THE ONLY PRINCE [High Fantasy Quest Adventure w/ Fae Romance]

Chapter Two

I ALMOST MISS the sight of Great Aunt Elora's lacy shawl flowing behind her as she slips inside the stable.

I pause by the entrance, taking in the sight without announcing my presence.

Aunt Elora stands in the dappled sunlight coming through a window, her small frame looks even tinier as she cradles the large, shining golden bridle of the Ceryneian in her delicate hands. Earlier this morning, I had braided Aunt Elora's silver hair into a crown, but loose locks now dance around her face as the sea breeze flits through them.

The golden doe of legend, Solaris, stomps her enormous bronze hooves nervously against the dirt, shifting her massive weight back and forth. Aunt Elora's lips move fast, too quickly that I can't make out what she's reciting, but I'd bet it's another protection superstition. Her bony fingers shakily fidget the bridle. It is impossible for her to completely lift, and Solaris tilts her head down to make it easier to slip on.

The polished metal of the bridle looks dull in comparison to the shimmering spun gold of Solaris's coat. Even as it has turned more platinum in age. It's still bright enough that whatever sunlight hits reflects off of her. Every breath, every toss of her head, reflects beams that chase away the shadows around us.

Shimmering iridescent antlers of ethereal gold, towering and branching like the boughs of an ancient oak, crown her head, reaching towards the heavens with a quiet reverence. Like the very essence of the sun had been woven into their form, infusing them with the same warmth and luminosity.

Mortal doe's do not have antlers- that is for stags, and certainly not antlers of gold.

But Solaris is not a mortal doe.

My father often boasts about how he tamed Solaris. It's a favorite tale of the sailors, and one of the only ones Orion will tell of his time growing up in the fae realm.

Not much is known of the fae realm, of the fae or their magic within. It is nearly impossible for humans to enter the fae realm, so few even know how. But my Grandmother Cassia did.

The myths say mortal babies born in the fae realm are supposed to be destined for glory, and us left behind mortals share ghost stories of all those who have been lured by the sirens call of fae, and how those who leave, very rarely come back.

And Cassia didn't. She died during childbirth in the fae realm, and my father was raised by fae.

During his time in the fae realm, Orion, fueled by fury over the death of a friend, gathered his allies, and managed to domesticate a Ceryneian, a feat only ever done before by four others.

He's never revealed exactly how he managed to do it.

His only greater achievement is the killing of the Daenara, the large snow leopard of legend.

It is his legacy.

The great Daenara, brought down by Orion, the Hunter of Avalon, riding the golden Ceryneian. 

Now, the Daenara rests as my father's most prized possession, made into a pelt with a headpiece of the great snow leopard's face. And, Solaris, has gone from destrier doe, to my father's companion.

But at the end of the day, despite their many years adventuring together, I think Solaris and Aunt Elora take comfort in their age together. They've shared many seasons, endured many storms together, and she must sense Elora's unease.

Suddenly, Aunt Elora looks up, her stormy gray eyes meeting mine. A small smile tugs at her lips, though the worry lines on her face remain etched in deep creases. She beckons me closer with a frail hand, and I comply, crossing the distance between us.