Winter's Rebellion

Chapter 5: The Path to Aerlion: Fragments of the Beast

Elara's POV

After my incident with Sir Adrian, he has been wary of how close he gets to me. A pang of guilt rises in my chest. It's been two days since then. None of the other knights know what happened that night, and Tristian and I have yet to discuss the book of prophecies he gave me. We've had little time alone, and my fear has overridden any curiosity about it.

I'm jolted from my thoughts by the rocky terrain beneath us. Tristian lets out a mild groan of pain, and I glance back at him, concerned. He's allowed me to dress his wounds and assist him through his pain. Heat rises to my cheeks as flashes of his chiseled physique come to the forefront of my mind. I shake my head, trying to focus. How am I so distracted from what's important?

I inhale deeply, trying to push these thoughts away. Sir Thaddeus leads the party through the rougher terrain as we near Aerlion. Today is the day we should reach the kingdom. I'm nervous about seeing King James and Queen Isabella; it has been many years since I last saw them.

Tristian's hands occasionally brush against mine, sending a wave of warmth through me, despite the cold air. The sensation is almost too much, soft and tender against the biting chill of the mountains.

The atmosphere feels strange, as if the forest itself is holding its breath. The winds have ceased, and the only sounds are the steady trots of our horses and the crunch of snow beneath their hooves. Something is not right. I feel as if we're being watched.

Suddenly, all the horses halt. Sir Thaddeus raises his hand, signaling us to stop. An ominous silence fills the air, deafening in its intensity. The knights exchange tense glances, their hands ready on their weapons. Sir Brynden's horse begins to behave strangely, neighing uncontrollably and rearing up on its hind legs.

A chill runs down my spine as Tristian's protective body stiffens. He pulls me closer, his presence a shield against whatever danger lies ahead.

"Sir Tristian, what is happening?" I whisper, my voice trembling with fear.

"I'll protect you, Princess," he reassures me, his grip on my hand firm and comforting.

The sound of branches snapping and leaves crunching underfoot grows louder, surrounding us. Suddenly, Sir Adrian is thrown off his horse as it bucks in fear. He lands with a thud, groaning as he glares at the frightened animal.

"Ready yourselves, gentlemen," Tristian commands, his voice steady despite the mounting tension.

A sharp pain slammed into the side of my head, air rushes past me as I'm suddenly thrown from the horse, disorienting me. I hit the ground with a hard thud, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. A warm, sticky sensation trickles down the side of my head, and the world spins in a chaotic blur. Groaning, I try to move, but the pain is overwhelming.

"Princess Elara!" a voice cries out, but I can't make out who it is—everything is muffled, distant.

A loud ringing echoes in my ears, drowning out the sounds around me. I shut my eyes tightly, curling up in pain, trying to block out the world. The clash of swords breaks through the haze, piercing through the ringing in my head, and I can feel the vibration of the battle raging around me. The pain from my head radiates through my entire body, making it difficult to focus on anything but the throbbing agony.

I scream as a violent grip seizes my hair, dragging me roughly through the snow and over the jagged, rocky soil. My eyes fly open, and I catch sight of a knight clad in Malorian armor. Before I can react, I'm thrown face-first into the ground. The knight looms over me, his fists crashing down on my already battered body, each blow driving me further into darkness.