“Stormrider!”
She turned at the sound of her name. Ghostdrum approached her. He was the leader of the centaurs. A formidable warrior, but a wise counselor as well. She’d also heard the stories of the centaurs, but none of them captured their true essence.
“Ghostdrum,” Aria greeted. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes, yes,” the centaur spoke. “You’re not busy, are you? I’d like you to accompany me.”
She wasn’t busy. She was watching some of the other soldiers train. “No, I’d love to accompany you. Where is it that we’re going, Ghostdrum?”
She walked alongside him. It wasn’t too much trouble to keep up with him, not after all her time on the run, or simply in the forest. The hunt always required her to be fast.
“Just come along now,” the centaur stated. “I’ve been asked to make it a surprise.”
“By who, might I ask?”
“The High Queen, Octavia,” Ghostdrum told her. “She caught me on my way to see you. And I’d told her why I was searching for you, and she said it’d do you good to have a bit of a surprise. Was she correct?”
Aria laughed. “Oh, Eight’s just a girl. She doesn’t yet know that surprises are not what does us good.”
“All the same, I thought it’d be best to agree with her. A very stubborn child she is.”
“Oh yes, she’s stubborn, but her stubborn nature stems from her kindness. She only ever persists if it’s for the good of another,” Aria told him. “She’s a good lass, I sense a good future before her... if we win the war.”
“And we will,” Ghostdrum confirmed. “With your little friends and Caliburn’s wielder. And only with the lot of you.”
“Aye, but if I’ve learned anything, destiny, prophecy and all that’s in between can never be certain. Fate itself isn’t even certain. We cannot know the end of the war until it comes,” Aria spoke. “An ni a tha ri teachd, faodaidh e tighinn. Faodaidh e a thuaghan agus a chlaidheamhan a thoirt leis, agus a bhith armaichte le a bhogha agus le a gheug. Agus bidh sinn a ’sabaid gus an ruig sinn an dùthaich eile.”
“You’ve mastered the old tongue,” the centaur lamented. “It has been long since I’ve heard it uttered by one of your kind.”
“And it has been long since I’ve felt free to speak it.”
He led her into a tent. It was a general’s tent, and the Centaur Queen awaited inside. But even she was not alone.
“Fogdream,” Ghostdrum greeted. He looked to the others. Pale-haired, and among the most beautiful beings that Aria had ever seen. Gods among humans are how they looked to her. Ghostdrum gave a simple nod at the others. The Centaur Queen gave a soft smile regarding Aria. Fogdream was yet another warrior, though her prowess was said to be better than that of Ghostdrum’s. “Come in, Stormrider. Our guests don’t bite.”
Carefully, she stepped inside. One of them wore a crown of intricate design, unlike anything she’d ever seen. His eyes followed her every movement. This one, like all of them, was tall and slender. But unlike all of the others, he held an aura of authority. His mere presence commanded respect.
“This is the girl?” the man questioned.
“Yes, my lord,” Fogdream confirmed. “This is the Stormrider.”
The man approached her. He walked around her. Studying her. It didn’t bother her too much, she’d been studied too many times to count. But she wasn’t about to hide her annoyance at his disappointment.
“She is not what I expected,” he continued. “But worthy enough, I suppose.”
“If you’ll mind my words carefully, my lord,” Aria spoke up. “But your subtle remarks have not gone over my head. I understand, and I understand well. But I am more than a mere woman. And I will not be studied like a broodmare, ripe for the taking.”
“I told you lot about that spirit, didn’t I?” Ghostdrum spoke. “She’s got a mouth on her. But it does not run rampant. She doesn’t exaggerate, all that she says is true. She escaped from the witch and escaped her beasts all on her own.”
“Yes, but the witch is of her kin, yes?” the man spoke.
Aria inhaled sharply. “If you know of where my blood runs then you should know well enough that blood is all it is.”
“She’s sworn to kill her, my lord,” Fogdream told the man. “The Stormrider shares no love for the witch, and has sworn to the mage herself that she will take her life.”
“So, be it.”
Aria simply fumed. How dare this stranger study her? And how dare he judge her? She knows not his name, nor where he came from, but he believes he has the right to judge her as if she were unsuitable for his mere presence.
“Lord or not, you bear no right to judge me,” Aria snapped. “Your people might be pretty, but if you continue to stand there, and act as if you’re better than me, I’d be glad to prove otherwise.”
“Does she not know what I am? Who I am?” the man questioned as he stood before her.
“No, sire,” Fogdream informed him.
“She’s a huntress. She lived a life of isolation in the Wood Of Saffron.” Ghostdrum finished for the Queen. The man took her in again before inhaling.
“They call me Aelfraed,” he told her. “And it is I who rule the Elves of The Wood.”
She supposed it made sense. The crown was too regal to be just any crown. And this man being a king made sense enough. He looked like a king, dressed like a king. He even carried himself as a king would.
“If I knew what the meaning of all this was, I’d have said it was a pleasure to meet you, but as it stands, I know little of what all of this is,” Aria stated firmly. The Elven King turned to his companions and gave a nod.
“We brought with us a weapon,” he told her. “A weapon none of us can wield, that none of us can carry. A weapon forged during the ages of dark for the one prophesized to bring light. One prophesized for war.”
“A weapon?” the white-haired girl questioned. The King nodded.
“Yes, Stormrider,” Aelfraed confirmed. “For you.” The Elven companions opened the back of the tent, and in a wagon, stuck in a rock, was an axe. “For thousands of years, this axe has been in the rock. None of my men could pull it and none could break it from the rock. When we received of the Earthborn who’d aided the mage, and even went as far as to threaten her without fear, we believed its true wielder to be you.”
“You must accept,” Ghostdrum told her. “This weapon will mean the difference between life and death.”
“And as a sign of respect, our forces will join yours,” Aelfraed told her. “We’ve always followed where Omdrus led. And if he believes in you, and follows you, we can rest assured that he’s made the right choice.” he paused as she looked on at the axe. “It is time for you to pull the axe so destiny can take place.”
She nodded and stepped forward. She climbed into the wagon and let her fingers wrap around the handle of the axe. And then she pulled it from the rock, and pull she did.
The blade escaped from its rock confinement. Its elven design was beautiful, so intricate and so strong. It emitted signs of strength.
And it was this that made her believe, even if she didn’t know for certain.
It was this that made her believe in the possibility of defeating her sister.
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