Fireborn

Chapter Three: Bloodthirst

    People moved and spoke without Agren realizing it. Ironwood. Ironwood, her childhood home. The city that rose up on the road the the iron mines of Armaad, renowned for its metalworkers.

    "Damnit," she snarled. Her fist collided with the wall. Niora yelled at her and she didn't hear what she said.

    Chi'gaul and Ryore drew weapons. The two-handed sword called Whitewind and a heavy mace called Stoneheart. The Thesronae named all of their weapons. The Dragon Warrior weapons were passed down to each person who took their new name. When it was given to her, she would be entrusted with Embershard, named its wielder.

    Instead of drawing a weapon and leaving with Raiden, she was told to stay behind, and she found herself walking to Arid. She flung open to door. With a battle at Ironwood, the Healers would be too busy to notice them.

    "We have to go, now. It's Ironwood."

    Arid was up in an instant. "Alright, let's take some Pit weapons and go out there."

    "Can you fight with one arm?"

    "I've done it before. Won that bet."

    And they left. It was so easy to leave with everyone distracted. Chi'gaul would probably be giving some rousing battle speech by now, bringing together their uncut forces of new warriors, new Huntresses, those who were too young to have fought the Moonsbane, or those who were never on hand when a fight broke out.

    This would be Agren and Arid's first fight. She wondered if it would be like the Pit, up close and personal, with yelling and cheap victory tricks.

    They took weapons. Not stealing. They would bring them back. Arid, a long seax, and Agren, a shield and short sword. If only she'd remembered that Pit weapons were typically dulled to avoid serious injury.

    They didn't leave until they heard, "Hyro et kaa!" from Chi'gaul's forces. It was the battle cry of the Thesronae, "Rise and fight."

    The horses seemed like they could smell battle in the air. Their hooves stamped and manes tossed as they were geared. Agren and Arid saddled the horses and rode out. The gates were still open for the stragglers who were still filtering out.

    The trees seemed to part out of their way. Towards the back of the cluster of warriors were the walkers and the slower riders, but most of them were far ahead of them, save for two.

    One was a Huntress, brown skinned and black haired, smiling, small and sleek in light armor. She rode a mare, patched white and brown. Beside her, a Berserker man, with shaggy brown hair and a stubble coating, about as old as Raiden.

    "I'll be damned if that's not a bear," said Arid. The man rode a heavy, thick furred grizzly. He turned around and chuckled.

    "Well luckily for you, she is a bear. This is Ee-ran." The grizzly huffed and flicked her small round ears. Agren recognized her name as stemming from Asheeri Naith, Ee ran, "Do right." Agren's own name had Asheeri origins. It came from the word agrae, red.

    "Hello, Ee-ran," Arid replied. "Arid Ironborn, at your service. By my Mothers, I would die for that animal."

    "You don't have a choice, she owns your soul now," said the Huntress. "Oh, um...I'm Luna, by the way. Luna Graydust."

    "Torrok the Bear, and no, it's not because I ride a bear." He held up his shield, round, with a dip in the top. It was wooden, painted with the head of a grizzly in shades of blue. "It's also for my pretty voice." His voice was low and rough, like a growl.