Prologue

Princess Shalaya of Glacium is on the run as she feels a net closing in around her. Unknowingly, she is about to set in motion a series of events that cause the nation to be gripped by war

Shalaya's breath caught in her throat as she reached out for the steel handle of the heavy doors that lead to the dark wilderness beyond her palace. Pulling urgently on the metal, she hesitated a moment on the threshold to gaze fondly back at the flag-stoned walls she considered home, before realising that she had to leave before it was too late. Shalaya knew that she was closing in; her presence poking at Shalaya's conscious as she attempted to pervade her thoughts. This was the only way. The only way. These were the words Shalaya repeated to herself as she stepped out of the doorway and onto the cool snow outside. Shalaya shivered instantly as her bare feet made contact with the frosty paving slabs of the courtyard beyond. At this time of year, as far north as Shalaya resides, there was a permanent weather warning about venturing outdoors during the dark hours, for fear of frostbite or hypothermia, or even the Arctic wolves that roam the forests, but these are the least of Shalaya's troubles. These terrors are nothing compared to what would await her should she remain in the palace. Shalaya's heart beat tremulously in her ears as she made her way around the frozen fountain to the high wall that surrounded the palace. Shalaya was resolute - she knew that she was close. She didn't even want to imagine the retched name in case such thoughts would conjure her into existence; she wouldn't put it beyond that woman's powers. Shalaya had attempted to persuade those inside the castle of impending doom, yet even the servants had trouble believing her. If she knew one mental presence, it was most certainly hers, and Shalaya could sense it in the wind. Furthermore, if the presence was indeed hers, which Shalaya knew it to be, then there was only one thing that she wanted. Shalaya knew better than to stick around waiting for an attack when she could get help, and with none of the servants nor her father listening to her, a night-time flit was her only option.

The Palace was fiercely guarded, as would be expected of a royal residence, but even these protective methods would not be sufficient against a surprise attack. However, it did make Shalaya's escape slightly more taxing. Shalaya gazed about her cautiously. Having resided in this castle for all 19 years of her existence, she was fully aware of the positioning of all of the sentry droids that were placed around the palace walls and, as expected, she spied one to her right. She had timed it perfectly such that the lens was pointed in the opposite direction to where she stood, barefoot at the edge of the courtyard, facing the wall. Shalaya closed her eyes and envisaged within her stomach a large twisting ball of white light. Increasingly aware of her time limit, Shalaya created the picture as clearly as possible within her mind's eye before imagining it sharply increasing out of her stomach and body. From the cold draft she immediately felt, Shalaya knew that she had been successful. She opened her eyes to see what her other senses had already predicted. Surrounding Shalaya was an icy mist, encapsulating her perfectly, and concealing her from the view of the droids that searched for intruders, camouflaging her with the frosty brick wall, as well as hiding any signs of her body heat. Positive that she is beyond detection, Shalaya then focussed on traversing the wall to the world beyond. Shalaya had planned her escape to the letter and, knowing what to do, closed her eyes again, directing her open palms at the ground where the secure bubble ended. She tensed her hands and willed a connection between her fingertips and the sphere of ice that surrounded her. Relaxing her shoulders, Shalaya permitted only one thought to consume her brain. Up. Slowly, Shalaya began to rise into the cold night air. Her right hand began to cramp and she grumbled to herself, but couldn't stop her progress now that it had begun for fear of detection. She attempted to ignore it as she continued to rise on the painfully long trip to the top of the wall that surrounded the Palace. After what seemed a couple of minutes to her aching body, yet in actuality was probably only half at the most, she landed at the top of the structure. She dropped the haze of ice that surrounded her figure and steadied herself on the wall as a cool gust of wind moved her hair and dress about her body. She swept her blonde hair back behind her ear before absent-mindedly massaging her tense right hand. Shalaya had never before seen [Iceflow] from this angle. The castle lay in a very remote region of the country and was surrounded mainly by forest, though a long road did connect the Royal family to civilization as well as a more ornate residence to be used for public appearances and addresses. This location was reserved more for the holidays when the Royals wouldn't be disturbed by tourists in the deepest North of the country. The top of the trees framed the landscape as Shalaya looked at the moon high in the dark sky, surrounded by stars as it cast its purple light to the ground below. Shalaya couldn't remain up there for long. While the cold temperatures did little to her body, even she was able to experience too much cold. Shalaya turned her attention to the task of getting down from the wall without incurring injury.

Shalaya looked down to gauge her situation. The wind from her vantage point was clouding her ability to think, and she needed to move quickly as to avoid being seen from her vulnerable position. If anyone were to look out of a castle window, they would plainly see Shalaya standing on top of the Palace wall. She needed to get off it fast. As quickly as she could, Shalaya leapt to the closest tree and wrapped her arms around it before jumping to a branch further down and then dropping safely onto the ground. Her legs immediately buckled as she landed on the crunchy forest floor and she crumpled to her knees. The hairs on the back of Shalaya's neck immediately began to rise and for a moment she couldn't quite comprehend why. Then it hit her. She looked at the ground beneath her, her hands scrabbling in the dirt. The dirt. The floor of the forest was covered in twigs and branches and soil from the tall evergreen trees, which felt alien to Shalaya's touch. Something else was wrong too. Shalaya lifted her head up to try to gauge what it was, but the earthy smell was affecting her concentrating and making it hard for her to think properly. Then it came to her. The air was still, and stuff. She was closer than Shalaya had thought. Outside of the atmospheric bubble that surrounded the royal residence, it was not as cold as Shalaya expected it to be, even causing the snow to melt. Only one person could be responsible for this and Shalaya could only hope that this environmental change was localized. However, if this phenomenon was occurring solely close to the Palace could only be detrimental to Shalaya's safety. Shalaya's feet slowly began to shift through the soily undergrowth as she came to realization that she needed to escape as quickly as possible. The heat was affecting her thoughts, and she knew that it would be harder to summon ice in these conditions. She could barely even picture cold as beads of sweat, which were foreign to her skin, began to form on her forehead. Shalaya knew she was vulnerable in this state and her hand reached for her scabbard concealed on her upper thigh. From the leather band, she pulled out a knife, with a handle of bone that perfectly fit her grasp. The blade was 8 inches and tinged blue. As she continued to trudge through the forest, not knowing quite where she was going but knowing that she needed to make as much distance between herself and the castle as possible, she caught her own reflection in the shiny surface of the knife. Her white blonde hair stood out without the surrounding snow and she swept it back behind her ear and lowered her knife to concentrate on her trek through the wood.

A rustle came from behind her and Shalaya wheeled about in terror, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end once more. Her eyes darted from side to side, but she couldn't see any signs of life. Shalaya looked from tree to tree in the moonlight, her eyes trying to pick out any movement. She felt a burning sensation on her chest and looked down. The danger was real. The broach on her dress had now transformed from pale opalescent blue to the darkest red and the head on her skin was almost unbearable. She licked her lips and tried to summon saliva back into her dry mouth. Her breathing began to increase and the knife began to shake in her hand as she walked closer to where she thought the noise had come from.

The rustling came again, this time from behind Shalaya, and she span immediately, knife raised. Again, there was nobody in sight. Her ears prickled as it detected another sound and she frowned as she attempted to identify what it was. Then she realized. Flapping. It sounded like a bird taking flight. Her brain took slightly too long to decipher what exactly this means however, as before she had a chance to run, a figure dropped from the sky in front of her. 7 foot tall this mercenary stood, its body covered from head to toe in black cloth, with long curved scimitars for arms. There was a moment where the two of them stood, bathed in moonlight, waiting for the other to make a move. Shalaya swallowed despite the fact that her mouth was so dry it seemed as if no saliva would occupy it for days, and held her knife tighter, even if it shook. The shadow creature crouched and sprung directly at her. Yelling, she threw herself out of the way and rolled on the ground, getting back to her feet. She turned around and saw the creature and swung her knife wildly at it. The blade connected and the creature disappeared in a whirl of disintegrating piece of cloth. She let out a huge breath; her heart beating so much in her throat that she felt in danger of throwing it up.

He was only the first. After that one, the shadow creatures would come thick and fast until they were ultimately followed by their leader. She had to keep moving. That thought took a while to translate into action however and she hesitated momentarily before her feet shakily began moving. She was running now, as fast as she could downhill without losing her footing. Her body was moving with precious little thought or control behind it as she continually barged into tree trunks, all the while getting the sensation of people materializing behind her. As tempted as she was, Shalaya didn't look back, but kept her eyes focused ahead, not wishing to distract herself from her already scattered and spasmodic journey through the forest. She could hear the sounds of flapping cloth steadily getting closer from behind as more and more unidentified shadow creatures began to appear and she increased her speed instinctively. What are those things? Shalaya wondered to herself frantically. They must have been another monstrous creation engineered by Her. While in the midst of this disturbing thought, another creature appeared before her in a whirl of black fabric and she yelled, slightly unable to avoid it due to her high speed. The creature raised one of its sabred arms at her and she flung herself desperately to the left, avoiding the blade but causing her to slide out of control down the hill. Twigs and branches stung at her face and arms as she rolled through them before she suddenly collided with the bottom of a tree trunk, knocking the wind out of her body. She lay there a moment, her head spinning and feeling slightly weak. Her eyes couldn't focus and her vision was distorted and twisting in her dizziness, while her stomach churned in disgruntlement. She knew that she needed to get to her feet as quickly as possible; that she was in danger, and that one jab from one of the creatures would kill her instantly. She also knew, however, that she was wanted alive instead of dead, which was a thought that terrified her infinitely more.

Her hands scrabbled in the dirt and twigs, stinging at her palms, but she ignored this pain as her vision continued to twist about the ground. In desperation, fully aware of the need to put as much distance between the mercenaries and herself as possible, Shalaya pushed herself upwards and stumbled to her feet in confusion. Ignoring her distorted vision she put foot in front of foot with urgency, pushing onwards down the hill. She began to sprint, aware of the increasing possibility of falling over, but also of the appearing mercenaries rapidly gaining on her footfall. She needed to get out of the forest, but she didn't even know which way was best to run in. She could be running straight into Her clutches. There was only one option. The one road that Shalaya's father warned her that she should never take on the countless talks he had given her in her childhood. The ground finally stopped twisting about her feet as her vision returned to normal and she slowed her pace. She noticed a slight nagging at her temples and her blood ran cold. She was close. Shalaya could tell that much. She was trying to enter her brain. Keeping her mind strong, Shalaya refused Her entry as she pressed onwards with more urgency. The trees began to thin and Shalaya knew that she was close to her potential salvation. The path she was taking went against all the lessons she had been taught growing up, but this situation was certainly an extenuating circumstance. Then she saw it on the horizon. Her heart leapt and her pace increased.

The Field of Thorns. A great expanse to the east of the Palace, this area was the ultimate deterrent for any criminal threatening to enter the Royal Residence. Unfortunately, it didn't surround the Royal premises, hence other protective forces were put in place, but this stretch of spiny vines and branches was by no means ordinary. Folklore had it that these plants were far more sentient than their counterparts in the forest, according to what Shalaya's father had warned her of, before political relations had become so fraught that he slowly had less and less time to tell her stories. Whether or not his story had been genuine or not, Shalaya had not yet had the opportunity to discover, but even at her young age, Shalaya had detected sincerity in his voice. Her father had said that the vines in this field would grab at intruders, plucking them off the ground and dragging them to some unimaginably dire location. The details were vague, Shalaya's father had told her, as no man had survived to tell the tale. Part of her hoped that her father had been lying, though she needed the tale to be true so as to provide a suitable means of escape from her current dilemma. The thorns were much closer now, and the snow was getting deeper underfoot, seeming to indicate that she was getting further away from her pursuer. A swirl of black matter and she was shocked back to reality as a mercenary materialised in her path. She yelled, almost having forgotten their existence entirely. Reacting out of instinct, Shalaya raised her hands, a swirling haze of icy matter erupting from her palm and decimating the creature into black particles once more. Her mind focused once more, she increased her speed down the small incline, the thorns getting closer. They were larger than she ever imagined they would be. Standing 20 feet tall at the least, the mass of intertwined vines was a foreboding sight, but she had very little other choice at this point. Her heart was pounding in her throat and she was almost scared to take a breath in case it leapt out of her mouth. She had reached the edge of the field. She gulped. The vines were at least 3 metres wide at the base and must be unimaginably long. They were stationary now, but that didn't mean anything to Shalaya. For the first time since she had devised this plan in her head, she faltered. Was this really the best option for escape? Her attention was drawn back to the forest as she heard the vague sound that accompanied each materialisation of the foot soldiers. I should have never left the Palace, an insistent voice in her head repeated time and time again as her brain struggled to make a decision. Every second that she spent dawdling was time lost that could be better spent getting away and yet her feet still couldn't make an active decision as to which way to turn.

She felt a flapping at her shoulder and wheeled around to face the threat, thrusting her still withdrawn blade at the creature and causing it to disintegrate in a black whirl. She had spent too much time on her ruminations, giving the shadow creatures all the time they needed to catch up with her. The area outside the thorn field was now becoming overcome by the appearing mercenaries. With no other option save being captured, Shalaya braced herself and launched herself between the two closest vines, hoping that she would actually hit the ground and not be scooped up by an angry creeper.

Her foot collided with hard soil in the darkness between roots, but she had no time to linger. She pressed on urgently, leaping through the overgrown wilderness of mammoth vines, careful not to trip. For the first ten seconds, she thought that her father had been lying; that this expanse was merely the subject of wives' tales to deter young boys from wandering. Suddenly, however, she was lifted off her feet by an unseen force and she flew upwards through the air. She let out a desperate scream of shock and terror, her grip loosening slightly on her dagger. Her brain engaged and she held on tighter to her blade. Despite the air stinging at her eyes as she was whisked through the now animated weeds, she tried to reach her foot where the vine had hold of her. She swung wildly with the dagger but succeeded only in cutting a deep gash in her calf. Her vision sparked with the pain, but she had little time to think of this as she had been travelling through the air for quite some time. She could see the night sky through some of the vines, but she had no other way of knowing her location. Summoning up some energy reserves, she bent her leg as she was whisked between the moving tentacles of greenery and swiped viciously at the vine that had captured her. Her blade collided with the plant and the end turned black, turning to ash. Her body flew through the air, smashing into more writing plants and she bounced between them. No more vines grabbed at her body as she bounded from trunk to trunk, more by accident than as part of a strategy. Her lungs struggled to take breath as she was constantly winded by plants. She could see the night sky again and she was jostled and smacked about by the carnivorous brambles. A particularly vicious spike jabbed into her arm as she passed it and she felt blood begin to trickle down to her wrist. She didn't even have enough breath to cry out. She was increasingly aware of her need to breathe, but there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop the relentless onslaught of the plants. Her mouth opened feebly, hoping to somehow take breath, but her lungs simply had no room to move due to the constant battery that she was enduring. Tears began to sting her eyes. Is this really it? She wondered to herself. She'd never see her family again. The family that she had left at the Palace without so much of a goodbye. Will they find my body? They probably wouldn't. Not amongst these plants. At least dead she wouldn't be able to be used as leverage however. She would have thwarted Her plan, at least. If nothing else, then there was a small victory in her demise. She felt her body begin to grow limp, and she lost hold of her dagger as her fingers slackened. As her eyes began to close, she felt herself hit from behind and she was suddenly thrown from the fray, smacking down on cold snow in the open.

Her body shuddered as it tried to take in more air that it could. She breathed again and again, deeply and heavily, suddenly realising how tasty and heavenly air was. It was deadly quiet. As soon as her body relaxed, she looked ahead to see a snowy plane, with only sparkling lights in the distance. She allowed relief to spill over her body like treacle. Relief for her life; relief that she escaped the thorn field and relief that she had evaded capture. 

I made it. 

She inwardly rejoiced, a wide smile gracing her features despite her bruised and battered countenance. 

Her brain had acted too soon.

“Nice journey, Shalaya?”

Everything stopped. Her world seemed to halt where it stood. Her pulse thumped loudly in her ears and her breath caught in her throat. A cold sweat swept through her as tears came to her eyes in sheer terror. How can I have been so stupid? Slowly, she licked her lips and prepared myself before she got up and turned around, as if in slow motion. She tried to make a concerted effort to keep her voice measured and calm so that She didn't know how scared she was; but She must know - why else would she have put so much energy into fleeing Her grasp, even going to the extreme of throwing myself into a highly deadly situation.

“It was certainly bracing,” she replied, as if speaking to a friend as opposed to a murderess.

She strengthened her stance, despite her heart threatening to burst through her ribcage, and she stood with her feet shoulder-width apart as Maia serenely floated down to the ground, a cloud of icy dust rising up around her as she landed. Shalaya's tongue darted out of her mouth to bring some salvation to her dry lips while her eyes darted from side to side, looking for some possibility of escape. After the thorn field, there was nothing as far as the eye could see. Shalaya had wandered into an icy desert. The wind whipped at her face and she narrowed her eyes as she stared Maia down, her red dress wheeling gracefully around her legs.

“Why run?” Maia asked in a measured fashion.

Still at a distance of at least twenty-five metres, Shalaya coolly responded, “Why follow?” as her brain still attempted to figure out some method of fleeing the situation.

“You know why.”

She's not wrong, Shalaya admitted to herself.

“Then so do you,” she cried back. “I will not let this kingdom fall to you, Maia. I won't allow it.”

“You don't have a choice,” Maia giggled, slowly drawing her black hair back behind her ear as her thin lips tilted upwards into a self-indulgent smirk. Her eyes shone bright purple against her copper-skinned lips in the pale moonlight.

“Oh really?” Shalaya said, her voice breaking halfway between fear and anger. “You think I won't fight?”

Maia's head tilted back and her body shook as she let out a cruel shriek of laughter.

“My dear,” she condescended, “if you intended to fight, then why run?”

“I-- I wanted to give you a chance,” Shalaya cried, slightly foolishly.

“A chance to do what exactly?” Maia smiled, her eyes twinkling with mirth once more. 

“To live,” Shalaya declared, much more confidently than was appropriate for the situation. Even without her minions and tricks, in a battle of wits with Maia she would lose every time, even with both of Maia's hands tied behind her back. Give up, a voice in her head said. Shalaya had to concur that this thought was rational, and much more sensible than the alternative. She was a Royal, however, and the sentiment of rationality had long eluded her, and her late night fleeing from the castle was certainly not an exception to this rule. She refused to give up now, even if there was no hope of eluding capture.

Maia bent over in a fit of cackling, as Shalaya struggled to keep her aggressive stance. With a final satisfied chuckle to herself, Maia looked up at her and smiled.

“Do you really think yourself capable of that?” she smirked, slowly walking towards Shalaya.

Small clouds of ice dust billowed upwards where Maia trod with her . Shalaya's right knee began to tremble as her brain's natural instinct commanded her to flee. Maia was closing in, the distance between the two women reduced to a mere couple metres now.

“I have led thousands in battle, child,” she chuckled. “How many you?”

“You may have more blood on your hands, Maia,” Shalaya spat back, thankful that her throat was still capable of making noise with her getting closer and closer still, “but my cause is right.”

“Right?” Maia laughed. “Right? How naive and sentimental. There is no wrong or right in war. Moral and actual victory are completely separate entities, girl.”

Shalaya could feel the heat of Maia's breath on her skin and her pulse began to start racing, her brain sensing immediate and apparent danger. Suddenly, her hair was whipped backwards and she found herself staring directly into Maia's gleaming amethyst eyes. Her fingers scratched at Shalaya's scalp where she had grabbed her hair and she twisted it between her fingers causing Shalaya to bite her lip to avoid any verbal confirmation of the pain Maia was inflicting upon her.

“You know nothing of a just cause,” Maia gloated self-indulgently.

“Protecting my kingdom from you is just cause enough,” Shalaya grunted.

“I'm the least that your kingdom has to fear,” Maia chuckled.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You've been stuck inside your castle too long, Princess,” Maia spat condescendingly, “you have absolutely no idea.”

“You don't scare me,” Shalaya whispered.

“Oh don't I?” Maia laughed.

Maia released her grip on Shalaya's hair and the Princess fell to the icy ground. Maia walked away as Shalaya spotted many of her shadow creatures forming in a circle around them.

“What are they?” she asked, rising shakily to her feet.

“What? These?” Maia asked, gesturing at the beasts. “I call them dustmyres. Just a little nightmare I cooked up in the Well of Eternal Dreams in Ethereum. Now are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“Combat,” Shalaya answered. “I demand trial by combat.”

Maia giggled to herself as she turned her back on Shalaya. Shalaya licked her lips and gulped anxiously.

“Where did you hear that, your father?” Maia chuckled. “This isn't a judicial hearing, you don't have any rights. But okay. I'll play your little game. Trial by combat it is. You win, you can go free. I win, and you are mine to do with as I see fit. I believe that is the normal procedure?”

Shalaya nodded agreement.

“Let's get started then,” Maia smiled, her hand rising.

Shalaya saw the shadow monsters begin to close in.

“No!” she shouted imperiously. “Call them off. This is between you and me, not them.”

“As you wish,” Maia grumbled, dropping her fist to her side belligerently.

Shalaya rubbed her palms together and strengthened her stance as she faced Maia.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Shalaya?” Maia asked.

“Perfectly,” Shalaya snapped, flicking her hand aggressively. A shard of ice erupted from her palm and rocketed over to where Maia stood. Maia waved her arm and the ice shard exploded in a whirl of flame.

Shalaya glared at Maia defiantly, determined to remain resolute. Maia twitched her finger and a jet of fire sprayed towards Shalaya, who promptly ducked and threw herself out of the way, rolling on the snowy ground. Maia fired another set of flame and Shalaya raised her hand, deflecting the heat with an icy mist. 

“Sure you want to continue, Princess?” Maia sighed, wearily, not having moved since the fight had begun.

Shalaya grumbled and got to her feet. She just nodded, then raised her hands once more. She concentrated hard; she wasn't very good at this. While she was a natural in terms of creating ice, she found manipulating water much more difficult. With little time, Shalaya desperately conjured the image of a waterfall in her brain, then shifted her hands forward, creating a spinning whirl of water that flew at Maia, catching her off guard. Maia fell to the ground, and Shalaya continued her arsenal, firing small spouts of water and shards of ice at her fallen assailant. The dustmyres twitched, but didn't move to halt Shalaya's attack.

Maia's eyes flashed bright purple, and she raised both her hands. A bolt of forked electricity erupted from her body and collided with Shalaya, sending her flying off her feet and tumbling to the ground below. Bright sparks of pain filled her vision as she pushed herself back upright. She saw Maia also on her feet as a pillar of flame launched itself from her fingertips towards Shalaya. She raised her hands in a defensive position, sending a blast of water towards the oncoming attack. The two attacks collided in the air, and steam started to rise from the point of contact. Shalaya tensed her entire body, trying to push back Maia's offensive. She appeared to succeed, as Maia's fire began to recede further towards her body. Shalaya felt herself start to tire, and her hands began to cramp again. She had to remain strong, so she bit her lip and continued to tense every muscle she had to try and push Maia back.

Maia thrust one of her hands forward and the fire intensified, beginning to edge its way closer to where Shalaya stood. Shalaya's right hand finally seized up and closed, weakening the jet of water streaming from her mind and she was overcome by Maia's firepower. Maia's flames collided with Shalaya's body and she was blasted backwards. Shalaya lay on the ground, exhausted. She knew that she needed to get up, but somehow couldn't find the strength to crawl upright.

“8...9...10...” she heard Maia mutter. “Is that a conclusive victory, then?” she sneered at Shalaya's fallen body.

Shalaya could only muster a grumble in response.

“Take her,” Shalaya heard Maia command.

Shalaya closed her eyes in resignation and allowed herself to be lifted up and carried to the ground before Maia's feet by two of her dustmyres. Maia gripped Shalaya by her chin and forced her head upwards.

“Look at me,” Maia said quietly.

Shalaya's eyes were still out of focus and she found it hard to focus on Maia's face. After much blinking and squinting, she finally gazed upon her captor's features.

“I know, Shalaya.”

“What?” Shalaya frowned. “You know what?”

“I know what you can do,” Maia replied.

“What?” Shalaya gulped. “How?”

“That doesn't matter.”

“I haven't told anybody yet,” Shalaya muttered. “Not even my father.”

“I have my ways,” Maia shrugged. “I need it.”

“I can't control it.”

“You will.”

“I can't,” Shalaya asserted.

“You will help me, Shalaya,” Maia snarled.

“Even if I wanted to, I can't!” Shalaya cried. “I can't control it!”

Maia released Shalaya's chin and threw her back to the ground, striding aggressively away. Maia raised both of her hands at Shalaya's body, and two vines of pure electric energy latched to Shalaya's head. Shalaya writhed in the snow in agony, experiencing so much pain that she couldn't even make a noise of anguish. The pain stopped.

“Maia...what are you...doing,” Shalaya gasped, clutching at her head.

Maia didn't reply, but merely repeated the same act again. Shalaya twitched and rolled on the floor, tears springing to her eyes and her hands clutching at her sides. Her fingernails began to tear at her own flesh and she bit her own tongue so hard that she felt blood begin to pour into her mouth. She was released once more.

“Maia,” Shalaya croaked. “You're going to kill me.”

Again, Maia offered no response, but raised her hands once more. This attack was more powerful than the previous and Shalaya's mouth jerked open. Her head span back on her neck and she screamed a silent scream at the sky, while her body tried to curl up to protect itself. Shalaya's brain felt as if it were going to spill out of her skull and onto the snow in liquid chunks. Then, the pain stopped again. Shalaya heaved a sigh of relief and lay back on the ground, waiting for the next onslaught. There was nothing. Shalaya opened her eyes, and saw it.

“Aurora,” she grumbled. “Get of here. Go.”

“It came to protect you,” Maia said simply. “As I predicted.”

“What do you want with him?” Shalaya demanded, feebly, still unable to get up.

“Exactly what you were going to do,” Maia shrugged.

“What?” Shalaya spat in confusion.

“You were fleeing your Palace to find Callon, no?” sighed Maia, rolling her eyes. “There's no use pretending. I know of his reputation. Controller of the King's Guard, or whatever his official title is.”

“So? What do you want with Aurora?”

“I need you to send him a message,” Maia replied.

***

Callon was awoken by a bell ringing. He immediately scrambled out of bed, grabbing his coat as he did so and throwing it on as he ran out of his room. He ran down the small staircase that lay beyond and into the small dingy entrance room.

“What is it?” he asked, urgently.

Only three people were in the room, sitting at the small wooden table, the only piece of furniture there.

“We have a visitor,” the most senior man said, indicating the window.

Callon turned his attention to the window and saw sitting in it, a sparkling translucent phoenix.

“He wished only to talk to you,” the man shrugged.

Callon approached the windowsill, slightly in awe of the creature. He looked into its bright white eyes and was momentarily spellbound, before he turned his attention to business.

“What is it that you wish to discuss?” Callon inquired, diplomatically.

“Maia,” the phoenix replied, its voice low and soothing.

Even the name was enough to cause a shiver in Callon and he blinked slightly longer than usual before turning around to the three sat at the table.

“Tabi, Fungus, go upstairs please,” Callon demanded.

The two teenagers rolled their eyes, but pushed their seats away from the small table and left up another small staircase without a word. Callon turned back to the small phoenix.

“What about her?” he asked.

“Maia has kidnapped Princess Shalaya,” the phoenix informed Callon.

“I see. Isn't this the King's news?”

“Maia was insistent,” the phoenix stated. “She says you know what to do if you want the safe return of the Princess.”

“That it?” asked Callon, slightly desperately.

The phoenix nodded, then began to fade from view, and disappeared from the window.

“Do you?” the man asked.

“Do I what, Folker?” Callon grumbled, still looking out the window, hoping to find some answers in the snowy street beyond it.

“Do you know what to do?” Folker clarified, rising from his seat and joining Callon by the window.

Folker leaned against the window and stared at Callon with his startling green eyes. Callon sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, causing it to flop over to one side of his head.

“Yes,” Callon confirmed.

“So?” Folker persisted. “What's the problem?”

“It's not an option,” Callon sighed.

“Ah,” said Folker. “Well we have to do something to sort this out. Kidnapping the Princess is an act of war. Maia knows that.”

“And so does the King. He knows he can't defeat Maia, so he's not going to declare War unless it's strictly necessary.”

“But she's his daughter,” Folker frowned.

“Doesn't matter to him, apparently,” Callon shrugged.

“So what are we going to do?”

“Maia wants a War, she's going to get one.”

“But you just said...” Folker frowned.

“I know what I said, Folker,” Callon interrupted. “I don't just mean any war. I mean The War. The one we've been waiting for. The ones the people of this country have been reading in the stars for generations. The one that keeps showing up in tea leaves, and in the gurgling of riverlings.”

“What?”

“We know one thing that Maia doesn't. Do you remember the words?”

Folker shook his head.

“I can't exactly. But it's been around for years. It's in lullabies. My mother used to sing it to me to get me to sleep. I can't remember exactly, but it's something along the lines of that when the ice around the Palace melts, the war to end all wars will begin. And when that war begins, three crusaders will be needed. Pulled through from the abyss of time and entity, the elemental, the healer and the sorceress will bring salvation to this planet,” Callon mused to himself.

“The elemental, the healer and the sorceress?” Folker laughed. “Sounds like just another piece of folklore to me.”

“That's what I thought, before I knew better,” Callon shrugged.

“What's changed?”

“The ice around the Palace,” Callon replied.

“You don't even know that that's melted,” Folker scoffed.

“Don't I?” Callon snapped, glaring at Folker belligerently. “I know Maia. That's her thing. If she were going to capture the Princess, she'd play a mind game first.”

“So what then, we go in search of these people - the elemental and the healer and the sorceress? Where are we meant to find them?”

“Exactly where it said that we should,” Callon replied. “The abyss. We can figure this out. We can find them. As of this moment, Folker, we're at war.”

“We are?” Folker asked, perplexed. “Shouldn't you tell the country we're fighting for and the country we're fighting against before you assert that?”

“Don't need to,” Callon shrugged. “It's definitely coming, Folker. This is what this group was built for. We can do this.”

Callon, smiling unnaturally wide, turned around and swept from the room, back to his room, with Folker in tow.

“Did you hear that?”

“Yes,” Tabi grumbled back from where she sat on the stairs, out of view from the entrance room.

“He's started a war off a poem?”

“Apparently,” Tabi sighed. “And a bad poem at that. Remember the last verse?”

“How could I forget?”

The two teenagers began to mutter the final verse of the poem to themselves:

So when the royals are in danger,

And are not built to last,

The Saviours shall arrive,

To save our future and past.

“I have a feeling it was probably more poetic when it was conceived,” Fungus giggled.

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Tabi,” Fungus whispered.

“Yes?” she hissed back.

“Are you scared?”

She nodded.

“Terrified,” she confessed.

“Me too.”

Tabi took his hand and the two friends sat together on the stairs, dreading what the future might hold for themselves, their families and their country.

Author's Note

This is a first draft so I apologise for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors that might seem to be stupid. I have proof read several times but I may have missed some bits. Also, I couldn't think of a world for medieval-type leather shoes, hence why it says [shoes] at some point

Reviews

[Arrinae]

Its interesting so far. I'd definitely like to see where your story leads.