As dawn broke the horizon, Dreco had already begun discussing the methods that Apondra used when she and Barri went hunting, and after some time he concluded that although she had experience with a bow, her aim was not nearly where it should be if she had a good chance of surviving a real battle; Though his did not discount its usefulness entirely.

“So… what do you think would suit me better, Dreco?” Apondra asked, leaning against the wall next to her bed.

Dreco smiled at the question, a trainee who was not afraid to ask for guidance could be shaped into something magnificent. Unfortunately, her question was not one that he could simply answer from his years of experience, she needed to find the answer for herself, and Dreco knew of one way that was almost foolproof.

Elwe seemed to read his thoughts as he said with an equally eager grin, “Are you well enough for a little journey?”

Apondra’s heart pounded with exhilaration while she followed Dreco across the stone bridge, the gentle notes of song birds and the calm splashing of the river could not quell the spark she felt in the air around her.

Dreco turned off the path as they came to the end of the bridge that connected the small town of Dryn to the expansive cobbled roads of Tyrenia, the capital city of Aetis, and home to Queen Anamarie Clera. Apondra quickly followed after the others who had walked almost out of sight while she stopped to admire the city from afar. She ran to catch up with the men when she realized that Dreco had his hand raised in a fist. She slowed to a halt behind Colin.

A hint of a smirk showed on Dreco’s face as he turned to glance at her, “Good. Now into the trees,” he ordered.

She nodded at the instruction and walked with the trio towards the woods to their west. Apondra had hunted in these woods since she was a small child, but even being confident under the forest canopy she found that as they went deeper she was unfamiliar with this section of the woods. Her heart pounded and she tried to focus on taking in as many details as she could.

The men continued on, no longer chatting between themselves, Dreco at the lead, weaving easily through the trees as if he knew them better than even she did. As they delved deeper and deeper into the wall of thinning trees and dying brush Apondra could feel a change in the air, much like when Barri had been cornered by the vampires on their last hunt. Where was it coming from? She touched Dreco’s shoulder for him to stay vigilant and went to unsheathe her dagger, only to find that it was missing. She patted the pockets of her cloak. Nothing. She found a thick branch that would suffice and held it at her side while she and Dreco scanned the area, Dreco always keeping his body in line with the prince’s, who he had ushered behind him.

Apondra stared at the blade Dreco held at his side, she had never seen a blade so blood-tinged before, even Barri’s butchering blades were less stained. He moved carefully through the brush as the prince slipped a bow off his shoulder that had been hidden by his cloak and knocked an arrow, scanning the area as his guard was.

Apondra moved herself next to the prince and exchanged a glance with him, listening for anything in the underbrush that would give away where the threat was. There it was, a set of steps in the trees, The steps quickened to a run, to the right. She followed them.

Dreco let out a sigh and both men lowered their weapons, “Come on out!” he called, “We’ve got some work to do!” he busied himself with helping Elwe sling his bow back over his shoulder, sending her a glance, whether it was in disappointment she could not tell in Dreco’s expression, while he did, “You should not have brought this bloody thing Elwe!” he flicked the prince’s cloak, “what if you had gotten tangled up in it?”

Elwe huffed a laugh and smirked smartly, “We could have seen not only her reaction time, but how she would react to a downed ally, it would have tripped me up at some point,”

The way Dreco glared at the prince, Apondra would have guessed that this was a bad idea, if not for the smirk that barely showed on the guard’s face.

Colin emerged from the forest growth to Apondra’s left, brushing dead leaves from his hair, when did he slip away? She hadn’t noticed he was gone. He stopped in front of her and produced her dagger from a pocket in his leather armor.

Dreco was quick to take the dagger and pointed it square at her, his face cold and his eyes stony, “Lesson one kid. ALWAYS check your weapons. Other recruits will not hesitate to find ways to slip you up. They will do anything to stand out from you,” he glanced her up and down as he spoke, “Being a woman they will believe it is easy to do,” he handed her dagger back to her and closed the distance between them so she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye rather than stare at his muscled chest, “Make it something The Father would be proud of,”

Apondra straightened herself, the branch relaxed at her side.

Dreco took a step back and observed her stance, watching as she bent to return the dagger to a sleeve in her boot. An inconvenient place for it, unless she was downed by an enemy or using her body as a distraction as she did with the drunkard, it would do her little good. As he took note of her weapon placement he also noticed something alarming, but the lesson must go on, “Hand to hand is next,”

Apondra tossed her branch to the side, and as it left her hand Dreco swept her legs out from under her, sending her crashing onto her back. She growled and started to stand when Dreco pinned her leg under his boot. The weight was enough to be painful, and she grabbed his ankle, uselessly trying to pull him off of her.

“Lesson two,” Dreco said as he watched her struggle with a straight face, “When things seem calm, stay alert! A battle is never as calm as it appears. There is always something lurking in the shadow of an enemy's eyes,” he casually stepped away, allowing her back to her feet.

Apondra rubbed her ankle for a moment and went to take the branch up again when Dreco raised a hand to stop her.

“We are done for today. Time to get you home,”

After returning to her home with Elwe and Dreco, Colin being sent back to the inn to be sure that the innkeeper hadn’t gone through their belongings while they were out, Apondra busied herself with the evening’s chores; checking that the chickens were fed and warm, she noted that the garden was beginning to show signs of withering, much too soon than it should so the prince quietly instructed Dreco to bring a bucket of river water for Apondra’s garden. She didn’t dare correct him that it wasn’t her garden but once she took what rotten produce she could find and tossed it into a bin to be composted, she turned to the prince, curious enough to ask something that had been weighing on her since the training session ended.

“Do you think I did anything right back there Elwe?” she asked, the sense of defeat was like a brick in her stomach as she turned over the events of that morning over and over in her head.

The prince was quiet for some time as she turned back to the garden to pull any weeds that had started showing in the dirt. The feeling sunk deeper and she felt the threat of pitiful tears sting her eyes. All she had wanted to do was prove that she could do it. Prove to herself, and to Barri that she could handle herself outside of Dryn. But after today….had she really done that badly that the prince was lost for words? He did not suddenly think less of her did he? She hung her head and was ready to accept the silence for an answer when the prince finally spoke up.

“Why do you think he pinned you to the ground the way he did?” came the prince’s matter-of-fact reply. She looked up at him tearfully, a weed still held in her hand, “He knows that you have the will to be a great fighter. Dreco was testing where he could help you improve. I do not doubt that he is at the riverbank right now, thinking up ideas of how to best train you,”

Apondra blinked at the response, and scanned the prince’s face for any falseness, but found only a gentle, kind expression that confirmed he was truthful with her. She stood and tossed the weeds over the fence line when she heard the back gate slide open. Apondra turned to face Dreco, who was wet to the ankles with a full water bucket in hand for her.

She smiled and took the bucket, taking an old cup from beside the garden to water it.

As she did she could hear Dreco address the prince, “Well, shall we head back to the inn, Your Majesty?” Why did such formal words sound awkward in his voice? Apondra wondered.

Elwe sighed, as if he did not want to return to the confines of the room yet, “I suppose we should, I did tell Ana I would meet her for morning tea tomorrow, and you know how she is about being punctual,” Elwe mused as Dreco donned his hood and went to hold the gate open.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Apondra turned away from the garden to bid them both farewell when Elwe turned to her and bowed his head.

“Thank you for your hospitality, and excitement this morning,”

She blinked at the prince for a moment and returned his bow with a smile.

“We will see you again, Apondra,” Dreco nodded to her from outside the gate as the prince left through it, “No boot daggers next time,” his dark eyes glinted with humor and she smiled more genuinely, excitement for their next adventure bubbling in her stomach, as she watched them both depart.

Her smile did not fade that evening as she barred the shop doors for the night and bid herself to get ready for bed. For the first time, in a rather long time, she did not feel so alone in the streets of Dryn.

Bermet sat quietly on the small rock formation near the center of Siren’s Lake, her eyes fixed to the north where dark storm clouds had begun rolling in. The sound of thunder in the distance and the yellow tinge that just barely touched the clouds surface called for a good storm, but she could feel something more in the air.

“Something wrong Pearl?” Barri asked from the shoreline, noticing the way her tail flicked nervously in the water.

She looked away from the storm to face him, “Mother is mad, storm will be bad,”

Barri breathed a frustrated sigh, “Seems even Chellaintha is slave to emotions as Pondie is,” much as all women in Barri’s life… a sharp slap on the water tore his thoughts from the nagging worry about how long the storm would delay his trip home. Bermet had disappeared into the lake, leaving ripples bouncing across the water. Barri went back to the shelter of the old cabin, the clouds overhead were covering the sky in a yellow hue and there was an earthy smell hanging in the air. The storm would be a heavy one, that much was clear, but Barri worried as he watched the rain transform from a light drizzle to a blinding downpour that Apondra would run out of blood meal to keep her thirst at bay before he returned home to replenish the supply. Perhaps Voron could be of some help if the crafty mage was up to his usual tricks, always knowing more than he should be shut away in his tavern, he would have a solution already on its way to Barri’s shop. At least, that was what Barri hoped.

As she settled into bed, her body aching and sore from the first training session with Dreco, Apondra couldn’t help but realize just how quiet the house was. Though the rain had returned with quiet drumming on the roof, she missed the familiar rumble of Barri’s snoring. Apondra sighed as her thoughts grew more intrusive as she was left to wonder if Barri had run into trouble, or if he had made it to Siren’s Lake at all. She took a steadying breath to stem her darkening thoughts and went to the dining room to fix herself a drink.

No. Oh Mother where is it? I did not go through two jars THAT fast! Did I? Apondra’s mind raced and her heart with it as she tore open the cupboards in search of the glass jars that Barri left for her before he left those weeks ago. Gone. Every fleck of it was gone. Apondra growled through her teeth and braced herself against the countertop to steady her shaking hands. Why could she not just control herself? She spat a curse into the darkness and whipped one of the empty jars at the front door of the shop. Startling a raven away from the window when it shattered. Apondra sighed and retreated back to her room, swallowing against the burning in her raw throat that would prove to keep her up the rest of the night. She would deal with the mess in the morning.

“Of course that is why…” Apondra grumbled as she tossed her soiled undergarments into the wash bucket and retrieved a fresh pair of padded undergarments from her closet.

Soon after sweeping up the glass from the night before, she was lounging in the dining room with a hot cup of tea and her favorite book, wondering how Elwe’s morning tea with Queen Anamarie was fairing. As her mind wandered further she began lifting her cup more delicately as she turned through her book.

It was later that afternoon, as she tended to her chores in the garden, her hands pecked at by the agitated chickens who left very few eggs today, that her head began spinning with pain from the still sore bump left on her head that was healing slower than she would like. She sat down against the fence, gripping the sides of her head as her temples throbbed.

A light tapping at the back gate caught her ear and she snapped her head towards it, with immediate regret when her head spun to the point she felt sick to her stomach. Trying, and failing, to keep her ailment out of her voice she answered back, “Come in,”

“Mother! She looks even paler than usual!” she heard Colin exclaim and then shout when Dreco struck him with an open hand.

Elwe shook his head at Colin and knelt in front of Apondra.

Although Elwe did not agree with the bluntness of Colin's remark, he could not speak against it. Any pinkness in her face was gone, and she looked weak. As he searched for a reason why she could be so sick this suddenly, he remembered the inn. She was of vampiric descent, “Apondra?” she lifted her head sluggishly to acknowledge him, “when was the last time you hunted?” Elwe could not keep the concern from his voice and sent Colin a warning glance when he smirked at his tone. Elwe straightened himself and turned square with Colin and growled, “Do you want to do the honors?!” At the resulting silence, Elwe rolled his sleeves, having a newfound respect for Dreco’s level of patience with the new guard, and knelt to face Apondra once more and repeated a bit more gently, “How long has it been since your last hunt Apondra?”

He could see her hesitate with the question but she quietly responded, “Four days. Barri left jars of blood meal at home for me before he left on his trip, I ran out four days ago, I only realized last night that it was gone,”

Elwe’s brow dropped with his concern, “And how long has he been gone now?” her response only deepened his worry, almost a month.

Dreco, who had remained silent up until this point spoke up, always observant, “The storm may have delayed him. Where did you say your father traveled to Apondra?”

She stiffened noticeably at Dreco’s question and tucked her knees to her chest, “I did not say,” she responded almost coldly. Elwe stood and took a step back to allow Apondra her space.

Dreco frowned at her defiant answer, but did not argue her guardedness, crossing his arms over his chest.

Elwe went to take a dagger from Dreco’s weapon belt when he saw the look on Apondra’s face, the same fear was there at the inn when Apondra realized it was he that she struck that night. When he lowered the dagger from his wrist she relaxed again, still staring at him warily.

“Never drink from royal,” she parrotted, mimicking Barri’s dialect before returning to her own, “They will hurt us… the royal guard. I can never accept your offer Elwe, I am sorry,”

“How about an offer from one of the guards instead?” Dreco took his dagger back and shot Elwe a look that said he would have an earful to deal with when they returned to the inn later that evening. He stepped aside and leaned against the garden fence, wondering why a butcher’s daughter (if she was even of his blood at all?) would be warned to keep away from the royal families?

Dreco sat next to Apondra and spoke gently to her in a hushed voice, and Elwe could just make out Apondra offering Dreco an apology for them finding her in such a state. Dreco just shook his head and said something that though Elwe could not make it out seemed to lighten her mood as she smiled and her body visibly relaxed. She would be okay, Elwe reminded himself as he went inside to distance him from what came next and give Apondra some privacy. He could never stomach the sight of blood.

The prince sat at the small dining table, noticing a well used book sitting there, he pulled it towards him and tried to read the title, frowning at just how worn out the book was, “The Curse…? The Cursed?” The letters were so worn that the title was almost entirely illegible. He pushed the book back and quietly admired the simple interior of Apondra’s home, though the walls felt very bare for any merchant's home; the ones that he frequented in Etecia had such elaborately made decor on their walls that it sometimes rivaled the decor of his father’s castle. However this shop barely had more than hung displays of dried merchandise, or jarred goods, even less could be said about the living space that Apondra and her father shared. Elwe tore his curious gaze from where his eyes lingered on the short hallway off the dining area, to see that Apondra and Dreco were returning inside, Dreco’s gait noticeably heavy, his wrist cut and still oozing red. But Dreco did not falter, he was not misstepping or stumbling so Elwe rose and helped Apondra gently guide him to the pulled out dining chair.

Apondra nodded and disappeared into the shop for a moment and returned a short time later with a small parchment package, which she opened on the table revealing some type of dried meat, and carrying a clean cloth bandage in her other hand. Dreco took it and ate in silence as Apondra worked to clean and dress his wound, being careful to not bring his guard any additional discomfort. Her feather-like care around his wound reminded Elwe of the angel healers that some kingdoms across Galoahar employed. Had she been trained by someone?

Dreco reminded Elwe between bites, and glances at her dressing work, that they were due to head for the docks soon and would need to depart quickly, already acting as if no act had just transpired.

Elwe nodded and reached into his tunic pocket, palming a note scrawled for Apondra earlier that morning, and quietly tucked it into her book while she focused on her binding work. She stood and smiled, satisfied with her work and went to a wash bucket in the cooking area to clean her mouth and hands of the blood that remained with a rag that hung on the side of it.

“We must be going now, Apondra, we will return to the pub later this evening if you wish to accompany us,” she hesitated over the wash bucket and he could see her anxiously tonguing the remnants of her split lip, she healed rather quickly which he was glad for, “We will escort you home safely afterwards, you have my word,”

Apondra sat on her bed, staring hopelessly at her wardrobe yet again. To say she was afraid to return to the pub was an understatement, especially considering the man who attacked her was local to Dryn, she was terrified. Nevermind having to tell Mina and Beren something, they would never just excuse her split lip, even if the wound was almost healed. She sighed and took a black, knee length dress from the closet and prepared to meet with Elwe.

After fixing her hair into a braided bun, and redoing the pins in her hair a few times to ensure it did not undo itself or move when she walked, two front hair pieces pulled out to shape her face, she went to the dining room and checked that the front door was barred properly. She exhaled and leaned against the dining table, trying to breathe away the stressful thoughts that created a whirlwind in her mind, everything would be fine. She lingered on the book she left on the table and went to scoop it up to put it away, fumbling it and sending it crashing to the floor, spine up and pages splayed open. Apondra shook off the little frustration and picked up the book, something fluttering to the floor when she did. If she had damaged the old book… she picked up the small parchment and realized that it was a different texture, and far thinner than the book pages. Apondra opened it, tucked it away in the book and put the book under her pillow in her room. She went about getting herself ready, the scrawled note sending a shiver up her spine; in a hastily scratched letter, only three words were written: Bring your dagger.