GALEN
The sun had long risen and I was in the middle of my cooldown when I scented, then glimpsed the little one. She watched attentively.
I gripped the wooden spear in my hands and stretched both arms up while extending my left leg.
Then I caught sight of her as she grabbed a long twig from beneath the tree she was leaning against and moved closer to me.
She mirrored my moves, or at least tried to.
I squatted, she squatted. I stretched my legs, she stretched her legs.
I lifted my arms, she lifted her arms. We ended the cooldown in a warrior pose.
“That’s it?” she asked, disappointed that the session was over.
“That’s it? I’ve been out here since dawn.”
The following morning she was there, waiting for me, at dawn.
Again, she mirrored my moves. I let her.
And when the manoeuvre was not yet possible for her to perform, she would invent something herself, a simpler version of my complex one.
It was instinctive to correct her posture, to tell her when she should inhale and exhale.
I admit, I was starting to find her presence quite tolerable. All right, not just tolerable; it was rather nice. Although she did make me swear at times. Especially that time when I found her rummaging through my bag for weapons, a dagger already in her left hand. Her mother would kill me.
“Doing stuff like that will make your mother worry,” I had told her.
“My mother always worries,” she had said. “I see it, in her eyes.” Her reply stunned me.
“Then all the more reason to behave better,” I bit out.
I feared I might have been a bit too harsh on her, but then she said, “Well, I won’t tell mother that you swore in front of me, so I trust this will remain between us. She won’t have to worry that way.”
I couldn’t believe I had thought I would hate this kid—being the product of another man. But how could I hate her when her face reminded me of her mother and her wits mirrored Aegir’s? And was she truly eight years old?
Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and months turned into a little less than two years. By then, we had already moved on to self-defence and archery. I admit, that little one had a sharp eye; she rarely missed her targets, and only ones that moved.
I clenched the Vanguard’s ledger in my hand, making hurried strides towards the cliff. She was leaning against her favourite tree, waiting for me.
“You! Come here,” I bellowed, splaying open the ledger. She lowered her head and took small steps towards me, like a guilty dog knowing that a punishment was coming for them. “What’s this?” I moved the ledger closer to her face and pointed at her name.
“I’m ready,” she said. “I’m ready to join your men. I can shoot and fight, you know I can. I hit the targets even from a moving horse. That’s even better than some of the other men. I’m ready.”
“So you decided to write down your own name on an official document, which your mother has to read and sign, by the way.”
Her eyes welled up and she fought her quivering lips. “Mother will never let me join the Vanguard.” Then she looked at me with pleading eyes and said, “But I’m ready.”
“You’re right. Your mother will never allow it. Do you know what this means?”
“Of course I do! I’m not stupid!” she snapped. “It means that I will never, ever be able to join the Vanguard.”
I held her shoulders and lowered myself to level our gazes.
“No, little one. It means that—”
“Stop calling me little! I’m not little anymore! I will be ten tomorrow.”
“Let me finish,” I bit, then lowered my voice. “It means that we have to find you an alias.”
“An alias? What’s that?” she asked, struggling with the pronunciation.
“An alias is a false name that you give yourself to hide your true identity.”
Her face swelled with hope, “Yes! An ay-lee-us. Does that mean I could—”
I nodded.
She gave me the tightest hug, which had me wrapping my arm around her back. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I won’t let you down, I promise.”
“So what are you going to name yourself, not-so-little one?”
She eyed me. “Well, I always wished my parents had named me Cordelia Elara and not the other way round. Do you think it would be too risky, to choose Cordelia? Do you think mother would know?”
“I think the name might remind her of you, but I don’t think she would know.”
“All right, so it’s Cordelia something.”
“I think you could do better than Something,” I cooed. The terrifying eye roll she gave me again made me think, poor future husband. “Did you know that Cordelia means both daughter of the sea and heart?”
“It means heart, too?” she asked. “You’re thinking of Cordelia Heart?”
“Mmm, not quite. How about Cordelia…Kindheart?”
She looked at me as if I had just offended her and quickly replied, “Kindheart? I’m planning on shooting arrows at our enemy, Captain Galen, not tucking them in bed.”
I barked out the biggest laugh before putting on my I’m-thinking-long-and hard face.
“Then how about…Cordelia Wildheart?”
She grinned at that. “Yes! That’s my ay-lee-us—I’m Cordelia Wildheart. It’s a true warrior’s name.”
“Come, let’s sit.”
I opened the ledger. Her grin intensified and she leaned over my shoulder. She watched me cross out the name Elara Briartide and beneath it write Cordelia Wildheart.
“Wait outside,” I ordered. Then I exited the small cabin with my hands hidden behind my back.
“I know your birthday’s tomorrow, Cordelia Wildheart,” I said, extending my arm towards her. “But happy birthday.”
She took it from my hand and assessed it with focused eyes.
“Whoa. It’s the most beautiful arrow I have ever seen in my entire life.”
“Do you know what’s special about this one?” She shook her head. “Red, for blood, silver, for the moon, blue, for the ocean. We call it the cry-for-war. We aim it at the ground before our enemy, and we roar at the sky above us, We’re Ice, children of Boreas the tempest, and we come for bloodshed.”
“We’re Ice, children of Boreas the tempest, and we come for bloodshed,” she slowly repeated as if trying to memorise the words.
“Now, what I’ve just shared with you is top-secret Vanguard information, so you’d better not tell anyone about this.”
“I won’t,” she promised.
I was heading to my room when I was forced off course, pulled and dragged by the smell of her scent, like pollen does to a wandering bee.
The dining hall was absurdly decorated with a variety of plate-sized flowers, to-scale stuffed creatures, candelabras, drapes, and other things I couldn’t quite name.
An eight-tier cake that almost had me gaping occupied one corner of the room.
Then my eyes widened as I beheld an aquarium—or rather a series of aquariums—lining the whole length of the eastern wall.
Each compartment, I noticed, held some sort of rare underwater species—sea dragons of various colours, jellyfish, eels, stingrays, purple-ringed octopuses, lionfish, angler fish, and anything that fell within the category of adorable-but-deadly. She must have caught them for her.
What I was witnessing and her overwhelming scent, told me that she was trying too hard. And her intentions, I could tell, sprouted from roots made of fear and desperation—she wanted to give her as much as she could, for she knew the clock was ticking.
I had trailed the whole length of the aquarium, and she didn’t even notice my presence.
I cut the silence. “My Queen, you’re still awake.”
She jerked, then quickly wiped her face. The gesture made it seem like she tried to rub away the look of concern and transform it into one that says, I’m fine.
As if I couldn’t fucking sense it.
“Yes, I was making sure everything was perfect for tomorrow.” I hated how long she took to meet my gaze.
“Will you tell me what’s wrong?”
She dodged my question by saying, “I heard my daughter say and I quote, ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ when she couldn’t get her hair braids right this morning. You’re going to have to stop swearing in front of her if you want me to keep letting this warrior training thing go on.”
Shit. I told her not to repeat any of the bad words, especially in front of her mother.
I also tried to dodge that one. “We’ve actually moved on to self-defence and archery.”
“Oh, have you now?”
I moved closer, propped myself on the tabletop, filling the space where her chair would have been if it had remained tucked under the table.
“Oh, and as of today, your daughter is officially listed as a member of the Water Vanguard.” Her chuckle brought joy to my heart, so I continued. “We actually came up with an alias, to trick you into signing the ledger.” Then she laughed, eyes glassy. “Cordelia Wildheart,” I emphasised.
“I feel like you two are always scheming behind my back.”
I smiled at that. “Nah, not always. You’ll keep our little secret, right?”
“Cordelia Wildheart. I quite like that.” She smiled. “And you know that I will keep your little secret, otherwise you wouldn’t have told me. Thank you, though, for telling me.”
My own smile faltered. “I worry about you.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
“How could I not?” I almost pleaded. “You’re constantly worrying, it’s—it’s eating you alive.”
“Well, how could I not? Tomorrow’s her tenth birthday, Galen.
Ayla told me that Elara seemed three or so years older in her vision.
And that was three years ago. I’m so afraid.
I always try not to show her this fear I’m always carrying.
I smile at her—like a hypocrite—as if nothing bad will ever happen to her, and yet I know that there is no future for us, no future for her.
Sometimes I think she knows it, too. She’s too smart for her own good. When the time comes—”
I had already been on my knees the moment the words I’m so afraid came out of her mouth. I couldn’t sink any lower. “When the time comes, my Queen, I will protect you until I run out of blood and breath.”
Her brow knitted in disappointment and anger.
“I don’t care if I live—hell, I’ve lived far longer than any human ever did, and I have not aged beyond a quarter of a century.
My last remaining brother will age and die just as my other dear brothers did, my husband will wither into dust, too. All I want is reassurance for—”
“Elara.”
“Yes. That’s my only wish.”
“Then I promise you that no harm will come to your daughter. I will not allow it. I promise,” I repeated.
She sobbed at my last word, covering her face. I lifted my arms and gently grabbed her wrists, pulling her own away from her eyes. Our hands rested on her knees and she looked away, her chin grazing her shoulder.
“Look at me,” I whispered.
How was this possible? One small look that was so knee-bringing, it shattered me as I fell.
“I promise you that your daughter will live. Believe it, Mirana. What I promise you is your reassurance. I swear it to Boreas, to Sylva, and to you, my Queen.”
Her eyes grew sharp, her trembling lips pressed tightly, and she pinned me with her watery stare.
I hadn’t realised that I was rubbing the back of her hand until she acknowledged our locked palms. I stilled, and not just my hands—the whole of me froze.
But her gaze turned so piercing, it gave me doubts about whether she wanted me to stop.
So I continued. And then I got greedy. I—I lifted both of my hands and cupped her teary face.
“I promise,” I whispered again.
She covered my hand with one of hers and pressed her warm cheek against my palm, as if my promise had awoken the need of embrace and warmth and touch. Reassurance.
Then I became greedier and took her in my arms. I held her tight, one arm at her back, the other at her nape, allowing her to nuzzle her face between my neck and shoulder. My next breath came slow and long—I clung to it for as long as possible.
“How can you possibly promise me that?” she whispered, close to my ear. Her warm breath caressed my neck. “A witch’s vision is always set in stone. I am to be beheaded alongside my daughter, who is to suffer the same fate.”
I only let go of her to cup her face once more. I looked into those big, beautiful blue eyes of hers, then rose to my feet, taking a couple of steps back.
She gasped softly as I shifted into my wolf form.
I restrained my swelling howl as she reached her arm and passed her finger through my thick fur, neck to side.
I huffed to make sure she had my full attention, and she smiled at me.
Then the chair she was sitting on screeched against the wooden floor and she all but stumbled back with widened eyes. Her trembling hands went to her mouth.
“It’s—it’s uncanny. How?” she whispered, taking a small, careful step towards me, brows furrowed. “You’re…you’re a shifter. A full shifter.”
She blinked as I morphed back into my true form. “So was my grandfather. He was hunted down when my grandmother was pregnant with my mother. He sacrificed himself for them.”
“I’m sorry.”
I took one step towards her and felt relief at the fact that she didn’t counter it. My hands carefully found hers and I repeated, “I promise you.”
She blinked, her face flashing between disbelief and the bittersweet realisation at what this meant.
“I can never repay you for this. We have no time,” she whispered.
My heart ached but I held my composure. “Well, actually, there is one thing you could do for me.”
I reached into my bag and took out the ledger, then sprawled it open on the table. She lifted it closer to her face as if to get a better view of the crossed-out name and the alias beneath it.
“See, even now you are scheming,” she said, pressing her lips together. She didn’t have to draw out any tears, her face was still wet. She used those same tears to sign the ledger, welcoming our youngest member.
When she looked my way, her gaze harshened. “Galen, I know that what you are offering comes from your heart and not because of the oath. I…I can free you from the bond. Free you from me.”
It took a while for me to answer, but it was the truth that I murmured to her. “I never want to be free of you.”
She handed me the ledger, an excuse to sever our shared gaze. “Tell Elara—I mean, tell Cordelia, that the Queen of Ilma welcomes her.”
“I’ll tell her tomorrow night, after she blows out her one hundred thousand candles.” Mirana’s sheepish smile came with pressed lips.
Her birthday candles didn’t get to be blown out—they burned along with the cake and everything else around it.
And that night, as I walked us to our foreseen demise, I was unsure if my act was selfless or selfish, as I neared death with a speck of hope in my heart. I will find her. Because in the next life, I would make sure to find her before any other man could.
In the next life, she will be mine.