Brenin’s mind had been plagued with her words,
he would do anything to change the painful subject of
war. “I don’t yet, but one day I would like many
children.”
The Unknown Girl was certainly odd, she
suddenly stopped. “I think we should go back; it isn’t
safe this way.”
Brenin caught his hands behind his back as he
turned towards her. “What makes you say that?”
Without a single thought the girl replied, “My
secrets.” Brenin looked confused towards the girl. The
secrets she spoke of were certainly frighteningly odd.
“They told that a pack of wild boar are roaming close
to the border of the forest, last year a boy was severely
injured by them. We should turn back.”
He was intrigued about the girl’s ‘secrets.’ “How
did your secrets tell you this?”
“In my head,” she replied with a high tone, she was
surprised he would even have to ask.
“Very well,” he agreed. They both turned and
headed back towards the camp. Such a strange
interaction was yet to get even stranger as they came
upon the old path into the forest.
The forest was now only used by the Unknown
Girl. A small village beyond the woods would often
bring supplies to the camp. A new road had been
built, along the northern pass, they no longer found
the need to use the old road in the forest.
Brenin began to make his way out of the darkness,
clambering through the low trees, the same way he had
entered.
His attention was soon caught; he noticed the girl
had stopped near the old unused path. His curiosity
had taken hold of him, as he watched through the
breaks in the trees, towards the Unknown Girl.
Peering towards her from the other side of the
forest, he saw her lift her tiny hand towards the old,
overgrown path. Slowly, the brambles loosened their
grip with the ground, the bindweeds began to retreat
into the darkness of the forest. Dust was sent flying
from the dry old road below. He heard the loud
creaking and cracks of breaking and loosening. For the
first time in over ten years the path started to show. A
long-cobbled path could be seen, stretching into the
heart of the forest. The girl simply stood with her
hand in the air towards it. Brambles at the side slowly
crept back into the ground, the small sapling trees
were slowly sucked back between the cobble stones.
Brenin was awestricken. He knew of the power of
the pooka, an ability to change nature, helping it grow,
and yet, he had never seen or heard of such power in
a fey. The girl was strange, but it was the most
beautiful version of strange he had ever seen.
Skipping back towards the camps the Unknown
Girl joined his side.
“That’s better,” she said with innocent wit. “I keep
getting caught by brambles,” she explained. He
struggled to remain plain faced. “But now, I’m very
tired.”
Brenin could see that her powers had a staggering
potential. He could think of no words, he had never
even seen the pooka with such strong power over
nature. She even rivalled the fey, with all their magical
might they seemed to have nothing on the tiny,
Unknown Girl. Brenin followed her back towards the
camp.
His mind was on fire with questions, he could not
leave her in the camp, her talent would either be
wasted or exploited, either way, he had a need to keep
her safe.
“I think that today you should be given your
name.”
The girl turned. A look of utter delight spread
across her face. “I would like that, but I don’t know if
I’m ready.” Self-doubt took hold of her.
Brenin knelt in front of her. His knees thudded to
the ground. “What do you need to be ready for?”
The Unknown Girl was remarkable, she knew
what question she needed to ask, but she would only
take her name with the right answer. “I need to know
“Your purpose is to be the best form of you, you
can possibly be, anyone’s purpose, is to protect their
world, to lead by example, to follow with heart and
honesty.” Each word he spoke seemed to ignite the
Unknown Girl’s spirit.
Her eyes lit with pride, “To lead, to follow, to
protect, by being who you are,” she said with a smile, it
was the answer she had waited long to hear. “I can be
that.” Her lip seemed to quiver as she softly said,
“Then I shall be that; I shall be Librye.”
Brenin stood, he knew the name of the ancient
ones, the gods on high, the name of Librye was only
given to the Valkyrie who had earned the name, ‘How
did the little girl know?’ he wondered, ‘How could
she, at only five, possibly know that the name of
Librye even exists?’
“Then your name is Librye, and that’s what it shall
always be,” he softly said.
Making their way back to the camp, Brenin could
think of a thousand questions for the child, but he
only wanted the answer to one.
“How would you like to live in a palace, Librye?”
he asked as she skipped by his side.
“I would like that.” Her innocent sweet voice sent
a shiver through him each time she spoke. “But I
wouldn’t be allowed in a palace.” She was certain of
her words.
Brenin felt enchanted by the child. “Why wouldn’t
you be allowed?”
Librye stopped skipping, she stood completely still
as she replied, “Because, I’m a fucking freak.”
His heart seemed to stop as he heard her say such
a thing, “Why would you say that?” he asked, shocked
at her words.
“That’s what the other children say, my back isn’t
right, there’s a lot wrong with me, even Madoc thinks
me strange,” she said with a twisted mouth.
Brenin took Librye’s hand in his. “Do not listen to
them,” he insisted, “remember, I’m a king, I like nice
things, that is why I like you.” His smile grew as he
became lost in her innocent eyes.
She said with a solemn voice, “But I am strange, I
like it that way, but I don’t like my back, sometimes, it
hurts, a lot.”
Brenin’s curiosity had again been triggered. “What
is wrong with your back?”
Librye turned; she pulled her tatty cotton dress
forward to show the outline of the lumps on her back.
“One of the boys once said my dad fucked a torb, and
I was a freak, another said my mum was a porne of the
Xencliff taverns, her client was a torb and had me,
either way, they say I was unwanted.”
Brenin inspected her back, his decision was made
from then, the Unknown Girl would soon be known
to all. Such power could not be wasted in a war camp,
such a talented mind bel
onged by his side, at only five
he knew he could mould the girl into the woman he
knew she could be, the protector, the spirited leader,
the loyal follower, whilst remaining herself, Librye.
As the morning broke, so did the skies above. The
north would often bring an early snow before winter
engulfed the lands. The old forest had turned to a
frozen vista, offering nothing but a bitter, windswept,
and unwelcoming warning. Still, as the snow
consumed the land around them, Librye skipped from
bunkhouse thirteen and made her way towards the
forest. Making her way to the old path, now covered
with snow, it still offered an easier way into the forest.
From his slumber, Brenin woke. He did not plan
on staying long in the camp, his plan was fulfilled, he
had seen the camp, he had shown his face. Brenin
knew that the news would soon spread towards
Bourellis, that the voice of the pooka and torb’s had
been heard. The king had been to inspect the camps,
and improvements would now be made.
As he emerged from the guest house, he made his
way towards the warden’s hut, hoping Madoc was
already there. Constantly followed by his guards,
Brenin needed a break from the mundane every day
of his title. Stepping into the hut, he saw Madoc stood
by the window.
Madoc turned and greeted him with an arm across
his chest.
“The winter will be a harsh one,” said Madoc, he
murmured, “this close to the Ceile moon usually
offers a warning of snow, but this will cause some
upset.”
Brenin stepped into the room. “Speaking of
upset,” he said with a low tone, “the girl, she told me
her name.” Madoc turned; he was awestricken. “She
also told me a few other things. I would’ve mentioned
it when I returned.” He stepped towards the window,
the cracks on the glass had already begun to show as
the deep freeze set in. “I saw the power you
mentioned.” Brenin raised his brow. “Matters like this
should be reported to the council,” he warned.
Madoc shook his head in disbelief, “The council
would do nothing, I mean no disrespect, to yourself or
the council, but the child was safest here.”
“I don’t mean the Cronnin council,” said Brenin,
his tone became soft as he looked from the window, in
the hope of seeing Librye. “I mean the council of
Bourellis, the power the child holds, is beyond
anything I’ve seen before,” Brenin turned to Madoc,
“that is why, upon my return from Marrion, I expect
to see the child, in the palace of Cronnin.”
Madoc shook his head. “I know I will be stricken
down for this,” his voice quivered, “I would need
permission from the Cronnin council, to remove a
child from the camp, without a parent –”
“I’m the king, Madoc!” barked Brenin. He gave a
cynical look to Madoc, he laughed and replied, “I can
defend my arguments,” he looked from the window.
“Have her in the palace before the Seooer moon, I’ll
be sending for her myself, by the time she arrives in
the palace, I should be returning.”
Madoc would not argue, he knew that Brenin
could be eccentric, but to adopt a child was unheard
of from a king, queen, or anyone of nobility. She
would become the kings ward, but how the council
would react would be a sight for Brenin’s own
pleasure.
He enjoyed annoying his council, usually through
harmless decisions, he would often plan trips to other
kingdoms without them knowing, only to arrive back
to a stressed council in tatters. Brenin’s power had
dwindled with time, but he still had his own supply of
power he kept to himself.
Stepping from the hut the deal was done. As
Brenin made his way from the hut towards the old
forest, he somehow knew he would find Librye
somewhere amongst the trees. Each step he took
sounded like a hundred steps, it grinded at him,
suddenly he turned, the same four guards followed
him.
“I can’t even piss in peace!” he shouted to them.
The guards stood back.
One raised the courage to speak. “Apologies, Sire,
but it is our duty to protect,” he sheepishly said.
Brenin’s eyes looked sharply towards the guard. “I
am your commander!” he barked, “these woods are
surrounded by pooka, never in the history of
Cammbour has a pooka harmed anyone, I don’t
believe they’re going to start now,” he mocked, “now,
take the rest of the day off to contemplate your future
in the Kings Guard.”
The men quickly turned and walked back towards
the camp. Brenin was finally left in peace. He made
his way towards the path he had seen Librye free the
day before. Stepping onto the path, he could see her
small footprints in the snow. The tiny girl had left
imprints all the way to the fallen redwood where she
sat. Hearing him approach, Librye turned.
“If you’re here to see Mother, she isn’t here,” she
said with a tone of disappointment.
“I’m here to see you,” said Brenin as he made his
way towards her, “I have news for you, Librye.”
She turned to see him as he arrived at the clearing.
“Is it about the palace?” her look of expectation
startled Brenin.
Brenin drew back. “How did you know that?” he
asked utterly baffled.
She looked to the redwood and began to dust the
snow from it. “My secrets, they told me that I need to
say goodbye by the end of the next moon,” she
revealed.
Brenin said, in a satirical tone, “There goes my
surprise then.”
The day was spent with his advisers, plans were set
for the masons to build a hundred new bunkhouses,
twenty new bath houses, five new mills and twenty new
training camps. The fey of Sonnin would be invaluable
in the camps, as the training soldiers would be sent to
instruct the next generation of fighters. Warriors
would be sent from the war camps; their vengeance
would be realised for many.
Her secrets had been kind to her, she was only a
child, they needed to be gentle with her. As Librye
made her way back that night towards bunkhouse
thirteen, she felt strange, stricken with something she
had not felt in a while. Change had hit her, it had
welcomed her, and she finally knew what excitement
was. The girl would finally be free from the camps.
The lingering evening soon hit Librye, looking
from the window over her small, crooked bed, she
glared towards the snow. Voices of young girls all
around her seemed dull in her moment of
contemplation. The vale of snow seemed perfect, a
strange glow over the forest seemed to light the
mountain, the moon was bright that night, it was the
brightest s
he had ever seen it before. A strange feeling
of hope lingered, her heart was beating fast, knowing
she would eventually see the palace of Cronnin. Her
secrets were never cruel, but they were honest, she
knew her life was about to change, but she also felt the
impending fate her secrets had placed on her tiny
shoulders.
Chapter Three Meeting in Marrion.
he harsh winter winds died; the rough
mountainous terrain turned to beaten rock
T paths. Scattered grasses remained short in the
harsh sun as it blasted down on the land. The passing
to Marrion would usually take no more than four days,
but as the stone and shingle landscape began to
change, so did their speed. They left the north, and
headed south west. Angry sandstorms swirled in the
skies; it took days from their already gruelling journey.
Finally, the rolling orange hills of Marrion were in
sight, the heat was a horrifying change for them. The
Kings Guard were ready for a rest, but Marrion was a
place of ongoing war. Time slowed as they saw the
towering castle. Chests tightened, their legs weakened,
even the horses could sense the anxious moods of
their riders.
A grey, towering castle stood upon a large bay on
the coast. Its haunting appearance stood dark on the
bright orange landscape. The dry sand of Marrion
clung to everything, a mist of orange and yellow wind
created an everlasting sunset on the land. The cliffs
where castle Marrion stood, towered over the large
field to the west. Its empowering presence stood
proud above the rolling fields below which led towards
the blue sea of Endrea.
A distant call of sea birds was lost as the call of
carrion crows took over. Nature was outcast in a land
taken by the bloody battles the Atlanti had brought.
“Their mission to conquer far out-weighs their
intellectual capabilities,” said Brenin. His carriage kept
him comfortable from the chaos outside. Small dark
circles under his eyes told of his concern. Afie, his
chief adviser had seen his slow decline since leaving
the camps. He sat in the rocking carriage as it
thundered into Marrion, with his elbows resting on his
knees.
Afie sat opposite Brenin. She was a small woman,
she had seen Brenin grow from a small needy child, to