Mortality is a fickle and cruel design. Not meant to completely withstand the bitter cold or sweltering heat. I loathe my mortality every waking moment. From my hunger, to my need for warmth. Mortality is hardly contained in my frame of flesh and blood. 

My hand sat stiff against the hilt of my sword, nearly frozen to the steel. My breath was slow for I was standing completely still at my post, my eyes forward. It was dark tonight, only a faint glow of yellow and orange danced on the snow outside the stables. The old wood of the stables creaked rhythmically from the wind, making me jump every time I heard it.

“It’s almost too quiet.” My voice was barely a whisper. I turned my head to the side, glancing at Fennix.

Fennix met my gaze. He was stocky, with broad shoulders and short legs. “You always say that,” He chuckled. “You’re just paranoid.” 

“I am not.”  I huffed. I whipped my head around behind me, but the horses stood still. “I’m just cautious.” 

Fennix was right, as always, but I would never let him have the satisfaction of seeing right through me. My nerves took root in my stomach, making me feel waves of nausea and unease.

Fennix used his sword to draw in the snow. I watched him for a few moments, then stood on the tips of my toes to get a better look. It was two lopsided circles and a tall tophat. “Finishing touch.” Fennix smirked as he drew the worst smiley face on it. I shook my head at him and he gave me a toothy grin.

 Fennix put his hands on his hips and looked down on his snow drawing with pride.

 “We’re supposed to be guarding, not drawing pretty pictures.” My tone was now more serious. We could get caught right this moment goofing off instead of standing at our post.

“Guarding what? These stinky old horses?” He gestured back to the stallions behind us. “Now that the top target is gone, who wants to kill an old horse?” 

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

I shot him a cold glare. He knew better than to openly joke about the King’s untimely death. You never knew who was around to hear such talk. You could be a hundred miles out west of Kaneveras, and it still wasn’t safe. 

Fennix gave me an apologetic look, understanding what I truly meant. Which is that I can’t lose him over some joke. He knew words were a death sentence, even if it was just a joke. People have been killed for much less.

The wind picked up, crashing into the side of the stable in a steady flow of plush snow and ice. The horses became uneasy, and I lifted my arm above my head to shield my face, trying to fight against the frigid gale. “We should step inside! Let this blow over!” Fennix called. 

I nodded in his direction and began inside. I shook off the snow on my armor, and did a head count of all the horses. They were restless, clearly agitated. I walked over to one of the stalls that held a small mare. She was solid black with a pin straight black mane. I pat the side of her neck, shushing her. She seemed to calm a little, and she huffed. 

“It’s such a shame they hardly ever get taken out.” I continue to brush my hand through the mare's mane. “I would love to learn to ride one. My father always spoke about his days riding.” 

Fennix just gave me a sad smile. He’s heard countless stories of my family, yet has never recounted his days with his own family. I’ve gathered only a few bits and pieces over the years, but never enough to make a full story. 

“How is your old man?” Fennix asks, “Still with Annora?” He looked at me with genuine curiosity.

I shrug. “Annora hasn’t written in months, so I assume the same.” 

Annora is my younger sister. She lives on the coast of Kaneveras where it’s mostly warm year round. Her and I were never truly close, the only thing we shared was the love for our father. He doted on her constantly, and now she dotes on him after he got hurt. 

Fennix grins, “I wish she would write to me.” 

I kick dirt in his direction. I can’t say I blame him for having such wishes, it gets lonely as a guard. Fennix and I have only had each other the past year, always being assigned the boring jobs. I think our commander is not our biggest fan.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Fennix smiled tightly, his tone now somewhat serious. 

Tomorrow, the new Queen arrived. I hated change, especially this kind of change. The transition into a new person in power was always difficult. Civil unrest and protests popped up around the country, but were always quickly shut down. The people loved the late King, he was the best this country has seen in a very long time. For it to now be a young Queen… The transition will be rocky. 

Fennix and I early in the morning will make our way towards the city. It was a good 7 miles or so, and neither of us are excited for the trek. 

“I just pray she will be as good on the throne as Braxas was.” I take off my helmet and shake out my hair. “Take first watch?” 

Fennix nods, “I have a blanket in my pack you can use.”

I help myself to his offer. “I’ll just have a quick nap.” I lay down on some questionable looking hay, but try to get comfortable. “Goodnight Fennix.”

“Sleep well, Marion.”

The pit in my stomach grows bigger as I shut my eyes, nodding off to sleep.