Warrior Of Smoke

Chapter 1

"Oh for fuck sake"
Your shitting me. You're actually shitting me. This is...

"A giant pile of horseshit," Dagda mumbled.

His blue eyes, so dark they were almost black, shot her a look of resigned annoyance.

"Did you really have to hit him? Like seriously, what did you think was gonna happen? Oh, I'm just going to hit the son of a warlord and get away with it," Dagda looked so pissed that she didn't say anything.

"He kicked my sister. My pregnant sister. I was not going to just sit there," she growled.

Dagda merely smirked. " I really hate you, you know that"

She did know that. That was literally all he ever told her .

"Im going to kick you if you don't shut up, and I will kick you somewhere special, you prick."

That stupid smirk again. She really wanted to kick him now. Knock a few of his teeth in. Maybe that would shut him up.

"I'd like to see you try. You got like two kicks in, and then he knocked you flat on your disgusting face," he taunted.

She wasn't small, not at all. Back in her old town, she was tall. Over here, she was 5,5 in a land of giants six foot and over.

She really hated that. She hated how everyone pushed her around. She hated the pitying looks because of her height. Her build.

The camp leaders treated her like a child. She was 17. They thought she couldn't fight. Couldn't run far. Couldn't lift anything heavy. They didn't know she broke her foot.

Or how.. how she lost.. lost hi-
Now was not the time to be pitying herself. She had to scoop horseshit, then again look for a healer. One she could afford. What she couldn't afford was people figuring out about her foot. She would be kicked out and would have no money to help support her sister and herself. She needed to be better if she wanted to give her sisters baby a good life.

Ignoring Dagda's hateful comments, she scooped the horseshit out of the stable until her muscles burned and her foot began screaming in agony.

She wanted to be like her mother. She wanted to be able to shove pain and thought's out of her mind and focus.

Fortunately for her, she was her mothers daughter. Muscles burning, foot screaming, and her mind shoving unwanted memories down her throat, she cleaned and shovelled the dirt out of the massive stables.

When she finished, she stood back, wiping her sweaty palms on her tight black pants. She took a look around and nearly exploded in anger.

Dagda hadn't been helping at all. He was leaning against the burnt door of the stables, filing and cleaning his nails with his favoured dagger, fitheach.

"Why aren't you helping? What are you even doing?" She yelled, she had done this on a fucking broken foot and he had stood there and watched.

Bile rose in her throat. What if he noticed the injury. He hated her enough to want to get rid of her.

"Admiring the view," he smiled a smile with no feeling. Even his eyes looked blacker than usual.
She was terrified all of a sudden.

"I'm going now," she muttered hastily. Moving quickly to disguise her injury, she raced to the door, suddenly desperate for the sun.

A lick of rain curled on her cheek.