Author’s notes: Fuor is pronounced Fju-or, just so you know.
I was thinking of not continuing to write… I felt that the two second chapters were not as appreciated as the first one. I know that they are not as good, but I have been trying to figure out what to come next. The second and third chapter I actually had no idea, so they were perhaps slow, and even a bit dull (okay, a lot) but now I know where this story is going at least for the five chapters coming up. So have patience, please! And do not forget to write if you liked this, I’m not that good to take criticism, but I do need the roses – I’m low on self-esteem.
I have to say this as well, the first chapter was one where I could do it in my own time. I felt a bit… well, how to say, in a hurry writing the next two. Now I will not rush. This will come in due time. If I take my time, it will be so much better, believe me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The beauty of the castle lying before me was greater than anything I knew. The façade glowing white – how could it get so white? – and the towers climbing high in the sky. Our rich country overpowered by this green prosperity. Perfect lanes of trees, full of juicy fruits, gardens and fields colouring the landscape green, yellow and blue. This was the land of Veriton.
Alexander and I had run away. We had to see those creatures that children heard tales of, the beautiful Wilijies. Alexander stole two horses – well, he did not steal, they already belonged to him – and in the dead of the night we rode. (I remember now that the border-country between Veriton and Aarenion, our land, was then as green as ours and theirs. I wonder how it got to be so… dead.) We rode for three days, never stopping, just for an adventure Alexander had conjured for the sake of him soon to be a king.
The Wilijies are… beauty in itself. They look androgynous. Velvet black hair. Long graceful limbs. My mother used to say that they are the offspring of elves, the race that was endangered and exterminated by the so much more fertile humans. And the legend says that an elven man fell in love with the Wolfgoddess Fuor, the black wolf shapeshifter, whom treaded the earth when only a few elves still lived. The elf was named Wilij, the tale goes. Fuor rejuvenated the elven race with more fertility and an almost vicious look, like beasts of prey. Wilij’s and Fuor’s children were half immortals, not living as long as an elf, but neither as short as a common human.
Then, Veriton was peaceful. We were not harmed, even though we ended up in trouble – trouble that Lex caused. Soon the king came for us – for Alexander. I got a good beating when I finally came home, a week after my departure.
Huh, I could not sit for another week.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The beautiful man led me to the camp of the Moonsisters. I noticed many soldiers looking at me, almost staring. When I stumbled someone grinned, showing a lecherous smile.
“I told you that many will take joy in your mishaps.”
I kept silent, afraid to stir anyone else to speak to me. I was afraid of their looks, not too few showed the same vision in their faces as the officer had had in his face when he first saw me – the officer I had killed last night. I walked with my head facing the ground, believing it would make me invisible.
“Here we are. Let me introduce you to the Wizers. This is Amram Lothansdaughtir, she ended up in some trouble and I think she will fare better here, than walking in the end of the army when we march. Amram, this is Joanja Greens, and here we have Goovar Berdesdaughtir. I trust they will see that you get a weapon and a shield, because there will be a… small skirmish today and you’re expected to fight, just as everybody else. Now I bid you farewell.”
He walked off, and I followed his back with my sight. I did not like how Joanja looked at me; I could see her in the corner of my eye, staring with a vision of hatred. When I turned to face the Wizers again I was toppled over by the weight of a sword and a large wooden shield.
“Prepare yourself for battle, Amram Lothansdaughtir…” Joanja almost spat out the last syllables of my name. “From now on you will not turn away from our gaze when we have your attention and you will every time refer to us as Wizer Joanja, or Wizer Goovar. Is that clear?!”
Goovar helped me up from the ground. “I understand… Wizer Joanja.”
Joanja turned around, leaving Goovar and me alone. “Don’t take her the wrong way, Amram, she seems not to care, but instead she does. Although there might be one objection from her side, she cannot speak of it, as it will judge her to be unjust.”
“What injustice might that be?” I asked, trying to hold the heavy sword in my hand. I had grown weak in my hands, these last few days, away from home.
“You noticed that she spat out the ‘daughtir’-part of your name, and she can never claim herself to be a ‘daughtir’ herself. That is the injustice.”
“I am sure she holds greater power than me…”