Chapter 5 #2
Me? Difficult? the mare huffed. Never in my life.
Sloshing through to the other side of the stream, Leita slogged up the shore as water sluiced down her soggy body. Thalia followed begrudgingly, stopping to shake out her mane and tail in Leita’s face.
With another flick of magic, Leita expelled the excess water and gave it back to the stream, leaving her clothes fairly dry and her hair nice and fluffy.
She itched to unfurl her wings from the little protective bundle they made folded up on her back, but she suspected the dirty air would feel even worse.
They headed upstream toward the border, leaving behind footprints in the ash.
What exactly is it you’re looking for?
Anything, I suppose. A break or proof of wherever it was this person passed through.
Would that leave a sign?
Probably not, but Leita was compelled to look anyway. I just…you remember what Marcades and Charis said, about spelled items being smuggled across the border? What if it’s something to do with that?
It was one of the many problems facing her fledgling reign, and Leita herself had already faced the consequences of such spelled artefacts leaking from the faelands.
She couldn’t help shuddering to remember the spelled manacles Ravenna had used to capture her.
Without them, Leita never would’ve gone with Ravenna and her orc king to overthrow Amaranthe.
The manacles had drained Leita’s magic, rendering her not just vulnerable but almost helpless. She never wanted to feel so weak ever again, and it terrified her to know that such items were permeating the continent.
Had they been made in the faelands and distributed? By whom? The only other option would be a fae on the outside making the items, for no other race was known to wield magic like that anymore.
Whatever the reason for it, Leita doubted it was good.
The reports she’d had from her own council, as well as Ravenna and Vallek in Balmirra, indicated that many of the items, especially ones like the manacles, were accumulating in the human empire of Pyrros.
Powerful and aggressive, the emperors of Pyrros had waged war against other tribes of humans, conquering most of the southern continent.
There were indications that their attention was turning west, toward orcish territory and possibly even the faelands.
If they knew how weak the faelands was…
Leita shuddered again. She didn’t know that her reign could survive a full invasion. Not when she couldn’t count the faelands itself as an ally.
You’re thinking too much again, Thalia complained.
You could mind your own thoughts for once, Leita countered.
No good mother does. Nipping Leita’s hair, Thalia tugged on a lock with her gray lips. You’re making me worry, Lala.
Leita stopped, looking up at her mama mare.
Although the unicorn was the most ancient of the mothers she’d had, as well as the one she’d been with the longest, Thalia was often the least serious.
She always encouraged mischief and never scolded Leita for being vulgar.
She’d taught Leita to brawl and which bugs to eat and what mud patches made for the best rolling.
So when Thalia became concerned, Leita tended to listen. Even if she didn’t want to.
You haven’t called me Lala in a long time.
Haven’t I? Well, perhaps it’s because you haven’t really been a foal in a long time. But no matter how old you get, you’re still my foal—which means you should listen to me.
It was sound unicorn logic, she supposed.
Fine. We look around for a little while and then we find a place to rest. Deal?
You’ll take a long sleep? You need one—you look terrible.
Leita rolled her eyes, ignoring how they stung with tiredness.
In all honesty, a long sleep would do her good.
She’d felt the urge to rest for days now but had been fighting it.
Unlike humans, fae didn’t need to sleep every night.
Instead, they took long sleeps that could last a day or two every so often.
She didn’t relish the idea of a long sleep out here in the devastated wilderness, but she’d need to shore up her strength before shoring up the border.
Still, all she’d agree to was, Maybe.
Thalia flapped her lips in an irritated grumble. That’s not what I—what’s that?
Both turned to look down the slope of the rise they’d been climbing.
Below stretched the remains of a meadow.
It was a familiarly devastated scene, the burn scar unending and unmerciful.
Yet, what was strange, and what’d surely caught Thalia’s attention, had to be the impact crater left in its center.
She and Thalia shared a cautious thought before slowly moving down the slope to investigate. Leita picked her footfalls carefully, her breathing going deep to take in unfamiliar scents.
She couldn’t smell or sense anything past the overwhelming smoke. Still, the upturned earth and clear depression in the ground were proof that something big had landed here.
Casting her magic wide, it followed the surface of the ground to find another disruption in the dirt. Leita squatted down to inspect the strange line in the ash, leading away from the crater.
Thalia snuffled at a mound of charcoal within the crater.
Could it have been a meteor? Leita wondered. That could explain the fire.
A meteor would’ve made a more regular impact. Lifting her head, Thalia looked about the blackened trees suspiciously. This was big and came in at a shallow angle.
Dreadful curiosity prickled between Leita’s wings, and she turned to follow the line in the dirt. As she added her footsteps alongside it, staring at the uniform shape and depth of the line, she couldn’t help but think, It’s like a dragging tail.
The line led into the trees again, following the foothills for over two leagues.
Leita’s bafflement grew with each step, as did the pit of dread in her belly. She couldn’t explain the fist of anticipation clutching her; she couldn’t draw a full breath, it clenched her chest so tightly.
Her lips and fingers had nearly gone numb by the time they rounded a rockfall to find the jagged mouth of a cave.
From inside echoed the belabored breathing of something big.
It was because Leita held her breath, her body tensed, that she jumped when a little body came hurtling out of the cave. She watched in astonishment as a little marten snapped and squeaked angrily at her, telling Leita in no uncertain terms not to dare getting closer.
The marten was a brave little thing, but Leita’s need to know was greater.
Thalia dipped her horn in warning at the marten as Leita tiptoed closer. In the shade of the cave opening, her eyes began to adjust, allowing her to see further into the murky depths.
Lala, what is it—?
Azai.
Her body burst with recognition, a golden surge of warmth overcoming her. It brought her to her knees, making Thalia whinny in alarm, but Leita could barely hear over the ringing in her ears.
A shifted red dragon slept inside the cave, and it was her azai.