This was the routine of the next week. She would wake up early and tend to her chores before attacking him with brushes and salves. Over this time Emyr started to notice something about the girl. Firstly, there was a low hum in the back of mind whenever she was near. A faint feeling, almost unnoticeable, that made him want to keep her close and protect her. His mind reasoned that this was because she was providing him with shelter and nursing him back to health and was nothing more than a need to return the favor. Then there was her odd habit of playing with the pendent she wore on a silver chain around her neck whenever she was thinking deeply about something. She also returned to her custom of speaking mindlessly as she worked. It was slow at first but he gave a happy hum every now and then as she spoke.
He learned a great deal about her in this time. Her mother passed away when she was the age of ten. She had gone out for her morning ride but only her mount returned covered in a worrying amount of blood. They never found her body and her father looked to the bottle for comfort. It didn't take long for things to go downhill from there. It was her uncle stepping in and taking over his brother's accounts that saved them from being completely destitute. They had moved to the country hoping that the change would do him good but he only made worse. He never left his room and never spoke to her unless her was drunk. She managed the small house hold herself going to town once a week to get a small allowance from her uncle that just barely got them by. She never asked for more than what was needed as she felt guilty though he offered to have them move in with him many times.
After a week off this routine, she saddled her horse one morning saying that she off to town. On her return that afternoon she had a young man with her. From what he picked up they had crossed paths at the market and he helped her bring her purchases back home. It made him bristle watching them from a crack in the barn wall how the boy was standing closer than what was proper as they spoke. How he reached out and touch her so casually. The boy said something that made her laugh and Emyr had to bite back a growl at how he was smiling at the girl. By the time the boy left Emyr had turned to pacing as best he could in the suddenly confined space of the barn. Shaking in rage, he limped back to his stall and burrowed his head under a wing putting his back to the door. He was still sulking when she brought him food that afternoon.
"You must be sick of being cooped up in here all the time," she said softly when she noticed his mood. "I don't think you have healed enough as you still can't walk without limping but if you want we can go for a walk once the sun sets." Being stuck in the old barn wasn't was bothering him but the thought of getting out, even for a while, perked him up. After a few days of this Emyr was feeling well enough to start hunting for himself. Days flew by and by the end of the third week he was moving freely and testing his wings.
When she left for her weekly trip to town he bitterly thought of how much longer he could put off leaving. Grinding his teeth, he knew he couldn't stay forever. First, he had to see if he could safely shift. He wasn't sure how the girl would take this revelation but his other form required less energy to maintain but the thought of a proper bath and bed spurred him to try. Closing his eyes, he reached inside and felt for the magic that rested there. Slowly and painfully his form shifted and changed until he was panting on his hands and knees.
Slowly his blurred vision cleared. Flexing his hands, he looked at his fingers as if they were something alien. It took him several tries to stand but he managed to make it outside. Shielding his hands from the sun he swore a shadow passed over head but quickly dismissed it. Emyr stumble to the well and managed to draw a bucket of water despite his protesting muscles. Dumping the whole bucket on himself, Emyr scrubbed his fingers threw his hair before repeating the prosses. Letting himself be dried by the sun Emyr set to assessing himself.
It wasn't long before his body readjusted to his new form allowing his to flow from one fighting stance to the next with ease. A flutter of moment out of the corner of his eye made him spin on his heel. "You look like hammered shit," a feminine voice said. A slim woman with silver armor half hidden by a long green cloak stood there shaking her head as she took in his state. Her long black hair hung in a braid and her yellow eyes flashed with impish mischief. "Cerra," the man next to her spoke. He was tall with a broad frame and identical outfit. His black hair cut short and he had the look about him that made it look like he hadn't smiled a day in his life.
"Show some respect," he hissed to the woman. "Sorry," she muttered and clearing her throat. "You look like hammered shit, your highness," she stated before dropping into a slight bow to Emyr. "Cerra, Rath," Emyr breathed a sigh, "Thank the Gods it's you. How did you find me?" Rath huffed a breath as if insulted. "I've been pulling you out of bushes and trees since you could walk and you just now ask how I manage to find you? I'm insulted."
"Good to see your alive highness, but it seems you have seen better days. Safe to assume that you were pretty badly injured if this was the first time you used your magic. That or you are trying to lay low," Cerra inquired settling herself onto a nearby fence. "Yes, to both accounts. I didn't want to draw attention to myself before I was healed enough to manage a shift," Emyr replied earning a grunt from Rath. "I take it the garbage that Illon has been spewing is just that? Garbage?" Rath asked. "I wouldn't know," Emyr bit back bitterly. "Said that Thorn was part of the group that you were after and attacked while everyone slept. Illon woke in the middle and managed to kill him but not before he killed you and the rest of those with you," Cerra explained prompting a growl from Emyr. "Told you he was a snake," Rath muttered earning him a scuff from Cerra.
"Who's with you?" came Emyr's next question. "Han, Fenna, and Zofia. Fenna and Zofia are keeping camp at the coste. Han should be here any moment," Cerra answered squeezing in your highness with a glare from Rath. "None of the new guards I take it?" Emyr asked. "There were some, highness, There but I sent them on a goose chase with Yulis at its head. He is to keep them busy and far away enough to stay out of our hair while we looked for you." "Good, I want to be back in the palace before they know I am alive," Emyr said with a nod from both Cerra and Rath.
A figure jogging up the road caught Emyr's attention and a smile spread on his face at the sight of a young man in matching uniform carrying a bag over his shoulder. "Han," Emyr greeted him with a nod. "Here, highness," Han said tossing him the bag, "Figured you might need these." It held a change of clothes and his sword. "Thank the gods," Cerra muttered, "He looks, and smells, like he has rolled in every dung pit between here and Evalanon." Rath hissed at her but she only stuck her tongue out at the man.
Stepping back into the barn Emyr started to change. Just because his cloths were enchanted to shape change with him didn't mean that they magically cleaned themselves and his was still covered in gore from the night he was attacked. "So... what took you so long?" Cerra teased Han as Rath assisted Emyr in becoming presentable. "Well, I was just going to rush over as soon as I felt M'lord's magic but I felt that you two were closer so I went back to camp and grabbed some things. Figgured you two could handle any mess long enough for me to grab a weapon for M'Lord. Since I was already back at camp I figured I might as well grab a change of clothes, and some wine while I was there. I would have been here sooner but there was some rabble on the road harassing a human girl and I had to back track a bit to get around un noticed."
"What?" Emyr's voice cut sharply. "Oh, don't worry. I managed to get away before they even noticed me," Han dismissed. Emyr's hands were pinning Han to the wall before he knew he had even moved. "The girl. Alone, blond hair tied back at the neck, blue eyes and wearing a grey dress with white trim, brown cloak riding a brown beast with a white face and one white leg?" Emyr hissed threw his teeth. "Yes, M'Lord," Han wheezed. With a roar Emyr tossed Han aside, "With me!" he ordered taking his blade harshly from Rath's hands. In a breath, he was outside heading down the road.
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A/N
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Whew! Now that is over we can start getting into the meat of the story. At least that is the idea but my brain likes to wake me up at 3 am going OOOOO OOO OOOOO, you know what should happen next? I got this crazy idea and won't let you get back to sleep until you go over it in painful detail a dozen times. Baring any sleep deprived additions I should have an action packed chapter tomorrow. Now, seeing as I will be up in less than 5 hours I have yet to go over this and the last chapter to check for errors. So hopefully I will find time in the next day or so to go back over it and check for errors.
Your faithful insomniac,
Shana
Posted 10-15-17
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The Lost Daughter of the Crystal Throne
Fantasy"I trust you know a dragon's abilities are effected by their color? In the end they broke off into clans by color. The blues took the coast, the reds and yellows to the west, the browns and blacks took the mountains, the greens took the forest to th...
