Ch. 15
“Resilient”
“Jealous?” I say with a sly smile as I stand up. My gray shirt blowing against the slight autumn breeze that has not died out at all this whole time. I finally glance to where Zanir is. I cannot help it. Something keeps drawing my attention back to him. Which is getting annoying.
He has jumped off Halfy and is displaying that overall bored demeanor, but his eyes lock on me. The flames in his cerulean eyes burning bright almost with the same intensity as the orange bright sun above.
“Of you?” Iamys eyes looks devious for a moment. “I do not see you ever turning into swords. Or a chair? Or a candle to listen to your enemies’ plans?”
I look back to Iamys and I laugh, a true laugh, deep within that echoes up the mountain ranges that surrounds us.
“I am sorry Iamys. I would rather fly, feel the wind, the fire, the ice within, than have someone’s hands all over me swinging me around, or under their ass, or blown out in a single breath.” I can feel it without looking back at him. I can feel his eyes, his stare. I almost feel like I can feel the heat that burns in his cerulean eyes. That observational gaze. I feel it absorbing me, like his shadows did the first night we met.
My eyes finally wander back in his direction, I cannot help it. I’m drawn to him even if I hate it. Despise him and his cockiness, smart assness. I flew for days traveling, exploring and out of the whole forest I was drawn to him. Ugh. He is leaning against a wagon that has stopped for a quick break as its leader stands halted on a tall black stallion.
Many of the fae, other creatures, and even some shifters have started going inside the wagons. So, he comes in and out my line of slight. He has his index finger stretched along his temple, the rest of his fingers covering his mouth, with his thumb resting on his chin. Only a small bruise on his forehead from the rock I threw at him. The gash Iamys gave him is still on his neck. His elbow resting on the edge of the wagon. His eyes burning into me. Studying. Taking it all in, taking me… all in.
A shutter runs down my veins. I shake my head and turn to Iamys who’s mouth is wide open at the insults I threw his way.
“Race you to the end. Loser gets to sleep at the camp with the scouts rather than at Viridian Vale Inn.” A smirk runs across my face now.
The scouts and my friends have had many days, and adventures that ended at Faymore, the human village, the closest one to our clan walls. I have only been able to go twice, but I remember every second.
Many of the scouts, guards, and many fae, and creatures who cannot pass off as humans set up camp within the endless forest a few miles out, but a select few can pass and come into Faymore. Some of the more human-looking scouts and guards are leading the ones who are not, into the back of wagons and tying the extra horses to them, so they can be led until we pass the human village. I know we are too close to the village to change now, so this is going to be a race of sheer will and smarts.
I have always been fast. Given my smaller, more compact frame, it is easier to move, not to mention I can increase the wind if I need to. My feet are already pounding against the ground before Iamys can even say anything. I pass Devlyn and her stallion rears up. I hear Iamys cursing and his bow clinging against his quiver full of arrows. I feel an arrow fly past my face, my hair blowing forward as it passes and lands into the wooden part of a wagon before me, shaking as it sticks out the side. I stop and shoot a look at Iamys, who is grinning.
“Children, play nice. No weapons.” Devlyn says while gaining control of her stallion and glances between Iamys and me. Even though she knows I have daggers in the leathers across my ribs, that is not the weapon of which she is speaking. I smile and with a flick of my wrist Iamys’ bow is blown about five feet away from him.
“I’m nearly thirty.” Well in two years, but I am an adult in the mortal sense even if I look younger than I am. “I am grown… and am a good little adult…” I twist my other wrist and Iamys quiver goes in the opposite direction another five feet. “But as you wish.” I bow toward Devlyn and have a devilous grin on my face, but my eyes are set on Iamys as he has reached his bow. My fingertips become warm, and I can feel the fire drip off them. Hissing as it hits the ground below me.
“Don’t you dare!” Iamys says once his eyes move back to me. His eyes narrow and his mouth a thin line.
“Snooze you lose, Iams.” I say while twisting myself back to the end of the valley and road that leads to Faymore, a tavern full of drinks and music, the inn with a nice warm bed. Oh, I have missed a bed, an actual bed.
I hear Iamys cursing, again, but I am already moving. My feet pounding the ground, sending a vibration through me. My hair blowing with each step. I feel the mud flinging off my boots the faster I move. I wiggle and move past wagons, scouts, guards, and horses. I can hear Iamys closing in on me. I know he has been training for his scout tests. Weaving and turning. Each step heavier than the last, my breathing becoming dense and unsteady.
We eventually both pass the end of the valley unfortunately too close to each other to tell who won. I will not hear the end of this one. The stone road is before us, going from east to west. A wooden sign points west, letters carved into the wood, saying Faymore.
“You’re getting slower with age.” Iamys says with his hands on his knees and mud speckled his face. Ha. Eat my dust, or mud actually. His breaths loud next to me. I lean against the mountain edge, and scoff.
“I haven’t had a decent meal in days, I fought more creatures than I like to admit, and passed out more times than I care to remember in a matter of days, and not to mention this…” I wave my arm, the bandage around my shoulder now wet with a mixture of blood and sweat. It throbs with each heavy breath I take.
Devlyn’s powerful stallion is what reaches us first. She slows her stallion into a trot before passing us and turning the large beast to face us while on the road.
“Who won?” Each of us is out of breath at this point. “Mi, you shoulder…” Devlyn shoots me a look before turning to Iamys. “Iams, you know you have to stay with the scouts tonight. Either way, right?” His face is priceless, eyes wide and looking at me, like he forgot. “Plus, I have a certain task for you.” She nods her head back behind us. Wagons are now reaching the entrance and behind the first wagon, he appears. Zanir is now on the back of the gray snow speckled mare he helped lead earlier. Halfy, I know is already scaling the side of Zis mountain to the west to meet the remaining scouts and guards who are going to set up camp further in the forest.
“This will be fun.” Iamys says as the wagons start to flood through on to the road. The smell of the Tavern starts to fill my nose, and I can hear the music.
Zanir on the gray mare passes us along with Sadar, who is leading Iamys’ horse. Iamys reaches for his horse’s reins and swings over her, effortlessly. A scout leading a few mares stops next to me, “Lady Mihaela.” He says while handing me a rein of a white mare with black and gray specks. She is a beautiful mare and oddly enough is the opposite to Zanir’s horse. Strange. The scout offers a hand which I politely take, but I push off with my slight wind breeze and swing a leg over the large mare.
“I need a drink…” I start and I can feel Devlyn eyes trying to burn holes into me, “and a nice meal first.” I say with a grin and give my mare a soft kick and take off down the road west toward Faymore. Splashing through the small puddles left after the rainfall from Solomaonri.
Ch. 15
“Resilient”
“Jealous?” I say with a sly smile as I stand up. My gray shirt blowing against the slight autumn breeze that has not died out at all this whole time. I finally glance to where Zanir is. I cannot help it. Something keeps drawing my attention back to him. Which is getting annoying.
He has jumped off Halfy and is displaying that overall bored demeanor, but his eyes lock on me. The flames in his cerulean eyes burning bright almost with the same intensity as the orange bright sun above.
“Of you?” Iamys eyes looks devious for a moment. “I do not see you ever turning into swords. Or a chair? Or a candle to listen to your enemies’ plans?”
I look back to Iamys and I laugh, a true laugh, deep within that echoes up the mountain ranges that surrounds us.
“I am sorry Iamys. I would rather fly, feel the wind, the fire, the ice within, than have someone’s hands all over me swinging me around, or under their ass, or blown out in a single breath.” I can feel it without looking back at him. I can feel his eyes, his stare. I almost feel like I can feel the heat that burns in his cerulean eyes. That observational gaze. I feel it absorbing me, like his shadows did the first night we met.
My eyes finally wander back in his direction, I cannot help it. I’m drawn to him even if I hate it. Despise him and his cockiness, smart assness. I flew for days traveling, exploring and out of the whole forest I was drawn to him. Ugh. He is leaning against a wagon that has stopped for a quick break as its leader stands halted on a tall black stallion.
Many of the fae, other creatures, and even some shifters have started going inside the wagons. So, he comes in and out my line of slight. He has his index finger stretched along his temple, the rest of his fingers covering his mouth, with his thumb resting on his chin. Only a small bruise on his forehead from the rock I threw at him. The gash Iamys gave him is still on his neck. His elbow resting on the edge of the wagon. His eyes burning into me. Studying. Taking it all in, taking me… all in.
A shutter runs down my veins. I shake my head and turn to Iamys who’s mouth is wide open at the insults I threw his way.
“Race you to the end. Loser gets to sleep at the camp with the scouts rather than at Viridian Vale Inn.” A smirk runs across my face now.
The scouts and my friends have had many days, and adventures that ended at Faymore, the human village, the closest one to our clan walls. I have only been able to go twice, but I remember every second.
Many of the scouts, guards, and many fae, and creatures who cannot pass off as humans set up camp within the endless forest a few miles out, but a select few can pass and come into Faymore. Some of the more human-looking scouts and guards are leading the ones who are not, into the back of wagons and tying the extra horses to them, so they can be led until we pass the human village. I know we are too close to the village to change now, so this is going to be a race of sheer will and smarts.
I have always been fast. Given my smaller, more compact frame, it is easier to move, not to mention I can increase the wind if I need to. My feet are already pounding against the ground before Iamys can even say anything. I pass Devlyn and her stallion rears up. I hear Iamys cursing and his bow clinging against his quiver full of arrows. I feel an arrow fly past my face, my hair blowing forward as it passes and lands into the wooden part of a wagon before me, shaking as it sticks out the side. I stop and shoot a look at Iamys, who is grinning.
“Children, play nice. No weapons.” Devlyn says while gaining control of her stallion and glances between Iamys and me. Even though she knows I have daggers in the leathers across my ribs, that is not the weapon of which she is speaking. I smile and with a flick of my wrist Iamys’ bow is blown about five feet away from him.
“I’m nearly thirty.” Well in two years, but I am an adult in the mortal sense even if I look younger than I am. “I am grown… and am a good little adult…” I twist my other wrist and Iamys quiver goes in the opposite direction another five feet. “But as you wish.” I bow toward Devlyn and have a devilous grin on my face, but my eyes are set on Iamys as he has reached his bow. My fingertips become warm, and I can feel the fire drip off them. Hissing as it hits the ground below me.
“Don’t you dare!” Iamys says once his eyes move back to me. His eyes narrow and his mouth a thin line.
“Snooze you lose, Iams.” I say while twisting myself back to the end of the valley and road that leads to Faymore, a tavern full of drinks and music, the inn with a nice warm bed. Oh, I have missed a bed, an actual bed.
I hear Iamys cursing, again, but I am already moving. My feet pounding the ground, sending a vibration through me. My hair blowing with each step. I feel the mud flinging off my boots the faster I move. I wiggle and move past wagons, scouts, guards, and horses. I can hear Iamys closing in on me. I know he has been training for his scout tests. Weaving and turning. Each step heavier than the last, my breathing becoming dense and unsteady.
We eventually both pass the end of the valley unfortunately too close to each other to tell who won. I will not hear the end of this one. The stone road is before us, going from east to west. A wooden sign points west, letters carved into the wood, saying Faymore.
“You’re getting slower with age.” Iamys says with his hands on his knees and mud speckled his face. Ha. Eat my dust, or mud actually. His breaths loud next to me. I lean against the mountain edge, and scoff.
“I haven’t had a decent meal in days, I fought more creatures than I like to admit, and passed out more times than I care to remember in a matter of days, and not to mention this…” I wave my arm, the bandage around my shoulder now wet with a mixture of blood and sweat. It throbs with each heavy breath I take.
Devlyn’s powerful stallion is what reaches us first. She slows her stallion into a trot before passing us and turning the large beast to face us while on the road.
“Who won?” Each of us is out of breath at this point. “Mi, you shoulder…” Devlyn shoots me a look before turning to Iamys. “Iams, you know you have to stay with the scouts tonight. Either way, right?” His face is priceless, eyes wide and looking at me, like he forgot. “Plus, I have a certain task for you.” She nods her head back behind us. Wagons are now reaching the entrance and behind the first wagon, he appears. Zanir is now on the back of the gray snow speckled mare he helped lead earlier. Halfy, I know is already scaling the side of Zis mountain to the west to meet the remaining scouts and guards who are going to set up camp further in the forest.
“This will be fun.” Iamys says as the wagons start to flood through on to the road. The smell of the Tavern starts to fill my nose, and I can hear the music.
Zanir on the gray mare passes us along with Sadar, who is leading Iamys’ horse. Iamys reaches for his horse’s reins and swings over her, effortlessly. A scout leading a few mares stops next to me, “Lady Mihaela.” He says while handing me a rein of a white mare with black and gray specks. She is a beautiful mare and oddly enough is the opposite to Zanir’s horse. Strange. The scout offers a hand which I politely take, but I push off with my slight wind breeze and swing a leg over the large mare.
“I need a drink…” I start and I can feel Devlyn eyes trying to burn holes into me, “and a nice meal first.” I say with a grin and give my mare a soft kick and take off down the road west toward Faymore. Splashing through the small puddles left after the rainfall from Solomaonri.
