeding the ground beneath them. The screams from her mother's lips were horrifying, captivating. As Ezhra stood, lost within her own mind, watching the atrocities the Svetian's would bring upon her people, Zodak made his move. A resounding snap woke her as sharply as a bucket of ice cold water may have. Zodak approached, his sword held ready to strike, but it was his left hand which now caught her attention. Coiled around his clenched fist, barely visible to the naked eye, Zodak held a whip made from concentrated air, the only tell-tale sign was the slight shimmering by his wrist, trailing down to the ground. The dust by his feet had been disrupted when he cracked his mystical whip and it was this which kept death at bay for at least a moment longer. As quick as a snake, Zodak pulled the whip up, spinning it around his head like a rope and with the full strength in his powerful arms, he cracked it at her, the end catching her across the cheek. The force hit like a blow and Ezhra felt her legs fly out from under her, her body sailed through the air. But Ezhra had training for decades in combat and her reaction was instant. Landing on her feet in a low crouch, she pounced. The long whip less effective at close range, she utilised her strength, and began to Weave.

Beads of sweat ran from Vita's hairline, down her face and into her eyes. It was not the heat from her flames which caused the reaction, but the terror in her heart. She could not win. Aesa had killed the last Svetian in a feat Vita would have deemed impossible. But she was too far, Liam was nowhere visible and the people surrounding her glared with fierce eyes, she was the source of all of their pain and suffering. She Weaved and so was the root of all evil in the eyes of the people amassed. And she had unleashed her deathly flames upon them, justifying their need to kill her. The accusing stares brought back painful memories of Sana's exile, the day which had led them down this path. She whispered her sisters name, praying for her forgiveness and for her love one final time before she took her last breath. Though futile, she kept her flames burning bright, trying to hold back the inevitable. But in two blinks, her killer was before her, his wicked curved knife glinted in the light now pouring through the street.

"Good bye Aesa." She whispered, as the man thrust the blade into her stomach and pain like nothing she had ever felt before burned through her entire being.

Liam watched in horror as a man he did not know ducked through Vita's flames. It was the light reflecting into his eyes which caught Liam's attention. With a roar of determination and a burst of energy he had not known existed, Liam catapulted himself toward the Healer, his bulk easily knocked people aside in his hasty lunge. More than one weapon whistled past him, but he moved so fast not one touched his skin. At the last moment, Liam jumped. Too late to deflect the blow entirely, he tackled the man to the ground, taking him down by the waist and breaking his neck as easily as he may have an animal. Snarling at the others, now closing in, he caught Vita as she slumped to the ground, her arms no longer able to support her body.

"Jones!" He screamed, praying his friend would hear his cry. Luck was on his side, Jones was next to him almost instantly, and together they defended the dying body of the strange Healer from Debdran.

Zodak realised his mistake the moment he brought his arm around for a second slash. The Lady was so fast, her long arms reaching for him across the distance, covering ground in seconds. There was no time to raise his sword arm to deflect her blow, for she was not wasting time with the weapon which now dropped from her hand uselessly. He could see the power within her eyes as she made one last desperate attempt to kill him, drawing on the heat in the now fierce sunlight and the air which whistled between the buildings. The ball of energy which hit him full force in the stomach knocked all of the wind out of him and sent him flying backward away from her. The momentum which sent him flying gave him the distance he needed, and with a flick of his wrist, the whip made entirely of concentrated air wound its way around her throat in a death vice, forcing her to follow him on his backward fall. Landing atop him in an awkward embrace, for a second they lay as lovers may. But despite her beautiful face, he knew the blood which coursed through her veins was an abomination to all that he believed in. Pulling the noose tighter around her neck, a shiver of pleasure ran down Zodak's back as he watched her eyes widen in fear. Her creamy skin already purpling as her throat began to cave under the pressure. But the Lady did something he had not anticipated, she pushed herself away from him, her knees now straddling him and causing the rope to tighten, reducing her time left even further. His grin widened. His only regret was not being able to sate all of his desires on her once before she died. It was not to be, perhaps the young woman would have been spared by his guards, she would do nicely. He felt himself stiffen beneath the Lady as he thought of what fun he could have once he was finished with this nuisance, whose only purpose now was to die atop him feeding his hunger for a female form.

Ezhra knew she was about to die, the magical noose about her neck as deadly as any rope tightened, unable to get any grip, she had no cards left to play. Her life was to be measured in seconds and it was those seconds which she would make count. Using the remainder of her ebbing strength, she pushed herself away from him, not wanting to die lying atop his chest like a lover, but as she straddled him, feeling the life quickly leave her, Zodak stiffened beneath her, his predatory smile becoming even more terrifying in its ferocity. Spots appeared in her eyes, her vision rapidly deteriorating and the noose cut off oxygen to her brain, it was now or never. She kept his gaze fixed upon her eyes by struggling slightly, squirming over his excited body, feeling revulsion for what she was doing, but knowing the importance of it. As he stared at her, she could see how he wanted her deep in his feral eyes, but he would never have a woman again, for with his eyes clearly raptured on her, she plunged the blade of her knife deep into his chest, burying it deep in his black heart.

Chapter 19

Evindäl opened his eyes, the sun Goddess shone so brightly he had to raise his hands against the glare. His limbs ached as though they had not been used for days. He stretched, the pops from his muscles cracking through the silent air. With the noise, which seemed a desecration to the sacred ground, came a clarity to the Elven Prince that he had not just arrived in this place. The Mourning Sleep of his people had captivated him as it has so many others over the centuries. How long had he been out? A day, a week, a moon? There was no way for him to tell, but the growl of his empty stomach and the burning in his throat was an indication that it had been at least a handful of days. He must tread lightly from this point on. The Mourning Sleep was a danger to his race, could enrapture you for thousands of years, your body slowly decaying as you slept. Forcing away the fatigue which still threatened to overwhelm him, Evindäl pushed himself onto his feet. Despair still enshrouded him as he finally looked upon the Forest of Myrení, even here at the very edge of his home, he could see the black trunks of now dead trees. Upon the floor, his sharp eyes could see the remnants of a war long since passed, weapons discarded or dropped, now covered over with a thousand years growth. The burning at the back of his throat grew fiercer, his need for water was apparent, but he also held back tears which could threaten to consume him. His true home may be in ruins, but his people were not dead. He would fight the fatigue of the forest with every step until he found their salvation.

Vita opened her eyes begrudgingly, the sleep still clung to her in the form of foggy thoughts and misty eyes.

"Aunt Vita! You're awake!" Ema's excited voice broke through her haze and sent a smile to her cracked lips.

"Yes I'm bloody awake child, so there's no need to shout!" She whispered, her voice hoarse. Her words only made the smile on Ema's lips brighten.

"You really shouldn't use such bad language Aunt Vita, or I will have to tell Aunt Aesa." To the left she could hear the soft chuckle of her niece and the loud laugh of Ezhra. With effort, Vita forced a scowl to her face. Being told off by a bloody child. Life had a cruel and ironic way of spinning around on itself.

"Here Aunt, sip this." Aesa was next to her instantly, her soft hands raising Vita's head so that she could taste the refreshingly cold water trickling down her throat. After a few more minutes, in which time Ema repeatedly touched Vita's face, seemingly to check Vita was truly awake, she felt well enough to hear what the bloody hell was going on and how she was even breathing.

"Liam saved your life. The bloody foolish man nearly got himself killed ten times over protecting you as you bled out by his feet. Jones lost two fingers keeping the hoard at bay. The rest of Shadow Hill quickly got involved once Zodak died though, and those who had been enthralled by that viper's word were either killed or arrested."

"Well. Isn't that something!" Vita exclaimed, unsure what else there was to say. Nobody had ever saved her life before, save Sana and Mistress Lania. "I'm guessing you Healed me?"

"And then some!" Ezhra replied, smiling knowingly. With a pounding headache and feeling as though someone had sliced half her body open, which she supposed they had, Vita was not in the mood for riddles. But before she could open her mouth Ezhra's expression changed and she nodded, as though reading Vita's mind. "Aesa Healed you alright, but she used her Ability. She Weaved in order to save your life. I have never seen anyone do so based only on instinct, having had no training before. Your wound was not one which normal remedies could have saved." Aesa stood by the window, looking out at the street below. But at Ezhra's words she turned back to them, gracing Vita with a rare and sincere smile.

"I doubt I could do so again, but I am glad I had the Ability to save you." Her eyes misted over and Vita feared her niece was losing herself to the demons within again. "In truth, I doubt I could live without you Aunt Vita. I don't ever wish to find out." Her words were spoken softly, but left no doubt in Vita's mind that her niece had just issued her with a command.

"Like I bloody planned on getting stabbed." She muttered miserably, hearing in her own voice the petulance she so despised in others. Aesa's eyes pierced like lightning.

"That won't be happening again. I have no intention of allowing you to join the fight. And I will not discuss this further with you. I have Ezhra's word that she will place you in the Healing tents." As though anticipating Vita's next words, Aesa stepped forward, her stride powerful. "I will not lose you." She stormed out of the room.

"Well that could have gone worse." Ezhra said, breaking the silence. Vita could think of nothing to say, she just lay in shock at the bizarre turn of events. "I did argue your case. But she is a stubborn one your niece. Not unlike her Aunt." Ezhra said with a slight twinkle in her eyes. "She has made me promise to tie you up in a cart if you even try to join the fight." Vita started to laugh, but by the look on Ezhra's ageless face, the sound was stifled.

"Well, I appreciate her concerns but I will not stand back and do nothing whilst there is still breath left in this body." Her temper was ignited, Aesa meant everything to Vita, but so had the rest of their family. They were gone now and Vita had sworn an oath to avenge them. She had vowed to follow her niece wherever she went. Tears sprang to her eyes at the helplessness of it all. All her life she had strived to be strong, to never let her injuries hold her back. This was the most important mission she had ever had, the life of Aesa hung in the balance, the vengeance of her beloved family was at stake and she could do nothing. Ezhra came and sat on the edge of the bed, taking one of Vita's aging hands into her flawless ones.

"Vita my friend. I understand your anger and your pain. Traditionally, female elves are not permitted in any battle. They are not even allowed near the front line. My mother is an anomaly, normally we as a race struggle to conceive. One in five females will produce offspring in their lifetime, and usually no more than twice. When we lived alone in the Forest of Myrení, closed away from the rest of the world and all of its problems, we were a strong race. But once we stepped foot outside of our trees, life changed. To allow our women to war invites the end of our race. As a child, I demanded to be taught how to sword fight like my brothers, I grew up dreaming of fighting for my loved ones but I also knew my place was as a wife, raising children. When the invaders first arrived in our country, my first thought was to marry the man I loved before he rode to war. It wasn't until we were refused that something within me changed. I wanted to defend the people I loved, if I couldn't be with him then I would help to protect him. The point I am trying to make, is that I understand how it feels to think you are unable to do something. For what it's worth, I intend to find a solution to this. I can never give you your legs back, but I won't stop until I find a way for you to appease the vows I know you have sworn." Vita was left speechless, her heart ached for the women before her, for having known love and lost it. Her soul wept for herself, for what she could not do.

With every soft step of his feet, Evindäl felt his heart breaking. It felt as though he was losing Ezhra all over again. Resting a palm upon the bark of an Elder tree which towered over him, he felt the life flowing through the trunk, the magic thrummed through his veins. This was what he should focus on, the life which still breathed through the forest. It wanted to live. He could feel that in the cool air as it brushed against his cheek, the dewy grass beneath his feet still so green and vibrant even after a thousand years untouched. The trees themselves sang to him, their magical strength reaching out to him, warming his heart with every sound. Their home may have been destroyed, their houses torn from the tree tops, their belongings burned to the ground, their very lives slaughtered for simply being different. But here, in this place and at this time, Evindäl knew that Myrení was not lost. With the new found hope in his heart, he looked about him with open eyes. Rather than the desolation he had been witnessing, he saw the past, the array of flowers covering the ground, naturally growing in a pattern so that a path wound through the forest, the colours so vivid and the smells so sweet he almost believed they were there. Above him he heard his people, laughing and joking in the Old Tongue as they went about their business, travelling between the trees with ease via bridges made from the branches above his head. It was an art which had been lost to his people as they built with mortar and not with nature. When they had lived in the stone walls of the outside world their minds had forgotten so much of their past. But he could hear it now, as clearly as he heard the voices of his ancestors. The song which connected all Elves to this forest, the magic of Aodolys. It thrummed through his blood, it welcomed him home. "Come." It whispered in the recesses of his mind, waking a part of him which had been dormant. "Join us Prince." Placing his hands back upon the rough bark, as though by instinct, he allowed the magic all around to fill him, and then he opened his mouth and began to sing.

Dashél pulled his baldric over his head, allowing his sword to rest against his left hip. He may be a Healer but he was not unused to the feel of steel in his hand, nor was he a fool. They had had more than one occasion where assassins had slipped past their guard. They could hardly expect anything less, this was war and neither side were fighting fairly. It had been nearly a full moon since Elion had come to join the fight, and finally they were all here. Ayred had been leading a squadron on a mission, doing what, Dashél did not know. But he had returned this day and almost like a normal family, they were dining together. Haroun had ensured that none of them were on guard duty this evening. It was a blessing in an otherwise chaotic world. Stepping up to his father's tent, he saw Ayred stood closely talking to their father. All of the brothers, barring Elion, had taken after Haroun. With broad shoulders, dark hair and blue eyes they could be seen as brothers. Haroun looked no more than thirty in human years, but his life had spanned nearly a thousand. Most elves simply took it as their life, something to do with the magic which thrummed through their veins, but Dashél had always been curious as to why elves matured after a century and yet took a millennia to age more than another decade. His father spotted him and raised a hand in greeting. Whilst none of them wore their armour, each had their swords firmly strapped to their bodies and Dashél knew his brother well enough to expect hidden weapons on Ayred.

"Welcome brother!" Ayred exclaimed, clapping him on the back and threatening to take the wind right from his lungs.

"Will you ever learn of your own strength?" He asked cheerfully. His heart filling with warmth to see his brother unharmed.

"He knows of it he just likes to show it off!" Elion called out, materialising from behind the tent. His light brown hair had been hastily brushed back, and was still wet from a recent wash, but he had not managed to clean all of the blood out, the rusty colour clinging to his locks stubbornly. It made him resemble their sister even more, for her golden red hair was unlike anything an elf had seen before. Having always been filled with a confidence which seemed natural in the youngest family member, now he appeared sheepish, cowed by the people around him.

"Son, come into the light." Haroun said softly, his eyes filling with concern and compassion. It was a trait which Dashél had always respected in his father and had tried to emulate throughout his own life. As Elion stepped forward, it quickly became apparent what he was trying to hide. Though the blood atop his head appeared to belong to another, he had a bandage spreading up his forearm which seeped red. Dashél needed no more than that glance and to touch out softly with his Ability to feel that the cut was deep and must be causing great pain to his brother. All of them started talking at once, Elion trying to brush aside concern, Haroun telling Dashél to do something, Dashél telling Elion to sit quickly. But it was Ayred who recognised instantly what was truly bothering their brother. He had always had that quality, a quiet and reserved man Ayred often watched events unfold, always calculating, always measuring. It was what made him such a great leader.

"Stop fussing. Both of you. Elion, come, sit with us." They all did as they were told, even Haroun who pursued his lips in irritation but remained silent. "Brother." His voice filled with emotion, a rarity for their steadfast sibling. Without saying another word, he stood up and pulled his tunic off. Normally, this would have brought on a bout of teasing for him showing off. But today, no one said a word. Crisscrossed all over Ayred's body were a multitude of scars, some small, menial, others so thick Dashél wondered how he had not been asked to heal them in order to save his brother from blood loss. "Nobody comes away from war unscathed. It does not make us any less of a man. You should wear your wound with pride brother. As we are proud of you for your bravery and your tenacity." The silence stretched on, Elion staring into Ayred's eyes with a wet sheen to his eyes. It was Haroun who broke the silence.

"To all the brave souls who have entered this fight. To those who have lived to tell the tale and to those who have lain down their lives for the good of others. To my children, Ayred, the strongest of us all. Your cool rational has kept us fighting longer than we ever thought possible. Dashél, the cleverest of us all. Your truly awing gifts have saved more lives than I can count, we are all in your debt. To Aimar and Almar, your loss is a pain we will forever bare, your sacrifice is a debt we will never be able to repay, but know that each and every day we miss you both like a hole punched through our hearts. Ezhra'lí, my head strong little girl, never in all of my years have I known someone withhold the Abilities which reside in you, for no other has the empathy nor the strength to harness them. And to Elion, my youngest and bravest. To live within the shadows of your brothers and sister, and to stand up in the light, I could never be more proud than I am in this moment looking upon you son." They all raised their mugs in cheers.

"To the bravest of us all." Ayred said. "For standing up to Mother and coming here!" His joke brought about laughs all around and broke the sombre spell which had encased them all.

"Now let's eat!" Haroun announced, serving them the stew he had prepared himself.

"We better not tell Mother about this." Elion said, looking at them each as though in on a big secret.

"Why ever not?" Dashél asked.

"If she knows father can cook after all this time she will never let him out the kitchen!" Another burst of laughter and Dashél finally felt the oppressive fear for his people lifting. As long as they stood, their land would remain.

Haroun looked around at his sons, pride swelling in his heart. Never in his lifetime had he expected to be blessed with so many wonderful children. To have the love and devotion of a woman as inspiring as Rhaenion had been enough for him five hundred years ago, as they had exchanged vows. But when Ayred had come into the world, with little fuss or ceremony as was his way, Haroun's heart had swelled. That had been it, they thought they had received their lot in life. And they were content. And now, he had had five strong sons and a wonderful daughter, if a little stubborn at times. The Goddess had been good to him. A peace suddenly settled over him. A strange feeling in his veins, the very blood that ran through him responding to some unheard sound. He was on his feet, the bowl of stew fallen to the floor in his daze. A part of his mind which had been locked for so long flew open and from it came a song so beautiful it brought tears to his eyes all over again. He did not need to look to know that his sons were with him, he could hear their blood singing too. As one, they raised their voices in a song long buried in the crevices of their minds.

Aesa didn't know what to do, one minute she had been talking to Ezhra, the next instant the elf was on her knees, her eyes far away. A heat rolled from the elf like nothing Aesa had ever experienced. And when she waved her hands before Ezhra's eyes, there was no response. When Aesa was thinking of calling out to her Aunt for help, the elf opened her mouth as though to speak. But instead, a long high note resonated from deep within Ezhra's chest and spilled out into the air in a beautiful and melancholy note. Words in a language Aesa did not know came forth, in a hauntingly beautiful song which brought tears to her eyes and hope to her heart. Somehow Aesa knew, what she was witnessing was history in the making. A beautiful display the like of which had never been witnessed by a human. She could not have torn her eyes away even if she wanted to. The song continued, the words surrounding Aesa like a long lost friend.

Evindäl opened his eyes for the third time, unsure of how long they had been closed. His hands still rested lightly upon the bark, the rough feeling beneath his fingers bringing him back to the present. His throat ached, this time with use. The remnants of his song still clung to him, the words floating through his conscious, the power behind them so strong he could almost taste it. Instinct led him where he was blind, he had never commanded such power before. In his own right Evindäl was a powerful Weaver, but the magic which had coursed through him as he sang was unlike anything he had ever experienced. Whilst he had sung he had heard them, his people, their voices joining with him in harmony. He had felt her like she were right next to him, her love and devotion to him, he had heard his sister and his mother, had felt where they were within the palace, had known that they sang with joy, with tears running down Edraele's beautiful face. For the duration of the song, they had been one again, his blood was their blood. The elven race connected as they should be. His eyes raised upward, something telling him to look to the tree tops. Whilst he had felt the power washing through him, opening his eyes fully for the first time in his life, he had not known what to expect. Up within the safety of the trees, he saw bridges made from the branches twisted and wrapped around each other, wide enough for six people to walk across safely. Green leaves still sprung from them in places, and they warped into the trees easily, camouflaged against their natural habitat. As far as his eyes could see, the bridges continued on, sometimes wrapping around the trunk of a tree so that he could walk uninhibited, sometimes disappearing into the canopy of the forest so as to not harm the trees themselves. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever beheld. He only wished Ezhra were with him. From where the toes of his boots touched the trunk of the tree steps had grown, they were rough and in places large leaps were needed, but he was new to the ancestral power of his people and the climb only brought him more joy. In wonder, he reached the top and stepped onto the bridge he had carved with the voice of his race. Knowing it would lead him exactly where he needed to be, he followed it blindly, his faith in the power of his people and the grace of his Goddess leading him on

Chapter 20

Ezhra crouched low, her long limbs moving fluidly, no hint of resistance. Her cat like eyes scanned the landscape before them. She could feel the growl wanting to escape, that animal instinct within her that screamed to be released. Ahead, she could sense danger. But whether it was the upcoming reunion with Sana, or some other unseen threat, Ezhra did not know. The sound of the horses pawing the earth, eager to continue, the light breathing of her companions, the trickle of water as it made its way along a creek in the distance. These sounds accompanied her, but louder than the rest, she heard the sound of her own blood singing, still thrumming with magic through her veins. It had died down after that moment of pure bliss five days before. And yet it lingered, as though now part of her. She had never been to the Forest of Myrení, had never stepped between its trunks, had never been home. But the magic which now coursed through her was ancient. Some primal instinct within her knew that it was her birth right; that it would never go away. It linked her with her people. Having felt it, having felt the others, she could not bear to think of a life without it. How her elders had lived having had this torn away from them she did not know. She wished that she had been with another of her kind during the Awakening, as she had come to think of it, she had only her own experience and thoughts to go by. But when she had first blinked, rousing from the trance she had been in, to see Aesa staring at her, with tears flowing over her beautiful cheeks, Ezhra had known something had changed. Her already piercing sight and hearing were more in tune than ever, the Ability which she knew so well pulsed as though a living thing within her being. Just thinking of that moment almost took her back within the trance. She had to remain alert, she wanted answers and she would get them, if they could survive that long. Remaining crouched low, she made her way back to the others who were sheltered within the trees.

"There is something ahead, I can feel it."

"What is it? People?" Vita asked, now sitting up in her cart, Ezhra was happy to see she was returning to full health. Her recovery had been somewhat of a miracle, taking only two days to be well enough to travel. Once again, she mused on the extent of Aesa's gifts.

"I don't know. It is an instinct; I can sense there is danger ahead for us." She left unsaid she feared it could be from Sana. "We stand only an hours walk from the border between countries, from there we travel two days through unchartered territory."

"Uncharted?" Aesa asked, keeping her voice low in reverence to Ezhra's instinct. She shrugged.

"In theory it belongs to Lopal, but in reality is left to rule itself. In my studies, I was always told to enter Lopal to the East. But for us to do so will add at least another week to our journey, a week we do not have. This area has been this way since before my time. I believe that it stems from previous wars, this was left to run itself with criminals and no laws so as to dissuade people from trying to pass through."

"We are not scared Ezhra." Ema said, sitting up taller. Since Shadow Hill she had been acting differently, Ezhra couldn't help but fear the girl felt she should not have been left behind during their battle. She smiled kindly at the child.

"I know little one, but we must tread carefully. I do not think they will take warmly to my kind here, be vigilant and be wary. If we do pass anyone, talk as little as possible." Pulling her hood high over her head, covering her braid and casting a shadow across her face she set off.

Evindäl had barely stopped for days, he ate through his rations at a steady pace, but as his stores dwindled he quickly found that the forest provided. It was his third morning when he heard his stomach growl loudly. As the sound echoed in the still forest, the tree before him rippled. As he neared, stepping from one branch bridge to the next, he saw violent purple fruits, three in total. As he had bitten into the soft flesh a moan had escaped. Sweet juice burst into his mouth and with it, his hunger quickly died down. The fruits were all he needed for the rest of the day. He felt little fatigue, despite his continuous journey with no sleep. His father had told him of this, years ago. When Evindäl had asked of their home, sorrow had etched itself across the Kings face, Evindäl had instantly regretted raising the question but kind to the end, his Father waved away his concerns.

"Your curiosity does not sadden me my son, in fact it keeps me going. But the memory of all we lost is sometimes too much to bare. Let me tell you of happier times, when I first laid eyes upon your mother. In the Forest of Myrení, sleep is something we did little as a race, when we slept we often dreamt of things to come. They came in flashes, a purple piece of fruit you would one day eat, the face of your father smiling down at you, the outline of your true love. The trees spoke to us and we to them. When I awoke from my first sleep in many moons I had seen a vision of beauty, though I had not seen her face only her mane of raven coloured hair, in my heart I had felt the swelling of love. My father told me to be patient, she would find me one day. But I could not wait, some of our kind dream their love and do not find them for many centuries. With nothing but the clothes on my back I set off. I lived off the fruits of the forest, I travelled further than I had ever thought I would. It was some of the best days of my life. I met Haroun on my journey. I told him of my mission and he journeyed with me. From the outset he was a steadfast friend. After three moons, I stepped from a branch bridge onto the courtyard of Davencourt, a beautiful town, possibly the most splendid in all the forest. The minute I stepped on the flattened tree trunk, I knew in my heart I was where I needed to be. Haroun trusted my judgement, and we worked together for another two moons apprenticing to a blacksmith. If he could see us now!" Elmon had let out one of his deep and resounding laughs. "Ivran was his name, and he was a good and solid friend to two young and foolish elves. I had told him of my mission, and he gave me the same advice my Father had. Wait for your love to find you, if the Goddess had granted you a dream then she will see it come to pass. He was right, she found me right there, working the forge. Ivran's daughter, Edraele. She had been away, studying in the Palace of Dreams, as she stepped through the door and embraced her Father, I felt my heart swell in answer to the vision of her beauty. Raven dark hair falling to her waist, fierce hazel eyes within the perfect face. The happiest day of my life Evindäl, until you were born of course son!" Walking through the Forest, Evindäl imagined himself following his father's steps, feasting upon the same fruits. But his mission was different, he had found his love, had known in his heart for many years who she was and who they could be together. He was here to save her from certain death against the Svetians.

The deeper he stepped in the forest, the more sound came to life around him. When first entering Myrení, Evindäl had been overcome with a sense of loss and destruction, but all around were signs of vitality. Animals dwelled here with him, hearing them go about their business brought a sense of peace he had not known he needed. But that had all come to an end so abruptly he almost missed the change. The silence was over powering, it thudded through his mind as powerful as the spell which had overtaken him when he first entered. So lost in his own thoughts Evindäl continued walking forward, completely oblivious to the fact his branch bridge had ended. Instead, steps were built into the trunk, leading him downward. If he had not been so intent on where the animals had disappeared to so suddenly he may have noticed it. Instead, with a look of pure concentration upon his handsome face and an inquisitive glint in his eye, Evindäl took one more step, right into nothing. No branch to meet his feet, no help from his beloved forest. Nothing but emptiness.

Raken absentmindedly rubbed a thumb across the medallion which never left his neck, the image engraved upon it sacred to his people. It was the mark of the Triad, three dragons breathing fire, the fire from one grew into the tail of the next, each connected, forever entwined. It was a habit he had never been able to shift since first having the mantle of Triad placed about his neck. He could sense the end, they had made less movement into Elindor than he would have liked, but that did not matter. The defending army was crumbling; he could sense it as clearly as he felt the cold metal beneath his fingers. Soon it would be his, he would see to the end of the elven race. Just thinking of the abominations which roamed this land so freely made him sick to the stomach. There was only one race powerful enough and blessed enough to command the Fire Breathers Magic. But now he must calm himself, it would not do to go into battle with such disgust on his mind, there were to be no distractions. He was the leader of his people and he would not let them down.

"Kaine." He shouted, so suddenly the boy's feet left the floor. "Where is Dray?"

"I shall fetch him for you Master, if you would like?" He nodded his assent, watching as the boy ran from the tent. Kaine and his twin Katsa had pleased Raken since he had received them. Sometimes, when the Guardians were first taken away from their families, it could cause unrest and upset. Usually, they were happy with their lot. After all, it was the place of the Guardians to protect their Mage by tending them, they belonged to their Mage in every sense of the word. He had always been a kind Master, fair but just. He had been fortunate when he chose those two, to be selected together had only harnessed them closer to him. They were useful, the girl more so than the boy, but he liked to see Katsa smile, so kept Kaine close by. He had purchased a bottle of perfume for her, a trinket and a gesture not unusual from a Master to his Guardians, but to Katsa it could have been a gold ring. He could smell it, the faint smell of lavender. She was close by.

"Katsa!" He called out, pleased when she appeared almost instantly.

"Yes Master?" Her voice was full of her devotion for him.

"Bring me my wine. Please."

"Right away Master." The wine was an afterthought, sometimes he simply liked to look upon her beautiful face, dark brown doe eyes, and soft olive skin. He had told her to cut her hair short, to show off her face more. He still remembered how she had nearly cried that day but it truly did bring out her beauty. "Here you are Master." She returned swiftly, but as she stepped through into his sleeping chamber her foot slipped and the goblet fell from her fingers and splashed his trousers. Harsh but fair, he treated her with utmost respect, cared for her even. But sometimes, as Mage, one simply had to punish a Guardians mistakes. He smiled softly as he brought his hand around to clap her around the face.

Evindäl had never fallen before. He had always been such a careful child, intuitive and quick to react. But he was falling now. The air rushed past him so fast it deafened his ears in a roar, the ground rose to meet him at such speed he felt his stomach flip over and over. He couldn't be sure if he was screaming, but the fear that took him was unlike anything he had experienced before. To die in this manner was foolish, avoidable. Ezhra would never let him live it down.

They entered Lopal as the sun Goddess made her descent, some were fearful in the dark, when their Goddess rested herself, but Ezhra had never felt such notions. In her place, the Moon God Fealos rose, taking his turn to vigilantly watch over their people. In the distance, they could hear the faint sound of raucous laughter, merriment and brawling from a town simply known as Border and a place Ezhra had no intention of visiting. They would travel by moonlight, at the edge of the wood which crossed between Elindor and Lopal. Sleep would be had in the morning light, when she felt safe enough to stop. Her sense of foreboding had only gotten stronger the closer they were to the border, so real she could almost taste it. Every step they took, every broken twig or low neigh from a horse had her nerves scattered. Ezhra very rarely doubted herself, for she was never wrong. But at this moment, as they made their way silently through the wood which could be their salvation or their destruction, she felt doubt cling like a shadow about her heart.

He had been falling for hours, for seconds, the ground waiting to greet him with open arms, straight into death. But he was not ready to die. He had come too far for it to all end now. The thought of how Ezhra would mock him for such a foolish demise brought a sense of clarity to his screaming mind. He was an elf of the royal court, Prince Evindäl of Elindor, but more importantly, he was of this forest. He had felt the magic as it sang through the trees and through his blood, he had sensed the connection he had, felt the power within his grasp. And at that last second, when the ground was so close he could smell the dewy grass, he pulled his body into a ready stance, bending his knees on impact and allowing his hands to catch half his weight. His breathing came in short gasps, sweat poured from his skin, fear clung to him like an old friend. But he was alive, unhurt. Slowly, his head still spinning, he looked back the way he had come. The drop was at least one hundred feet. His elation at his survival was short lived, as he brought his eyes back down to the ground he saw where he now stood. White marble grave markers rose before him like white waves. So beautifully crafted they almost breathed, the markers extended throughout the clearing and beyond further than even he could see. His feet rested upon the graves of his people.

Aesa forced all of her concentration into following Ezhra, the elf's sight seemed to be nearly as good in the dark as it was in the light. The moon was small tonight, barely a sliver of light to help guide them. Ezhra's unease had rubbed off on all of them, despite Ema's exclamation of being unafraid, she sat closer to Vita than usual, her hand rested upon one of Vita's lifeless legs. Aesa regretted losing her temper with her Aunt, but when she had found Vita lay upon the ground, her life blood pumping from a horrific wound, Aesa had found herself back in Renfall with the scent of the human pyre filling her nose and the sight of Arina's doll lying next to the flames. If she were to lose Aunt Vita now, her loose grip on sanity would vanish. Aesa nearly walked her horse straight into Ezhra, who stood still, straight as a rod. The hair on the back of Aesa's neck rose as she saw Ezhra's hand go to her sword, the elf simply muttered two words. "Oh hell." Before chaos erupted.

Chapter 21

Knowing nothing he could do for the graves upon which he now desecrated, Evindäl wiped the tears from his eyes and squeezed them onto the ground at his feet.

"Know that I share in the pain of your family. You are gone but never forgotten." He whispered. The way the sun broke through the thick canopy of trees cast light across some of the statues, but as the sun descended and Fealos made his appearance, little more than a thin sliver of silver light, he saw that the way he must tread was marked for him. With that tiny sliver of light to guide him he followed it between the grave markers which stared at him with such sorrow and beauty that his heart swelled and his veins sang. He walked on and on, feeling the death all around him, the ashes of his people rested beneath the ground he walked on. How long these elves had lain here, with nobody to visit their markers, to weep over their lives cut short. The path of light ended, though he could see no end to the markers all around him. His mother had always told him that when you were lost you should sit still a while, close your eyes and feel your surroundings. Instinct would return to you. So he took her advice sitting beneath a grave marker of an elderly elf, he could see by the inscription that the elf had been Goron. He had given his life saving the children of his neighbour. But Evindäl did not need to close his eyes nor sense his surroundings. The light had failed because he was exactly where he needed to be. The marker ahead of him held the face of his Grandmother. Though cast in white marble, the face of Analee was so similar to the features of his Father that he understood why elves often remarked upon their similarities. Her hair had been long and curly, falling down her back, her face, though belonging to someone nearing two millennia, was ageless and beautiful, with the barest of lines at the corners of her eyes. Laugh lines. To know she had enjoyed life to the full brought a smile to Evindäl's lips. Where he found Analee, he knew his Grandsire would be close by. He knew little of the Mourning Sleep, but he knew enough that calling out would not be enough. It was as he stared at his Grandmothers face that it came to him, opening his eyes to his surroundings. He looked about him, at the markers which were his only friends in this desolate area. Cold, white marble, lifelike but unmoving. But here and there he saw signs that he had missed all along, the light moving of a chest, the flutter of an eyelid. Some of the statues were in fact those lost in the Mourning Sleep. The knowledge was awe inspiring. Here they lay, with their loved ones for all time. His search became frantic, Leontis must be here, must be close. Unless Evindäl had missed him as he blindly walked through the statues, some replicas of those who once dwelled this earth, others still living.

There was no time to warn the others, no time for regrets. For all that she had anticipated, Ezhra had not been prepared for the scent which assailed her nose now; appearing so suddenly that she knew magic had to be involved. The sound of steel rang through the woods as she pulled her sword from its scabbard, with her free hand she had already begun to Weave.

Looking upon the face before him was unlike anything Evindäl had ever experienced. In all of his years he had only ever looked upon his Grandsire's face in portraits, heard about it from his parents and peers. He had never imagined actually seeing it for himself, standing before the man who had changed history and saved the elven race. Evindäl found himself completely unprepared for the nerves and awe which struck him. He had been brought up around great men, elves and human alike. He had been taught by some of the most famous heroes of his age, but Leontis was a legend. As a child, they would play act the battle between the humans and the elves. Ezhra had always wanted to play Leontis but usually lost out to Ayred. Evindäl had always wanted to play the part but he had been too in love with Ezhra to ever disagree with her. The statue before him, for that is what Leontis appeared to be, was almost as white as the grave markers around him, though there was a faint sound coming from him, the stutter of his heartbeat. Evindäl had always had sharp hearing, he was after all an elf, but since the Blood Song, as he had come to think of it, his abilities in every sense of the word had heightened. Wholly unprepared and unsure of how to proceed, Evindäl went for the simplest option.

"Grandfather." He spoke quietly, keeping his voice low. Still, in the desolate silence of the graveyard his voice echoed through the trees. There was no reaction, though he had not really anticipated one. Nothing changed, the steady patter of Leontis' heart continued to beat, the only other sound was Evindäl's own voice echoing back at him. He suddenly felt so very alone.

Aesa held a long knife in one hand, her grip so tight her knuckles were white. The beasts that were attacking were unlike anything she had ever seen before, they had come from nowhere, from all angles. Their saviour had been Ezhra. Her reaction had given Aesa and Vita enough time to push Ema lower in the cart and draw their own weapons. The beast she now faced had seemed black when it had come at her, his long sabre edged teeth reaching for her throat, but at close range, she had seen it was in fact such a deep blue it appeared black. Having been close enough to it once, she planned on never repeating the experience. She had scored one point by slashing her blade across the creatures left forearm, but it barely noticed the black blood seeping from its wound. In retaliation it had swung its paws at her, the razor like claws had raked across her scalp, hair, blood and skin still clung to it. Her breath came in short bursts, her heart thudded in her chest and roared in her ears.

"Come on you beast. Come on!" She urged, holding fire in one hand and the blade in the other. But as she spoke and the sound reverberated off the trees, it hit Aesa that she was very much alone. And then the beast attacked.

Ezhra almost cried out, at the last moment she bit her tongue, to talk now could invite more of the raevers. Blood pumped from the gash in her leg, as she tried to put weight on it she felt instantly that the deadly claws had gotten through to muscle. Gritting her teeth she stared down the beast before her, looking into its eyes was like staring into deaths embrace, huge black orbs unblinking, merciless. She just hoped the others had gotten away, but in her heart she knew that was not how real life worked. Hers would not be the only injury and may not be the worst. Thinking of her friends in danger, facing these beasts she had never thought to warn them of, it was too much to bear. As her moment of panic passed, it was replaced by a steely determination. She would slay this beast and then she would save her friends. As she attacked, she saw that the beast had other plans, its huge jaw opening wide to show its lethal teeth snapping for her exposed neck.

Dew seeped through Evindäl's trousers, soaking his knees as they rested in the grass. It had been hours and yet still his Grandfather slept. He did not know how to wake him and as the night passed by, he feared he had wasted time. He should have kept looking, there must have been a clue in the library. He had been too hasty in his decision. His head dropped into his hands, fingers brushing through his hair in frustration.

"Grandfather, as a Prince of my people speaking to their former King I implore your help." He whispered, so quietly, even he barely heard the brush of his own voice. "We need you. I need you." A noise pounded through his ears, so unexpected, so loud that Evindäl fell back. It sounded as though a mountain were moving, its huge mass of rock shifting as it awoke after a millennia of sleep. The sound rose louder and louder until Evindäl had to cover his ears to stop the drums from bursting, the trees shook with the ferocity of it, some of the grave markers shifted as the ground beneath them quivered. The power that rolled through him was immense and then there, stood right before him, was King Leontis. Standing tall at his full six feet and five inches, his shoulders were broad and his frame had not dwindled in his long sleep. The only difference between this man and the one in the portraits Evindäl knew so well, were the white streaks in his hair and the fiercely angry look in his eyes.

"Who are you to rouse me from my Mourning?" The voice was as loud as the awakening had been, but Evindäl was not afraid. Standing to his own full height he looked down at his Grandfather with anger in his own eyes.

"I am of your blood. My name is Prince Evindäl of Elindor. And I have roused you as I want to know where you went with your dragon friend to the sand deserts and what that has to do with the invaders who now threaten to slaughter us all."

Aesa threw balls of concentrated flames at the beast over her shoulder, she knew to run was futile but when she had heard Ema's sharp scream pierce the night air, so had the beast. All she could think to do was distract it. Desperation and terror clung to her as she tore through the forest, the only clue that she was still being chased was the panting of the beast behind her. Aside from its breaths it made no noise, moving silently like the most terrifying of predators. She could feel why the beast worked so hard to move so quietly, it did not want to draw attention, she was its prey and it would not share. Hold on Ema, just hold on. She thought desperately, surely Ezhra would be with the child soon. All she had to do was distract this one. As though in answer to her thoughts she saw something up ahead in the darkness, moving so fast it was nearly invisible. As the beast saw what was running toward them it let out a low growl, in response the beast up ahead growled back. There was nowhere left to run, now was the time to make her stand. One deep breath to calm her nerves before she planted her feet deep into the ground to stop her in her tracks. And then they were on her.

Evindäl did not wither away from the glare Leontis gave him. He had no doubt the former King was used to getting his own way.

"I have no wish to get involved with the living. Go child, leave me to my Mourning." Leontis eventually spoke, his deep voice echoing through the trees. Naivety had meant Evindäl was not prepared for his Grandfather refusing to help. But he had come this far and would not turn back.

"I will not leave this place until I have the answers I seek. My people's lives depend on this, I will not abandon them." His words invoked a reaction from Leontis, who growled in fury. It dawned on Evindäl that his Grandfather may strike him. Usually a rational thinker, he felt his own anger rising in response. He had not come all of this way for nought. He would not allow Ezhra to be harmed because this man refused to help him. In reaction and wholly uncharacteristically, Evindäl growled back. He stood taller than his Grandfather and though many years younger, he could feel the power within him pulsing, hungering for a fight.

"I. Said. Leave!" Leontis roared, moving so fast a human would have missed it, his huge hands pushed against Evindäl's chest and sent him flying back. But the Prince was calm, he knew his own strengths and he knew the forest would provide. So as he flew backward, moving at neck breaking speed toward the thick trunks, he willed them to welcome him and they did, the bark becoming supple, soft. Enveloping him as though in an embrace. As he stepped back out of the trunk he allowed his fury take hold.

"And I said no!" He shouted. Pointing a finger he marched closer to his kin. "I am a Prince of our people, I am your Prince. If I say you are going to give me answers, then by Aodolys herself, you shall give me what I seek." They stared at each other, the pure wrath undulating through their blood spoke louder than any words could. They stood for an age, neither speaking, letting their shared blood do the talking for them. Until finally, Leontis blinked, and Evindäl sensed his Grandfathers blood cooling.

"My kin you say?" He finally asked, his voice quiet.

"My Father is King Elmon, my mother Queen Edraele."

"Are there more of you?"

"I have a sister, if that is what you mean. Princess Faelyn." Something in Leontis' eyes cracked, tears welled where once there had been only rage and he nodded once at his grandson.

Ezhra clenched her fist tighter around the concentrated air she was Weaving. The raevers were so damn fast. As fast as an elf, which meant she had little help there. She had to slow them down, drawing on her memory of the fight with Zodak she imitated the spell he had used against her Weaving air and water together, air was powerful and water was supple. Entwining the two together she Weaved a whip. With more practice she intended to also add in fire, but right now there was no time for mistakes. Drawing her arm back with all of her force, she flicked her hand forward, her whip wrapping itself around the beast's throat, drawing tighter with every pull of her hand. As it fell to the floor, flailing as helplessly as a fish out of water Ezhra allowed a sinister grin onto her face. The beasts did not kill for food; they had never been known to consume human or elven flesh. They hunted for pleasure. So it was with her own pleasure that Ezhra pulled her sword up and down in a silvery flash of rage, decapitating the head from the body, black blood spewed to the floor, covering her boots. She was lucky the beast was not a Prince, if it had been the poisonous blood would have seeped through the leather and started eating at her flesh. Calming her breathing so that she could hear the forest beyond the pounding of her own heart, Ezhra tried to sense where the others were. Coiling the whip around her wrist and wiping the blood from her blade, Ezhra set off at a sprint.

Vita stared into the hungry eyes of a beast so large she could barely see past it. Its growl was low, quiet and all the more sinister for it. At the base of the cart lay three bodies of fallen animals. Their bodies black and burnt, the smell of singed flesh filled her nostrils and brought a wave of painful memories. Ema screamed behind her, her head peeking up out of her hiding place.

"Quiet child! Get back down." She whispered frantically, knowing that it was too late. The black orbs which were the beasts eyes stared at the child, its gaping mouth spread into what looked like a smile. Flames, so bright they left spots in Vita's eyes, sprouted before her, acting as a wall between them and the beast. But it continued its prowl, slowly but surely, as though knowing the flames would do nothing. Her eyes were too focused on her impending death, her attention fixated on the immediate threat to notice the shadows which now stalked closer from behind the trees.

Leontis' hands reached out toward Evindäl's face, slowly, as if unsure how the Prince may react. As his Grandfather had calmed down, so had Evindäl. It was with an emotional heart that he felt his Grandfather touching his face for the first time, tentatively at first and then with more vigour.

"I never thought, never dreamt I would one day stand before you. You look so much like them, your parents. I can see your father in your hair, your mother in your eyes. It brightens my heart to see them in you."

"Faelyn looks just like Mother." Evindäl responded, unsure of what else to say. A smile touched Leontis' lips.

"It warms my heart to see you, yet it saddens me that you come in time of war."

"There is much to discuss. I wish we had more time, but I came here for a purpose and we must make haste." His words roused a chuckle for his Grandfather.

"Oh yes, so like your Father. Even when we had all the time in the world he was curious, with little patience."

"Patience is a luxury. What I need now are answers." It was not exactly how he had imagined reuniting with his Grandfather, but there was nothing for it. He needed help and he needed it yesterday.

Aesa moved quicker than she had ever thought possible, whipping one hand up to gut the beast as it lunged for her throat, with the other she flung out fire in a desperate attempt to stop the attack from both angles. Buy herself a little time to finish one fight before the other began. But as the warm black blood and guts spilled over her fist and arm she felt the excruciating pain in her shoulder as the second animals teeth found their mark, sinking deep within her skin and muscle. The dying howl of the first beast entangled together with her own screams of pain pierced through the night sky and fed her terror.

Ezhra had travelled far in her fight with the raevers. Terror was her ally as she raced through the forest noiselessly, her hair streaming out behind her like a flag. Aesa's scream pierced through the sky, leaving a hole in Ezhra's heart. It felt like a lifetime, but she followed the noise and was beside Aesa in barely seconds. Her friend lay upon the ground, her blood spewing from the horrendous hole in her shoulder so deep that Ezhra wondered if the arm was about to fall off. Beside Aesa were two of the beasts, both dead. One's blood feeding the ground, the other's burnt corpse crumbling into dust. Aesa's breaths came in short gasps, still conscious her eyes roamed about.

"Ezhra? Is that you?" She whispered. Ezhra was next to her in a blink, taking her uninjured hand in one of her own.

"I am here my friend."

"It hurts. It hurts so bad." The blood was everywhere, Ezhra could see the white shine of bone showing through the wound. Tears prickled her own eyes, helplessness settled over her heart like a shadow.

"Do not fear Aesa, Vita will be able to heal you." Anger at her own stupidity for not learning more on Healing gripped her. She was talented, one of the most powerful Weavers in Elindor and yet she could think of no way to help her friend. She always seemed to have had more of an affinity for hurting than healing.

"Aunt Vita, I heard Ema." Aesa's voice was so quiet even Ezhra barely heard her. "Screaming."

"I must go to them."

"Bring me Ezhra, I can still help." The icy glint had returned to Aesa's blue eyes. There was no time for doubts. Ezhra cut part of her coat away and made a quick sling, as she moved the arm Aesa let out another cry of pain, tears poured down her cheeks freely. The shoulder itself barely held on, Ezhra doubted they would be able to save it. Picking Aesa up was easy, the woman was small and slight, setting of at a sprint she ran faster than any horse she had seen, straight to the sounds of screaming.

Chapter 22

Faelyn brushed the tear from her eye, she must not let her emotions show, Mother always reminded her to act with utmost decorum, she would not let her down today. Taking one last look at the room she had called home for nearly eighty years, she left. They would all be waiting for her in the courtyard. Her Mother was to travel with her, for the first time since elves ascended the Elindor throne the Palace would be left with a steward in charge, in this case it would be Rhaenion. She had said her goodbyes to Rhaenion in private. They were as close as family and whilst she knew they would meet again, the thought of not living so close to Ezhra's mother was difficult to bear. Faelyn was excited to wed, she had met Jaxon, her betrothed. He was a kind and gentle man; handsome both inside and out. But to think that she would be living with him back on the Isle of Camda, that truly terrified her. So used to seeing Edraele every day, to lunching with the Lady Rhaenion, riding with the stable boy Hans, cooking with the chef Mildred. All of that was coming to an end. Today she was travelling with the guarded escort her Father had sent, she was riding to war. But unlike her friend Ezhra, she was not riding to help this battle with her sword, she would do so with her hand. Marrying one of the Councilmen from the Isle of Camda cemented the allies in the war closer together. She was truly fortunate, Camda had at first been reluctant to come to the aide of Elindor, separated by an expanse of water they were unsure whether they would ever feel the sword of the Svetians. But the ideology of the mad men invading her country was such that no place was safe. In short, her father had sold her hand in marriage for the right to command the Camdan army. The hidden blessing had been that he had specified that he would choose the council member to whom she would wed. Old men all, she had not been thrilled with the prospect, but when one of the men had been killed in combat, Jaxon had been voted his predecessor. Quicker than she would have thought possible the deal had been struck and she had been informed of her betrothal. The walk out of the palace took longer than necessary but she wanted to savour every sight, smell and sound, for who knew when she would return here?

"Ready my darling?" Her Mother asked as she stepped out into the light of the rising sun.

"As I'll ever be." She replied quietly. Lady Rhaenion stood beside the Queen, both so regal in stature that Faelyn doubted she could ever match them. She smiled warmly at her Mother's closest friend. "I will miss you." She spoke softly, fearing her words would unlock the doors to her tears once more.

"And I you. But we shall see each other soon Princess. That I promise you." Rhaenion was not one to make vows she could not keep. Her words soothed Faelyn's beating heart.

"Please make sure the place doesn't burn down whilst I am gone old friend." Edraele added, a soft smile upon her lips.

"Do not fear, my Elion is not here to wreak havoc so I am sure we will be fine." They all laughed, not a strained laugh but a true one. It was a fitting way to say goodbye to their old lives together. To say farewell in the way they had lived.

"Shall we ride Mother?"

"Yes, we shall dear one." The Queen descended the rest of the stairs, her steps measured precise and smooth. Walking behind her, even now, Faelyn couldn't help but question her own grace. Without ceremony or pomp Edraele was atop her horse in a fluid movement human women and many elven would envy. Edraele looked around at her people, those who served her and did so well. Her piercing stare caused any chatter to cease instantly. If there was one word for the feelings of the people congregated for Edraele, it could only be love. "My good people, my friends. I shall return to you within two moons. Until that time, I leave the Lady Rhaenion to run and rule as I would. Treat her in my absence as you would treat me." There was silence all around, nobody would dare challenge Rhaenion, she was as loved as the Queen herself. As one, the people all around them knelt on one knee, even the elderly and raised two fists to cross over the chests in salute. Faelyn could think of nothing to say, it was her brother who had been raised for leadership. Rather than making her last moments in the Crystal Palace a mockery, she simply climbed atop her own horse and nodded to those before her. The Princess could not know, not without the remarkable gifts of her good friend Ezhra, that those around her loved her dearly and she would be sorely missed. As her unique and beautiful smile passed over them all they wept in joy for her upcoming wedding and in sadness for their own loss.

Evindäl was captivated, the unblinking stare of his Grandfather was terrifying in its power and beautiful in its compassion. The sorrow he saw etched in the lines upon his face spoke of his love for his wife and for his shame of the past with which he now must relive. In that moment, as a shadow passed over the older elves eyes, Evindäl wished for nothing more than to stop the words which would flow from Leontis' mouth, for they both knew that what would come next would alter their young relationship forever.

"The enemy of which you speak are not unknown to me. The words I shall now weave have been a guarded secret amongst few of our race for nearly two thousand years. And in truth, it shames me to speak them now before you son of my son." A deep sigh escaped from Leontis, but as it left his lips as soft as a gentle breeze through the trees, so too did his reluctance to speak. He had brought this atrocity to the world of his descendants, it was only right that he witnessed the consequences of his own failings. "Tell me Evindäl, what do you know of the union between an elf and a human?"

Ezhra lay Aesa upon the ground as gently as she could. Even the slight movement brought a grimace of pain from her friend.

"They are near my friend, be wary whilst I am away. Keep your flames kindled." She received a simple nod before Aesa pushed her away with her good arm.

"Go friend. Save them." Ezhra stepped away silently, her footsteps so light none could have felt her coming wrath. The raevers surrounded the cart, with Vita still trying to ward them off with her fire, Ema crouched behind her terror filling her young eyes, but with the fear there was also a glint of steely determination. But it was the others in the vision before her which caught her attention. Six men stood behind the beasts, their evil grins confident. Somehow, these men commanded the beasts. A shudder rippled through her body at the thought. They must command the Ability, but how powerful they were she could not know. Tapping into her gifts as an Empath was not hard, all she need do was release her hold. The power itself lay awake, always coiled within her, ready to be welcomed out into the open air. As Ezhra released her Ability, the invisible gift reaching out like tendrils to the minds of those before her, she used her eyes and ears to formulate a plan of attack. Trusting in her own Abilities, she knew she could take the men easily, but in those moments it took her to slaughter them, the raevers would be upon her friends. As her Ability touched the mind of the man stalking slowly toward Vita, she almost reared back in disgust. Not only was he enjoying the spectacle, hearing the screams from the child and seeing the panic within the woman's eyes, he was watching the events with a particularly sadistic enjoyment which sent a shot of fear into her heart for Ema. It took all of her willpower to stop herself from killing the man where he stood. Surprise was her ally; she could not waste her upper hand. But as she watched and waited, the huge beast prowling closer to Vita, the man stepped out of the shadows and into the flickering light of Vita's flames. He released a long low laugh and Ezhra began to uncoil her whip.

Evindäl subconsciously leaned closer to Leontis, despite his concerns for what was to come, he was desperate to not miss one word.

"Long before I met my beloved Analee, myself and two of my long-time friends decided we wanted to explore the world. We had not received much in the way of Dreams and we were so young and curious about the world beyond our forest. In truth, we were fools. It was not unheard of for elves to travel beyond Myrení, but it was also not fully accepted. My parents were upset, humans could be a cruel race, jealous of the immortality we held. But nothing could stop me, not once I made my mind up. So, together the three of us set off on a journey the likes of which we could never have imagined. We travelled far, to the southern reaches of Lopal, to the great cliffs on the Isle of Camda, saw so many beautiful and awing sights. Of course, like all elves who venture away from home, we became homesick. Our hearts mourned what our minds could not comprehend. The magic in our veins missed the trees of our forefathers and without fully realising it we were closed off from the Blood Song of our people. If we had only listened to the powers within ourselves, everything would be different." He took a deep sigh, the noise so heavy with regret Evindäl reached out placing a comforting hand upon his Grandfathers strong forearm.

"We are kin Grandfather, do not fear my reaction for what you are about to tell me. What is done is in the past, now all we can do is look to the future." Leontis nodded slightly, though his eyes remained downcast, ashamed to look in the eyes of his grandson as he spoke of how his actions doomed the race of elves.

Vita heard the laughter before she saw the man who bore it, it rang out with such confidence and malice that a shiver ran down her spine and her resolve threatened to abandon her. He materialised from the trees a sadistic grin plastered across his greasy face his huge hands began to clap slowly, applauding what, she did not know. His greasy hair hung around his face she could almost imagine the lice crawling between the locks.

"Well my little witch. You have displayed, fire I give you that." He laughed at his own witty joke and the others joined in. She did not want to take her eyes off him, afraid of what he may do when her attention was averted, but she needed to know how trapped they were. One glance was all it took for her to realise that she would not win this fight. He knew it as well as she, but there was no harm in trying.

"If you let my child go I will come peacefully." She stated, drawing on her years as a respected Healer to force a commanding tone into her voice. He cocked his head to the side, the grin fixed firmly upon his dirty face.

"Is that so? And what happens if I say no?" In answer to his question she poured more love for the child beside her into the flames before her, coaxing them to greater heights, the burning inferno so fierce Ema had to shield her eyes.

"Then most of you shall die." She shouted over the roar of her flames. The man had reached the beast, but rather than fear it, he laid one of his large hands atop the fur stroking it as though it were a pet.

"Do you know what this is dear lady? This is a Prince of its kind. It is under my control, so the rest of its clan are also held in my grasp. At the simple click of my fingers" He held one hand up, his fingers poised to click "It will leap through your conjured flames and rip you limb from limb. Sure, you will no doubt inflict harm upon him, but he barely feels anything but the deepest of blows. As he feasts upon your flesh, you may get to plunge a dagger in his skin, but as his putrid blood flows from the wound it will burn through your skin so fast you will beg me to end your suffering quickly. That is your fate. All you can do now is hope to save the child." His dark words were ringed with truth, she knew it. Her only hope now was for Ezhra and Aesa to come to their aid, but she had heard nor seen any sign of them since the scream which had echoed through the forest.

"How can I do so?" She asked, her heart heavy. Ema was family, she must do what she could to protect her, even if that was by giving her own life.

"Well, you must hand her to my man over there. We will see that she is, safe." His smile never left his face, his words dripped with contempt. But she could really see no other option.

"And you promise she will live?"

"I will raise her myself. I promise you that."

"Will you give me a moment to say goodbye?" Vita asked, her throat now burning with tears she would not shed before this man. He nodded his assent, signalling for one of his men to step forward.

Ezhra watched on in horror as Vita made a deal with the man before her. She had seen the look of desperation in Vita's eyes, one last glance for a miracle. But Ezhra knew to move now would be fatal for them all, she needed to wait just a moment longer. Make him think he had won.

"Aunt Vita please, I don't want to go with him." Ema's soft voice spoke quietly, her words meant only for Vita, but Ezhra heard them easily enough.

"I know child. I am truly sorry I could not protect you. But this is the only way I can ensure your safety. You must go with them. But please remember how much I love you, how Aesa and Ezhra love you. As you grow remember us, your Ma and Pa, brother and sister. Your memories will be your guiding light and your friend. One day you will be free of him, I know it child." They embraced fiercely before a tree of a man stepped forward and grabbed Ema with one of his thick arms. Vita looked deep into Ema's eyes as she was pulled away, in that moment Ezhra was reminded once again of the resilience of these women. Vita's head turned slowly back to the man with the greasy hair. Her blue eyes were so cold and angry that even Ezhra paused. "You made a promise to me. And even when I am in the realm of the dead, if you do not keep your vow I will bring vengeance to your door."

"You have nothing to worry about for the girl, she will be well looked after in one of my houses. Just a few more years and there will be lots of men who will look after her. Who will pay to look after her." Realisation dawned on Vita, as her icy glare turned liquid, tears filling her eyes at the fate the child had just been dealt. But Ezhra was done waiting, was done hiding within the trees, within herself. With a flick of her wrist the whip cracked like lightning and Ezhra unleashed herself.

Chapter 23

Evindäl would not allow himself to look away as his Grandfather took up his story once more, though their eyes did not meet, he kept his own fixed upon Leontis' face. The soft melancholy voice of his Grandfather washed over him, so rich and powerful it swept him away, taking the Prince along on the journey as though they walked as one, all of those millennia ago. Together, they stepped to the edge of a cliff looking out onto the sea beyond.

"It is so beautiful." Gadriel whispered, staring out at the still crystal blue water before them.

"The Goddess must shine upon our journey, to have brought us to such a place." Maion said, he always had been the most pious amongst them. Leontis remained quiet. Content with the view and the company of his friends. In a distant place, a young elven prince wondered what had become of Gadriel and Maion, but in this time, in this place, there was only Leontis and his companions.

"Amongst the humans, it is said that to jump from this point is to feel truly alive." Gadriel said, leaning out over the hundred foot drop. They all followed suit, Maion looked back hesitantly.

"No human could make that jump!" He exclaimed.

"And how would you know stranger?" A soft, angelic voice rang out from behind them. Three human girls were walking up the incline. "Have you ever seen a human make such a leap?" No doubt sisters, the three boldly walked right up to the elves. Their blonde curls shone in the sun, their eyes clear and bright like the sea. Leontis felt his voice catch in his throat at the beauty of them.

"Well no! But it is too far." The girl who had first spoken looked past Maion to Leontis, staring deep into his eyes with a confident look. And then all three of them jumped. Their bodies growing smaller as they plummeted to the sea below.

"NO!" Leontis felt himself screaming, moving to leap after them, until he heard their bodies crash into the water followed quickly by their delighted giggles.

"Come on down! It's nice and warm!" They cooed. Evindäl felt his stomach fly into his mouth as his Grandfather pulled him into the jump, it was as though he had fallen from his branch bridge once again but this time, rather than being embraced by the soft grass below, the warmth of the sea encased him. Leontis came up for air, looking about him to calm his heart that the girls were unhurt. The leader was beside him, smiling shyly but with a confident glint in her beautiful eyes.

"My name is Iris." She said as she swam closer, their noses almost touching.

"Leontis." He whispered back, his heart thumping with adrenaline and excitement, his head full of the sight of her. Evindäl was swept away, his Grandfather moving on to the next stage of his tale. Time had passed, possibly a year by the look of Iris now entering womanhood. She was truly breathtaking. The two sat hand in hand looking out from the cliff where they had first met. Their legs swinging out into the open air.

"When I left home, I went in search of adventure. I never imagined I would meet someone like you." Evindäl felt his hand constrict as Leontis squeezed Iris' hand warmly. She leaned her head against his shoulder, her blond curls tickling his back.

"I always dreamed of leaving this place, going in search of something. I never knew what. Until I met you. I would have travelled to the ends of the world in search, but you found me."

"Iris, I love you." Leontis breathed his heart thundering against his chest, fearing her reaction. He hoped against hope she would reciprocate, but instead she shook her head sadly.

"And I love you. But I am afraid."

"Of what my love, I would never hurt you." She laughed softly, looking up at him.

"I know that, I trust you implicitly. It is neither your strength nor your magic I fear, it is my own mortality. Maybe not now, but one day it shall come between us as strong as if we lived worlds apart." Fear and pain gripped Evindäl's heart through his link with Leontis.

"No. Never. I shall not allow this to happen. I would give up my immortality for you Iris. If there were a way, please believe me I would." She kissed him deeply, passionately, in another time Evindäl felt his cheeks blush.

"If only I had been born within your forests, of your race. We could live together forever." She whispered breathlessly when she pulled away. Evindäl was caught within his Grandfather's thoughts, his emotions, but at her words he felt a deep seated fear spark which he knew came from his own instincts and not those of Leontis.

"I am afraid there is no way my love. I can only offer my love eternally." He thought he could see something within those deep blue eyes, but in a flash it was gone and she smiled softly, her full red lips forming a slight pout. "Marry me Iris." Leontis whispered, his eyes never leaving her face. As she nodded that she would, Evindäl once again felt the dizzying feeling of his Grandfather pulling him away to another time. Iris stood distant from Leontis her hair longer and shone even brighter in the sun, her belly swollen with child. Maion and Gadriel sat with Leontis, fear in their eyes.

"We do not know what the child will be." Maion spoke quietly, not wanting his words to wash over Iris. "We know that you love her, but this is an entirely unprecedented event." Leontis looked upon his wife with a mixture of sorrow and love.

"I know friends. You are right to fear. But listen, closely to the beat of the child's heart." They did so, together and as realisation dawned on those with him Leontis nodded his head. "Two heartbeats, twins. Nearly unheard of in the Forest. Perhaps they shall be elves, they will be welcomed in our home with open arms."

"Or perhaps not. They could be human, they could be half breeds. There is no way for us to know." Gadriel muttered, looking imploringly at his oldest friend.

"And what is it that you ask of me? To kill them when they are still in her womb? You both know I could never do such a thing. When I have lain with my wife, I have Weaved the appropriate spell to ensure no child would come of the union, and yet here we are. With two children growing within her."

"There is more." Maion said, his eyes filled with his own heart ache. "Ivy, she too is with child." Surprise filled Leontis, as he was the only one to have wed. "Do not look at me like this. I am so ashamed. It was one time, in truth I don't remember much of the evening, I thought I too had used the spells but it appears they work less well than we thought."

"And you Gadriel? Is Lily too pregnant?" They both looked at him, his brown eyes refusing to meet their own, his own shame rooted within.

"No. There is no child within her, but I have lain with Lily, an act which has left me ashamed of my own weakness."

"Aodolys what are we to do?" Leontis implored, looking up at the full and bright sun. "I cannot bring harm to neither Iris nor the children for no good cause."

"Then we journey back to the forest, we Dream and hope for a glimpse of their future." Gadriel offered, his voice rising in hope of their answer. To think of leaving their home behind hung heavy in Leontis' heart, yet he knew he must take whatever chance he could to discover the fate of their future.

"You are right. The Goddess may give us answer there. But how do we leave?"

"Only one us may go, for all three of us to leave now would invite suspicion even from those who now call us family."

"You are right Maion. The strongest of us in Ability must make the journey." Leontis knew where the conversation was headed and as he looked out at Iris picking flowers in the garden they had made their own, he almost wept at the thought of leaving her. "Leontis. Old friend. It must be you who makes the journey." As Leontis nodded, a sense of movement settled over Evindäl as he felt them shift once more. Leontis was making his way out the door, tears in his eyes as he tried to leave without saying goodbye.

"Husband. Where are you going?" Iris asked softly behind him, as he turned his breath was caught in his throat at her utter beauty, tousled blonde hair loose from its usual braid cascaded over her shoulder, tickling the swelling bump which housed their children. "And why do you take your pack?" She placed her hands protectively over the bump.

"I am sorry Iris, for leaving like this. I shall be back but saying goodbye, I thought it would be too hard."

"Goodbye? Where are you going?"

"I must journey back to my home, there are questions I need answering and I hope that the Goddess will grant me visions." He saw in her eyes that she had expected something of this sort.

"I told my father you would not accept a child. I begged him Leontis I swear it."

"What are you talking about my love?" His unease grew as she turned her back to him, ashamed to look upon his face.

"My Father covets the power which you hold. He thought that we could persuade you to present immortality, as though a gift. When that failed, he wanted us to lie with you. I swear to you, I fell in love with you, I would never have wed you otherwise. But when asked why I was not yet with child, I told him of the strange words you utter, he had a witch woman give me a counter to it. He hopes that the child will have some magical ability to provide immortality, or that once it is born you will rethink your earlier sentiments and bestow upon us our own long lives." His heart turned to ice at her words, shattering into a thousand pieces. "Please, believe me. I love you."

"And the others? Your sisters?"

"My father got your friends drunk and then sent my sisters in to seduce them. We are little more than cattle to him."

"Do you know what you have done?" He whispered, his words harsh and cold as he stepped toward her. "Do you have any idea the powers an elf can withhold? There is a reason why the Goddess granted us as her favourites, we are kind, unselfish and warm. There is no treachery in our Forest, no hatred. We work together, as a unit, we sing together our hearts joined as one. She may allow humans to Weave, to hold the Ability, but what we possess is so much more, because we use it for good. Can you imagine a child born of human blood containing that much power? Imagine a child raised by a man such as your father who used his own daughters as nothing more than pawns to get what he wanted. This is not a question of immortality; this is a question of life as you know it in Elindor ceasing to exist. When those babes are grown they will wreak havoc the likes of which you will never fully prepare for." He pulled at his own hair in sheer frustration for his stupid actions, letting out a scream of frustration. "Your petty games with my heart have doomed this world. I know now why my parents were loath to see me go, the world outside our Forest is corrupt and full of hatred." Iris was crying, her hands gripping at the stomach which held her beloved child.

"Babes?" She whispered through her tears.

"Twins you bear wife. Twins to bring death and destruction to those all around. There is no gift of immortality, the only one who could ever bestow such a thing is the Goddess. She gave that gift unto us to protect. I have squandered it. I have betrayed her trust in our people." As he spoke, visions came to him in flashes, and both he and the elven prince listening in, knew them to be Dreams from Aodolys herself. They saw a world gone mad, of children growing up to think themselves better than all who were different. They controlled a magic unlike the gifts bestowed upon Aodolys' children. As the children grew and gave birth to more, they were all of the same kind, they swept across Elindor in fire and plunder. "I see it so clearly. They are born part mad, unsure of their place in the world. Always seeking it, they believe themselves blessed, favoured by the Goddess. They seek to destroy any with magic, any but they. Those who can Weave are slaughtered, those who cannot are forced into a lifetime of slavery which will last for thousands of years." As the fires reached out for the trees of their home Leontis and Evindäl both cried out in anguish. "The elves, the Forest. They will destroy it all." He opened his eyes once more, to look upon his wife's terrified face.

"No. You are wrong." She whispered, though the fear in her eyes told a different tale. She had felt the presence of the Goddess as Leontis had witnessed his visions.

"I am truly sorry for the sickness within your Father which has brought you to this place. And though my heart is breaking at what I must do, my hand shall be steady as I stop these children from cursing our land."

"NO!" She screamed, reaching for a kitchen knife in an attempt to protect them. Evindäl did not want to look, but as long as Leontis' eyes were open, so were his. "Please Leontis, I shall do anything! I will run away, take them far away from these lands. Please you are their father! You cannot condemn them before they have a chance to grow." Her face was a mask of determination and abject terror and her words stirred something deep within Leontis.

"And what of your father? You think he will just allow us to walk out of here with his three children and his hopes for an eternal life?" She shook her head furiously, as though trying to dispel the thought of her husband killing their children. Evindäl was young in elven terms, but he had seen enough to know that a mother would do anything for her child.

"No. He would not. But I will stop him. Leontis. If you give us this chance to save our children, I will kill him." They moved away once more, though the pain still clung to Leontis and Evindäl's hearts fiercely. He watched from Leontis' eyes as Iris and her two sisters smiled sweetly at their father over dinner. The only other people present were some guards, their young cousin Kavi, Maion and Gadriel. Ivy and Lily focused on the meal before them, though each kept one hand steadily upon their small bellies. Iris had suggested the meal as a celebration of the upcoming wedding of Maion and Gadriel to Ivy and Lily. Gadriel knew now, that Lily was pregnant also. Leontis could see, now his eyes had been opened, the greedy glint in Sachi's eyes as he smiled at his new son in laws.

"More wine father?" Iris asked sweetly, rising from her place at the table to fill her father's goblet. He nodded without taking his eyes off the plate of food. "Father, Leontis and I were thinking. We would like to travel back to his home for the birth of the child, it would be a fantastic place for him or her to grow up don't you think?" They had agreed she would be given one chance to offer her father his own salvation.

"Don't be so ridiculous girl. You will stay here. With me."

"As you wish father." She spoke quietly, allowing the dagger she had concealed in her sleeve to slide out into her waiting hand. Leontis knew she was willing to do this atrocity so as to save her children, but he could also see the pain in her eyes and could not bear to allow her carry this guilt.

"It was not a question sir. Nor was it a suggestion." He said loudly, staring deep into the eyes of the man he had thought of like a second father to him. Outrage turned Sachi's face a strange shade of purple as he struggled to find the words. But before he could say anything, Leontis had sprung from his chair and leapt across the table, pulling his own dagger from his waist he brought the blade up in one fluid movement slitting the man's throat without ceremony nor remorse. Kavi began screaming as blood spurted from the wound and into the young boy's dinner, his screaming drowned out the noise of the guards moving into action but Leontis and his friends were ready. The battle was fierce but short. The guards dead within minutes, their only casualty was Maion who had taken a sword to his thigh, opening it to the bone. Deep sorrow touched Evindäl's heart as he watched the quick death, the poison upon the blade rapidly turning the skin black, congealing the blood as it tried to pump through Maion's veins, his heart stopped beating within a minute.

"May the Goddess forgive me for my sins." Where his last whispered words in the living world.

Chapter 24

Ema couldn't help but cry as the man dragged her away from Aunt Vita. For so long she had forced her tears away, never accepting them, never allowing them to come. If she were to start crying, surely she would never stop. Surely she would drown in her own sorrow. Now with the stink of him in her nostrils and his rough nails digging into skin they flowed freely over her cheeks. With all of her strength she clutched Molly tightly in one hand. There was little to be confused about after Aunt Vita's words, but doubt clung to her. Surely Aunt Aesa and Ezhra would be here any moment, they would save the day. As he pulled her further and further away from the cart, his stench making her gag over her tears, Ema thought of her family. How much she missed them, what they would think if they could see her now. Ma would not want her to go with this man without a fight. She would want her to cling on to her life, to her friends, with everything she had. The vision and memory of her mother were so strong that as the shadow materialised from behind the thick trees, she could have sworn it was her mother's spirit. The red orange light from Vita's gifts reflected from the apparitions hair, limbs stretched out as quick and lithe as a panther, death itself had come to these men, Ema thought gruesomely as she watched three men be decapitated within moments of each other's, their crimson blood flying across the path in a spray of sickening violence.

Ezhra moved so quickly the men before her had no time to react, two lay dead on the ground before her whip had even founds its mark, as the woven whip wrapped around the leaders thick neck, the sound cracking through the still air, another head rolled to his feet. With one pull of her wrist the man at the end went sprawling through the air to land before her.

"Call off your men and raevers and I shall spare your pathetic life." She spoke quietly, her voice full of threat and venom, her sword steady against his neck. But thugs such as these never believed they could be bested, especially not by women.

"You are alone. Your other friend is dead no doubt. If you do not free me, I will order my Prince to tear the old lady limb from limb and my men to slit the girls throat." He smiled up at her, blood dribbling down his chin from hitting the ground too hard. She shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly.

"I guess you leave me no choice." His smile widened. But it was her who would have the last laugh. As quick as a flash, Ezhra brought her blade down, burying the sword into the man's neck, his blood poured over her boots, the gurgling sound of him drowning in his own blood received no sympathy from her. As though unleashed, the beast who had been growling at Vita pounced, flames flared and howls of pain and screams of anger filled the forest. But Ezhra had to deal with the men first.

"Vita don't let its blood touch you!" She screamed out, before beginning her rounds. In one glance she could see there were still eight men, one holding Ema like a life line. The time for discussion was over. Wiping the blade of her sword on her leggings, she made her first move.

Ema watched in horror and fascination as Ezhra moved through the men. Three men moved for her at once, but she easily deflected their blows, despite their superior numbers it took only three clashes of the blades before Ezhra was attacking and they were each defending. She spun and ducked, jumping over flying blades, lashing out with her own weapon, each one of her blows met its mark, cutting deeper and deeper. More came to join the fight, leaving only Ema and her guard, who seemed as mesmerised by the battle as she was. Two men went down, one screaming out in pain as blood spurted from his missing arm, the other stared right at Ema with dead eyes, his vision blind to this world. Ezhra herself was soon lost amidst the fight, save for flashes of her braid flicking around and blood flying from an opponent who got too close. Two more down, both dead. As one man lunged for Ezhra from behind and the other went for her front at the same moment, she pushed her sword through the front man's chest, leaning toward him, allowing the blade to dig deeper into his flesh, as she leaned forward she pushed her leg out, pushing herself back off the man dying before her, using the momentum to kick with such power that the man behind her fell back screeching, his chest caved in, his ribs cracked. The last man stared at Ezhra, staying back now wary of her prowess as a swordsman. They circled each other, craving for the fight, Ema could see in Ezhra's eyes how she hungered for the blood of this man. As soon as he was dead only the one with Ema would be left, he could use her against the others, Vita may not have much time left before that animal finally got through her fire. It's howls rang in her head like a bell. She had to do something to help. Tearing her eyes from the scenes before her, she glanced down, slowly so as not to draw attention. In the top of her captors boot she could see the handle of a knife. If only she could reach it without him seeing. If she were as fast as Ezhra she would have a chance, the elf moved so quickly Ema almost couldn't keep up with her. The clash of steel against steel meant they had re-joined the fight. It was now or never.

"There is so much blood." She cried out, hoping he could hear her over the din.

"You scared girly? You should be, you'll be seeing a lot more in a moment if your friends don't play nice with me." Taking a deep breath, Ema swooned and fell forward, the only thing stopping her from flattening her face was his grip upon her hair, that hurt like hell. "Get up you stupid girl." He shook her roughly, so hard her head felt like it may fall from her neck, she saw a glint of silver as he put his knife before her face, reminding her of his power. She swooned once more, ignoring the searing pain in her scalp as he pulled out some of her hair. Pushing his face right up to hers her sneered, spittle landed on her face and she almost threw up. "I said stand up straight." He exclaimed. He could not have seen his end coming, could not have guessed that the little runt of a girl barely reaching his hips would be able to do it. But she did. She had grabbed his own knife from his boot and as he shouted in her face, she brought it up so quick he barely registered the flash of silver before she buried it right up to the hilt in his chest, right over his heart. The sound of his body dropping to the floor coincided with the head falling from the shoulders of the man Ezhra had been fighting.

Ezhra barely registered her own kill as she saw Ema plunge the knife into her captor's heart. She wanted to rush to the girl, but could see Vita had little time before the raever she battled would be upon her, so instead she motioned with her hand for Ema to move back behind the trees. Ezhra did not move, did not breathe for fear she would alert it to her attention. Vita's eyes met hers over its shoulders, the moments distraction was all it took for it to leap past her flames and open its mouth wide to kill. One hand movement was all Ezhra spared, hoping Vita got the message. Luckily, she did. As its gaping jaw went for her throat, Vita wrapped her flames around the beast, ensnaring it in red hot fire, howling it still went for Vita, but Ezhra was faster still. As soon as the flames engulfed its fur, she wrapped it in a case of air, stopping it mid-air. Within the air pocket the flames continued to burn away at its flesh. Its screams bounced around the trees, now the only sounds in the night, smell of burning flesh overpowered all else as it quickly cooked, frozen in place. Ezhra kept her hands steady as the beast fought against her, desperately seeking a way out of its prison. But there was only one way out now. Death.

Aesa heard the blood curdling screams as they rebounded through the forest. She wanted so badly to follow them, to try and help her family, but as she had moved through the forest, blood loss had been too much for her body to bare and she had fainted, waking up to these screams. What if it was Aunt Vita? Or Ema? She had seen Ezhra fight, but even someone as powerful as she could be over run. The agony in her arm was nothing compared to that in her heart as she listened to the sounds around her, desperately trying to hear any signs that her family were ok. Even as she listened, Aesa knew that the only thing she could make out over the pounding in her own ears, was the screeching. And so it was with the horrific sounds filling her ears that she once again drifted off into oblivion.

Evindäl was flying, it was the most exhilarating feeling in the world. Air rushed through his hair, and his eyes were filled with such beautiful sights he never wanted this experience to end. Leontis shared in his joy, though his heart was still filled with sorrow for his fallen friend. Dragons. As their minds were touched, Leontis felt Evindäl's own sadness that the magnificent creatures were now extinct and they shared in grief. The plush green lands of Elindor were far behind them, they had journeyed East and then South, over deserts which went on for weeks with no sign of water or shelter from the brutal sun. In places, there were signs of life and so on they travelled. Leontis held one of the large curling spikes upon the dragons back and Evindäl marvelled at the feel of the scales.

"Euril my friend. We must rest soon." Leontis called over the roar of the wind. Behind him, Iris nodded against his back. With two babes growing within her, she had not taken to flying, she clung to Leontis, never moving her head from his back. The descent was slow and steady and just as joyful as the flight itself. Euril was not the only dragon, beside him was his mate, the great and beautiful creature, Enka, her dark blue scales shone in the waning light, and their young one, Ator , too small to carry anyone, they would not leave him behind when agreeing to come on this quest. As they all stood on firm ground once more, Iris placed a shaky hand over her bump. Though only here for the latter part of the journey, Evindäl sensed the feelings his Grandfather had for the lady, and whilst love still shone deep within him, there was also a great sadness, a distance between them. Even so, his concern for the woman he had once called wife took over and he helped her to a sitting position.

"Leontis. I fear that I cannot travel much further, the babes are restless." Iris spoke quietly so as not to alert the others, but Leontis knew that his dragon friends and Gadriel would hear the words.

"You are nearing your eighth moon, they are not due yet."

"I am aware of that husband." She whispered harshly, discomfort making her irritable. "But they are not working to the same time scale that we are." Leontis nodded before standing back up, deep down he felt fear and though he tried to hide it from Iris she sensed his feelings often better than he himself. Both Gadriel and Leontis feared what was to come and the women were terrified of their unknown future.

"Ivy, Lily, would you gather firewood and prepare dinner. Enka and Ator can stay and watch guard." They all agreed, Leontis was in charge of this journey and any subordination had been stamped out long ago. The two elves and the large black dragon took flight once more, once away from the others Leontis explained his plan. "Iris will not last much longer, she is likely to give birth soon. We need to find somewhere." They all looked down at the mountain where they had made camp, it was tall and strong with plenty of life upon it in the form of trees and animals, a stream wound its way around the base and there were fields a plenty in the surrounding areas.

"This seems like a gem. Perhaps we should search around, make sure there are no other inhabitants." Evindäl journeyed with them as they searched the mountain and the surrounding areas. Once they were satisfied that they were the sole inhabitants, the elves explained to the women that this would be their home. Together, with Iris barely able to move, they built a home for themselves. A house made from wood, strong and large it held six bedrooms, a large kitchen and living area and even a separate building, simple in its design with the intention of them praying to their Goddess. They placed it at the base of the mountain, near to the stream and cleared a space, creating a vegetable garden. Leontis and Gadriel even built a swinging chair which sat at the front of the house, where Iris spent most of her days before the birth. The dragons remained, enjoying basking in the warm sun and travelling across the land to explore. Leontis swung his axe down again, the power in his arm splitting the log in half as easily as if it were a piece of fruit. As the metal thunked on the wood below, he heard the scream. Iris was ready. The next stage of the vision passed in a blur to Evindäl, the screaming and the blood was terrifying and he couldn't help but think about the Lady Rhaenion going through this torment six times. Despite what looked like a massacre, both Aifin, a girl and Andee, a boy, were fine and Iris recovered, with the help of Gadriel and Leontis' Ability. Next came Ivy's child, whom Ivy named Maion for his father. It was a gesture which had truly warmed Leontis' heart. By the time Lily gave birth to her daughter Olina, they were living in a happy routine. Leontis and Iris had grown closer once more, though he still did not kiss her nor call her his love. The sisters grieved for their old lives and for their deceased father, but they remained close. Their love for each other and their children pulling them through. As each day passed Leontis grew hopeful for all of their futures. Looking down at his children's faces, he could not imagine the future which he had witnessed all of those moons ago. Whilst too young to really tell which parent the children looked more like, both Aifin and Andee had inherited his dark locks with their mothers blue eyes. His heart was filled with love. Walking through their home Leontis made his way to the small temple they had built for Aodolys and Fealos. Once he stepped foot within, his heart became full of sorrow for his home. For Myrení and his family. It was easy to forget what he had lost when he was with his children, but here when it was only him and his deities, he surrendered to the truth. The room itself was little more than three walls facing a huge tree which was so alike those in the Forest, Gadriel and Leontis had felt this was the place to remember their Goddess. Now, as he knelt in the damp grass, placing his hands upon the rough bark, he was overcome with visions once more. His children would live happy lives, but they would be filled with hate for themselves, for the gifts they possessed but the short lifespan they had to control it. Even here, in the far corners of the world they would reach out to others. But Aodolys was not visiting him to show him his children's future, she was showing him the future of his people. Of what could come to be, the forests burning to the ground, his father dying never knowing what became of his only son. The dying screams of thousands of elves as Her favourites were slaughtered for being different. He did not understand what he was seeing, pain and grief clouding his mind. And that was when Evindäl heard Her, her voice so soft and serene he nearly cried out with joy. She spoke in Leontis' mind and so in Evindäl's also. I am truly sorry beloved, for the pain which you now bare. I show you possible futures, centuries ahead of us. Even I cannot see all that will come to pass, but sometimes I am able to help. I see this future for our people, I wish it were not so. I cannot guarantee it will not come to pass, but know that unless you return to my Forest, this will happen and there will be no stopping it. You are the key to the future of our race, you must return home.

But what of my family here? Leontis thought back. And Aodolys' grave voice returned to his mind.

You must leave beloved. For that I am truly sorry. I have seen your future here. As your love grows stronger for your wife and children, so too will their power over you. If you remain, within one simple decade, you will return them to Elindor. You will think you can protect them and others, but you will be wrong. Their future is here, away from others. They will live in peace. If you return with them, your beloved children will be the cause of the destruction of My Forest. It saddens my heart that it is so, but their future is written clearly.

And if I stay until they are older? Their lifetime will be but a blink in my own. Please allow me this.

It cannot be so. Both yourself and Gadriel must leave. Now. Otherwise you risk the lives of your family here and your family back in Elindor. Goodbye my beloved. Go with my grace and my love. And my sorrow. She disappeared from his mind, leaving behind only anger and confusion.

Evindäl awoke, taking a huge breath and feeling as though he had been plunged into a bucket of ice cold water. Beside him, his Grandfather knelt, fresh tears upon his cheeks. Both shivering, although the air was warm, they stared at each other for a long while, neither knowing what to say, neither wanting to break the silence. Evindäl tried to digest all of the information, struggling to get his head around all the implications of the tale. The forest around him still breathed life, the magic still sang in his blood. And yet it was with a deep sadness, sympathetic to the vision he had just witnessed. He had promised his Grandfather he would not judge, that they were kin and no matter what he witnessed that would not change. But knowing this, the extent of how deeply his own family were ingrained with the destruction of Elindor, the pain went deeper than any of his scars.

"These creatures which haunt our land, destroying our way of life, they are, in fact family." He whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Effectively, yes. Though I doubt they would be glad to hear you say that."

"You left them?"

"I did, it was the most difficult thing I ever had to do."

"Do you still love her? Iris?" He hadn't meant to ask those words, was unsure if he wanted to know the answer. Elves very rarely loved more than one other, their lives so long they chose to live it with their true soul mate.

"In a way I do, though I believe it is a human love. The feeling, though unlike anything I ever felt before, pales in comparison to my feelings for Analee." Leontis replied after a moment's pause, Evindäl could see the truth in his eyes. "Even in my Mourning I have wondered on my decisions of the past."

"Do you wish you had done what your initial instinct told you to do?" Another question he feared the answer of, he looked down, averting his gaze. He had felt the wrath deep within Leontis as he had stared at his first wife, unveiling her deepest held secrets.

"The thought has occurred to me, now more than ever. But in times such as this, when we look back, we must look at the whole. When I was your age, there were many humans who would like to rampage through this very forest, slaughtering elves both young and old. Their rash decisions sprouting from their ignorance. It is in fact what led to the destruction, the near death of our home. If I had done the same, killing those babes whilst they still grew in the womb, how would I be any different? Using my own fear of the unknown to justify slaughter."

"It pains me to say this, to even think it. But the two situations cannot be put together. Yes, you were afraid of the unknown, but the Goddess herself granted you a vision of the future they would bring. You were not entirely blind."

"But what sort of a man would I have been? Would I be now?" Evindäl was silent. He would never have thought he would condone murdering children, but having seen the Mage and their terrible wrath, he was unsure what he would do if he could go back in time. "What pains me more, is that I never told her."

"My Grandmother?" Leontis nodded his head in answer.

"She would have understood, I always knew that. But I could never do it."

"What of Gadriel?"

"He never forgave himself, I had seen the vision so I knew the truth. Though the urge was deep within me to return, if only to look from afar, the images burnt into my mind stopped me. Gadriel did not have such a memory, maybe it was a blessing and maybe a curse. He returned once a decade, the young dragon Ator taking him, they became fierce friends. He would be gone for many moons, and when he returned he would be a mixture of emotions. I never asked him of his travels, pretended I knew not where he went." Leontis took a deep breath, looking up at the branches high overhead. "Another display of my weakness. After seven decades, such a small span of time to those deep within the forest, away from the passing of time, Ator returned alone. He brought with him a book, within it I recognised the writings of my dear friend. A journal as it were, of his journeys every ten years." Evindäl waited, expecting more, but Leontis remained silent until Evindäl could not bear the suspense.

"What did it say? In the journal?"

"I only ever read one page. Could not bring myself to delve deeper into the lives of my children." Evindäl's hopes came crashing back down, quicker than his fall from the trees.

"But it could have held the answer to our future." He whispered, feeling his work unravel before his very eyes.

"I doubt it would help you with some way to stop them, but knowledge of your enemy is paramount to victory and if it is knowledge that you seek." He left the sentence unfinished as he reached within his regal tunic and pulled out an ancient tome, Evindäl could see just from looking at it that it had not been opened for a long time. As Evindäl stared down at the book in his trembling hands, he was overcome with a deep sense of sadness. After all this time, he may not know how to end the war, but he would understand the Svetian's like no other before, he would understand his kin. The word sounded sour in his own mind. Looking up to thank his Grandfather, he saw Leontis had moved right beside Analee, his sad eyes looking upon her face memorised in stone. "Thank you Evindäl. For waking me." Evindäl said nothing, unsure what one could say in such a circumstance. He too looked upon Analee's beautiful face.

"I never noticed before, but Faelyn has her chin, and the shape of her eyes." He eventually said quietly, picturing his beloved sister.

"What is she like this sister of yours?" Evindäl smiled slightly, thinking of their happy childhood.

"Stubborn and boisterous." He said laughing, a sad smile touched Leontis' lips. "But she is mainly kind, loving, innocent. I was blessed to have her in my life. In truth, I am sad to see her go." Leontis raised an eyebrow, peering at Evindäl with his eyes. "She is to be married. Father has set up treaties with our neighbours so as to command the armies under one rule. Though I despise the idea I understand the necessity. Though the three lands are peaceful, that does not mean they were all willing to work together to overcome a common threat. Faelyn will be marrying Jaxon, of Camda."

"Faery?" Leontis asks.

"Yes. She will be pleased to meet you." Evindäl added, watching for signs of his Grandfather's reaction. Leontis' eyebrows draw together into a scowl, sadness and anger etched onto his face as though they were born there.

"I do not know what conceptions you had when you came here lad. But I will not be moving from this spot. I am grateful you woke me. When I first returned here, I desperately sought her out, but the Sleep took me too quickly. Now, I can return to slumber beside my beloved Analee." His voice held no unshed tears, not even remorse, just power and determination. Never before had he been with someone who made his own anger rise so quickly, but he could feel it then pulsing through him like a living being.

"How can you return to your ignorant state? Peacefully sleeping as though the outside world were not crumbling around you. Dying because of your actions!" He cried, his voice piercing the quiet forest. His fists shook with rage and disappointment. As the silence stretched on, his emotions only grew stronger. "I came here looking for a hero. All I have found is a coward with a dark history which has tarnished our race and plunged the lives of those who we are supposed to protect into danger!" Finally, Leontis turned away from his wife's face, the anger in his own features twin to Evindäl's.

"Be wary boy. I am still your elder, I demand and deserve your respect."

"You have no right to it! You had a duty to your people. You should have told another, my father would have understood, he would have kept your secret but it would have saved us, we could have been prepared. You named us leaders of our people, of all the people and the creatures in Elindor, but your refusal to admit to your own wrongdoings have left those under our care dying."

"You have no idea what humans are capable of! I named us leaders so that we could watch them not protect them! They need only protecting from themselves, from their own selfish natures. We were to nurture them, show them how life could be if it were filled with love." Evindäl shook his head sadly.

"You know nothing of love." He spat, more venom in his voice than he would have thought possible. "Love is sacrifice. Love is being honest with those you hold dearest, even if you know it could invite their hate. Love is embracing those around you, no matter their race nor their abilities. I love my country, my people. I sacrificed the love of my life for them. I shall never know what it is like to look upon the face of the woman I hold dearest in my heart as we say our vows to one another, never again will I feel her lips upon mine nor her hair tickling my face as she holds me close. You think you know sacrifice, you moved on from Iris to a new woman, one you were never honest with. You said goodbye to your children and welcomed a new one into this world, never telling him the truth, that he once had a brother and sister, nieces and nephews. You may be a hero in the eyes of our people, but I will now and forever know the truth, that now, when you finally have the chance to help right the wrongs you did, you instead remain here, hiding within your own despair. You are a coward Leontis. And I am ashamed to call you Grandfather." The anger in his heart wrestled with the turmoil, he wanted so badly to send his Grandfather back to sleep with a smile and an embrace, instead he did so with words of disgust. Whilst he had never been one quick to anger, he had always been one who coveted the truth, he would not hide it now. He stared deep into Leontis' eyes, the furious scowl remained permanently upon his brow, before he spun on his heel and marched away.

Chapter 25

Vita rested a hand upon Ema's head, the simple act was meant to comfort the child, but she found the movement helped steady her own spinning emotions. The horse and cart rumbled along, ignorant of the warring feelings contained within its passengers. Every bump and jostle brought a wince to Vita's face. She allowed herself a glance behind to her niece nestled in the back covered by blankets. It had been almost a week since the attack and even now Vita awoke in cold sweats, terrified of the nightmares plaguing her of Ema being dragged away.

"We shall stop here." Ezhra said, slowing her run to a walk. She had been debating with herself about something these seven days since the attack and by the look upon her face she had come to a decision. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, promising a wet and miserable night. Ezhra lay down pine needles beneath the cart for them to sleep in relative dry before she gently carried Aesa below. After they had eaten their supper Ezhra stood up and asked Ema to join her. When the girl stood before her, the elf knelt down so they were able to look at each other. Gone was the self-doubt in Ezhra's eyes as she took a small dagger from her own boot and handed it to the child. Vita started to protest, surely the child had been through too much, had seen too much bloodshed, but Ezhra stopped her with a fierce glare.

"Tis not your decision to make Vita." She turned her eyes away, shame and anger at herself flooded through her veins. She had not protected the girl, she had failed.

"Aunt Vita." Ema's voice commanded her attention, she sounded so mature that for a moment Vita was not sure who had spoken. "Do not blame yourself for the hand which we have been dealt." But Vita did blame herself, how could she not?

"I failed you, I failed Letty." Vita whispered, unable to hold back the thoughts which had been rolling around in her mind for days. She looked at Ema, who had been a niece to her since the day she was born and felt her heart breaking all over again.

"Aunt Vita. I do not do this because I don't believe you can protect me." At Vita's silence Ema took a step closer. She seemed so small, so fragile. Only nine summers old and yet her face showed signs of sorrow and of knowledge beyond her years. The world surrounding them seemed to crumble, until it was simply Vita and Ema alone. "Do you know what my ma's final words to me were?" Vita shook her head in a daze. "She pushed me up into that tree and told me she loved me. She made me promise to do one final thing for her, I agreed willingly, anything for her. Then she told me live Ema, live every day like it is your last. And through you I shall live too. I intend to do just that Vita. I intend to live."

"Do you think Aunt Aesa will wake up soon?" Ema asked quietly later that evening, her innocent question piercing Vita's heart as painful as any knife. Gone was the mature girl entering womanhood too soon, back was the young child who was innocence and kindness personified.

"I don't know child." She whispered back, telling herself not to cry, not to scare the girl anymore.

"You don't have to be brave for me Aunt Vita." Ema said, her small hand resting upon Vita's old and calloused one. "It is ok to be sad and to be afraid." A sob wracked her body as she thought of her beloved niece below the cart and of the child now comforting her. The child who had lost her whole family, been dragged from everything she knew into a world full of magic, danger and death. What happened to innocence? What happened to her mother's favourite lesson which she had in turn always tried to teach Aesa. If you are a good person, if you do good by those around you then they will do good by you. As she stared out at a landscape wholly alien to her, thinking of all that had happened in her life, she suddenly felt very much like she had been lied to.

Aesa stood alone, her bare feet nestled into the soil, barely feeling the cold as it tried to seep through her limbs. Rather than wearing the split skirts and leggings she had adorned since arriving in Elindor, she was in her Healers dress and apron, with a basket in one hand and Arina's doll in the other. The trees she looked upon were so familiar she felt as though she could touch each one and know its life story. She was home. As soon as the realisation was upon her, terror followed. She looked down, away from the trees she had once found solace in, to her feet buried within the soil. What she saw brought a scream rolling up her chest and out of her mouth, so loud, so painful that it nearly pierced her ears. She stood in ashes and blood, as she stared it rose higher and higher, spilling over her ankles and up her shins, reaching for her knees. If she did not move she would be trapped, left to suffocate in the burnt remains of her friends and loved ones, the thought brought bile to her mouth and she had to choke it down. Panic gripped her as she desperately moved her legs, pulling herself out. As the ground rose higher and her terror reached its limit before hysteria took over, she screamed out at the top of her lungs for help, for him.

Raken grinned wickedly as the traitor was brought before him. The man stood tall and proud, though Raken knew that would change. It had taken six of Raken's best men to bring this one down, three had lost their lives. From what little information he had, the man was new, young and bold, only drafted in in the last few weeks to the army. He had helped prisoners escape. Raken had asked Kaine and Katsa to be with him for this, his most loyal Guardians.

"So." He said simply, allowing his piercing stare do the talking for him. His black eyes staring deep into the soul of the man before him. Blue eyes looked back, their gaze so fierce that Raken was sad they would have to kill him, he would have been a good soldier. A good Mage. "You have been found conspiring with our enemy, helping prisoners escape so that they can continue slaughtering us, their rightful rulers. Is there anything you have to say for yourself before I see you executed?" The boy only barked out a laugh, blood dribbled down his chin as he did so.

"Rightful rulers? You are but a tyrant. Like a little boy who doesn't like to share his toys. My only regret is that I could not kill you before I meet the gallows." The smile never left Raken's face, this was nothing he hadn't heard before. Though uncommon, some Mage and Guardians deterred from their parts in life. It was not something Raken was unwilling to handle.

"Do you see these two Guardian's boy?" He held out his hands to either side, pointing at the twins. "Loyal to me, their rightful ruler. She is happy to lay with me, to please me in any way she can, whilst he gladly tends to her bruises if I am too, shall we say forceful. That is loyalty, that is truth. Their rightful place is to serve me in any way they can and mine is to protect them from the magical beings who seek to harm them, to take them away from their rightful place. You will see the truth of our places before you die." Raken stepped away, running one hand over his black mane from the top of his head, following the locks as they fell to his waist, savouring the time as he waited to dispense justice. He had been born for this, for ruling, for war. "Kaine my boy. Do you love me?" He asked, quietly, but not so quietly that the guards and the captive did not hear.

"Like a father Master." He replied without hesitation, his eyes staring forward unblinking. Raken pulled one of his daggers from the sheath at his waist, the blade was not a straight point, the metal waved and rippled like the sea, but the point was deadly. Inscribed upon it was one word, Maion. It has been in his family for generations, the significance of the word had lost its meaning, but Raken coveted it as his father had before him.

"When I say so, you are to take this and plunge it into the heart of that man." Kaine did not hesitate, with his eyes firmly averted, he took the knife and held it at his side.

"You are so willing to give up your life for what you believe the Guardian's want?" He asked as he turned back to the traitor, finally seeing the horror in his eyes. "So be it. Kaine, now." The boy moved swiftly, the knife plunged deep in the traitor's chest, buried right up the hilt, just as ordered. The light left the traitors blue eyes instantly, though the look of disgust would forever be etched upon his young face. Nobody spoke as Kaine wiped the blood upon his own tunic before handing the dagger back to Raken and returning to his spot.

Aesa clawed her way out of the ground, her clothes covered in blood and gore, but she was free and that was what mattered. As she walked away from the pit that had nearly been her death, her breathing steadied and her heart beat returned to normal. But Aesa knew these woods, and she knew exactly where she was heading. Even before the smell assailed her nose, or the heat blasted her skin, Aesa knew she was walking to the Village Square, to the centre of her fear, to the heart of her grief and to the source of her madness.

Ezhra gently brushed the hair away from Aesa's face. Even the slightest movement left the curls with an unruly mission to misbehave, Vita said it was a trait she inherited from her mother. Their whole journey had been filled with pain and mystery, plans for vengeance and danger. But the last seven days, as they had travelled quietly through the remainder of the border country of Lopal, drawing ever closer to Maric, there had been little talk, no laughter. Whatever words were ushered were done so quietly, as though to speak louder than a whisper was disrespectful to their friend. Though not adept at healing, Ezhra had offered to change the bandage covering Aesa's wound. She would not voice it, none of them would, but she knew that Vita struggled to even look upon her niece. Unwrapping the bandage softly, her long fingers careful not to press too hard, though she did not know whether Aesa would register if she did, she discarded the soiled bandages. As Vita had told her to do, she cleaned the wound. To look at it now, it was difficult to remember the way it had looked seven days hence, when all that kept the limb attached was a stretch of skin and strings of muscle. Vita had pulled on her gifts, magical and otherwise, to attach the limb, now all that was left was a wound stitched together five inches long, spreading around the top of her arm. Though stitched, the swelling and damage still seeped through in the form of blood and other stuff Ezhra did not want to think about. The wound upon Aesa's head was also fixed, the only mark it was ever there was the scar now nearly healed and the small patch of missing hair. Thanks to Vita, all of their wounds had healed, though she was unsure if those within could be so easily fixed. She thought of how Ema had killed a man with a mixture of pride and regret. They did not know what assailed Aesa now, what kept her locked within her own mind, but Ezhra couldn't help but think her friend chose to remain there.

"Come back soon my friend. We will need you." She whispered, "I need you."

Aesa stepped forward, closer to the inferno which held her family within its fiery grasp. Closer to the smell which had never truly left her, of burning bodies and charred skin. Closer to the moment when her whole life crumbled, when her grip on reality wavered and when she began to lose herself. It would be so easy to join them. Throughout her journey she had stopped herself, pushed such morbid thoughts from her mind, telling herself that it wasn't yet time. She must exact her vengeance first. But now she was here and the thought of death, of dying came as nothing more than a gift. She could walk into its embrace smiling, knowing she would be with them once more. When she had been trapped in the ground, knowing she would choke upon the ashes of her family, she had desperately clawed her way free, but deep down she knew it was not through a love of life, a need to re-join the living. It was simply a need to not die there. But here, with them, embraced by them, that brought a small smile to her dry lips. With the flicker of the flames and the hiss of the heat she could hear their voices calling to her. She thought of Ema and Aunt Vita, but they had each other now, they had Ezhra. They would be ok. As the thought swept over her and away again she stepped closer, the flames burned so bright in her eyes she had to squint, sweat beaded on her brow. Each breath she took and released was like letting go of her worries, like stepping just that little bit closer to her end. Her release.

Ezhra watched, almost lazily, as the sweat formed along Aesa's hairline, the beads growing in quantity by the second. The early evening air was cool, with signs of rain to come. She did not want to alarm Vita unnecessarily, so continued her vigil over Aesa as Vita sat stirring their dinner for the evening. They were only two days away from Rhebeth, the closer they came the more agitated they were, each for different reasons. Ema was practising her knife throwing, every now and again Ezhra would comment quietly on her skill, or offer her advice on how to improve, Vita pointedly looked anywhere but at the child. Whilst Ezhra understood the hesitancy, it also frustrated her. If it were not for Ema's quick thinking, it was likely one of them would be dead. Ezhra herself began learning sword fighting when she was a young child. Death was a fact of life and when in times of danger and hardship it is those who were prepared to act who live. It took only a few more moments for Ezhra to realise that something was wrong.

"Vita." She called softly, though she could not help the hint of panic in her voice. "Aesa is burning up."

"Hurry, help me!" Vita called back, panic for her niece overcoming the usual stubbornness to refuse help. Ezhra had Vita in her arms and then atop the cart in a blink. Even in that time, Aesa's hair became wet with sweat and her whole body burned like she had a fever. Vita placed one hand atop Aesa's forehead, but Ezhra saw she almost had to pull away the heat was so intense.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Ezhra asked desperately when Vita offered no explanation.

"I don't bloody know. The heat is no illness, it comes from within her. I can't find the source."

"Do what you did before when you healed her, use your Ability to go within her!" She cried out, desperation giving way to fear. She did not expect any hesitancy from Vita and she did not receive any. Without a word, Vita placed both hands to the side of Aesa's head, closing her eyes to concentrate. Ezhra felt the power thrumming through Vita so clearly it was though she could reach out and touch it. She just hoped it was enough.

Vita moved by instinct, having only tried such a feat a handful of times she stepped carefully, but even with caution, as a part of herself moved within Aesa, she felt her own body burning with the fever which had consumed her niece. Using a thread of her power, she cast it down, through the veins of Aesa, seeking, searching. But her search was in vain, there was nothing to heal, no fever raging, nor injury to mend. It was as though Aesa was in perfect health. Apart from the fact her skin was on fire and she had been in a coma for a week. In a last desperate attempt to help, she sent herself up, to the brain, the closer she got the more intense the heat grew, whatever was going on, she knew it was residing in there.

Aesa stepped closer again, reaching out with one hand, as she lifted her arm she saw the flames she commanded spring to life, wrapping around her wrist like a snake. She looked at her other arm expectantly, but still the power of ice eluded her. It mattered not, the fire was all she needed. She let it burn through her, until the flames which had started at her fingers travelled up her arms and across her chest, travelling and consuming her in their warmth.

"Aesa." It was barely a whisper on the wind. "My love." Her eyes searched frantically for his face, for his eyes, for his love. Tears choked her, sorrow engulfed her heart once more.

"I am coming to you." She called out to the air.

"No." His voice whispered again, closer this time. She closed her eyes against the pain it bore.

"I cannot do it any longer Cale. I can't live without you, without them." She opened her eyes when he did not respond, unsure if he had left her once more. "Cale?"

"I am here. Just open your eyes." They were open, but she had looked nowhere but deep into the pyre before her. Instead she looked away, at the village itself. And he was there, stepping toward her. His dark hair smooth, his chin covered with a light sprinkling of stubble, but it was his deep green eyes which captivated her, which haunted her dreams. They shone with love and understanding just as they had in life. She ran to him, but he stopped her. "The flames my love, they will burn me." But now that they consumed her, she did not know how to let them go. Aunt Vita had always said hers were controlled by love, Aesa's grip on control had never been so simple. Sometimes, all she need do was think about her love for her Aunt or for Ema, but when she thought of her family it was not love which coaxed the flame, but heartache. Rather than trying to differentiate the two, she brought them together, all of the love she had ever felt, mixed with all of the sorrow. As she did, the flames diminished. As soon as her fingertips were no longer burning orange, he wrapped his arms around her and she sobbed into his chest.

"I cannot live without you any longer." She confided between her sobs.

"You must. You are the only one who can continue on. We will be waiting for you. But you cannot come to us like this. Life is precious and you must grasp it whilst you can. For me and for us. For all of Renfall who lost their lives and for all of Debdran." She understood what he was saying, felt the truth of his words as he ran his hand over her hair, just like he used to.

"It is just so hard." She whispered, clinging to him, pulling him even closer as though in doing so she could pull him into herself, take him wherever she is going.

"I am with you my love. You know this, I travel in your heart." She nodded.

"I think I will be going soon." He laughed, the chuckle reverberating deep within his chest and it warmed her heart to hear it again.

"Then go with my love and my blessing. We will see each other again, but though I miss you, I would like that day to be a long time away."

"I can't promise anything, but I will live my life with you in my heart and my thoughts. Goodbye my love." Aesa choked out, barely able to speak past her cries. Cale leaned down, his large frame encircling her in his arms, he placed his lips upon hers softly, but in the kiss he poured all of his love for her and she for him. And as she closed her eyes on him a part of her that had been dead awakened.

Vita pulled out of Aesa so quickly she fell backwards, but Ezhra's strong hands caught her before any real damage could be done. Vita's breath came in short gasps, terror gripping her and taking away her ability to talk. Ema was next to her, all three of them looking upon Aesa's face, now a mask of emotion, horror, heartache, despair, love, fear. Nobody spoke, the only noise came from Vita's own laboured breathing. As one, the three of them took each other's hands, to comfort one another as they witnessed Aesa's torment. After what seemed like hours, Vita could see how Aesa's hold on life was slipping, her breathing becoming shallow, her skin losing all of its colour, but there was nothing any of them could do. When all hope fled her, taking flight like a bird, loneliness hit Vita like a crushing weight. She closed her eyes, not wanting to witness as the last breath left her nieces mouth. Her niece who had been a daughter, a sister, a friend.

Without meaning to, Ezhra had been holding onto her breath, it was only as her head became light and she felt she may pass out that it occurred to her to breathe again. As she took a deep breath in and then released it, she heard a miracle. Aesa's heartbeat speeding back up, the steady stutter came to her ears like the sweetest music and she squeezed Vita and Ema's hands, possibly a little too hard. Together, they all looked down as Aesa took a huge breath and opened her eyes.

Chapter 26

Evindäl took one last look behind him as he ran a hand over Lightning's neck. The Forest shone in the rising sunlight, a beacon of hope for his people that they may one day return home. In his hand, he clutched the book Leontis had entrusted to him. Even now, days after he stormed away, more anger residing within him than he had ever held for someone dear to him before, he held regret. But his words still rang true in his heart. At least I have some answers. Evindäl thought.

"Come my friend, we have a long journey and little time." He said softly, scratching the horse behind the ears inviting a neigh of approval. Though he loved his horse and even enjoyed riding, he had always done so, so as not to appear more capable than others, but as he looked at the journey ahead and back to his trusty steed, Evindäl could not bring himself to get back in the saddle. "Today we run together. Today we run free." Placing the book safely into one of the saddle bags, he leaned back on his heel, before setting off at a run.

Aesa stared at the city growing before her, the closer they travelled the more daunting the place appeared. Having lost time travelling due to Aesa's condition, she had insisted that they speed up the journey and had spent the last two days moving at full speed. Luisa lumbered on though she could feel the mare needed a rest. Ezhra had insisted on running herself and Aesa was surprised to see even she had broken a sweat. Every now and then one of them would glance at her warily, she did not know what it was they were so afraid of, but she supposed if any of them had been in a coma for a week she would be concerned too. Aesa knew how grateful she should be for their love and support but still, even after her promise to Cale, she was unsure whether she had chosen the right path.

"Sana lives in there?" Vita asked incredulously. Ezhra did not answer, there was no need to, Vita knew better than any of them where her twin resided. "Bloody hell." Her sentiments on this occasion were precise. The city rose before them in tiers, spreading up a huge mountain. At the base of the mountain Aesa could see grey buildings, even from here it was easy to see they had been built haphazardly, those at the outer edges grimier and more basic than those closer to the base of the mountain. Atop them, built on the mountain face itself, was a semi-circle of buildings split off from the lower city by a wall, and again above that area was yet another wall with another mini city, this one surrounding a castle which looked as though it had been carved from the mountain itself. Everything about it was bleak, though the colours were neutral and preferable to Aesa's own tastes when compared to Syriak, a chill still settled over her as her gaze wandered the cold walls of Rhebeth. She looked over at her Aunt, wanting to see if she too felt the same dread that was residing within Aesa's own heart. As though knowing Aesa's thoughts, Vita turned and met her look, her brow pulled together in a frown and her eyes dark with sadness. They both knew it. If Sana wanted to see them she would have come by now.

"We came this far." She said, more to Aunt Vita than anyone else, but it was Ezhra who nodded and started walking once more.

Elion lashed out with a sweep of his blade, using his superior strength to bat the sword from his opponent. Whilst the man before him was reaching for the knife at his belt, Elion landed a kick dead centre in his chest, and heard the metal of his armour cave in. Gasping for breath, the Mage fell to his knees, already calling on his dark magic to try and kill Elion but Elion had power of his own. It was as though there were no other people on the battlefield, the screaming and sound of metal against metal, it all disappeared as he stepped closer to his prey. Out here, in the thick of it, magic and steel came hand in hand, but as he saw the man before him begin to mutter a spell, he pulled on the heat around him, concentrating it together without moving a muscle, into a rolling ball of flames barely larger than his fist. With a flick of his hand the inferno raced toward the black heart of the man before him, and into the flames Elion poured his contempt. The man died instantly, though Elion wished the same could be said for his friend Mat who lay at the feet of Elion's opponent. Sweat beads grew across Mat's forehead, his young eyes searching. Both of his legs had been blasted off, removed from his body using an exceptionally strong blast of air coming from two angles. His breaths came out ragged.

"Elion." He whispered, so low even Elion nearly missed it over the sounds returning to him from all around.

"I am here." He said kneeling beside his fallen friend, taking his hand.

"I am afraid to die." The boy muttered. He is too young for this. He came here with a letter of Ezhra's blessing, but there is none to blame for his death save those who sweep the land on a mad quest. Elion thought bitterly, tears forming in his eyes. "But I am proud I protected my family. I am proud to die here."

"You should be proud, as am I and your family. I will not leave you my friend."

"Thank you." Mat smiled, looking up at the sky overhead, Elion wished he could have a clear view of the sun as the life passed from him, but balls of flame and buffets of wind blow over head. "I go to the Goddess now."

"Go with pride and love Mat. You deserve to rest now." He remained crouched low as the life quickly fled Mat's eyes, his breathing slowing until finally it stopped. As the final breath left Mat's lips, he smiled, his eyes never wavering from the Sun Goddess whose brilliant rays peaked through the swirl of magic overhead. Despair threatened to consume him but he pushed it down below his seething anger. With shaking hands Elion gently closed Mat's eyes to the horrors all around and stretched his legs back out. With a roar he leapt as only an elf could, back into the fray.

Vita gripped the reins to the horse so hard she felt the leather burning into her skin. How long had it been since she felt Sana this close? Decades had passed, longer apart than they had been together. Now that she was so close she could feel their hearts beating in unison, terror was all that filled Vita's heart. As intuitive as ever, Ema laid a hand upon Vita's arm, comforting her even as her bright green eyes looked at all surrounding them. The only other city they had ever seen was Syriak and this was as alien to there as they were to it. People all around them stopped and stared, whispers spread like wildfire until there were so many people that Vita and her friends could barely continue their journey. She looked to Ezhra, thinking perhaps they had not seen an elf before, but she in turn looked back at Vita.

"It is you, you look so like their Queen they do not understand." Ezhra explained quietly, guiding Aesa's horse so that they all walked together.

"I do not want to see her like this." Vita said, not entirely sure she meant to speak aloud. Both Aesa and Ezhra raised eyebrows at her. "Upon this blasted cart. I wish to walk from here." So they helped her down and after Aesa tied her own mare to the cart with Ezhra's steed, they all walked together through the silent crowds, to meet the Ice Queen.

Ezhra ran a hand back over her hair, trying to tame the stray pieces which flew about her face. Despite the situation and circumstance, she remained a member of the Elindor court who was at this point visiting a neighbouring dignitary. She must act appropriately to her station or her King and Queen could find themselves in an awkward situation with King Franko. Her eyes glanced to the side, sweeping over the determined faces of her friends. It pained her that she had kept something from them and yet it would have pained her more to explain that her love was betrothed to their kin. What a bloody mess she had found herself in. She thought darkly, staring up at Aodolys for strength. With every step they took Ezhra began to feel regret for keeping the knowledge from them. A scowl twisted across her face. She had never been one to doubt herself but with these women it was all she ever seemed to blasted do. Any regrets she may have were too late now. They approached the first gate which would lead them from the impoverished lower city of Rhebeth and she could see guards lazily going about their duties. Soon enough, their journey to the centre of their turmoil would move much quicker. Rather than focus on the impending meeting, she looked to those around her, chatter had begun once again as the four of them had continued their journey on foot. When Vita had begun to drag her legs along in her smooth amble, gasps had spread like wildfire, talk and gossip rife. The sudden change from near silence to hundreds of people talking was as though a spell had been broken. She could see by the dirty clothes and the stooped backs that these people lived in squalor whilst those above them lived in riches. As her Father had always taught her, her moss green eyes looked deeper, past the tired faces. An elderly man stooped low from a life of labour, at the corner of his eyes were wrinkles put there by years of laughter. Next to him, a child who clung to the old man's legs, her brown eyes so bright with wonder and so full of life that Ezhra could not resist the urge to smile at her.

"It is the Lady Ezhra'lí! Bravest of them all!" The man stood beside the child called out, invoking a cheer which rumbled through the crowd like a huge wave. The child stepped forward hesitantly at first and then with more vigour. The top of her head did not even reach Ezhra's hip, so the elf crouched low. Some humans feared her people, others were jealous, but there were a few, like this child, who appreciated the sacrifice elves were making for all of them. The girl said nothing, only smiled shyly, before handing Ezhra a chain made from red flowers.

"I made it for my Ma, but she would want you to have it." The girl eventually whispered when Ezhra hesitated to take it. With a tear in her eye, Ezhra accepted the gift and held it high over her head to the applause of the Rhebethan's, before placing it around her neck. Though she could still sense the tension rolling from her companions, she knew that the display of affection had soothed their concerns, if only for a moment. The guards at the first gate instantly stood to attention when Ezhra stepped forward and demanded to be escorted to the palace. It had taken them nearly two hours to journey through the lower city, an escort would speed their journey. Though Rhebeth was one large city, it functioned as three separate ones, and your status and wealth were the deciding factors in which tier of the city you resided. Ezhra had met more than one excellent Lieutenant from Lopal who was unable to climb the ladder within the army due to their status back home. It was a rule which was outdated and reckless. One of Lopal's lead generals was an imbecile and Ezhra knew her father and the King spent a great deal of time trying to undo mistakes he made. She shook her head, best not to dwell on these things, she was about to come to face to face with the girl who was to marry her beloved. She had to be strong.

Aesa stared around her in wonder, separated by only a wall she was amazed at the difference in the two areas. Amazed and disgusted. The people here walked around in clothes of fine material, with jewellery adorning their person which could easily buy food and better shelter for those living below. Whilst there were still workers here, they moved in a different way, the hard labour, she could see, was done by people from the lower city coming here to work. They passed by a line of shops, a jewellers, a tailor and a book shop. Though nothing like Renfall, she still felt a pang of longing for home when she looked upon the stacks of books within, like her own library Cale had built for her.

"Give me strength Cale." She whispered into the air. She could have sworn she heard him whisper back. "Always." As they walked closer to the second wall which loomed over them casting a dark shadow across part of the inner city, Aesa could not help but sense that Ezhra was almost as agitated as the rest of them. "Are you alright?" She asked quietly, so that their guards would not hear. Ezhra shot her a glance, her green eyes filled with something Aesa was not sure she had seen in them before.

"I will be once we leave this place." She replied, but her words were not unkind and Aesa shared the sentiment completely.

"Is it just me, or does it feel like these men are here to guard us not protect us?" Aesa could not help but voice her feelings. Aunt Vita's eyes narrowed as she glanced about, she nodded once as did Ezhra and that was that. They all felt the same way but there was little they could do about it now. They approached the second gate, this one was intricately designed though still solid to keep away intruders, the metal had been wrought to look as though the mountain on which they stood was barring the way. "Why do they have the walls?" She asked suddenly, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer. Ezhra looked at her with another odd look upon her face before she smiled sadly.

"To keep them separate from those below them. And in case of war."

"Ezhra?" A jolly voice called out, so deep it sounded as though it reverberated out of its keeper's chest.

"Rarin? Rarin is that you?" Ezhra called back standing on her toes to try and see the man who was coming out of the guard house, it did not take long, even at Aesa's disadvantaged small height she could see the mountain of a man as he bowled through the guards. His height was nothing compared to the muscles which bulged from his uniform, his shoulders so wide Aesa was sure she could perch upon one of them. But the smile upon his face was friendly and his grey eyes open. "Bloody hell! By the Goddess I never thought I would see you on guard duty!" He seemed a bit disgruntled by her words and mumbled a curse.

"One of the King's Guards now, I didn't mind it so much when he was still at the front, but we returned two moons ago and I have been sitting here twiddling my thumbs ever since." Ezhra put a sympathetic hand on his arm. "I am here to escort you as it happens. I was told to expect one who looked like our Queen, not two. But by Aodolys herself you are the spitting image." He said staring at Aunt Vita so intently she blushed.

"Well that's usually the case with twins you bloody idiot." Aunt Vita mumbled harshly, though her eyes were kind when she said it. He barked out a laugh.

"Should have known you would find like-minded people girl!" He exclaimed, clapping Ezhra on the back so hard Aesa flinched for her, but the elf seemed not to have noticed. "Let's be off then. You are to have an escort of ten of my best men." Even without knowing the man, Aesa heard the implication in his words as he led them off. Ten men for three women and a child. Ridiculous. The whole notion became even more ridiculous as they stepped through the thick wall and into the castle grounds. Aesa had been right in her assumption, it was carved from the mountain itself. The grey walls spread up so high Aesa had to crane her head back to see the tops, criss crossing between towers and spires were bridges of grey granite, huge windows opened into a variety of rooms allowing light to pool deep into the castle. It was hard to imagine her mother living here. A small voice deep within her muttered harshly at her, reminding her that her mother was dead. The ice had long since taken her heart.

Chapter 27

Vita could not keep her eyes from darting every which way, hungrily taking in all of the sights of the castle. Every wall was covered in tapestries and paintings, the floors cushioned by soft, deep carpets. The whole place was a show of wealth and power. Servants hurried to and fro, barely noticing the escort and the newcomers. The deeper they walked into the mountain the more oppressed Vita began to feel. She could sense the rock all around them, closing them in, trapping them there. Vita had never felt claustrophobic before, but then she supposed she had never been anywhere quite like this before. All too soon she felt their escorts slowing, terror clutched at her heart making her falter. It was too soon, she was not ready, how could she ever be ready? Her thoughts reeled, her mind refusing to still after decades of dreaming; finally, after years of hoping and wishing, she was here. She could feel Sana so close she wanted to cry out. Calm down she told herself sternly. Already her imagination was running away, imagining the three of them laughing and crying as they embraced. But as she tried to compose herself, pull her thoughts back in place, their escort was throwing open the huge oak doors which stood twice as tall as Ezhra, and they were being ushered inside. The room itself was a masterpiece. The floor covered in black and white marble tiles, each one big enough for four people to stand on. Leading away from the doors were two rows of black and white marble columns, holding up some sort of floor which then overlooked the centre of the room. At the centre a dais was raised in gold and three thrones resided. Vita could not help herself, she pushed her way out of the crowd, pulling herself forward, now desperate to get closer, to reach out, to touch her hand to Sana's cheek. Sana who sat there with her husband and child, so regal and poised. Her once unruly hair pinned to her head with jewelled clips, her hands clinging to the arms of her gilded throne so tightly Vita could see the whites of her knuckles. Vita's heart pounded in her ears and for a moment her head spun and she very nearly fainted from the overwhelming sense of love she felt. Despite the deep red dress which clung to her sister's frame and the gold pendant hanging from her neck, even the icy look in her eyes, to Vita, this was still Sana.

"How dare you." Her twins voice rang out, so loud and shrill that it sent a shiver of dread through Vita's whole body. Slowly, Sana rose out of her throne, as she stood taller, so too did her venom grow stronger. "You are a traitor sister." She spat the word so callously that a tear trailed from Vita's eye and down her face. She shook her head, unable to find her tongue. Everything she had ever hoped for in her life, it all crumbled, her hopes and dreams crashing down around her, it felt as though once more she was plummeting from the broken bridge to the icy depths of water beneath. Only this time the pain was much worse.

Aesa watched from behind Ezhra in horror as her mother rose out of her throne, in her anger a piece of hair came loose and in a moment of insanity Aesa let out a small chuckle, so low only the elf heard it. When Ezhra's green eyes pierced her she simply shrugged, unable to explain the significance.

"Sana, sister, please." Vita spoke out, her voice meek and broken. Aesa hated to hear her speak in such a tone. Vita was strength, Vita was power.

"No. You do not get to speak." The anger was anything but gone, but now the Queen spoke quietly and was all the more terrifying for it. The King and the Princess sat idly by, as though nothing untoward was happening. The guards stood stoic in their vigil, the only one who seemed disgusted with the display was Rarin. Aesa's eyes flicked to her half-sister, they resembled one another she noted. Though Irissa's hair was light and she had a slight point to her chin. Sana raised her hand as quick as a viper, pointing a finger at the twin sister who had crossed an ocean to find her. All Aesa could think was how strange it was that Sana had red lacquer covering her long and pointed finger nail. But focusing on the red meant she did not heed the blue crystal as it spread like smoke across Sana's hand. "You should never have come here." Sana eventually said, before casting the ice which had collected in her hand straight out, it shot across the room and pierced Vita right in the heart in the space of one blink. Vita opened her mouth to scream, but no noise came out, Ema screamed in her place. Ezhra moved forward but Aesa could see she did not know what to do. "You left her Vita. I sacrificed everything for you. And you abandoned my baby. Did you think I would welcome you because you were caught doing magic again sister? You never could stop yourself! Always thought you were too clever to get caught! And now she is there and I am here and I will never ever forgive you for it!" Sana's voice echoed through the cavernous room, so cold and calculated that Aesa forgot how to breathe. She cast back to her memories, they were few and far between, but she still could picture the woman who sat in the cage, who told a terrified little girl how much she loved her. The beast before her was not that woman. This was not her mother. Red hot anger shot through her like an arrow. Moving by instinct Aesa raised her arm, welcoming the ice, welcoming the power. Nobody could stop her, the guards were too slow, Sana herself had barely glanced in her direction, the fat man on the throne beside Sana was no match for Aesa, she felt the power raging within her, growing, roaring to be released. She gave it what it wanted. She sent a jet of ice travelling through the air, her aim was true, it not only pierced Sana's heart but it overtook her whole body quicker than she had managed to freeze Vita, the stream pouring into Vita lessened until it ended completely. The Queen was freezing, feeling for the first time her own power turned against her, her face was contorted in rage, her eyes seeking the one who would dare do such a thing. Aesa no longer felt the fear which had sat cold and dark in her stomach. She stepped clear of the people around her, her boots echoing on the marble. And she smiled. Marble began to crack and crumble under the ferocity of her ice, the very room itself grew so cold Aesa could see people's breaths coming out in white bursts. She sent warmth to Vita, not having to coax the flames in her other hand, simply sending their shared power into her Aunt.

"You are wrong. The only one who abandoned me is you mother. Vita was my mother, my father, my friend. She was my sister, my leader and my protector. She is my life. And you have no right to harm her, you could never fathom what we went through to come to you. But the rumours are true. You are no more than a Queen of Ice, residing within a castle built on the blood of innocent people. You live in wealth whilst they live in squalor. You have become all that you once despised and you sicken me. You are nothing!" Aesa screamed, her fury rising with every word, how badly she wanted to freeze Sana's heart like her mother had nearly done to the little girl she left behind all those years ago. She could feel it, the organ beating deep within the freezing limbs, moving sluggish now as the cold seeped through the body.

"Aesa." The voice was soft and gentle, it was a beacon of light in an otherwise mad world where sisters killed sisters and daughters murdered mothers. "Let's go." Ezhra said, this time placing a hand upon Aesa's arm. A snarl built in her throat as she stared at the woman she once called mother. "This is not the way. This is not you." Aesa faltered, her gaze finally slipping from the Queen to the young woman quivering in her throne, her sister, then onto Vita being helped to stand by Rarin. It was that vision which tugged at the warmth left in Aesa's heart and turned her from the path she had stepped upon. Ezhra took Vita in her arms and told Ema to climb on her back in the moments when the room was silent and nobody moved. And then they were running, Aesa desperately trying to keep up with Ezhra who carried two others but still moved faster than humanly possible. Screams of anger rose from the room behind them, the sounds of steel ringing as swords were pulled from scabbards and the shouts of the King, finally reacting to the threat before him. All Aesa could think of was run.

Chapter 28

Evindäl did not have to travel as far as he had anticipated. Only two days from the Forest was a stretch of hills which spread between two huge lakes, nestled between the hills, spreading and weaving over and around the natural rises, was the walled city of Idis. It had always been the plan to fall back to this defendable area if they could no longer hold the Svetian's at the border. Evindäl had just hoped it would not come to this. But it was as good a place as any to defend, and they had been preparing the city for this eventuality for nearly a year. His people now resided within the relative safety of the walls. Their enemy could go around the city, carrying on into the heart of Elindor. To do so would be foolish, leaving their backs exposed. He could see the Svetians had done as predicted, their camp spread across the land in the East. He stood atop the largest hill and looked down at the army below. He heard something behind him, the soft sound of leather creaking and knuckles popping. He smelled pine needles and rain.

"Hello Father." He spoke without turning.

"Welcome back son." King Elmon said, coming to stand beside Evindäl. They stood in silence for a time, watching through the darkness at the evil below.

"There is much to discuss." Evindäl finally said, turning away from the vision, suppressing a shudder at his knowledge of who these people were who had come with murder in their hearts and hatred in their veins for the people of Elindor. "Is Haroun able to meet with us?"

"I shall send for him, he is camped near the southern lake, but he will come." The young elven prince nodded, his expression grave and serious.

"It will be easier to tell you both what I know together. Though I feel I should warn you, my findings come from your father. I have spoken with Leontis himself, and what I have learnt sheds a whole new light on the world. More accurately, it casts it into shadow."

"Stop. You have to stop!" Aesa cried out, clutching her side in pain. Ezhra slowed her steps before finally halting, putting Vita and Ema down. No more words came out, only gasps and spurts, only tears and frustration. She wanted to be strong, to be able to run like a horse, but she couldn't. Her legs turned to jelly and she collapsed to the floor. Finally, Ezhra came to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I am sorry my friend, we will stop now. Catch our breath." The way she said it brought a sarcastic bark of laughter to Aesa's lips. Her legs had turned to mush, her chest felt like a horse was sat atop it and her side felt as though someone had taken a knife to her, repeatedly. In fact, Aesa mused, she must look absolutely awful and there was Ezhra stood with a slight sheen of sweat, her breathing steady save a little faster than usual. And she had carried two other people out of there! The laughter continued to bubble from her lips and soon she was clutching her side again as she doubled over. Ezhra's look of concern softened until she too was grinning, her own laughter joining in, laughing so hard she leant forward and rested her palms on her knees. Ema stared at the two of them like they had lost their minds, and maybe we have but that's ok Aesa thought, still laughing through her pain. But Vita did not revel with them, instead she shakily pulled herself to the edge of the stream and sat down upon a rock. Her eyes stared back the way they had come, a mist in them that told Aesa her Aunt was not here with them in the present, but perhaps looking back at happier times, thinking now more than ever of what she had lost. To see the hurt evident on her Aunt's face brought Aesa back to normality. They both quickly sobered up, though Aesa was glad to have felt free from the crushing heartache, if only for a moment. Once she was able to breathe and function normally, Aesa joined her Aunt placing a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"We have each other Aunt Vita. I meant what I said in there. You are my life. I love you." She whispered softly. She could not know her Aunt's feelings, nor could she know how at war with herself Vita had been since the tragedy at Renfall and so she could not know how deeply Vita felt those words and how her heart swelled in answer.

Chapter 29

Haroun stooped over the simple table in his Kings room. Life had gotten only slightly more comfortable since they arrived in the city, Haroun had to admit he had missed laying his head on a pillow and not a rolled up blanket. The room was one of the more decorated in the fortress, however it still remained stark in comparison to the rooms in the Crystal Palace, or even Haroun's own home. The fortress had been built to defend, the building was not meant to awe people with its beauty but discourage them with its size. Haroun did not reside within the fortress with the main bulk of their army, he and his men slept in inns and lodgings at the very southern point of the city of Idis. At that moment, all eyes were upon the dark maroon coloured book lay closed on the table. He threw a quizzical glance up to Elmon and then to the Prince, who stood tall yet there was a sad cast to his eyes Haroun had not seen before. He desperately wanted to ask about the Awakening, what had happened deep in the forest which had re-joined the elves blood in song once more. But something about Evindäl's eyes stilled his tongue. He felt Ayred stir beside him, giving his own unease away in the uncharacteristic move. He was always so stoic, unmoving.

"I woke Leontis." Evindäl eventually said, his voice strong but for those closest to him, the emotion behind his words was clear. Haroun heard the knuckles crack on Ayred's hand as he gripped the hilt of his sword. Evindäl traced a finger slowly along the raised golden lettering on the book. My Journey. Another breaths silence and then Evindäl wove his tale. Goddess protect us. Haroun whispered in his mind. A shudder had run through his entire body as he heard of the acts of his once King. Now he understood the sadness which resided deep within Evindäl's young soul. They stood in silence for what felt like an age, only the sound of their breaths filling the air. Finally, when Haroun doubted he could think on the matter any further their king spoke.

"I had a brother and a sister." He whispered, the anguish making his voice crack. "These creatures we fight are our kin." He shook his head as though to dispel the thought. "This is a disgrace to our kind. My father has shamed us all with his lustful actions." A fist banged on the table making them all jump. "I will bring a stop to this madness. Evindäl, I want the knowledge from that book and I wanted it yesterday." His words were said with passion and fervour, rather than flinching from his father's tone Evindäl stood a little straighter and saluted.

"I could not agree more Father." He said, a fire in his eyes so deep Haroun knew this boy would devour the book and pull every scrap of information from it, even if it was the last thing he would do. "We will make this right." Evindäl continued, his gaze taking both Haroun and Ayred's eyes in his own. "Together."

"Together." They all echoed.

"I cannot help but wonder why Leontis has not returned. Now that he knows the extent of his actions, how sorely they have affected us, his family and his people." Haroun voiced, looking around for answers. He never feared reprimand from his king, they had been fierce friends long before Elmon took up his mantle and they would be friends long after. Elmon knew his friend well enough to know he would not make light suggestions nor comments. The Prince cleared his throat nervously, when all eyes returned to him he pushed a hand back through his tousled hair. A small smile touched Haroun's lips at the gesture. His dear girl Ezhra had forever mocked Evindäl for his nervous trait though he had known for many years that she was deeply in love with the Prince.

"He refused to come, our parting words were not kind." Evindäl eventually admitted, but there are no stern words, no reminders of respect for elders. Leontis should have returned. If Haroun has been in Evindäl's place he doubted he would have had one kind thing to say when the old king had turned to return to his Mourning. Evindäl had always been a well behaved and relatively mild natured boy, but the Evindäl before him now was no boy. This man was full of fire and steel, his eyes ablaze with a dedication to succeed, his body like a coiled serpent waiting to strike. It occurred to him with a flash of pride, that their enemy need be afraid this eve. A loud rap against the door drew all of their attention.

"What is it?" The King called out, impatience in his voice. Less than two summers ago Haroun had only had cause to hear that tone on a handful of occasions, but now it seemed to be constant companion to the king. His skin was a little paler and dark circles hung from his eyes. The good Queen Edraele would be here soon, she would no doubt have some choice words to say to Elmon about his health.

"King Franko of Lopal has sent word, he estimates they will be here within half a moon." The messenger said, he looked travel worn, with dust from the road still settled upon his body and hair like a second skin.

"Thank you, feel free to eat and rest before you return. All you need tell your liege is that we eagerly await his arrival." Elmon responded before turning back to his son. Evindäl's face contorted into a picture of hurt, for a moment the reserved boy flashed before Haroun's eyes before once more, the man of steel stood before him. The king's eyes never left his son, but the moment to say something, anything, to ease his suffering passed by in silence and they returned to the mission at hand.

Ezhra glared at the figure approaching in the distance. She, like most elves, had never wanted for more than what she had. Her hearing and eyesight were impeccable; her strength was to be feared. Yet, since the Awakening Ezhra had felt different. Stronger in every sense of the word. Even now, if she closed her eyes and concentrated she thought she could feel Evindäl off to the East. Vita and Aesa had yet to notice the rider, but Ezhra had been watching his approach for nearly an hour. She should have known it wouldn't be so easy. They had left Rhebeth two days ago, without their cart and horses. They had had little choice thanks to the hostile welcome committee, but they were making slow progress. Turning to the others as they set up camp she put her hands on her hips and tried to push the scowl from her face. Ema was using a thick tree trunk as target practice for her knife throwing and even Ezhra had to admit the girl had skill. When Aesa had first woken from her mysterious coma, her reaction had been wholly unexpected. "Perhaps if Arina or Alek had known how to defend themselves they may have survived." She had remarked to her Aunt, leaving Vita utterly speechless. Ezhra had smiled on the inside at Vita's face, but her heart had also bled for Aesa's words. The air about her was damp and she could almost smell the rain which was to come, so they had stopped earlier than usual for the night. Despite the sparse land, with very little to distinguish it but a splattering of trees here and there, Ezhra had discovered a group of trees beside the lake with at least a small amount of shelter. Still, it was going to be a dreary night. Silently, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, Aesa got up and joined Ema, taking her own knife from its sheath, they practised side by side. Aesa was a small woman, reaching only Ezhra's shoulders, therefore Ezhra had shown her friend how to utilise her height and frame to her advantage. Rather than using brute force, she relied upon speed, inviting the opponent in before lashing out. If there was one thing Ezhra knew, people everywhere always underestimated a woman. Whoever was riding toward them was not here by coincidence. With a deep sigh, expelling her breath and her thoughts in one go, Ezhra knew it was time to open up.

"There is something which I have been meaning to tell you all." She spoke eventually, allowing a sigh to escape her lips. Though all of their eyes looked at her quizzically, they all simply nodded their understanding and settled down to hear what she had to say. Vita quickly dished out the soup she had made from dried herbs and rabbit, but the bowls were mainly left untouched as they all waited on Ezhra. Ezhra simply stared down into the food as though in doing so she could pretend she had never uttered a word.

"It will be alright." Ema said kindly. Nodding once, Ezhra began her tale.

"I have spoken to you in passing, of my love, my Evindäl. In truth, to utter the words, to even speak of him has been like a physical pain, however now it is time I took you in my confidence as you have done so to me. He is Prince of this land and since we were children we have been fierce friends." Her eyes misted over as the words floated through the air, she could see his face before her now and she wanted so badly to reach out and touch it. "It was nearing ten years ago when the realisation took us that the love we had borne for each other for so long had not been one of friendship, but one which went much deeper than that, we felt it within our souls." Her voice was low and husky with emotion. "Traditionally speaking, people of my race marry when they are many centuries old. Often, when we lived in the Forest of Myrení, we would Dream of our futures, just in glimpses, barely able to discern information. My Mother has told me how she Dreamt when she was not much older than I am now, of a tall man with dark hair and blue eyes, broad in stature and fierce in nature. She loved him then, before she even knew his name. It took another three centuries for them to find one another. Elves trust in fate and in our Goddess to bring us together when the time is right. I am barely a century old, and yet Evindäl and I knew we had found our soul mates in each other." Ezhra looked up from her soup and into the eyes of the women and the child before her, they would comfort her, she realised now. These strangers from a distant land would be her allies in her heartache and misery. And because of them, she may just be alright. "When we were invaded last year, Evindäl asked me to be his wife. I accepted without hesitation, he would ride to war and I would remain at home. It was only right we say our vows before Aodolys first. Female elves are not permitted in the army so I could not go with him, but this was ok. We thought this way we would at least know our love was recognised before our Goddess and our people. I may even have been blessed with child before he went." Tears filled her eyes and she saw them now not as a sign of weakness but as a symbol of love. "But his father, my King, refused. It was not something we had considered, our parents as close as siblings themselves, even amongst the palace workers it had been believed we would be wed since we were born. Evindäl rode to war not long after, taking my father and four of my brothers with him. I was left behind, a shell of myself, with my grief, my mother and my younger brother. But I was never one to sit back and do nothing. That was when I joined, I braided my hair so that it would hide within my helmet and tunic and I ran from my home to the front line. Without thinking, or announcing myself, I joined one of the advancing platoons. We walked right into a trap laid out by the invaders. My gift of foresight came to me that day, as I stepped over blood and gore, wearing clothes I had stolen from my brother's room. I saw what would happen to my platoon and so I stopped them and using my foresight we slaughtered them instead. I digress I suppose, from the purpose of me telling you this. In short, that day I became a hero and the King granted me pardon for my crime and even allowed me to remain. I think, though I shall never forgive him, that he was offering me an apology, if I couldn't be by Evindäl's side in marriage, then I would fight by his side as his ally." She brushed her fingers across her eyes in an attempt to push away the tears. "Before I met you, on my journey I returned to the palace for an evening. Evindäl was there. He is a great scholar and is searching for a way to stop the Mages from gaining anymore ground, killing anymore innocents. He told me that the reason his father had denied us, was because he had kept Evindäl's hand in marriage to use as a bargaining tool. In order to unite the armies under one rule, he offered Princess Faelyn, Evindäl's younger sister, to Jaxon of the High Council from Camda. And he offered my Evindäl to Princess Irissa of Lopal." The words hung in the air, nobody spoke, they barely even breathed. In Ezhra's mind, she pictured the girl sat atop her throne as Queen Maric froze her long lost sister. Irissa's eyes had seemed bored, barely registering what was going on around her, the only jolt of life Ezhra had seen was when Aesa had stepped forward. All that had been in Irissa's eyes then had been brutal jealousy. Though her heart broke to think of Evindäl marrying another, it hurt all the more knowing he would marry one such as she.

Aesa felt her heart restrict as Ezhra wove her sad tale. To have found love but to not only lose it, but watch your love with another, it was a cruel fate for anyone. But for a woman as whole hearted, courageous and kind as Ezhra, it was beyond cruel. The words hung between them, what was there to say? Her sister was to marry the man her friend loved. The pain and sorrow was etched all over Ezhra's face as she turned away from them, not wanting to bare their scrutiny any further. Aesa suddenly felt ashamed of her own narrow mindedness. She had heard Ezhra mention her love, and now could see clearly how deep her grief struck, but Aesa had not before paid heed to the signs. Ezhra had been nothing but a true and honest friend to them and in return Aesa had been too focussed on her own inner demons she had not recognised those which Ezhra was living with.

"A rider approaches, I am guessing he will inform us he is here on behalf of the King and Queen." She said softly, before getting up and walking away from them. Nobody stopped her. Now she had pointed it out, Aesa was able to make out the lone rider cantering toward them. He had seen their campfire and so was able to locate them easily enough. As he neared and slowed his horse, Ezhra returned from whatever solitude she had sought away from camp.

"I come on behalf of King Franko and Queen Maric. You are to return with me at once and will travel in their company to meet with the rest of the army." The man spoke with a steady voice, but Aesa could see how his hands trembled on the reins, he spoke to all of them but his eyes never left Ezhra. As for the Lady, she simply stared at him with eyes which hinted at nothing of her inner feelings. Eventually, after the silence had stretched on uncomfortably, the young man cleared his throat ready to speak again. Before he had the chance to, Ezhra waved her hands briefly with a flash of irritancy across her otherwise expressionless face and he froze, his face in an odd expression as though he were still trying to speak but was incapable of it. Aesa cocked her head curiously.

"How did you do that?" She asked, guessing that somehow Ezhra had prevented him from moving or speaking.

"Air. Like I did with the Princeling raever, I have cocooned him in it. I cannot leave him there for long as he will likely run out of fresh air and so suffocate. But for the moment he cannot hear us nor can he move."

"Ahh." Aesa replied still staring at the man, her curiosity piqued.

"What do we do?" Vita asked, her eyes tearing away from the rider to Ezhra.

"There is little choice. Unfortunately, I am a Lady of Elindor, for me to refuse them would invite, shall we say, unwelcome and possibly problematic issues going forward. I cannot continue without them and you cannot continue without me." Aesa felt her heart sinking at the thought of facing her mother again. She regretted none of what she had said, but it still did not help the despairing feeling within her. "However, they have requested my presence not yours. I can get around this without you having to deal with them directly." Aesa trusted her friend implicitly and so nodded her assent. Within moments, the rider was released and returned with a message. Ezhra had in no simpler terms told him, that if the King or Queen of anywhere deemed it appropriate to make demands of her like she was a common servant, then that person would have to learn some bloody manners before speaking with a Lady of the Elindor court again. And so, as a goodwill gesture, she offered that she would wait where the rider left them for the rest of the travellers to catch up. Giving the King or Queen plenty of time to learn said manners. The rider had left red faced and terrified, the rest of them had been left laughing at Ezhra's pompous attitude.

"Well someone has to put them in their place!" She exclaimed haughtily after the rider had gone, before throwing them all a wicked grin.

Ezhra offered to take first watch that night and Aesa knew she was too deep within her own thoughts to sleep and so offered to take second. Her own dreams were filled with pain, red hot flames reached out to lick at her skin, deep in the flickering fires she could see her mother's face laughing back at her as her children screamed for help. Finally, she woke with a start, almost crying out in panic. But as her hands reached down and touched the cold ground she felt herself returning to reality. The sky was still dark, but Aesa could feel morning was not far off. Quietly, she pulled herself out of her bed roll and went to sit with Ezhra who stared off into the distance nearby. She planned on chastising her for not waking any of them for their shifts, but as she neared and saw the droop in Ezhra's otherwise proud shoulders, she could not bring herself to do it.

"Morning." Ezhra said softly just as the first rays of sunlight burst across the horizon in a truly breathtaking display.

"And to you." Aesa replied, sitting beside her. "You didn't wake me." It was a statement not a question, but Ezhra responded anyway.

"I wouldn't be able to sleep." She shrugged. "Not to worry. I had time to think. About happier times. I find it healthy to do that sometimes, you know?" She looked up into Aesa's eyes as she finished and in that moment, Aesa felt all she could do was lie.

"Yes. Often." But for her, the happy memories were gone, burnt to ashes with the bodies of her family. There were no happy memories anymore, only bleak ones. Only regrets. Why had she not stayed behind? Why did she not take them with her? If only she had spent just a moment more cherishing them, waking her children to say goodbye and not just kissing their sleeping heads. But Ezhra seemed to swallow her lie and smiled in thanks.

"He loves to dance, Mëi paratr, I wonder if she will dance with him?" For a moment, Aesa did not think Ezhra had meant to speak allowed, whether she had or not, there was little Aesa could say.

"Mëi paratr?" She asked instead.

"In the Old Tongue of my people, it means my heart."

"This is not your language?" Ezhra shook her head, a wistful look upon her face.

"My language is a beautiful and magical thing. I shall teach you some, if you like?" A small flutter of excitement shimmered through Aesa at the prospect and she couldn't help but be grateful. "Seems you and I were destined to try and offer each other glimmers of happiness in an otherwise desolate place." Ezhra said morbidly, though Aesa knew she had meant the words well. Normally so spirited and full of life, Aesa was beginning to see the cracks in the armour her friend wore.

"Yes. But I am glad you told us about him, I will be glad to meet someone so worthy of your love."

"Mehémëi." Ezhra said smiling, Aesa raised an eyebrow questioningly. "It means greetings; it is polite amongst elves to say this as we see each other. You pronounce it, meh-hee-may." Aesa tried it, the words sounding funny on her tongue, but she couldn't help but agree with Ezhra that it was a beautiful language. As they sat and waited, Ezhra claiming they would be with the royals by midday, Aesa spent her time practising her Ability and the Old Tongue.

As the sun reached its peak in its journey through the sky, the royal guard and their lieges arrived. Not a large retinue, with forty guards, the three royals themselves and a handful of servants, there were three carriages and a handful of extra horses. The whole procession came to a standstill and the royal family stepped out of their carriage. Queen Maric and Princess Irissa wore full skirts, both in colours of deep blue. They needed a small step to help them climb down. It took all of her restraint to stop from shaking her head.

"Lady Ezhra'lí. May I present King Franko, Queen Maric and the Princess Irissa." One of their servants, dressed almost as pompously as the rest of them said extending a small bow to her. She inclined her head slightly, showing the appropriate amount of respect, though not an inch more. She coupled it with a small smile, though it was a predatory one.

"I am honoured to travel with you. As a representative of the Elindor court I shall journey with you, my companions will keep up and they will remain out of your way. I am their guide in these strange lands, and as they were first welcomed into Elindor it is my duty to protect them. I pray you will understand that?" Her words were short and to the point. They may be able to command her under the thin alliance between lands, but the women she travelled with were not of either land and so had no lord to bow down to. Maric's eyes narrowed in anger as she looked at her sister and daughter stood in the distance but they all knew Ezhra had them in a fix.

"Very well Lady." Franko eventually said when his wife remained silent. "Would you care to join us in the carriage?"

"I would prefer to travel on my feet sire, if you don't mind?" He was startled by her response, but it was Irissa who spoke up.

"On your feet? It is a two week trip, you could not possibly expect to keep up." Her voice dripped contempt.

"On the contrary Princess, I doubt that you shall keep up with me." Before they could dismiss her she turned on her heel and walked away. She could hear the King comforting his daughter after she had been so 'rudely spoken to'. A small smile of victory spread on her face, though she knew in the end, she had already lost.

Chapter 30

Raken rubbed his thumb along the cool gold medallion he wore at his throat. The embellishment was the symbol of his people and his religion, paying respect to the Gods. The seamless cycle symbolised life for the Mage and their holy mission. Immortality. Having witnessed the elves of this land fight, he knew that he was one step closer than his fellow Triad. It was nearing midnight on the eighth day and so he must prepare for his meeting. Dismissing all of his Guardians, he went about protecting his tent from prying ears. It would not do to have others listening in whilst he convened with the others. Once he was done Raken pulled the medallion from his neck and held it out in both hands. In the wavering light of the candles he called upon his birth right which surged through his blood, reaching to the magic deep within the ancient medallion.

"Hestar kalai esrael." He whispered. The room chilled instantly, though he did not fear it, for he was no longer there. His body may reside where the medallion was, but Raken's spirit soared beyond that realm, joining the others in a place no other could trespass.

"Welcome brother." The other Triad spoke softly and he nodded in greeting. When he had first risen to his position, the Priest of the fire had brought him to this place, where all you could see were clouds. The Priest had explained that this was the realm of the dragons and only those of dragon blood could return. Even now, nearly two decades later, Raken could not help his eyes wandering through the ever changing clouds beneath his feet. Sida's eyes narrowed as she watched him approach, she was the youngest of them, the least experienced. Her determination to prove herself as worthy was ruthless. He was both proud to have mentored her and wary of her gaining too much power.

"Are you hurt?" She asked sharply, seeing the slightest change in his walk. Perceptive and powerful, Sida had been born to be Triad. He waved off her concerns.

"Nothing to worry about, a light scratch." It was more than a scratch, he had taken an arrow in the leg, it had buried itself so deep in his thigh they had had to cut it out of him. The pain was a minor thing; he had dealt with pain before. He was angrier that he had been hit. "And you, how goes your conquest?" She grinned wickedly.

"These creatures die easily. Our siege of Jacoby shall not last much longer. I estimate I will be dining at the human Kings table within the moon." When Sida had first arrived at the Palace she was barely thirteen years. Relatively young to be chosen for succession, but her power was undeniable and the Fire Priests had wanted her to begin training. Nearly a decade had gone by since then, there was a time not five years ago where he had thought he was in love with her. With dark, olive coloured skin soft to touch, covering hard muscles and icy resolve. She had proud cheekbones and a high forehead, her large doe eyes were chocolate brown in colour and gave her a hint of innocence in an otherwise hauntingly beautiful face. They had lain together often and even now he could remember her long shapely legs draped over him in sleep.

"Raken." Vigo shot, drawing attention away from the lustful memories. "Have you made progress yet with the heathens?" Vigo was the Triad who had elected to stay behind, he was old and fat and Raken despised him.

"We have forced them back, though they had prepared for it and are holding us at a defendable position, I judge it may take us another moon to get through their defences. I will continue needing reinforcements, these elf creatures do not die easily."

"Very well. I have everything prepared here. Reinforcements will continue as will the supply chain, if there is nothing else, I will see you both in eight days." Vigo spoke in a lazy drawl which grated Raken, but he smiled politely and inclined his head before watching as the old man grew hazy before disappearing altogether.

"I hate that man. Even his voice irritates me." Sida said, her brows drawn together in a scowl. She pulled her eyes back to Raken and looked him up and down in a way that caused his trousers to tighten. "But I have missed you dear Raken." He couldn't help but smile, it was lust and admiration he felt for her, not love. But it was those emotions which fed Sida he knew. In the blink of an eye, she had changed her appearance. She no longer stood in the tough leather armour with her mane of black glossy hair pulled into a tail to show off the shaved sides, now she wore a simple cream dress, with golden braids holding it up from one shoulder and tightening it around her narrow waist.

"You wasted no time." He remarked, stepping closer and sliding his fingers along her rounded hips. She smiled up at him through thick eyelashes, her eyes predatory.

"You know me. I live for the moment. I am just glad he did not drag this meeting on for hours like he did last time." She ran a black lacquered nail up his arm, drawing a line of blood and sending a shiver of delight down his spine.

"The medallion draws on his power, he does not like to feel weak, especially not before us." She stared at the spot Vigo had stood not moments before in disgust.

"How did he ever become Triad?" She muttered before turning her attentions back to him. "I intend to ensure you return tired from other means." She whispered.

Ezhra jogged ahead of the carriages, beside her friends. They had been travelling at a steady pace for four days and as promised, Ezhra had not only kept up but pushed them all to quicken the pace. She was eager to join the battle, could feel the hunger for it deep within.

"Mehémëi Mhkai-ar Elmon Mhrate-ar Evindäl." Aesa whispered beside her, her grasp on the words was excellent and her annunciation improving with practice. She grinned.

"I can't wait to see their faces when they hear you speak in the Old Tongue!" She exclaimed laughing.

"All will be well so long as they don't speak back. As quick a study as you say we are, I doubt we could keep up with a conversation!" Vita replied, though Ezhra could see pride in her eyes. Hearing a horse approaching, Ezhra turned her head, it was the pompous servant, she shot him her best predatory grin and was delighted when he pulled on the reigns slightly, unsure whether to approach.

"Lady Ezhra'lí the Princess grows weary, we shall be stopping shortly." He informed her, his nose firmly in the air though his eyes bore his fear.

"Well I could keep going for another few hours but if the Princess is tired from her hard day we will be sure to stop!" She called back, unable to stop herself. As he rode away again Vita shot Ezhra a look. "What?" She asked innocently. "He turns such a funny shade of purple I can't bloody help myself! It goes against nature." They set up camp before the sun began to set, Ezhra and her friends built a campfire away from the rest of the group. None of the royal family stepped out of their carriage, though when one of the servants took their meal to them, Ezhra heard Irissa's petulant voice complaining to her father that the dust from the road was messing with her hair. It was one of the few differences between Irissa and her half-sister Aesa. Facially, they were very similar and it would be easy to think they came from the same two parents. But where Aesa had unruly curly dark hair, Irissa had wavy blond hair, every strand was immaculate. Already she could see the girl had more curves than Ezhra. Gritting her teeth she poked a stick into the flames.

"Well aren't you cheery this evening." A friendly voice called out and Ezhra couldn't help the smile from spreading across her face.

"Finally getting back to the action?" She said back looking up to see Rarin approaching. His white teeth dazzled in the moonlight from his olive coloured face. He greeted the others.

"Quite an entrance you made back there." He said. "Sorry I haven't been able to talk until now. And sorry that I couldn't help."

"No apology needed, though I know you will insist so consider it accepted." The others nodded along with her, Ema bringing him a bowl of stew and a spoon.

"Thank you child!" He said, one of his large hands easily wrapping around the bowl. After they had eaten in silence, he looked at Ezhra grinning. "We haven't sparred in a while!" He exclaimed, his deep voice carrying easily around the whole camp.

"Last time I nearly broke your arm!" She replied dubiously.

"Minor injury!" He exclaimed waving one meaty hand as though to dispel the memory. "Come now, if I am to return to the fight I would like to be at my best!" They had only met six moons before, but had become fierce friends. She knew he only wanted another chance to best her, but went along with it anyway, she could use the practice. Rarin was one of the few humans who she would spar with, his incredible strength and size meant he was a decent opponent. By the time he had returned with two wooden sparring swords, there was an audience gathering. Most of the guards who were not on duty and of course Vita, Aesa and Ema, all circled her to watch. As they stood opposite each other within the ring of spectators, Ezhra took one deep breath and pushed all thoughts from her mind. There was no longer anyone but Rarin and her. She could hear the dirt shifting beneath his feet, the slight thud of his heart as he prepared for the fight. His huge muscles were intimidating to most people but she was unafraid. He was a skilled fighter, but he always attacked first. All she need do was wait. It did not take long before he took two large steps and lunged at her, though she was nearing six feet in height, he still held a good four inches more than her, his reach was longer but she was always faster. As quick as a flash, Ezhra side stepped, his sword whistling past her chest, as she moved she brought her own sword up and spun around, planning on hitting him across the back as he continued moving forward from the momentum of his first lunge, but he anticipated her. Rarin ducked and rolled away at the last moment, her sword cutting through air. Ezhra grinned at her prey and attacked, their wooden swords clashing together fiercely, loud bangs echoing through the clearing. Every one of his thrusts and swipes she parried until she saw sweat dripping from his forehead and a slight shift in his stance informed her he was tiring. Throwing more effort into her swings she pushed at him, forcing him to give up more and more ground until his back was nearly against a tree, with a loud cry she swung her sword up high, planning on bringing it down and hitting him on the head. As her body was fully stretched, Rarin took the opportunity to push his back against the tree and kick with both legs full into her stomach, the force of the blow sending her flying back across the clearing. Before she hit the ground hard, Ezhra stretched her body out lithely, forcing her head and outstretched arms back further, so that her hands hit the ground first, using the momentum she had gained from the kick, she pushed off from the ground spinning her legs over her body until she landed in a crouch on her feet. Rarin was taking deep breaths, one hand on the side she had hit him not long before, in his moment of weakness she leapt the distance, bringing her sword around so that it rested next to his neck. He swore loudly, though he grinned at her. All around them sounds came crashing back to her ears, clapping, laughing and talking, she even heard Vita demanding her winnings from a bet she had placed with one of the guards. Stepping away, she let out a loud laugh.

"How long this time do you reckon?" She asked, in the past when sparring, both of them had been ignorant of the passing of time around them. He looked up at the now entirely dark sky.

"Couple of hours maybe. Think I'm getting better!" He exclaimed. And she clapped him on the back nodding.

Ayred crossed his arms and stared at his father. The eldest of Haroun's children was nearly three hundred years old and looked so like his father that the few who did not know their family often mistook the two for brothers. At this moment King Elmon couldn't help but feel the remark was true. Father and son stared each other down in a silent battle of wills. Identical stern expressions upon their faces finally gave way to softened eyes and grim smiles.

"He is qualified." Haroun finally agreed and Elmon clapped his hands together. He had commissioned a group to journey to the Dragons Teeth with the mission to sabotage supply wagons before they could reach the Svet Mage's. When he had first spoken of his plan Ayred had quietly muttered Elion's name. Elmon understood Ayred's concern, Elion was his little brother and he knew that the mission was to be a dangerous one. Only ten elves would be sent to take on whatever Svet sent through the mountains. But Elion was a natural choice. He needed stealth, intelligence, bravery. And he needed someone who knew well how to traverse rocky terrain. Elion had been raised at the feet of a mountain, he had grown up climbing the rocky walls and learning how best to survive in the shadow of that mountain. Not to mention he had a flare for wreaking havoc.

"The men will be proud to have a Lucianno with them Haroun." He meant what he said, though Elion was not experienced enough to lead the group he would be a great asset in bolstering pride. The Lucianno family had earned the respect of all for many millennia with their bravery and their kind natures. Elmon's own heart was heavy sending men to this job but war was filled with necessities and he was the one to administer them. He clapped his hands again. "So tis decided. Erics shall lead them and we have our final ten men." Haroun and Ayred nodded.

"Father." Ayred said quietly. "You know if we did not ask Elion to go he would have volunteered, he was raised for this job." Elmon's closest friend smiled sadly.

"You're right. The lad will make us proud, I know it." Haroun said gripping his sons forearm.

"To the brave." Elmon said raising his mug.

"The brave." Ayred and Haroun responded raising their own. A loud knock on the door halted further conversation, Elmon called out for them to enter and one of the messengers entered followed by a burly man with a deep seated scowl on his dirty face.

"My Lords, a message from Lady Ezhra'lí, carried by Mister Liam sirs."

"Come in, sit down. Son get this man some hot food and ale." Elmon cried, beckoning with his hands. The man dropped down into the offered seat at the table, utter exhaustion etched across his travel worn face. He was silent for an age and fear clutched at Elmon's heart. It was Haroun who broke the silence.

"Whatever word you have from my daughter I would appreciate hearing it man." He spoke sharply but they could all hear the tenderness in his voice. Even this new fellow looked at them sadly, nodding his understanding.

"My apologies lords. I came with a message but first I sought out my brother and nephew. My nephew has fallen. I had hoped I may be able to offer myself in his place." His voice broke as he spoke and Elmon laid a large hand on his shoulder.

"Your loss shall not be in vain." Ayred spoke before Elmon got the chance, but the King was grateful.

"Aye. I don't doubt that. Lady Ezhra sent me with a message and a, well a gift. My nephew's village was attacked. A man with a tongue streaked in gold arrived spouting words of hate about Weavers. It took barely two days before half the village went crazed. A bloodbath ensued where many of the people were left dead. My niece included." Liam went on to explain of Ezhra's arrival in Shadow Hill and the subsequent battle fought there. When he finished speaking he threw a small bag onto the table. It was Haroun who picked it up and shook the contents out onto the table. A severed tongue laced with veins of gold landed before them. "Ezhra bid me bring you this token. She hopes we may be able to see how the magic worked. The man she fought was no Mage, he was created." Yet another silence hung in the air as all the men mulled over what they had learnt. It was Haroun who spoke once more.

"Bloody brilliant." He muttered.

Aesa closed her eyes and thought of Ema's face. She thought of how the little girl smiled at the moments when Aesa needed her most, of how despite everything she still lived for each day. She opened her eyes slowly and saw the flames wrapping her arm lovingly. A clap broke her concentration and the flames disappeared. Her mother stepped out from behind a tree.

"It may have escaped your notice your majesty, but I came away from camp so as to practice. Alone." Aesa said pointedly, turning to move away.

"At the palace, you used ice." Maric spoke softly, not moving from her spot, a curious look in her eyes. Her voice was just how Aesa remembered it, silken. It tugged at her heart strings.

"Yes." Aesa replied not knowing what else to say, she remained cautious of Maric's intentions.

"You have been practising for a while. I have watched you each night step away. But you never touch on ice. Why is that?" Aesa paused, as much thinking of an answer than in her caution to watch her words around the Queen. She supposed honesty would not do any harm here.

"I do not know how. Aunt Vita knows only how to coax the flames not the ice."

"Your Aunt, she once told me that she thought of love when she needed warmth." Aesa nodded that it was so for her also. "I never told her, for in truth I was ashamed. My own power comes from the opposite. Hate, anger. Since arriving in Elindor I have found I have more of that in my heart than ever before, I have become more powerful than I ever deemed possible in Renfall." It was the first time Aesa had heard her mother openly speak of the past in such a way and she remained silent, not wanting to break the spell. Maric walked closer, her eyes flitting around not fixating on any point. "I fear that I allowed so much hate into my heart it shall be frozen forever. Not even a child could thaw it." At the mention of her sister Aesa felt her own anger take hold.

"You turned your daughter into a spiteful girl your majesty. So congratulations, you can live your life knowing you ruined both your children's lives with your frozen heart." She snarled, spinning and stalking away.

"Wait!" Maric called, though Aesa paused she did not turn. "I would like you all to dine with us this eve. You are right about my children, but you are still sisters. It is not her fault she was born to another."

"I shall attend. But you should know that nor was it my fault I was born to a man whose love turned to hate and whose once warm hugs turned to beatings. If your intention is to gain forgiveness, I do not think that shall ever come to pass."

"Very well. But I would like you and Irissa to at least talk to one another." Aesa nodded once and walked away. Her heart pounded and she still felt the residue of anger clinging to her heart. She welcomed it, invited the hate which burned through her constantly, focusing the emotions she looked down at the blue tipped fingers and the crystallising ice splitting across her forearm.

Chapter 31

Katsa knelt on the floor, ignoring the dull ache in her legs. It had been many hours since she last moved and she wished for release, but Raken liked to keep her close. Especially when he had guests. Priest Halok held out his goblet and another Guardian rushed forward to pour red wine. Raken reached out and speared a chicken leg with his knife. All of the food upon the table made Katsa's stomach rumble. She kept her eyes low and tried to avoid thinking of the smells which wafted by her nose. The Priest always gave her the creeps, though she would never admit that to another. His eyes often gazed at her with such longing she was surprised Halok had never asked Master for her services. Katsa was wearing nothing but an all in one outfit of ivory silk which was so see through she knew there was no real point in wearing anything at all. Halok's gaze stared at her even more than usual. The men had talked for a number of hours on the war, how close they were to breaking the allied armies.

"Now my dear Halok. Tell me how goes your experiments?" Raken asked, running a hand along the mane of hair which fell over his shoulders. The movement made Katsa smile, she truly loved Masters hair.

"Well Triad Raken. Very well indeed, it shall not be long now."

"Good. I tire of this war and Sida's gloating. She has met little resistance. I want what we came here for."

"You shall have it my lord Triad, patience is all I ask." Priest Halok spoke with respect but Katsa heard a note of derision in his tone, she could not help shooting him a glare. He smiled at her, his old face sunken like a decrepit body not finished decaying. She shuddered.

"Katsa!" Master exclaimed, shame deep in his voice and in the burn in his cheeks. "You disrespect me with your rudeness."

"I am so sorry Master. I am merely cold." She grovelled, prostrating herself on the floor.

"Go wait in the bed chamber. I am ashamed to look upon you." She did so quickly, tears filling her eyes to have brought disappointment to her Master. She heard him apologising to the Priest. Triad's were the rightful leaders of all Svetian's, but she knew that the Red Priests held a tremendous amount of power. Priest Halok brushed aside Raken's concern and made his leave. Katsa waited, kneeling at the foot of the bed. A shadow appeared by her feet and she glanced up at Raken's towering form. She did not speak, afraid to make his ire worse. His fingers wrapped in her hair, yanking her head back. "How dare you embarrass me before a guest. You need remember your place." He seethed, his eyes flashing dangerously. She knew deep down in her shaking limbs, that she had gone too far. He threw her back on the bed so hard she cried out. Shame and heart ache filled her as he punished her.

Ezhra pulled the leather thong holding her braid in place out and pulled her fingers through the length of her hair.

"You have really pretty hair." Ema said beside her.

"Thank you child." She replied quietly, pulling her golden red locks so that they spilled over her shoulders and reached the floor. As her fingers pulled out any knots in her wavy hair, Ezhra thought of the times she had prayed to the Goddess for dark hair. In her youth she would look at Faelyn's raven coloured locks and feel jealousy. On a visit to the palace with her whole family, she had watched with envy as Evindäl had complimented the baker's daughter on her lovely hair, it had been chestnut in colour and fell in ringlets. Without truly understanding her motives at the time, she had decided it was a good idea to rub her hands through mud and coat her hair in it. She could still hear the taunting laughter of her brothers; see the amused look on her father's face. Shivering she also could still feel the cold of the bath her mother had ordered, demanding it not be heated before she had scrubbed the mud away herself. None of them had understood, even to this day nobody really fathomed how it felt for her, to have a girlish figure, a face young still even by elven standards, yet to be so old in her thoughts. She had run to a secluded cove by the lake to escape the mirth of her family, but Evindäl had found her. As they lay on the ground staring up at the clouds, he had asked her why she had thought to try and change her hair. "I want to be beautiful." She had replied honestly. Turning to face her, resting his face on the palms of his hand, Evindäl had looked deep into her eyes.

"You are the most beautiful creature I ever beheld. You hair is a symbol, of your strength and beauty, only one truly blessed by the Goddess could hold such golden hair, so similar to the sun in colour it is like you were kissed by one of her rays." Her heart had swelled even then, though neither of them had fully understood the emotions stirring within. From that day, she had never cut her hair more than a small trim. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine his long fingers sliding through the locks, his strong palm running from the top of her head down the length of her hair. Her heart constricted, her stomach clenched. Would the pain ever go away? She mused. But she already knew the answer.

"Shall we get this over with?" Vita asked, pulling herself up on her canes. Even now after all this time travelling together Ezhra couldn't help but marvel at the strength of the woman. She nodded, deciding to keep her hair loose. For dinner with a royal she should really be wearing something more appropriate but there was nothing in her saddlebag to prepare for this; so instead she had put on a clean pair of leather leggings, pulled on her black boots and a dark green tunic. In an attempt to dress appropriately, she drew on her coat, having scrubbed it clean the dark green velvet material looked acceptable, the simple brass buttons helped to clinch the coat in at her waist, defining what curves she had. Even so, looking down at herself she knew it was not enough, her mother would be disappointed. Still, it wasn't like there was a local seamstress she could visit. Aesa and Vita seemed to share her misgivings on the dinner, though still travel worn, all of them looked better than they had in weeks.

"Maybe we should go for dinner with royals more bloody often." Vita remarked looking them all over. So together, the four of them entered the opulent carriage, complete with gold gilding upon the doors, where they would be spending an awkward evening with a crazy woman, an idiotic King and a petulant Princess. Brilliant.

The evening went as Ezhra expected, they ate a rather delicious meal for travel food, over hesitant conversation. Irissa shot glares across the table at her sister who so captivated her mother's attention, Vita glanced nervously at her sister and the King tried to make small talk. Despite her dislike of his beliefs and strategies as a King, Ezhra had to concede that without him the evening would have gone a lot worse. They danced around the topic of how Vita, Aesa and Ema had come to be here, until Maric asked a question which must have been troubling her.

"Without meaning to come across rude." She said, though her tone was still filled with the typical hint that she was unaccustomed to apologising. "But how is it the child has come to be your travelling companion? She calls you Aunt. Did your father remarry?" Her blue eyes were still ice, though they looked both at Vita and Aesa questioningly. Aesa and Vita looked to each other, neither really knowing how to respond without bringing up hurtful thoughts.

"My ma is Aunt Aesa's best friend. Ma always says they are like sisters." Ema answered, tears springing to her young eyes. "She died you know, with everyone else. Ma and my dad, Luca and Nora. But Aunt Aesa and Aunt Vita look after me." Ezhra's throat burned with tears wanting to be spilled for the innocence of this small and wonderful child. Even Irissa looked sad as she listened to Ema. "You should be proud of them both. I'd be dead if they hadn't come back for me. You shouldn't have tried to hurt Aunt Vita." By the end of her sentence she was barely whispering, but they all heard. Maric's eyes narrowed and the sympathy that had been there, if only for a moment, was gone.

"You don't know what you talk of child. To be torn from everything you ever knew, thrust into a new world and a new life, never seeing your family again."

"Don't talk to her like that." Ezhra snapped, unable to stop herself. "Were you not listening to a word she just said? Her parents died Maric, her brother and sister are gone. She's here, in a new world with magic creatures and war and death and danger. By the Goddess you are so bloody up yourself!" It wasn't her most eloquent of speeches, but she still felt a small swell of pride as her friends smiled appreciatively. Nobody spoke, the words hung between them in the air as one of the servers brought the third and final course, a selection of fruits dipped in sugar. Simple but still a treat after so long on the road. The fruits tasted sour on her tongue. No doubt wanting to do anything to dispel the tension which clung to the room, Vita asked what the whole family were doing travelling to the war. As soon as the words were out, Ezhra felt more than saw the smug grin stretch across Irissa's face.

"For my wedding. I am to marry the Prince Evindäl. I believe he is a good friend of yours Ezhra'lí?" Ezhra couldn't bring her eyes away from the food before her, couldn't stand to look the Princess in the face.

"Yes Princess. He is. And if you don't mind, it is Lady Ezhra'lí." It was a tiny effort to return some power to herself, though she knew it fell short. Thankfully, they were at the end of the dinner and so there was no reason for them to stay even a moment longer. Maric and Franko exited first, returning to their sleeping carriage, Irissa hung back as the others got ready to leave.

"Remember yourself Lady Ezhra'lí." Irissa whispered, contempt dripping from every word. "I am soon to be your Princess. You shall bow down to me as I marry the man you love. You shall answer to me as I bed your man. You think I do not know just how good a friend you were to him? Well all that is about to change. I hope you have said your goodbyes. Your time is over." Her words sickened Ezhra, her stomach roiled at the very idea of someone as young as this saying such hateful things, or this spoilt child marrying her Evindäl. She wanted to scream that he was too good for her, that Irissa would never ever be worthy of him, but when she opened her mouth no words came out. Tears sprung to her eyes which she tried to fight down but could not. Instead she threw the door open and stormed from the carriage, moving as fast as she could. Sobs wracked her body in trembles. Her heart felt sick, her head spun. All she could think was that she had to get away. She knew that nearby was a quiet and isolated lake, she had wanted to visit but hadn't planned on it being like this. Before she stepped through the thick trees which protected the mystical lake from view, she paused, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. Taking three big gulps of air and counting to ten, she was able to stop crying. Even stepping through the trees in utter silence she still felt like the sound of her heart beating and the slight crunch as her feet moved over the gravel, was a desecration to the place. The sounds of the camp were distant now, as though those there spoke in whispers, in reverence to the lake. Beauty filled her eyes, as they drank in the wondrous sight. Fealos the moon reflected in the still waters, at the opposite side of the lake to where she stood were four small waterfalls, the rocks covered in green moss as the water cascaded over them in natural beauty. Though her heart was still heavy, she allowed herself a small smile as she pulled her boots off and sat at the edge of the water, trailing her feet through the cool water. She had wanted to come here as it was the home of the water nymphs, it was a rare thing indeed to behold a nymph, but she had hoped she may be so lucky. Irissa's words tumbled around in her head until that was all she could think of. She knew there was nothing she could do, no hope of her stopping the wedding, no hope of soothing her aching heart. Evindäl's face appeared in her mind, every stroke of his face, the slight curl in his hair, the golden flecks through his hazel eyes. She closed her eyes, wanting this to be her only vision. Her mind automatically taking her to one of the happiest days of her life. She stood in the cove that had come to be theirs, the water of the lake gently lapping against the sand in the wind. Other than the sounds of the city were in the distance, it was just the two of them. Ezhra wore a ball gown and she kept tugging on the material uncomfortably. She had always hated dresses, they felt restrictive, stifling. Evindäl laughed lazily behind her, perched upon one of the rocks with one leg bent and the other stretched out before him.

"You look lovely Ezhra." He said through his smile. She hadn't felt lovely, she felt awkward, her hair pulled into a selection of pins which hurt her head, the dress determined to take the breath from her lungs. The sun was setting, and she knew with its descent she came closer to having to go to the party. Evindäl looked effortlessly handsome as usual, his green tunic bringing out the green flecks of his eyes, the golden thread about his wrists had been sewn in the shape of scrolls, true to his nature.

"I bloody don't. I feel like a fool. You know I will fall, I will trip on this ghastly dress."

"The dress is not ghastly, it is beautiful." She supposed it was, maroon in colour the corset top was pulled in at the back with black ribbon, the dress flowed over her narrow hips and cascaded to the floor in silken waves. A small black veil clipped to her head cast a shadow over her eyes.

"Yes but it's not me." She muttered angrily. He had jumped up, coming to stand beside her.

"Sure it is, you have many sides Ezhra, you need not focus on just one." She had always been stubborn, Evindäl was one of the few people who could talk her into doing things she didn't want to do. "Come, I will practice with you for a time before we must attend the ball." She had looked up at him shyly.

"Must I go?"

"It is held in your honour. You are coming of age!" It was a tradition for elves to hold a celebration at their eightieth birthing day, it was the time when elves reached maturity, after which their aging would slow right down. She looked down at herself angrily. She had so hoped she would mature further before this day came. As she looked down at her body, Evindäl had touched one of his hands to her hip, using the other to clasp her hand, he pulled her close to him. As he starting moving his feet, dancing to no music, she relaxed in his embrace. His hands were strong, she knew that with him, she would not fall. As they danced slowly, moving closer together, Ezhra's heart began to beat faster, her senses so suddenly filled with Evindäl. All she saw was his eyes, every unusual colour running through them, his disarming smile. All she felt were his hands upon her body, rooting her to the spot, the strength in his lean muscles. Taking a deep breath, she smelt the scent of spring. They had not spoken a word, neither having realised they had stopped dancing, Evindäl had looked at her as though she were the only thing in the world and in that moment it had felt as though they were. Then his lips had found hers, their mouths fitting together so naturally it was as though they had been born for each other. It had been a passionate kiss, full of love that had been bursting from them both over the years. When he had pulled away she had no breath, no words. Opening her eyes, Ezhra found herself once again looking at the lake, still no water nymphs, the only company she had was the memories of what was. Even now, she felt his lips upon hers, could remember how they danced with no music playing.

"You grieve." A soft voice spoke near her, it sounded like running water and innocence. Startled, for it was no easy feat sneaking up on an elf, she looked down at the figure in the water below. A beautiful creature, elf like in its features, though smaller than the average human, she was breathtaking. The hair which grew from her head and spilled into the lake below was running water, clear with shimmers of blue tracing through it. Ezhra had never seen anything so spectacular.

"Yes." She whispered her voice hoarse. The nymph cocked her head slightly, the water hair shifting and moving as though they were normal locks of hair.

"I am named Maira. The nymphs welcome all of your kind with open arms."

"Thank you Maira. My name is Ezhra'lí, though my friends call me Ezhra."

"As the water from your eyes ran down to the water of my lake, I sensed great pain within you. It is what has brought me to you." Maira said.

"I am sorry, for disturbing you." Maira shook her head.

"I have come seeking to help. I sense too much heartache in this world."

"I thank you for the offer, but I grieve for the man I love is to marry another. Their union could help win the war that rages against my home. There is nothing I can do." Maira looked at her sadly and nodded.

"Perhaps not. Your mind was elsewhere." Though it was not a question, Ezhra heard the query in the tone.

"I was thinking of the first time I kissed him, his name is Evindäl." Maira remained quiet for a time, Ezhra didn't mind, she still felt the nymphs present comforting. Suddenly, one of Maira's slightly webbed hands reached up to her, as her shoulders rose out of the water, Ezhra could see that the nymph wore no clothes, though why that surprised her she did not know.

"A gift I shall give you. Even here, your bravery is known." Ezhra took the offered hand, which was damp but soft.

"What now?" She asked.

"You walk." Ezhra looked down distrustfully.

"You mean swim? I really don't fancy getting my clothes wet." Maira laughed, it was as beautiful as the rest of her and echoed around the rocks.

"If you were to swim I would have said you swim." She pointed out, pulling slightly on Ezhra's hand. Figuring she had nothing to lose, she stood, wholly expecting to drop straight into the water below. Maira had risen out of the water so as to keep hold of her hand, and her hair flowed longer now, covering her modesty in place of clothes. Ezhra looked down incredulously. Her bare feet stood atop the water as though it were firm ground. She took first one slow step, then another. A burst of delighted laughter rang out and soon they were running across the lake, hand in hand, revelling in each other's joy. As they swept across the lake, Ezhra's hair streamed out behind her, she felt truly free.

Aesa had overheard Irissa's cruel words to Ezhra. It pained her a great deal to know she was kin to the child with the sharp tongue. Initially, she had not wanted to disturb Ezhra in her grieving, but as the night wore on and the elf still did not return to camp concern began to take over. She knew that Vita felt it too for neither of them slept. Finally, Aesa had made the decision to go looking for her friend. She said nothing to Aunt Vita, but as usual her Aunt seemed to know what she was up to and nodded her agreement. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, glad that the moon was bright this eve, Ezhra moved so lightly that she left barely a mark of her passing, but knowing that Ezhra was the only one to have moved this way Aesa was able to follow the markings. As she drew closer, she could hear what sounded like light laughter nearby, less wary she walked through the dense copse of trees and shrubbery to the sound of Ezhra's laughter. As soon as she was clear and looking directly out onto the beautiful lake, she stopped in her tracks, her mouth agape. Ezhra waved at her from where she stood in the centre, holding the hand of a small naked woman with flowing water in place of hair. The water streaming from the woman's head ran freely and smoothly and though one of the most bizarre things Aesa had ever witnessed, it was also one of the most incredible. The two women made their way to where she stood, their movements fluid and graceful.

"Maira, this is my friend Aesa. Aesa this is Maira, she is a water nymph." Ezhra answered the unspoken question on her face.

"Pleased to meet you." Maira inclined her head and Aesa couldn't help noticing how the water continued to flow, feeding the lake below.

"Excuse me, I do not mean to stare." She whispered. Maira did not respond, but she smiled warmly pulling a hand through her hair, showing Aesa more of how the water continued to run as though it were running over and through the rocks of the waterfall and not through the webbed fingers of a nymph.

"The time has come when I must return to the depths below."

"Thank you Maira. You have given me a truly wonderful gift this eve." Ezhra said stepping up onto firm ground next to Aesa. Maira inclined her head once more. But as she released Ezhra's hand, a frown twisted her eerily beautiful face.

"Another gift I must grant you Ezhrahar." Maira spoke, Aesa knew from her lessons that she had called Ezhra elf in the Old Tongue.

"You have given me enough friend."

"This you must take. One day you shall be in need." Maira reached out to the leafy plant living on the shore before her, as she picked one of the large leaves, it curled in her hand to form a pouch. Using her other hand, she once again pulled it through her flowing hair, this time coming away with a small droplet of water. The droplet she placed into the pouch, and it concealed itself. "When you have need, simply speak my name. I wish you luck my friend." She slowly sank down, her head disappearing within the folds of the water.

"The name for elf, it is so close to your own personal name. Why is that?" Aesa questioned as they stepped away. Ezhra looked slightly sheepish as she thought of how to answer.

"My brothers named me. When I was born with this hair, they believed me to be touched by our Goddess. It is not a colour one would normally see, especially on an elf who are generally dark haired. Ezhrahar loosely translates to the Goddesses chosen. Ezhra'lí means touched by the Goddess." Aesa shook her head with a grin.

"Should have known. Touched by the Goddess indeed." Seeing the rueful look upon Ezhra's face only made her grin more.

Faelyn swung herself from her horses back, her eyes filling with the vision all around her. The city was absolutely full to the brim, people were everywhere, never before had she seen anything like it. Whilst it was clear effort had been made to keep the place as clean as was possible, the stench of latrine, blood and waste still filled her nostrils. A party was waiting for them at their arrival through the western gate and both hers and her mother's horses were taken away to be looked after as soon as she was free of the saddle.

"Fae!" She heard her brother cry out and stood up on her tiptoes to spot him. He glided through the congregation with ease, people parting for him gracefully. He strode tall in his splendid full body armour, she did not think she had ever seen him look quite so, regal. With a small smile she noted that his hair still stood up to one side. Still her brother. Once he was by her side, his strong arms embraced her warmly and a tension she had not realised was coiled within released to be back with him.

"Evin. I have missed you." She exclaimed holding him tight, surprised to find tears springing to her eyes. Once they released each other he turned to their mother.

"Mother." He bowed his head formally, both their faces wore identical smiles.

"It warms my heart to see you well my son." Edraele said, placing an affectionate hand on his face.

"Father has asked me to escort you, he is worried for your safety as you can tell by the fifty men he has sent here to meet you." He said light heartedly though Faelyn could hear the concern in his own voice. "And I am afraid I have news." On the walk to their father, Evindäl filled them in on his journey to Myrení and his conversation with Leontis. The revelation left Faelyn speechless. Her whole childhood had been filled her tales of Leontis' bravery and heroics, to discover this dark secret of the past was disconcerting. He explained that despite their findings, he was still to marry Irissa, without the marriage Franko would reclaim his troops and return home to make a stand there. Though he did not voice his feelings, Faelyn felt an odd stirring within her own heart, a deep pain which shot through her so quickly she thought she may have imagined it. She shot a glance at her Mother and brother, but their faces registered nothing. How odd. She thought to herself. Evindäl moved on from his morbid news and described in great detail the wonders of the forest. As he wove the scene with words, her mind filled in the blanks and she saw their home so vividly it was as though she could reach out and place a hand upon the bark of a tree. When he told them of his fall from the tree tops and his miraculous landing she couldn't help a giggle escaping; throwing her a pained look he spoke in unison with her. "Ezhra." She spoke with a laugh, he with a groan. Once Ezhra heard of this she was never going to let him forget it.

"I am proud of you son, that you embraced the Forest so well that it welcomed you so openly." Edraele said of his landing. "And you sang." Her singsong voice was wistful.

"Oh Evindäl." Faelyn exclaimed, thinking back to when they had all joined together as one, their blood singing. "It was so beautiful."

"It truly was, the most magnificent thing I have ever felt. Even now, I can feel the song thrumming through my veins. Father says that I have awoken something in all of us which has lain dormant for too many years. He thinks it shall make us stronger."

"And he is right, as he usually is." Edraele said nodding. "Stronger individually and as a whole. Even now, I feel a connection to the elves which has been lost to me for too many centuries. So long that, though I have mourned for it, I had begun to forget what I mourned. You are a true Prince of our people to return the Blood Song to us." Faelyn saw how much their mothers words meant to Evindäl as he grinned proudly.

"And what of you little sister? Are you ready to meet your future husband once more." His words sent a tremor of nerves and a flutter of excitement through her.

"I am keen to get to know him further, though your own glowing recommendation speaks volumes in itself." That evening, they dined together as a family and Faelyn could almost forget the war which raged on around them. Almost.
Chapter 32

Evindäl pushed through the fortress with little ceremony. He was roaring out commands before he reached the council chamber. Still, when he reached the room he was left pacing for far too long before his Father, Haroun and Ayred joined him. They all looked to him expectantly. He himself felt the magnitude of this moment. He had been away from battle far too long, always searching for some answer some help to their quest. Now he had devoured Gadriel's book and whilst still no closer to finding a way to kill the Mages, he felt for the first time he understood them a little more.

As dawn spent a spray of colour flashing across the sky, Ezhra lifted Vita into the cart which Rarin had made sure was returned to them. Even now she could see the scowl upon the Healers face at her discomfort with being "manhandled" as she had a tendency to call it. It was a necessary irritation for them to get where they were going. Ezhra was becoming impatient with their pace. Whilst they travelled faster than a walk it pained her that they were so close and yet felt so far. With the arrival of the messenger informing them that the army had moved back to the City of Idis, she knew they were less than a week away. Having spent the last three nights in the woods, they finally came to the end of the dense trees which packed around the road out of Lopal and into Elindor. Once out of the thick foliage, Ezhra stood staring out at the scenery before them. A flat green spread of land lay ahead, bursts of colour stood out in waves were wild flowers grew on the otherwise untouched area. She had travelled through this area once before and had always remembered it fondly. It seemed so untouched and innocent in a world of ever expanding cities and war. The sun reflected from the various streams which ran through the pastures, twinkling with the promise of cold refreshing fresh water.

"It is very beautiful." Vita said, her voice soft. "Bloody hell! Aesa look! It's hedbane!" Aesa came to them, joining in her Aunts excitement for something that so reminded them of home. As the two women collected bunches of the plant she could not help but smile, at least for the moment they could forget the pain all around them. If only for a blink of an eye, they were simply two Healers collecting herbs. She cast a wary eye out at the land before them. Though it was easy to see for leagues in all directions, there were a number of low hills which could provide ample cover for anyone with a mind to hide. Muttering to herself about paranoia, she led the rest of the group out of the woods and onto the pasture.

Evindäl looked over at his father, in truth a little unsure of where to begin. His father and friend waited patiently as the silence bore on. Finally, it was his mother who spoke. His father had brought her with him, wanting her to hear the truth with the rest of them.

"Child. Whatever you have learnt, whatever you have read know that these creatures are no kin of ours. They cannot be saved from this mad quest they are set upon. The past is just that, what we must focus on is the future." Her words bolstered him, reminding him of why he was here. To preserve their future.

"Gadriel made only seven entries in the book, but each one delves a little deeper into those that we now call the Mage. As the halfling children grew, so too did their powers, despite being hidden deep in the forest upon the mountain word of their gifts spread. On Gadriel's first visit he saw those who had travelled to meet the children, they were awed by the gifts the children possessed. Even at such young ages they were each greatly gifted. Of all the sisters, it was Iris who was most heartbroken following the departure of her husband. Her love turned to hate, her kindness to bitterness. She began plotting, wanting to raise her children to be so powerful even an elf could not harm them. When Gadriel returned once more, a palace had been built upon the mountain side. A temple for the Mage's who, having reached maturity held power like nothing Svet had ever known before. Gadriel writes of how Ivy had passed since his last visit. Her death had left a hole in Maion's heart, an orphan he coveted his power using his strength to belittle people. Gadriel questions whether if he and Leontis had remained, would the children have been raised to be so bitter. But who is to know? We have always put our trust in the Goddess and must continue to do so. Iris persuaded her children, though Andee according to Gadriel showed some resistance, to rid the country of all other magical beings. An army was built with the Mage's leading the way, cutting down any in their path. Gadriel watched as his daughter, Olina cried herself to sleep for what they had done. Her mother, Lily was gravely ill and the young Olina blamed their actions upon the illness which none could heal. After her mother's passing, Olina quit the palace never to return. When next he returned, Gadriel speaks mostly of watching his daughter from afar. She gave up the name Olina, becoming known as Willow. She lived a remote and lonely life but seemed happy. When needed, the people of a nearby village called upon her gifts, though none knew her origin. Knowing his duty was to watch over all of the children, Gadriel returned to the palace. Volunteers had begun offering their service to the Mage's, wanting nothing more than to protect their Kings and Queen, their Triad. And so, the Guardians were born. None of the Triad married, they chose Guardians they wanted and took them to bed. Any offspring that were born were the Triads children. Only one of the countless children they bore had no gift. That child was killed. The fifth decade, Gadriel witnessed Aifin and Maion experimenting on guardians."

"By the Goddess what were they doing to them?" Haroun asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"Many things, torture mainly. They were filling chosen Guardians with their powers, trying to mould them into something more than people. Gadriel never saw them succeed in this, however we now know the descendants continued to do so and they succeeded. They did triumph however, in gaining more power during the blood moon. There is a blood moon once a century, in that time the Mage's could harness greater power by creating a circle, a group of at least six Mage's, and each ones power feeding the others. Unimaginable power. During the blood moon of Gadriel's sixth return, the Mages cemented their rule. Guardians became slaves, Mage's became like gods."

"What became of Olina?" Edraele asked. It was as though she knew where the tale was headed. Evindäl looked at her with sadness in his eyes.

"Gadriel returned in the seventh decade, the Triad had grown in strength to dizzying heights, they look to be younger than their years but the touch of mortality was still upon their faces. Word had reached them of a woman by the name of Willow, who held powers to heal those in need. This woman was a threat in their eyes, Gadriel rushed to his daughter, hoping to warn her of the incoming danger. But he was too late. The Triad had already dispatched three of their children, the three set to take over from their rule. When Gadriel arrived it was to see the final blow as Olina stood defiantly, refusing to bring harm to her kin, her nieces and nephew. The assassins left and Gadriel gathered his child in his arms. With her final breaths she named him for who he was, father. Her last vision on earth was of a father who looked young enough to be her own son, of his tormented eyes. Ator wept with his friend. Watched in horror as Gadriel wrote his final entry, of how he would take his own life to join Olina with the Goddess. He fell upon his sword asking Ator to burn their bodies and scatter their ashes in the air, letting them fly free together as they had never had the chance to do."

"Goddess these creatures were ruthless even then." Ayred said softly.

"It did not take long for their hearts to turn cold." Evindäl looked about him, in all of their faces he saw the question which seared through his own mind, if the fathers had stayed would life have been different?

"I heard the Goddess speak through Leontis. I believe that if he had stayed this nature would still have formed, perhaps not straight away, perhaps never in Aifin, Andee and Maion, but eventually."

"This blood moon you speak of, do we need fear it?" Elmon asked, his sharp mind instantly focusing on the biggest threat.

"That depends." Evindäl replied with a shrug.

"On what?"

"Whether their blood moon is the same as our Joining."

Chapter 33

Dark grey clouds rolled in, quickly covering the once clear sky like a heavy blanket. Elion looked up thoughtfully, he had anticipated the rain though he was not sure how. In response to his advice, they had built a rough shelter out of bough branches. Camped so close to enemy lines there would be no hope of a fire to warm them. When Elion had been asked to do this mission he had been filled with a fierce pride. But he had also been acutely aware that it would be a miserable affair. He looked about him at the other elves who had been selected for their aptitude for stealth.

"Intuition is a great strength out here, well done Elion." Resak said earnestly, though he was a serious sort of fellow, Elion had quickly grown a deep respect for the man. It was his pleasure to serve with such a brave and intelligent mind. The spoke in hushed whispers and sparingly, finding themselves closer and closer to the enemy they trod with care. Another elf, Kalip, passed out thick rolls of bread with cheese and salted beef. It was a sorry excuse for a dinner, but Elion knew he should be grateful for it nonetheless. A scream pierced the air so suddenly they all jumped. They shared silent looks, but all knew there was nothing they could do for the poor soul in the Svet camp. They had a mission which would help see the evil scum stopped from causing anymore suffering on their people. There was little sleep had that night, as screams echoed through the trees like wails from a ghost.

Everybody began talking at once but it was Elmon who called for silence. His face was ghostly white.

"How likely do you think it is?" He asked with a quiet steel to his voice.

"I have re-read Gadriel's account over and over, his description says that the blood moon is a month in which time the whole moon is surrounded by a circle of red. The Joining is much the same and it happens but once a century. The only reason I have any doubt is that Gadriel does not call it the Joining, a custom as old as elves. But in truth, it seems unlikely it could be any other time. The Joining is a month when all elves abilities are heightened, when our link to the Goddess is strongest. The Mage's are part of the Goddess too, her blood runs in their veins it would be naive of us to think we are the only ones who benefit from the Joining." Evindäl knew why they all looked so terrified. The Joining was but weeks away.

"Then we must prepare. We must be ready." Elmon said standing to his full height, the determination back in his eyes. "I will not give up my land without a fight." Haroun joined him.

"I would give up my life a million times over if it will stop these Mage's from taking the freedom of our people." He said passionately. Soon all of them were on their feet and Evindäl felt, for the first time since reading the journal, that perhaps they had a chance.

Aesa stretched her body out, hearing muscles pop and crack as they were moved for the first time that day. It felt good to push herself, the slight strain in her muscles reminding her she was alive. It was a necessary reminder when she awoke from dreams of death, of release. After she had finished her daily ritual, it was time to go and she quickly swung onto Luisa's saddle. Though they now travelled closer to the rest of the group, the four of them still moved slightly ahead so as to remain a unit, separate from those behind. It was a dreary journey, with dark clouds sending showers of rain which came in short but powerful bursts soaking them all through. The air was too chilly for them to have any hope of drying between the rain, so instead she journeyed on, her hair plastered to her face, her clothes dripping wet. She supposed they could have accepted the offer of joining Maric and her family in the carriage, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Though they had tried to insist on Ema going she had stubbornly refused. Aesa was seeing more of Aunt Vita in the girl every day.

"Stop." Ezhra snarled so suddenly that Aesa's horses continued moving for a few more steps. The elves head swivelled around so quickly Aesa thought her neck may have snapped, but her eyes continued their appraisal of the land around them. "Goddess protect us." Her invocation for help scared Aesa more than any other explanation could have and she quickly saw what had so startled her friend. From three directions packs of running figures rolled toward them, their movements were not graceful enough to be elven, but there were enough of them for that not to matter. Already, they showed signs of Weaving. Even across the distance, the Weavers were drawing together elements, wind buffeted the ground sending wildflowers flying into the air in disarray, the ground trembled as earth exploded. Somebody screamed and Rarin started yelling orders at his men. They formed ranks quickly, protecting the carriage with their lives. "Rarin! We must run, they will smash through you like toy soldiers." Ezhra called out, her words did not scare the guards, they remained poised for their fight, but Rarin looked at Ezhra with concern. She would never say something so final unless she knew. Her eyes seemed to say it all and even Aesa understood, she did know. She had had a vision.

"We will hold them off, you must lead the royal family to safety." He said simply, his hands gripping the hilt of his sword. There was no time to argue, or to plan. Ezhra nodded, a grim but determined look on her face. She jumped to him and gripped his forearm.

"Thank you friend."

"We shall dine together in the light of the Goddess. But don't let it be too soon." He joked.

"Your highnesses! I need you out of the carriage and on a horse right now!" Ezhra roared, they did as they were told without question. The fat King struggling with his ample stomach to mount. "We ride fast and we don't stop, for anything. Understood?" They all nodded, even Aesa. She looked nervously at her Aunt, worried she may not keep up in the cart, but Vita was nothing if not driven. She would keep up. "Ema, you stay with Vita but hold on tight." The child nodded, her gaze fierce, one hand holding her little knife.

"Men. I thank you for your courage and bravery." Franko called out, so suddenly that even amidst the chaos, Aesa jumped slightly. She had barely heard him talk. "You will forever be remembered as heroes." They all let out a cheer of approval, their eyes never leaving the hordes racing toward them. And then Ezhra yelled out "yar" and they were flying away.

Ezhra was terrified, she knew that those behind her were not simple men, they were Weavers. And not all of them were human. Elindorians and Svetians, together? She shuddered. Behind them came the piercing screams of dying men and the courageous cries of battle roars. Her heart wept for Rarin, though she knew he did his duty with pride. Her duty was to ensure the safety of all those now in her care. She led the way, staying ahead of the thundering hooves. None of them spoke, they simply raced for their lives. She could hear little past the noise of the horses and the battle in the distance. But as a deathly quiet settled in the air, she knew they were all dead. There was no one left between them and the men who had come here to kill them. But it was more than dread for what could happen that filled her. She had seen what was about to happen in a vision and in that vision she had recognised one man's face.

Matlok thrust his blade back in the scabbard with a definitive air. The fight was short lived but fierce, but that did not matter. He had plenty of men still standing, their horses were fresh, unlike the beasts his prey now rode away on. He would have them soon enough and finally, he would have the trust and approval of his Master. A wicked grin spread across his face, his white teeth shining out of the crimson blood sprayed across his skin. With one order, those he had brought with him mounted up and they continued their charge.

Aesa's skin was covered in sweat, even in the cool air their pace was so fast it was taking all of her skill to remain seated on the horse. She could tell by the gasps and pants of those around her that none were faring well. They had been running for days, for hours, for moments. She did not know how long, but she knew now it was only a matter of time before they were over run. Ezhra, who was still able to speak unlike the rest of them, had explained her vision, how she had known they had to run. She had also told them that the men following were a mixture of Weavers and Svetians. "We could make a stand, but not all of us would make it." Her words had hung true in the air, their only response was to press on harder. Aesa had not come this far to die so that these spoilt royals could live. Her family would not be avenged by such a thing. Her lungs burned, every muscle screamed at her to stop. Cries from behind pushed her on, faster, faster. Terrified sobs broke out from beside her, she knew it was Irissa.

"Not long now! Just over the ridge is a bridge, if we get over it I can destroy it from the other side." Ezhra explained, the promise of salvation renewing their determination. As a grim scowl plastered itself on her face, she felt the ground ripple before exploding beside her. Debris flung across her vision, pain seared her right shoulder as spots appeared in her eyes. A horse screamed. Turning her head took a force of effort, once she had she couldn't help regretting the move. A horse, its front leg decapitated in the blast, stumbled and fell with a burst of blood, sending Irissa flying forward, the sound of bone breaking pierced through the cries of the horse. Without thinking she reached her good arm down, pulling Irissa onto the horse behind her. Ezhra began flinging raging balls of fire behind her, never slowing. The ferocity of the flames was so intense that as they whistled by Aesa could feel the burn against her skin.

Ezhra was beginning to panic, they were so close to the bridge, but it would do them little good if they were overrun first. Pulling on what little heat was in the air she began throwing fireballs at their pursuers. At this distance it would be nearly impossible for her to command earth without threatening her friends. With a roar like thunder she felt a wave of cold and heat at the same time as Maric and Vita joined her efforts and began using their own gifts to aid them. Aesa was hindranced, her horse now carrying two they were already falling slightly behind.

"There!" Ema called out, pointing out the top of the ridge at the wooden bridge beyond. This path was so unused no one had ever commissioned a more practical crossing, but for Ezhra's purposes now it suited just fine. The bridge crossed a cavernous break in the landscape, a crevice fifty feet wide cracked through the earth for over two leagues. The crash of water cascaded over them as they neared, not far from the point of crossing was a waterfall which fed the river running through the crack.

"Bloody hell." Vita whispered, fear putting a tremor in her voice. The bridge was not wide enough for the cart, Ezhra realised her mistake the moment they crested the rise. Without pause she began issuing orders.

"Vita, Ema you cross with Irissa and Franko, quickly as you can. Aesa, Maric and I will keep them busy until you cross." Everybody followed without question, Vita was quickly down and stepping up the edge, Franko took Ema's hand and began hastening her across.

"Aunt Vita. It will be fine." Aesa said softly as her Aunt stumbled at the beginning of the bridge. It hit Ezhra that perhaps this was how she had sustained her injuries. There was little time to dwell on it, Ezhra had to throw all of her concentration into the hordes trying to murder her. Sweeping her hand in an arc starting at her right hip and ending in the air above her head, Ezhra called upon the very earth they stood on and commanded it. A ripple undulated toward the men as though a giant serpent travelled from Ezhra's feet beneath the ground, the earth exploded in the centre of the men, rocks, grass and body parts tumbled through the air.

"Mother." Irissa's quaking voice called out, Ezhra turned her attention for a moment and saw Vita, Ema and Franko were near the other side. Irissa was still hobbling forward, now that she was paying closer attention she saw that Irissa's foot was broken, how she was standing Ezhra did not know. Franko turned, his face a picture of unease as he too realised his daughter was not with him. His pained scream pierced the battle cries. At the same moment realisation dawned on Ezhra, Matlok also saw their dilemma. A dozen balls of fire raced toward the bridge at the same time, Maric was able to stop some of them, but it was not enough. As though the world had slowed down, Ezhra watched in horror as the balls of flame exploded on the bridge, burning away their hope of life quicker than she could blink. With a crack so loud it echoed through the cavern, the bridge snapped in two and Irissa's screech wailed through the air. Panic threatened to grip her, looking at Aesa so full of determination to fight for their lives, Ezhra felt fear.

"I can make it across." She said confidently, though inside even she questioned if she would be able to make such a leap.

"Go. We will keep them from harming you." Aesa spoke quietly, her voice filled with a grim determination. Ezhra could see how her friend burned to live, finally understood what it would mean for her to die now.

"I think I can make it carrying you." Ezhra explained, still throwing blasts of air and fire balls at those closing in. They shared a look, both knowing Ezhra could not guarantee it. "If you can hold them off just a little longer I can get Irissa over there first. Then I will come back for you." She hadn't thought to save the girl first until the words left her lips but she knew it was the right thing to do. Aesa and Maric nodded, turning their full attention back ahead. A burning inferno wall raced past them all and hit two men as they tried to sneak in closer. Ezhra grinned ruefully at the power of Vita, even from a distance making a difference. Ezhra ran to the edge, glancing over the ridge she could see Irissa clung to what remained of it now hanging down the face of the cavern. Ignoring the river below and the jagged rocks waiting to envelop her in death Ezhra began climbing down, using the once foot boards as a ladder. Irissa whimpered where she hung. Fear shone in the girls eyes, which stared transfixed at the drop below. "You need to let go and climb on to my back Irissa."

"I can't. I'm too scared." Anger began to churn in Ezhra's stomach but she did not let it show.

"Of course you can. All you need to do is hold on, I will do the rest." Nodding shakily, Irissa reached with one arm wrapping it around Ezhra's shoulders, before she took a deep breath and swung the rest of her weight onto Ezhra's back. The girl was so slight she weighed next to nothing, but Ezhra still had to get to higher ground and then leap 50 feet with her clinging to her back. She hated to admit it, but she was tired. The ascent took longer than Ezhra would like, as her eyes peered over the edge she could see how close the men were, she could see the twisted rage on Matlok's face as he threw wave after wave of concentrated air, trying to decapitate Aesa and Maric. "Irissa. Close your eyes." She said, before launching herself out over nothingness.

Chapter 34

Evindäl threw himself onto his knees, his back arching away from the sweeping blade aiming for his neck. It passed by him so close he could smell steel. Snapping his body back upright, he thrust his own blade up, pushing it between the plates of armour and burying it in the man's stomach, red hot blood pumped out of the wound and over Evindäl's fist. With a roar, he withdrew his sword and swept it in an arc around him, slicing the thigh of another opponent and taking the hand of another. In quick succession he killed them both. Remaining on his knees, Evindäl calmly took in his surroundings, at least fifty men thundered toward him, the ground beneath him trembled with their passing. Revulsion was always close at hand as he fought in battle, with himself and for those against him. But he let it pass, washing over him like water. He was a Prince of this land and he would sooner die than allow any harm come to his people. He watched their approach as though in slow motion, could see the creases in their faces, the colour of the hair upon their chins, could count the beads of sweat as they formed. He could not know how terrifying he looked, no anger upon his face, just cool logic. He placed a hand on the ground, digging his fingers deeper into the soft earth. From the point where his skin made contact, a crack began to appear, it moved as though of its own accord, snaking toward the men coming to kill him. It grew and roared like a bolt of lightning, although they began to slow, comprehension dawning on them as they tried to flee, there was no way to escape his wrath. They had to die in order for his people to live. With a scream he sent it further, tearing the ground open with his will, until all those who had been coming for him fell in the crevice, their screams continuing for an age before finally, their bodies hit the bottom with a thud.

Ezhra's body hit the ground so hard it drove the wind from her lungs. Irissa's small body was flung away, rolling in a vision of tumbling red cloth.

"Irissa!" Franko exclaimed, pulling her into his embrace affectionately, instantly fussing over her. "You must heal her!"

"I must save the others!" Ezhra responded, anger pulsing through her for his selfishness. They could see how close the others were to being overrun. Without another word, she took a running start and leapt back across the chasm. Landing on her feet she had no time to congratulate herself for the more graceful landing, Maric pushed Aesa at her.

"Get my daughter out of here!" The Ice Queen screamed, sending a spray of icicles at men who got too close. Ezhra did as she was told, pulling Aesa onto her back, she was flying through the air within the blink of an eye. A scream reached her ears and she knew that they had gotten through Maric's defences, as her body hit the floor for the second time, her eyes frantically searched for the Queen.

Vita watched in horror as Ezhra leapt through the air, Aesa clinging to her back. Maric stood alone, with nothing but her Ability to help her, as soon as Ezhra's feet left the ground a man jumped in close, missing the ice that was catapulting from Maric's hands. A glint of silver flashed as he thrust upward with his dagger.

"NO!" Vita screamed, though she knew it was no use, burning hot flames erupted from her hands as she tried to stop him. The blade sank into Maric's stomach, her legs nearly gave way, Vita felt it as though the wound was puncturing her own side. "SANA!" Her sister turned, her eyes reaching across the chasm, across the years, meeting Vita's identical ones. A spark of life lit within and Maric jumped.

Faelyn paced in her room, Edraele sat with her, although unlike Faelyn her Mother was composed, her hands held in her lap, her shoulders pulled back. Faelyn did not know how her Mother could be so calm, her nerves were wrecked, her stomach clenched in anger. Screams of pain and rage rippled through the fortress, shattering her calm. A cry of horror sprang from her lips.

"Faelyn." Her mother said softly.

"I cannot be calm Mother! I won't be. Not whilst my people are out there dying!"

"Faelyn." Her Mother said once more, this time Faelyn turned to her. Edraele's face was a mask of emotions and Faelyn knew she was experiencing the same feelings. "Child, it is right to fear for their safety. But we can do something for them."

"What can I do? I wish I could pick up arms, like Ezhra. I want to be beside Evindäl, helping him as I should."

"You know you cannot. But we can pray, we can speak to the Goddess and pray for her guidance." Faelyn looked up, imagining the sun shining down on them. Despair threatened to consume her, but she nodded through her tears. Sitting beside her Mother, they both closed their eyes and silently prayed to their protector.

Aesa watched in horror as Maric ran and leapt from the cliff, her limbs stretching out, arms flailing. A scream threatened to pour out, but it choked in her throat and she was unable to do anything but watch in horror as her mother began to fall. A flash of white burnt across Aesa's vision, once the blinding light had cleared she saw a disc of ice materialise before Maric, her feet connected with the disc with a loud crack, and it crumbled away, but she had used it to gain momentum, pushing off, another disc appeared, this too pushing her closer. Her body continued to flail, threatening to lose control, but after a few steps she gained confidence, and soon she was leaping from disc to disc, flying over the chasm like it were nothing. Aesa had never seen anything so incredible in her life. Finally, when Aesa tasted blood in her mouth from chewing her lip in anticipation, Maric made one final jump and landed beside her.

Elion wrapped his hands around the branch above him, pulling his body up and over he climbed higher and higher until finally, he was above the tree line and looking out at the landscape beyond. They were nearing the edge of Elindor, he did not know if any of his kind had ever travelled this far before. The mountains loomed ahead, named Dragons Teeth for their ferocious and dangerous design. Each one was like a mound of sharp edges and deadly falls. They were so tightly clustered that there were no visible paths or trails, but Elion knew that the Svetians must have forged a path so as to get their troops into Elindor. His eyes scoured the stretch of land between the forest and the mountains, there was little in the way of life. The ground was brown and yellow, grey rocks dotted around were the only break in colour. To look at it sent a slight shiver through him. The mountains beyond looked just as devoid of life, it was as though he were stepping from the world of the living to that of the dead. At least there was no one stood in their path.

Chapter 35

Aesa held her mother's hands in her own trembling ones. Tears filled her eyes and pain pierced her heart. Irissa and Franko sat on Sana's other side, though their mother stared up at Aesa and Vita. The knife which she had taken to the stomach was laced with poison, there was nothing that could be done. Both Aesa and her Aunt had tried and failed to save Sana's life. Now it was but a matter of time. A trail of blood dripped from Sana's lips, running down her chin.

"Mama." She whispered, wanting to tell her how much she had missed her mother's embrace, but unable to find the words. Sana pulled her lips into a ghost of a smile, though it was obvious it pained her greatly.

"Vita, sister." Sana said, her eyes locking on Vita's. "I am sorry. I should have known you would never abandon her."

"What's yours is mine and mine is yours sister." Tears took Vita's voice and she stumbled on her words. "I am just so, so sorry." She managed in a croak.

"Shh. There are no more sorry's Vita. Thank you, for everything you have done for her."

"I love you Sana, I always knew I would see you again." Sana smiled once more, her eyes misting over as the poison spread through her body.

"I love you Vita. Aesa, my darling girl."

"I am here Mama."

"Don't let the ice take over, it is not worth it. To freeze everything out. I have faith you shall see your family again." She squeezed her mother's hand tighter, clutching it to her chest.

"It's not fair. We came all this way. You can't leave us now."

"If I could stay I would, I would choose to never leave you again."

"You gave me a life, you gave me a chance with Aunt Vita. You sacrificed a lot for us and we will always be in your debt." She could feel her heart melting as the words stumbled out, the pain and hurt she had kept locked up for so long finally thawing. A cough racked through Sana's body, a spray of blood burst from her lips viciously. She tore her eyes away, with effort, to her new family. Her husband and daughter whom Aesa knew she had neglected for so many years. Sana opened her mouth to speak, but only a choking sound escaped, a gurgling bubble of blood rose and burst into the air, so ferocious they all jumped back in surprise. As Aesa turned her eyes back to her mother, she saw the life had fled her body. Franko slumped, wiping a hand across his face to hide his grief. Irissa pulled on her mother's hand, begging her to speak.

"Mother no! You cannot leave me! Say something!" She cried, sobs wracking her body and turning her pretty face to a twist of pain and horror. Aesa could not move, could not speak. It took Ezhra gently prising Irissa from Sana's body, the girl still screaming into the air, to break the spell. Aesa slumped back. After everything they had gone through to get here, to see Sana. This was how it ended? Hands ran through her hair, gripping the ends and pulling so hard she felt some fall out. Sana was dead.

Elion placed a hand on the ground, he did not register the cold earth nor the sharp rocks which threatened to cut his palm. He concentrated instead on the feel of the ground, the light tremble which was uncharacteristic. He had heard a tendril of sound from deep within the cavern of rock before him, but had not known what it was. Having felt how the very earth moved he knew that heading their way were men. A lot of them. He and his companions had been sent to ambush supply trains, to try and starve the Svetian's. On many accounts, they had succeeded. They had been deep in the rocky mountains for nearly a week and had stopped many caverns of food and weapons from reaching those beyond, but this new supply was of men, warriors. He turned back silently, fading into the rocks quickly to bring word to his Commander. It had taken little time for him to grow used to the mountain. Its face was an endless array of jagged rocks, varying in size. Some boulders were twice his own height. There were copses of thin trees, but it was mainly the rocks which he used for cover. His grey clothes and the grey cloth he tied about his face, helped him to disappear. Erics was waiting for his report when he returned. Only three men sat in their small camp, four were acting as sentries and Jona was out scouting. They had lost Hakon two days ago, when raiding a supply wagon one of the guards had put a sword right in his heart.

"There are men sir, reinforcements. I could not tell how many from my position, but there were slight tremors running through the ground. I would estimate at least two hundred men. Likely more. There is a ridge, not far from where I was, I would likely have better visual from that position." Erics mulled the information over a while, chewing on the pipe which seemed permanently attached to his mouth.

"Very well, take Mulien, try and get as much information as possible. Numbers, estimated time until they pass us. I will find a more defendable position; we cannot allow these men get past us." Elion nodded, smiling over at Mulien as he gathered himself up.

"So much for a rest." Mulien joked as he followed Elion from camp. They moved quickly and quietly, Elion leading them to the incline he had seen. The rise was so steep that in many places they had to crawl in order to reach the top. Slowly, so as to avoid knocking any debris and alerting their presence to those below, they peered over the edge. Unable to find a clearing large enough for the men to camp together, the Svetians had stopped here. Rises of boulders sheltered the men from view, but wisps of smoke from campfires and the differing voices spreading out below them made it possible but Elion to count the men to an estimate. The numbers continued into the distance. He signalled to Mulien and they both lowered their heads.

"A thousand." Mulien mouthed and Elion nodded, it had been his estimate also. He moved his hands in gestures to say that they needed to circle the camp below, get more information on their armour and abilities. Mulien nodded and signalled for Elion to go first. Having grown up at the feet of a mountain, he was the best equipped for travelling carefully in these parts. Careful to look out for loose rocks which could shift beneath his feet, he began circling those below.

Raken banged a fist on the table before him, sending his Guardians scurrying away and his General to flinch. Red hot fury pumped through his blood as he heard how their supplies had ceased to arrive. He threw a glare at the man before him, his seething anger flashing in his dark eyes.

"How has this happened?" He said, so quietly he saw the unease grow in his General.

"They got past our sentries, they must have sent a squadron of men into the mountains, if they are of a mind it would be very easy to appear and disappear in that rocky terrain." Takis said, his own temper evident. "I request permission to send men to hunt them down. We will slaughter them." He finished with definition. Raken mulled over what he had said, he agreed it was a sensible option, but these men were likely to have more knowledge on the terrain. Sending men after them could quite easily turn against them.

"We have another squadron of men due in a week, have we had any news of them?" He asked, his anger residing into cunning.

"No word Sir."

"They will attempt to stop our men from reaching us. They will no doubt set a trap."

"Shall I try and get word through Sir?" Raken turned to him with his teeth bared.

"Why would we do that when we can get these pests in one place?" He asked, a low laugh rumbling in his chest. He could lose a thousand men for the greater good. He would lose a million men if it meant bringing these abominations to heel. There were many more men coming, the thousand men in the mountains were only a fraction of those now travelling to join his efforts. He could feel how close he was to destroying the army which stood in his way. Finally he would lead his people in bringing about the rightful destruction of the elves and all those who cowered behind them. He thought of Sida, moving faster than they had thought possible through the land of Debdran, already residing within her own palace in the capital of Jacoby. Even she had admitted that a large part of their quick success was the lack of magical resistance. Soon the Mage's would rule all of the known world. All magical beasts of uncleansed blood would be eliminated. All others would be harnessed to the Guardianship yoke.

When the rundown and exhausted group finally made it to Idis, it was with little fanfare nor celebration. Despair clung close to Ezhra's heart as she thought of Rarin's happy smiling face. He had been a good friend from the day she had first stepped foot into the ranks of the army. Aesa touched a hand lightly to her arm, offering a small smile. It was a beacon of light in an otherwise black whirl of anguish. As selfish as she knew it was the thought which hung heavy in her mind was that she had delivered Evindäl's bride to him. Tiredness threatened to overwhelm her as she stepped up to the King. Her hair was only half in her braid, no longer golden red it was covered in travel dust and blood. Her clothes were torn and ragged, but she pulled her shoulders back and held her head high.

"Mëihemëi Lady Ezhra'lí." King Elmon welcomed gripping her forearm strongly.

"Mëihemëi. Allow me to present King Franko and Princess Irissa. And my travel companions, Healer Vita and Aesa. And this is Ema." Her friends curtsied in an awkward way, Irissa and Franko inclining their heads. His gaze passed over them all, notably taking in that Maric was not with them. He raised an eyebrow at her but she shook her head slightly, deterring him from any questions for now.

"Meihemëi Mhkai-ar Elmon. My Aunt and I have travelled far to lend our gifts to your cause." Aesa said her voice strong. Ezhra looked at her startled and proud. Vita pulled herself forward.

"Those that invade your lands desecrated ours. We intend to make them pay." Ezhra watched Elmon's reaction carefully, he too looked startled at these small women offering their services, but a grim smile soon fixed on his face.

"Then welcome. You shall get your vengeance and together we shall turn the tide of this war." They were separated from the Lopal royals not long after and shown to a simple room which had two large cots within, just looking at them made Ezhra want to collapse into its cushioned embrace. It was not long before Dashél found them. At seeing her big brother alive and well she felt a wave of emotion wash over her.

"Dashél!" She exclaimed jumping to him and embracing him fiercely. He chuckled as he held her close.

"What manner of trouble have you been getting yourself into?" He asked softly, ruffling her hair. She pushed his hand away and led him to her friends, introducing them. "Healers you say? Magic or herbal?"

"Both." Vita replied, her eyes looking at the blood which soaked Dashél's tunic. He looked down at her appraisal with a sad shake of his head.

"My apologies ladies, when I heard my little sister had returned I hastened over here as soon as possible. I did not think to clean up." Ezhra shook her head with a grimace. No matter what she was always little sister to her brothers.

"Where are the others? Elion and Ayred? Father?" She asked quickly. He smiled fondly and she couldn't help but frown slightly. She was more than little sister Ezhra now. He sensed her mood and replied.

"Father and Ayred are at the Southern and Northern quarters of the city. Elion was chosen for a mission I am not privy to." But his tone said, whilst he was not privy to the information he had it. She placed her hands on her hips and scowled at him. "Alright, alright!" He glanced at the others crowded into the room.

"I trust them." She said, daring him to challenge her. Ezhra knew she trusted these women more than many of her own countrymen. He nodded.

"He and nine other elves were selected, they travelled to the Dragons Teeth mountains to stop supplies from reaching the Svet camp. They are due to return within the week." Only ten elves? That sounded awfully dangerous, but she knew Elmon would have chosen the elves wisely. Elion was in safe hands. As safe as one could be in war.

Elion pulled huge mounds of earth from the ground using a mixture of earth and air control. Mulien had been sent back to their main force that morning to request more men. They needed to stop the hordes who were drawing in, having scouted further, they knew that this first wave of one thousand men was nothing compared to what was coming. They could fight these reinforcements and likely die in the taking, or they could wait. Allow this small line of men to pass by, and prepare to fight the next round. It was a dangerous scheme, filled with possible outcomes. But Erics had conceded that it was the best way to help their country. So they would allow the Svet Mage's to pass by unharmed and then work to close off the original path, leading the next wave through the assortment of traps Erics and his men would have waiting. Their leader had been honest, they were unlikely to live past this fight, the odds were most certainly not in their favour. But none had been deterred. They would stand together, until the end.

Evindäl raced through the camp, fresh blood quickly drying on his armour, though none of it was his. All he could think was to run, hurry, he had to see her, to touch her. It felt like an age, but finally he was standing outside the room he had been told he would find her in, suddenly very aware of the stench of blood and death which clung to him. He froze at a complete loss for words. He knew that she had brought Irissa here, that after all she had been through, fate had cruelly led her to bring his bride in safely.

"You must be Evindäl." Somebody said softly beside him. He turned his head, not recognising the voice. A small woman with dark, wild hair carrying a pot of water stared back at him. Her blue eyes were ice cold, but he could see a glimmer of warmth in them, as though her very eyes were a window into her warring heart. He nodded, unable to shake the thought that this woman looked so like his soon to be wife. "My name is Healer Aesa, I am a friend of Ezhra." He smiled, understanding dawning on him.

"It was you who she went to meet at Syriak?"

"It was, with my Aunt and niece." He appraised her, this small woman with the ice in her eyes. "I don't look like much, and maybe I'm not, but I will give my all to kill those who lay waste to your land." Her words sparked a sense of shame in him.

"Forgive me for judging. I should have learnt by now to never underestimate anyone. I have done it enough with my Ezhra."

"Aye, but I never tire of proving you wrong." Her voice was like music to his ears, the vision of her leaning against the doorframe, as though this were just like any other day sent his heart spluttering in his chest. Oh Goddess how he loved her. Her hair was wet, and hung down her strong cheeks and rolled over her back in small waves, even wet it caught the sun through the low windows and shone. Her green eyes were so mesmerising he found himself becoming lost. He never wanted to be found. He heard Aesa walk away quickly, leaving them relatively alone. Ezhra shifted her weight, nodding to the door inviting him in. Once within they stood facing each other, so close he could practically taste her breath. His arms ached to embrace her, to take her in his arms and never let go.

"I missed you." He said instead, the words feeling insignificant compared to the feelings within him. She smiled, the vision radiant.

"I missed you too Mëi Paratr. Much has happened." He nodded, knowing that both of them had seen enough blood shed to last them a lifetime. "I brought her here you know?" She looked away, but he knew she still saw his nod. "Her mother died on the journey, I fear it has cracked Irissa's heart and turned a spoilt girl into a vengeful one."

"Vengeance will be had." She placed a hand on his chest, the contact brought a small gasp from him.

"No, I do not mean toward those that killed her mother. The Queen's last words were spoken to Aesa, Irissa's half-sister." The back story seemed unimportant to him then, only Ezhra's hand on his chest, her slender fingers pressed over his heart. The world melted away as he covered her hand with his. He wanted so badly to tell her how he felt, to explain how much he loved her. But there were no more words, instead he leant over and kissed her so suddenly she gasped before pulling him closer, her kisses hungry and passionate. Tears touched his cheeks where they both wept, all too soon they pulled away and she brushed a tear from his cheek with her finger. "You will always be in my heart." She whispered through her tears.

"And you shall forever own mine." He replied, pulling his hand through her beautiful hair, staring deep into her eyes. Before he pressed his lips to hers once more and walked away.

Chapter 36

Edraele pulled Faelyn's hair into a multitude of braids, before pinning them to her head in a series of loops and plaits. Normally, now would be the time to place a veil over her daughter's eyes, but today was her wedding day. There would be no more veils. A tear sprung to her eyes as she looked upon her child's beauty. Though Faelyn was nervous, she had confided in her Mother that she was also excited, the more time she spent with Jaxon the stronger her feelings grew. He was a young faery who had climbed up the political ladder in Camda quickly due to his kindness and determination to help all around him. His gentle nature spoke to Faelyn. Whilst Edraele was sad that her daughter was to have an arranged marriage, she was proud to welcome such a man into her family. She had Dreamt rarely in the centuries since leaving the Forest, but she had Dreamt in the last weeks that Faelyn would be happy and would bare strong and healthy children. It soothed her heart to see joy in her daughter's future and she thanked her Goddess for offering her the vision to ease her anxiety. Her smile turned to a frown. If only it could be the same for Evindäl. Her Prince. Even now she remembered when the midwife first placed him in her arms. He had stopped crying the moment he was nestled close to her, his hazel eyes looking all about him, before finally resting on her own face. Even then he had been curious. She had fallen in love instantly. For many years, she had spoken to Rhaenion in whispers, their hopes for Ezhra and Evindäl. When they had held a ball in honour of Ezhra reaching Maturity as an elf, she had watched as her son and Ezhra had taken the first dance together. As he had swept her across the floor so graceful and beautiful, they had looked into each other's eyes as though there were no others in the room. She had known that day that they were madly in love with each other. Today, she would watch him marry another woman. One who did not deserve his love. She would watch beside Ezhra, the one who would always hold his heart. It was a cruel fate. Faelyn touched her cheek lightly.

"Please Mother, don't be sad." She said, catching Edraele's tear.

"I am sorry dear one." Edraele responded, taking her daughters hands in her own.

"I know you are thinking of Evindäl. But Mother, the Goddess will not abandon him. They will find a way to be together. I know they will." She smiled, feeling a glimmer of hope. Faelyn was right, the Goddess had not abandoned them yet. Evindäl and Ezhra were too of the best elves she had ever known. Aodolys would not give up on them. Would not repay their loyalty and sacrifice with a lifetime of loneliness. Would she?

Ezhra stared at her reflection miserably. She was unable to put a smile on her face, nor stop the angry glint in her eyes. She had to watch the union, could not be absent. But that did not mean she had to play by their rules. Queen Edraele had brought a dress for Ezhra to wear, it was truly beautiful and the green colour would suit her complexion and bring out her eyes. But she had never cared for dresses, so why start now? She turned to her small trunk instead, pulling on a pair of black leather leggings and a dark green buttoned vest. Finally, she pulled on a fresh split coat, the black and green swirls had been intricately woven, phrases of the Old Tongue hidden within the design. It was not a coat she had worn before, too precious to risk spoiling. But it felt right to pull it on. The collar stood up, framing her neck, there were no buttons so her vest still showed through, but a belt held it in at the waist before it fell to her ankles in two panels. Finally, she pulled on her black boots and shook out her hair.

"Ezhra, are you ready?" Aesa asked walking back into the room. Today she would need them, their strength and their friendship, more than ever before. Taking a steadying breath she stepped out into the morning light. She heard the others draw sharp breaths.

"What is it?" She asked, quickly sweeping an eye around.

"You look so" Aesa began, but paused thinking.

"Regal." Vita finished and they both nodded. She let out a small laugh.

"You all look lovely." Ema was wearing a dress that one of the camp followers had made for her, it was simple brown in colour but the seamstress had sown in pretty leaves along the hemlines in orange and browns. Vita wore a new dress, similar to Ema's in its simplicity, about her waist was an intricately woven belt of leather. Aesa, like Ezhra had opted to stay away from dresses, and wore her leggings with a split coat like Ezhra's. More simple in design, it still looked lovely and cut against her feminine figure it was stunning. "I don't think I've seen you so bloody clean before."

"Likewise Lady." Vita replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She was eternally grateful to them, for although she saw sadness in their eyes, they did not voice their pity. They acted as though this were just another day and that was exactly what she needed. In the distance screams of pain and anger echoed through the hills. Though in the Elindor camp a wedding would take place, the Svetian's continued their crusade. Her Father and brother Ayred were out there, leading the campaign. Together, they made their way to the area which had been cleared for the day. The crowds forming were huge, camp followers of all varieties joining the celebrations, the likes of which had never been witnessed by humans still living. The space was not large enough for all those gathering, so they spilled out through the streets. Ezhra wanted nothing more than to hang back amongst the others, hiding her face in the thousands congregated. But she knew that was not going to happen. A canopy had been erected with someone even taking the time to decorate the white cloth suspended above four poles with flowers and ivy. A walkway for the brides to walk down, had been carved out by dropping petals in a line leading to the canopy. A ragtag group of instrumentalists had been put together and they sat next to the aisle waiting to begin their music, with one of the towns minstrels even ready to sing. Edraele stood at the very front of the aisle, wearing a black gown with woven silver threads. Though she wore no jewellery nor crown, the Queen still shone like a beacon. Her very poise and stature spoke volumes of her position as monarch. She beckoned them over, a sad smile on her lips. Having met the Healers and Ema the day before she greeted them warmly. Her affections had been won by the women's aptitude for the Old Tongue and for Ema's open curiosity and kind nature.

"Ema my darling, you look beautiful!" The Queen said. She rarely displayed emotions, having always lectured both Faelyn and Ezhra to maintain a calm exterior, but she clutched Ezhra's hand firmly, for once, unable to find the words.

"Please don't." Ezhra whispered, her heart breaking as she stood beside the woman she had thought would be family. Edraele nodded her understanding, turning instead to fuss over Ema and asking Vita if she would like a chair. Ezhra knew that to be in such close proximity to the Queen was unusual for her friends. Their own royal family were little more than a name in the village they came from. All too soon, the music began and they all turned their attention to the raised plinth right before them. An elderly elf, Lord Belin stepped forward. Ezhra knew him well for he was a good friend of her Fathers. Amongst their kind, he was considered an elder, though to a human's eye he looked to be barely past his fourtieth year and would no doubt maintain that look for millennia to come. Jaxon followed, flying over the guests and landing beside the canopy before walking the rest of the way. Ezhra had barely had a chance to meet the faery, though she knew him to be a good man. His skin was the colour of cocoa, with round brown eyes framed by thick lashes. Tall and broad, his physique was softened by his easy smile and kind eyes. Magnificent wings, barely visible in the dark, now shone brightly in the sunlight. They spread from his back, translucent and pale, with veins of silver running through them. He shot them a grin and Ezhra found herself smiling back. She was happy to see her friend marry such a man, especially when his eyes lit up the moment Faelyn stepped on the aisle. Ezhra turned, instantly recognising why Jaxon looked so pleased. Faelyn walked with a hand on her Fathers arm. Her dark hair had been braided into many small plaits before being twisted into an intricate design on her head which framed her beautiful face. Her hazel eyes were bright with joy, her attention completely fixed upon the man waiting to marry her. Her ivory gown clung to her figure before falling to the floor in pools of silk. The long sleeves were ivory lace and a matching belt hung loosely around her hips. Silver embroidery embellished the bodice of the dress with the ancient symbol of love. A thin silver circlet rested upon her brow. Beside her King Elmon beamed with pride as he passed her hand to Jaxon. Three other Council members from Camda were present and they clapped along with everybody else after the Princess and Jaxon said their vows. As Lord Belin declared them joined together Jaxon leant down to touch his lips to Faelyn's, their first kiss slow and cautious. But as they pulled away they both beamed at each other, affection filling their eyes. They stepped aside, to allow for the second wedding to take place. Jaxon bowed formerly to his new Mother, who welcomed him to the family.

"You look truly breathtaking Faelyn." Ezhra said honestly, embracing her friend.

"As do you!" Faelyn replied, keeping Ezhra in close and whispering "What did Mother say of your attire?" Ezhra laughed quietly.

"Nothing! Finally, I can no longer surprise her! Perhaps I shall have to try harder." The music began again and Ezhra's heart stopped beating. Evindäl stepped out, standing in the same place Jaxon had moments before been. There was no smile on his face, no emotion other than a deep seated fury in his eyes, the likes of which Ezhra had never had cause to see. Without care for repercussions, he looked only at her. His eyes captivated her, holding her tightly in their spell. Ezhra's hands shook and tears spilled over her cheeks, but he did not look away. She did not want him to. She heard nothing other than the sounds of their hearts beating, as one, saw nothing but his hazel eyes reflecting the pain she held. Somebody's hand tightened on hers, she did not know whose it was, but it signified something important. Ezhra was too far away to care, there was no one here but her and Evindäl. She could step forward now and be back in his arms, where she belonged. They could turn to Lord Belin and he would marry them, that was as it should be. She almost took a step forward, unable to contain herself, when a figure crossed her vision, the spell she had been under cracked with her heart. It was not her stepping up to be beside him, was not her hand which he took. A snarl escaped her lips, she was suddenly grateful for the music which covered the noise from all save those nearest her. They began to talk, exchanging the vows she wanted to say to him. She felt them deep in her heart. Instead, she focused two balls of air and stuffed them in her ears to drown out the words. Then she closed her eyes becoming blind and deaf to all around her. All too soon, she was roused from her cocoon by Aesa's concerned face. She released the air buds and sound assailed her ears once more. The music had changed tempo, was more upbeat as people began to dance. Vita, it appeared, had finally taken up the offer of a chair.

"Are you alright?" Aesa asked, concern in her voice. She shook her head, unable to form words. It was done. Evindäl was married to another. Her head began to spin as she clutched onto Aesa's hand like a lifeline. People danced past her, oblivious to the storm raging within. A rumble of thunder and a crackle of lightning in the distance answered her feelings. Heads looked up, but most people were too happy to be able to celebrate the joyous occasion they did not concern themselves with worry over the weather.

"No. I doubt I shall ever be alright again." As soon as the words left her lips, King Elmon clapped his hands and began ushering people away from the clearing. It was time for the newlyweds to take their first dance. Faelyn and Jaxon appeared first, followed shortly after by Evindäl and Irissa. Ezhra wanted to ignore them, force her attention to Faelyn and Jaxon, but she could not. Her eyes remained fixed upon Evindäl and Irissa. Though the girl was a fine dancer, she could not compete with an elves natural grace, beside her husband she looked clumsy and small. Her eyes were a mask, hiding any emotion from view. His eyes were the opposite, like a window into his soul. With every spin, his eyes touched Ezhra's and her heart broke a little more. Finally, it was time for the brides to hand their husband to a woman to share a dance with. It symbolised their trust. Faelyn passed Jaxon's hand to another council member, an elderly human woman who never stopped smiling. Ezhra could not know what was going to happen next, she should have seen it coming, but no vision had come to her this day. Irissa walked straight over to her, a contemptuous snarl on her face, her blue eyes filled with ice and rage. As she led Ezhra to Evindäl she whispered low, so no one else would hear.

"Have your last dance Ezhra'lí. After today you shall never see my husband again." Ezhra could hardly register the words, all she could think of was the horror and pain on Evindäl's face as he took her in his arms.

Aesa watched in horror as Irissa led Ezhra to Evindäl, there were more than a few gasps as the gathered crowds witnessed the cruel scene. She saw Edraele step forward, as though to interject, but she stopped short. And then the two elves were spinning, Ezhra's hair flying out behind her. They moved instinctively, each knowing the other so well they moved as one. As they leapt and spun through the air, Aesa found herself holding her breath, for it was truly a breathtaking sight. Even Jaxon and his partner seized dancing to watch. Evindäl flung Ezhra into the air, as though she weighed nothing, catching her with her back arched and her head held high. As he lowered her back to the ground, her hair surrounded them, entwining them as one. Their heads so close their noses touched. Aesa saw tears running down both of their cheeks, their eyes locked together. Evindäl mouthed something, she could not quite see what he said, but by the look on Ezhra's face he had expressed his love. She placed her head on Evindäl's forehead, both oblivious to the thousands of eyes on them and the fact the music had stopped. Ezhra whispered something, opening her eyes to look at him once more, before she pushed herself away and ran from the crowd. Her legs moving so fast people barely had time to jump out of the way to stop from being knocked over. Wiping a hand across her own cheek, Aesa was not surprised to feel the wetness of tears, looking about her she saw she was not the only one. Irissa stormed away furiously, her display of ownership having backfired. She may be wedded to Evindäl, but his heart always and forever would belong to Ezhra.

Ezhra flew through the camp, her hair blazing behind her like a trail of fire as it caught the rays from the dying sun. She did not stop, did not think of her sword lying in wait in her room, or the fact she wore no armour. She simply ran until she reached the battle raging behind the scenes of the wedding. Tears had finally stopped flowing, leaving behind only a shell of who she was and an aggression which needed to be unleashed. The thunder continued to rumble in answer to her quaking feelings, but it was the ferocity of her Ability that needed to be feared. As she neared the edge of the battle, her eyes scoured, looking for where she was most needed. To the North she could see a squadron of men struggling to hold their position, cavalrymen rode to defend them, but they were too far away to make any real difference. Calling upon the forces of nature, Ezhra pulled together air and water, binding it with fire. In her hands she gripped a long whip blazing, waiting for a victim. Taking a giant leap, she sailed over the battlefield below, landing in the midst of the men who were dying in droves to try and defend their position. As her feet touched the ground, she sent an explosion of earth bursting into the sky, body parts and gore sprayed across her vision, finally beginning to satisfy the rage within. Her whip lashed about her in quick succession, as she pulled Mage's near, she used her bare hands to kill them, fingernails slicing their skin, strong fingers suffocating them. The screams of the dying filled her ears and joined with her cries of rage. Burning flesh and singed hair was all she could smell, her arm grew heavy as she swung her whip back and forth, six men dove at her from all angles, without thinking she threw her body back, remaining on her feet she spun the whip around in a full circle, taking the heads from those who tried to kill her. When her breaths came in short gasps and she could feel blood trickling down her back, Ezhra looked about her at the destruction she had wrought. The men she had saved cheered wildly, gripping their weapons and standing beside her, ready to assault at her notice. Blood dripped from her finger nails to the bodies beneath her. She reached down and picked up a fallen sword. With a roar, she led her men into the flank of a squadron overrunning Elindorian men.

Davyn whimpered as a trickle of warm liquid ran down his legs. He had witnessed as the elven lady had attacked a squadron of men who only moments before had been winning. Now they were all dead. By the Gods, how had he ended up here? His father that was how. Forced to join the army so as not to bring shame on his family when his sister had joined first. Dala had always had a sinister side to her. Had always craved for a fight. Well now she damn well had one. But Davyn couldn't be mad at her for he truly loved his sister and he would not go to his death with hate in his heart. For he knew his death was imminent. Had known with a surreal clarity the moment the woman with the golden red hair stained with the blood of scores of men had turned her attention to his band. And now he'd gone and pissed himself.

Chapter 37

Elion stepped from rock to rock, careful to leave no trace of his journey. Their preparations were nearly complete. The first wave of men had passed by peacefully, the next tidal wave was drawing ever closer. They had chosen to make their stand in a thin pathway, barely wide enough for five men to walk through side by side. It was carved between two sheer slabs of rocky mountain, too steep to climb easily. The pathway journeyed for nearly a whole league making it easy to defend whilst falling back. There were a number of nasty tricks and traps now standing between the Svet Mage's and their army. Erics wanted them to post men at the top of these inclines, they were going to move huge boulders to the top and position them so they could be dropped on the heads of the Mage's as they passed through. It was Elion's job to figure out the best pathway up there. Nearing the top, he looked up at the thick clouds which had become their constant companion. Their travels had taken them so far up into the mountains that the clouds were so close he could almost touch them. With his attention diverted, he took one wrong step and began to fall. Panic took over as his body spun around, he quickly realised through his fear that he were falling down and not along the mountain side. There must be a cavern below where he had been walking. Determined to survive this tumble he calmed his mind and pulled air to him slowing his descent, he was able to steady his body and watch with fear as the grey ground rose up to meet him. His body hit it full force driving the air from his lungs and knocking his head so hard it ringed. Gulping in huge breaths he waited a while before pushing himself up, the dust settled, the air stale and still once more. A black mound rose before him, so huge it looked as though there were a mountain hidden within the mountain. As he stepped closer he saw that the rocks he had thought he had been looking at were in fact scales. Huge scales each one the size of a man's suit of armour. Looking down he saw that he stood beside what appeared to be a foot the size of two horses. Long thin claws glinted in the weak light now trailing into the cavern. Elion tried to look how long the body was before him, but as the black shape disappeared into the darkness he had no way of knowing. He wanted to reach out and lay a hand on the spiked armour, touch his finger to one of the sharp claws, but caution held him back. As he stared in wonder at the beast before him, the whole cavern began to shake, debris and rocks falling from the ceiling, threatening to crush him or bury him. The beast before him was awakening.

Chapter 38

It had taken a lot of soap and a bucket full of elbow grease, but finally Ezhra had cleaned all of the blood from her hair. She sat back in her room, alone. Despite being in the midst of a city of hundreds of thousands of men and women, Ezhra had never felt so isolated. Using a knife, she picked the remaining bits of blood from her nails, her mind filled with flashing images of her fierce battle. She knew there was to be a war council this evening, things were looking extremely dire for Elindor and their allies. All soldiers were already in the fight and plenty of civilians had been conscripted. Their last hope now was to call on more volunteers. Ezhra knew it would not be enough. The Svetian's had a seemingly endless supply of men and every one of their soldiers was a Mage. But whilst she tried to think of the world around her, what was happening and how they could stop it, doubt clung to her like a parasite. How could she stop a war when she could not even stop a wedding? Her head fell into her hands. The dagger dropped to the floor. As wet locks fell about her face Ezhra suddenly could not stand to look at the hair which Evindäl so loved. Her shaking hand reached down for the discarded dagger, gathering her hair at the base of her neck, she closed her eyes and pulled the razor sharp blade, coming away with a fistful of hair and a handful of broken dreams.

Freezing cold mud splashed up Lenia's legs, sending a violent shiver through her whole body. She had been riding for weeks and didn't seem to be getting any closer to the army camp. When she had run away from her Grandparents farm, she had not expected sunshine and roses the whole way, but she would appreciate a little less rain. Her dress was utterly ruined and even when the rain did cease, the mud caked across the skirt remained. Her hair was plastered to her head in a fiery ring. If she wasn't careful, she knew a fever would soon settle in. She had begun this journey with the intention of helping her people, but as she grew more and more lost and her situation grew direr, it had begun to dawn on Lenia that she may never get the chance. It was growing dark, the trees shadows lengthening as the sun began to set. She would set up camp, try and build a fire and get some warmth into her shivering body. She stroked a hand along her mare Betty's mane, a gentle and silent thank you for standing with her.

Elmon had called together the war council and as Ezhra entered the council chamber she was met with serious and fierce faces. Her father and elder brother were there, as was Evindäl, Franko and the three Camdan Council members present on the front line. Franko's imbecile of a General stood at his side, his waxed moustache glistened in the candle light. All eyes turned to her with the same results. Gasps and sighs sprang from mouths and her Father stood up so quickly he knocked his chair over. It took a lot of willpower, but she resisted the urge to run a hand over her now short hair. Her head felt so light she imagined she may be able to simply float away. Haroun strode over to her, shock in his eyes as he ran a hand over her head, stopping where her hair ended at the nape of her neck. She kept eye contact with him, not willing to back down. Finally, he smiled affectionately.

"Very well." He said shaking his head. "But you have to tell your Mother." In the past, the thought may have worried her. But Ezhra was beyond that now. Together, they turned to the King as he pulled everyone together to look at their maps. The red pins which represented their enemies swarmed over the land to the East of Elindor. The black pins which represented their own troops was growing smaller every day.

"Firstly. We have had word from our men in the mountains. Erics has evidence of a huge replenishment of men travelling through Dragons Teeth to reinforce the Mage's gathered here. He and his nine men have begun setting traps. They plan to draw the men into a defendable position. Leading them through their cobweb of traps."

"How many men?" Haroun asked, peering at their less than accurate map of the mountain range. Elmon met his eyes intently.

"A hundred thousand." The whole tent went silent until finally there was an uproar of noise as everybody tried talking at once. Ezhra remained quiet. Her brother was out there. Elion was participating in a suicide mission. "Enough!" Elmon shouted over the din. His commanding voice silencing even Franko. "Every man was offered the chance to return, none chose to. Even their messenger, Mulien, is returning to them. He came asking for aid. Two hundred men. Preferably ones with no family." The words hung in the air once more. Ezhra was not surprised. Elion was a courageous man, he would do what was right and would sacrifice himself many times over to save even one life. Haroun slumped back down into a chair. She had never seen him look so, vulnerable. Ayred placed a hand on their Fathers shoulder, offering silent support; though his eyes looked as though Elion were already passed.

"I will go." She said quietly, staring at her Father and brother, sharing in their grief. Haroun's face crumbled, his fierce mask revealing a deep sadness below. She looked everywhere but at Evindäl, could not bear to face him. King Elmon looked deep into her eyes. His expression at war. Finally he shook his head.

"No Ezhra. I need you here." She did not respond, though she knew she would win this fight. In private, away from her family, away from Evindäl. "I will select the men I will ask to go, this must be top secret, I want none here to even mention it to those outside. They can remain if they want, I will not force this mission on any. We can do something to help them though, I want us to become even more aggressive with our attacks. We have been rolling more on the defence side of this war for too long now, it is time that changed. They are nothing more than pests. I intend for us to crush them beneath our boots." He began relaying his plans for their more offensive manoeuvres, depending less on the traps which had been placed prior to their retreat here. When the council finished and King Elmon dismissed everybody, he asked Ezhra to remain. When they were alone he took out a bottle of Cratra and two glasses. She had only ever tasted the liquid once before and did not care to repeat the experience, but the King poured her a small amount and passed it to her without asking, a grim expression upon his face. They sipped their drinks quietly for a time before, finally, he spoke. "I am truly sorry Ezhra." His face now showed signs of aging which was uncommon for an elf, slight lines at the corners of his eyes and upon his brow. The deep sorrow in his voice rang out and spoke more to her than his words ever could. Once she had said that she would never forgive him. But as she looked at him now, his face and voice filled with all of the traumas of war, she felt her heart melting. Ezhra placed a hand over his.

"I know. It is alright." He smiled slightly, just a gentle curve of one his lips.

"You were always a good girl. For a long time I wished for you and Evindäl to fall in love." He looked up from his drink and into her eyes. "When it happened my heart sang with you. A parent wants nothing more than to see their child happy. But I have more than two children. When the mantle of ruling was placed upon me by my Father, I never ever expected to have to push aside my children's happiness for the lives of my people." He closed his eyes in pain.

"Faelyn will be happy with Jaxon sire." She tried to sooth, though she knew it did little. He nodded grimly.

"You want to go don't you?" She did not need to ask where he meant.

"Yes. I feel it is my duty." He looked at her again, this time scrutiny in his gaze.

"There is more to it than that girl." She paused, thinking of her reasons for volunteering.

"The thought of Elion falling up there alone. It breaks my heart."

"And you would rather die alongside him than allow that happen?" She wanted to say she had no intention of dying, but they both knew her survival chances were worse than slim.

"He is my brother." She said instead. He nodded, as though he understood and perhaps he did.

"Very well. I shall add you to my list. But, I have one condition."

"Name it."

"Seek council with the Goddess before you leave. They will go the day after tomorrow, before first light. Seek out a vision, pray, try and Dream. Do whatever you can. If, even after that, you still wish to go I shall not stop you." His request was unusual, what he deemed she may learn from such a task she did not know and neither did he. But she would do so gladly.

Edraele took a steadying breath. Be calm. She commanded of herself. She was a Queen and even her own emotions would heed her demands. Once Edraele had waved her darling prince off as he rode to battle, far too young, far too precious. Her adoring husband had left also and once more, she had done her duty and sent him on his way with a farewell kiss. But this day was the hardest yet. Faelyn, her youngest, such a sweet and innocent girl not ready for the harsh realities of life. How was she to say goodbye? So quickly her daughter had fallen in love. She knew her child well, when Faelyn did something, she did so with all of her heart. All of her heart she had given to Jaxon and whilst Edraele was glad they had found each other, it saddened her beyond words to know she would be leaving today and her child would be staying here. No words, no demands, would budge Faelyn in her decision. She would not leave this city without her husband and who were they to deny her? She too had wished to remain here, beside her husband's side. But Edraele was a ruler first and foremost. She may not have been born to this title, but she had earned it with every fibre of her being. And so it was with composure and no display of her inner turmoil, that Queen Edraele of Elindor said her goodbyes and left the city of Idis.

The ground shook so violently that Elion struggled to remain standing, eventually his legs gave in and he fell to his knees. His Father had told him of mountains which erupted red hot lava, of how the very earth shook in answer to the rage of the volcanos. This was what it must feel like, he thought, covering his head with his arms. Through his fear, a beacon of light began to shine in the form of avid curiosity. The beast rising before him could be none other than a dragon. His lessons told him he was incorrect, dragons were extinct, wiped out by the mad King Kenweald. Yet here he was, staring at the black mass of scales which rippled like water. He could not make himself move, could it be he would be the first elf in nearly a thousand years to lay eyes on a dragon? A long and sinewy black neck snaked around, an enormous head filled with teeth and smoking nostrils turned to him, moving slowly, as though it had laid dormant for a good long while. Its eyes were black orbs and now that the sun was piercing through the dust, he could see that whilst the scales were black, their tips were a midnight blue in colour. Every inch of the beast was covered in plates which looked tougher than any armour, even the head was protected. Elion wanted so badly to speak but his tongue would not move, instead he simply stared in absolute awe of the magnificent creature unfurling before him. The head grew larger as the beast came in for a closer look, sniffing the air, it's forked tongue flicked out as though tasting something. One of its eyes stared at him intently.

"Mehémëi oy droygen." Elion finally greeted in Old Tongue. Greetings King of the sky. The silence which followed was powerful and Elion found himself gulping as the eye continued to appraise him.

"Mehémëi Ezhrahar, loti oy Haroun." Greetings chosen of the Goddess, son of Haroun. The dragon's voice was so deep the ground shook once more as the words resonated from deep within the beast's belly.

"My name is Elion, sixth child of Haroun and Rhaenion and fifth son."

"Elion you say? Six children? I once knew your Father well, he is worthy of the gift." As the dragon spoke more, his voice sounded less like he had swallowed a bag of rocks. "The name I possess is Ator. Though I demand you never speak it outside this cavern." Elion nodded his agreement.

"I apologise for waking you Ator."

"It is not the first time I have awoken in my long sleep. I shall return once more. Farewell son of Haroun."

"Wait!" Elion called out desperately, not wanting to squander his opportunity to speak to a real dragon. "I thought your race were extinct. Our people mourn for you."

"We are extinct young elf. I am the last."

"Perhaps there are more of you in hiding." Elion offered. A rumble of anger rolled through Ators belly and throat coming out in a low roar which shook the cavern dangerously. Elion backed away, his curiosity was pulsing but his respect for the dragon before him stopped his tongue. "Then I shall leave you to your slumber Mhkai-ar oy droygen. But know, if I survive long enough, I will search for others of your kind. Then I shall awaken you to a joyous reunion." He spoke softly, but he knew the dragon heard his words, he stopped walking and turned his head back, appraising Elion as he tried to climb up the cavern walls.

"I shall look forward to such a day Ezhrahar." He said, leaning one of his paws out and hooking a claw through Elion's clothes before lifting him up the top of the hole once more. "Be careful where you step." He cautioned before disappearing into the depths of the cavern below.

Aesa pulled on the makeshift armour that had been made for her. Too small to bare the weight of normal armour, instead she wore layered leather offering her some protection from the dangers she was about to become exposed to. As she had lain awake the night before, she had expected her fear to begin as she woke to her first day of planned fighting. But instead when she had opened her eyes she had experienced a rush of adrenaline so profound that she finally felt she was where she was supposed to be. Her dreams had been filled with visions of Ezhra stepping off the battlefield, her hair soaked with blood and her hands stained red. Aesa could not think of a more gruesome image. People had stepped aside silently, allowing the elf to pass by. Aesa had overheard Ezhra's father reprimanding her for her foolishness, though she had also heard the love in his voice. She had not seen Ezhra since that moment, though she had heard her returning to their room, she sensed her friend had wanted to be left alone. Finally, Aesa strapped two knives to the belt at her waist. Ema stared at her, eyes wide open.

"You look different Aunt Aesa." She whispered, touching the ripples of brown leather which now enfolded her whole body. Even her hands were gloved with leather so supple it was as though she wore a second skin. Ezhra had spared no expense in getting her the best protection. She had pulled her hair into a high pony tail near the top of her head, determined to keep the locks from falling into her eyes. There was a time when she would have been embarrassed to step outside wearing an outfit so sculpted to her body. There was a time when she would not have relished the thought of finally killing someone. But then again, she thought with a scowl on her face, there was a time when she had her husband and her children beside her, keeping her grounded and offering her hope in a world which she had once come to fear. There was no longer any room for fear. Her entire being was at war with itself, anger and pain so severe it was as though she woke up every day to a fresh wound, fought against the love in her heart for her Aunt and Ema, her new friend Ezhra. Like her Abilities with fire and ice, coming together like never before, Aesa also embraced the conflicting emotions within herself, harnessing them to use as a weapon. Anger flashed in her eyes, before it disappeared again. She kissed Ema's forehead gently before ushering her outside. Faelyn would look after Ema whilst Vita and Aesa were gone. The elven Princess waited outside patiently, a small group of guards around her. Ema grinned at the sight of Faelyn. From the moment they had met the Princess, Aesa had thought such a kind natured and loving person as Faelyn would survive in any scenario, she deserved her position and her crown. Though smaller than Ezhra she was still tall and easily swung Ema up in her arms when the girl jumped for her. Once there, it seemed to dawn on the child where her Aunts were going.

"You will be careful, won't you Aunt Aesa?" Ema asked, her voice strong. It was very easy to forget she was not yet ten summers. They had had a heated conversation only the night before arguing with Ema why she could not join them in the fight.

"I always am child."

"And if she's not bloody careful she will have to deal with me." Aunt Vita exclaimed, following Aesa out of the room. Her own armour was different, though the top half was the same leather shirt, she was unable to wear anything so constricting against her misshapen legs, so instead she wore a split skirt of brown leather which billowed in the wind, showing that it was in fact a baggy pair of trousers. Aesa could see instantly that her Aunt did not share her own sentiments about the day ahead. There was a little fear in her eyes but mainly there was sadness. Ezhra was next to appear around the corner, she wore splendid armour of silver, whilst the craftsmanship was exquisite there were marks all over from signs of battles. It clung to her body, ending at her waist where she wore leather trousers similar to Aesa's own. Her arms were covered with thick leather sleeves. Two long swords were sheathed at her hips. But it was her hair which Aesa could not help staring at, it was all gone.

"Are we ready?" Ezhra asked, her voice short and in demand. She was all about the battle today. Both Aesa and Vita nodded. "Then let's go." She strode away without a backward glance leaving them rushing along behind. As she jogged closer and closer to the congregating men Aesa's determination grew. They would be split up, Ezhra had prepared them for it. Vita would be with the Weaver cavalry, riding upon her special saddle. The team rode where their magical gifts were most needed. Haroun himself was leading them. Aesa would be grouped with a squadron of men, each squadron had six Weavers, she would be one such person. Ezhra was leading a squadron herself. It was time to say goodbye, Ezhra had Vita's saddle ready and helped her up into it. It took all of Aesa's willpower not to pull her Aunt down and send her back to Ema, to safety. But if she so hungered for this fight, how could she deny her Aunt the same thing?

Vita rode away from her niece and Ezhra with a smile of encouragement, which now seemed so bloody absurd. But it was too late now, her group was already riding away. Haroun was leading them, right now silently watching on his feet, as they approached. A strange calm settled over Vita as she looked at the men and women about her. Some of these people were going to die. She could be one of them. Tendrils of fear began to wind around her heart which thudded in her chest. But with the fear came also a clarification of her mission. She had seen the brutal evidence of how Svet treated their so called enemies. She may not know this land, nor the people in it but she had received more kindness and understanding from those here than the people of her own home. She could and would not stand back and watch them be overrun whilst there was still breath in her body. They were quickly split into groups of ten, ready to dash to the aid of those who needed it. Haroun would direct them, sending small assault teams in to use their gifts to help turn the tide of battle. His fierce gaze swept over them all as they sat at the ready. His eyes met hers and he nodded. She was glad of the courtesy. These men and women had been fighting together for many moons, she was new and also foreign. But they welcomed her gladly.

"That's an impressive saddle you have there." The man sat beside her remarked. It was an unusual design with high front and back and straps so she would not fall out of it.

"That it is." She replied simply, coaxing the heat within her out, only allowing small flickers to taste the air.

"My name is Stravos." He reached over and gripped her forearm, taking her by surprise. He quickly introduced the others in their group who all inclined their heads. "You do not seem afraid." She shrugged slightly.

"Seems little bloody point, they're going to try and kill me anyway!" Stravos barked out a laugh.

"That they will. When the need to ride is upon us, be careful not to fall out." He joked light heartedly and she felt the others calm instantly. He was a good man, able to use humour to ease the nerves of others. Vita found herself grinning wickedly. She had fallen in with the right group it seemed. They all looked hungry to begin.

Aesa ran her thumb along the handle of her dagger. The woven hilt was cold to touch and helped keep her grounded. She was surrounded by men, all clutching battle axes and swords, beside her stood her fellow Weavers, whose job was to protect the men about them as much as possible. She could feel how close they were to battle, the air was so thick with tension it seemed as though she could pull out her blade and slice through it. A pervasive silence hung in the air until a rumbling began in the distance. The Svetian army stomped their feet and began calling out challenges, the Elindor army stood stoic, none rising to the bait. Ezhra had warned her of this, how they would try and anger their opponents. Aesa's preparation helped her ignore their cries for blood and death. Instead she allowed a small smile to creep onto her lips when, as one, the Elindorians all began slamming weapons against their shields, if they had no shield they banged a foot on the ground. The result was a booming answer to the taunts. Disciplined, determined and working as one unit. Evindäl strode past, his sword arm raised and a ferocious look on his face. He said nothing, did not have to. These men and women would die for their country, they would follow him to their end if it meant protecting the ones they loved. When he reached the middle of their ranks he unleashed a mighty roar, so loud it cracked through the air like a whip. As one, they moved together. Aesa was swept up with the men, women and Weavers as they all raced toward their oppressors. Her feet pounded the floor in time with the others, her screams rang through the air unheard amidst the cries all around. And then finally, finally swords clashed against shields and she was in the midst of the war.

Vita stared out at the blood bath below from her vantage point on the rise. Her horse pawed its hooves against the ground, anxious to wade into battle. Absent minded, her hand stroked its mane soothingly. Her gaze swept across the raging battle below, back and forth. The northern and southern flanks, led by a cavalry charge, swept around, bottling the Svetian's into a semi-circle. She could see it was a good tactic, for it stopped any of the squadrons from having to fight in more than one direction, but it also pushed more men to the centre squadrons. As her eyes circled the battlefield Stavros began barking out orders. Their groups aid was needed. She saw it from the corner of her eye, the three balls of flame flying high into the air, the signal. Adrenaline rushed through her body and a fierce grin spread across her lips. So this was it then? This was why they had travelled across an ocean, traversed between countries. She pictured the faces of her family, all her family. They floated before her, Cale, Arina, Alek, Letty, Roger, Nora, Luca. Last came Aesa and Ema's faces. A burning need to protect them flooded her and she felt herself lean down low over the horse, spurring the mare on faster. So close now she could see those who needed the help of the Weavers. Their squadron was being overrun, forced back over the dead bodies of their comrades. Vita watched in horror as a man stumbled on the outstretched arm of a fallen soldier. As he was thrown backwards his eyes left the female Mage descending upon him, hers was a wicked smile full of blood lust that was about to be quenched. Vita saw with strange clarity the man's lips move as he whispered a name, with a roar of outrage Vita hurtled toward him, her flames already flaring bright before her. Her cry invited the attention of the Mage who turned sharp eyes on her, but Vita was livid. How dare this creature think to harm a man simply for defending his homeland? Vita screamed again, all of her heartache, all of her anger, released in that screech. A look other than amusement filled the Mage's eyes, for a moment she looked fearful. Vita directed the flames so that they went hurtling toward the women, she threw up a blast of earth to take the brunt of the blow but Vita kept on coming. Fireballs went thundering toward the Mage who deflected them with bubbles of air and walls of earth. As the Mage recovered from her initial shock she began attacking more viciously, a punch of air tinged with red came flying at Vita and before she could manoeuvre her horse she felt a blow hit her stomach and knock the wind from her. The saddle held firm and though a little shaken she remained firmly in her seat. The Mage cocked her head slightly, obviously expecting Vita to fall. In that moment of confusion, Vita sent a tornado of flames spinning and warping, surrounding the Mage where she stood and closing in on her until the sounds of her bloodcurdling screeches pierced the battlefield. In that moment a tumultuous mix of feelings swept across her. She had just killed a woman. A Healer all her life was that truly in her past? Was she nothing but a murderer now? The horse shifted slightly, eager to move on. The movement no doubt saved Vitas life. A ball of flames roared past her, so close she felt the heat singe her eyebrows. Spinning her torso and the horse to meet the attack she saw the man she had only moments before saved had returned the favour. His sword punched through the stomach of the Mage whose face was now turning a ghastly white as he sagged and dropped to the floor. The man gave her a simple nod and a grave smile before setting off to stalk his enemy. Focus Vita. She admonished herself, eyes once more darting to and fro; it did not take long to find an opponent. A mage engaged in a sword fight with two Elindorians. The Mage was a huge towering man with shoulders large enough for her to perch upon. He roared and grunted at the men fighting him like an animal. A feral animal which needed to be put down. Calling on her gifts, her birth rite, she thought of all the lessons she had watched Ezhra give to Aesa. A calm settled over her and she felt the pull of the air about her, it called for her, wanted her direction. And she knew just where to send it. With a roar of her own, born somewhere deep within her, she flicked her wrist in the Mage's direction, a gale of wind so fierce it took the man off his feet in one sweep, passed by. His face turned purple with rage but before he could gain his feet again her horse was upon him, the hooves trampling his head into mush in barely a blink. Blood and brain splattered up her horses leg and sprayed the chests of the men who only a moment before had been fighting for their lives.

"Our thanks lady." The older one said with a bow of his head.

"I'm no bloody lady." She growled in response, turning away to find more prey.

Chapter 39

Screaming, that was what filled her. All she could hear, screaming, all she could do, scream. It became her life, her force. It consumed her with a passion and a fury which hungered to be unleashed. Her voice was hoarse, her head ringing. But her energy was in no way depleted, her power thrummed through her singing for release. Somewhere along the way she had lost her sword and one of her knives. But no matter, she was weapon enough without them. Aesa released the neck of the Mage she had just killed; their body fell to the floor with a sickening thud. The battle raged on all around her, but all she had time to think about was the Mage circling her. He was devilishly handsome with a wicked scar beginning at his scalp and ending at his chin. His eyes were a deep green, his hair dark. Broad in stature he reminded her too much of her deceased husband. Revulsion shuddered through her and she screamed once more. He laughed, a deep booming laugh which was meant to intimidate her. She felt nothing but rage.

"Laugh all you want. You shall feel my wrath before this day is through." She vowed, narrowing her eyes at him barely recognising her own voice.

"You shall feel only the point of my sword piercing you, shall see my eyes as the life flees your own." His eyes raked up and down her length and he licked his lips. "If only we had a little more time. I would make you feel the point of my sword in other ways." Try as she might, Aesa could not keep the disgust from her eyes and he laughed all the more. Her feet moved in time with his, each circling, hesitant to be the first to attack. But Aesa had not gone through all she had to get to this point and hesitate. Growling she lunged forward, throwing her final knife and sending a snake of fire hurtling at his head. The knife hit its mark, though he moved narrowly avoiding the blade plunging into his heart, instead it buried in his chest, not deep enough. Not enough force to fully push through his armour. The fire was also side stepped and he attacked in kind, water filled her lungs so quick she made no move to stop it. Panic flooded her being. She had heard Ezhra tell tales of powerful Mages who could command water even far from a source. He grinned at her, prowling closer now that she was immobilised. Drowning from the inside. But water was of her, she commanded ice. As he stalked closer she refused to accept the panic gripping her heart. Instead she looked at his green eyes and felt undulating anger course through her, the water began to freeze, a pain unlike any she had ever felt before, but one she controlled. She grinned back.

Evindäl parried as a heavy sword swung toward his neck. The blades met with a fierce sound, the force so strong both men were knocked back a step. The man before him was huge. Matching Evindäl's own height, the Mage was all brute strength where Evindäl was lean muscle. He recognised the signs of fatigue upon the man before him, the slightly rapid heave of his chest, the beads of sweat on his face. A smile crept upon Evindäl's face. He thanked the Goddess for gracing his people with the stamina and strength they held. He felt his people all about him, since returning to Idis the blood song thrummed louder than ever in his blood. Every day it grew in strength. The Mage lunged once more. Nothing more than an overly large brute he was used to winning fights using his superior strength. Evindäl could see it rankled the man that he had not yet dispatched the elf. Evindäl would see to it that this Mage never killed another again. A blow so hard it shook right down into Evindäl's shoulder and sent him back a step, renewed his determination. With a roar he leapt high in the air, somersaulting over the Mage's head and landing at his back, with a move too quick to follow Evindäl thrust his blade through the man's back, piercing armour as easily as if it were butter.

Aesa reached out to the man with green eyes, her pale hand now tinged in blue, crystallising before their eyes in a beautiful display of power. He faltered, perhaps never having seen the like before. In his moment's pause her vengeful fingers curled about his throat, the effect instant. Violent shivers racked his body and his breaths became laboured. Beneath her fingers his skin turned blue. His own power deep within her loosened and she took a full breath. She squeezed harder, the skin of his throat now clear like crystal. Aesa could see the veins beneath and his spinal cord still strong. With a wicked smile she squeezed, his neck shattering into a thousand pieces, killing him instantly. No blood poured from the wound, for it too was frozen. Her own lungs melted and she took in more shuddering breaths, feeling how close she had come to death.

Raken watched with thundering anger screaming for release. The sun was beginning to set and it was only then that the enemy scum finally broke rank and made for their walled city. They had fought with a renewed vigour this day; it had cost many Mage their lives to break them. This would not do. His General rode to him with an equally enraged look upon his face. He shook his head. They would discuss this in private. No matter. Raken told himself. They still broke. They shall always break. And soon shall come my reinforcements. Finally I shall have a circle. With that thought to sustain him, Raken returned to his tent to seek counsel with his General.

Chapter 40

Ezhra awoke early, the sun not yet rising. The day had arrived when she would travel to the Dragons Teeth mountains and join her brother. There was no dread in her heart, for she would do what needed to be done. But she was sad to know she would have to say goodbye to her friends and family, to look upon their faces one last time knowing she would never return. She had told no one of her agreement with the King. Now as she dressed quickly, she doubted she could. How could one say goodbye? Was it not less cruel to simply slip away? She knew that it was cowardice to covet such a thought, but should she not be entitled to one such act? Her promise to the King had been to try and make contact with the Goddess, reach out a welcoming hand to her foresight. But Ezhra's visions had never worked in such a way, they came unexpectedly, without warning. But a promise was a promise. Closing her eyes now seemed logical, Evindäl was always telling her to use logic to justify her actions. Please Aodolys. She thought desperately. When nothing happened she felt a spike of self-doubt. Then she thought of Evindäl, stroking her hair many years before. "Your hair is a symbol that you have been touched by the Goddess." He had told her, she had never believed him. And yet as more and more power evolved within her, she began to wonder. I fear we are near the end. Soon I shall have nothing left to give. As soon as the thought popped into her head she was blinded in a world of no colour, lifting her hands before her eyes she could no longer see them. Only a deep blackness so oppressive she nearly cried out. Calming her breathing she welcomed the vision she knew was coming. It came in bursts, images scrambled together in a fast display of knowledge which left her dizzy. Finally, the vision came to a close and a blinding bright white light stung her eyes and left her dazed.

"Thank you Goddess." She whispered to the air. Though the vision had been confusing and left many holes in her knowledge, Ezhra knew where she must go.

Chapter 41

Lenia squinted into the distance, desperately trying to catch her bearings. She thought she had studied the maps well enough. But here she was, lost Goddess knew where. She was such an idiot. Her Grandparents had kept her at home for a reason, she was not yet ready for war. Too young and inexperienced. Too naive and fragile. That is what they said, though she knew they meant it well their words had still stung. There were others, with far less help than she had, fighting for their loved ones. Why should she be any different? Because you can't find your way to the army you stupid girl. She thought miserably. She was about to stop her horse and set up camp when she saw it, a light blinked on in the distance, hope lit within her like a flame and without realising it Lenia was cantering toward the source of light. A village, she was nearing a village! Maybe she could find hot food and a warm place to stay. She would bunk in with the horses if necessary. A smile sprung on her lips and her thoughts grew more positive as she rode to her safe haven. Her excitement grew so intense that all other thoughts evaporated, she did not notice that as she rode through the village, there were no other lights burning. Nor did she notice that there was no sound from any house. It was not until she reached the house with the light, that Lenia's defences came up and she realised she had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

Evindäl stared out from the city walls, it had come to be one of his favourite places to think. It was peculiar he knew. For spreading out into the distance, tens of thousands of campfires flickered in the night air. They promised death at the hands of madmen, the eventual destruction of the walls which right now he rested his hands upon. Those campfires helped feed the men who had come here to slaughter. There had been no attempts at peace talks, only death. His fingers bore down into the stone, leaving slight grooves, he quickly released his clenched fists. Every day they came at the city with more force, even now they could see right in the distance that they were nearly finished making the contraptions which would help bring down the walls to nothing but rubble. Too many Elindorians had been killed trying to burn and defecate those contraptions, but to no avail. They were protected with sword and magic. They had days, at most a week, before the wall he stood upon would be no more. His father joined him, placing his hands on the square blocks which made up the wall. They simply stood for a time, neither speaking. Evindäl knew why his father had chosen to stand at this point. The wall encircled the whole city and even here, where the activity was, there was a length of almost a whole league to choose from. His Father had sought him out. It had been two days since Ezhra had left, she had not said goodbye. He could understand her doing so, but to know he would never see her again had left him a shell of the man he once was. His thoughts were only of her, when he closed his eyes he saw her smile. He knew he should be concentrating on the fight, all of them could sense that they were coming to the end of the long war, but his broken heart would not allow it. More than once he had tried to leave, chase after her, lay down his life beside her. But Elmon had prepared for it and every time he was caught and returned to his father and his bride. Though he felt no love nor friendship for the woman he now called wife, he could not help but feel a tremor of pity when he looked upon her, for in her eyes he saw anger at him. She did not understand why he could not simply forget Ezhra. But to even conceive of such a thing was alien to him.

"She wanted this son." Elmon finally said, his voice grave. Evindäl knew this. He had seen his father deny Ezhra when first she had asked to go. But he could not find it in his heart to forgive him. "She would have gone anyway." Evindäl did not reply. A part of him, somewhere deep down, whispered that it was childish to ignore his Father in such a way, but the rest of him knew there was simply nothing to say. Eventually, his Father placed his hand on Evindäls shoulder and squeezed, before melting away. He stayed rooted to his spot, his hands becoming ice cold where they rested on the rock. The sun set and the moon rose and still he stood. He had found there were no more tears, in the distance he could just make out the tops of the Dragons Teeth range. Heavy clouds hung close to the tops, grey and black and cracking with lightning. Through the sounds of boots clapping on stone and men's heavy breathing from running up the steps to reach the top of the wall, Evindäl heard someone approaching him. Light of foot with the sound of material brushing against the floor, he knew it was Irissa.

"Husband. We are sitting down to dine, won't you join us?" She asked. Her words were fair and seemingly kind, but they were bristled with a tone of contempt and disgust.

"I do not seek company tonight Irissa." She came and stood next to him, so petite and young looking he felt sick. He had lain with her. Just the once. He had said the spells written in Gadriel's journal so as no more Mage's would come forth from their union. But still, that did not dampen the horrified feeling within his heart. He had refused at first, denying her until she threatened him. I will command my father to pull back the troops if you do not treat me as your wife. She had said. Whilst he wanted to believe she would never fulfil the vow, one look in her crazed eyes had rectified his thoughts. Sick to his heart at what he had done he vowed to never repeat the act. He had lain with another. But he would never do so again. She recognised the look in his eyes and despised him all the more for it, he knew.

"You should get over yourself." She snapped. "I did not want to marry you either." Before turning on her heel and making her way back down the stairs. He actually knew that was not strictly true. She had wanted this; she was the only one who could have stopped the wedding. Her father positively adored her and would never have made her go through with the union if she had not wanted it. But now, the young Princess was beginning to realise the extent of her mistakes.

"She's not very nice is she?" Ema remarked. He had heard her approach also and known she was listening. He smiled slightly and shook his head.

"No she is not." He replied. "Are you on your own?" He asked, looking around for Vita or Aesa.

"They are at the bottom, Aunt Vita took one look at the stairs and said she wasn't bloody climbing them until the Svetian's were here." He wanted to frown at her for her use of bad language, but couldn't find it in him instead he laughed a little invoking a smile from her. "And I asked Aunt Aesa to stay at the bottom. I wanted to give you something." He knelt down so she was closer to his height.

"Ok child, what is it?"

"A letter, from Ezhra." She replied. The world stopped, to Evindäl it seemed as though it was holding its breath, no wind stirred his hair nor sounds reached his ears. A low sob almost escaped but ended somewhere in his throat. A goodbye letter. Could he read it? "She made me promise not to tell anyone until the moon rose on the second night. And then she said I had to give it to you, no one else." She passed him the small letter, which was closed with Ezhra's family's insignia of a mountain and a single flame in the centre. His hands trembled. "I can stay, whilst you read it if you like?" He nodded once, unable to bring forth the words, and the two of them settled down on the ground, their backs to the wall which they hoped would be their salvation. Slowly, careful not to rip it, he opened the letter to reveal her words written in her looping handwriting within.

Mëi Paratr,

I have little time to write these words and fewer ways to convey what I must say. Firstly, know that I love you; though your hand belongs to another, I know your heart belongs to me. I am sorry that I left without saying goodbye Mëi paratr, but I hope you understand that if I had attempted any goodbyes, I may never have had the courage to do what I must. Your father, the wily bugger that he is, made me promise that I would seek counsel with the Goddess before I departed with the men. I thank him for his counsel, I have been granted a vision. Like most, it is a confusing one and even now I am unsure of its meaning. You believe I have gone to join my brother in death. This is not the case. By the time you are reading this my intentions will have unfolded, I will have been captured by Svetian Mage's and will likely be deep within their camp. I have seen a glimmer of how I can save our lands from this evil, alas, it comes with my death. It is a sacrifice I willingly make so that you and our people will live. I write this letter so that you will know what has become of me, but also to remind you of something which I will carry with me this day, it is what will keep me going when I want to give up, what will bring me light when I see only dark. There is always hope.

I have always been yours Evindäl, I believe that I was born to love you.

Goodbye Mëi Paratr, Mëi Mhrate-ar, may we meet again in the light of our Goddess.

Lenia screamed as rough hands pulled her down from her saddle. Hands groped at her, caring little that their nails cut her skin and that their grubby fingers left bruises on her skin. A hand covered her mouth and she noticed that the nails were perfectly manicured. How odd. She thought, meaning both that she had noticed and that they were. Fear surrounded her as she began kicking out against her captors. But her gifts were not in the art of fighting and her boots fell short of making any real damage, other than one muffled outburst.

"Enough!" Someone called out, their tone snapping through the night air. The man approached from the shadows, as he grew larger in her vision her eyes widened in terror. The man was huge, six foot six at least with black hair which hung to his shoulders neatly and dark honey coloured eyes the likes of which she had never seen before. A long jagged scar ran from his hairline down to his chin, it caused an otherwise pleasant face an ugly one. But it was the look in his eyes which she most feared, for in them she saw emptiness, no anger no mercy. Nothing. "You are a foolish girl to be out riding all by yourself." He said drawing closer, he pulled a wicked looking knife from his belt and held it close to her face. She wanted to ask for mercy, to beg him to spare her life, but no words came. All she could think of was the knife waving before her eyes. He used it to pull her hood down, her face fully exposed. The grin spread even further, displaying perfect white teeth. "Very foolish indeed." Razor hot pain shot through her as he drew his blade across the skin behind her ear, she could not see what he had done, but knew that whatever he had marked her with was a symbol. That she now belonged to him. "She is not to be touched! She will fetch a fine reward at the Palace. Put her with the others." And she was being pulled away, her body and spirit being wrapped in rope, now a slave to the Mage with the scar.

Raken stared in horror as one thousand fresh recruits marched obediently into his camp. A multitude of questions raged through his mind, but above all else he felt the red hot embers flaring deep within of anger so ferocious all need fear him. The rage twisted and turned growing in intensity with each passing moment and who was he to deny it? Without conscious thought a stream of air extended from his fist, shimmering, barely visible, to coil at his feet like a whip. The whip he had taught his dear Zadok to create so many moons ago. How he missed that boy, his most loyal Guardian. He had once given Katsa to Zadok for a whole evening, an unprecedented occurrence but the boy had earned it. He had even bestowed upon the boy a far greater gift than Katsa's services. Raken had given him power. He grinned sadistically as the new recruits halted before him. Zadok should be polluting the minds of the Elindorians, whispering his honeyed words into their ears and turning neighbour against neighbour, brother against brother. The pain Zadok had borne to receive the gifts bestowed upon him had been excruciating Raken knew, but it was a sacrifice Raken was willing to make. He swept his eyes across the faces before him until they fixed on one. The leader. Raken took a step forward, smile firmly in place as he spread his arms out wide. With a flick of his wrist as quick as lightning his whip shot out, coiling lethally around the leader's neck. One tug was all it took for the man to be sprawled at Raken's feet like an offering to the gods. Welcoming the anger was good, it helped keep Raken's head. He would have just killed the man, simple and quick. But no, he should listen to the rage searing through his being. These men and women must be taught a lesson. Vigilance was everything in war. These men and women had broken their vigil when they passed by those who even at this moment were doing all in their power to hinder the war efforts of the Svetians. Raken's eyes moved from the man begging at his feet to the others, he drew on the fear in them, let it sink in as he called upon the true power of the Mage's. The gift bestowed upon them by the Gods most coveted. Fire. It spread over the man's skin in a loud roar, the hairs upon his body catching fire instantly, the smell of his burning flesh burst forth but Raken kept his hold on the whip, preventing the man from moving as he burnt to death at Raken's feet. He glanced down with an amused look to see that the man's fingers were bloody from trying in vain to claw the whip from his throat. It did not take long for him to die.

Ezhra sat impatiently waiting. She knew they would come, but did they have to take so damn long? The villages and towns had all been evacuated, the people now safely within the city walls, some would continue travelling deeper into Elindor away from the fighting. Seeing as Elion and his crew had been plundering the supplies, she knew that the Svetian's would send patrols into all deserted towns and villages to pillage what they could of the food. She sat in the town of Aderly. Simple in its design, its streets were built on a grid lock system and so were easy to navigate. As such, she waited at the town square, where a parade of shops stood abandoned. Shops had been left with all belongings still within, the dress makers shop still had a mannequin stood outside, its clothes flapped in the wind. The only sound other than her breathing. The longer she sat there the more she hesitant she became. Her plan had so many holes she knew it very likely she would fall through one. And yet she continued to wait. As the hours had trickled by, Ezhra had experimented. Dressed in a stolen dress from the shop, simple and sturdy, she had thrown dirt on it to make it seem more worn. There was no way to cover her scar, but she was hoping with her new hair style, she would not be recognised. Using a tincture of paints Ezhra had managed to dye it a chestnut colour and even she could hardly recognise herself. When she was ready, Ezhra had begun practising Weaving. She stared at the ground, concentration leaving a slight furrow in her brow. But no matter how hard she tried, she could barely make the ground ripple let alone do anything else. She really should be pleased, this was after all her plan, eating the strange plant which had been shown to her in a vision had tied her powers off, meaning they would capture her and not just kill her on sight. But as the hours dragged by loneliness pressed down on her, suffocating what little hope was left in her heart.

Elion nodded slightly to Erics as the elf made to leave. They had all said their goodbyes and he did not feel like reminding himself of what was to come. Two hundred men and elves. Standing together and dying together. Elion's job was high up in the mountains. He would rain as much destruction on the Svetian's as he could, with the help of the fifty men under his command. Erics moved quickly and within two blinks was out of sight. He was leading the men at the front of the traps. They were in charge of setting them off in a timely manner, leading the Svetian's to the main group. This whole plan was resting on the right timing. If they moved too soon, most of their enemies would pass by safely leaving more men to fight head on. If they waited too long too many will have got past the traps they had so carefully laid out. Elion was definitely glad he was not in charge of the timing. He had always had a terrible habit of being late. All he need to do is begin their assault when the signal went up. He would direct the archers. Their arrows already embedded in the ground, ready at a moment's notice. Elion began his climb. Not long now. He knew, could feel the slight tremors in the earth which spoke to him, they were coming.

Evindäl banged his fists on the table, Aesa had never seen him so angry.

"You must see reason father!" He roared, not caring who heard his outburst. Aesa wanted to comfort him, but she felt the quaking anger within her too.

"I will not risk our men to look for her! She chose to go in their camp Evindäl. It was her choice. She has not asked for us to come look for her, that is not within her plan. It is you who must see reason son. Do not let your feelings cloud your judgement." But his words fell on deaf ears as Evindäl swept out of the room so fast Aesa had to blink to make sure she wasn't imagining it. They were in the council chamber and her eyes had been tempted to look at the history books of war adorning the walls but she kept her attention on the King. The King turned back to her, his cool eyes bored into her and she suddenly felt very uncomfortable. She had witnessed the brute strength and abilities of elves in Ezhra and she did not wish to be on the wrong side of one. In truth, she did not fully comprehend why she was even here. Evindäl had asked her to accompany him when he came down from the wall with Ema. "What say you Healer?" The King commanded. She had thought she was done being frightened, but terror etched into her heart. Standing up, though it did little good with her barely reaching the King's chest, she pushed away her fears.

"I agree with Prince Evindäl." She spoke surely, not allowing any quiver in her voice give away her unease. "Lady Ezhra'lí has done more for this kingdom than any other, she has the love and respect of all. She has not only chosen to give her life for this cause, but also risked what is very likely to be a long and hideously painful death. She may not have said it, but we owe it to her to try and save her life."

"And if her life means the destruction of those trying to kill us all? What then?" She thought a moment, not because she had to think of her answer, but because she was unsure how to word it.

"The price is too high, there will be another way. Ezhra brought me here because she saw I was the answer. Listen to her vision and listen to me when I say we must find her." But he was shaking his head and turning away. The love for her friend clouded her judgement, and she saw him only as a callous man, she did not see the lines upon his face nor the weary look in his eye. She could not feel the disgust in his heart for what must be done.

"I loved her like a daughter. But I have many children whose lives depend on me. I will not risk this war for her. She has acted with honour, we should respect that." His use of past tense sickened her and she rushed out of the room, her fists quivering at her side. She looked for Evindäl but there was no trace of him and she had no idea where to look. The corridor from the room stretched out in both directions with doors all along it. She could spend hours trying to find him. Instead, she decided it would be better to go and speak to Faelyn whom she knew was with Aunt Vita and Ema. She headed off with a purposeful stride, the King may not want to find Ezhra but she sure as heck did.

Ezhra's heart was calm and still when they came. She watched their approach from the steps of the town hall, long before they noticed her. It had not taken much to make herself cry, she simply had to think of all that she had lost, but she did not let the pain take over within. It masked her face in an image of heartache, but inside she was cold as ice. They approached warily, with raised swords and balls of fire for light. For once, she kept her empathy gift open, reaching with thin tendrils with only a pinprick of the power that she normally possessed. They said you never missed something until it was gone, she didn't know about that but she certainly knew she had never fully realised the power within her until this moment.

"P p please help me." She snivelled, staring at them imploringly. One man approached warily, his black hair was long and held back in a tail at the nape of his neck, one of his ears was missing, leaving an ugly scar. As the light from his fire ball lit up her face he back away slightly with a gasp.

"An elf." He whispered, more to himself than the others. They all approached, the silver of their blades flickering menacingly in the red orange light.

"Please." She said again, pushing the tears from her eyes to emphasise her plea.

"What business do you have here?" The man with the scar asked briskly.

"Please sir." She whispered. "My ma and pops, I don't know where they gone to. Went to gather herbs I did, for my pops and his aching back. Came back and everyone's gone." She allowed a quiver of fear to run through her voice.

"Why didn't you heal him? Your father?" He asked, though she heard a sliver of sympathy creep through and he lowered his sword a notch.

"Don't have much power sir. Why my real parents up and left me here. My ma and pops took me in they did when I was just a child." She could see thoughts going through his head, trying to piece together the puzzle.

"Londin!" He called out suddenly and another Mage came forward, this one long and sinewy with a hooked nose. "How powerful is she?" He asked quietly, perhaps not expecting her to hear. Londin approached her and she could see he had one black eye and one green. He held out a hand, which she took, unable to stop herself from looking at his odd eyes. When he straightened back up she heard him whisper.

"Hardly a sliver sir." The scarred man nodded.

"How old are you girl?"

"Sixty and three sir. Do you think my ma and pops are dead?"

"I don't know girl. But if they're alive then they up and left you too. Nobody left here but you. You come with me I'll take care of you. I promise." She could see the deceit in him, could feel it through her weak hold on empathy. But she smiled shyly as though believing every word.

"My name's Luce." She offered standing up to join him.

"Zekeil." He said. She followed them willingly, though she knew he was taking her to him. To their leader. She feigned ignorance, allowing Zekeil to lead her to her death.

Chapter 42

Aesa stepped back and forth before Vita's eyes, pacing away her concerns. If the floor had not been covered with a plush carpet Vita thought it possible Aesa would have worn tracks in the ground. After her niece had returned from her meeting with the King and Prince, they had been hoping Evindäl may come to find them. So far their wait had been in vain.

"Aesa. Will you bloody stop pacing you're going to make my head spin." She exclaimed suddenly, feeling her frayed nerves come apart at last. Her niece barely heard her, Vita could see by the look in Aesa's eyes that she was not completely in the room. At times like this, when her eyes gazed to a distant place, Vita wanted nothing more than to shake her back to reality. But she had lived for nearly fifty summers and experience told her to back off. Finally, as though in answer to their prayers, there was a knock on the door. Aesa opened it in a hurry, nearly knocking herself out as it flew backwards.

"Ladies, I am sorry to bother you." Evindäl said politely, his handsome face was pale and dark circles sat below his eyes. He looked nothing more than a tormented man, which Vita supposed he was.

"Don't be daft, come in." Vita replied, beckoning him in with her hand. He stayed standing next to Aesa who looked at him expectantly. He ran a hand back through his hair.

"I will not do as my Father has commanded. He wants us to stay hidden behind these walls whilst she is out there willing to die for this land." He stopped talking, his tired eyes searching the room. Nobody spoke, Vita hung on his last breath, waiting for him to reveal his plan. "We have a fantastic vantage point within these walls. Fighting by sending out pockets of soldiers to meet their attacks, but we must push against their men. Whilst we are prepared for a long and drawn out campaign, I think the time has come for us to defeat our enemies once and for all. Ezhra would not have done as she has done without good reason. She believes that the final battle is upon us, she would not have sacrificed her life in this way if not. She left me the letter to say goodbye, but also as a clue. There is always hope. My father agrees that it is time for us to bring the fight to them once more. There is little time before they bring down the walls which now protect us. Before that happens we need to act." He whispered a cloaking spell, so that his words would not be heard by any passers-by and then he relayed the plan. When he finished speaking both Vita and Aesa were nodding along, Vita's head was full of determination. They could all sense the end closing in around them. It was time to change the game.
Chapter 43

Dawn came the next day with a sky clear for many leagues. The sun rose surrounded by hues of red and yellow and as Evindäl watched from the Eastern tower he thought of Ezhra's long hair. As her powers grew more potent he had come to truly believe what he had once told her so many years ago. She had been touched by the Goddess. He stepped away from the wall and turned to the courtyard below. Men spread through the courtyard and into the streets beyond. Upon the wall men and women ran back and forth, working to ensure their fortifications were strong. A light breeze ruffled his hair. The steps to the bottom of the wall were two hundred strong, they were carved into the inner side of the wall before half way down extending out from the wall, although Evindäl had little cause to worry he knew they were daunting to many. The steps within the towers were safer but today Evindäl was not playing safe. At the very bottom of the stairs was a raised block of stone where his Father and the war council all stood waiting for him. It was a long way down. The sounds of the Svetian's marching, fists banging on their shields, voices crying into the air filled the city streets. He could see, even from here, that the men were scared. His Father was preparing to address the army, but Evindäl felt a presence with him giving him inner peace and urging him to step in. The men and women loved and respected his Father, despite everything so did he. But he knew in his heart that this was his day. He glanced over at Aodolys, now fully visible in the sky. Some may think he was crazy, but Evindäl knew it was her who was with him in that moment, giving him a sense of what he must do. Turning his eyes away he took a deep breath and stepped off the wall.

Aesa stood with her Aunt, both dressed in their strange battle clothes. She could feel her heart pounding with adrenaline as the sounds of hundreds of thousands of warriors echoed through the city. She looked at the King, standing nearby ready to speak and then she looked up, could just make out Evindäl at the top of the wall looking down on them. A strange calm fell on him, like she had not seen since Ezhra left. And then he simply stepped out into thin air. Screams from all around erupted as the men and women watched their Prince plunge to his death, people rushed forward in a surge. He fell not with arms splayed outward and fear in his eyes, but in a smooth position and a smile upon his lips. When he hit the ground she expected a noise, a crash, the sound of breaking bones. What she did not expect was to see him crouching low, his hands and feet on the floor. She did not expect to see him stand up tall and walk to his Father's side. Even Elmon looked at him in a new light. The crowds stopped in their tracks, silence settled over them all once more. He leant over his Father and the others whispering softly, they all nodded seemingly unable to speak. His cool gaze looked out over them all, it passed by quickly but as his eyes swept by her Aesa felt a stirring sense of patriotism. This was not her land, but she felt connected to these people. She wanted to protect them. Her journey had been one of vengeance, but as Evindäl's hazel eyes pulled attention to him, she felt a stirring within her. Her journey had shifted slightly, not only one of revenge but one of sacrifice and friendship.

"Friends" His voice rang out clearly, it passed through the crowds easily. "I can sense that hope grows weak and fears grow strong." There were ashamed nods all around. "The Svetian's are banging at our door, their blood magic sending terror into our hearts, their sheer numbers filling us with dread. But I am here to tell a different story. I stand before you, not as your Prince, but as one of you. I have stood with you as numbers far greater than our own have tried time and time again to overpower us. And still we fight. I have watched with you as our men and women have died and I have fought with you as we brought our vengeance down on them, as hard and ferocious as a hammers blow. They came to our lands expecting little resistance but every step of the way we have made them bleed for the ground they stand upon. In your fear you could have turned and fled, you could have looked to those stronger than you and begged them to take over the fight. But still we fight. For too long we have watched our kin die, for too long we have fought and retreated giving up land which is ours. For too long we have feared those who are nothing more than bullies and tyrants. For too long we have been fighting, like a river against a dam. But on this day we fight back, we become the ones to be feared, our arrows shall rain down on them, our magic shall leave them quaking, our swords shall demand their blood. On this day we bring the fight to them, we show them how ferocious the river can be once unleashed as we crash over their numbers. On this day we fight to send those creatures back to the abyss they spawned from. Who will fight with me?" An almighty roar drowned out all other noise and thought and Aesa screamed with those surrounding her. Her blood pumped hot through her body, eager for the fight. The great gates opened like a jaw waiting to consume the flesh.

Evindäl turned to the council as the cries of the army reached the skies above. They too were crying out with rage and determination. Jaxon's sword was high above his head and Elmon looked ready to spit fire. His Father was leading the charge, Haroun leading the northern flank and Ayred the Southern. Jaxon would be directing the attack from the walls. Faeries, by nature, were second to none in archery and Jaxon was one of the best of his kind. Evindäl approached his Father quickly, Haroun and Ayred sensed that they should be near and so stayed to listen.

"Father, I must go after her. I will go without your blessing but would not go without you knowing it." Elmon remained quiet and although they did too, he could see how much Ezhra's family wanted to speak. Eventually, the King nodded his assent before offering his forearm to Evindäl in a strong grip.

"You can take nine others. Leave Vita, she will be invaluable on the walls. Take two Weavers, I can spare no more. You can join the Southern flank, there will be the easiest to fight your way through." Chest's expelled all around as they all let out the breaths they had been holding.

"Thank you Father."

"Good luck lad. Bring my girl back to me." Haroun said, his voice deep with emotion. The elves were done with horses now. Their human allies finally coming to terms with their neighbours strange abilities. Elmon leapt to the front of the crowd and Haroun and Ayred quickly disappeared to lead their own charges. Evindäl was at Aesa's side in a blink, all around them seemed chaos but Evindäl knew there was structure and a plan and that eased his racing heart.

"Aesa, you're with me. We ride for Ezhra. Vita, you are needed on the wall and if Dashél needs you he will call for you, your Healing will likely be called upon before nightfall."

Vita nodded grimly as Evindäl told her she was needed on the wall, he left her alone with Aesa for a moment whilst he collected his chosen ones to help save Ezhra. Aunt and niece stared at each other for a moment and Vita felt the sting in her throat that told her she was close to tears. They had been in battle before, but this felt different. Aesa's eyes were ice, but as the moments dragged by and realisation struck that this could be the last time they would look on each other, something melted.

"Aunt Vita, I love you, you know? I meant what I said back in Rhebeth, you have been by world for a very long time." Vita did not know what to say, tears spilled over her cheeks as she thought of her precious little girl and all that they had been through.

"Let's hope I can carry on being your world after today aye?" She said eventually and Aesa rewarded her with one of her rare smiles. "I love you Aesa." Evindäl returned with eight others, one of whom was Stavros. She could see in all of their eyes how much they admired Ezhra, they had been chosen for that reason. She sneaked a glance at the stairs leading up to the top of the wall and then back to Evindäl. He caught her eye and smiled slightly. It was quite discerning, having spent time with Ezhra she had gotten used to the youthful face and the ageless eyes. But she was not yet used to Evindäl. He looked barely twenty summers and yet his eyes and his knowledge begged to differ. He knew she was too damn proud to ask.

"Healer Vita. You are needed urgently at the top of the wall, I am afraid I am going to have to insist that you allow me to take you." She scowled slightly and harrumphed, but said nothing as he took her in his arms and ran full speed, sometimes leaping up the stairs. In truth, whilst terrifying, it was also a very exhilarating experience. Not that she would ever admit it.

Ezhra woke with a groggy mind and a fuzzy mouth. It did not take long for her to realise she had been drugged. Her last memory was of taking a drink of wine from the creepy Mage with the mismatched eyes, Londin, she recalled. Now she was waking up on the floor of a tent with no furnishings whatsoever. Her throat was dry as sand and felt as though she had swallowed a knife. It was difficult to move her head further than an inch off the floor, so she decided to rest for a moment. A pair of slippered feet came into view as someone entered the tent. The weathered hand which grabbed her arm and yanked her up was not kind and it took a moment for the world to stop spinning. Whatever measly food she had eaten over the last few days threatened to spill over his slippered feet. The hand suddenly gripped what was left of her hair and pulled her head back. A face came into view, at first it looked as though she were looking through water but her vision soon cleared. The man had wrinkles upon his face caused by a lifetime of frowning not smiling, his hair had been a dark brown colour but was now mainly grey. Eyes the colour of murky water bored into her, so intense it were as though they were reading her deepest secrets. She quickly glanced down, taking in his attire. He wore a blood red robe which opened over black clothes. She had never seen a Mage dressed in this way.

"I am Priest Halok. You and I are going to become very close indeed." He said, his voice sounded like gravel. Something dark lurked in his eyes and Ezhra was very aware that she was at the mercy of a madman. "You have been drugged, you will be unable to reach your meagre power. Your superior strength and speed have been sapped from you. You are completely mine." He drawled and fear truly gripped her. He recognised the look and grinned. "It is a concoction of my own making, you are the first elf I could try it out on but it seems to be working just fine. To be on the safe side, one of my, shall we say colleagues, will be taking care of you for the next few hours. Under my supervision of course. If you pass the test we shall take you to our Leader. He has been so eager to capture one of your dirty kind." He called out and a burly Mage swept in, his muscles breaking out of the confines of his leather uniform. There was little intelligence beneath his eyes but his sheer size spoke volumes. She struggled as he reached for her, but her threw her over his shoulder like she was nothing, her head thumped against his back uselessly and threatened to knock her out again. Their journey was not a long one. They entered another tent, this one furnished with a single table. As the burly Mage pushed her down she felt something warm seep into her dress. She lifted one heavy hand up and stared at her fingertips now stained crimson with blood. Realisation dawned on her. Lady Ezhra'lí fifth child of Lord Haroun and Lady Rhaenion Lucianno, willingly captured to try and save her kingdom, stared at the blood of her people, felt it covering her body like water in a bath, then she opened her mouth and began to scream.

Elion kept his breathing calm as he looked down from his vantage point. There was little cover but the Mages now marching in rows of ten did not glance up. Even if they did he trusted he was hidden enough to remain unseen. He glanced left and right and then over the cavern to the cliff opposite. His eyes managed to sight his companions as he knew where to look. The only part of them which was not covered in grey cloth was their eyes. Elion's position was in the centre of their activity. Already he had seen an endless number of men and women filing past. The very ground shook slightly, tremors from the hoard travelling below. Elion felt a trickle of fear. Not for himself, for he had made peace with his own future, but for his people. He and those with him would do all in their power to stop this group from reaching their kinsmen, but it would take all of their lives and still he knew they could not stop them all. But they would try, they could make a difference. His mind wandered to the dragon he had woken, Ator. He wished he could have spent more time with him, asked him questions. He had promised to tell no one, but when writing his final letters to his friends and family it had taken all of Elion's willpower not to write of him in his letter to Evindäl. The Prince would love to meet a dragon; he would know all the right questions to ask without offending him. But a promise was a promise, Elion was a troublemaker, always had enjoyed a prank or two, but he would never go back on a promise. Maybe, after the war, when they came to bury the dead, Evindäl would find Ator's resting place himself. He smiled slightly at the thought.

Vita stood on the ramparts, her heart beating in time with the chants of their enemy. The Elindorian army were quiet, still, calm. It was as though the world held its breath, if only for a moment. But Vita knew all too well the calm that comes before the storm and today they would see a storm the likes of which they had never witnessed before. And Vita was ready. Elindorian men poured from the main gate in formation, they moved as one unit, disciplined. King Elmon and Franko moved forward together, one upon a steed the other on his own two feet. The cavalry men lined up first, though there were a scattering of elves through the ranks. They hefted huge pikes which Vita doubted she would be able to lift with two arms let alone one, but they held them with ease. Jaxon strode past her bending a magnificent bow of cherry wood and attaching the string. The bow was bigger than Vita's whole person but Jaxon managed it with seemingly little effort. He stood beside her for a moment, looking out at the scene before them. The Svetian's were coming, their huge army darkening the ground for leagues. They brought with them catapults, probably designed using ideas pulled from the catapults used in the city. She let out a snort at the irony; their own designs would be used against them.

"What will they throw?" Vita asked suddenly looking at the ground. Jaxon shrugged.

"There are rocks a plenty." She shot him a glare. "But I would be prepared for much more gruesome ammunition my lady." It took a moment for her to catch his meaning, but once she did her stomach roiled.

"They would throw our own peoples bodies against us?"

"I suspect so Healer for it will strike terror into the hearts of many." He looked tired all of a sudden and tried to smile, to offer her some comfort. "Archers! To the walls!" He suddenly roared making her jump. Fifty faeries stepped forward, all holding bows such as Jaxon's. He seemed to notice her dubious expression. "We will reach from here Healer, don't worry. After the armies are joined we shall fly out and target people from overhead. My second in command, Lord Belin shall take over leadership whilst I am airborne." Vita looked north and south, though she knew she would not see Haroun and Ayred's armies until later, they would appear in surprise flanking the Svetian's and bottling them in. All of a sudden it was time, she knew it, could sense it in the world. King Franko took out a golden horn and blew through it, a long trumpeting sound erupted and with it their armies slammed weapons against shields in salute. And then they charged.

Elion looked left and right, in both directions all he could see along the path below was a swath of black cloth and marching Mages. He looked up at the sun Goddess who now reached her peak. Midday. It was time. He raised his hand to his head, signalling the men opposite. Silently, they all grabbed their bows and took an arrow, knocking them. Elion knelt with the feathers tickling his face, taking slow breaths. A sudden sound from deeper in the mountain pass echoed, a scream. Those below looked around in a panic, stopping in their tracks. In their confusion they did not see what was coming, could not comprehend. Fifty men released their first arrows and death rained upon the invaders.

Ezhra did not want to scream, she wanted to absorb the pain and let it wash over her, but her captor had other plans. One of her hands lay at her side, the fingers all bent at awkward angles from being broken. Her dress had been torn, the skirt all but ripped off to reveal her legs, which now were warm with blood. He had taken pleasure in sliding his knife up and down her legs, cutting her deeply but not enough to kill her. Her vision blacked out for a moment and Ezhra had the release of passing out. Ice cold water splashed across her sending tendrils of freezing cold through all her limbs. She whimpered. He would not let her pass out, he would not let her die. Her lips were dry and cracked from dehydration, she lay within the tent but there was no roof, they left it open to the elements. At this moment the Goddess shone down at her, giving her a small ray of hope, which was quickly dissolved when her captor lifted her other arm and brought his fist down in the centre, she heard the bone crack, her own scream and then nothing.

Chapter 44

Vita looked at the two armies crashing together, the Elindor cavalry raced ahead of the main army, surging to meet the battle head on, elves raced with them. She saw the horrific barbed pikes of the enemy lowered in wait and she could not help but feel dread for the men racing forward on their steeds.

"Ready!" Jaxon called out, taking an arrow. "Aim! FIRE!" A swarm of arrows arched high into the air and sailed forward, impossibly far, before each and every one hit a target in the enemy ranks. Many with pikes fell, but others rushed forward to take their place. "Fire!" Another volley rained down. "Fire!" The Elindorian's were close now, so close they would be able to see the faces of the enemy they were going to kill. Jaxon halted the firing as the two armies joined. At the last moment, when the cavalry were nearly upon them, the elves leapt as one, impossibly high, impossibly far. They landed behind the pike men of Svet. Many of the enemy moved, surprised by the jump and in that single moment of uncertainty, the Elindor cavalry crashed down upon them, the horses hooves crushing skulls, swords maiming bodies, flying pikes felling those who tried to flee. The elves jumped around, moving impossibly fast, killing whoever got in their way. King Elmon amidst them. "Ready men!" Jaxon cried out, clipping a quiver of arrows to his waist. Without another word, he leapt onto the wall and then jumped, his magnificent wings unfurling. Five hundred faeries leapt with him. Vita had never seen anything so wondrous and so terrifying. They flew forward, bringing their rain of death closer to enemy ranks, they stayed high and swept over the Svetian's, their arrows losing all over the field of battle. Vita watched as the Svetian's panicked, how could they kill the flying creatures when they could not reach? She almost laughed aloud. Arrows flew into the air, but the faeries dodged them. Blood Magic was called upon, gusts of red tinged air tried to knock them from the skies. Soon the sky was tinged in red as the leaders of the Svetian's screamed at their Mage's to look to the skies. Howling red wind tore through the air, knocking faeries from the sky. As they fell they were set upon by Mage's. Vita watched in horror as one faery fell, he stood up with no injury, ready to take off again, when five Mage's descended upon him, they tore his wings from his back and even from here at this distance Vita could hear his blood curdling screams. They only ceased when his head was cleaved off. Jaxon led his men in a retreat and they returned to the wall. The faeries were an invaluable asset, they could run messages, they were strong and so could man the catapults of the city, they could even carry wounded men back to the safety of the walls, they were not to put themselves in unnecessary danger. As they landed back on the wall, Vita could see the difference in them. Their grief written across all of their faces, Jaxon looked ready to spit fire. In her stupor, Vita had not noticed the old elf Belin commanding that the catapults be readied. Jaxon strode to Belin and they spoke quietly. He lifted the small horn from his waist and rose it to his lips. Three short bursts were a signal and in quick succession the three catapults closest to the Eastern tower released their loads. Huge rocks flew through the air and crashed into the middle ranks of the enemy lines. Jaxon blew three more times and another triple load went off.

"Alston, take your men and evacuate some of the wounded, there are men within reach." Alston took to the air with nine others. "We shall need your Healing in a moment Healer Vita. Dain! I want Dashél on the walls now. I have casualties incoming, they can be seen to here."

"Sir." Dain replied with a nod and flew to the ground below. Vita looked at Jaxon and then at their surroundings, though this section of the wall was large in width it would also soon be under fire from enemy catapults. Dashél arrived followed by other Weavers a while after.

"Jaxon, we have the hospice set up!" Dashél exclaimed, showing anger where Vita had never seen it before. The faery looked at him grimly.

"We are going to need these men back on the field pronto." Both Vita and Dashél gawped but quickly recovered.

"You can't be serious!" Vita said but Dashél was nodding his head. She suddenly felt a peak of anger at him so willingly going along with it, he was supposed to be a Healer!

"Vita." Dashél said softly. "There are men on the field who will continue to fight with blood dripping from their wounds. Those who are brought back here will be broken limbs and worse. We can sort through, the ones we know will not be able to fight and those we know will. Jaxon, I need some men. I will treat patients here, but if they are too hurt to return to the fight I want them returned to the hospice immediately. You know as well as I this place won't be safe much longer." Jaxon nodded.

"Dain, grab Foster, Kellan and Pip. I need you to work under Lord Dashél's command." Vita wanted to argue, but the first of their patients arrived. Alston carried him, a young man barely eighteen summers. A gaping hole in his stomach pumped blood at an alarming rate. Horror wanted to descend upon Vita, but she was a Healer. This was what she did. And so she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

Aesa stood with Evindäl and eight others who had been chosen for the mission. They were amidst the Southern flank, with whom they would punch their way through to Ezhra. Aesa did not need to take steadying breaths, did not need to calm her racing heart. She was entirely consumed with rage, it sang through her veins and beat at her chest. Both hands hung by her side, motionless, though she knew they were ready to be wielded as weapons. The squadron she was with was separated into three parts, the cavalry and pike men, the soldiers and a selection of Weavers who would pinpoint pockets which needed their help. Evindäl and his company were amidst the second section. He turned his gaze to her, nodding briefly. She barely registered the movement. Her thoughts swirled around in her head, but they all centred on one thing. Those who had murdered her family now held her best friend captive. She welcomed the thought, let it embed itself within her brain, it fed her rage. The call was given and the cavalry cantered off, leaving the rest of them running behind. Ayred led the charge within the sea of horses, those on foot were not in need of an inspirational talk. They hungered for the fight. With a battle cry sung out in unison, they surged forward with fervour.

The stench of blood and emptying bowels wafted into Elion's nose and he nearly lost his rations. He and his men had long since run out of arrows, now they hefted rocks down the gorge, though there were few men trying to continue the walk through the deadly pass. Now he no longer needed to aim, Elion could barely make himself peek over the ridge. It was a ravine filled with broken bodies and tortured souls. There were some who took a long time in dying, but Elion had ordered his men to try and spare the suffering. These men needed to die in order for Elindor to live, but they did not have to suffer to do so. Soon it would be time to fight like real men once more, walk down the ascent into hell and stand upon the bodies of the fallen, fight with sword and strength. There were only two hundred Elindorians, they could only set traps for a section of the pass way, even now there would be tens of thousands of men beyond, surging forward, cleaving their way into Elindor. Elion raised a fist and all attacks ceased. The only sound was the heavy breathing of his men and the few final weeps of some poor soul below who was not yet ready to die. He nodded and stood, signalling for them to make their way to the rendezvous point. He could make the journey without stepping down into the pass, but he wouldn't.

"Continue on, I'll catch up." He told Lothin, who nodded silently. Once his men were clear, Elion looked over the ridge. His eyes sweeping across the massacre below. Horror filled him for what he had done as he climbed over the ridge. Climbing down, he used jagged rocks for footsteps, his father had taught him to rock climb as a boy and he made it to the bottom in quick succession. He knew he was there when his boot hit something less solid than the wall he had been upon. Bile rose in his throat once more but he pushed it down, he would not soil the dead. Taking only small breaths, he walked across the bodies like a bridge and found the whimpering man. He lay beneath bodies, only his torso, head and one arm visible.

"P,p,please." The man whispered, though in truth he looked little older than sixteen.

"I can ease your passing soldier." Elion told him, reaching for his dagger. The boy looked below him, for a sign of escape. He knew there was none.

"My mother will be heart broken." The boy whispered through his tears, his words invoked a great sadness in Elion's heart.

"I know exactly how you feel lad." Elion said, as much to himself. "Are you ready?" The boy shook his head.

"I'm scared. I did not even want to come. My Father wrote and said it was my duty."

"Whichever god you worship shall embrace you for your bravery." He said the words, but Elion did not fully believe them. It was not brave to wage war on another's lands.

"Thank you. You are, kind." The boy looked away, up into the sky at the clear blue stretched before them, not a single cloud in sight. "War of this kind is nothing but madness. I shall look upon a thing of beauty as I close my eyes for the last time." With his head bent back and his eyes in the air, Elion plunged his dagger into the boy's heart and life fled instantly.

Chapter 45

Vita was just about ready to drop to the floor and sleep right there. Her clothes were caked in blood, some dry some not. A young boy rushed up as if on cue and passed her a cup of water, she drank most of it using a little to splash on her face to wake herself up. Dashél placed a hand upon her shoulder.

"Tis only midday Healer. You should save your strength, take rest now whilst you can." Midday? She grumbled to herself for a moment before realising Dashél would be able to hear every word with his elven hearing. She scowled.

"There is more to be done." She said through gritted teeth. Jaxon came to them, a grim look upon his face.

"Their catapults are being prepared. I have sent half my men to reinforce those who need it on the field. The order has been sent for our catapults to aim at their machines now they are in view." They all knew that there would be protective spells protecting the contraptions and so their efforts would likely be in vain.

"Bloody hell!" Vita exclaimed, banging a cane on the floor in frustration.

"INCOMING!" A voice cried out and they rushed to the wall to watch the incoming missiles. The faeries remaining and the Weavers all threw up bouts of air to protect as many as possible from the attack, but as Vita looked up she saw it was not rocks blackening the sky, but bodies. They thudded against the barriers Weaved from air and bounced away, falling to the courtyard below. Screams erupted, horrified outrage surged through all of them as they looked upon their comrades, now being used as a weapon against them. Vita looked out at the battlefield and was sickened by what she saw. Fifty catapults now stood tall. The Svetian's had done well keeping those protected from attack. There were sixteen of the devices within the city. They would not be able to take out all of them. Another wave of bodies flew through the air toward them and someone cried out a name as he recognised a face amidst the flying rows of death. Jaxon jumped onto the rampart, and held his hands in the air to command attention, he did not even flinch as the bodies thudded above him once more.

"We are not afraid!" He screamed into the air. "They try to shake us, leave us quaking whilst they prepare for real battle but we do not scare easily! These men died in honour and we shall honour them as they deserve! By killing those who did this to our friends!" A cry went up all along the wall and Vita smiled. Yes, they could do nothing for the poor souls now falling to the floor, but they could do something about those who put them there. Jaxon called some of his men to him.

"I want you to go to all our catapults; they are each to aim at one of the enemy's contraptions, on my signal they will release and then aim for the next." He explained who should aim for which based on their position in the city and the faeries took to the air. He called another ten men and women to him and divided them into teams. "Dashél, ten teams of two shall go out and try to take down the catapults, I shall lead one. Belin is in charge but I want you to lead the catapults, take the horn. Your eyesight is better than his." Belin nodded along, knowing his own strengths and weaknesses. "You shall know when we are near and focus on another one."

"What are they made from?" Vita asked.

"Mainly wood."

"Then take me with you." She demanded. Jaxon looked at her as though she were mad.

"Don't give me that bloody look! I not only command fire I can conjure it; I don't have to pull on the heat around me to do so. Take me with you dammit!" He looked to Dashél for a moment.

"She's right. You could use her gifts."

"Very well." The teams arrived, each ready to take off immediately.

"Be careful Vita." Dashél whispered, touching a hand lightly to her arm, his gaze lingered on hers.

"You too." She replied and then Jaxon was wrapping a muscled arm around her waist and hefting her close to his body. She blinked once and then she was flying.

Aesa heard rather than saw the catapults release, a huge sound like a beast yawning travelled through the air, it caught her attention and she glanced up. Regret hit her instantly as she saw the bodies flying overhead, making their journey to batter at the men on the walls. More and more people looked up in horror, the Svetian's took the advantage and pressed hard. Aesa nearly lost her head to a sword but Evindäl knocked her out of the way and kicked the enemy so hard in the head his neck snapped.

"Never pity the dead! Avenge their murder!" He roared and the Elindorians rallied once more. Aesa threw herself back into the battle, hurling a throwing knife it embedded in the neck of one Mage whilst she sent splitting ice through the veins of another. The woman's body exploded in a shower of icicles so violent those closest to her staggered back.

"Evin!" She called out, an idea forming. He was by her side in a second. He pulled his sword against a Mage who charged them. "Keep them away from me, I have an idea." He gritted his teeth and nodded, defending her with sword and magic as she dug her hand into the ground, focusing all of her hatred into that point. Slowly at first a tendril of blue white ice spread around her wrist, spreading out in a circle, freezing the very ground she stood upon. Evindäl almost slipped but kept his footing at the last minute saving himself from a sword to the gut.

"Aesa!" He screamed out righting himself. She did not respond, all of her concentration was in the ground, in the ice fanning out like a plague looking for victims. She split it, forcing it to travel in streams in many directions, she could not see all of the places where it went but she watched in fascination as the thin tendril reached the boot of the Mage now fighting Evindäl. It stopped moving, attaching itself to his foot, now travelling up his leg and freezing his limbs as it made its steady ascent, terror shone from the man's eyes, his breath came out in white gasps as the blood in his veins froze. The ice reached his heart before his head, they watched as his life disappeared in three laboured breaths, his heart frozen solid, no longer able to beat, he collapsed to the floor and crumbled. A cheer went up and Aesa looked around, Mage's all around her fell in a similar spray of ice shards. A smile of victory spread across her face, followed quickly by a frown as she felt her strength ebb. Pushing the fatigue aside, she rose, ready to strike once more.

Elion arrived at the rendezvous point just in time. He had travelled swiftly, but having heard a sound he could not recognise had scouted.

"Erics?" He whispered to one man who sat on the floor panting. He raised a hand and pointed in the right direction, not wanting to waste energy. "Sir."

"Ah Elion, good you're all here."

"Sir. The Svetian's will be here sooner than anticipated." He said quickly, still keeping his tone low.

"Report."

"I went back to scout when I heard something strange, those coming behind are simply incinerating their kin to reach us quicker. I estimate they will be here within the hour as opposed to the nightfall we anticipated."

"Damn!" Erics exclaimed smacking a fist against his palm. They had counted on the timing working in their favour, now it looked as though there would be little recovery before the battle began in earnest. "Very well. Jones, I need the men in formation. We all made it back so I want four groups of fifty, those who were positioned closest to here at the front, those the furthest at the back. The back three need to rest once in place." Jones rushed off to do as commanded. They had made sure with each original group there was an elf in each, Elion's own position would be in the third group. He looked about him, they would be able to defend their position ten abreast. The pass way was narrow here and like in his last position high walls rose up casting them in a shadow.

"Tis not a very pleasant place to die." He remarked as much to himself as anyone else but Erics replied.

"No. But we shall make it count." Elion nodded. They had chosen this place for a reason, but though they could easily defend, those coming at them all wielded magic. They would not hold for long.

Dashél held the horn in one hand, hating that he smeared blood upon its perfect surface. His eyes were focused, rarely veering from Jaxon and Vita. He glanced at one of the catapults and dread filled his stomach. Its crank was being released and he could see that it was no longer bodies being sent their way.

"Brace!" He screamed and the men ducked behind ramparts. Dashél remained upright, watching as the huge balls of fire and air flew through the air at horrifying speed, it crashed into the wall to his right and ploughed right through, punching a gaping hole in the rampart at the top of the wall. Men were blasted into thin air and fell screaming to the floor below. Dashél raised the horn to his lips to give the command, but paused before blowing.

"Pip!" He cried out to the faery who had been his help that day. "I need you to go to all the catapults and give them a message." He explained what he was doing and Pip rushed off to do his bidding. Dashél held his breath as he scanned for Jaxon and Vita once more. When he saw them he sighed with relief. Belin approached looking more angry than Dashél had ever known him to be.

"Just what is it you are doing Dashél lad? I need those catapults down and I needed them down now!" He roared.

"Elder. Trust me." They stared at each other a moment, Dashél felt himself being measured by the Elders eyes before he finally nodded. He felt sick to the stomach with what he must do, but there was no other way. He watched in horror as the cranks were released on the fifty catapults ahead of him.

Vita did not know which was worse, flying, or watching from this vantage point the battle below. Her head was reeling and she had on more than one occasion nearly lost her stomach onto the men fighting beneath her. Jaxon had squeezed her hand comfortingly, but she did not feel comforted. They neared one of the catapults, it reared out of the ground to an enormous height and suddenly Vita doubted their mission. She watched in horror as the cranks were released and balls of red hot flames arched toward the city they had left behind.

"What the bloody hell is Dashél doing?" She asked Jaxon. Not one of the devices was down yet and there was no sign of an attempt to do so. Jaxon looked back to the walls in confusion. Cranking and clattering filled the air and they watched in horror as all fifty catapults were prepared. Jaxon suddenly let out a laugh and Vita very nearly hit him.

"Don't you see? They have to release the protective spell in order to fire the things. He is waiting until the spells are down." Vita did not want to admit it but that did seem like a pretty good idea.

"Let's get to work."

Dashél blew one long note from the horn and all catapults were released from the city the same moment the enemies released their own. Huge rocks and balls of fire flew toward each other, crashing into their targets at the same time. The wall shuddered with impact and more sections crumbled, though not enough to bridge any gaps in the base. Dashél felt sorrow for what he had had to do, men screamed and fell, others were wounded from flying debris. But as he looked out to the distance, he saw that all sixteen of his catapults had hit their targets.

Jaxon's arm clung to her waist like an iron grip, though she disliked flying she trusted him implicitly. They flew high so as to avoid the notice of those below, at least for as long as possible. Jaxon led his team to one of the catapults, there were protective spells around it, they spiralled from the base to the top in a red tinged mist.

"They have only protected them to a certain point, we can fly into the spell and destroy it that way." Jaxon said, pointing with his free hand to where the mist could be seen to disintegrate. As they entered that circle of relative safety sounds from the outside world became slightly muted. "Let's get to work." Vita willed flames to spring to life before her eyes, they rippled and grew, the heat intense. She controlled it like a snake, pushing the flames to wrap about the catapult. They made their way down the device in that way, wrapping and burning so quickly that it was only as the smell of charred wood reached the noses of those below that the Svetians realised their mistake. Mages looked up in surprise and anger as the catapult began to crumble from the top down, the wood burnt away. Those with Vita acted quickly, pulling on the strings of their bows and releasing arrows which each hit their marks. Those below were dead before the wood collapsed atop their bodies. The spell dispersed, revealing the scene beyond. There catapult was down but there was still many to go. As soon as the spell disappeared the smoke and crash of the catapults collapse echoed out into the air bringing with it unwanted attention. "We split up and act quick." Jaxon commanded, sending teams of two in different directions.

"If you can bring the spells down I can take down more catapults." Vita said quickly, with more confidence than she truly felt.

"Are you sure?" She paused before replying.

"Yes." Jaxon nodded and changed his commands accordingly, they set off to the contraptions closest to them, the faery who travelled with Vita and Jaxon kept all his attention on the ground below, keeping any missiles from harming them with bow and magic. The nine other teams disappeared over the tops of spells and could only be seen with concentration. The spell must become more transparent the further away you were. Vita mused though she knew she was not here to admire the artistry of the spell form. They hovered in the air, in the centre of the nine catapults, waiting withheld breath for the mist to disappear. It did not happen in unison nor in any kind of order, the spells came down when those within found the right Mage to kill. When the first device revealed itself she did not hesitate, drawing on her gifts once more a wall of fire raged before her eyes. She sent it forth and it moved with a vengeance, the flames snapping against the air, hungry for fuel. Vita pulled on more of her power than she ever had before, felt the heat as though her very skin were on fire. The wall crashed into the middle of the catapult. It did not wrap itself around the device like before, nor did it move up or down to do damage, it simply crashed straight through shearing the top from the bottom and rendering it useless. She kept the wall flickering in the distance and looked to the left, more spell forms were disappearing. A grim smile spread on her face, she could do this. She could make a real difference despite her lack of movement.

"There are more to the right too, may I try to call upon the fire myself Healer?" Jaxon asked, though his words were polite she heard the urgency in them. She nodded, though she did not know if it would work. As the wall of death moved left, Jaxon reached out his free hand and coaxed some of the warmth from the flames to separate itself, a ball the size of a fist came away. Jaxon Weaved and the heat expanded, creating a second wall, less ferocious than Vita's but deadly enough in its intensity. Together, faery and Weaver pushed their respective walls of flame. They glided through the wooden devices with little resistance, like a knife through butter.

Aesa stumbled, looking down her eyes saw that she had tripped on a severed arm, the fist still clinging to a broken sword like a life line. It was a sobering sight. She took two deep breaths, for that was all she had time for. In war there was no break, no respite from one's labours. There was killing or being killed. She chose the former. Her clothes were splattered with gore, her hair wet with blood, but she lived still. She could feel it, the Mage's pushing back, she knew it was only a matter of time before the Elindorians had to give up ground. She screamed and rammed a knife into the neck of a Mage with his back turned, he was about to take the head off an Elindor soldier. Hot blood pumped over her clenched fist and she pulled the knife away, letting the man collapse to the floor. A sound so low she almost missed it tipped her off and Aesa spun at the last second, missing a concentrated block of air from punching through her chest, it shore off the head of the soldier she had just saved. Another scream, this one of rage and pity for the man tore from her throat and two columns erupted from her hands, one of ice and the other of fire. The mage laughed low and long, her blonde hair was cut short and she stood tall. For a moment she reminded Aesa of Ezhra, until she used air to repel Aesa's attack and threw a fireball at her. Aesa pulled her wrists together, twisting the fire and ice together, two opposites working together to fight through the defences of the Mage. Her laugh stopped abruptly when she realised she would have to work to fight her opponent. Aesa could see in her brown eyes that she had been stalking the battlefield, killing stealthily and slipping away. She was a coward, nothing more than one who used her superior gifts to prey on the weak. Aesa also recognised the glint in the Mage's eyes for it was one she saw in herself. Madness. Whilst the Mage was distracted by her stream of molten ice, Aesa Weaved air and punched a hole through the Mage's defences. The Mage dove out of the way, avoiding being hit by Aesa's stream. As she rolled away, Aesa chased her with her fire ice and forced the earth beneath her to erupt, debris and dirt rained down on them but still the woman escaped unharmed. Aesa gritted her teeth and attacked once more, earth exploded and she used air to send it back down to the Mage with such crashing force that the rocks cut through the armour and sent her sprawling across the floor. Aesa wasted no time, she whipped her two hands joined at the wrists down in a display of rage, the fire and ice impacting as they touched skin freezing the woman in place and melting her from the inside out. Her screams filled Aesa's ears and sated her hunger, Aesa watched as the blue tinged skin bubbled and blistered as the fire ravaged the Mage's insides. It did not take long for her to die.

They came for her as the chants began, she had heard the cries of the Svetian's from her place in the Elindor camp, but being here in the midst of it was different. The noise was so loud it thrummed through her body and heightened the pain she felt. She could still feel the blood making slow journeys all across her body. Her arms, at one point had been broken. They had toyed with her, snapping bones, burning her skin and cutting deep into her flesh, only to heal her once she was close to breaking point. Her torturer was an adept healer. Priest Halok returned frequently, his skeletal grin began haunting her waking dreams. Sometimes he simply watched. She heard his approach, was always able to discern his footsteps as the slippers on his feet were soft. His face came into view so close she could smell the garlic on his breath.

"It is time dear. I shall take you to Triad Raken, I think he will have even more unpleasant things in mind for you. He is a passionate man dear and likes to sate his hunger on pretty things like you." Tears stung her eyes. She hated to show weakness, but weakness had shown itself when they began breaking her fingers one by one. She gritted her teeth and then spat at him, the gob landed on his face. He let it hang there. No matter what they did to her, she would find a way to kill the Triad. Pain was merely an obstacle she need overcome. His bony fingers wrapped around her neck so hard she saw spots. "It is unlike me, but I may even ask the Triad for a little time with you myself girl." He kept hold, sending her to the brink of passing out, before releasing her. She took in huge gulps of air and poured all of her hate into her eyes as she stared at him. Her torturer returned but she tried not to panic, they would do what they wanted and she was in no position to stop them. She wouldn't even if she could, she was here to do a job and they were simply helping her on the way. Rather than pick up one of his many knives, the torturer undid her ties. She got up at their pestering, her legs so shaky she doubted she could walk. She expected them to tie her hands together, but they saw no threat in her. Instead, as an act of master over slave, they clipped a black leather collar about her neck and looped a long rope through it. Halok enjoyed that immensely. He pulled on the collar and she nearly fell to the floor. As he walked away she was left with no choice but to follow. Her walk through the camp was a slow one, it was spread across the land in a huge mass and they kept the torture tents far from the Triad. She shuddered, thinking of how many of her kinsmen and women had found themselves on the table she had endured. She could hear the screams and cries of the battlefield in the distance, the camp itself was quiet now. Everyone, on both sides seemed to sense this was it, the final fight. Too soon and yet not soon enough she was pulled between two tents and stood before the command tent.

The long moan of the horn blew across the wall and Vita watched as the catapults hurled their missiles across the battlefield. Most of the area before them was awash with the two armies fighting, unable to hit one without the other they resorted to aiming further back, to the camp itself, where even now more and more Mage's ran to join the fray at the commands of their officers. Many missile missed, but enough still hit to make it a worthwhile escapade. She looked all about her, at the Allied armies fighting for their lives and the lives of all that they loved. The Mage's just kept coming, there were so many of them, their blood magic tainting the battlefield, staining it red. She saw Haroun to the North, leaping from pocket to pocket of his men, trying to bring order to the fight, trying to bring hope to his men. From there she turned her gaze South, Ayred had fallen, and he was nowhere in sight and no faery had yet to find him. She saw a blast of orange flames rising high in the sky and knew it was her Aesa, her heart swelled with pride knowing her niece still lived, then clenched in terror as she recognised fully what she was witnessing. The fall of Elindor.

Elion's legs shook as the ground trembled. The Mage's were so near all Elion could hear was the sound of their feet banging against the floor and their cries of outrage, calls for blood echoed over and over again. Elion looked at the men stood to his side, they were still, stoic, ready. There was no fear. They had all come here to die and they would spill as much blood as possible before they fell.

"For Elindor." He whispered as the first wave of Mage's rounded the corner. Those two simple words were repeated by those nearest him until all two hundred men had ushered for Elindor. Elion was tall, he only had to stretch to see what was happening at the front of the crowd. One Mage stepped forward, a sneer fixed upon her face.

"You shall pay for what you have done!" She screamed and those behind joined her.

"Those who wish to cross uninvited to another's land, those who choose to slaughter and maim innocent people on a mad conquest, those people must be willing to pay the price. We are here to collect your debt." Erics replied calmly. The female Mage's face turned red in anger and she pointed at Erics.

"You shall die first abomination." The Elindorian's stood their ground whilst the might of Svet charged them.

The final steps were the hardest. With each one she felt her own demise drawing ever closer. The world about her seemed so crisp, so alive. People often said Ezhra was brave, but her mother had often chided she was simply foolhardy. As she inched closer to her doom she began to think that perhaps her mother had always been right. A young girl rushed past, she was very beautiful and smiled at Halok like an old friend. The Priest barely registered her. Ezhra wondered why the Triad was not out on the battlefield, she knew from experience that he normally led his men and women. As though summoned, the Triad stepped out of the tent. His black mane was pulled into a tail and he wore his armour, which glistened in the sun. Another Mage followed him out with blood upon his clothes. It appeared their leader had been hurt, badly. His eyes found her and a menacing grin spread across his face. Halok yanked hard on the leash, drawing blood from her neck. But her eyes never left the Triads.

"You have done well Priest Halok." Raken said, it was the first time Ezhra had heard him speak. In her mind she had expected him to sound as evil as the war he had waged, but in truth he sounded perfectly normal. The young girl stood beside him, her eyes looked at him lovingly. Halok passed her leash to his leader and bowed his head slightly. "Luce isn't it?" Raken asked her, the way he said her name was so possessive she felt as though something crawled all over her skin. She nodded her head and wished her clothes were more intact. "Hmm." He walked around her, assessing every inch of her body. His guards ogled her along with him. "Pleasing to the eye, it would be a shame to ruin that." He mused. "I apologise for your treatment so far, now that we know you cannot harm us we will welcome you into service willingly. Katsa will be your guide in all ways to keep me happy." He glanced at the girl who nodded so enthusiastically Ezhra thought her head may drop off.

"Yes Master." Watching the girls obvious infatuation made Ezhra feel sick.

"First lesson, you are my property now Luce. Do you understand that?"

"Yes Master." She said, though she did not truly believe it. His eyes flashed angrily and he yanked on her leash.

"Halok, old friend you have done well. I think you deserve a reward no?" Ezhra felt the Priests eyes glance over her as he licked his lips. "Katsa, my precious Guardian. You are to enter my tent with the Priest and you are to reward him for his hard work." Katsa did not hesitate, she nodded and entered the tent.

"You are too kind Triad." Halok grovelled, following the girl with a lustful look in his eyes. It did not take long for his cries of passion to reach their ears. Ezhra wanted nothing more than to grab a sword and run the Priest through. The girl was brainwashed, her own thoughts and wishes completely obliterated in her devotion to these creatures. Raken pulled her closer, until their noses nearly touched.

"You are mine now. If I tell you to go join Katsa you shall do so willingly." Bile threatened to spill onto the polished armour he wore but Ezhra held it down, instead she stared up at him with blank eyes as though his words washed over her like nothing.

Chapter 46

Evindäl jumped high, the Mage running at him with blade exposed met no resistance as he passed by, he looked around startled by the sudden disappearance of the elf, in his confusion, Evindäl landed silently behind him and decapitated him. Still spinning he caught another sword on his blade and deflected it long enough to throw a blast of fire into the face of his new opponent who stumbled back. He too was killed quickly.

"To me!" Evindäl called out, seeing his small team respond instantly. It saddened him to see only Stavros and Aesa approach, all the others he knew were dead. "We're losing ground." They both nodded through panting breaths, Aesa had blood trickling down her face and Stavros walked with a pronounced limp.

"It's now or never Sir." The Weaver said, ignoring the pain he obviously felt. Evindäl flicked his gaze to Aesa who nodded.

"Give me five." She said, placing a hand on Stavros' head and leg. Evindäl turned back to face those approaching. They came from all angles and he knew he would not be able to keep them all away. Keeping a firm hand on the hilt of his sword, Evindäl Weaved fire and air together moving the two together faster and faster until a cylinder of swirling air laced with flames surrounded his companions, protecting them for the time being. He let out a roar and swung his blade in an arc, forcing an incoming blow away from his head, he kicked the Mage hard and he went sprawling. Another was on him instantly and he batted that Mage's advances away, left right, up down. He saw an opening and took it, sinking his blade deep into the chest of the Mage. Fire sprung before him and he aimed it over his shoulder where he had just caught glimpse of a red tinged magical attack, the fire hit another direct in the face and his screams and the smell of melting flesh and burning hair overtook Evindäl's senses. A spear flew through the air causing him to throw himself back, staying on his feet the spear head nicked his chest but caused little damage, he came up so quickly he used the force to punch another Mage so hard their ribs caved. Evindäl had never been one with violence. But on this day two of his greatest loves were in danger, his Ezhra and his people. He would slaughter a million if it meant protecting them. He would die a thousand deaths if it meant saving her. And so even as an arrow buried itself in his shoulder and a blast of fire burnt a patch in his leg, he fought on with purpose, with determination, with love.

Chapter 47

Elion pushed forward, giving those who had just fought a respite. He swung on impulse, by reflex, hardly seeing the fight before him. The first wave of Elindorian's, fifty in all, had been slaughtered to a man within the first moments of battle. The female Mage with the sneer had commanded strong magic, it was only as Elion took a leap of faith and plunged his knife in her heart that the stream of fire had ended. Now they fought on more even grounds, give or take a few thousand men. There was no time to move the dead, nowhere to retreat to. They had chosen to make their last stand here and so they battled atop the fallen bodies of those who had come before. Elion wanted to weep for his friend, but Erics was dead and Elion still lived. There would be time for Mourning when this was done.

Reports were constantly coming to Raken, men who looked exhausted with sweat and grime dripping from them, would run in and out with messages. Just as one Messenger left, Katsa and Priest Halok stepped outside. The girl did not look happy, but she smiled warmly at her Master and returned to his side. Anger began pumping through Ezhra's blood, familiar, necessary. She let it fill her, consume her so there was nothing else but her fury. As it did so, her vision went black, she was plunged into the terrifying suffocating emptiness that was a vision. She saw herself, as though looking down from the sky, in her collar and leash with barely any clothes left to cover her modesty. Her face was red with anger and her fists clenched tightly together, her nails drawing blood. And then the vision of herself wavered slightly, the anger still evident on her face only the details a little difficult to see. Sweat began rolling down her skin, but it had a red gleam to it, not blood, something else. Bright white light blinded the vision and soon Ezhra was opening her eyes to Raken telling a messenger to send reinforcements to their eastern flank. She pulled in more anger, realising it was the emotion which allowed her to have a vision. She drew on it, welcoming it, allowed it to feed her. And then she pushed it out, as though expelling it from her body. Something wet trickled down her arms, legs and face. She could feel it returning to her, her power, all of it and more. With a roar she yanked the collar from her neck and dispelled the last of the potion which had rendered her powerless. The few people present stopped, as though time itself had frozen. Their eyes were now only full of fear. It was her turn to smile now. Her trusty whip grew at her feet, snaking up to coil about her wrist, the flames reflected in Raken's eyes. Ezhra looked to the left and saw Halok stepping back, trying to escape. She flicked her wrist up and brought the whip down hard. It took the arm from the Priests body, the limb flying through the air, the smell of singed flesh and blood filled her nostrils and she grinned all the wider. He scurried away screaming, but she was here for bigger people. She turned her full attention to Raken who stared back, the terror there only a moment ago now replaced with his own temper. He threw his arms into the air, bringing them down in an arc pointed at her, from his fingers a clap of red lightning struck toward her, she pulled her own arms up, dropping the whip, raising a wall of earth so take the brunt of the blow. It was reduced to smoking rubble the moment his blood lightning struck it. Stones and soil splattered across Ezhra's whole being, small cuts and abrasions rose instantly. Within seconds there was no time for thought only for action as the battle was fully under way.

Aesa released her hold on Stravos's leg and he gripped her forearm in thanks. They both stared at the hurricane which surrounded them wondering if they were able to pass through. In answer to their thoughts, the personal storm disappeared in the blink of an eye to reveal Evindäl in full battle with six Mage's. They both dove into the fray, Stavros hurling balls of air and Aesa sending lashes of fire and ice, the six were soon down. Evindäl nodded his appreciation and Aesa could see that he was close to passing out, nearly fifty bodies surrounded him and Aesa couldn't help but look at him a little wide eyed. She reached for him, wanting to heal the ailments which she saw were causing him pain but he shook her away.

"Save it, for Ezhra." Aesa conceded. "Let's go." There was a small gap in the fight, through which a glimpse of the enemy camp could be seen. They set off at a run, Evindäl able to make it faster than either Aesa or Stavros could ever dream of, but he remained at their pace knowing they were stronger together. The path wound between two pockets of fighting and they were often met by pairs of fighters veering into their way. Any stragglers they killed, they were running out of time.

Ezhra dove for the ground, a flash of pain hit her thigh where Raken sent a blast of red air toward her, she could feel the muscle had been sliced. She continued her dive and flipped over, landing back on her feet with a slight grimace. There was no time to recognise the pain. The screams of both of their kinsmen felt closer, perhaps Elindor were pushing back, perhaps the Svetian's were winning, she could not know. But there was one thing she did know, if she were to die this day then she would take this man with her. With a scream she spun around and threw both hands out, fingers bent in a claw. A stream of air and fire blasted from her hands and hit Raken square in the chest, his armour caved slightly and he pulled it off before it could suffocate him. He grinned at her, his smile bloody.

"You think you can win this war by killing me girl? You are wrong. My cause is a just one and we will see the extinction of you and your kind." She paused for a moment assessing him.

"Girl?" She pulled herself up to her full height, ignoring the pain in her leg. "My name is Lady Ezhra'lí Adira Lucianno, daughter to Lord Haroun Azarias Lucciano. You may know me as the female who has repeatedly lain waste to your men. I am a Weaver of the highest order, an elf of the Forest of Myrení. And I came here to die." She pointed a finger at him. "And you shall die with me." As though by instinct Ezhra threw her arms in the air, her head flung back. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as she rose from the ground. The air wrapped around her like a friend rising her higher above the ground. Thunder rumbled overhead as she called the storm to her. She felt the tempest within surging through her body like a hurricane. She welcomed it, invited the power, drew it to her. Soon the once blue sky was black with ferocious clouds which clapped together, lightning bolts flickered and thunder shook the earth. She opened her eyes, once green but now black like the sky above. She turned her dark stare on the Triad who had led the campaign against her people. Rain fell so heavily it obscured the view, but she did not need to see to know where he was. Lightning struck the ground in a maelstrom of catastrophe, body parts and earth erupted into the air with each strike; each one getting closer to its target. A bolt of lightning hit the ground at Rakens feet, missing him by an inch, he turned to run but there was no outrunning this. Fate had led them to this point and he was about to find out first-hand what happened when you pissed off one touched by the Goddess, for that is what she was. She knew that now, as the power surged through her and she felt one with the storm raging over head she knew. She screamed so loud that it could be heard over the roar of the storm, and twin lightning bolts crackled toward the ground, finally joining together and reducing Triad Raken to ash.

Vita's hands gripped her canes so hard her knuckles were stained white. It was nearly impossible to discern what was going on on the battlefield now, thick grey and black vicious clouds had rumbled across the sky not long before, rain splattered everyone, making her vision one of blurred sights and images. She saw a squadron of men close to the wall, being pushed back by the Svetian's who fought them fiercely. Calling on her power, she sent a swirling snake of fire down, burning those who came too near the small group of men. They raised a cheer before rushing back into the fray. A flicker of lightning pierced the sky, so bright it burnt against her eyes long after it disappeared, then three more in quick succession. Her eyes were drawn to them. She had never seen lightning work in such a way, striking together in one area so frequently. A faery lifted into the air, right in the centre of the lightning.

"Dashél!" She screeched, pulling him away from his healing. She pointed to the faery. "A faery, in the camp!" She had to shout over the roar of the storm. He shook his head incredulously.

"That's no faery."

"What the bloody hell do you mean! Do you know anyone else who can fly?" He shook his head again.

"No, but she was never one to follow convention. Tis Ezhra."

One minute his body was there, the next black and grey ash fluttered away in the wind. Her energy was spent, her anger diffused. Ezhra's body fell to the ground in a thump. She could do nothing. Not lift her head nor open her eyes. Instead she simply lay there, as the blood and wet earth soaked into her clothes, the rain fell on her pushing her further into the embrace of the ground. Something deep inside her snapped open, like a door in the wind, her Empathy gift no longer locked away for there was no more energy to maintain such a hold. The dead and dying all around her screamed within her head, she felt their pain, their anger, she felt their regrets. All of it consumed her until there was nothing but grief. She wanted to lift her hands to her head, cover her ears, do something, but there was nothing. She could not move. Instead she lay with her face in the dirt and cried for the world that was dying all around her.

Vita watched in horror as a mound of earth rose in the distance, near where the catapults now lay smouldering. Atop the growing mound which rippled as though alive, where twenty men stood with shaved heads bowed.

"The Chosen." Dashél whispered coming to stand beside her. She looked at him quizzically but could not find it in her to ask. She thought on this occasion ignorance may be a blessing.

"Strongest of the Mage's below Triad, they will create a Circle. They are used to end battles. Tis not a good sign Vita." He said, oblivious to her wants. She huffed out loud. "Jaxon!" The faery was too far for Vita to hear but she saw him look at the Chosen and then he turned to those on the wall.

"Everybody off the wall! NOW!" He roared. There was silence for a moment, the quiet burst into a medley of sound and movement. Faeries began grabbing humans and flying them to the relative safety of the ground, Jaxon and Dashél walked amongst them pushing people to the steps. Vita stood transfixed, watching as the mound grew. Perhaps this was how mountains were made. She wondered. A swirling ball of red brown and grey materialised before the Chosen, growing in intensity and size so rapidly Vita blinked a number of times to make sure she was not hallucinating in panic. It was too soon, they had moved too quick, men still ran atop the wall trying to make their escape, she felt helpless.

"NO!" She screamed tears streaming down her face. The word still hung in the air when somebody grabbed her and leapt from the wall. Her heart flew into her throat killing the scream which had begun. She was going to die the same way she had almost died all those years ago. A fitting end she thought. But she did not die, the person carrying her took all the impact in their feet and kept her clutched close to their chest. She felt their heart beating in time with hers, could feel their breath upon her hair. Behind and above them a resounding crash of such great magnitude it knocked people off their feet came with a billow of smoke and a downfall of rocks the size of houses. The wall was breached.

Chapter 48

There was little order now, the four groups had merged into one, Elion did not know how many of his men were still alive, had no way to know. There was no time to look around or regroup or even think of retreat, all of his vision was filled with Mage's coming for him, their swords ready and their blood magic calling. Blood ran down his leg, he was fairly certain he had more than one broken bone and a particularly nasty wound to the head left him feeling like he may pass out. But he stood, watching as they formed a circle around him, their faces so full of hate that he grinned. He had come to the end, but he had taken down enough of his enemy to make it count, he read that in their eyes, felt that beneath his boots in the bodies he stood upon. He saw fear also in the way they stayed back, keeping him at a distance. Then the sun darkened and he saw the flight of arrows heading his way.

Chapter 49

A break in the clouds above revealed a glimmer of light shining through, a single beam which shone directly upon the city, bathing it in a warm glow. But Dashél felt no warmth, only horror as he left his patients in order to fight. There would be no patients to save if they did not stop the flow of men from rampaging through the gap in the wall. He looked up and saw Vita still positioned on the roof he had put her on, her blue eyes reflected the colours from the flames erupting before her which she cast down at those who wore the Svetian crest. In that moment, with her black hair in disarray and her blue eyes so fierce and determined, Dashél felt a pang in his heart, a stirring he had never known before. But the moment was interrupted as a screaming Mage flung himself upon Dashél and he was forced to engage in battle. His sword rang out as it collided with his opponents, he parried and attacked, he feinted left and as the Mage went to defend, Dashél swung right, taking the Mage's leg off in one swing. He fell screaming and Dashél dispatched him quickly. A blast of red tinged air came at him full force, threatening to knock him off his feet and he had to throw a fist full of earth up to block it then direct it forward at the Mage who had attacked, the shattered paving stones rocketed through the armour, killing him instantly.

"To me!" He screamed, rallying his defence to him where they could stand together. They stood as one, fists clenched around sword hilts, arms raised ready to Weave. He noted with pride that none of the hands shook with fear. Even when a swarm of Mage's rushed through the gap, so many men and women Dashél knew they needed a miracle. "For the Allied lands!" He roared and was met with answering cries as they all rushed forward.

"For the Forest of Myrení and innocent blood!" Another voice screamed out, one Dashél had never heard before. He looked above him, to the roof where Vita sat. She stared up at the figure standing beside her in complete surprise. As Dashél's eyes made their journey up the towering man to his face, he recognised him.

"Leontis." He whispered. Leontis' cry echoed through the courtyard, drawing attention from friend and foe. Figures began appearing atop roofs, five hundred men stood tall, each and every one an elf. They were quiet, stoic, deadly. And they swarmed over the roofs and into the battle like a dragon, leaping from above to rain death upon their enemies.

Ezhra opened her eyes, the bright light blinded her. The pain remained, the misery still hung heavy on her heart, but at least she could open her eyes. She did to see the camp where she had come to die had disappeared, she no longer saw the effects of her storm, instead she saw white sands and a gentle lapping of blue green waves upon the shore. She sat up, though the effort was difficult to bear. A lady stood before her so beautiful and awing Ezhra averted her eyes. The Goddess stepped forward, she wore a simple white tunic which fell to her ankles, a gold belt sat on her waist. Her hair shone in the sunlight, golden red in colour. Doe eyes of a warm brown smiled down at Ezhra. She did not open her mouth to speak, but Ezhra heard the words.

"My child. You have come so far blessed one, have achieved so much. But now I need you to hold on just a little longer."

"I can't my Goddess. The pain, it is too much to bare." Thinking of the hurt brought it back with a vengeance and she cried out. The Goddess knelt beside her and took one of her hands, it was warm to touch.

"Your Prince is right my child, you are touched by my hand, when you were just a babe fresh from your Mother's womb. There is great power in you. I knew it then. But even heroes need a saviour my child. Hold on just a little longer and you shall have one."

"Please. I don't think I can. All I feel is pain, the hatred runs so deep in them that it now runs through me." The Goddess smiled sympathetically.

"There is always hope my child." She said before her whole body and the beach she stood upon wavered in Ezhra's vision. "Go now my love. And live."

The elves swept down from the roofs and into the battle, bucking courage and determination in the hearts of all men. No longer did they wait for their deaths to come to them, they went out in search, forcing the Mage's who had broken through to fall back, punching a hole in their attack and pushing onward, outwards to the rest of the army. Together, that small band of defenders swarmed into the battlefield breathing life back into the fight. Vita watched as the Mage's began to fall, their own shameless nature turning in on itself as they turned and fled the avengers.

Ezhra's eyes opened onto the bleak battlefield. The words echoed through her head, go now my love. And live. The world about her was quiet, still. Her screams the only sound echoing through her ears. She begged for death, but none heard her plea. A black mist descended upon her mind like a blanket, washing out all thought other than despair. And then, like a beacon of light she felt something drawing near, a shining light, a ray of hope. It was love.

Evindäl had never run so fast in all his life. His heart broke when he finally saw her. His love lay on the ground, blood pooling about her from multiple wounds, her eyes closed to the world. He could not see her chest moving for breath. Panic gripped him like never before and he overtook the rest of the group. He clung on to hope, to love and thundered toward her. His knees splattered mud everywhere as he threw himself beside her and pulled her into his arms. Her body was ice cold but he heard the faint signs of a heartbeat.

"Ezhra my love, I am here. I am here." He whispered over and over again, his arms holding her close whilst his hand felt around for damage. The wound on her leg was a problem, he could see bone through the horrendous gash. "Aesa is right behind me, please my love, hold on." His tears dripped from his face onto hers and he could not stop the cry from making its way up his throat and out his mouth. Her heart beat grew slower with each second. "No, no no." He whispered, putting his forehead against hers. Their lips brushed against each other and then he kissed her.

Aesa nearly fell in her rush to Evindäl and Ezhra, she moved as quickly as she could but as she dropped beside them she feared she was too late. She saw the look of despair in Evindäl's face as he placed his head against his loves, then she saw as he gently kissed her. Aesa's eyes grew wide as she saw what they all hoped for, Ezhra took a huge rattling breath and opened her eyes. They were wide with fear.

"Evindäl. I can feel it all." Ezhra muttered, tears choking her voice. "All the pain, the hatred. It consumes the world."

"No it doesn't my love. Feel me, feel my love." Evindäl replied, pressing Ezhra's hand against his chest. "There is no anger in me, only my love for you." Aesa could not know his feelings, but within Ezhra's eyes was a shift, the pain she bore still shone but with it came a beacon of hope.

"Ezhra, I am going to heal you, ok?" Aesa said and the elf nodded.

"Be careful Aesa, she has lost her grip on her Empathy power, whatever she feels you will too." Evindäl warned. With no second thoughts, Aesa placed a hand upon Ezhra's forehead and sent her spirit into the elves body. The pain was excruciating, ice cold fury rolled through Ezhra like a disease. But Aesa lived with anger, it was her constant companion, so she welcomed the storm within her, trying to ease Ezhra's suffering. The blackness threatened to suffocate but her heart was already cold. First she sent herself down to the gash upon Ezhra's leg which was causing her to lose her life blood onto the ground. She pulled the muscle and the skin, forging the two together. Next she moved to the other hurts, the split in the head, the broken arm and two ribs. All of it began to sew back together. When she was done with the injuries Aesa pulled herself away.

Chapter 50

Faelyn kept hold of Ema's hand. In the distance the sound of battle had died down, but here and there they could still hear signs of fighting, of death. Despite that, Faelyn knew her people had won and her heart rejoiced. Both herself and Ema were desperate to see it for themselves, so she held the child close as the rushed through the fortress. Faelyn took them to a rampart she knew led from the Eastern tower to the wall. Crossing the bridge, little more than a thin path of stone, she saw Belin the Elder ahead. After calling a greeting, a sense of forebodance crept up her spine when he did not respond. His body turned to her, twisting in a way that sent her heart racing and she stared into his cold dead eyes for a breath before he plummeted off the rampart. A one armed man with wicked eyes grinned at her menacingly.

"Perfect." He whispered, a sinister smile spreading across his thin face. More Svetian's came from the guard house, all wielding blood magic. Her first instinct was to fight, but with Ema in her arms she daren't, that moment of uncertainty when she turned to flee was all it took, she knew she had made a fatal mistake. A tingling sensation began to spread across her limbs until she felt nothing but the panic clawing at her heart. Ema had dropped from her arms and stared at her imploringly. "I have just severed your spine." The man spoke again, hideously close. "I will heal you, don't you worry about that. But first, we shall let the poison spread through your veins." Ema fought fiercely as they grabbed her, making no move to leave Faelyn behind, but she was quickly subdued with a knock to the head. Fear and guilt laced through Faelyn in equal portions. "You belong to me now elven scum." He was right beside her now, his breath hot on her face. "Soon I shall know all the secrets of your blood." The the last thing Faelyn heard before she blacked out was her captor telling the others "Take the girl; she will do as a gift for the Triad."

A number of hours had passed since the Svetian retreat and Vita had received word that Aesa had healed Ezhra, who had been dangerously close to death. Many of the wounded were being treated where they had fallen and the noises of those in pain filled the air, mingling with the hungry cries of the crows. Vita found King Elmon, Haroun and King Franko huddled close together; Dashél was with them offering an update on the healing. Her beloved niece was also close at hand, a bittersweet smile upon her face.

"Healer Vita." King Elmon rumbled as she approached with Irissa, who rushed to embrace her father. "I seem to recall asking you to oversee the healing within the city." His voice was weary, the reprimand tired.

"You did sir. But" Words failed her and the strength in her arms weakened, Haroun caught her as she fell to the floor. "Tis Ema my Lord, and Princess Faelyn." She could see all eyes on her now but found herself unable to continue.

"What is it?" He demanded, panic and fear flooding his fatigued eyes.

"My Lord, Princess Faelyn and Ema wished to see the retreat for themselves; they went to the Eastern wall. I tried to find them when they didn't return, but they have disappeared." Irissa spoke up in Vita's place; an emotion other than anger rang in her voice for the first time since her mother's death.

"Just like that." Elmon snapped his fingers. "They've gone?" He sounded disbelieving.

"When I reached the Eastern tower all of the guards were dead." Vita's heart beat faster and faster as Irissa spoke, reliving the horror she had felt when her younger neice had found her earlier. Ezhra and Evindäl approached, and Irissa's eyes barely registered how heavily the two clung to each other. "At the tower I found this." Irissa finished, holding out Ema's doll. Vita felt her pain return tenfold and her tears turned to sobs. Ezhra stepped forward on visibly shakey legs, taking the doll she let out an animalistic roar which pierced the air and sent many of them back a step. Evindäl stepped closer, resting a hand gently on her arm.

"Ezhra, this means they're alive." He said softly.

Laboured breaths pushed through his lips, pain unlike anything he had ever experienced before lanced through every inch of his body. Elion was scared, truly and deeply afraid. He thought of his Mother and how she had come so close to the Mourning Sleep when his brothers had passed. What would she do when they took his body back to her, ruined and mangled. A cough wracked through his body and with it a spray of crimson blood. He cried, unashamed, as his insides threatened to spill on the floor with every cough. He had given up trying to walk; he kept stumbling over dead bodies. Instead he crawled, every movement threatening to be his last. But he knew, with every breath he took, he would fight against deaths embrace which shadowed him closely. And so, inch by inch, Elion dragged himself through the mass grave he now found himself in, careful not to catch the arrows protruding from his body on the various limbs sticking out like claws from the ground. The effort became too much, his breaths came less frequently and the pain was causing him to black out. He knew there was no more moving, no more breathing left in him. Unable to see, Elion's final act was to push himself onto his back, his eyes stared up at the sky he could no longer behold and drifted off into oblivion.

Aesa felt the cold seeping through her clothes and rooting somewhere deep within her, could hear the sobs of her Aunt after Irissa retold the story. But she could not find the energy to get off her knees nor give comfort to her Aunt. She had come such a long way to get to this point, to claim some form of retribution, to learn to love again with her family and new friends. But as shame and despair sank their teeth deep inside of her and she once again heard his voice calling out her name she knew the madness had never gone away. This journey, this rite of passage, it had taught her to embrace all of herself. Things once feared, or misunderstood. Parts of her which once she was ashamed of. She opened her arms wide and welcomed them. She welcomed the voices in her head and the madness which begged to escape. She welcomed the hatred so black in her heart and the love so warm. All of it rushed to her like an endless current, so powerful it could drown her. All of it was hers and she was all of it. She opened her eyes once more. "How far will you go for her?" Cale asked her.

"Into the belly of the beast." She whispered through gritted teeth, her icy gaze never wavering from the Dragons Teeth mountain range.

The End

About the author

DM Owens spends her working days as a Governance Officer for the NHS, still asking herself the question what is governance after six years in the job.

Her debut novel Passage was released in January 2016, with the printed edition becoming available in May 2016. Passage is the first novel of the Retribution saga and is inspired by the passion and strength of DM Owens' mother.

DM Owens grew up in the North West of England, before attending the University of Leeds to study Classical Civilisation.

She currently lives in Essex with her boyfriend, who has learned to live with her tendencies to daydream and determination to look for all the magic in the world. Her days are filled with being lovingly bossed around by her bonus son and two children.

In her spare time, DM Owens enjoys cooking and baking, albeit with mixed results.

Follow her now on facebook - <https://www.facebook.com/dmowensauthor>

