(1) Hope Sundered

“It’s an impossible shot.”

“I can make it.” Keila exhaled without blinking and let her arrow fly. The bolt soared through the narrow gaps of surrounding trees to find its target over a hundred paces away. The deer cried once before dropping. A quick, clean kill. Smiling, Keila turned to look up at her father.

“I stand corrected,” Losigalender said, nodding his approval; they wouldn’t go hungry this winter.

The autumn wind found its way into the Deep Wood like a curious explorer, carrying with it the loamy scent of the vast forest. Keila tucked a stubborn strand of auburn hair behind her ear while Losigalender pulled his cloak tighter around his broad shoulders. Together they hauled their score back to camp.

The windswept plateau of Haigan’s Ridge overlooked the Nahan Valley. From there Keila could see a vast lake to the south. The village of Chastin hugged its eastern shore, hidden from view beneath the interlacing trees. The ancient forest stretched eastward from the mountains, enveloping the lake on its way to the horizon.

“Hard to believe you’ll be married in just a few short months,” Losigalender remarked as they dressed the wild game. “I’ll miss our little adventures.”

Keila scoffed. “Miss them? Hardly. Lark and I’ll always include you on our outings.”

He cocked a skeptical eyebrow. “Are you sure your future husband will want that?”

“Why wouldn’t he? He adores you!”

Losigalender smirked but held his tongue. Silence joined them like a trusted companion but didn’t overstay its welcome.

“Lark’s a good man,” he said once the campfire had been started.

She looked up, searching her father’s stoic expression for answers with her pale emerald eyes. “What brought that on?”

He shrugged. “Just reflecting on your good fortune, in spite of everything. I suppose it helps you’ve been friends since you were little, but it’s not like you had a lot of options here.”

“Did you want me to find a husband in Wyndham?”

“I want you to be happy. Just because you grew up in Chastin doesn’t mean you’re bound to it. You’ve always been free to follow your heart, wherever that leads you.”

“I know, but I’m happy here, and I’m not very fond of the capital.”

He smirked. “You’ve never been to the capital.”

She waved away his observation as she would a tendril of campfire smoke drifting too close to their faces. “I’ve heard enough from the travelling merchants to get the idea. City life’s not for me.

“Besides, I’d rather see what’s on the other side of the lake. I’ve been longing to find out since I was little, but someone told me I had to wait until I was older.” She grinned at him.

“You’re so much like your mother,” he said after his chuckled melted into a sigh.

Keila rolled her eyes. “You say that all the time.”

“Because it’s true.”

“I wish I’d known her. I’ve tried, but I can’t remember anything about her. Why won’t you ever tell me how—”

“Because I don’t like to talk about it,” he answered in a gentle but firm tone, laced with a fragile pain.

“I’m sorry.” She wanted answers, but knew better than to press this particular issue. “It’s just not fair that she was taken from us.”

Losigalender inhaled sharply but let it out in a single steady stream. He nodded. “Life is almost never fair, Princess.”

She shook her head and grinned. “Are you ever going to stop calling me that? I’m not a little girl anymore.”

He smiled back. “But I’ll always be your father. Besides, I think it suits you.”

After supper, Keila curled up beside the campfire, enjoying the warmth of the flames as they crackled and danced. The evening brought with it a tranquil melody of nature’s denizens, performing their symphony of life.

Twinkling motes accented the sky like diamonds splashed across a sable canvas. Keila loved camping beneath the unobstructed view but that night she found no comfort. She attributed some of her anxiety to her upcoming nuptials, but there was something else, something she couldn’t define.

A presence nagged at the back of her mind. She attempted to push it from her thoughts, but it tugged at her like a hungry child. At last, she sat upright in her bedroll, responding to the nervous ache in the pit of her stomach.

“What is it?” her father asked from across the firepit, startled by the sudden motion. Without answering, she rose from the ground, scooping up her bow and quiver as she moved. He followed, clutching his sword.

The full moon bathed the land in a silver glow. For many minutes she stood motionless, save the slow turn of her head as she scanned her surroundings. Satisfied that there was no immediate threat, she moved on in silence, an arrow nocked and waiting to fly at the first hint of danger.

Her father was at her side now, repeating his question in a whisper almost stolen by the unrelenting wind.

“There’s something out here,” she replied, glancing about.

“It’s a little late in the season for wolves, but they wouldn’t be unheard of, especially considering our catch.”

“Not wolves,” she said. “It feels like—” she whipped her head in the direction of the plateau’s southwestern edge overlooking the valley below. With a quick look of warning to her father, she took off in a crouched sprint, her practiced footfalls masked by the mountain breeze. Once again, he pursued, his words of protest dying of futility before leaving his mouth.

She slowed her pace as she approached the edge of the steep cliff, coming to a complete stop several yards before the precipice. She finished the distance on her hands and knees, her father doing likewise. Together they lay flat on the rough stone and peered over. Even from this distance they could both see the object of her intuitive warning.

A thousand tiny flames dotted the ravine floor.

Losigalender’s mouth dropped. “It looks like an army.”

“An army? All the way out here? Why?” she asked as she studied the landscape below. “Where are they from?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” he answered, jumping to his feet and heading for their camp. “We need to get home and evacuate everyone before it’s too late.”

“Evacuate?” she pressed, easily keeping pace with him. “Are we being invaded?”

“We’re not waiting around to find out. Pack your gear and saddle your horse.”

“But who—”

“Do it now, Keila!”