A Human with a secret heritage.
A Nephilim determined to save his world.
A Light Fey running from a dark past.
An Elven Princess who lost her kingdom.
And the missing Fifth.
In a future where races that were never thought to exist roam the n...
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Evianna Sharora
Evianna stood before the iron gate, the sky only just beginning to brighten into a shade of cobalt and fire. The horizon in the west- the direction they would soon be headed for- was still black. Four horses were lined up, the fourth horse- a black stallion- stood in the lead. Bags were hooked to their saddles, carrying weapons, food, clothes, gold, and supplies to build make-shift tents, much like the ones Evianna remember from The Stilan. Each one of them carried their own bags in case there came a time they had to make a quick escape and couldn't get back to the horses. The satchels contained only food, gold, a change of clothes, and bandages.
Sleep weighed down on Evianna, to the point she was ready to find the closest bed to return to. Nightmares and anxiety had kept her awake the night before, dawn arriving far too soon. The one thing keeping her from passing out where she stood was the nerves twisting her stomach and her heart racing in anticipation. Her Nephilim parents had died to prevent this day from coming, to keep her safe, but after all, she had done- the lives she had taken, the lies she had told- she owed this to only one person. Her brother.
Her whole life had been full of risk, so what was one more?
That thought wasn't as comforting as Evianna had hoped.
Something cold nudged her right cheek and Evianna started. One of the horses had moved next to her, its brown fur glossy and smooth. Hesitantly, she reached up and ran a hand along its snout. There had been few horses in The Stilan. She never learned to ride, and the first time she had ever been on one was when she had been dying from Revenant. Evianna couldn't help but smile as the horse, a kind, and loyal creature.
"I think someone likes you." Zachariah's voice carried from behind her.
Evianna jerked her hand back, silently scolding herself for letting it show how on edge she was. Either Zachariah didn't notice or knew it was best not to ask.
"If you say so," Evianna replied.
Zachariah stepped up beside her, taking the rein and leading it back over to the others. The horse on the far left was spotted white and brown, the middle one gray with the exception of its white face. Evianna observed as Zachariah busied himself with checking all the straps holding the bags, his own satchel thrown over his black Nephilim attire. They, along with everyone else, wore the same matching clothes, lightweight but padded in all the areas that needed protection. A belt hung from Evianna's waist, holding the white bone-handled dagger that Zachariah had returned to her when she had been released from her cell the day before and the "blade of peace".
Evianna had ensured to express that they could have come up with a better name for their weapons.
Her companions, Evianna guessed, were still inside preparing for their journey. Evianna had seen Zeke the day before during their morning "meeting" and during training, but he had refused to speak or meet her eye since that night in her cell. She couldn't blame him.
