Our laughter died down as we noticed not one, but two destriers approaching us. We took in Dravyn’s disapproving frown as they drew closer, as well as the amused glint in his eye. Then, I shifted my gaze to the left, toward Sébastien, cringing as I took in his steely, murderous look and the blatant anger pooling in those icy blue eyes.
Dravyn gave us a subtle nod as he rode up, while Sébastien just glared venomously at me, his mouth a taut line barely restraining the anger storming within him. Before I knew what was happening, he had my horse’s reins in his hand and had spun around, heading back to the front of the line with me unwillingly in tow. Confused and outraged, I tried to jerk the reins to my own horse back to no avail. I turned to glance back at Emalyee, who shared an apologetic look with me while being sternly lectured by Dravyn.
As we approached the front lines, my outrage brewed, annoyance flaring up that Sébastien believed he could control me. I thought about the options I had, knowing what it was he wanted to speak to me about. I could tell him off for the arrogant act being displayed, or I could remain silent the entire time. After shifting through the benefits of each, I decided. If he wants to play, I’ll bite. The silent game it was.
Sébastien fell into his spot leading the line, and I noticed him trying to calm himself down before he spoke. With his eyes closed and the subtle flare of his nostrils, he took a few steadying breaths, though I doubted it would work well for him. My gaze shifted, looking out into the browning grass fields, admiring the occasional trees and the birds flying about as he began to go off on his little rant that dripped authority.
“I thought I made myself clear back at the château that my word is law and I’m not to be undermined, in any circumstance. Was that not perfectly clear? I won’t tolerate you withholding information from me.”
Much to his displeasure, he was met solely with silence, as I didn’t even acknowledge him. Yes, I was aware my actions were slightly rude, but what does he expect me to do? Do whatever he says, anytime he says something? He might be a prince, but I don’t think so.
“Did you not hear me?”
Silence. Once again. The only sound filling the air was the low rumble of our horses’ hooves on the dusty path and the distant mutterings of the men traveling behind us.
A laugh caught in my throat as I heard his frustrated growl beside me, but what I wasn’t expecting was for him to yank my horse toward him, away from the line of soldiers and toward the forest. The horses walked according to his direction until we came to a clear meadow surrounded by large oak trees, where Sébastien stopped to dismount.
He lifted me down from Foi, but refused to let me go, as he trapped me between his body and Foi, towering over me and forcing me to tilt my head to meet his raging eyes. I attempted to move away from him, yet his steel grip kept me in place. The more I struggled, the tighter the hold became, until I found myself flush against his body, staring up at him, even as my body wished to betray me and sink into the warmth. With a defiant glare, I simply matched his gaze, once again not saying a thing.
“You can play this little game of yours for as long as you want. I just want you to keep this in mind: I’m stronger, more powerful, and have all the authority. You, on the other hand, have nothing to stand up against me with. So, if I were you, I would give in and accept the fact that I have the control here.”
I scoffed at his demeaning speech before I gave up with my silent streak and began to respond. “I’m stronger, more powerful, and have all the authority,” I sarcastically mocked. “Let me tell you something, you may be the Prince of Verastarr, but I am NOT some woman you can push around and dictate what I can or can’t do. Did you want to tell me when I could breathe, too? How ‘bout what I’m wearing—is that okay with you, Your Highness? I’m not like some of the women you are used to who can be bossed around or fall at your feet. Try to break me all you want, but I lived in a land where royalty was overrated, and I learned to fight for what I believe in.”
Sébastien stared at me incredulously, venomous rage and surprise written over his face. His strong gaze met mine before he muttered, “We shall see about that.” A dark chuckle slipped from his freckled lips. His hands rested on my waist, his fingers nearly touching as they encircled me, and he went to help me back up onto Foi.
“Capetian, Capetian! Enemies!” A younger soldier ran up yelling as he tried to speak through his heavy breathing. “Coming hard… so many… can’t be overtaken.”
I heard Sébastien shout something as my mind processed the soldiers fighting through the trees. I watched in shock as a burly, armed man charged straight toward us, his blackened metal sword raised dangerously overhead. I stood, frozen in my spot, unmoving, as the shouts and screams grew louder around me. I faintly heard Sébastien telling me to get down and stay put. Yet my mind flashed back to that fateful night long ago.
The ominous, dark gray creature filled the doorframe of our living room, his yellowish-gray teeth emerging as a snarl shook the walls. Seefer attacks had begun to frequent the Capital and lives were lost daily. The only way to destroy a Seefer was through magic, and those who came face to face with the beasts never breathed again. They hunted in packs, leaving only carnage in their tracks. The snarls crept closer through the darkness, and my mother’s screams for us to hide were barely heard. Behind me, I felt Kateya’s whimpers coursing through her body as the beast stalked closer, its target in mind. Cowered by the brick fireplace that was built into the hiding spot underground, I pressed Kateya inside until there was no further to go, my body in front of hers to keep her safe. I held the rusted fire poker shakily in front of my body as the beast moved in. The horror of the mangled beast still haunted my nightmares. Missing patches of blackened fur, matted with a crimson tinge, feral burnt orange eyes lighting up as a red mist swirled through them. Claws clacked across our tiled floors, as the Seefer crouched before rising onto its haunches, a shudder reverberating through its body as it pushed off toward its prey. Another sobbed scream flew through the air as I raised the fire poker in front of me.
“Cassandra!” A snarled shout snapped me back into the present, as I watched Sébastien fend off a soldier, an iron scent filling the air as crimson dripped from his sword.
Distantly, I heard shouts and yells, cries of pain mixed with the clashing of heavy metal swords. I ducked behind Foi, frantically searching to see if I could find something to defend myself with, but there wasn't anything. The sound of metal came closer, and I glanced up to see Sébastien two meters away from me, fighting another man. I watched in fear and awe at their fighting. Parry, blow, duck, repeat. A movement I had memorized following the attack on our family. My father taught Kateya and me the basics for self-defense, and I continued the lessons early each morning with him. The sheer power of their blows and intricate detail of each movement was astonishing, yet I knew that even the slightest misstep could lead to serious injury. As I watched the scene unfold before me, I realized two more soldiers were approaching, and they weren't with Sébastien.
“Sébastien!” I shouted. “Another two are coming!”
I noticed him glance up as he parried a blow before assessing the situation.
“Get on your horse and ride hard; hide only when you find shelter.” He grunted as he blocked yet another blow.
As much as I hated taking orders, I realized that my life depended on this since I had no form of protection. I quickly mounted Foi. A brief glance in Sébastien’s direction showed more men charging for him. A dark mist stormed the ground surrounding him as a deadly growl pierced my ears. My mind raced as I stared at the form in front of me: that of a towering wolf. As I turned Foi around toward some hopeful shelter, I realized I had no idea just how powerful Sébastien was, but he controlled mist and could shapeshift.
We pushed hard in the direction of a dark forest. Foi took control and jumped over fallen trees, avoiding low branches. I rode, still too much in shock from the attack and the shift of magic that occurred. Magic and the powers that came with it were rarely seen in the East Engles. It was known that the royals from each land contained magic, yet following The Fall, the use of magic was rarely seen. As I looked for some form of shelter, I feared for my sister, Kateya, and what she might be going through. The thought was almost enough to force me back around toward the battleground.
Then I heard the sound of horses’ hooves hitting the leaf-covered ground with strong force, shaking the forest floor. Not knowing whether the rider was a friend or an enemy, I realized hiding was paramount. A small alcove was formed by a tangle of tree branches and bushes, providing what I hoped would be a decent hiding spot out of view. As I approached the hidden cove, I threw myself off Foi and prayed that he would continue to run. The impact of the landing held me down as pain pierced my side. I hadn't been prepared for the force of the ground.
Even as I whimpered in pain, I crawled over to the alcove and pushed my way deep into the bushes, attempting to hide from view. Brambles and branches clawed at my exposed skin, leaving marks that burned. No sooner had I hidden than the sound of metal swords clashing violently in the forest surrounded me, making me regret not having a dagger for the third time today. I attempted to push myself back further in the alcove, yet the pain in my arm and my hip hindered me from moving more than a few feet. I sat there quiet as could be, slowly breathing, knowing that I was the prey. A memory of Mum flitted through my mind of a time before The Fall. A time when spirituality existed in our land, a time before fear was worshiped. She had whispered a prayer over the land as the Nordak grew stronger. It was a time before prayer to the God of our descendants was forbidden. As the memory left, a rushed prayer slipped my lips in a whisper.
Please keep Kateya safe and alive. I can’t lose her, not like this. She doesn’t deserve this. Neither of us do, but especially not her. Please. Oh please, let us survive.
Amen
The pain in my side had intensified, and I glanced down to see blood slowly seeping out onto my red shirt, blending in as it darkened slightly. The faded brown leather pants I wore for travel were torn in various places, and I knew the rest of me must look just as disheveled. I figured at some point in my ride away from the battleground and the soldier chasing me, I must have cut myself on something in the forest, perhaps the large branch I flew past. The sounds of metal clashing angrily and shouts slowly began to fade around me as I realized that the fight must have been coming to an end. But was I in the clear or was I still prey?
My best option would be to stay hidden here for a little longer. The missing dagger thing was really biting me in the ass. If someone found me, I would basically be at their mercy. I just hoped Kateya was alright. If she wasn't, I didn't know what I would do. My mind wondered to what form of power or magic Sébastien had coursing through his veins if he could shapeshift. Was that still a power the royals at home held?
“Cassandra!” I heard someone shout. Should I answer them? I wondered. What if they are enemies? I thought and then reasoned; how would they know your name then? My internal struggle resolved; I shakily replied, “Here.”
I heard footsteps marching around in the forest, leaves cracking underfoot, before a pair of onyx boots stopped close to my hiding spot. I heard a low chuckle before his deep voice broke through the silence. “Nice hiding place.”
A sigh of relief rushed from my lips that it had been Dravyn who found me, and not the commander. I slowly, painfully crawled out of my cramped spot and allowed Dravyn to help me up. He looked at me, taking in my appearance, no doubt since I was covered in dirt and leaves with some scratches, and asked me if I was okay.
I glanced at him, slightly annoyed he was asking before muttering, “Of course I'm okay. I need to check on my sister, though.”
I began to walk slowly back to the group before I heard him say through chuckles, “Well, I'm going back to the others, but I will let them know where to find you.”
I internally groaned as I realized I was, in fact, heading the wrong way. Before I turned toward Dravyn, I attempted to mask my pain. “Glad to know that a life-threatening attack isn’t enough to kill your humor,” I retorted.
“Well, you know, nothing like some violence to get the ladies in the mood.”
A laugh slipped from me. “Don’t let Emalyee hear you saying that. You’ll find yourself out on your ass before you can say sorry.”
Dravyn clutched at his heart, feigning a wounded groan as we walked into a clearing, and I watched as soldiers were walking around, preparing the horses, and checking for injuries. As I scanned the area, my gaze froze on Kateya as she found me at the same moment. A second passed before she ran over to me, throwing her arms around my neck as we gripped each other tightly. Thankful to both be alive.
Apparently, while they had been surrounded, most of the enemies had come after Sébastien, as they were targeting a powered royal. The soldiers who had been with her weren’t as injured as the ones that had been with Sébastien. My thoughts briefly flew to Sébastien, wondering if he was okay. I dismissed the thought as quickly as it entered my mind, not wanting to care about him or his entitled ass. I had a plan, after all. Find my pendant, learn how to use it to bring us back to East Engles, and bury the necklace where no one can get ahold of the power ever. Right?
Sébastien strode over to us with a concerned expression when he noticed us walking into the clearing. Why he would be concerned was beyond me, though. His face and shirt had crimson spatters darkening the material, his leathers a matching design. I noticed the two friends step to the side a little and talk. I could tell by the expressions on Sébastien’s face that whatever they were talking about wasn’t promising, and both were hardened by the surprise attack. Dravyn shouted a command, and the soldiers began moving around and mounting up. Sébastien walked over to me then and informed me that I would be riding with him. I attempted to protest this new development; however, my argument was instantly shut down as he pointed out that I had let Foi run off while I hid for my life. Groaning, I followed him slowly over to his horse.
Warm, calloused hands encircled my waist as he lifted me up onto his destrier. My mouth tasted like metal, and I realized that I had bitten my lip hard, to the point of breaking the skin. I felt the horse I was atop of moving, and glanced back, barely processing that the commander had mounted the horse behind me. His tattooed forearms wrapped tightly around me as he motioned his horse forward. I gasped slightly in pain as the horse trotted along. I hadn't meant to gasp out loud. I didn't want anyone to focus on the fact that I was minorly injured, for it was nothing compared to the various injuries I’d accumulated over the years from training and Nordak attacks.
I felt Sébastien stiffen beside me before cautiously asking, “What’s wrong, Cassandra?”
“Nothing,” I replied quickly, hoping he would drop the subject but knowing that it was Sébastien I was speaking with, meant that might never happen.
“Nothing, really?” he questioned, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I highly doubt that. No one gasps from a casual horse trot.”
“I’m sure many people might when forced to ride with you,” I instantly retorted. “You are just too arrogant to notice.”
I felt his arms tighten around me as he struggled not to reply harshly, but my thoughts faded away as a wave of pain radiated through my body. I felt Sébastien turn his horse off course once again, his arms supporting my body as the wave of pain refused to subside.
Sébastien helped me down before demanding I explain to him what happened.
“It's nothing. Seriously. A small scratch. I don’t know why you care; let’s just keep going.”
“A small scratch, huh? Do you often gasp from light scratches?”
“I told you. The pained noise you heard was a direct result of me having to endure a ride with you. That’s all.”
“Very well, let’s go,” he responded, his black leather gloves wrapping around me to lift me up.
My eyes briefly shut as pain radiated from the cut on the side as he gripped it. His hands moved off my body. I watched as his ice-blue eyes scanned my body in depth, narrowing in on the darkened crimson section of my shirt.
I remained frozen as his hand reached out, lightly pulling the fabric up at the source of the color change, sending slight shivers up my body as he pulled the fabric away. I could only watch his face as he inspected the cut, his eyes a flurry of emotion. His gaze flicked back up to mine with a pained expression as he sternly said, “You should have told me,” before stalking away.
The healer was over in an instant and bandaged up my cut and inspected where I fell. Both my hip and my wrist were now sporting large, blackish-blue bruises that were in no way attractive. Only after the healer assured Sébastien that I was alright and would survive did he allow everyone to proceed. And so we proceeded.
* * *
It had been two days since Sébastien deigned to speak to me. Not that I was complaining.
“How is your cut healing?” His words rolled off his tongue as he adjusted his grip on me.
“Fine, thank you,” I replied as my eyes stared off in the distance to the mountain range, inching closer toward us. His silence grew into a thick fog hanging over our heads. Sighing, I questioned, “During the attack. You shifted. Is that a power all royals have?”
After a moment of silence, his voice cut through the fog. “Yes, each land in Vanaiyer has a different power in addition to our magic. It’s a power that only royals are born with. Here in Verastarr, royals are born with wolvyn blood coursing through them.”
“Are royals the only ones with that sort of power?”
“Do you truly not know this? Every child is told stories of the power and magic roaming through our realm.”
Annoyance reverberated through me. “No, I don’t know. That’s why I was asking, Your Highness.”
Those ice-blue eyes flared as he continued, “No, royals aren’t the only ones with that sort of power in them, but they are the only ones born with it. Royals can spread their power to whoever they choose, although it is typically given with high consideration. For instance, my father chooses to share the wolvyn power with those in his council and high-ranking captains of the guard.”
My thoughts flitted to The Fall, wondering how many wolvyn had been forced into hiding due to the powers they held. “How many wolvyn are there?” I questioned Sébastien.
“There’s not an exact count. But I’d say there are roughly three hundred living in Nytestarr.” He spoke with the ease of someone who grew up around magic and power. “There are others in the land, though, some unaccounted for. And some who have turned against the royals.”
“How do you know if someone is a wolvyn?”
“The pack bond. While different from the mating bond, the pack bond can be felt in a wolvyn’s soul. In simpler terms though”—his forearms wrapped tighter around my body as he pushed the sleeve of his left arm up, revealing an intricate tattoo—“every wolvyn is inked with this imprint as the power settles into them. My brother and I were born with ours, just as my father was.”
Settling back against Sébastien, I stared at the detailed markings on his forearm, watching the scattering of swirled ink crawl up his skin, admiring the intricate design. The likeness of a wolf, or wolvyn I should say, etched into the design, blended seamlessly. My eyes closed as I relaxed against his body, the canter of the horse mixed with scents of spice and pine lulling me to sleep.
* * *
The duration of our five-day horseback journey went smoothly, minus the one surprise attack. Emalyee and I grew close over our journey, laughing and talking, spending nearly the entire journey together. Kateya and I talked often as well. She had a new friend in Eryx and while she was worried about getting home, I watched my sister slowly begin to get lost in the day-to-day events and travel, focusing less on the fear of the circumstances.
I, on the other hand, was close to losing my sanity with the constant stream of thoughts chasing after me. The new knowledge regarding magic, powers, and the wolvyn sat at the forefront of my mind, making me wonder what type of magic was stored in the pendant I’d worn daily.
The further we traveled from the field where Kateya and I first appeared, the more alert and concerned I became. We couldn’t afford not to find that pendant—I was positive that it held the answers to returning home. I avoided talking to Sébastien unless necessary. Which was just as well—he spoke solely in dark glares, grunts, and growls, refusing to let me out of his sight. I longed to be home in Estaire and have dinner with our parents or laugh at the bar with Aerilyn.
My thighs were exhausted from the constant riding, and the cut on my side was healing over as the bruises faded from black to a darkened purple. This was the state I found myself in on the last day of our journey as we began approaching a large, bustling city.