dusted the air. The sun on his skin was warm, but
uninviting. Stepping back into his cold stone room he
took a leather bag from the floor of his room; opening
it he took a small vial out. A shining blue liquid lit his
face.
He quickly walked towards the sink at the side of
his room, he pulled the wooden plug down from
under the sink and filled the basin. Placing a single
drop from the vial into the sink he waited for the water
to begin a swirling blue. He plunged his head deep
into the cold water.
Opening his eyes, Grendel could see a dark room,
from the darkness stepped Harelda. She was a slim
woman, her frail frame spoke of an ageless power, a
long blue cloak covered her, shining caramel hair
flowed around her, a few flecks of silver showed her
age, but added to her presence, reaching to her waist.
Her petite features and large eyes rang of the fearsome
power she held. Her age had not touched her perfect
skin, perfectly pink, small lines of age around her eyes
were the only blemish her face held.
“You have news,” her soft dominant voice echoed
through the dark room.
Grendel replied with a low tone, “Not of Brenin,
or Branwen,” he shook his head, “I do bring news of
the Unknown Girl,” he said with a wonderous tone,
“You need to meet her, she is remarkable, I have seen
many things in the world but this is something else.”
Harelda barked, “Enough of the dramatics,
Grendel, tell me!” She did not care for those who
minced their words.
Grendel knew he could not create suspense with
his queen; she was a woman of few words.
“She was found in Farhope, the only survivor,
taken to the camp in the north, Brenin saw her and he
has adopted her into his care. She is currently cared
for by Mord, while he conducts business. The girl is
strange, she holds power, of that I am certain, but I
also think the girl may have the blood of the torbs.”
Harelda asked with a cynical tone, “What makes
you say that?”
“She has wings, not yet formed, her blood is hot,
not warm, she holds promise,” his voice was filled with
a plea to his queen.
Harelda stepped further into the room, the water
where the face of Grendel appeared from was placed
upon a plinth, the room was carved stone, upon the
plinth was a large round stone basin.
“Watch her,” ordered Harelda, “soon enough I
will see for myself,” she said with a low grumble.
“Now, have you heard word of the new commander?”
she asked with a more pressing tone.
The stories had fascinated Harelda, she had
followed him for a while, and now she wanted to meet
the new champion of war.
“Brenin is in Marrion, he should be returning as
we speak, I’m sure he will divulge everything relevant
upon his return,” assured Grendel.
Harelda slowly blinked, her haunting dark blue
eyes were a maddening black in the darkness. “Very
well, Grendel, stay safe, the world is trembling,” she
warned.
Instantly he pulled his head from the sink, pulling
the plug the liquid drained. Taking a towel; he walked
back to his bed and sat. Ruffling his wet hair with the
towel, he could not help but be concerned for
Harelda, her ever growing need to see the new
commander was odd for her.
Grendel eagerly awaited Brenin’s return. He had
taken to watching Librye as she made her way each
morning into Brenin’s chambers.
A cold winter moon had brought a frost to the city
of Cronnin that morning. The afternoon sun battled to
thaw the frozen ground, to no avail. As Grendel sat in
Brenin’s chambers, he could not help but watch
Librye, slowly making her way through the vast library
of books. He was completely dumbfounded that at
such a young age the child showed such promise. He
would often ask her questions about the book she had
read, each time, she answered perfectly.
looked towards her curled up on the balcony.
Her eyes peered from the pages of the book. “It’s
called Ailment of Alchemy, fascinating,” she
commented, “it’s about the repercussions of using bad
alchemy.”
“Ah,” grunted Grendel. His eyes remained staring
towards her, fascinated with her abilities, “dark magic
takes from its user, just as it does its victim. As with the
ancient arts, to take a life using magic, would bring
punishment from the ancient spirits.” He suddenly felt
rather disturbed, at such a young age she was learning
about the iniquitous side of something as glorious as
magic.
Finally, a carriage approached the main gate to the
palace. The crunching gravel outside stirred the palace
guards as they straightened themselves on the palace
steps.
Brenin had returned, but the unrest he had created
would have to wait. As Brenin made his way from his
carriage, he bolted through the doors and headed
directly to his chambers. Brenin nodded at the
insistence of his council to call a meeting. A vacant
smile broadened his face as he continued his path up
the stairs. Brenin began to remove his leather gloves,
he passed them to one of the several staff who
followed him, another took his cloak.
Mord soon came scurrying down the stairs towards
him.
“Sire,” she gave a languid bow. “I managed to sort
her room,” she quickly followed him up the stairs, the
rush seemed all too much for her. “However, she has
opted to spend her time in your chambers,” she
quickly explained.
Brenin listened and gave a quick nod as he flicked
his brows, he could not wait to finally see Librye, he
had thought of nothing since leaving Marrion.
“Is she well?”
Mord panicked as she tried to explain, “She will
be,” she stuttered. The rush was all too much as she
raised her voice, “Sire, please stop!” She stopped at
the top of the stairs. Brenin froze in his tracks as he
began to turn towards the mezzanine. Brenin lowered
his brow and listened intently. “Thank you,” she
sighed, “Grendel stayed, it was lucky,” she explained
as she walked towards him. “Her, ailment,” she
awkwardly said, “A few days ago, I couldn’t wake her,
as I stepped into her room, I came upon a scene of
carnage, it appears that the issue she’s been having, is
somehow, growing,” she tried her best to explain.
Brenin furrowed his brow, he was trying to follow
what Mord was saying but struggled.
“For goodness sake!” he said with an annoyed
tone, “is she well?”
“She is now,” replied Mord, “but her shoulder-
blades, her back, they grew, it pierced her
skin,” she
abruptly said, “Grendel has it in hand, but I believe
he’s sent word to Sonnin, to our good queen
Harelda.”
Brenin nodded as he placed his hand on the door.
“So long as she is well, Mord,” he softly said. He
seemed to hold little concern for what she had told
him, although his eyes drifted to the door handle
before he stepped in. He stopped at the door and
looked to Mord. “I will need to speak with you soon,
alone. Before dinner, please, join me here,” he
requested. Mord gave a low nod and left towards the
kitchens.
Stepping into his chambers, Brenin was greeted by
a look of utter confusion, as Grendel sat at Brenin’s
desk. His hand caught his chin and feet were resting
on the desk as he stared towards the mezzanine, the
many papers upon the desk had been sorted into large
piles at the side.
Grendel turned to see Brenin step inside, he
lowered his legs from Brenin’s desk and remained
seated in Brenin’s chair. Brenin made his way towards
his desk, his brows raised with a look of incredulity.
“Apologies,” said Grendel as he stood, he slowly
walked towards Brenin, his hands were behind his
back as he glanced towards Librye. “I’m fascinated
with your girl,” he was impressed with Librye, she had
shown an ability he had never before seen, and her
compassion towards those who had shunned her was
shocking to Grendel. “Having spent many days with
her, I feel suitably educated.”
Brenin made his way towards the stairs of the
mezzanine. He raised his brow, giving a wide smile.
“I hope she hasn’t been causing any issues?”
Grendel walked closer, his voice was filled with
wonder as he explained, “Well, during our journey
here, the conversation was some of the most
interesting I’ve ever encountered. Her love of nature
truly matches the fey, but she has several other
attributes.” Librye noticed that they were talking about
her, she gave a quick glance over the mezzanine, then
quickly looked back to her book. “However, she
shows a need for secrets, certainly like the ggelf. I’m
yet to see the powers you spoke of, but I’m sure
they’re there, strength also, she’s strong but this will
need testing, other than that, she is remarkable,” he
said with approval. He joined Brenin as he made his
way up the staircase. “All children are remarkable of
course,” he continued, “but some, are more so, than
others.”
As they made their way to the top mezzanine; they
saw Librye sat at the end surrounded by books. Her
head was buried deep in a book, her dark hair trailed
over her shoulders as she sat with her legs crossed.
“That’s odd,” mentioned Brenin as he turned
towards Grendel. Grendel pulled his brows down with
a lingering question. Brenin whispered, “In the camp,
her hair, I’m certain, was auburn?”
Grendel raised his brows. “There is nothing
surprises me with her,” he replied, he did not whisper.
“She is the changing girl, her eyes change every
morning, like the days, her hair could also follow the
patterns of the seasons?” a tone of wonder filled them
both.
The shoeless vision he had seen in the camps was
far removed from the girl who now sat atop his
mezzanine. She was a wonder of nature, but she was a
beautiful and frightening one.
“She likes reading,” said Brenin, seemingly
impressed.
Grendel replied with a high, impressed tone,
“She’s been here for three days, reading. She’s so far
read seventy-eight books, the girl is odd, but she is the
most beautiful example of odd I have ever seen.” He
swelled with pride as he looked to Librye, still sat
clutching her book.
“I did tell you,” said Brenin. He knelt in front of
Librye.
Her eyes drifted from the book she was reading;
the book was a difficult one.
“She also has perfect hearing and can understand
everything you are saying,” her sarcasm instantly
caused Brenin to smile.
“How have you been?” he asked.
Librye did not smile, she looked Brenin dead in
the eye and said, with a tone of annoyance, “It doesn’t
take that long!”
Brenin drew back. “What doesn’t?”
“You were in Marrion,” she said with a high tone,
she slammed her book closed. “You should’ve been
back three nights ago.” As she stood, she held the
book in her fist, her other hand also began to ball, her
shoulders were hunched forward.
“Apologies,” he said trying not to laugh at her
innocence, “we got caught up, in Roma, the taverns
there can be difficult places, it’s vital I meet my
people, Librye, but now I’m back, I can spend the
next few turns with you,” he said with a growing smile.
“And the council,” she abruptly answered, “they
aren’t happy with you,” she warned. “Or your new
commander.”
Brenin stood; he looked to Grendel. “How do you
know that?” he asked as he peered around the room,
“don’t tell me, your secrets?”
Slowly she shook her head. “Beside the door in
the main hall, there is a large door, through the door it
leads into the walls of the council hall, I got bored, so I
went in, I decided to explore,” she admitted. Mord
came into the room, she heard what Librye was saying.
“The new Commander, in the west, they said he is a
berserker, they don’t want him leading an army, they
seem convinced he will be dead soon. But they aren’t
happy with you either.” Librye stood, she took
Brenin’s hand as she began to lead him down. “I think
you need to stay home for a while, it will calm the
council, not everything is about rushing,” she softly
said with her tiny brows raised. Her dress followed her
down the steps as she made her way to the bottom.
Following Librye from the mezzanine, Grendel
and Brenin made their way down.
“I see she’s been busy,” said Mord with a smile as
she looked to Librye. She held her hands to the front
of her and looked to the floor, “I’ve tried to keep her
busy,” she explained. She quickly glanced towards
Brenin, she seemed shy as she did. “With a girl this
bright, in the pages is the best place for her.”
Brenin walked towards Mord, he placed a hand on
her shoulder, making her jump slightly. He stood tall,
his tone was low and soft. “You did well, Mord.” He
turned to see Librye. “Librye,” he leant towards her,
“sometimes, I get very busy, the palace is a very hard
place to live, how would you like Mord to become
your attendant?”
Librye greatly received his offer as she looked to
Mord. Her eyes brightened. “I wo
uld love that, more
than anything.”
Mord looked to Librye, she softly said, “And so
would I.”
The call for dinner finally rang, Librye quickly
made her way to the kitchens in the bottom hall. To
Librye, the staff there were much more interesting
than the councillors. Remaining in his room, Brenin
waited for Mord. The door to his chambers slowly
opened.
“I take it the flash I saw on the stairs was Librye?”
she asked as she stepped inside, “the girl likes her
food.”
With a grumbling laugh, Brenin lifted his head
from looking at the vast amounts of papers on his
desk. Scrolls spilled onto the floor. Mord stepped
towards the desk and began to pick the scrolls up from
the floor, to help neaten the area.
“Please sit, Mord,” he softly said, his tone was
strange, he seemed to have grown an age, following his
journey to Marrion.
Mord lowered herself into the chair opposite his
desk. She looked with her mouth slightly gaping
towards him. Brenin looked her deep in the eye.
“I’m sure you are aware by now, Librye is the child
you found,” he nodded, “you found hope, Mord,
Librye is without doubt a remarkable child, but as she
grows, she will become the power we need.” His voice
deepened to a darker tone; his eyes looked through
Mord. “We have a new world heading towards us, I
have given you the duty to care for Librye, because I
know she will need it.”
Mord felt strange. The innocent child she cared so
much for had already been through more than most,
she did not care for Brenin using her name in the
same conversation as war.
“She will struggle.” She rang her hands in front of
her, “she’s not like us,” Mord looked directly towards
Brenin, her heart felt weak as she glared towards him.
“She will need help, from all, the fey will need to help
her, even to the extent of the dragons.”
Brenin raised his brow. “I see,” he grumbled,
“well, I will expand her education, King Bushwell will
be sure to want to meet her, as well as Harelda.”
“Just remember,” snapped Mord as she quickly
stood; she gave Brenin the first warning he had ever
received from a commoner, “she is just a child, she is
not a weapon of your war, she is not a fighter, she is a