The next morning she met up with Talon at the clearing that had become their training grounds. Talon was as usual dressed in his fighting leathers but today he was heavily armed. Aerin looked him over, his broad shoulders and a bow strapped to his back. His otherwise tousled hair was slicked back and a small strand of blond hair hung over his forehead. He invited Aerin to join him on a high-stakes mission, believing it would be a test of her true capabilities. “We need to go now, the trip there will take about seven hours if we walk fast and only take small breaks for food and rest.”
Talon looked north and Aerin followed his eyes. “We are not dressed for that kind of travel,” Aerin said wearily. Where they're going it would not be pleasant in leather.
Talon let out a quiet laugh as he read her mind “I’ve packed some wool cloaks, more than that we can’t carry.”
This was her first real mission, a chance to prove herself not just to Talon but to herself. Bramhall lay ahead, a formidable village nestled at the foot of the northern mountains. Tales of its impregnable fortresses and the fierce warriors who guarded them had reached even the most remote corners of Yaveria.
The weather in Yaveria was warm and sunny in comparison to what would lay ahead of them. The path from Yaveria to Bramhall was crossed with a large river, the bridge stretched so far that you couldn’t see the other side. By the time you crossed the weather would have completely changed, the warm breeze and the sunlight was a memory of the past. Ahead there were dark clouds, snow and cold brutal air.
On the other side of the bridge the cold was relentless, biting through her cloak and nipping at her fingers. The landscape around them was a harsh, unforgiving beauty—snow-capped peaks rising like silent guards, their slopes blanketed in white, the air crisp and clean but thin, making every breath a conscious effort. Her legs throbbed as they started to ascend the mountain, Bramhall would lay in the middle of the mountain, looking over at the river and Yaveria. The mountains stood like silent wardens, their snow-capped peaks piercing the clouded sky. Jagged and majestic, they were cloaked in a patchwork of emerald forests and rocky cliffs. The air was crisp and clean, each breath a cool reminder of the elevation. Far below, valleys spread out like verdant carpets, dotted with wildflowers and crossed by a large wandering river that glinted like a silver thread in the frail light. Eagles soared above, their cries echoing against the granite cliffs, while the wind whispered ancient secrets through the pine trees.
They climbed and climbed and as her legs throbbed with pain she looked over at Talon. He hadn’t told her anything about this mission, he had said it was a test. But it was a real mission and it would be helpful to know what they were about to face. For five more hours they would traverse this wintry wilderness, each step bringing them closer to their destination and to whatever awaited them in Bramhall. Aerin glanced at Talon, his expression unreadable beneath his hood, but his eyes gleamed with a mix of determination and a hint of something else—pride, perhaps, or a challenge issued in the form of silent encouragement.
“Where exactly are we going?” Aerin finally asked under her white foggy breath.
Talon stopped and put his bag down, he dug out a small brown package of bread and handed it over to Aerin. It was as cold as the snow on the ground. His eyes were fixated on the mountain, his breath was uneven as the first hints of twilight began to paint the sky in shades of purple and blue. Talon finally broke the silence. “Aerin, it’s time you knew what we’re walking into.” He paused, letting his words hang in the cold air for a moment. “Bramhall has been under siege by an unknown force. Reports are sparse, but it’s clear that the attackers are both cunning and brutal. This is no ordinary raid—it’s something far more dangerous.”
Aerin felt a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “Why haven’t you told me this before?”
“Because,” Talon replied, his voice grave, “I needed to be sure you were ready. There’s a high chance we’ll face violent encounters. We don’t know who or what is behind these attacks, only that they’re highly skilled and well-coordinated.”
She nodded, her mind racing. The thought of combat didn’t frighten her, but the unknown element, the unpredictability of their mission, sent adrenaline coursing through her veins. Did they have magic? Her magic was uneven, unclear and not at all as developed as it should be. She never got any magical training as a child, her mother said it would be for her best. and to only focus on her studies. But this was what she had trained for—the reality of it was stark and daunting.
“We may not know exactly what awaits us,” Talon continued, his eyes locking onto hers, his eyes were dark, “but we do know that Bramhall is crucial. If it falls, the entire northern border of Yaveria is at risk. Our mission is to assist the defenders, identify the attackers, and if possible, eliminate the threat.”
“Eliminate?” she asked bluntly and with more fear than she anticipated. Eliminate. She had never killed anyone. All her daggers and swords were just to scare some drunk men or thiefs. She had only held a dagger before. At her family's home, hidden. She never intended to use any of them. The thought of having to kill anyone made her stomach turn and she suddenly felt the hunger disappear.
Aerin's heart pounded in her chest as she walked beside Talon, the gravity of his words sinking in. She had never intended to hurt anyone, let alone kill. The thought of bloodshed made her stomach churn, her hands trembling despite the cold. Her mind raced with doubt and fear—what if she wasn't strong enough, what if she failed not just herself but the entire mission?
The snow crunched under their boots, each step echoing louder in her mind than it should. The wind howled around them, a mournful song that seemed to mirror her internal turmoil. Snow blanketed the ground in an unaltered layer of white. Trees stood cloaked in frost, their branches sparkling like they were dusted with diamonds. The air was crisp and biting, every exhale a puff of mist that quickly disappeared. Icicles hung from eaves and branches, catching the light and refracting it into tiny rainbows. Silence dominated, the usual sounds of the forest muffled by the thick blanket of snow, creating a wary, almost horrifying atmosphere.
Talon was the first to break the silence, “You’re walking like an ox in snow, you know.”
Aerin glared at him, “I didn’t realize we were aiming for elegance in the middle of a blizzard.”
“Elegance or not, someone’s going to hear you coming from miles away.” Talon laughed, glad to lighten the tension.
Aerin raised her eyebrow and growled, “Says the man who tripped over a rock five minutes ago.”
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A smirk fell over Talon’s face. “That rock was a traitor.”
They continued their trek, the silence of the snow-covered mountains engulfing them again, save for the muffled crunch of their boots. The fog was thickening, curling between the jagged peaks, swallowing the landscape until even Talon’s figure ahead of her was a mere shadow.
“We should be near Bramhall by now,” Talon’s voice had begun to turn raw from the cold.
“Or are we lost in this gods-forsaken fog?”, Aerin scoffed, white smoke coming out of her mouth.
Aerin's thoughts spiraled, imagining the worst-case scenarios. She saw herself standing before a faceless enemy, her sword heavy in her hand, unable to strike the fatal blow. Her mind drifted off to the men, creatures, in her dream the night before. Their glowing eyes and fast and unanticipated moves.
But then, in the depths of her anxiety, a flicker of warmth stirred within her—a latent power she had never fully understood. Her and Mara had tried to bring it out countless times before but only small flickers of it showed. She had always sensed the magic, a gentle current beneath her skin, but it had never surfaced. What if, in the heat of battle, it emerged unexpectedly? Could it save them? Or would it be a danger in itself, wild and uncontrollable?
Talon's voice broke through her reverie, steady and calm. "Aerin, fear is natural. It's what you do with it that matters." His eyes bore into hers. "Remember your training. Trust in your abilities.” His voice was hoarse from the cold. Talon suddenly walked slower and with more intent. He hushed at Aerin as she startled to walk close up behind him.
Suddenly, the air shifted—a stillness that wasn’t just the fog settling around them. Aerin’s hand instinctively flew to the hilt of her blade, her eyes scanning the mist. She felt it before she saw it: the quiet that was too quiet - The only sound they could hear was from the air blasting over the mountaintops. “Something’s wrong,” Aerin whispered. Talon only nodded as an answer. As they closed up to the border of Bramhall’s first training camp, Talon stopped confused and concerned and as he looked back at Aerin they were ambushed by a group of well-armed assailants.
Eight shadowy figures emerged from the trees, their cloaks dark as night with intricate gold embroidery glinting in the waning light. Their faces were hidden beneath deep hoods, and without a word, they attacked. The fog thickened, making it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. Snow crunched beneath heavy boots as shadows moved—indistinct, fast, like ghosts in the mist. The cold bit at Aerin’s skin, the kind of chill that gnawed into her bones, slowing her movements, but she didn’t falter.
Chaos erupted. Talon’s sword was a blur of silver, cutting through the air with deadly precision. He turned and wheeled and swung in every direction possible. Aerin’s heart hammered in her chest as she unsheathed her own blade, her hands trembling. She had trained for this, but nothing could have prepared her for the visceral reality of combat. The clang of steel rang out, sharp and jarring against the stillness of the snow-covered forest. Her ears rang as she tried to decipher her target before her. The dark hooded man towered over her, at least four inches taller and he lunged for her. Aerin’s movements were clumsy at first, driven by pure instinct and the desperate need to survive. She parried his blow just in time, the force of it reverberating up her arm. Panic clouded her mind, her vision narrowing to the immediate threats around her. No, no, no, she was not a killer.
She threw herself to her left towards the trees that the attacks came from and she saw Talon out of the corner of her eye, a whirling storm of lethal grace, taking down opponent after opponent with a ferocity that was almost terrifying. In the heat of battle, Talon was a sight to behold. His tall, broad-shouldered frame moved with a lethal grace, each spar with his sword finding its mark with unerring accuracy. The sun-bleached strands of his hair flew around his face as he pivoted and fired, a blur of motion and precision. The scars stretched on his arms were badges of honor, each one a story of survival and skill. Despite the chaos around him, his expression remained impassive, his emotions tightly controlled. To his enemies, he was terrifying. Blood sprayed across the snow, bright and stark against the white.
Aerin stumbled, gagging at the sight, nearly losing her footing as another attacker came at her. She swung her sword, the blade glancing off his armor. He knocked her back with a powerful strike, and she hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her. Pain exploded through her side, but she forced herself to get up, she winced as her vision blurred with tears and fear. She felt heat against her side as blood covered her leather armor, the warmth stung against her cold skin.
She slashed at one of the attackers, the force of her blow sending them stumbling backward into the snow. The fog swallowed them whole, leaving only the dark smear of blood on the white ground.
“Talon!” she screamed, her voice raw. He couldn’t take them all on his own. She had to help, had to do something. “Something, please,” she begged to herself.
The magic within her surged, a sudden, overwhelming presence. She had no control over it, had never truly understood it, but now it felt like a lifeline. She grabbed it from within like a long string of pearls. She dragged and dragged and dragged. Another hooded figure closed in on her, and Aerin’s panic reached a fever pitch. Her eyes flashed right open as her eyes shifted to black the magic burst forth, an uncontrollable wave of energy that knocked her assailant back. He hit a tree with a sickening thud and blood poured out from his nose. Aerin’s heart raced, her breath coming in ragged gasps. What had she done? Her eyes shifted back, there was no time to think, no time to process what had just happened. Another attacker was upon her, and she swung her sword with all her strength, she lunged forward with all her weight, the blade slicing through the man's flesh. The man fell, blood pooling around him, and Aerin felt a nauseating mix of horror and vomit rising within her. She struggled herself back on her feet, the pain at her side substantially worse. “Talon!” she screamed as she hung herself forward in excruciating pain.
The battle raged on, fierce and unrelenting. Talon was a force of nature, cutting down their enemies with brutal efficiency. Aerin moved to his side, trying to match his pace, her mind a whirlwind of fear and determination. She blocked another attack, her muscles screaming with effort, and for a moment, she locked eyes with Talon. There was a fierce pride in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of her strength. She had magic. Talon was both surprised and scared. Mara had never told him about her magic before. Her magic had come out of her with such force and control like he had never seen before.
In the midst of the chaos, Aerin’s quick thinking and resourcefulness turned the tide, saving them both. The mountains seemed to close in on them, jagged peaks looming like sentinels over the narrow path. Every breath Aerin took felt like it might freeze in her lungs. The snow, once a tranquil blanket, was now a battlefield—stained with the dark streaks of blood. The enemy moved again, slipping in and out of the mist like phantoms, using the environment to their advantage. The wind howled through the narrow passes, swirling the snow around them, reducing visibility to near nothing.
Aerin’s pulse pounded in her ears as another figure lunged from the fog. She sidestepped, kicking them into a snowdrift before slashing downward, her blade meeting resistance as it cut through armor.
The fight felt like an eternity, but then, Talon’s final strike hit. The last of the attackers fell, and silence descended once more, broken only by their labored breathing. The snow around them was stained with blood, the air dry and thin. Aerin’s hands were shaking uncontrollably, her sword slipping from her grasp. Everything ached and pained. her head started to slip. So much pain, and she fell to the ground with a loud thud.
She looked at Talon, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and dread. “I didn’t mean to... I couldn’t control it,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she trembled on the ground. Talon stood at the edge of the cliff, his bow drawn and ready, eyes scanning the horizon with the precision of a hawk. The frail sun glinted off his blond hair and illuminated the scars that traced intricate patterns along his arms. Despite the wear and tear of countless battles, his grip on the bow was steady, unwavering.
Talon stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. “You did what you had to, Aerin. You fought bravely. We’re alive because of you.” His voice was calm, reassuring, but his eyes were hard, already scanning their surroundings for any further threats. As he looked back on Aerin’s body on the ground his eyes turned grave as the snow beneath Aerin’s body turned red.