Away with the Faeries

Chapter Thirty-five

 I didn't train my warriors. I trained with them. Sir Devon, a decorated Fae warrior who had returned from the frontlines less than a week ago seemed very uncomfortable at the idea of shouting orders at me. After a few days of convincing he relented. As I skipped jovially to the training grounds with Marcel's longsword in hand the number three rattled around in my head. A week ago I sent Lana out with three messages; one for King Inglor of Aer, another for Queen Visha, and a final one for Marcel. Wherever he was.

Lana returned today with three notes. One from King Inglor, agreeing to the rally point I set for today. Another from Queen Visha agreeing to the same. And finally with the note I had sent for Marcel. Lana had apologized for not being able to find him and there the note sat on my vanity, mocking me. Three. That was the number of notes on my vanity and the number of days before Erde gathered with Aer and Bana at the frontlines. Three.

"Didn't Aera send you to Bloed as a spy," I asked Sir Devon, metal swords clashing around us as soldiers sparred.

His sun-stained face scrunched in confusion, "The last time I spoke to Princess Aera she was no taller than a bag of potatoes," he clarified. "I've been commanding the frontlines for a long time, Your Highness."

That must have been decades away from his home if not centuries. My lips parted slightly; "What of your family," I asked. "Surely you've been back to visit them?"

His smile grew sad, "You cannot visit what you do not have. It is why I fight, I don't want more people to return to nothing Your Highness." His eyes roved then over my outfit, a skeptical eyebrow lifting; "Will you be able to move in that," he asked gesturing to my layered gown, "let alone fight?"

I had come to learn one thing about this life was that you had to use everything to your advantage. Even your disadvantages. Back in the arena, I was at a disadvantage because I had no idea how to fight in a dress. That mistake almost cost me my life and I wouldn't let it happen again.

"If you can't swing a blade and wear a dress at the same time then can you honestly call yourself a lady," I smirked. If gowns were to be my near future then I would adapt.

Sir Devon laughed brightly, "I see your point," he agreed as I held up three fingers. Devon nodded at the new information before falling into the crowd of sparring Fae.

I was a software engineer made queen who was fighting in the war of a lifetime. And I would win. At least an entire kingdom was counting on that fact. In three days. That's how long until we discovered if I was truly this prophesized queen.

Those few days passed in a blur and before I could distinguish my left from the right Erde troops were setting up camp on the dewy grass of allied land across the war front. Crates groaned as they were unloaded from a cart, soft droplets of rain thumped against the low-hanging tarp of the tent we stood under. Rays of sunshine broke through the murky skies as winter clung desperately to the chilled air and melting snow. Spring was soon upon us.

"Birdy!"

Gasps rippled through the settling camp as Birdy's squirming self was carried up to me, covered in dirt and hay from the wagon. Her small face was caked in the dark warrior's paint, heightening the sharp green of her eyes that clashed boldly with my own. With a nod, the Fae that restrained the tiny child released her and went back to unloading supplies. Birdy held her chin up high, never breaking her eye contact.

"All the fighters were leaving without me," she pouted, "You told me I was a warrior."

Crossing my arms I gazed down at the child, "No," I began, "I said you could be whatever you wanted."

Birdy's small wings fluttered as she stomped her foot, "I choose to be a warrior!"

Crouching down to her level I placed a gentle hand on her painted cheek, "And now I am choosing to send you home, far away from the danger," I said, "your poor mother must be worried sick."

Bottom lip trembling she shrugged me off, "I have to help. I can't leave," she cried, "my Papa's here, I can't go!"

Birdy was five, she was too young to understand what being a warrior meant. She was here because her father was. Birdy thought that by becoming a soldier she would be taken to him. There had been so many Fae casualties that it was a possibility Birdy's dad was captured or dead. Standing I turned to Sir Devon, capturing Birdy's hand in my own before she could flee.

Devon was at the back of the tent hovering over a map, deep in conversation with the King of Aer and my mother. Other Fae and Elven warriors surrounded the two, bouncing ideas around for the best plan of attack.

"If we come in from the east-," A warrior I had never met before began, their fingers sliding over the map in emphasis's. I glanced down to where they moved their fingers, unable to muffle the snort that escaped me. The group fell silent, every eye turning in my direction.

"Something you wished to add Queen Rayne," Devon asked, his gaze slowly falling to Birdy who slumped beside me.

"Only that if we invaded from the east our troops would immediately be trapped by Ignis," I placed a finger on the map pointing to the spot they had overlooked. The Kingdom of Erde borders with four other nations, one was our ally, another was neutral land, and the last two were Bloed and Ignis. If we sent troops point east they would be sent straight back, fleeing over the hills from the growing body of Ignis and Bloed that infested the region.

I moved my finger closer south on the map, nearer to the Kingdom of Bana, "If we gather troops here and then push them up and into Bloed we will have a better chance of winning. Ignis will have a more difficult time helping their ally out of fear of getting too close to our nations," I smirked as the jaws around me dropped. King Inglor scratched his beard his light eyes wide as he contemplated the map.

"That might actually work," Devon laughed.

"Quite a daughter you have here Briar," King Inglor said his words planting a smile on my mother's face.

"I know," she smirked.

"The plan could work, wonderful," I lulled as I lifted Birdy's hand into the air, "now does anyone know who she belongs to?"

A hoarse voice grumbled from behind me, "That would be me, Your Highness."