Heirs of War

by Mara Valderran

"I do trust you," she conceded. "But I can tell you're worried. And it worries me. I'm scared." Her prominent eyes glistened. "I can tell something big is coming, and I know there's no going back. I'm scared," she repeated, her usually wispy voice cracking.

  He pulled her into a tight and brief hug. "There's only going forward, Rhaya. Remember that. All any of us can ever do is move forward." He kissed her forehead and released her from his embrace, retreating into his bedroom with his cell phone already in hand.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Again," Kenward barked at the young couple he circled, his hands clasped behind his back. "It's a weapon, not a bouquet of flowers, Garrett."

  The young man stopped, brushing the light brown hair stubbornly falling over his eyes and to the side. He rested his staff on the ground, leaning against the weapon for support as he caught his breath and directed an incredulous look to his trainer. "You don't expect me to actually hit your daughter, do you?" he asked, his Western accent shattered by huffs of air.

  The girl in question used her own staff to knock his away from him in a low sweeping motion, causing him to lose his balance. "Don't worry, darling," she teased, a playful glint in her eyes, "I promise not to hurt you too much."

  Terrena and Garrett both grinned at one another before launching back into action. Her glances back to Kenward proved her Cyneward to be less than pleased with the smirk on Garrett’s face. Each move was lined with a laughter that would be far from present in a real battle, which she understood Kenward had been trying to prepare them for. He had been training Terrena almost her entire life, readying her for the violence to come.

  Kenward continued his trek around them, inspecting their moves with a deep scrutiny creasing the lines of his forehead. "This is a fight, not a dance, Terra." he chided in a naturally quiet voice that still managed to shake the leafless trees around them. "I do not think the Cahiran sympathizers will be laughing when they are trying to kill you."

  Terrena did her best to ignore the chills his comment sent down her spine, focusing instead on her parry instead of recalling the previous encounters with the Cahirans now tugging at her memory’s edge. She turned, swinging her staff, her dark hair whipping around with her motions and clinging to her sweat-soaked skin. She paused, lowering her guard to pull the strands from her face and giving her opponent the opening he needed to sweep his own staff underneath her legs. She landed on the browned grass with a grunt, glaring at the hand being offered to help her up.

  "Did you just stop in the middle of a fight to fix your hair?" Garrett asked, accentuating the last word with incredulity.

  She slapped his hand away and brought herself to her feet. "No, I stopped in the middle of a sparring match to get my hair out of my face. I had no idea you were going to cheat," she retorted heatedly in an accent matching his. She glared at Kenward’s retreating back, almost as if to blame him.

  Garrett spread his arms out. "Come now, my love. Your father would never let me hear the end of it if he thought I was going easy on you." He grew somber as he continued. "Besides, he's right. There's a war raging around us, Terra. What good are these sparring matches if we don't prepare ourselves for the violence out awaiting us? Any day, the war is going to land on our doorstep. Like your father says, Estridia cannot remain untouched for long."

  Terrena forced a stiff nod of agreement, her stomach churning. She didn't need to be reminded of the horrors plaguing the worlds. She played a more prominent role in the war than she would like, or she would ever be able to tell him. She started to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her to his chest with a playful snap.

  "The Terra I know would be furious if I let her win."

  She pressed her broad lips together both to suppress her amusement at his flirting and the wince of his referring to her as the Terra he knew. "The Terra I am doesn't fancy being knocked on her bottom." She rubbed the offended part as she tried to push aside all thoughts of the dual identities she'd carried with her since childhood. She'd always played the part of Terra while Kenward trained her to be Ainnir Terrena, the name and title he never dared to use since the day they had left Anscombe. "I'd rather not be limping around the festival tonight."

  "I'm still shocked your father is letting us go."

  She swallowed once more and offered him a weak look of agreement as her cheeks flushed with guilt at the lies she had been forced to tell Garrett. Her heart broke at the deception, but Kenward had been clear that he must remain ignorant of her true identity. She counted herself lucky Kenward had allowed Garrett to accompany them at all.

  She cast a look around, finding the warrior in question trailing a good distance behind them, as usual. Kenward had been staunchly opposed to her involvement with Garrett from the moment she met him almost two years ago. He had fallen fast for her, but she had been much more reluctant to reciprocate his attempts at romancing her. Kenward's warnings always whispered in her ears, telling her it didn't matter how charming the sandy haired young man with bright eyes happened to be. Nothing could ever come of their affections for one another. She had told herself this over and over again, but in the end, his draw had been too strong.

  She'd tried to hide her blossoming relationship from Kenward, but to no avail. Her secret relationship hadn't been news to him. As her Cyneward, his job was to watch, but not to intervene. As her surrogate father, his job meant protecting her from heartache as best he could. Unfortunately for him, the two roles he tried to balance tended to contradict one another, something Terrena had watching him struggle with since they had fled from Anscombe almost eighteen years ago.

  "He’s letting me go to the festival, you mean," she corrected, the humor leaving her face as the guilt from her deceptions once again weighed her down. "You're free to come and go as you please."

  "That is most definitely not the case," he murmured as his soft cerulean-blue eyes sparkled at her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, linking his fingers together so they rested on the curve of her lower back. "I am forever bound to you as you are aware."

  Her honey skin flushed at this as she ducked her chin. She didn't doubt his words in the slightest. Garrett had not let the troubles usually following Terrena sway him from his desire to stay with her. He had followed them with patience and without question as they moved from town to town, Kenward always insistent they never stay in one place for too long.

  He tapped his finger against her full bottom lip. "There's that beautiful smile. I knew you wouldn't stay mad at me long."

  She leaned forward, taking advantage of their somewhat matched height to kiss him. "I hate when you're right. If anyone asks, though, I took you down easily."

  He liberated her from his embrace and took her hand, his free hand rubbing his cheek. "No worries. I am fairly certain I am going to have the marks to prove your fighting skills are far above and beyond mine."

  "I'll prepare a cool cloth for you when we get home," she offered as they made their way from the clearing just beyond the edge of the town they currently resided in.

  She turned her head so as to hide the pain and longing she felt. Her affinity for the Earth element allowed her healing skills beyond those who trained for years, but to display her abilities would threaten to reveal her true identity.

  "The wound isn’t serious, Terra," he said, mistaking her sadness for guilt. "I promise, I will survive. Besides, a bruised face makes me appear more manly. I can tell people I defended you from a terrible creature, and they will be in awe of my bravery," he puffed his chest out, but deflated quickly as she laughed. "What? My story is perfectly believable."

  "I’m certain it is, but, unfortunately for you, I have every intention of bragging about my superior fighting skills."

  She guffawed as he pulled her into his arms, tickling her in retaliation before she squirmed free and broke into a run as their house came into view. He raced after her, their laughter singing to the trees they wove their way through. They both leaned against the back wall, catching their breath as they st
ared at each other as though the world around them had disappeared. She loved how he always managed to cheer her up even when he had no idea what troubled her.

  "I should go get ready for the festival since you ruined the back of my dress," she teased.

  He placed a kiss on the top of her nose. "Go check your room, and I doubt you will mind much."

  Her full cheeks brightened at the idea of a present, and she rushed inside like a child on the anniversary of her birth. She whipped around the doorframe, stopping short as she spotted the gift Garrett had left for her. There, in front of her window, hung a brand new dress made from a bright golden material brushing the ground in length. The trim consisted of a dark green fabric strip with bronze embroidered leaves lining the scoop neck and bell-shaped sleeves.

  "The dress matches your eyes," he said from his perch against the doorframe and referring to the amber flecks of her green eyes.

  "It's beautiful," she said, overcome with emotion. "Thank you, Garrett."

  He gave a slight bow of the head in answer before slipping around the door to give her privacy to get ready.

  Later that evening, the sounds of music and laughter filled the night air as the Lugnasad festival raged on, which was one of biggest celebrations Terrena had seen in years. The war-induced poverty of the lands had spread like an illness wreaking havoc on the worlds, so most towns didn’t have the means to do much for the festivals throughout the year. The traditional feasts were cut down to a mere breaking of bread, the hunts lucky to find any game at all if they even tried.

  This year had been different for the town they resided in. This year they were celebrating their first Wassail in ages, and the excitement buzzed through the small mining village. Wassail was the ritual to begin marriage contracts and always paired with one of the four festivals marking the calendar year. Terrena had been begging her Cyneward to allow her to attend though large crowds set him on edge. She skipped around the makeshift dance area with Garrett along with the other townspeople, laughing gleefully as she let the cares usually weighing heavily on her mind slip away for the night.

  The air of the mountain regions in Western Estridia was frosty and it hugged the people tighter together as the season’s first dusting of snow clung to the grass. The town square, which consisted of a well and a few market stalls, consisted of muddied ground from where people had been stomping and dancing around all day, melting the snow underfoot. A loud cheer erupted nearby, and they ceased their dancing, pulling off to the side to clap in time with the music along with the others. The happy couple took to the dance floor, the groom sweeping his new bride off her feet and twirling her around jubilantly.

  Garrett placed a hand on the small of Terrena's back, rubbing his thumb back and forth against the belt of her new dress. She turned to face him and leaned in for a small kiss. She rested her head against his shoulder and she watched the newly married couple celebrate, fighting against her own sadness as she feared the same happiness did not await her and Garrett.

  He pulled her close and placed a kiss on her forehead. "One day, my love. One day your father will give us his blessing, and we will have our celebration. He can't deny me forever," he said with a wink.

  She gave him a weak smile, wanting to take comfort in his words, but at the same time weighed down by the guilt from the lies she’d had to tell him over the years. "One day," she agreed softly.

  He took her hand in his. "Let's go for a walk."

  He made small talk as they left the celebrations and Terrena mostly listened. His voice mesmerized her, like a song she alone could hear. She couldn’t get enough, constantly prompting him with questions so as to prolong their conversation even further.

  He traced the curve of her mouth with his finger as they came to a grassy patch a little ways off from the town square. "What are you laughing about?"

  "I'm not laughing," she said as they seated themselves on the grass. "I’m thinking about how lucky I am to have you. You've given up your whole life to be with me, and I can't tell you what that means to me."

  He laughed heartily. "I'm lucky you let me follow you around the way I do. And your father hasn't killed me for doing so.” He drifted into a thoughtful silence. “There was no life for me back there," he finally said, his face full of acceptance and showing no sign of regret. "My life is with you, Terra."

  She put her hand on his cheek. "Even if my father won't consent to marriage?"

  "Even if your father marries you off to someone else," he promised, "I would still follow you to the edge of the worlds." He leaned in, kissing her softly at first and then more earnestly. He laid her back against the grass, lining her chin with small kisses before a final one on the tip of her nose. "Do you think he ever will?"

  Terrena turned her head away from his, blinking back tears. She wanted to stay like this forever. She wanted to remain Terra. She didn't want to be Terrena or return to her life in Anscombe. With each year that passed, the day when the choice would no longer be hers grew closer. "It was eighteen years ago," she whispered.

  “What?” He wiped a stray tear from her cheek before it reached her ear.

  She stared off into the distance, remembering. "When we left, my father and I."

  "Why did you leave?" he asked.

  "We had to," she answered simply. "We weren’t safe there anymore."

  "Because of what your father is?" At the panicked look she gave in response to his question, he elaborated. "Come now, Terra. Did you think I wouldn't notice he was Athucrean? I know the laws forbidding him from having a child like you. It doesn't matter to me," he assured her as tears began to form in her eyes. "I love you just the way you are, part Athucrean or not. I will never let anyone bring any harm to you or your father so long as I am around."

  She pressed her lips together, overwhelmed with emotion at the amount of blind devotion he showed them both. "I know you won't. I promise I will repay you for your loyalty one day."

  He chuckled at her vow. "I hardly think repayment is necessary, Terra. It's what you do when you love someone."

  They both let their heads drift back to the grass so they were looking at the stars with their hands intertwined, content to let the silence surround them for a few moments.

  He turned back to her, his face full of question. "Do you think you'll ever go back?"

  She looked to him, intensely, as though she were trying to burn the image of him like this into her mind. She traced the line of his jaw, a thin scruff covering his chin from where he hadn't shaved in almost a day, letting her fingers find the hair hanging around his ears. "I hope not."

  Weeks later, as the village began preparations for the Samhain celebrations, Terrena woke up with a bad feeling. It was the kind of feeling that rooted itself in your chest, taking hold and making a nest so it might grow as time goes on. She had first gotten the sensation only a few days after Lugnasad. Terrena had been asked to help them prepare for the Samhain festival since she had proven her hand at making wreaths. In preparation for the fire festival to come, there was talk of the feast they would attempt to prepare with the bakers and butchers, who would be offering their finest products, and discussion about which activities to partake in.

  Much to Terrena's surprise, this year they decided the bonfire in the town center would be lit in honor of the Ainnir Zelene and her twin Ainnir Ariana, both were born under the sign of Fire in their elemental calendar year. Eighteen years had passed since their birth on Samhain. The people wished to light the fire in the hopes they would soon be brought back safe to Anscombe, a silent prayer to the Mhathair Mhor, the Great Mother herself, to protect them until their return to the throne. They were a symbol of hope for the people. As they starved and watched their loved ones die in battle or from exposure or illness, they counted the days until the girls would return as women and bring about an end to the war as they were prophesized to do.

  This small gesture from this destitute town of poor miners and traders had moved Terrena greatly. People had spoken abo
ut the Duillaine Ainnir in her presence, but she had never seen them display their hope in the girls in such a way before. In that moment, she realized her time outside the walls of Anscombe was coming to a close. She would have to return soon. As each day after drew to an end, the breath she had been holding tightened in her chest as if she knew the next one would be her last one here.

  When she sat down to breakfast with Kenward, her sense of foreboding was affirmed by a visit from their neighbor. Ingrid visited them often, her interests in Kenward quite obvious to everyone but him. Terrena’s Cyneward looked very much like the warrior he truly was with his firm rectangular build and towering height, but he also happened to be a handsome man. His tawny colored hair usually hung around his chin and obscured his chiseled face, but served only to add an air of mystery to him. She figured his curtain of hair must also block his view of all the women fawning over him since he appeared to be oblivious to their advances.

  Under normal circumstances, Ingrid made herself highly presentable around Kenward, not a strand out of place from her bun and her cheeks perfectly rouged. Today, however, her clothes were disheveled, the edge of her pale blue dress covered in spots as if she had been running through the mud. She leaned over, placing her hands on her knees as her windblown hair fell around her face, and tried to catch her breath.

  Kenward shifted to the alert in an instant. "What's wrong, Ingrid?" he asked, his honey eyes full of concern.

  "I tried to get over here as soon as I could," Ingrid panted, "to warn you. A group of Cahiran scouts have been spotted not too far from here. The inn keeper expects them to seek shelter here. They seem to be looking for recruits, but I thought I'd better warn you to be safe."

  Terrena stopped chewing and stared wide eyed at the woman. Her heart seemed to be trying to rip itself from her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, but Kenward raised a hand to stop her, and she slowly chewed her breakfast again though the food now tasted like ash in her mouth.