It was back. The dream. The same horrible one she’d had her whole life. It was inescapable. Every time she slept, she dreamt, and every time she dreamt, it was this same dream. Keira stood on a rocky cliff, looking down at a straight drop to an ocean whose wild waves mirrored the turmoil in her soul. The waves roared and crashed against the cliff, eroding the ground so much that she feared the cliff would shatter and she would plummet to her doom. But before that could happen, three figures arose from the mist that was thrown up by the crashing waves: her mother, grandmother, and great grandmother.

The three matriarchs of Keira’s family line floated above the ocean, staring directly at her. The sharp wind blew strands of hair into her face, and caused their cloaks to billow behind them. Their faces were masks of stone, unreachable by human emotions. Her mother reached out her hand, beckoning her daughter to come to her; to follow her. But Keira refused as she’d always done. She was scared, and she knew in her heart that she would always be. If she stepped off the cliff, and her family turned out to only be illusions cast by sirens to lure her away from the relative safety of solid ground, she’d fall to a watery grave. She was too scared to risk her life, and far too scared to trust her mother with it. Keira could sense that the three figures were disappointed at her reluctance to join them, but it was more of a surreal emotion, like a ghost was entertaining a thought. The three matriarchs grimly opened their mouths, and even though the words they spoke were in ancient elvish, she somehow understood them. They said:

A promise unfulfilled by generations past chases you. The chosen families fight, but will never escape. Pave your destiny carefully, Child of Prophecy. Your family's past will affect your future and that future will affect your life. Beware.

She stared at them, her mind reeling with rehearsed shock even though she'd heard this prophecy many times. Falling to her knees, she begged, “What does this mean?”

They did not answer, instead flying away and leaving her alone, stranded on the cliffside. She screamed and shouted for them to come back, but they would not. She knew in her heart the reason why: those of stone could not feel pity for those of flesh, and those of no feeling could feel nothing for those who suffer the woes of emotion.

The wind whipped around her, faster and faster as it pushed her closer and closer to the edge. She fought against it with all her strength, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. The strength of mortals could never succeed against the strength of nature. Keira fell over the side of the cliff, plummeting towards the ocean until she hit the water with a loud splash, and sank to the bottom of the sea as if lead weights were tied to her feet. Monsters of the deep floated around her, taunting her.

A mermaid with brilliant green hair and purple eyes swam over, an air of concern surrounding her. “Keira?”

Keira couldn’t respond, the water flowed too quickly into her mouth. She couldn’t breathe, and still the creature called to her.

“Keira?”

Water in her lungs, she thrashed about, trying to swim to the surface and escape.

“Keira, are you listening?”

The world was going dark, she was dying, and there was nothing she could do to escape. She should just surrender to death, there was nothing more she could do, everything else was out of her power.

“Keira, I must tell you something-”

Keira wrenched her eyes open and abruptly sat up in bed, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. She heaved a sigh of relief. For tonight, she had once more escaped the worst part of the dream. The dreadful thought of dying, and being forced to relive death night after night, had always been the worst part. She glanced at the clock by her bed and groaned. 4 a.m., of course. At least, rising this early, she wouldn’t be late to the council meeting today. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and began getting ready for another day of leading her kingdom.

***

“Hold your blade up!” Her sparring sword crashed into the newest exile she’d allowed to take the test.

He winced, glared at her, and defiantly reset his stance. “Again!”

Keira cocked her head to the side, and brushed her fingers lightly against her hood to reassure herself that it hadn't fallen off during the fight. She slid the sword into its scabbard and stared placidly at him. “What is your name?”

She’d heard about this exile from her right-hand man. Apparently he had refused to give any details about himself. Not his age, name, family, or what he was exiled for. An admirable sentiment, but she needed to make sure the people she let into her kingdom wouldn’t tear it down, so she agreed to do this sparring practice with him, in the hopes that a battle would loosen his tongue.

“Who I am has nothing to do with my fighting abilities.”

“True, but if you persist in not sharing any information with me, I will stop going easy on you, and then you,” Keira said, flicking her blade towards his chest, “will be dead. I can’t afford to let someone live in the outside world who could possibly tell any stories about this kingdom. There are already enough tales about me and Elvanora. I’ve had to hunt down and eliminate so many people.” She sighed and gave him a glare a dragon would have been proud of. “I haven’t survived this many years of exile by being stupid.”

He scowled at her, his dark hair getting in his face as his blue eyes smoldered with anger. “If you stop going easy on me, I will be forced to stop going easy on you, and I think you’ll find yourself hard-pressed to beat me in a true fight.”

Keira rolled her eyes. She had just beaten him three times in a row, and that was while holding back. There was no way he could possibly beat her, but toying with him some more would do no harm. A smirk spread over her face. “All right, I will fight you again. If I win, you will tell me what I want to know, no matter what I ask. If you win, I’ll let you in my kingdom, no questions asked. Do we have a deal?”

He looked skeptically at her, as if gauging how long it would take him to win, and how much dignity it would cost him if he lost. “Deal. Just give me three seconds to prepare.” He marched over to where he had dropped his cloak when he had removed it for battle, and pulled an elaborately crafted sword out of its folds. He reset his fighting stance, his posture brimming with confidence.

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She cocked an eyebrow. There were not many exiles who were able to keep their saber after being exiled, especially when they were as elaborate as his. “So we fight with real swords instead of these sparring ones?” This man’s confidence was quite amusing. Did he really think he could stand a chance against her?

“Yes, is that a deal breaker for you?” he shot back sarcastically.

“Let's begin.”

Keira held her sparring saber at the ready. She didn’t need the advantage of a real sword to win this, and this would only cement in the new exile's mind that she was truly a tough opponent. She funneled magic through the boring metal of the blade, and it began glowing an inky black. Each of the colors on a fighter’s blade meant something about the user, a blood red glow for the shackiye, and a deep emerald green glow for the fiywren. However, her blade color was something of an anomaly.

Usually rogue followers went to the other side, and if someone happened to be exiled from both factions as she had been, they would be hunted down and killed. The shackiye and fiywren agreed on only one thing: unaffiliated magic wielders were dangerous. The only reason she had escaped death by the two groups' hands was because she went into hiding in her kingdom. But, bounty hunters still searched for her, which was the whole point of interviewing new exiles to make sure they weren’t spies.

The new exile channeled his magic into his saber, and its blade gained a blood red shine. A wide grin found its way to Keira’s face. This was going to be an enjoyable match. She could already taste the sweet tang of victory.

He charged towards her, his sword raised and a battle-cry on his lips. Instead of slipping away from his attack, she met it straight on, bringing her sword up to intercept his swing. His strength was considerably greater than she had assumed, and she was forced to take a step back. He viciously launched into more attacks, and it soon became clear to her that he was very adept with his blade. He swung his blade and she dodged it. She thrust at his head, and he smoothly ducked to the side, coming up with a counter strike from the right that she was forced to jump over. The clash continued like this for twenty minutes of fierce fighting, but the inevitable outcome was just as she had predicted.

Keira’s saber was at the exile’s neck, and he was on his back panting heavily, again. Slowly, her saber’s glow diminished as she withdrew her magic, and watched smugly as he shamefacedly got to his feet, rejecting the hand she had extended somewhat mockingly to help him up. She smoothly moved her hands to her hips and smirked at him. “Looks like I won.”

“Looks like it.” He brushed the dust off his clothes, his voice indifferent. Almost as if he believed he had won, and she had lost.

She huffed. “So are you ready to tell me who you are?”

He looked at her like she was crazy, and Keira realized this man didn’t intend to keep his promise. But then again, she hadn’t intended to keep her promise either. In a smooth motion she flooded her saber with magic and slid it up to his neck, the inky glow casting menacing shadows onto him. “If you don’t intend to tell me what I need to know, I suppose I don’t need you anymore.”

“You’re not going to kill me.” His voice was cocky, but she could hear the faint tremor of fear.

“Oh, yes, I would. I always love the opportunity to put my blade to use again. After all,” she quoted, “‘one’s sword is a weapon of death.’ What is the point of wielding a weapon of death, and not using it for the purpose it was intended?”

He glared at her, and she calmly pressed her saber into his skin. He swallowed nervously, which only caused the cut to get even bigger. He put his hands up in defeat, his voice like that of an annoyed teenager. “Fine, I’ll tell you. Just move your blade.”

“Good. Tell me your name.”

“Xavier.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Atharia.”

Atharians. The very word left a bitter taste in her mouth. The fire-wielding race had always been the worst of enemies with the elves, and there were plenty of elves in her kingdom. Not to mention the fact that if he discovered that she was one of those elves, Keria would have a massive problem on her hands. “Were you shackiye or fiywren?”

“A shackiye,” he rolled his eyes, and huffed, “is this interrogation over yet?”

“Do you want your life to be over?”

“Not desperately.”

“Then no, you’re not done yet.”

Xavier sighed. “What else do you want to know? I’m twenty-one, I know my country is hated, my family is dead, and I’m an outcast now. What more could you possibly want to know?”

“How did you find me?” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“Easy. I followed some of your residents to the gates, then I just entered with them like I was a part of their group.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It wasn’t that hard.”

Keira gaped at him. The only people who were allowed to freely leave the kingdom were extremely skilled at avoiding detection. How did this man manage to do what experienced trackers with trained dogs couldn’t? Keira supposed it was possible that he could be an expert. After all, she was also only twenty-one. But, she’d been twenty-one for a few hundred years, thanks to her elvish powers of practically eternal youth, and those years had given her plenty of experience and practice with her magic. She doubted he had that kind of legacy. After all, he was still human, despite his Atharian powers.

“I would think a man who can get into Elvanora undetected would be able to beat me in battle. Apparently, I was mistaken.”

Xavier glowered. “And I would think a woman of your battle prowess would know better than to rub in their victory, but clearly I am also mistaken.”

Keira raised an eyebrow. “You’re a very sore loser. I was simply trying to figure out how you made it through all of our defenses, and yet were beaten so easily by me.” A thought suddenly struck her, and filled with the terror of it, she grabbed Xavier’s shirt, yanking him close to her. “Do you have an inside man? Are you using a spy?”

Xavier pulled away, and looked indignantly at her. “Maybe,” he huffed irritably, “not all of your guardsmen are competent. Maybe some could be bribed, or easily beaten in battle. Not that I needed to bribe or fight them, all I had to do was slip past them while they were on lunch break.”

Although it killed her to admit it, she begrudgingly acknowledged that he had a point. The guards she had chosen for lack of better options were incompetent at best, and helpless at worst. A dragon could tromp through the gates and the guardsmen would swear nothing had gotten through on their watch.

She had previously relied on her scouts’ skills of evasion to not lead anyone to her kingdom, and to warn a raiding party if someone got too close. However, it now seemed that she needed to reevaluate just how much trust she put in her men. But until then, she had business to take care of.

She turned abruptly to Xavier. “You can come into my illustrious kingdom of Elvanora only if you help me improve my security. I can’t have more disgusting ruffians like you sneaking in.”

He looked insulted, but it quickly turned to a mask of aloofness. “Of course I will help you reform your pathetic force of guards into something your defenseless kingdom can be proud of. After all,” he added with a smirk, “you clearly need all the help you can get.”

A spike of prideful resentment shot up her spine, and the most she could do to get it under control is shoot Xavier a steely glare. He mockingly put his hands up in surrender, his smirk turning into a mischievous grin.

Despite herself, Keira felt a minuscule smile pull at the edges of her lips. Qualified guards could be a huge benefit to her. Then again, it was Xavier who was training the guards, and who knows what he would teach them. There was a strange feeling in her stomach about Xavier. She just had to hope that this wouldn’t end poorly. Giving him a wary glance, Keira gestured for him to follow her. “Come on. I will show you around the kingdom.”

Only time would tell how this ended. If there is one thing she hated more than traitors and hypocrites, it was waiting to see if someone would end up being one of those two things.