True North [True North series book 1/3]
Chapter 18 - Morai

Even though I couldn’t see the entity itself, I could see the snow covering it. It was massive, reaching almost three quarters of the way up the trees. I tore my eyes away from it, not wanting to stick around to see what it would do next.

I turned around, and pulled Warrian with me as I began running again. I had barely made it five steps before the Nioph was at my back, once again flinging me onto its back like I was a sack of potatoes. But as I was still clutching Warrian, this time he came with me. And the moment we were on its back, the Nioph took off.

Finally, there was a glimmer of hope again. Maybe we could outrun it this time. And we were together — holding onto each other for dear life. We darted through the snowy forest, the terrifying humming chasing us like a swarm of killer wasps. And then, finally, we were out.

We crossed the ice plain in a matter of seconds, bracing ourselves for another Ku’lan attack the whole time. We crossed the last part of the forest, until we could finally see the camp again. We waited there for a while, just to make sure we hadn’t been followed, and when we no longer felt the ominous presence, or heard the terrifying humming, we entered the camp.

I never thought I’d ever be glad to see this place, but here we were. I leaned forward, and did the only thing I could think of to thank the Nioph for saving our lives — scratching behind its ear and kissing the top of its skull.

“Thank you,” I whispered, before sliding off its back.

We walked toward the tents, and paused.

“Morai!” Warrian called out, “it’s me, Warrian.”

Everything was silent for a moment, but then the smaller female from before emerged.

She looked different from the last time I had seen her. The decorations on her face had been washed off, and the clothes she wore were less bright. Her black hair had been braided into a crown atop her head, showing off her delicate features. I took a moment to acknowledge her beauty. Now that I knew she was Thoridor’s sister, I could see the resemblance a little. Their eyes were shaped similarly, and they had the same dark features.

I thought of their father — the half-beast I had met earlier. Upon first glance, it didn’t seem like his children bore any resemblance to his animalistic side. Sure, Thoridor seemed a little rough around the edges, but I had yet to discover horns, or hoofs, or even fur on him. And his sister, Morai, seemed delicate, polished, almost human. I glanced down at her hands. Five fingers, just like Thoridor. The other female, their mother apparently, had only had four on each hand.

Morai stepped closer to Warrian, looking him up and down.

“Warrian,” she said softly, “what are you doing on the mainland?”

“Come here,” Warrian said, stepping closer. He inclined his head to her, and Morai pressed her forehead and nose against his.

I looked at them, feeling a tiny pang of… jealousy in my chest? I shook it off, embarrassed to feel that way about someone I had only just met.

They each stepped back. “I am here for Serin,” Warrian finally said, nodding toward me, “she came to see Aeloria, and she thinks she’s solved the prophecy. She thinks she knows how to get back — knows who can open up a gateway.”

Morai whipped her head around to look at me.

“The Calenti?” she asked contemptuously, looking me up and down, “and how do you know she did, hmm?”

Warrian shrugged. “She told Thoridor, after seeing Aeloria. “She actually went to see her?”

Morai asked, “wait, she speaks?” Warrian nodded.

Morai narrowed her eyes at me. “You solved it?!” she called out in disbelief. “Who do you think it is about, then?” “

Eh,” I said nervously, “you.”

“Me?!” Morai scoffed, “what makes you think I’m the chosen one?! If I’d had the powers to break the curse of my people, you don’t think I would have already?”

“Because you’re a royal fem— wait, what curse?” I asked.

Morai’s eyes darted between Warrian and me. “How much have you told her?” she asked.

Warrian sent me a helpless look. “Nothing,” he said, “she came to me knowing some things. I figured Thor had told her, or perhaps Aeloria.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I can’t believe Aeloria just let her go,” Morai mumbled, “Does she know of the Sorael?”

Warrian’s cheeks darkened, barely visible by the dim light leaking out of the tent.

“I… may have mentioned it, yes,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

Morai grimaced. “I wonder if he will have her participate,” she said, “if she’s still here, of course. And still alive.”

“About that,” I said carefully, “could we perhaps sit down? I’m feeling a little light-headed.”

Warrian seemed to just now remember I was there, and wrapped his arm around my waist.

“We need a healer,” he said to Morai, “is Maista still around?”

Morai nodded to another tent in the distance. “She’s probably resting, though. Is it urgent?”

Warrian just nodded and started pulling me in the direction of the tent. Morai ran past us and went into the tent. She exited moments later with another female.

This one had deep, dark auburn colored hair, and slits in her face where her nose should’ve been. Her eyes were narrow, and very sharply pointed, giving her an almost serpentine appearance. The female —I thought her name was Maista?— barely glanced at me before turning to Morai, her face contorted with disgust.

“Sire…” she protested, “I do not know how to heal her kind. She is not like —”

“She is plenty like us,” Warrian cut her off angrily, “she got bitten by the Ku’lan. You could take a look at it, at the very least.”

“She’d be dead by now, if she’d been bitten by a Ku’lan,” Maista protested, “their beaks are venomous. She might not have bled out from the bite itself immediately, the venom would’ve killed her in moments.”

“I saw it myself, Maista,” Warrian spat, “maybe it’s different for humans. Just fix her, please.”

Maista looked at me warily. “Show me,” she said, albeit a little stiffly.

I started fumbling with the wooden buttons on my coat. Warrian pushed my hands away and unbuttoned it for me, and I couldn’t help but blush at the intimate action. I pulled my injured arm from my coat, and looked at it. Both of our jaws dropped in shock as we took in the skin on my upper arm. It had almost healed — the gashes replaced by soft, pink scar tissue.

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