part of any of this is exaggerated?”
Harris thought for a moment, he placed his hand
to his chin. “It says in the book, The Commander told
Cally, the author, of his travels,” he grabbed his other
boot and began putting it on, “that isn’t true, most of
them she witnessed, I only gave her small snippets of
my travels, the rest were from other taverns.”
Her voice softened; her eyes began to droop.
“How many have you killed, Harris?”
Harris sat up; his pride withered. “I couldn’t tell
you, all I know, is that every one, was Atlanti fighting
blood,” he defended. His past was clear to Librye,
regardless of how he wanted to see it, he was a cold
killer. Harris, however, was still her guardian, her
protector, and her friend, she would have it no other
way. “That is why I was never charged for a crime, no
crime can be committed against, ‘those who fight the
common enemy of the crown,’” he quoted. Harris sat
forward, he looked deep into Librye’s eyes. “What it
doesn’t mention in that book, are those I saved, the
village I turned the Atlanti from, killing no one, the
Atlanti village I was in, I saved three women there,” his
eyes shone with a rarely seen hint of pride, “the
hundreds I have saved, should outweigh those I’ve
killed.” Harris stood; he made his way towards the
door. “A bit of advice you may wish to keep close to
your heart, Librye,” he turned to face her, “you can do
a thousand things right, save countless lives, but make
one mistake, and that is what people will remember.”
His words shook her, from that moment she knew he
felt forsaken, those who spoke of The Shadow, spoke
of those he had killed, not the thousands he had
saved.
“Harris, can I tell you a secret?” she softly asked as
she drifted towards him. Harris stopped, he slowly
closed the door and stood ready to listen. “When I
was in the camps, there was a boy, a lot of them were
mean to me, but he would hurt us, some of the other
girls there, he touched them in places.” Harris saw the
look of pain in her eyes, he could see she had
witnessed some atrocities, just like he had. “There was
one girl, she ran to the woods after he touched her, we
never saw her again,” her voice was broken, “he tried
to touch me again, he came towards me,” her
concentration broke, “I did something to stop him,
but when it was discovered, by the camp keeper, he
was beaten, I struggled.”
Harris crouched in front of her. “Whatever you
did, I am sure it was for the best,” he softly said, trying
to comfort her.
“No,” she lifted her eyes, her voice remained a
broken softness, “I felt nothing,” she whispered,
“Every scream I heard from him, I enjoyed it,
knowing he had caused so much pain,” her teeth
seemed to grit as Harris slowly stood, seeing the hate
in her crushed him, “every lashing he took, I never
wanted it to end, I wanted him, not only dead, but
suffering.” Harris parted his lips, shocked to hear such
words filled with hate from a child. “I know he
suffered, but sometimes, I feel like he just didn’t suffer
enough, he should be dead.”
“Librye, forgiveness starts with the end of the
breath,” he softly said, again he quoted Malgron,
“failure to forgive, is drinking the poison of your
enemies, one day, you will learn that you must forgive,
in order to continue.”
“Do you?” she stepped towards him, reaching out
she took his hand, her haunting orange eyes looked to
him, “do you forgive, Harris?”
He took a moment to think, her eyes frightened
him that day, it was a colour he had never seen. “I do,
I forgave my mother, and I will forgive myself, for my
misguided hate, one day, even the Atlanti, the Azorae,
they will be forgiven too.”
“We can only hope,” she whispered. Harris had
brought happiness to the lives of many, his eccentric
tactics were brutal, but Librye knew now, she was just
like him. He would rather end a life fast, rather than
see the suffering he could bring. He had been a killer
for so long, but now, Librye saw him as a saviour.
The palace was busy with the usual hustle and
bustle as he walked from the tower and down the east
corridor. Stepping into Librye’s room, he helped her
back into bed, before Mord finally appeared.
“Oh!” she jumped as she saw him by Librye’s bed
with his hands in his pockets, “you’re back then?”
“I am, Mord, and I can assure you, it will be for a
while,” he promised, he carried a secret in his eyes.
“I only hope you managed to have some form of
relaxation,” she said with raised brows as she walked
to the other side of Librye’s bed, “it’s been chaos in
the palace.” Harris furrowed his brow, he took his
hands from his pockets, wanting to know more. “A
letter came for Brenin, yesterday, it arrived early
hours, by falcon, the other part of the prophecy.”
Harris’s face lit, he quickly left. “I’ll see you later!”
he called as he ran from the room. Darting through
the palace he quickly came to Brenin’s chambers.
“Where is it?” he excitedly asked as he ran in.
Brenin looked up from his desk, the council had
been postponed that morning. He replied with a low
tone, “I knew you would be the first one on it.” He
handed the letter to Harris.
Placed inside a hard leather binding, Harris pulled
the single piece of parchment out. His eyes searched
the paper. His mouth was gaping as he looked to
Brenin.
“This can’t be right?” he took a seat opposite
Brenin. His mouth remained gaping and eyes were
wide. “How can this be right? the law is the law,
Brenin.”
“It say’s it,” Brenin softly replied, “the law must
change, for the prophecy to be fulfilled.”
Harris glared towards him, he seemed hurt, like
time had been taken from him. “What have the
council said?”
“They have agreed talks,” replied Brenin, although
he did not sound convinced, “Kailron has spoken, he
has confirmed Librye is the child of the prophecy.”
Harris placed the parchment on the desk, he sat with
his elbow resting on the arm of the chair, a fist caught
his chin and mouth as he glared towards the desk.
“Harris, this is a surprise to me as well.”
“What is?” asked Branwen as she stepped into the
open door of the chambers. Harris, shocked, relaxed
his arm, his stomach felt weak as she stepped inside.
“Harris, are you alright? you seem pale.”
Harris placed his arms firmly on the arm of the
chair, he looked towards her, trying his best to hide
the secret in his eyes. “I’m fine,” he
softly replied,
knowing he was lying.
“How was Sonnin?” slowly she walked towards the
desk and stood by Brenin’s side.
Harris gave a tight smile. “Magical.”
“As always,” she softly said, “but what is such a
surprise?” she looked to Brenin.
Brenin turned, he seemed to hold a deep
sympathy for Harris. “The prophecy,” he awkwardly
mentioned.
“I’m yet to read it,” she admitted, even though it
had been on Brenin’s desk since she had arrived, she
was not one to give in to curiosity. Harris stood, he
handed her the first part of the prophecy, followed by
the second. Branwen’s eyes searched the page as she
began to read aloud.
“A child of fate, darkness fills the land, hope is
lost. Time is no longer our friend. Enemies will stand
in all corners of Cammbour. We are the forgotten
ones. The stars will speak her name, they will know
her, they will name her.
She will be found among perfect soil, the child will
contain all, the child will be all. The child will anger,
the child will be torn, the child will be broken.
Spoken of by the stars. It came from those who
govern all. A gift to the lands to guide us. Its fate will
be sealed when it is known. The child will grow, it will
suffer, and it will not suffer for long.
The child is a broken star, call it the star child if
you must, but be warned, the star child contains the
power of the stars, it contains all that is known on
Cammbour, it may know more.
The child is a leader, a follower, loyal, trusting, it
speaks to those on high, it sees all that can be seen by
them, it hears all that is there to be heard.
The child is Cammbour, and it is the child of the
stars.
Tataria will await the child when it is new, when it
returns to those who sent it, it will be given a choice.
What the child chooses will be followed by those who
sent it.
Take heed to this warning. The child is strange, it
sees all, it knows all, it can love, it can destroy, it can
ruin, and it can rebuild. The child of the stars will
unite, guide, and protect.
Take it from the depths of dread, nurture it, love
it, protect it, for there is none other, than the star
child, the guided one, the grateful one, the powerful
one, the perfect one, the broken one.
It will come to you, before you need it most, it will
learn all it needs to of the world, it will destroy, it will
kill, it will spread fury and rage, it will spread love, life
and laughter.
Be taken by the child of the stars, be loved by the
child of the stars, for the child is wonderful, righteous,
divine and needed.” Branwen stood for a moment,
her thoughts were swirling around her head as she
thought of Tataria. “Why would it say, ‘Tataria awaits
it?’ surely, this isn’t speaking of Librye’s death?”
Harris shook his head. “It speaks of a choice, that
she will be given many trials, that is why we are all
here, to make sure she makes the right choices, she
doesn’t find Tataria to be an invite to her, death, is a
strange thing when sorrow takes hold,” he looked
directly towards Branwen, knowing she knew exactly
what he was talking about.
Branwen took the second page, she again began to
read aloud. “The child of the stars will grow. The child
of the stars is she. She will love beyond her means; she
will live a life deserving of her deeds. Her fate is sealed
in the one she calls husband, the son of a king?”
Branwen stopped reading, “Librye is a commoner,”
she said with a high tone, “in order for her to marry
the son of a king, the law must change,” she looked to
Brenin, he waved his hand, inviting her to read on,
“she will guide him to victory, she will seal his fate.
A love everlasting will renew the world of war.
Their love will heal, their love will bind, their love will
know no bounds.
The child of the stars will bring the true king
home. The dragons will fly when the king is found.
The child of the stars has been written, let it be
so.” Her voice seemed to break. “How can this be?”
Brenin took a deep sigh. “The council will prepare
talks at the start of Aenlic, for now, we wait.”
Brenin stood and walked towards the bookshelf
closest to his desk, with his back turned, Branwen
looked directly towards Harris. “So soon, it could be
possible the law will allow the union between a
commoner and royal?”
“That is the plan,” replied Brenin, Harris glared
towards her, she could see his tight lips pressing
together, wanting to say something, needing to say
something, yet he remained silent. “For now, the law
stands though,” said Brenin as he turned back towards
the desk, bringing a red leather-bound book.
Harris quickly stood. “What are your plans for
today?” asked Branwen, holding back every feeling
she had spinning around her ill feeling stomach. The
news had shaken them both.
Harris looked around the room. “I have work to
do, Bran, my duty here is to ensure the safety of the
people of this city, I can do that better if I’m there.”
His voice was a quivering mess of unrequited terror.
“Besides, now we have Tosta and Belgravia, it won’t
be long, and negotiations will begin, I need to prepare
myself.”
“You are leading them?” asked Branwen, shocked
that Brenin would allow such a thing.
“Xencliff, merrow, mabeara, Cronnin and Atlanti,
it all runs through my veins, who better to lead, than a
man who has everything?” he looked into her eyes.
Branwen gave a fleeting glance to Brenin. “I did
not know you were merrow and Atlanti,” her voice
seemed to fill with fear, a dread took over her eyes.
“Come on, Bran,” smirked Harris, “many of us
contain all, what makes me different is merrow, not
Atlanti, I am still Xencliff, to the deepest core of my
bones.” It was an odd feeling as she watched Harris
leave, she felt differently about him now. She did not
care for his linage, knowing they had a chance at life
together sparked her attraction, she felt it alive in her
once again, she felt hope.
The streets were seeing the cold onset of Autumn,
the Greendia moon was yet to complete its course
through the skies, but the sun felt cold, the bitter winds
raged at Harris as he made his way through the streets.
The people of the city were surprised to see him out
alone, but he was The Commander, he did not need
protecting, he was the protection they had.
A small tavern on the corner of Small Street had
caught his eye, beside it, a barber’s shop stood empty.
Harris stepped inside, a young man looked back
toward
s him, his hands seemed to shake as he looked
towards the HCC.
“Better stop shaking boy,” said Harris as he
stepped further in, the daggers on his boots rattled like
chains as he came towards the young man, towering
over him he looked down. Harris pointed to his hair.
“What can you do with this?” he asked in a deep
voice.
The young man’s face lit, like a new festival had hit
him in the face he looked to the long black locks of
hair. “So much,” he said with a gleeful sigh.
Harris sat at the low chair, his decision was made,
he would become the man Cronnin clearly wanted
him to be. “Tell me, commander,” said the young
man as he began his cutting, “what made you do this?”
Harris took a slow blink, he hated the idea of
changing his image, but so much had happened in
such a short time, he needed to become someone
different.
“My blood is Xencliff, I hate the Cronnin style, the
little shit on the door to the palace is hounding me
constantly, they even had a vote,” he said with a tone
of shock as he turned, “can you believe that? an entire
palace, voting on the state of my hair?”
The young man continued cutting as he replied, “It
sounds like they care about you.” Harris glared to him
through the mirror in front. “Anyone who cares that
much about someone’s hair, must care greatly about
the person it belongs to.”
Harris nodded slightly in agreement. Relaxing
back, he mentioned, “Just, keep some Xencliff.” His
voice seemed to spill desperation; it had been years
since he had cut it. The barber struggled as his hair
was so thick, but he knew exactly what he needed to
do. He kept his hair long, a simple trim was all he
needed, thinning it out with a razor to make it seem
less thick. Harris could still tie his hair, but it would
not be so untamed, Cronnin had tamed Harris and his
wild barbaric hair.
It felt cold to Harris as he headed back towards the
palace, he felt as though the entire city was staring at
him, that was because they were, the barber was one of
the best, his shining green eyes seemed to shine more.
A neat cut had given him more power and presence
than before, and he enjoyed it.
The palace gates were oddly quiet as he came
towards them, a woman, dressed in dark brown
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