Chapter 3
AURA
Toftlund City, Treland
The bustling of Toftlund City is a distant hum as Aura opens her deep blue eyes, gazing up at the uneven slats of the one-room home.
Today is the day.
The one she has been training for her entire life. No matter what her mother insists, the Princess of Treland has no other path.
Two winters ago, she almost abandoned taking the blood oath.
It’s never been her ideal course. She much preferred the quiet of nature and the comfort of her quill to the ferocity of combat.
Yet, in her heart, she is following the steps she feels are required of her as the daughter of Sigvid Thordsson, the King and Lord Commander of the Drengr Army.
Aura presses her lips to those of her bedfellow. She smirks as Isabel hardly shifts at the tender caress. Gently, she brushes the woman’s silky, raven hair over her shoulder to press a kiss on her bare skin.
“Issie.” She whispers. “I must ready myself for the final Trial.” As she stirs, stretching her arms at her side, Aura soaks up the look of her soft skin.
“That doesn’t mean you must wake me.”
Aura swats her playfully before swinging her feet over the bed to stand in Isabel’s tiny, cramped house.
She will be lucky to make it to the Drengr Stadium without one of her father’s men dragging her away. Isabel is not her parents’ favorite person, and sleeping with her will not go over well.
As she tugs on her trousers slung over the back of a chair, she can already feel the intensity of the day coursing through her veins.
Two winters ago, when Aura all but laid down her axe, Isabel Kilton—an initiated Drengr—convinced her not to walk away.
She glances at Isabel as she curls back under the blanket.
As the youngest princess, she has yet to be allowed much room to grow, creating tension between her and her father.
While she loves her Pops, she finds many of her peers shirking her out of fear of his wrath.
What she would give to have friends and someone to truly embrace her each night simply because they loved her most on the continent, rather than because of her bloodline as a Sigvidsson-Redwood.
The heir of Redwood will deliver. A child whose line shall live forever. Uniter of all, she whose blood strengthens them all.
If only her family prophecy did not haunt her as ‘the child whose line shall live forever.’ How did her parents, fuck it, the country, expect her to welcome such a fated life when her very name chases away anyone who might be willing to love her?
After too many broken hearts, she followed her brother Bjorn’s lead and now keeps emotionally distant bedfellows.
Life is simpler now because she limits the number of people she allows in.
Once she dons her leather armor, she collects her axe and shield, pausing to appreciate the moment she never thought she would see. She can already imagine her father smiling proudly through his auburn beard, the shade identical to Aura’s braid.
She much prefers to let her curls flow free like her mother’s, but her father’s tugging on her plait reminds her that she descends from a long line of Salt Warriors.
It was her sacred right to wear the braid.
“Will I see you after my trial, then?” Aura asks, her hand lingering on the door pull.
The Drengr rolls onto her side, the blanket dropping past her breasts and making Aura wish she had time to play.
“So sure of yourself?”
Aura’s smile falters. “Even if I fail, I shall still walk away with pride.”
Isabel shrugs. “What if your combat partner challenges you to a Death Match?”
Her throat constricts.
The final Drengr Trial includes single combat with an initiated warrior who has already pledged loyalty to her father.
No one has ever called for a Death Match.
“Improbable.” She answers with more confidence than she feels. She throws the door open into the summer air and glances over her shoulder to see Isabel falling back asleep.
After two winters, is that all the encouragement she can offer?
Even a hug would have fucking sufficed.
Aura secures her shield to her back and slides the axe into her belt loop as she begins the long march north from the city to the Drengr Stadium, her father constructed about ten winters ago.
The Princess's excitement fades, leaving only heavy uncertainty to hang over her like a storm cloud.
She is not the only recruit to undergo a trial today. However, as the daughter of the Lord Commander, she anticipates that she will be the most watched.
A prospect that twists her stomach as if someone were squeezing it.
As she strides down one of the cobblestone streets in Toftlund, she becomes uncomfortably aware that someone is watching her movements. Her hand slowly hovers over her axe handle as her peripheral vision checks for activity.
She is about to whip out her weapon when tiny arms wrap around her middle.
“Aura!” A high-pitched voice halts her steps. “You promised to stop by the house before your final Trial.”
Aura’s shoulders slump at the sight of a small child wearing a dagger at their waist. “Forgive me, Eivor, my mind is elsewhere.”
The child grins, showing several gaps in her teeth. “Well, best get your mind on your Trial! You need to become the Lady Commander when I take mine.”
She smiles, glancing at the dagger she had taught Eivor to craft last winter. The orphan girl lives alone with her older brother, Serk. She has instructed them both in combat in exchange for the most delectable Salt recipes she has ever tasted.
“Why is that?”
Eivor rolls her eyes. “So you can put the medallion on me, silly. Oh! That reminds me.” Her tongue pokes out of the corner of their mouth as she digs through her baggy pants.
“Happy Trial!” She extends a tiny fist toward Aura, who responds with an outstretched palm to reveal a braided rope bracelet.
The colors are a light shade of blue, much like ice, while the other is somehow the exact color of a flickering fire.
“Did you make this?” Aura slides it onto her wrist, a tad taken aback at the perfect fit.
Eivor nods. “You always have the worst luck, Aura. I had a Gothi bless it with good luck! You need it.”
When did the Gothi bless anything?
Aura swallows hard at the gesture and wraps the child in an embrace. “Thank you.”
“Promise you will find me afterward!”
“Promise.”
“Wait!” Eivor holds out her pinky. “Pinky promise.”
Aura kneels and wraps her pinky around Eivor’s tiny finger. “You got it.”
After shooing the young girl, she holds her breath as she strides to the stadium. Suddenly, she is overly conscious of the looming darkness rolling off the South Sea.
It will be a wet Trial.
She shakes her head with a chuckle once she reaches the towering oval stadium crafted of white marble. Her father modeled the design after the very shithole he found himself in after his war with Mum ended.
She likes to think he enjoyed his time inside far more than he lets on.
The original tale of the Drengr states that while Toftlund expanded under her Grandfather, Thord, to become a trading port, the ever-flowing traffic from the sea brought more crime to an already run-down city.
Her father’s newly formed Drengr muscled its way into enforcement for the traveling merchants and poor city folk.
After the country's unification, the Drengr Army exploded to replace the country's central military, and those who could not pass the trials transitioned to the guards for each province.
In the distance, she can hear the roar of the crowd as another warrior takes their trial.
According to her brother, Bjorn, people traveled across Treland to witness the Princess become a Drengr.
A feat that would ensure all three of the Lord Commander’s children and his wife, the Queen, could claim such prestige.
She descends the ramp under the field to an underground expanse of ready rooms where she can focus on her headspace.
“Mum!” She squeals with joy.
Family and friends are welcome to visit recruits before their Trials, but her family has offered her space during the last two.
Today, she finds her mother reclining in one of the seats, her long golden curls in several braids.
She wears a lovely blue dress with Salt knots matching the intricate tattoos snaking up her arms.
Avina’s smile widens as she stands to embrace her. “I am so proud of you, Aurie. Your final Drengr Trial. I had no doubt your determination would lead you here.”
She relaxes, laying her head on the shoulder of perhaps her favorite person on the Endless Shore. “Thanks, Mum.”
However, Avina’s smile does not reach her eyes, and suddenly, Aura’s stomach clenches.
“This journey has been difficult. More than anyone, I know this is not where your strength lies.” She slides Aura’s braid between her thumb and forefinger. “Please understand that you can choose not to finish the Trials. No one will think less of you. My love for you is unconditional.”
Aura nods, her gaze fixed on the ground. This is not the first time her mother has expressed such a sentiment.
What she would not give to walk away. To purchase new drawing books and spend the rest of her life chasing mink families through the Blackwood Forest.
Alas, she is Sigvid's daughter.
There is only one path forward.
“I know, Momma.” She squeezes her mother’s hands with a faint smile. “My life was set when you chose to be with Papa.”
Avina envelopes her in an embrace that squeezes the air from her lungs. “Your father loves you, Aura. As a warrior or an artist. You are not beholden simply because he is Lord Commander.”
“Bjorn and Thora…”
Avina pulls away to cup her face. “If you wish to complete the Trials, I support you. But do so as Aura, not as your siblings or your father.” A sad understanding twinkles in her mother’s blue gaze, identical to Aura’s. With a kiss on her forehead, her Mum steps away.
“I hope this is for you and not that woman you are bedding.”
Aura groans. “Isabel has been supportive-”