Ch. 13
“Companions”
Water would be nice right about now. Devlyn squeezes my shoulder gently while helping me sit upward. Halfy moves and his paws now touch my legs. Zanir returns and hands the wet fabric to me. I notice when reaching for the fabric, my tattoos are just faint lines beneath the dried crusty blood. The Samca tattoo completely covers my wrist, but it is hidden under all the red. I start wiping. I need to get all this blood off.
Zanir moves back to the chair in the corner of the room, watching and surveying the passing scouts and guards from the tent entrance. Someone else has also had an eventful night…
“I need to take lessons from whatever did that to you.…”
That is what is causing the stir outside the tent. His voice seems deeper than I remember even though it has only been a week or so since I last saw him. I try and twist towards him and wince.
“Stop moving.” He laughs while handing me a canteen with delicious flowing water it sounds like. I hiss at him and then grab the canteen and quickly raise it to my lips. His blonde hair gleams against the sun shining through the entrance, as bright as the sun itself. He still does not look a day over sixteen, but I know he is almost eighteen because he reminded me every day during training. The day would be getting closer if he were allowed to come with the scouts. I watch as his eyes move toward Zanir who is dusting something off his shirt, trying to remain uninterested like usual.
“It was a Balaur, by the way Iamys…” I finally say turning toward him, toward the entrance. I remained sitting, every muscle in my body was trembling. If I stood, I may just fall on my face. I hand him back the canteen. I finally look up to the voice of the boy who I viewed as the younger sibling I never had. His deep brown eyes are wide and his mouth a gape.
“A water dragon? A three headed water dragon? Before any of us? Before me?” He glances at Devlyn and the person to his left, who I hadn’t even noticed at first, but that was the point. That was his job, to go unnoticed. To remain unseen while gathering information.
He was a dark-skinned male, with long dark braided hair down his back. He is wearing his guard leathers with two daggers attached to his hips. His hazel eyes scanning over me and then a glance at Zanir.
Devlyn taunts, “Iamys, I and Sadar, alone have fought many dragons, among many other things. Even fought alongside the dragon riders of Uscia in the last big war.” That is a story I need to ask about later, and I realize I sometimes forget how much older they are compared to Iamys or me. We all have stories to tell…
I adjust myself and clench my teeth as I move my shoulders. “Have any of you fought a dragon, as that same dragon?” I know the answer, but the opportunity to brag is always nice. Crushing dreams one friend at a time.
Most of the shifters within the clan can only shift to one or two forms. Mother and I can shift into anything that we study; we see, we witness and have what we call our true beast form, the feral inner beast.
Devlyn is a mystery. She has never given me her full background. I know she is a mix, but unsure about with what. She can shift between creatures she has killed with a blood connection, blood touching her skin. As far as the amount, I am going to assume infinite. So, I know she could if she wanted to shift into anything, but she never needs to. She is more skilled with a weapon in her hands.
Iamys is special and so young. His parents came the clan just a few years ago. He has been a pain in my ass ever since. He has one creature he can shift to, a lion, much like the lion that runs through the mountains, but rather than brown or tan, his form’s fur matches his blonde shining hair. He can shift into inanimate objects as well, such as chairs, candles, etc, too. Which is a nice trick and sometimes incredibly annoying.
Sadar is a shifter like us, but of a different breed. Sadar is what is called a pureblooded Varcolac. Sadar fled from one of the Varcolac clans after the pure blooded, his own family, started slaughtering any Varcolac that were not of pure lineage, half-bloods and turned included.
Mother praises on our clan being open to all kinds, shifters, high and low fae, and other creatures. All individuals of all shapes, sizes, and forms.
I feel all their eyes on me, waiting for all the details, waiting for all that I will offer. I wonder where Gaelira is. I use the fabric I have and wipe around my neck, again. My tunic is long gone, and my shirt is stained red and is sheared into thin pieces. Covering all the important bits thankfully, but my sleeves are completely gone. Exposing my shoulders and neck. A row of teeth marks run from my neck to my shoulders start to appear as I gently and painfully wipe away the dry blood. My tattoos are also regaining their color.
“Let’s just say Balaur left with one working head. One was barely hanging on by a few ligaments, and the other is at the bottom of the lake.”
If Iamys mouth could reach the floor, it would be there. But it is Sadar who brings the conversation back to the important part. “What is a Balaur doing in a lake in the endless forest? And not along the coastline near the sea?” His body focused and holding no emotion.
Zanir starts, like he is not in a small space as a mortal surrounded by highly trained and powerful beings, “Because someone or something is binding creatures within the endless forest, all around Adros, and beyond.” He says with a bored tone and flicking something off his tunic.
My eyes widen. His arrogance for a split second makes me second guess if I truly took his powers from him. I felt it. I felt it leave my body and absorb into him as it ate through his power, his mortality, leaving nothing in its wake. No scent of power comes from him, only mint and pine. He knew of the bindings. Was that what he was going to speak with Muma Padurii about?
“How’s your neck?” Iamys says like a razor, his arms now across his chest. His bow and arrows slinged across his shoulders in their quiver. His brown eyes viciously staring at Zanir.
“It’ll heal. Good thing I’m more than just a pretty face…and neck.” Zanir says now looking at Iamys, with the same fierceness in his eyes. Nyx, two egotistic males in one tent, one small tent.
I glance at the tent entrance, clear for now, and say quietly, “Everyone this is Zanir. Let us just say he decided to mess with the wrong person and is tagging along to see if Mother can help him retrieve something he lost…but he will have to prove it first.” I shoot him a look and all he does is shrug with a curl on the edge of his lips.
“I should have aimed lower then…” Iamys says, and claws can be seen in his clenched fists. Protective like a younger brother he is.
Devlyn, Iamys, and Sadar are a few trusted by me who know my true powers and can easily piece together that I took Zanir’s powers, his mortality, and know I must have had a good reason.
Gaelira comes through the tent entrance with her arms full of bottles and papers. She nearly runs into Sadar as she strolls in. “Oh...” She quickly stops and drops one of the bottles. Sadar leans down and hands her the bottle, with a small smile. The most expressive I have seen him be in ages. She replies with a small smile, too. “Unfortunately, I will need some space for my items to properly begin the healing for Lady Mihaela.”
Devlyn looks to Iamys and Sadar, “Go get the scouts and guards ready to move out on my order. We will move out for Faymore, the human village past the valley between Zis mountain ranges once Mi is healed enough.” Thank Nyx, she stopped the whole princess spiel. We will rest once we get to Faymore. Take Zanir with you.” She looks at Zanir now. “Halfy, and Lady Mihaela spared your …life.” Such ice in her words, “But if you choose to travel with us to see Queen Zeva, you’ll earn your keep.” She motions toward Iamys and Sadar.
Zanir simply stands and bows toward Devlyn and says “Of course.”
“Have fun with the boys.” I say with a slight grin, and Zanir looks at me with intensity, eyes narrowing, that flame filling his cerulean eyes once again, and I grimace with a shudder. His ability to strip through me with a look is something I hate. Analyzing, studying, and figuring out my weakness. Prick.
“After you, gash neck.” Iamys says motioning toward Zanir. Oh, man this is going to be entertaining.
The boys walk out of the tent and Gaelira sets down all her supplies next to the cot I’m still sitting in. Potions, bottles, papers, leaves, twigs, powders, pretty much anything you would imagine a skilled high fae healer would have.
“What the fuck did you get yourself into?” Devlyn says as Gaelira starts mixing a potion together.
Fuck.
Ch. 13
“Companions”
Water would be nice right about now. Devlyn squeezes my shoulder gently while helping me sit upward. Halfy moves and his paws now touch my legs. Zanir returns and hands the wet fabric to me. I notice when reaching for the fabric, my tattoos are just faint lines beneath the dried crusty blood. The Samca tattoo completely covers my wrist, but it is hidden under all the red. I start wiping. I need to get all this blood off.
Zanir moves back to the chair in the corner of the room, watching and surveying the passing scouts and guards from the tent entrance. Someone else has also had an eventful night…
“I need to take lessons from whatever did that to you.…”
That is what is causing the stir outside the tent. His voice seems deeper than I remember even though it has only been a week or so since I last saw him. I try and twist towards him and wince.
“Stop moving.” He laughs while handing me a canteen with delicious flowing water it sounds like. I hiss at him and then grab the canteen and quickly raise it to my lips. His blonde hair gleams against the sun shining through the entrance, as bright as the sun itself. He still does not look a day over sixteen, but I know he is almost eighteen because he reminded me every day during training. The day would be getting closer if he were allowed to come with the scouts. I watch as his eyes move toward Zanir who is dusting something off his shirt, trying to remain uninterested like usual.
“It was a Balaur, by the way Iamys…” I finally say turning toward him, toward the entrance. I remained sitting, every muscle in my body was trembling. If I stood, I may just fall on my face. I hand him back the canteen. I finally look up to the voice of the boy who I viewed as the younger sibling I never had. His deep brown eyes are wide and his mouth a gape.
“A water dragon? A three headed water dragon? Before any of us? Before me?” He glances at Devlyn and the person to his left, who I hadn’t even noticed at first, but that was the point. That was his job, to go unnoticed. To remain unseen while gathering information.
He was a dark-skinned male, with long dark braided hair down his back. He is wearing his guard leathers with two daggers attached to his hips. His hazel eyes scanning over me and then a glance at Zanir.
Devlyn taunts, “Iamys, I and Sadar, alone have fought many dragons, among many other things. Even fought alongside the dragon riders of Uscia in the last big war.” That is a story I need to ask about later, and I realize I sometimes forget how much older they are compared to Iamys or me. We all have stories to tell…
I adjust myself and clench my teeth as I move my shoulders. “Have any of you fought a dragon, as that same dragon?” I know the answer, but the opportunity to brag is always nice. Crushing dreams one friend at a time.
Most of the shifters within the clan can only shift to one or two forms. Mother and I can shift into anything that we study; we see, we witness and have what we call our true beast form, the feral inner beast.
Devlyn is a mystery. She has never given me her full background. I know she is a mix, but unsure about with what. She can shift between creatures she has killed with a blood connection, blood touching her skin. As far as the amount, I am going to assume infinite. So, I know she could if she wanted to shift into anything, but she never needs to. She is more skilled with a weapon in her hands.
Iamys is special and so young. His parents came the clan just a few years ago. He has been a pain in my ass ever since. He has one creature he can shift to, a lion, much like the lion that runs through the mountains, but rather than brown or tan, his form’s fur matches his blonde shining hair. He can shift into inanimate objects as well, such as chairs, candles, etc, too. Which is a nice trick and sometimes incredibly annoying.
Sadar is a shifter like us, but of a different breed. Sadar is what is called a pureblooded Varcolac. Sadar fled from one of the Varcolac clans after the pure blooded, his own family, started slaughtering any Varcolac that were not of pure lineage, half-bloods and turned included.
Mother praises on our clan being open to all kinds, shifters, high and low fae, and other creatures. All individuals of all shapes, sizes, and forms.
I feel all their eyes on me, waiting for all the details, waiting for all that I will offer. I wonder where Gaelira is. I use the fabric I have and wipe around my neck, again. My tunic is long gone, and my shirt is stained red and is sheared into thin pieces. Covering all the important bits thankfully, but my sleeves are completely gone. Exposing my shoulders and neck. A row of teeth marks run from my neck to my shoulders start to appear as I gently and painfully wipe away the dry blood. My tattoos are also regaining their color.
“Let’s just say Balaur left with one working head. One was barely hanging on by a few ligaments, and the other is at the bottom of the lake.”
If Iamys mouth could reach the floor, it would be there. But it is Sadar who brings the conversation back to the important part. “What is a Balaur doing in a lake in the endless forest? And not along the coastline near the sea?” His body focused and holding no emotion.
Zanir starts, like he is not in a small space as a mortal surrounded by highly trained and powerful beings, “Because someone or something is binding creatures within the endless forest, all around Adros, and beyond.” He says with a bored tone and flicking something off his tunic.
My eyes widen. His arrogance for a split second makes me second guess if I truly took his powers from him. I felt it. I felt it leave my body and absorb into him as it ate through his power, his mortality, leaving nothing in its wake. No scent of power comes from him, only mint and pine. He knew of the bindings. Was that what he was going to speak with Muma Padurii about?
“How’s your neck?” Iamys says like a razor, his arms now across his chest. His bow and arrows slinged across his shoulders in their quiver. His brown eyes viciously staring at Zanir.
“It’ll heal. Good thing I’m more than just a pretty face…and neck.” Zanir says now looking at Iamys, with the same fierceness in his eyes. Nyx, two egotistic males in one tent, one small tent.
I glance at the tent entrance, clear for now, and say quietly, “Everyone this is Zanir. Let us just say he decided to mess with the wrong person and is tagging along to see if Mother can help him retrieve something he lost…but he will have to prove it first.” I shoot him a look and all he does is shrug with a curl on the edge of his lips.
“I should have aimed lower then…” Iamys says, and claws can be seen in his clenched fists. Protective like a younger brother he is.
Devlyn, Iamys, and Sadar are a few trusted by me who know my true powers and can easily piece together that I took Zanir’s powers, his mortality, and know I must have had a good reason.
Gaelira comes through the tent entrance with her arms full of bottles and papers. She nearly runs into Sadar as she strolls in. “Oh...” She quickly stops and drops one of the bottles. Sadar leans down and hands her the bottle, with a small smile. The most expressive I have seen him be in ages. She replies with a small smile, too. “Unfortunately, I will need some space for my items to properly begin the healing for Lady Mihaela.”
Devlyn looks to Iamys and Sadar, “Go get the scouts and guards ready to move out on my order. We will move out for Faymore, the human village past the valley between Zis mountain ranges once Mi is healed enough.” Thank Nyx, she stopped the whole princess spiel. We will rest once we get to Faymore. Take Zanir with you.” She looks at Zanir now. “Halfy, and Lady Mihaela spared your …life.” Such ice in her words, “But if you choose to travel with us to see Queen Zeva, you’ll earn your keep.” She motions toward Iamys and Sadar.
Zanir simply stands and bows toward Devlyn and says “Of course.”
“Have fun with the boys.” I say with a slight grin, and Zanir looks at me with intensity, eyes narrowing, that flame filling his cerulean eyes once again, and I grimace with a shudder. His ability to strip through me with a look is something I hate. Analyzing, studying, and figuring out my weakness. Prick.
“After you, gash neck.” Iamys says motioning toward Zanir. Oh, man this is going to be entertaining.
The boys walk out of the tent and Gaelira sets down all her supplies next to the cot I’m still sitting in. Potions, bottles, papers, leaves, twigs, powders, pretty much anything you would imagine a skilled high fae healer would have.
“What the fuck did you get yourself into?” Devlyn says as Gaelira starts mixing a potion together.
Fuck.
