CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR: ROLANTH

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"Block," Morrigan snarls as she swings her sword in a quick motion that would've taken Nalani's head off

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"Block," Morrigan snarls as she swings her sword in a quick motion that would've taken Nalani's head off. If that was her intention. But of course she won't.

Scowling in return Nalani just about manages to get her sword there to meet Morrigan's and the deafening ring of steel clashing rings across Shannon's Blackway. The usual meeting place for her combat training.

Why Vivianne decided it is necessary for Nalani to have weapons training is something she will never understand. She has affinities for every elemental gift, except from ice.
She is not a war gifted queen. Why learn to use a weapon when her gifts make her a weapon?

"Your reactions are too slow," Morrigan states, her green eyes narrowing, "you better hope your little elemental tricks don't falter when you face Carina and Arwen otherwise the island will have to stomach the start of another poisoner dynasty or the beginning of a shadow one which is even worse."

Panting Nalani drops her sword to the side, her arm crying in relief at not having to lug around the heavy silver thing any longer.

Sending a cold look at Morrigan she uses her gift to send a bolt of lightning right next to the warrior who doesn't even flinch and just raises a red eyebrow with distain.

"I thought we'd grown out of your little lightning tantrums," Morrigan states, stabbing her sword into the ground in a quick motion as she walks towards Nalani.

"And I thought we'd grown out of you being a insufferable bitch but here we are," Nalanj retorts, sitting down in the grass which makes Morrigan smirk.

"Touché," she replies, coming to sit down in the grass next to Nalani who doesn't even look at her.

The elemental queen is too deep in thought. That all revolve around the prophecy. That damned prophecy. The threat of it haunts her at every moment.

And she hasn't told a soul about it and has no idea what to even think about it. The only thing that's certain is she must seek out Hecate Murtra, the midwife, before it's too late. But how to slip away without detection? How can she leave when the most important and dangerous year of her life has begun.

"What's wrong Nalani?" Morrigan asks, using her full name for once. The warrior sounds faintly concerned. How out of character that is.

"Everything," Nalani replies, her voice void of any emotion.

Morrigan rolls her eyes at that, "oh come on what's wrong with you?"

"None of your damned business," Nalani snarls in reply, no longer in the mood for Morrigan's attitude. Normally she likes bantering with the warrior. But today she's in an especially bad mood.

First of all Morrigan has been kicking her arse all afternoon. Nalani's not even sure she's made any progress at swordplay at all. And not sure she even wants to after facing Morrigan's ferocity.

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