The Crownless

A Sudden Request

      There was a smudge of blood on her brow as she scavenged through the hills of Castonia's northern sierra, Dorgonis. Myrrine Sauridge wiped her brow with her sleeve as she slowed her pace through the rooted pathway towards her dwelling—a small wooden shack nearby a fresh spring. She had spent her entire afternoon lurking through the steep mountains for some precious silks and gems, harbored by some goblins.  Collecting various items of value was how Myrrine lived her life. When she was young, still living with her old folks, she would steal in the streets of Kiepler, the capital. Opening the door to her home, Myrrine flinched at the sound of the squeaking door. It was an odd fixer-upper, and even though she had all the time of the world in her hands, she still managed to procrastinate just doing anything about it. Letting her braid fall out loosely, the brown hair had no trouble finding the soft breeze coming through the northern window. Myrrine made her way towards the stained marble sink to grabbed a rag. She didn't really understand why there was a sink if the water was not running—she should probably fix that soon. Already tired, Myrrine sighed as she had to brace herself for another small hike towards the spring. She had to clean the cut above her eye before it would infect. She had previously fallen over a boulder, after missing her step during her earlier travels. It was suspicious to her, because she usually never faltered. Grabbing a heavier jacket, she bolted out of her little shack, heading towards the spring about half a mile from her home. She brought two buckets with her because she felt the need to wash. 

       Most people would call her savage, or poor, even though she might as well have been the queen of the sierra. But, titles had no effect on her. She might as well be the queen of Castonia, and she would dry heave to the thought of being spoiled, and rotten. When she finally arrived at the stream, she crouched down, keeping her cover as she filled both of the canisters with the water. If she wanted to drink any, she would have to boil it first. Winter's snowstorms and frozen winds had come and gone, leaving a gruesome stillness. The callous season was suffocating the world with its icy breath, leaving Myrrine shivering as she tucked her jacket closer around her. Her stubborn mind would have to learn one way or another, this time of year, to add a layer or two. 

      "You thought you could hide forever, Myrrine," The voice echoed with a chill that was harsher than the icy winds. Myrrine's head whipped back quickly as she eyes the shadowed figure against the dying tree.

      "Bastard," she hissed, as she dropped her canisters in the fresh snow under her boots. Kicking some snow off her boots, she crossed her arms. "Do you realize how stalker-ish that sounds?" She asked as she reached for a dagger that was sheathed by her side. Myrrine always kept weapons handy, especially since she lives in a morbid part of the mountains. 

      "By order of the king–" the stentorian voice growled.

      "Which king?" Myrrine's brow raised. The king didn't want anything to do with her. There was many kings that ruled over the great world of Castonia: Fenbrooke, Alkaland were the most known ones. 

      "The King of Alkaland." The male stepped into the dim lighting provided by the moon. It was only then did Myrrine realize how quickly nighttime had fallen. She looked at the male, broad-shoulders and dark. Although his skin looked like molten gold, his hair was black ebony and his eyes were cognac toned. She could tell that he wasn't human as his dark hair was caressing his jawline, and his teeth were sharp like canines. He had to be Fae, like the King of Alkaland was, like the whole population across that border was.

      "What is he ordering?" She questioned the male. He had to be Fae; coming from Alkaland was quite a few days travel. "Why does he want me?" Although she knew many people whispered about her scavenging reputations, she doubted that the king wanted her, a human. 

      "His technicalities were not specified. And even if they were, who am I to inform you?" Clever. The male was right, despite how much it irritated Myrrine. "He wants you now, so we leave now."

      Many thoughts began to fill through Myrrine's mind. There was a little sprinkle of excitement added to her eyes, "Fine." She straightened her posture and uncrossed her arms to allow her hands to find the dip in her hips, "Let's go."

      "W-wait! W-what?" The man stuttered, his eyes blinking in disbelief a few times, "you are willing to come, without a cause."

      "But there is a cause, isn't there? One that you don't know, one I am about to find out if I go, and honestly, what better is there to do up here?" She waved her hands at the peaks and the trees of the place she called home, the Dorgonis Sierra. "Plus I'm up for a quest." It did not take much to impress Myrrine. Her adventurous soul was always hungry for thrills of danger. Her pride loved the flattery that followed success. She picked up her canisters and sighed as she stared at him, "my place is just up the path, I'll gather a few things and we can go." She looked up at the ice shards in the sky, from the Great Dipper to Orion. "Unless you'd rather start early in the morning," her voice lingered as she slowly brought her head to level. She had already spent the entire day travelling around the mountains to find some finery that ended up being worthless.

       "We'll start in the morning, I'll camp out here tonight. Be ready at dawn." The man disappeared in the darkness just as quickly as he had appeared. Myrrine's teeth had began to clatter as she hiked back home, holding up two half full buckets. She would have to clean up quickly in the morning. Meeting the Fae king was no laughing matter. Despite the stirring excitement within Myrrine's body and mind, her body collapsed when she met her bed.