Fireborn

Prologue

"Come closer, child. Let me tell you a story. A true one," said the woman. Her voice was so hushed that the girl had to lean in to hear her.

"The Lady of Death was beautiful once, you know? She was described as having eyes so black that they must have reflected the very depths of the Dark Sea. The fathoms were in her eyes, and so were the stars and the thorns that rest below the shelter of the trees."

"Dear child, her first title was given to her because of her hair. Now, most do have a first title based on their appearance, but none like her. They called her Crow's Crest. Her hair was silken black like a crow's feathers. Soft and light as well, and almost blue when it caught in the light."

All of her people were given titles throughout their lives. She knew that. The girl had earned no titles yet, but she knew she would take one some day. Perhaps her name would be as famous as the Lady of Death.

The girl scooted closer to the woman. Her eyes were wide, drinking in every word.

"The Lady has seven titles now, although many seem to forget what she was called before, when she had two: Lady of Death and Crow's Crest. Do you know, child?"

The girl shook her head vigorously. A stray lock of hair fell into her blue eyes.

The woman reached out a milky hand and brushed the free strands back in place. "Before she took a new name, she was Chandra Nightborn of Armaad, Lady of Death, Crow's Crest, Dragon Warrior of the Thesronae, and daughter of Mother Amethyst."

"She was loved by her friends and feared by her enemies. A sight so fierce, in her spiked black armor with her black eyes, that some would drop their weapons at a mere glimpse of her. Now, when she spread her black wings, that frightened them more. They were huge. If she was close enough to someone, they might swear she was an eclipse in the woman's form."

"But, dear child, it could not stay that way forever." The woman paused for a moment, turning to face the open window. The wooden legs on her chair squeaked against the floor as she stood.

The girl remained silent, eyes following the woman's every motion. She watched as she pulled a small box off of a shelf, took flint from it, and lit a candle. The red glow of the dusk was seeping through the window, and seemingly being carried away by the whispering gusts from outside. There was rain in the air; the girl could smell it.

The woman returned to her seat. She was aware of her joints cracking as she lowered, and had not realized how old and weary she was. If the girl noticed, she didn't show it. She was sitting there, fidgeting, clearly impatient.

"Now, like many warriors then, she had trained with animals. As you know, the Berserkers are the only ones that use animals now. But then, that was not the case. The Lady trained with and fought alongside a pack of wolves. Dire wolves, and the last of their kind. Do you know their names?"

She nodded. "They were Wuldra, Phantom, Briar, Ress, Cree, and Aspen."

The gray woman smiled, offering the child a sense of approval. "As one of the ten Dragon Warriors, she swore to the laws, and was left forbidden and unable to bear children. Many of the Chosen women considered the change a blessing," she said with a chuckle.

"Why?" the girl asked.

"When you are a woman, you will know."

"Did she?"

"No one can truly say, but the Lady made do. Those Dire wolves were like her children. She raised many of them from pups. They were her swords and her shields, her hope and love and life. Those wolves were everything to her. And that's what ended her."