Memories of those shadows swirled in my head. Of a black sea, and dark clouds. No moons or stars lit the sky. The scales of a dragon glinted from an unseen light.
Why did I remember the Ceorthan Shadowlands?
The southern walls were the last place I wanted to return to, but Mare . . .
Mare was all I had, really. And I would not let her die.
Chapter 15
Mare
Ifell on my hands and knees in the mud, battered and broken. Breathing heavily, I stared at the slurry of snow and dirt.
Wet, cold, a mess. A perfect reflection of myself.
The golden rapier hovering by my face retracted. Paragon Tiernan sheathed his blade and stepped back. "You're getting better at this."
Better? Heaving in a breath, I staggered to my feet, aching limbs protesting every motion.
The Paragon looked perfect. His armor and surcoat remained pristine as ever, and his red waves fell neatly around his shoulders.
Sweat coated my brow and hair. Tufts of frizzy white stuck out from my braid from my crown to mid-back.
We'd woken at the crack of dawn and trained for two hours straight. Now we'd mount and ride until nightfall, then repeat it all tomorrow.
I'd had no time to ask my new mentor even basic questions. Either he was relentlessly trying to kill me, or I was nodding off on my elk.
"How much longer until we reach the fort?" I asked, wiping the mud from my hands. Cierthine lay a few paces away, at the base of a broad tree.
"Three days," Paragon Tiernan said. He watched me intently as I retrieved my blade and sheathed it. "We should reach a little hamlet this evening. We can rest there and finally talk.Properly."
I wanted to say 'oh good, you aren't a mute thug,' but all I managed was a weary nod.
We packed up the mounts in silence and set out. The Paragon had been masking his emotions well, but I could tell in his stiff posture and restless gaze that he was worried.
He and Killian might have been friends. Should I offer my condolences?
I would later, at the inn.
Relaxing, I watched the passing trees through half-closed lids.
Soon we'd cross into Muirashi’s southern wetlands—fields that stretched to the shores of the great lake. I'd never traveled this way before. Lifting my head, I watched the white horse trotting on the road ahead of me and tried not to fret.
These hours might be some of my last. A sea of regret churned within me, realizing how little I'd accomplished. How dissatisfied I'd feel, at the end.
With evening's arrival, the trees grew sparse. We rode into a rolling field dotted with ponds and a single babbling brook. A tiny hamlet awaited us, little more than a crossroads inn and gathering of houses.
Warm thoughts of a comfortable bed and a hot bath soothed me until we rode past the townspeople.
Most were Muirashins: dark-haired, fair-skinned with eyes in every shade of blue—brilliant like the colors of the sea.
In their vivid eyes, I found only ice. They glared openly at me—men, women, and children all.
A woman, wearing pants, dressed like a soldier, with a sword strapped at her belt.
Paragon Tiernan pulled his white horse around to trot at my side. Our steeds sloshed through the muddy crossroad, tired from ceaseless riding. He kept a rapt watch on my admirers as we tied up the mounts outside the inn and ascended the steps.
The Forlaith Empire deemed women lesser, inferior to men. But Muirashi had employed strict gender roles even before falling under the Solhearts’ control.
