1 - Daughter Of The Storm

Argoshin - She Will Be One Of Us

The madness. The predatory instinct. Hunger, the terrible hunger. He hated it, it who was so manipulating and malicious, yet necessary.

Argoshin drank from the water of his wineskin. The action of consuming something calmed his mind.

"I can not go hunting, he thought. I have to stay here. Patience. He should arrive shortly, this elf messenger. He is as slow as a sow. "

He leaned back against the massive tree and looked up. Through the intimidating branches he could see the sparkling stars. His throat tightened.

"Will I be entitled to a place among you? I am only a bastard after all. "

He did not expect an answer. He had never received one anyway. He sniffed, irritated, crossing his arms to protect himself from a cold breeze and fell asleep.

***

The peaceful darkness of his sleep eventually changed.

A meadow stretched out before him. He had nothing, he had lost everything. Despair took a hold of his will. The lords had had what they wanted from him; he had lost control. Tornadoes whistled around him. The wind bothered his sensitive ears and the whistle was so sharp that he felt his head suffer under pressure.

- Stop! He yelled, holding his head.

The sound of an arrow piercing the air crossed his mind. He could not restrain himself, he pressed his hands over his ears.

- Stop! He bellowed, stronger than the previous time.

A second arrow flew; this one reached its target, luckily in the shoulder. The storm was raging around him. An iron gauntlet seized him.

- No! He thundered.

He roared and, without knowing how, he had a dagger in his hand. He stabbed into the forehead of his aggressor, then into his eye and finally into his throat. He looked up and whimpered.

- What will I do without you? He whined. I'm not even an adult. Maybe it's time to grow up...

He looked at his hands as soft as those of a young child. Although he was about to become a man, he had the appearance of an eleven-year-old boy.

"A messed up boy, he thought to himself. "

The tornado was approaching. It threatened to destroy the small but high house with white stone walls. A hand gripped his shoulder. He expected to see another iron gauntlet, but this time he was surprised to see a woman's hand. Reflexively, he hid his face in the hollow of his arm.

- Do not look at me.

- Come with me, said the woman. Hurry up before the others find us.

- But, my mother... She's in there.

She dragged him with the surprising strength of two men. He succumbed, not having the energy to struggle.

***

Black, more black, dancing shadows... then, a flame. He blinked three times before he could distinguish a candle resting on a bedside table besides his face. He straightened up and found himself naked in a strange bed. Panicked, he looked for his hooded cloak. It was hanging on a hook installed on the door. He hurried to put it on.

Shortly afterwards, someone knocked softly. A young woman with a tray in her hands entered.

- Want breakfast? She asked with a smile.

- You have seen, replied Argoshin, with terror in his voice.

- Yes.

She placed the tray filled with food on the bedside table.