The Girl of Ossetia

Chapter Three

Three

Her dark gaze remained on the girl for a moment, watching her writhe in horror and awe. The autumn haired girl pushed back into the table holding all of the beer and ale. Her face twisting and lips tight, she had forgotten about ‘L’ up until now. Now staring straight into the owners face, she felt incredibly scared.

It took a lot to scare Arrana.

The woman exhaled again, her long, olive skinned fingers now trailed along the girls pale arm, before gripping her wrist in a death vice.

“Come with me, we have much to discuss.” She nearly snarled, but so soft that it sent chills up the girl’s spine. A sharp breath hissed down her to her lungs before she was pulled off briskly to a lone table at the back of the Brewery Tent. It was darker, and once they reached it, Arrana slowly sat down on the seat with her back to the crowds. The flowing woman gracefully pulled herself on top of the table, sitting cross legged, bowing her head, her large lips pursed. The smell of pine and mossy Bogs was overwhelming at this table. The buzzed feeling behind the girls eyes prevented her from fully focusing on the woman at first, before leathery fingers snapped out, caressed Arrana’s face, fixating her eyes onto the dark globes of Loriata’s.

“Arrana, you must listen. You’re fate is held in the clasps of my mind.” Her voice was soft, calm even, her longs grimy fingers nails stroked along her pale cheeks, before returning to her lap. She closed her eyes, as though summoning something or someone to help her portray her words to the girl.

Her heart thrummed loudly in her ears, tuning out all of the merry talk and jovial music. The buzzed feeling was subsiding, but now being replaced with adrenalin, fear, anticipation. When Loriata’s eyes reopened, they seemed to be even darker than before.

“My child, centuries ago there was a battle- I am sure you have heard of this. It destroyed all of Corrigun.” Her eyes glinted with a sudden burst of flame and excited screams. Arrana didn’t dare turn around to look.

“Yes I knew that.” She snapped, frustrated, brows furrowing. Loriata’s eyes flickered dangerously, but she did not say anything.

“The prophecies of you were contained as quietly as possible, held closely to just Ossetia, for it made sense you would be born into this land. I’m going to tell you this simply, Arrana.” Her voice grew slow, almost tired.

“Arrana, no one knew of you- besides Ossetia- you and your powers- until now.” She clenched her teeth, a muscle flexing in her jaw. “Duager has sent one of their stealth hunters to check the surrounding Kingdoms- for they think that all of them are ruined still. When they came upon Ossetia flourishing, they kidnapped an elder and threatened him with death if he did not tell them our secret.” Her eyes were keen, and now Arrana’s heart raced. A pending dread filled her stomach and her mouth became dry.

“They are coming tonight to kidnap you, Arrana. Duager is.”

Tears stung her eyes, she cursed her life. Why had she been the one to be born with a repair-man soul? A girl of prophecies. This was not fair. She said exactly this to Loriata, who gave her a hard look, but a hint of sympathy was masked behind those dark eyes.

“They plan to use your powers to rebuild Duager, and take over all of Corrigun—“ Her voice solemn, suddenly interrupted by the frantic desperation of Arrana.

“Don’t tell me this!” She wailed, covering her face, standing up. The woman’s hand gripped her quickly, sat her back down.

“Arrana listen.” Her voice was hard, quick now. “They will not be here until the rain moves in. It will make their movement faster and easier. Arrana, you must leave tonight. You must go to where the changers of Oanne are, they are some 50 miles over the small bank in the Valley. You must ride to it, the princess of the lake will be waiting for you. Do not worry, everything will be fine.”