Stelsa, the girl crafted from the broken leftovers from the Gods, is far from the expectations of a normal lady. Her father, Aaeron Meryls, and her uncles sought to train her in the way of the blade. Many whisper about her origin - is she bastard li...
"If it becomes easier, you are just as much of a MONSTER AS YOUR ENEMY."
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THE BIRDS ABOVE JUMPED from tree limb to tree limb — mindful to maintain distance between themselves. Stelsa watched them from the ground, wondering what it must be like to have the freedom of wings. The freedom to soar away at any given moment. Instead, she remained a flightless creature. Destiny had been cruel to her in that way, she at least could have been born a Targaryen. At least then she could soar away. Lowering her gaze from the sky, Stelsa returned her gaze ahead as her father guided their horse through the woods. Neither had spoken a word to the other since their departure from the palace. What was there to say? To talk about? Stelsa felt she had more to speak on with her uncles than she did her own father.
Before they had left, Harwin and Rhyk had gifted the little wolf a dagger. It was a simple blade, a black handle with hints of sapphire flames, but it strapped to her side as though it had always belonged. Rhyk had smiled as Stelsa held the blade up, and Harwin had shown her how to strap it securely to her side. The uncles looked on in pride, both content with the gift. They tasked Aaeron with showing her how to use it properly.
The horse stopped, pulling Stelsa from the happy memory. Her father slid from atop of the black horse before scooping her from the back wordlessly, "We will make this our camp." Aaeron spoke to his daughter for the first time in hours. Stelsa looked around the area, trying to recognize any likable traits, "Hm?"
"Why here?" Stelsa asked, looking up at her father who scanned the area with her.
"It is enclosed. The night will grow cold." Aaeron explained as he moved to collect the branches around, "It has enough tree limbs and leaves to keep a fire going-" Aaeron gestured to the terrain around before turning to his daughter, "...listen." Stelsa closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sound her father wanted her to hear, "Do you hear the water nearby?" Her dark brows pulled together at the question, leaning to hear any sound. It hit her after a moment, the softest rush of water meeting stone. The sound was unfamiliar to her.
The girl could count on one hand how many times she had seen water. It was only rivers. Aaeron forbade her from going near the part of town that the ocean touched. Stelsa had never seen the ocean and part of her felt she never would. As long as her father drew breath, and perhaps, even after he no longer did.
"How did you hear that?" Stelsa opened her eyes to watch her father as he silently tied up their horse.
Aaeron glanced at his curious daughter who stood in the spot he had dropped her in, "If you listen, the forest will answer you." Aaeron repeated what his own father had told him at her age. One that he did not understand for many years after, "Come." Aaeron commanded her, turning his back to the little girl as he began his descent deeper into the woods.
The two fell back into silence. Stelsa did not know whether to ask questions or bite her tongue as she had the whole ride here. He was meant to be teaching her, right? Stelsa could not help but wish Rhyk or Harwin had joined them. They would make conversation at least, unlike father, Stelsa sourly thought. She kicked at a rock on the path, "What are we hunting?" Stelsa finally asked, looking up from her feet and to the back of her father's head.
